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1-800-kami · 8 months

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R U MINE? feat gojo satoru (II)

gojo satoru has got to be the picture definition of a stereotypical college frat boy. he’s cocky, loaded with his daddy’s money, and dangerously handsome. it seems like common sense to stay away from him since you’ll never get more than a one-night stand out of it.

that’s why you choose to turn a blind eye once you’ve come to the horrific realization: you’re in love with him. and you’re just itching to ask…

“are you mine tomorrow? or just mine tonight?”

IMPORTANT: this is part TWO (and the final part) of the r u mine? mini series. make sure to read part one of this fic before proceeding! :)

content: 5.4k words, afab!reader, rich college frat boy gojo, SMUT (fingering & unprotected sex.. wrap it before u tap it kids!) ANGST, (i listened to deftones while writing the breakup era LMAOO i was in my feels 😔) gojo "everything reminds me of her" satoru is really going thru it, idk how to feel about the ending tbh, cheating implications, kinda proofread ig, more emo gojo (u luv to see it)

author's note: guys. where do i even start?? first of all, thank u for all the support on the first part of this mini series!! we also hit 100 followers on this blog so tysm for supporting me n my writing <3 here's the long awaited part two (n also the finale) as i promised that i would get it out over the weekend! just a quick announcement that i may be a little bit more inactive from here on out.. mainly because classes r starting again nd im starting to get busier. i do have more fic plans though, (and a geto smut in my drafts? 👀) so i'll make time to write when i can! happy reading and thank u for all the support on this silly little series :)

tags: @soley613 @feariteriu @bear-likes-mushrooms @96jnie @keilaq1 @whydohumansss @luftyluft @fatbootymuncher (bold = i'm unable to tag u)

reblog and interact for a kiss ;)

everything’s been hazy.

you don’t really remember how you got home– you either waved down a cab or walked until you somehow found your house. either way, the alcohol is worsening the pounding in your ears. the straps of your dress are clinging terribly against your skin–you want to take it off, you want to wear something more comfortable, you want to just go to sleep, preferably forever… but you can’t bring yourself to.

you can’t even bring yourself to move.

so the rumors really were true? but why did gojo pursue so far just for you? why did gojo say those words to you when you spent the night together? why did gojo try so hard to convince you that night that he wanted to have sex with you because he loved you–and not solely because he wanted to have sex?

why did gojo lie to you?

another series of pings sound throughout the room, and you finally move to silence your phone. the noise is all so overwhelming. why the hell is your phone blowing up?

you check your notifications–mostly dms from people you don’t know, either asking if you and satoru were dating, or questioning you about what the hell happened at the party. you know that you’re gonna be the subject of gossip once you’re back at campus, and you hate it.

you were surprised at the numbers once you scrolled down your notification list a little further. ten missed calls from satoru, accompanied by a series of fifteen panicked messages. you open it, and you stare sadly at his contact photo and name, remembering the fond memory behind it. once you two actually started dating, you were merciful enough to add a heart next to his name, and even updated it to “toru”. he was elated at that.

you think you can barely even call him gojo now.

the most recent message was barely sent a minute ago. like it was on cue, you see the bright headlights pull up outside of your door. you wanted to sink into your couch and never resurface ever again.

you hear suguru’s car door open and close, and then frantic knocking outside. you walk to the door while sniffling, looking through the peephole just to confirm your suspicions. it was satoru.

“i can hear you crying through the door, y/n. i know you’re there.” he takes a deep inhale, and the tears start rolling down your cheeks again once you hear the complete and utter vulnerability in his voice. you just don’t know what to believe anymore. “shit, i’m crying too. well, i’m gonna explain myself even if you don’t care enough to listen to me. uhm, believe it or not, what happened at the party wasn’t my doing… at all. when you went to use the bathroom, this girl went up to me and started flirting with me, like she was waiting for you to leave or somethin’. i was g’na tell her to go fuck off but she pushed herself on my lap and before i could do anything about it you walked in and it was just all horrible timing and- god. i know it sounds unbelievable, right? you must think i’m terrible right now.”

“you don’t have to believe me. if i were in your shoes i wouldn’t know what to think either. i’m just… explaining what happened.”

there’s a long period of silence between you and satoru, aside from the occasional sniffling on both ends. you don’t know what to say. you want to believe him. you want to do nothing more than to open the door and let him hold you in his arms again, but you just don’t know what to think anymore. you poured your entire heart out to a man who you knew you shouldn’t be messing with, and now you don’t know who or what to believe. you feel like a fool, and you’re just tired. so damn tired. the silence feels asphyxiating, like it's tearing your relationship with satoru further and further apart the longer it draws on.

satoru is the first one to break the silence. “i’m guessing from the silent treatment that you don’t believe me. it’s okay, y/n. i’ll wait an eternity for you to forgive me because i’ll always choose you- fuck… over anything, and i hope you know that.”

your mind is a mess, and satoru’s words make it even messier.

i’ll wait an eternity for you

i’ll always choose you over anything

you put your head in your hands and sob. it hurts.

a minute passes–gojo hears you get up from where you’re sitting behind the door, and his heart fills with hope.

“i just… i just don’t know how to believe you, gojo.”

his heart breaks when he hears the door–presumably to your bedroom–open and close, leaving him alone with his shattered heart. his heart breaks when he takes in your voice, noticing how weak and exhausted you sounded. he wonders how much you’ve cried just from this past hour alone. his heart breaks once he realizes that he’s alone with his thoughts again, alone with the voice in his head that was berating him for not being able to prevent all of this if he hadn’t frozen up and just pushed her away the second that girl started flirting with him. finally, his heart breaks once it registers that you called him gojo–the last name that he shares with his corrupt and money-crazy family… the family he tries so hard to get away from. it was also the name you called him during the days that you barely trusted him.

now, he’s back to square one, and he has none of your trust again. this time, satoru swears that he’ll do anything in his power to get it back once more.

you didn’t come to school today.

there’s been nothing but radio silence on your end. gojo has sent you countless messages over the weekend asking how you’ve been, with the occasional desperate voicemail where he tells you that he loves and misses you. you’ve turned off your read receipts, so gojo doesn’t even know if you’ve seen his texts or listened to his voicemails. he’s concerned for you, even though he knows that he’s the reason behind all of this. he was hoping to talk things out with you today.. but you weren’t even here.

one thing gojo knew about you is that you cared deeply about your academics, and you wouldn’t miss attendance even if you were sick. it pains him to know that he was the reason that you weren’t here today. you were avoiding him, and he felt helpless.

he’s talked to geto—and the best advice that his best friend could offer was to “find proof that you didn’t cheat on her.” he’s right, though. the last thing you had said to gojo was that you don’t know how to believe if he’s telling the truth or not. gojo has absolutely no idea how to prove his fidelity to you, since words clearly weren’t enough. it frustrates him to no end.

gojo now knows that he feels absolutely lost. all when he’s not with you.

it feels nerve-wracking to walk the halls.

he remembers telling you the night that you slept together that he’d learned over time to drown out the rumors about him. he learned not to care about what other people thought about him, and he eventually became unaffected by the school’s gossip.

however, this time was different.

this time, he finds it difficult to drown out the rumors when he hears your name in them. he flinches every time someone whispers your name and his as he walks the halls, feeling that all eyes are on him. “i heard y/n and gojo broke up…” “they were dating?!” “yeah.. i didn’t believe it at first, either! apparently he…”

he doesn’t want to hear it, so he walks a little faster. it hasn’t felt this suffocating to be on campus in a while.

maybe that’s partially why you didn’t show up. rumors are hard to ignore if you don’t know how to shun them out.

gojo lets out a sigh. he decides that he’s going to ditch the rest of class. you weren’t here, he couldn’t talk to you, and he felt he was gonna go mad if he heard your name spoken by someone again, so he turns to leave, but flinches as he feels a hand lightly tap his shoulder.

“gojo-san?”

he turns around, with a girl that he’s never seen before standing in front of him… not that he pays attention to them in the first place, though. he raises his eyebrow in question, and the girl looks so nervous she might pass out. “i have to tell you something-“

“if it’s a love confession or whatever, i don’t want to hear it-“

“-no!” she flushes a deep shade of red, and he fights the urge to roll his eyes. she coughs awkwardly at his expression. “um, no.. it’s not that. please, just give me two minutes in the library. i have something to tell you.”

he decides to entertain this girl for a bit. he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t curious about what she had to talk to him for. gojo sighs and says, “two minutes. that’s all you’re getting.”

“this is about the party last friday, no?” he says while taking a seat near one of the tables. he feels sick just being here. he’d never gone to the library before meeting you–as he had no reason to go here at all. then, he started accompanying you everywhere as he tried to win your heart. “study dates” were frequent here, and he even remembers forcefully changing his contact name and number on your phone during one of your dates.

gosh, everything literally reminds him of you. he can barely live like this.

she takes a seat across from him, and she shamefully nods at his words. “i went to the party on friday, and i just want to say i’m sorry-”

gojo gets up to leave. he can’t do this. he doesn’t need anyone’s pity. pity can’t change the fact that you still won’t talk to him. she panics as gojo is about to walk away. “wait!”

the librarian tells her to quiet down, and she mutters an apology. still, she persists. “please, just wait for two minutes… i need two minutes to explain myself. you promised you’d give me that.”

she stares at gojo, who hasn’t left yet, and takes that as her opportunity to speak. “i was a friend of… her,” he doesn’t need an explanation to know who she was talking about. “the reason why she came up to you was because of a dare i told her to do. she’s had a crush on you for a while now, so of course she was willing to flirt with you.”

“um, that was the dare, by the way. my friend told me to record it, because we were all drunk, and we thought it would be funny. just another memory to laugh at in the future, right? we didn’t know you were dating the girl you were with at the party. sorry but, we assumed she was just a fling… or something… we didn’t know she was your girlfriend.”

“yeah, i was dating the girl at the party.” gojo scoffs, and he feels his anger bubbling up again. “then your friend had to do that stupid dare, and she won’t fuckin’ talk to me now.”

“i’m sorry-”

“i don’t need your apologies. is that why you came up to me? to apologize so you don’t feel guilty about what happened anymore?” gojo sneers. he was right, though. guilt is ridden all over her face, and she can’t even meet his eyes. he’s about to leave, thinking that this entire conversation was useless, but gojo thinks back on what she said earlier.

“...my friend told me to record it…”

he turns back to look at her, which surprises her, to say the least. “hey, you said you recorded the dare, right?”

“uhm, yes.”

“so you still have the video?”

“it should be in my camera roll somewhere-”

“if you came here to apologize to me, then you should send me that video.” she looked a little horrified at his words, and gojo could almost laugh. “what? i’m not gonna do anything bad with it, god.”

she thinks about what gojo’s intentions could be with that video, and her eyes light up in recognition as she connects the dots from what he said beforehand. i was dating the girl at the party… then your friend had to do that stupid dare… and she won’t fuckin’ talk to me now.

she nods in understanding. this is the least she could do for him. she pulls out her phone, looking for the video, and says, “i hope you two make up soon, gojo-san.”

gojo satoru walks- no, runs out of that library with determination. determination as he finally has the video evidence of what happened at the party–his saving grace so he could finally get you to forgive him.

you miss him.

you miss him like hell, actually, and you blink at the messages he just sent you in complete disbelief.

you didn’t show up to class today because you were afraid. you were afraid to see satoru again, yes, but you were also afraid of what everyone else would say about you. the party was one thing, but the after-effects and the rumors were something completely different. you didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with that, unlike satoru, so you stayed home. all because you were afraid of what would happen on campus.

you just wish things would go back to how they were before… all of this happened. you didn’t want to admit it, but you’ve read all of satoru’s messages, and you’ve listened to all of his voicemails. you’ve cried to them. and it hurts because you’re still torn apart in the midst of your own feelings. and now, satoru wants to talk to you, because he’s been wanting to do nothing but fix everything between the two of you.

the doorbell rings, and you almost jump out of your skin.

you didn’t even know if you would open the door or not. despite that, you felt your body moving on its own, like you were relying on your own instincts. you washed your face to get rid of the dried tears on your cheeks, brushed the tangles out of your hair, and dressed into something more presentable. the next thing you know, you’re leaning against the wall next to the front entrance. your shadow is visible underneath the door, so satoru knows that you’re here.

“hi, y/n..” he sounded so nervous that you almost laughed, but you felt equally as terrified as him. “i have something to show you… uh, on my phone. if you don’t want to see me, it’s fine, i’ll just send it to you, but i’d really prefer if you open the door and we’ll talk about this inside-”

your hand is already reaching the door knob before you can even think about it. it’s such an impulse decision that you look at him in surprise once you open the door. it’s the first time you’ve seen him ever since you were at the party. it’s only been three days, but you can’t help but notice how his eyebags are more prominent, his eyes are a little redder, and he looks nothing short of exhausted.

“hey,” he manages to breathe out, his eyes meeting yours. “can i come in? please?”

you nod, too stunned to say anything, and he exhales in relief as he walks in. the two of you sit on the couch, and gojo notices how you’re keeping your distance from him. it breaks his heart a little.

he looks for the video on his phone and gets ready to show it to you. this is it. his last ditch effort for your forgiveness. he’s really fuckin’ hoping that this works. “i got this video from a girl who came to the party. it’s a recording of, um, what happened.”

he hands the phone over to you, and you take it skeptically, still choosing to keep silent. you press play, and you watch the recording. a shaky hand holds the camera, and the person behind it says, “holy shit, she’s actually doing it!” they're presumably talking to their friend, and the camera focuses on a girl walking over to gojo. your heart is pounding, eyes widening in recognition as you stare at her... the one who caused all of this in the first place.

the all too familiar girl comes up to him, saying something out of earshot. when gojo looks at her, completely uninterested, she pulls that move. the scene you saw at the party before you ran out. tears fill your eyes again, and you almost want to stop the video, but your interest is piqued at the next part.

..this… this part was something that you didn’t see. gojo angrily reacts at the girl’s move, with her falling on the floor as she looks at him, stunned at how furious he looks. the person behind the camera gasps, continuing to record out of shock as a crowd of people turn to stare at the two. geto eventually comes into the frame and takes gojo away from all the chaos. the video ends there, and you grip gojo’s phone shakily.

holy shit.

tears roll down your face, but this time, they’re tears of relief. you waste no time in hugging satoru, crying your heart out as you bury your face in his neck. you’re happy. you’re so fucking happy, and so relieved knowing that he didn’t lie to you. of course he didn’t.

“m’sorry-” you sniffle into his shoulder. gojo is so shocked at what was happening that it takes him a second to hug you back, but when he does, he starts crying. “m’so fucking sorry i didn’t believe you-”

“shh, it’s okay, it’s okay…” he says, and you only hug him tighter. “m’so tired, you know that? these past three days fucking sucked. i’m just so glad you’re in my arms again, fuck-”

“-i love you, i love you, i love you so fucking much, toru.” you repeat, laughing as you kiss him all over his face. it’s been a while since you said that to someone. you wipe his never-ending tears away, still in disbelief, and whisper, “you’re real. right? you’re actually here with me right now ‘nd i’m not dreaming, right?

“i’m very much real, baby.” he says, putting his forehead against yours as you take in his features again. “god, i missed that pretty face so much.”

he finally closes the gap between you two, pulling you into a much needed kiss. it’s a kiss filled with so many emotions–desperation, happiness, relief. satoru thinks his heart is finally whole again. he’s missed you. he’s missed you so fucking much, and you’ve missed him too.

you’re like an anchor to satoru. the light of his life that keeps him grounded. and god, he’s been apart from you for too long.

you reposition yourself as you’re deepening the kiss. you’re on his lap now, and you wrap your arms around his neck, tugging on his hair in desperation. “oh yeah? ‘y gonna do anything about it?"

“of course i am,” he says, hands roaming underneath your shirt as he caresses your bare waist. fuck. he needs you. right now. especially after thinking that he was about to lose you forever–for something that he didn’t even do. “i’m gonna show you just how much i missed you, baby.”

gojo can’t let you go.

you’re in your bedroom, and both of you waste no time undressing each other. he takes you in–all of you, in awe of every crevice of your body as he trails his hands further down your waist.

god, you’re so beautiful. “i can’t believe i almost lost you.”

his words are shaky, like he’s still uncertain that you’re real and you’re in his arms again. he can’t seem to break himself away from you, almost like you’ll disappear if he lets you go. “but i’m here now, toru.”

“i’m here to stay, and i’ll never let you go again… ‘m yours,” you whisper, and your words set a fire in him, fueling his body with nothing but desperation. desperation to have you right here, and right now.

he wastes no time in plunging two of his fingers in your cunt, and he groans at just how wet you are. “satoru-”

“fuck, you’re so wet… and it’s all for me,” he mutters, spreading your legs effortlessly when you try to close them, thighs shaking in pure pleasure. he adds another finger, and you already feel stretched to the brim, and you haven’t even taken him in yet. the thought of his cock inside of you makes you even wetter than you already are, and you look up at satoru with eyes full of lust and desire. “missed you so much, baby. missed you and your pretty little cunny,”

his fingers are long, and you whine at how full you feel right now. you’re so loud, and you don’t even care. right now, it’s just you and satoru finally feeling each other again. it’s only been three days, but it feels like you’ve been apart for years.

everything about this was filthy. from your erotic moans and the way your cunt squelched against his fingers… not to mention the vice grip you had on them- fuck, satoru thinks he can cum untouched just from watching you like this.

“haa-” you whimper when his fingers curl and hit that spot in your cunt that you can barely seem to reach on your own. it’s exhilarating, and only fuels the growing heat in your stomach. “toru- don’t stop- please, i’m close-”

“really?” he taunts, and it feels so fucking good–your head is numb, and the only thoughts filling your head are thoughts of satoru. the pleasure is too much, and you try to get away from him, but he keeps you in place, curling his fingers faster as punishment. “don’t run away from me, baby… be a good girl and just take it, yeah?”

“toru- fuck- i’m gonna cum, please-” you’re on the brink of release, but suddenly, he stops, ruining your orgasm. “no- wait-”

he pulls his fingers out, and you whine at the loss of stimulation. you were so close–why did he take that away from you? you try and swat at his hands, but he just takes his fingers and puts them in his mouth, locking his eyes with yours with a sly smile. “you taste so sweet, i can’t help it,”

“aww, is my baby mad ‘cause she didn’t get to cum?” he coos sarcastically, caging you in between his arms as he tilts your face up with his finger. “too bad… the only thing you’re cumming on tonight is on my cock.”

and with that, he eases his painfully hard member into your walls. your insides hugged him perfectly–it was like you were made just for him. you gasp once he’s fully sheathed himself inside of you. his fingers were already a lot to take in, but his cock was something completely different. he moans your name, barely keeping his cool. “fuck- you’re squeezing me so tight,”

“missed everything about you, baby. i need to hold you, please,” he pleads desperately, clasping your small hands against his. the size difference alone between the two of you almost makes him cum, but he holds himself back, choosing to bask in this intimate moment. he’s missed every part about this. “you ready f’me?-”

“-just fuck me, satoru, please-” he doesn’t need another confirmation from you.

he can’t bring himself to hold back. next thing you know, he’s fucking you into the mattress, and you feel the headboard shake at how fast satoru is going. fuck–you feel every part of him, every part of his cock as it slams against your tight hole. he’s so big, you feel yourself gasping for breath, and you moan out loud as you notice the prominent bulge forming in your stomach. it’s him, it’s all him, and it’s driving you mad.

satoru follows your eyes in the midst of all of this, and he watches everything in fascination. he decides to be a little mean, and presses his free hand against your stomach–it feels so good, you could almost scream at the pleasure. “you feel that, baby? that’s all me inside of you, hmm?”

“please-” the onset of pleasure feels so overwhelming, and tears fill your eyes. you feel an oncoming orgasm coming, and you know your release will hit you like a tidal wave. your heart is pounding, but satoru only grips your hand tighter and fucks you even harder. “oh, fuck!”

“m close, baby. are you g’na cum too?” he manages to say between pants, and you somehow nod, mind hazy and your release only coming closer. you feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “cum inside of me, toru- please- i need to feel you-”

gojo groans at your words, and you both cum together. you ride out your high, screaming as you spasm around his cock, the pleasure overfilling your senses until you’re trembling from it. he fills you up, staying inside of you as the two of you catch your breath. everything’s hazy, and you’re barely aware of your surroundings… it takes you a few minutes to recover.

“angel, are you with me?”

“yeah, fuck, just… give me a second.” you say, and gojo thinks that he would gladly give you all the time in the world if you needed it. he pulls out of you with a hiss, and his warm seed drips out of your cunny. it makes his cock twitch, but he knows that you’re probably not considering a round two right now.

when you come to your senses, you notice satoru–who put his clothes back on already, wiping your legs down with a rag. his touch is so soft, like he’s afraid to break you, unlike how he handled you just a moment ago. you look down and notice the bruises starting to form on your legs and waist. satoru looks guilty as he stares. “i didn’t go too rough with you, did i?”

“not at all,” you reassure him, and you see him soften up a little. “it felt really good, actually… thank you, toru.”

“s nothing. you know my girl only gets the best,” he teases, and you laugh. “i’m gonna go get you some new clothes and some water… i’ll be back, okay?”

you nod, closing your eyes again as satoru leaves the room. he’s back in two minutes, and he’s gently changing you into new clothes that he found in your drawer. you’re so tired that you can hardly move, so you let satoru do all the work. he caresses all of your bruises, apologizing again even if you already said that it was okay. he’s so gentle, a swift juxtaposition to what just happened beforehand, and so soft with you. once you’re clothed again, he brings a glass of water against your lips, and you greedily gulp it down as he keeps a hand on your back. he places it on the nightstand once you’re finished, and you grab his wrist after, tugging him back to the bed. “lay with me for a bit, toru.”

satoru doesn’t hesitate, laying down next to you on the bed and placing your head against his chest. your breathing is back to normal, and you feel his heart thumping against your ear. you wrap your arms around him, and satoru thinks that this moment is so domestic that he can’t help but daydream. he looks at your face, memorizing every feature about you with a lovesick look in his eyes. you’re so beautiful, so perfect, and he’s just so fucking glad that he didn’t lose you.

satoru thinks he could wake up to this everyday.

“you’re starin.” you say with an amused look on your face. gojo doesn’t even try to play it off. “what’s on your mind?”

“nothing. i just… love you so much, y/n.” he says, pulling you closer and kissing your forehead. satoru would trade anything if it meant that this moment wouldn’t end. “m so glad you chose me.”

“i think it’s the other way around,” you tease. “you chose me. ever since you saw me at the party, you’ve done nothing but try to win my heart.”

“how could i not? there was just something different about you compared to everyone else.” he reminisces about that night at the party, and how far he’s come with his relationship with you. he remembers that night like it just happened yesterday.

you sigh, almost like you were thinking about that night too. you pull him into a kiss, finally finding the courage within you to say a proper “i love you.” to the man who meant the world to you.

“i love you too, angel.” he says, and you snuggle into him tighter. “you know i’ll always choose you…”

“..from this life and into the next. i’m so glad you gave me a chance, y/n. i’ll forever be grateful to now be called your husband. i’m the luckiest man ever knowing that you let me into your life, and i’m the one who gets to read these vows to marry you. i cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you. i love you so much, y/n gojo.” he’s crying. gojo satoru is crying, and he’s hardly ever cried before. though, that changed after he met you.

the last time he cried was during pre-k, and now he’s done it time and time again… all because of you. he cried once during your first argument with him, another during the night he thought he’d lost you forever, and then another when he finally had you in his arms again once he proved his innocence… and now, during his wedding, when he finally gets to call you his wife.

and when you share your kiss at the end of the ceremony to symbolize your togetherness, you hear all your friends cheering. mainly shoko, utahime, and geto. if you showed this very scene to shoko during your university years, she’d call you crazy, saying this would never happen. gojo satoru was once a man who’d never willingly committed in a relationship before, but you came into his life and you changed everything about him. it was like magic.

you pull away from the kiss, wiping his tears away and whispering against his lips, drowning out the crowd, “thank you.”

for memorizing all my favorite foods so you could buy them for me. for walking me to class every day. for making me fall in love with you that one day at the park. for waiting for me to slowly love you even when i was scared to love. for waiting for me even if i didn’t trust you. for loving me. for proving those rumors wrong. for proving that satoru gojo is actually capable of falling in love and pouring his heart out to the one he loves the most.

for everything that you have done to love me.

it was like gojo could hear all of your unspoken words. he smiles, letting one more tear roll down his cheek, and says, “it’s all worth it if it’s for you.”

thanks for reading <3 -kami.

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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months

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Tattoos II

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: Mamí has pens now

You break into the box of Mamí's skin pens that night.

It was very fun to draw all over her arms like how she was drawing over Tia Alexia's. The little pictures on her arms are very fun and Mamí's even got your name written there too because she loves you so much.

Mamí always says that you're a little artist because all of your artwork gets hung up on the fridge at home. When you draw, Mamí says that it's abstract because you always tell her that you like to draw your feelings and Mamí says that's a very good habit to have for an artist.

You think Mamí's an artist too but a different kind of artist to you. She does art on people's bodies instead of on a canvas. It must be fun for her, you think, which is why you're pressing the pen to your own skin to see if it's fun for you too.

Mamí is outside the hotel room talking to Tia Patri and Pina while Mumma is in the bathroom, on an adult call with her parents.

That gives you enough time to grab the pens and start drawing on yourself.

They're a little ticklish but you mix a few of the colours together to reflect your feelings and try to draw a picture of Bagheera too.

"Oh, teeny," Mamí chuckles when she comes back into the room," Did you get into my pens again?"

It's a fairly adorable sight. You're sitting on the floor with your tongue poking out of your mouth as you run the yellow pen up and down your arm as Mapi catches sight of a black blob that was clearly your impression of Bagheera.

"Like you," You grunt as you drop the pen and reach for another one.

Mapi intercepts you before you can, pulling you into her lap and reaching down to put all the caps back onto the pens again. "Like me? Like my tattoos?"

You nod, trying to reach for the pens again.

"How about I do them?" Mapi asks," And then we can compare styles?"

You nod at that too, suddenly excited. At home, Mamí likes to sit with you at the kitchen table and draw together before swapping pictures.

The pens are still ticklish even though Mamí's using them and it brings a big smile to your face as the nibs run over your skin.

Mumma comes back out through the bathroom, shaking her head in amusement at her phone. She looks up at you and Mamí and her smile gets even wider.

"Look at you!" She laughs.

"Like Mamí!" You say proudly, looking down at your arms and then back at Mumma again.

"I can see that. You're just like your Mamí."

That makes you feel very good and the sunshine yellow you already put on your arm reflects that.

"That washes off, right?" Mumma asks Mamí, giving her one of the looks that she gives her when she forgets to put your clothes in the laundry after a bath," And it's not going to stain?"

"It definitely washes off," Mamí says, switching colours to add the finishing touches.

"And the staining?"

Mamí stays silent for a little bit. "Only a little? It's barely even noticeable!"

Mumma sighs, massaging her temples like she did that time Tia Patri and Pina babysat you and she came home to them passed out asleep on the floor and the kitchen covered in flour.

"If anyone makes reference to it tomorrow," Mumma says in a tone that means she's being very serious," Then you're in trouble."

You frown. "Me?"

Mamí laughs. "No, teeny, your Mumma means me."

You think for a moment before smiling. "Okay!"

Mumma starts laughing at the offended look on Mamí's face and you give her a toothy grin in answer as she shakes her head in disbelief and puts the pens back on your arm.

Mamí works away for a few more minutes before putting the lid back on the pen.

"All done," She says to you.

"All done?"

"All done."

You look away from the video Mumma's showing you on her phone to look down at your arm. You pull at the skin a little bit to see all of it before you crash into a hug with Mamí.

"Mumma! Mumma!" You say excitedly," Look! Look! Like Mamí!"

"Wow!" Mumma says," You're exactly like your Mamí! Should we take a picture?"

You nod. "Picture! Picture!" You tense your arm like how Mamí does when she wants to show off and beam at the camera.

"And how about one with Mamí too? Because you both look so similar."

"Mamí! Mamí! Picture time!"

Mamí kneels down next to you, flexing too as she smiles at the camera.

"Send me that," She says to Mumma," I think that'll have to be my new home screen."

#woso x reader #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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yandere-daydreams · 9 months

Text

Title: Predetermined.

Written for the very lovely @mars-syndrome.

Pairing: Yandere!Azul x Reader (Twisted Wonderland).

Word Count: 3.0k.

TW: AFAB!Reader, Non///Con, Tentacle Sex, Unprotected Sex, Nonconsensual Drug Use, Implied Long-Term Stalking, and Unhealthy Relationships.

For everyone except you, the Monsto Lounge closed at ten.

It was an unofficial rule. Octavinelle freshmen would try to turn you away, but it was a mistake the Leech twins made sure to correct by the next morning, and everyone who’d ever worked more than a shift at the lounge knew better than to kick you out at the end of the night. That was why you were allowed to get away with something Azul would usually blacklist a customer for – staying balled up in the corner of a booth until midnight, your attention either on your nearly-dead phone or the untouched milkshake Floyd had wordlessly put in front of you when he came down to make one for himself, like a zookeeper offering a pound of meat to a caged animal. Riddle was absolutely going to kill you for staying out after curfew, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about how many sugar cubes you’d have to add to your lemonade tomorrow or how many roses you’d have to paint. You were tempted to spend the night here, to beg Azul to let you use one of the unoccupied rooms and just sleep your misery away, but you’d end up collared for the next week if you didn’t come back at all. The price of being in the best dorm in NRC – you were at the mercy of the strictest dorm leader on campus.

Sometimes, when you couldn’t help yourself, you wished you’d been placed in Azul’s dorm instead. He’d let you get away with anything.

With a heavy sigh, you pulled your legs into your chest and buried your face in your knees. You felt the bench shift under someone else’s weight and raised your head just enough to see Azul sitting in front of you. He’d already discarded his jacket and scarf, his glasses propped low on the nose of his bridge and his shirt more unbuttoned than he usually cared to keep it. He’d probably just wrapped up his own work for the night. You thought you remembered him mentioning a study guide, but it was hard to tell with Azul. He always had something up his sleeve – it was hard to keep track of which scheme he was on, today.

Silently, he slid a mug of something dark and murky in front of you, steam still rising from the top. Although Floyd’s offering went neglected, you took Azul’s up without protest, letting the warmth seep into your hands. You’d been through this a thousand times. You knew better than to ignore his little remedies, by now.

After you’d taken a healthy sip, he spoke. “Who is it now?”

“Muscle-tee guy, from Savanaclaw.” You groaned, shutting your eyes. “He promised we’d be exclusive, but apparently, he thought that included his roommate, and a girl from Pomefiore, and some idiot from Royal Swords. A boy from his class had to tell me – he had pictures and everything.”

Azul offered a skeptical look. “You’re crying over him?”

“I’m not crying!” You hadn’t cried over anyone since middle school. He should know that – he’d been there then, too, to watch you sob your eyes out when your newest crush tore up your confession letter before so much as opening it. You were a third-year, now. If you were going to cry, you were going to do it alone in your closet where no one would be able to judge you.

You were more tired than anything. You could already feel today starting to weigh on you, your shoulders held at an odd slant and your remaining energy dwindling further by the second. Reluctantly, you uncurled, letting your legs fall over Azul’s lap and taking another drink before going on. “I’m just so exhausted. It feels like it always ends like this. I let my guard down, meet a guy I really like, get him to really like me, and then I find out that that he’s an asshole and somehow, I’m the only one who didn’t know.” You groaned, shaking your head. “I don’t know how this keeps happening. Are all men this bad, or just the ones I choose to date?”

“Unfortunately, your taste is the only common factor.” You let out a dry laugh, shooting Azul a narrow glare. He only shrugged, as composed and as disinterested as always. “Honestly, it’s your own fault. How can you expect to find a quality product when you’re latching onto items you’ve only known for a few days?”

Another groan, this one louder than the first. You really were tired – it was a struggle just to keep your eyes open. “I don’t sulk in your restaurant ‘cause I want to be lectured, y’know.”

“And I didn’t open a restaurant because I wanted people with pathetic love-lives to sulk in it.” It was his turn to sigh, now, to settle closer to you. A hand came to rest on your back, rubbing small circles into the space between your shoulder blades. He was never especially touchy – you’d caught him cringing after shaking hands with a business partner or being nudged by another clumsy student in an overcrowded hallway more than once – but you could tell he tried to an exception, for you. You appreciated the effort, no matter how much it apparently hurt him. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but it wouldn’t hurt you if stopped rushing into relationships with people you barely know. Taking your time might save you a little heartache.” He paused. You weren’t looking at him, but you could picture the thin frown playing over his lips, the way his eyes narrowed in concentration rather than anger (because when Azul was angry, hr only ever smiled). He was smart, but predictable. Maybe it was just because of how long you’d known each other, how long you’d spent standing at Azul’s side while he looked down on everyone else, but either way, you could read him like the back of your hand. You didn’t have to see him to know exactly what he was thinking. “Or, if you really have to rush into something, you could try starting a relationship with someone you actually know. It might not be as much fun, but it couldn’t be worse than—” He gestured to you, your hunched posture, your wrinkled uniform. “—this.”

You perked up, letting out an airy laugh. It was rare for Azul to hand out advice without asking for a healthy fee, so you tried to nod, to smile, to look like you weren’t on the verge of passing out and forcing him to carry you back to your dorm. “I… I’ll think about it. I’ll try.” And you would. You’d try, at least, like you always did when Azul pulled you aside and told you to stop embarrassing him with your week-long flings. “If I wait long enough, I might even be able to find someone like you, Azul.”

There was a long, silent lapse.

Then, Azul’s hand fell to the small of his back, and you felt your strength snap and give out. You thought, distantly, about batting his hand away, about teasing him for how uncharacteristically affectionate he was being tonight, but you just couldn’t seem to make yourself move, to keep yourself upright. You felt your body slump against Azul’s side, and without missing a beat, he caught you, wrapping an arm around your waist and letting out a shallow sigh.

“Right,” he muttered, as your eyes finally fell shut. You felt like you’d been hollowed out, sapped of something warm and vital and left to gently float into an unwelcome unconsciousness. You tried to scream, but your mouth wouldn’t open, your lips sealed and your tongue useless. You tried to wake up, but that only seemed to drag you down farther, to pull you that much deeper into that awful, exhausting fog.

“Maybe one day, love.”

You woke up to the feeling of something inside of you and cold water lapping against your skin.

In your drugged daze, the latter somehow seemed to take priority over the former. It wasn’t just cold, it was freezing, worse than the Coral Sea in the dead of winter, when the ice drifts blotted out the sun and a stray current alone could send you into hypothermic shock. It only came up to your waist, but you felt the chill run up your spine, spreading through your veins and turning your blood to ice. If you’d been able to move, you would’ve been shivering. If you’d been able to think clearly, you would’ve been more afraid.

But you could move, even if you couldn’t think. You managed to lift your hand, bringing it into your line of sight only to find a slick, pitch-black tentacle wrapped around your end, its suckers latched onto your skin and its dull point tangled around your fingers. You recognized it in an instant – Azul’s, down to the lilac-grey underside and the permeant compression marks etched into the tip, earned through countless hours of writing up contracts. You hadn’t him in his true form since you enrolled in NRC. You wondered what would be important enough for him to break his streak now.

Another wave of frigid water broke against your midriff, and you felt something quirk inside of you. It was a tight, bad feeling – a string of tension wound tight enough to coil in on itself, to ache and throb as your cunt stretched around something thick and awful and a soft, blunt head rubbed and flicked against your inner walls. Wait, that was right – something was inside of you, thrusting as it curled and twisted and thrashed. You felt it curve in on itself, the base rising to grind against your clit as it moved, and you bolted upward, taking a gasping breath. It didn’t stop you. The tentacles wrapped around both your wrists and draped over your legs weighed you down but offered no resistance as you straighten your back, as you panted and blinked and ran your hand over your stomach, half-expecting to feel a bump where it was stabbing into you. You didn’t find what you were looking for, though, or maybe you did, you couldn’t tell, your attention already moving on to the wading pool you were laying in, shallow but wide and full enough for the water to spill over the sides, and then the thing on top of you, your eyes eventually land on–

On Azul.

Azul.

Your mouth fell open, a plea for him to help you dying in your throat. He looked as strung-out as you felt; his hair pushed away from his face, giving you a perfect view of his half-lidded eyes, his parted lips, the dark blush painted across his cheeks. His hands were braced on either side of you, edging too near to your hips for comfort, and you were suddenly aware of just how close he was to you, his chest a breath from pressing into yours. Even that distance was a temporary luxury, gone as soon as your eyes met and he let out a hitched groan, falling forward until his face was buried in your neck and you couldn’t so much as imagine getting away from him.

Your hands flew to his shoulders, your legs thrashing weakly as you attempted to push him away, but now, now he chose to restrain you, his spare arms dragging yours down until they were pinned to your sides. Your legs were caught up in his tentacles, too; a pair wrapping around your thighs and spreading them apart, dragging you deeper into the water and leaving you unable to hold yourself up. His breath was as cold as the water, fanning over your skin and making the heat beginning to drip down the inside of your thighs that much more unbearable. You heard him whine, the noise pitchy and desperate, going on for seconds before he seemed to find the will to actually speak. You weren’t sure which would’ve been worse – hearing his voice in a place like this, or watching him abuse your body without so much as an apology.

“You’re tight.” There was a stilted inhale, a trembling groan. “I— Fuck, I knew you would be, but it’s like your body’s been waiting for this as long as I have. It’s like—” His voice gave out, a manic smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “It’s like we were made for each other.”

He sounded so happy. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen him excited about something other than schemes and contracts and profit margins measured down to the last stray cent. Usually, the closest you got was a sense of smug condescension – a certain light in his eyes and a manic zeal in his grin. This was different. This was so, so much worse.

You felt his mouth latch onto your throat, pointed teeth nipping at the skin just above your jugular before burrowing into you, drawing enough blood to drip down your chest and tint the water pink. He wasn’t satisfied with a single mark, either; his attention falling lower, to the curve of your shoulder, then the vulnerable flesh just above your collarbone. As his concentration wavered, you were allowed to slump forward, but yet another tentacle found its way to your neck, wrapping loosely around your throat, applying just enough pressure to keep you upright. It reminded you of how Azul would correct your posture when he caught you hunching over your desk, or how he’d tell you to stand just a little closer to his side while he was talking to the other dorm leaders, to sit next to him rather than across the room while he was meeting with a student who spared anything more than a stray glance in your direction. He’d never been afraid to pose you. This was just an extension of that, really – a more honest version of the same bad habit.

The rough underside of the tentacle inside of you rubbed against the walls of your pussy, and you imagined digging your nails into his cheek, clawing at his eyes, kicking and thrashing and yelling until someone heard you, until Azul decided the risk wasn’t worth the reward, but you couldn’t bring yourself to so much as attempt to move, to fight against his bondage. It was all you could do to watch him from a distance, to force yourself to be vaguely aware of what he was doing to you. The tentacle inside of you fell into a steady rhythm, and Azul’s hand fell to your clit, clumsily circling the hypersensitive bundle of nerves. His inexperience was apparent, his usual air of confidence discarded in favor of seeking his pleasure and forcing the same misplaced bliss onto you. You didn’t resist, but you jerked away from his touch. If he noticed that you were trying to get away from him, though, if he could see your pained expression or grit teeth, he didn’t seem to care, to think of it as anything other than you bucking into his hand. He tilted his head back, his pale eyes flickering towards your face, a wide smile plastering itself across his lips. Slowly, joltingly, he pulled himself back to your height and before you could brace yourself, his lips were crashing into yours. Teeth scraped against teeth, his tongue pressed into yours, and you thought, through the daze, that this might’ve been his first kiss. You couldn’t remember him mentioning anything, ever telling you about a pretty girl or cute boy who’d caught his eye. In fact, you couldn’t remember him ever mentioning anything about love or romance at all.

Huh.

It made sense, once you took a step back.

You didn’t kiss back. Obviously, you didn’t kiss back. Azul didn’t seem to care. He was panting by the time he pulled away from you, his blush darker and his pupils blown out with lust. You felt the tentacle inside of you twitch, and thought for the first time that it might not be a tentacle at all but something too terrible to name. You were almost thankful when the tentacle around your neck slipped past your lips and forced your teeth apart, giving you something to think about aside from that awful, slick thing inside of you, aside from the revolting heat slowly beginning to curl and flicker in your core. The tapered tip brushed against the back of your throat and you gagged violently, the air hitching in your throat and your body lurching against his. Azul’s grin grew broader, his pace rougher. “You’re going to cum.” It wasn’t an order or a question, just an assessment, an observation. A prediction you could only hope wouldn’t come true. “That’s alright. That’s perfect. I want you to. I’ve waited so long to—”

His voice cut out with an airy groan. He pressed himself closer to you, his stare boring into skin and his lips ghosting over yours. You tried to turn away, to clench your eyes shut, but his hands came up, cupping your face and pulling you back to him. The tentacle assaulting your mouth jutted deeper, forcing you to open your eyes, to meet his. He was crying – you could see the tear tracks running down his cheeks, carving trails across his pale skin. He was smiling, wider than you’d ever seen him smile before.

“I tried to give you a chance.” He was muttering, now, the words barely audible and entirely deafening all at once. “I tried, but this is what you drove me to.” He rested his forehead against yours, drove his nails into your jaw. “This was the only way I could show you that we were made for each other.”

Made for each other. Made for each other.

The conviction in his voice was so steadfast that, maybe, in another scenario, you probably would’ve believed him.

A tight, searing heat washed over you. Your body went rigid, tensing up as your vision burnt white and your cunt clenched around his tentacle. At the same time, something burst open inside of you, filling you with something hot and horrible and so much worse than the water you were still submerged in, the water you wished would’ve drowned you minutes ago. Rather than pull back, you felt Azul draw closer, wind around you tighter, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t.

Going limp, you leaned against the edge of the pool and closed your eyes, letting your mind drift far, far away. Azul let you, his hands falling away but his tentacles persisting with their grinding and groping and invading. It didn’t matter. It was like Azul said – you were made for each other, right?

You could only wonder how long ago he’d decided that.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland masterlist #twisted wonderland imagines #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #yandere twst #twst imagines #twst x reader #twst #azul x reader #yandere azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #yanderecore #yancore

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dduane · 5 months

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Peter Mum's Soda Bread Recipe

With work around here the way it is at the moment, most likely EuropeanCuisines.com won't be up again until the end of the year. (shrug) Such is life.

With that in mind, here per @the-book-of-night-with-moon 's request is the famous soda bread recipe that brought people to the site again and again for a couple of decades. If the recipe below seems very plain, that's because the way soda bread is done in North America and elsewhere in the world is not how everyday soda bread's made in Ireland. No fruit, no sugar—except for an optional spoonful if the baker likes it: I omit it—no nuts or other similar addenda: nothing but flour, salt, soda and (ideally) buttermilk. (Breads here that do have fruit and whatnot are referred to as "tea breads" or "fruit soda".)

The ingredients:

450 g / 1 lb / approximately 3 1/4 cups flour (either cake flour or all-purpose)

Optional: 1 teaspoon sugar

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon bicarbonate of soda

Between 300-350 ml / approx 10-12 fluid ounces buttermilk, sour / soured milk, or plain ("sweet") milk, to mix

If you're using plain milk, add 1 teaspoon of baking powder to the dry ingredients. This is perfectly legit; lots of professional bakers in Ireland do their soda bread this way, without the buttermilk and with additional raising ingredients besides baking soda.

So: preheat your oven to 200C / 400F. Meanwhile, mix the dry ingredients together well in a good-sized bowl, and then add the liquid and mix everything together. Like this:

youtube

That raggedy texture you see in the middle of the video is exactly what you want, and part of the secret of getting soda bread to rise properly. You have to get the loaf done as quickly as you can, so that the rise in the oven is maximized; and with minimum handling. This isn't a bread that needs to be kneaded. Just get it into a soft, mostly-cohesive lump as quickly and gently as you can, and shape it into a round about an inch to an inch and a half thick.

Finally have ready a really sharp knife to do that final cross-cut, which allows the loaf to spread and rise fully. Be careful to slice, not press. You don't have to cut incredibly deep: from a third to halfway down the round is plenty. ...There's endless online lore about how this is supposed to let the fairies out. Fond as I am of fairies, I prefer to think of it as letting the chemistry and physics out. (shrug) To each their own.

As soon as the oven's come up to heat, shove the loaf into the center of the oven on a nonstick baking sheet—I used a silicone mat here, but more for the look of the thing than any real concern about the loaf sticking—and bake it for 40 minutes. When you're done, it should look something like the one in the picture at the top of the post. It'll be easier to eat if you let it cool down most of the way; and a lot easier to slice if you put it in a paper or plastic bag overnight.

Anyway, tomorrow, so @petermorwood won't sulk, I'll make soda bread in the farl style instead of the above style that some of the locals call "cake". Farl's done on a griddle and cut into quarters for baking, and its geometry makes it uniquely suited (as Peter's father used to say) for eating large amounts of butter without a spoon. :)

ETA: attn @middleagedandoutoftouch: Check out the gluten-free soda bread from Ballymaloe. ...And there seem to be quite a few more of them out there: try this Google search.

#soda bread #baking #recipe #recipes #Ireland

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redstarwriting · 11 months

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happy birthday

miles morales x reader

request?: yes

request: “I LOVEDDD THE HC’S OMG OMG WORK OF ART!!! i was wondering if you would write something expanding on getting miles’ doodles tatted as an adult!! i would love to read more abt it, it’s so cutee”

requested by: anon

word count: 2.2k

genre: fluff

Warnings: language, tattoos, mentions of tattoos and needles, Miles is so sweet it's sick

A/N: GLADLY!! i've been itching to get a new tattoo since the minute i got my first like three years ago and writing this just made me want to get another one so bad LMAO. i hope you enjoy!

also in case you were wondering what hcs anon is talking about, it's my pda/general affection hcs i wrote for hobie and miles! you can check it out here if you haven't already and feel compelled to :)

───────────────────────────────────

“Miles! Baby, can you give me a tattoo?” you ask, and he smiles. This has become a common practice in your relationship. From the time y’all were kids in love to now, you would always ask him for a tattoo. Of course, he didn’t actually give you tattoos, he just drew on your arm. He’s mentioned you, and even urged you, to get a tattoo every now and again. Especially when he offered to design them, but you always say his temporary ones are more special than any other tattoo you could get. He isn’t upset about it. He genuinely loves drawing on you. “Of course, babe. Come here,” he says, motioning you over to him as he grabs his markers he has specifically for your “tattoos.” You go over to him, sitting between his legs and extending your arm. “Can you draw it right next to the uh… elbow pit?” you say, and he laughs. “Elbow pit?”

“Yeah, like the inside of my arm and not on the bicep part or the elbow pit part, but the forearm part by the elbow pit,” you explain, pointing to the area you’re talking about. He chuckles. “Elbow pit.”

“Well, what else would it be called?” you ask, smiling, and he grins, starting to doodle on your arm. “I’ll text and ask my mom what the scientific name for it is after I’m done here,” he says, and you lean your head back against his shoulder. “Oh, god, please don’t tell her I called it an elbow pit.”

“Oh, I’m totally telling her you called it that,” he teases, placing a quick peck on your lips before returning his attention to your arm. He draws a spiderweb, of course, but in the shape of a heart. He adds his Miles touch to it by making it look like the web was spraypainted, and having it pop with black and red. You don’t even look at the tattoo as he draws it, you just stare at his face. You love watching him when he does his art. You assume it’s similar to the way his face looks when he’s swinging around the city as Spider-Man. He’s in his element, laser-focused and yet has an ease about him that mesmerizes you. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he says, smirking and turning his attention to you. You feel your face heat up but roll your eyes. “Can’t, arm’s a bit preoccupied.”

“You can get creative; I have an idea. Maybe use the one I’m not drawing on?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, and he shakes his head. “What do you think, amor?” he asks, and you look. You smile. “I love it, Miles. Thank you,” you say, kissing him on the cheek. He grins, wrapping his arms around your waist as you admire his art. “What time is it?” you ask, and he glances at his phone. “11:15. Why?”

“Ganke and I are gonna go get some lunch today.”

“Should I be worried?” Miles jokes. “No, dummy. We’re just talking about… something happening soon,” you say, and a sly smile spreads across Miles’ face. “How soon?”

“I’ve said too much,” you say, trying to get up. Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend is Spider-Man and can easily hold you in place. “Nuh uh, how soon is this something happening?” he looks at you with a shit-eating grin, and you roll your eyes. “Wouldn’t you like to know, spider boy?”

“I would. Is it, and this is just a wild guess… something happening tomorrow? A special something happening on a very special day?” he guesses, and you sigh. “Don’t tell Ganke you found out…”

“I knew it!”

“We’re supposed to be planning your birthday party, yes. For tomorrow. On your birthday. Are you happy you spoiled it for yourself now?” you feign annoyance, and he laughs. “I am, actually. Now I know to look good for you tomorrow.” You roll your eyes. “You always look nice, Miles.”

“Only for you,” he grins at you, turning your face to look at him. The two of you share a kiss before it’s interrupted by his police scanner going off. He frowns slightly. “It’s okay, Miles. I gotta go soon anyways,” you give him a quick peck for squeezing out of his arms. He sighs. “Fine, fine. Guess I’ll go save the city. Be the best thing that ever happened to New York and all that.”

“My hero,” you joke, and he grins. “You know it,” he says, slipping his mask on and sliding his everyday clothes off. “I’ll see you later, Miles. Stay safe. Love you.”

“You stay safe, too. Love you more.” He leaps out of the window, and you make sure he’s gone before you call Ganke. “Yo, what’s up?”

“You gotta plan Miles’ birthday party tomorrow.”

“Woah, what?” You sigh. “I already have the roof of our building booked out for it, I ordered the cake already and will pick it up tomorrow and have all the decorations. You just need to invite everyone, okay?”

“You mean I have to reach out to people in different dimensions, tell them to clear their schedules for tomorrow, and hope for the best?” Ganke asks, and you hum into the phone. “Yep! Thanks, Ganke! Also, if Miles asks, we went and got lunch, okay?”

“And where are you really going?”

“I’m getting a tattoo to surprise him for his birthday tomorrow,” you say, grabbing your keys and putting some money in your pocket. You put Ganke on speaker, sending a quick text to Hobie. “You need to stop using me as a cover-up, (Y/n).”

“Who else am I supposed to use? Gwen?” you say, and Ganke sighs. “I mean, yeah, you know she would be down to help you with something like this.”

“Ganke she is so bad at keeping secrets like that, and you know it,” you say, admiring the art on your arm again. “Then use Hobie.”

“Wait that’s actually a good idea,” you say, “Especially since he’s the one giving me the tattoo.”

“AND YOU STILL USED ME?!”

“I PANICKED! He was asking questions! Just, listen, invite as many people as you can think of, alright? Please, and thank you.”

“Fine. Go get inked or whatever they say,” Ganke says. The two of you give some quick goodbyes before hanging up. You receive a reply from Hobie, and a portal opens in Miles and your bedroom. You step through it and find yourself in Hobie’s flat. “Can I just say it’s about damn time you got one of ‘is works tattooed onto ya,” Hobie says, motioning to his couch. You sit and he gets his whole get-up ready, all the cleaning wipes and gloves and the tattoo gun all ready to go. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’m getting it now and that’s what matters,” you say, and he clicks his tongue. “I can guarantee ya this is just gonna be the beginning. Kinda becomes an addiction,” he says, sitting next to you, and fiddling with his gun. “Then I guess I’ll just need to have Miles draw on me even more.” He chuckles. “Lemme see it.”

You show him the drawing, and Hobie shakes his head. “Your man is corny,” he says, and you shrug. “I like it.”

“I know,” he dips his gun in ink, and looks at you, “Ya ready?” You nod, and he begins tattooing Miles’ art onto your skin. The two of you talk the whole time, really, and you let him know about the party tomorrow. He, of course, agrees to come, and can’t wait to see Miles’ reaction. It takes a few hours, but eventually he finishes up and it looks exactly like Miles just drew it on your skin. Hobie places fake skin over it and gives you the rundown of how to take care of it. He turns away from you to put something away, and you quickly slip $100 under a pillow on the couch. You know he won’t accept any money from you because he’s ‘not a capitalist pig,’ so you have to be sneaky with it. “Thank you so much, Hobie,” you say, and he winks at you. “Anythin’ for my mate’s better ‘alf.”

He opens the portal again, and you two say bye until tomorrow. You’re back home, literally, in no time, and you quickly throw one of the hoodies Miles left lying around on. This way he won’t see the tattoo, and you can play it off like you missed him. Especially since you did kind of miss him and it is sort of a staple in your relationship that you wear his clothes when you do. That’ll make him melt and he’ll forget all about the art on your arm. And you were absolutely right.

It ended up being a late night for Spider-Man, and when he got home, he saw you curled up on the couch, sleeping with his hoodie on, and all he could think about was that you missed him. He carefully picked you up and carried you to your shared bed. You started to wake up as soon as he was getting in bed after taking a shower and cleaning up, and he began desperately trying to get you to go back to sleep. “What time is it?” you groggily ask. “It’s like 3am, (Y/n/n), I’m here now, we can go to sleep, okay?” he says, slipping into bed next to you and pulling you on top of his chest. “Happy birthday!” you sleepily say, burying your face into his chest. He smiles. “Thank you, amor. Let’s get back to sleep now, yeah?” You make a muffled mmhmm sound and are out like a light almost immediately. Miles smiles to himself, wondering how he got this lucky.

You can imagine his disappointment when he wakes up the next day and you’re not snug against his chest, but he feels better the minute he sees a little note on his chest that explains you’ll be home, you just had to go do something for him. He gets up and decided he can do his Spider-Man duties until you text him and let him know he needs to come home. It may be his birthday, but the city still needs it’s defender. So that’s exactly what he does. He cannot explain how grateful he is that none of the big bads were trying to start anything today, because if he didn’t get to see you and eat a slice of cake, he was going to scream. The day went slower than he wanted but also sped by when eventually he got a text from you saying to come home. He immediately obliges, swinging in through the window and putting on some of his nicest clothes. He walks out of your room and sees you chilling on the couch. “Miss me?” he asks, walking over and bending down to kiss your lips. You giggle. “Obviously. Hey, before we go up to the roof where there totally isn’t a party waiting for you, I wanna show you something, okay?”

“Okay,” he grins, and you grin back. “Cover your eyes.” He does as instructed, and hears you shift slightly. “Okay… open them.” He opens his eyes, and immediately sees his “tattoo” on your arm. Only it was covered in a clear wrap. And it’s real. His eyes get big, and he looks at your face. You give a small smile. “You always encouraged me to get a real tattoo, so… happy birthday.”

“Yo! It looks so good, hold up,” he gently grabs your arm and softly traces it through the saniderm. “When did you get this?”

“Yesterday.”

“You weren’t actually with Ganke, were you?”

“No, I was with Hobie,” you say, and he shakes his head. “I got a little liar on my hands, huh?”

“It wasn’t lying it was covering my ass because you ask too many damn questions,” you say, and he laughs. “I love it, (Y/n/n).” You smile and the two of you share a kiss. “We should probably get up there. Some people are waiting. Oh, and pretend like you haven’t seen it yet. Hobie wants to see your reaction.” Miles laughs. “Alright. Well, I hope he knows I’m not gonna stop drawing on you. And that he fully traced my art,” Miles says, and you shake your head. “I’m sure he knows, Miles. You really like it?”

“Like it? Baby, I told you I love it. I love you; I love this tattoo; I love that this is a birthday present from you… everything about this? I love it. I don’t even need to go up there to make the day better because all I need is you,” he says, and you smile. “Hobie was right. You’re so corny.”

“Nah, hold on, he said that? Forget everything I just said it’ll be a perfect day when I punch him.” You laugh as the two of you make your way up to the party. But the whole time, Miles keeps finding his eyes drifting to your tattoo. Something about having his art on you permanently makes his heart swell with pride and happiness. And he and Hobie were both right.

It’s not the only “tattoo” that will become real.

───────────────────────────────────

#miles morales x reader #spiderman x reader #miles x reader #spiderverse x reader #atsv x reader #miles morales #spiderman #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #atsv

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smuthospital · 7 months

Text

⭐️Yandere Gojo x reader⭐️

Premise: You're so lonely, and your boyfriend isn't paying any attention to you, so you download an app to make friends. You meet the wrong guy (Gojo), and bad things happen.

Content warning: NON CON, Cheating, gn reader

MINORS DNI

"I'm busy right now and you know that. I told you not to call me!" The phone beeps and the call ends, leaving you alone in deafening silence. Your boyfriend has always been rough around the edges, but you love him despite his flaws. He has his moments that remind you why you like him so much. Lately, he's been busy with all sorts of things. Work, family, his hobbies. You live together, but he's always out. He doesn't even return at night sometimes. You understand he needs his alone time, but it's been so long since you've seen him. You called to ask if you could visit him at work and give him a little surprise. You baked him chocolate chip cookies! They're delicious and made with love. Tears prick your eyes as you toss your phone to the side. You're so lonely. You've never had many friends, just your boyfriend. Too many people just make you tired.

You pick up your phone and almost call him again out of reflex. You just wish you had someone to talk to again. You saw an advertisement for a popular friend making app awhile ago. You decide to download it because you don't have much to lose. search it up. You write a few things about yourself, add your favorite song as well as a few pictures of yourself. You cross your fingers, hoping not to match any creeps. You swipe right on a lot of girls aswell as guys. You stated in your bio that you're in a commited relationship to ward off any horny guys. Girls don't reply to you, much to your disappointment. You end up getting quite a lot of messages from flirty guys. The relationship warning seemed to have no affect at all.

Toji: How much for a pair of pantys?

Sukuna: (Sent a photo) *Blocked*

Todo: I know it grips. Please lemme hit

25 new messages!

Geez. It's only been an hour. These guys are like hungry raccoons and you feel like a can of cat food. You scroll through and see one that looks relatively innocent

Gojo: Hey :)

You: Hello!

Gojo: What's up? I saw that you have a cat! They're so cute! Also, you're gorgeous

You: Thank you! That's my lil baby right there

You and him quickly get along. Still no word from your boyfriend, you sigh, defeated. The cookies can wait. You tell him about your boyfriend and how you never see him that much anymore. Be seems to take interest in this and becomes quite upset that you're not treated with the love you deserve. You friendship goes on for a few days. He occasionally trys to flirt with you, but you quickly shut it down each time, politely asking him to respect your boundaries. His nickname for you is gorgeous and although it makes you a bit uncomfortable, it feels too good to hear for you to ask him to stop. He's your only friend at the moment so you really don't want to make him go away.

You: Still no reply from my boyfriend. I hope he's okay.

Gojo: What the fuck. If I had a girl like you, I'd never leave her alone. He's probably cheating

You: What? He'd never. He's not like that!

Gojo: Trust me, I'm a guy, I know. Just look at the way he treats you. You're such a sweet and polite doll and he's making you feel this way, neglecting you. He makes you feel like shit. This is abuse😡

You: Oh it's really not like that, he's really sweet!

Gojo: There you go again...I can treat you better. Just give me one chance. Nobody has to know. You can leave this abusive relationship.

You: We talked about this, I'm have a boyfriend and I love him. Don't say stuff like that, please

Gojo: I'm just sayin

You: Thank you tho, it's sweet that you care. Do you like cookies? I was saving these for my boyfriend, but he's too busy to receive them. They'll go to waste if they're not eaten

Gojo: YES. SEND THE COOKIES. You wanna come over tomorrow? I know you're free. Come to my place, we can watch movies and cuddle with cookies!

You: What!? I can't go over to a guy's house! That's weird! And cuddle!?

Gojo: Nono it's not. We're just friends. And your boyfriend doesn't have to know. It's not a big deal. I have some old wine we can drink. Pretty please

You: I don't drink tho. I'm not sure. I haven't known you for too long. What if you try to take my kidneys! :0

Gojo: Common..would I do that!?? Ridiculous. Don't over think it. Let's watch a scary movie. It'll be real scary. I can't watch it alone! Pleeeeaaase!!!

You: ...Ok...as long as its scary. I wouldn't want you to get too scared

You've never seen Gojo in person, but you're sort of desperate to keep him around as a friend. In his photos, his eyes are covered. You don't question why. You step off the bus at the address he texted you, cookie basket in hand. It's a tall, expensive looking condo. You walk into the nice building and spot him leaning against a wall you in the lobby. He's not what you expected at all. You've seen a pictures of him before, but he didn't look so large and intimidating. He's stupid tall and He practically towers over your frame. He crouches slightly and wraps his arms around you in a tight hug, surprising you with the sudden contact.

"Hey, (y/n)! It's nice to see you in person! You're so much more sexy up close." His voice as soft satin sheets and deep and melodic as a cat purring. He eyes you up and down, his eyes half lidded. He's snapped out of his trance when you stutter a confused thank you. You're gonna brush that flirt off as nothing. "Common, let's go." He takes your soft, smaller hand in his ridiculously big hand and leads you to a fancy elevator and sticks a key into a key hole, confusing you. Since when do elevators do that? "The 21sr floor is mine." The whole floor is his? Is he loaded?

The whole time, you're blushing and stuttering, overly shy and nervous. 'Play it cool,(y/n)!' Your mind is over heating and he thinks it's absolutely adorable. When you get to his floor, he closes the door and silently locks it behind him. He plops on the couch, spreads his long legs out and patts the spot next to him. "Common! Take a seat!" You gingerly take a seat a little too far for his liking so he loops an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. You jump a bit. "Oh don't be shy! I don't bite." The last part of his sentence stood out to you a bit, but you're not sure why.

He offers you a drink and you accept. He hands you a cup of soda. "The conjuring is a classic. I actually haven't seen it before so I thought we could watch it." With that, he presses play and the movie starts. You're both eating the cookies you made. "These are so fucking good. You made these?" He whispers and you nod. Your blushing cheeks are so cute. He's already eaten three. It's heartwarming. Halfway into the movie, he shuffles in his seat and surprises you by picking you up and placing you on his lap with ease. "Hey! What are you doing!?" You try to slide off, but he holds you in place. "Hey hey calm down, I'm not doing anything!" You stop thrashing, but don't stop struggling. "Oh yeah!? Let me off, you said no funny buissness!" You feel slightly tired for some reason. "I'm only trying to cuddle you better! If not for me, then for you. I bet you miss being cuddled. I know you already have a boyfriend so don't worry, there's nothing weird about it!" With that, you stop struggling, too worn out to argue. "...Mm ok." Near the end of the movie, he shifts slightly under you. "Gojo?" No response. You feel somthing hard under your ass. He starts to shift you back and fourth a bit. "Huh? Gojo?" He just keeps shifting you, holding your hips tightly. "Ow! You're squeezing me too tight. What are you doin-"

One of his hands snake up to your chest and cup your breast. The motion freezes you in place.

"I'm better than your stupid boyfriend. He's so ungreatful. I bet you also miss getting fucked, don't you?" It was more of a statement rather than a question.I can make you feel good, better than he ever did. God, you're so hot. This guy is such a loser for passing you up. I'd never be like him. I've been wanting for this since I first saw you. I know you think I'm attractive too. I see the way you eye me"

The hand holding down your hip moves between your thighs to cup your clit. You heart sinks into your stomach as the weight of the situation falls upon you. You have never felt more stupid in your entire life. Just as you suck in a breath to scream, the hand on your breast shoots up to cover your mouth, muffling any sound. You try to slsp his hands off, but your arms are a little weaker than before. All you could do was patt his arms and wiggle around, which he completely ignores.

"Ah ah-be good. I couldn't stop thinking of you. I've only known you for a bit, but that's enough for me." He grinds his clothed cock against your ass and groans in pleasure.

After a few minutes, he stands up with you in his arms and walks with you to his bedroom. He tosses you on his bed and immediately gets on top, holding you down with his hips as he removs his shirt. He looks down at your horrified face and licks his lips. He wastes no time in literally ripping your shirt and bra off. You hear the tear as it leaves you. With one hand, he roughly palms your chest and tweaks a nipple. He unzips his dark purple pants with his other hand, his swollen cock practically flying out and slamming down above your belly button. You gasp at the sight of it, the weight alone is hefty. Much like his entire self, it's big and scary.

Your eyes fill with tears and you do the only think you could. Your body can't possibly struggle and even if you could, he could easily over power you. "Please-please don't hurt me. Please don't do this to me!" He looks at you with sympathy in his eyes. "Shh it's ok. I'd never hurt you. I'm not like your stupid boyfriend. I'm gonna make you feel good. Then you'll be mine..I see that drug I have you fully kicked in." You pail at his words. It's over. You're not getting out of this one. You're going to be raped by this psychopath. You think of your poor boyfriend. You wish he could burst through the door and save you. His name bubbles from your mouth pathetically.

"Speaking of him." Gojo slides your phone out of your pocket and clicks around. First, he disables your location, then he raises your phone and takes a photo of you. He quickly sends it to himself and your boyfriend.

You: We're having a good time. Bet you're jealous

A few minutes of groping later, your boyfriend responds.

❤️Geto❤️: Absolutely not. You're both disgusting. I fucking knew you were whoring yourself. You got a big head because you think you're pretty. I was wondering why you were trying to look nice recently.

❤️Geto❤️: You're like a bitch in heat. You're just an easy, worthless whore. Glad I didn't waste too much on you.

❤️Geto❤️: Go fuck yourself. Or better yet, have some guy do it for free. Get aids and die, bitch. You have a day to pick up all your shit before I toss it.

(You've been blocked by this number)

Gojo turns the screen towards you and your eyes tear up as you read the texts. You have no idea how your boyfriend could have possibly interpreted your situation as consentual. It could be that you're not tied up and gagged, nor unconscious. As he said, he expected this from you. Either way, he obviously doesn't love you anymore. Tears pour down your cheeks. How could he? After all this time? To do this to you. You'd never cheat! Your heart shatters in your chest, suddenly feeling hollow.

Gojo chuckles and sets the phone to the side. He wipes your tears away with his thumb. "See? What did I tell you? He was never the one for you. I'd never say that to you, sweety. I'd never treat you like that. I just exposed him for what he is; a scum bag." He tugs your pants down and off your legs with ease, despite your light kicking. A large grin on his face as he does so

"You ready?" He positions his cock at your dry entrance and laughs. "Because I am." He shoves himself in, but only makes it three inches in before he hits a barrier and you gasp in pain and start thrashing your body. "P-please take it out. It-it hurts!" He's genuinely shocked. "Y-you're a virgin? Didn't you say you have a boyfriend?"

You wiggle a bit, trying to elevate some pain yourself before answering him.

"We never...you..know.." Your face burns with shame. His cock only seems to swell with more blood at the news.

He bursts out laughing. "This makes so much sense now! No wonder why you looked elsewhere to fulfill your needs. He doesn't want to fuck. Is he gay?Does his dick even work? Maybe he's not cheating. He didn't even fuck you once. I could tell how bad you wanted it, but your limp dick boyfriend wouldn't give you any. I'm glad to be the one to have your first time."

Your bloodshot eyes drift to the side. You don't want to admit that he was right. Every time you would try to start something with your boyfriend, he'd push you away. Your boyfriend really didn't have much of a labido, but you didn't look for friends to have sex with other men.

"I know it hurts, but you can take it. It'll go away. Just hold still...or struggle. I like a challenge." His words are evil, but his smile is so charming. He's like the devil. He pulls his cock out and thrusts in again, deeper than before, breaking your hymen and forcing the air to leave your body. He then pulls out and slams into you again, bottoming out. His cock is so big, you swear you could feel it in your stomach. You look down, eyes blown wide as you see an imprint of his cock in your lower abdomen. He lets out a loud moan and throws his head back. "You're so fucking tight." You put your hands on his chest, hoping that would be enough to keep him still. Wishful thinking. He just takes your smaller wrists in his large hands and leans over you, lodging himself deeper than he was before, cock assaulting your cervix, making your body jolt. You accidentally let out a pained cry that could be mistaken as a moan.

Gojo smiles, perfect white teeth on display "Oh, you like that?" He slams into that spot again and again, making your eyes roll into the back of your head, and your tongue rolls out of your mouth. Lewd sounds spill from your mouth with the occasional "No." "Please." and "Stop." Your sobbing dies down, not having any more tears to cry. You feel a tightening in your lower belly and curl your toes. "Nng G-Gojo!"

"Fuck yeah, say my name!" He pounds into your poor pussy with astonishing speed and strength. "Say you'll be my girlfriend. I can take care of you, I can love you. You'll never feel alone again."

Your face flushes red at his words. Those words are all you need to tip over the edge. You aren't sure if he meant it or not, but just the thought of being so loved takes you to cloud nine. A warm feeling washes over you and you cry out in pleasure. You want what he promised more than anything in the world. With your last braincell, you weigh your options. Nobody loves you, you have nowhere to go, no one to turn to and Your boyfriend kicked you out. "I...I'll be with you." What choice did you have? Be homeless?

The bashful look you give him sends shivers down his spine. He leanes down and gives you a tender kiss on the lips which you very hesitantly return, much to his enjoyment. His hot breath tickles your face as his hips hammer into you, forcing cute music from your mouth for him. Your cunt tightening impossibly around his thick mass. His pace becoming sloppy and before you could ask him to pull out, he shoves himself deep within you one last time. With a lewd moan he fills your tummy up with his seed. Your eyes cross at the warm, pleasurable sensation. The feeling of being filled up like a puff pastry, his hot creamy cum temporarly stupifying you. Your tummy now bloated by the sheer volume. He takes another picture.

He wasn't looking for a girlfriend, but how could he possibly deny himself such a sweet little thing. A sweet, doting, cookie baking girlfriend as cute as you comes as often as a shooting star. You'd do anything for the man you loved. Too wifey to pass up. Finders keepers. He's going to make sure that no one ever does to you what he just did to you. You're his now.

He rolls the two of you so he's spooning your back, your ass pressed against him, his cock still firmy lodged into your weeping cunt. He pulls the blanket up and the two of you fall asleep together. You pretty much pass out from the exhaustion.

The next morning, he drives you to your now x boyfriends appartment to collect your things. You and Gojo take the elevator to the apartment. He stays out of sight, but stays where he can hear you. You knock on the door and your Geto opens up. The smell of alcohol hits you and you gag. "Well if it isn't the slut. Get your shit."

He turns his back and begins to walk away, but you grab his arm and gently tug him toward you. "Please listen to me...he raped me...I didn't want to.. do any-" You were cut off by him shoving you to the ground roughly, your head knocking against the wall on your way down. You grunt in pain. "Don't you use that shit on me!" He shouts.

Tears fill your eyes as you scramble to collect your things and run out. Gojo is at the front door now, having heard the commotion. He steps in the apartment and grabs your shoulders.

"What's wrong? Did he touch you?"

"...I..hit my head." Your tiny voice is unconvincing.

"Take your things to the car. I'm just gonna have a quick chat with him." He pays your butt and you walk off with your things. Geto has been watching the interaction with clenched fists.

"You're the fuck that stole my girl. You can fucking have her and pass her around to whoever the fuck you want. For your information, that cunt tried to tell me you raped her, using you as her scape goat." Gojo can just barley understand the drunken shouting of your x boyfriend. Gojo smiles, the smugest of grins crossing his face.

"...That's because I did"

Geto froze in place, not believing his ears. His girlfriend..was actually just raped? And not only did he do absolutely nothing, but he kicked her out and hurt her?

"...What?" It wasn't really a question.

"Finders keepers. I have no clue why you're so upset. You didn't love her. She was so lonely when I found her. I wanted her so I took her. Make no mistake, she said no. Cried for you. You should feel like shit. Not believing your own sweet little girlfriend and then laying your hand on her in her time of need. I'm not even going to beat you for that, you'd treat yourself like a victim. Better luck next time though. Try satisfying your bitch before they're stolen. Thanks for the girlfriend." Gojo says, walking back to the car, Geto still too frozen in shock to react. He falls to his knees, clinching his head. Gojo meets you in the car, your things already in the back. He leans over to your side and gives you a passionate kiss on the lips, tongue diving into your mouth. Your face burns brightly and you cant help but kiss him back. You disconnect, a string of saliva connecting you to him. "So what do you want to eat, baby?"

The car drives off and you don't feel so bad about the situation anymore.

Fun fact: I got the idea to make this when I was lonely and my boyfriend (now x) wasn't paying attention to me so I downloaded an app to make friends and a guy I thought was my friend started being really pushy and I found out men are stupid dogs.

#yandere x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #x reader #lemon #non con #yandere #dead dove do not eat

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writingforstraykids · 4 days

Text

Always back to you - Chp.3🖤

Pairing: Minho x m!Reader (mention of OT8)

Word Count: 4332

Summary: Minho and you slowly find your way back together once he's released from the hospital. Minjun's birthday party brings you both closer than ever before ...

Warnings/Tags: fluff, single dad!min, angst, domestic shit

A/N: Thank you for all the love for the first part especially🤭 I'll have a very busy day tomorrow, so you'll get the next part today already instead🤭🖤

PART TWO | PART FOUR (coming soon)

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

You immediately take up the responsibility of caring for Minjun, ensuring that Minho has no worries as he recovers. You bring Minjun to your home and transform it into a safe haven for the little boy who is confused and missing his dad.

You set up a schedule that balances fun activities and quiet time, keeping Minjun engaged and content. Mornings are spent in the garden, where you teach him how to plant seeds and water flowers, explaining the nature of growth and the care plants need to thrive—a subtle lesson you hope he translates into understanding his father’s situation.

Minjun enthusiastically takes to gardening, his curious nature soaking up every detail you offer. He frequently asks questions, his large eyes wide with wonder as he watches little bugs crawling around and you tell him more about them. “Does Daddy need water and sun to get better, too?” he asks one day, his innocence tugging at your heartstrings.

You chuckle softly, ruffling his hair. “Something like that, buddy. Your dad needs rest and a little bit of sunshine to regain his strength.”

During these days, Minjun often speaks of his father, his young mind trying to wrap around why his dad had to stay in the hospital. You assure him that his dad is getting stronger every day, and soon, they’ll be back to playing in the park and reading bedtime stories.

In the afternoons, you work on light educational activities like drawing and reading. Minjun loves to draw; his papers are filled with pictures of his garden and the plants and lots of drawings of him and his dad together, often with a big sun shining overhead. You send these drawings to Minho, who calls every evening to say goodnight, his voice always a mix of gratitude and wistfulness.

Each call becomes a little bridge, reconnecting the threads of the small family. Minho’s voice grows stronger each day, and his words begin to carry hope instead of just fatigue. He shares updates about his recovery, about the small victories of a full night’s sleep or a walk around the hospital ward without feeling dizzy.

One evening, as you and Minjun are setting up a board game in the living room, your phone buzzes. It’s Minho, and he’s calling a bit earlier than usual.

“Y/n, hey. I… I’m coming home tomorrow,” Minho’s voice is tentative, almost shy.

“That’s great news, Minho! Minjun will be so happy,” you respond, watching Minjun’s face light up at the mention of his dad.

“Can we… can I come over when I get back? I want to see Minjun, and I… I owe you a proper thank you,” Minho adds, his tone earnest.

“That's okay,” you assure him, feeling a complex knot of emotions at his return but happy for Minjun’s sake.

The next day is bright and sunny, and Minjun is practically vibrating with excitement. “Is Daddy coming now? Or now?” he asks every few minutes, peering out the window.

“Soon, little bug. Let’s go to the garden. We can show him how much everything has grown since he’s been gone,” you suggest, leading him outside.

You're both kneeling in the garden, Minjun excitedly pointing out each new sprout and blossom, when you hear the gate click. Looking up, you see Minho, thinner and a bit pale but smiling as he watches his son.

“Daddy!” Minjun screams, sprinting towards him with a speed that surprises both of you. Minho drops to his knees just in time to catch him, embracing him tightly. His eyes close as he buries his face in Minjun’s soft curls.

“I missed you so much, buddy,” Minho murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

“Missed you more,” Minjun replies, his small hands cupping his face as he kisses his nose.

You walk over slowly, giving them a moment, before Minho looks up at you, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “Y/nnie, thank you,” he says, standing up to face you. “It means a lot.”

“There’s no need to thank me, Minho. I’m just glad you’re okay,” you reply, your voice gentle.

“No, I need to say this,” Minho insists, taking a deep breath. “I was wrong, and I’m sorry for how I treated you. You’ve been nothing but kind, and I took that for granted. I hope I can make it up to both of you somehow.”

“One step after the other. For now, you should rest; we can talk properly later,” you suggest, offering a smile that Minho returns gratefully.

Minho reaches into his pocket, and you can hear him pulling out his keys. He stretches out his hand almost timidly, offering you your spare keys to his home. “You're always welcome. If not for me, then for him, please. I don't want him to suffer just because I fucked up.”

You hesitantly take them, able to tell he's trying to fix things. “I…I'll think about it. I need time, Min.”

“That's okay,” he assures you. “Your replacement is shit, by the way,” he says with a weak grin.

You chuckle softly. “No, that's you being used to someone handling things for you more than for the others,” you remind him. You inhale deeply and awkwardly rub your neck. “I'll also think about that, okay?”

“Okay,” he nods, unable to hide the hope in his orbs at the mere chance of you coming back. “I'm sorry.”

“I know,” you assure him. “Me too…Now, go rest, please. Call if you need something.”

“Bye, Y/nnie,” Minjun says, hugging you tightly as you get down on his level. “Love you.”

You swallow softly, a similar surprise lacing both Minho's and your features. “I love you too, buddy,” you answer honestly and squeeze him gently. “Now go home with your daddy, yeah?”

The quiet of the morning was filled only by the faint sounds of the city waking up beyond the walls of the small, cozy room where Minho found himself slowly coming to consciousness. As his senses sharpened, the first thing he became aware of was the warm, small body pressed against his side. Gently turning his head, he sees Minjun, his little baby, sleeping peacefully next to him, his chest rising and falling in the steady rhythm of deep sleep. The sight fills Minho with an overwhelming sense of gratitude and love.

Carefully so as not to wake him, Minho wraps his arms around Minjun, pulling him close. The boy, still deep in his dreams, instinctively snuggles closer into his father's embrace. Even in sleep, Minjun seems to sense his father's need for closeness and comforts him with his mere presence.

Minho’s eyes trace the soft, youthful features of his son's face, noting the faint freckles that dust his nose and the gentle curl of his lips. Memories flood through Minho’s mind—the first time he held Minjun, the first steps he took, the first words he spoke.

Recovering from his incident, Minho was forced to confront his own vulnerabilities and the stark realization of how much he relied on the presence of his son. These mornings, waking up next to Minjun, were sacred. They were not just moments of physical rest but crucial for his emotional recovery as well.

Minjun shifts in his sleep, a small sigh escaping him. His small hand grips Minho's shirt tightly as if, even in his dreams, he is determined to hold on. Minho’s heart aches with an overwhelming mix of joy and sorrow—joy for his son's presence and health and sorrow for the times he hadn’t been there as fully as he wanted.

“Daddy loves you, Minjun,” Minho whispers into his son's dark curls, his voice barely audible. A tear escapes the corner of his eye as he tightens his embrace, grateful beyond words for his return to health and the second chance it represented.

The sun begins to cast its first rays into the room, streaks of light that paint the walls with the colors of dawn. The light seems to coax the city to life gently, and as it does, it also seems to awaken Minjun. The little boy yawns and blinks open his eyes, surprised for a moment to find himself so close to his father.

“Daddy?” Minjun’s voice is sleepy and confused but also filled with an affection that comes from deep within.

“Good morning, buddy,” Minho says, his voice still thick with emotion. “Did you sleep well?”

Minjun nods, rubbing his eyes with the backs of his hands. “Yes.”

Minho smiles. “That sounds good. Maybe we can go to the park later?”

“Yeah!” Minjun’s face lights up with excitement. “And I can be a hero!”

Minho laughs, the sound rich and full of genuine happiness. “Of course, my little superhero. But first, how about we make some pancakes for breakfast?”

Minjun’s agreement is instantaneous and enthusiastic. As they get up and make their way to the kitchen, Minho keeps his son close, his hand resting lightly on Minjun’s shoulder. Making breakfast together was a simple activity, yet it held so much meaning for Minho, just being home again.

As Minho watches Minjun clumsily crack eggs and stir batter, he is filled with gratitude for his young son's resilience. He had managed to stay strong and loving throughout the difficulties they had faced.

“Daddy?” Minjun looks up at him, a slight frown on his face. “Are you okay? You look sad.”

Minho is taken aback, realizing that his emotional reflections must have shown on his face. He kneels down, bringing himself to eye level with Minjun, and smiles.

“I’m more than okay; I’m happy,” he assures his son, his hand gently cupping the boy’s cheek. “I’m just very thankful for you, Minjun. You’re my little hero, did you know that?”

Minjun giggles, the sound like music to Minho’s ears. “I’m your hero?”

“Yes, you are,” Minho assures him, hugging him tightly. “My biggest hero.”

Minjun hugs him back, his small arms strong and sure. “It’s okay, Daddy. I take care of you.”

The words, so earnest and sincere from such a young soul, fill Minho with an even deeper appreciation for his son and his eyes with tears. He realizes that while he was often the one taking care of Minjun, his son was also taking care of him in many ways, providing love, motivation, and a reason to recover fully and well.

One week later

For Minjun's birthday, Minho decided on a cozy movie night—a welcome change from the usual buzz of birthday parties and perfectly suited for their small circle. The boys all love a good movie night, find children's movies hilarious, and, most importantly, they all love Minjun like their own.

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting a soft glow through the windows, they arrive one by one.

Chan and Felix arrive last with a special surprise for the birthday boy. “Jiho, mate, we brought someone with us,” Felix leans down to him conspiratorially.

“Who?” he asks curiously, eyes growing wide. Chan steps aside and gently pulls you out of hiding. Minjun squeaks in delight, looking up at Minho excitedly. “Daddy, it's Y/nnie!” he says, jumping in place impatiently.

Minho giggles and gently brushes back his curls. “Well, go say hi, dumpling.”

Minjun doesn't need a second invitation to fall into your arms. “Hey, little bug,” you say quietly. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you,” he beams happily before moving on to greet the next guest. “Uncle Channie, up!” he says, reaching out for him.

Chan smirks, lifts him up and throws him into the air above his head a little, catching him safely again. Minho flinches heavily, reaching for Minjun in shock. Felix laughs at him, gently patting his back. “Channie, babe, don't give him a heart attack.”

Chan laughs, putting a giggling Minjun back on his feet. “Sorry, Min,” he chuckles, and Minho snorts.

“Alright, come on in, you know the way,” Minho laughs.

The living room was transformed into a fortress of comfort. Pillows and blankets were strewn across the floor, creating a plush sea of soft fabrics that invited everyone to kick off their shoes and sink in. The air was rich with the aroma of popcorn and sweet treats that lined the table alongside a stack of Minjun’s favorite animated movies.

Minho watches as Felix and Jeongin set up the projector, their antics punctuated by light-hearted banter that fills the room with laughter. Hyunjin and Seungmin are tasked with stringing fairy lights around the room, adding a magical ambiance that makes the space feel like a small cinema hall. Jisung and Changbin, meanwhile, busy themselves in the kitchen, popping more popcorn and arranging a variety of snacks on platters. Minho watches his family with a smile, each member contributing to the evening’s success, weaving their love for Minjun into every detail.

The movie starts, the lights dimmed to mimic a theater, and the first frames flicker across the makeshift screen. Minjun sits between Minho and you, a perfect sandwich of his favorite people, his face lit by the soft glow of the projector as he watches with wide-eyed wonder.

Throughout the evening, the adults' eyes often meet over Minjun's head, shared smiles of affection and slight amusement at his captivated reactions to the on-screen adventures. During a particularly exciting scene, Minjun would sometimes stand, pointing at the screen and explaining to you loudly the many details of the plot as he understood them.

"The hero's gonna save everyone. He's strong like daddy!" Minjun's voice is full of pride and excitement, making everyone chuckle, especially Minho, whose heart swells with love and a bit of awe at his son's interpretation.

The room is filled with the sounds of the movie, mixed with Minjun's occasional commentary and the boys' gentle laughs.

Halfway through the second movie, Minjun’s eyelids begin to droop, and he leans more heavily against you, his small hand gripping yours as he fights the pull of sleep. You look down at him, a soft smile playing on your lips, touched by the trust and affection Minjun shows you.

Minho notices this gentle exchange, and his heart is filled with gratitude for your presence in Minjun’s life, especially during the times when he couldn’t be there himself. He makes a mental note to himself to ensure you know how much your support meant to him, perhaps later when the movies are done and the excitement of the day has settled into the quiet of the night.

As the evening winds down and the credits roll on the last movie, Minho gently nudges Minjun awake to blow out the candles on his small birthday cake. With a sleepy grin, Minjun makes a wish and blows with all his might, the room erupting into applause.

"Happy birthday, Minjun!" everyone cheers, making him giggle happily and hide in Minho’s arms shyly.

Minho soothingly kisses his hair and cuddles him close. Your heart warms seeing them, and glancing around the room, you can tell how much Minho and his little boy mean to everyone. Minho looks almost as tired as Minjun, but both are beaming with happiness. The boys fall back into their usual chatter, and you more or less subtly watch Minho next to you with Minjun still in his arms. They're having a quiet conversation, Minjun resting his head against Minho's and holding onto his hands. You feel the old, familiar warmth spreading through you as you watch them. Getting into that fight with Minho had made you feel awful. You missed your time with Minjun and you realized how used you've grown to Minho's presence in your life.

Minho's eyes find yours, and your breath hitches at the softness of his orbs. “Minjun's asking if you could read him a bedtime story?”

“Oh, of course,” you nod.

“The bedroom’s upstairs, second door on the left. You can get comfortable there; he loves cuddling in bed before,” he assures you kindly and watches you leave with Minjun.

Chan nudges him gently. “You two are alright again?”

“We're working on it,” he tells him, and Chan hums agreeingly.

“We should wrap it up,” Chan chuckles, and Minho hums agreeingly.

“Yongbokie and you can have the guestroom upstairs. You'd get home way too late,” he tells him. Chan and Felix live the furthest away, after all. “Jisung and Hyunjin can have the sofa,” he laughs, seeing them already deep asleep there.

Seungmin, listening in, pouts softly. “I'm tired, I don't want to leave.”

Minho glances at him and Innie, resting their heads on Changbin’s shoulders. “I can only offer you to sleep here with all the pillows and stuff.”

“Sounds great,” Jeongin mumbles drowsily.

“Mhm, then that's settled,” Chan chuckles, soothingly rubbing Felix's shoulder as the younger one slowly grows heavy against him. “Should we clean up tomorrow then?”

“Yeah, I'll do it once everyone's gone,” Minho laughs.

“Lix and I can help,” he assures him, earning a thankful smile.

About ten minutes later, once Minho made sure everyone had what they needed he made his way to his own bedroom, Chan next to him. “I forgot Lix gets cold easily,” he chuckles and carefully pushes the door open. He stops in his tracks, seeing you comfortably sprawled out on his bed, Minjun on your chest, and a book loosely in your hand. You're both asleep, looking peaceful and content. “Shit, I forgot about Y/nnie,” he curses quietly.

“You can't really move him anywhere else, look at Minjun,” Chan giggles.

“And where am I supposed to sleep?” he asks quietly, grabbing a fluffy blanket for Chan and Felix.

“There's plenty of room next to them,” he says.

“Chan. I can't just get into bed with my assistant,” he argues.

“Your so-called assistant is hugging your son and asleep in your bed. I think you're way past that, mate,” he laughs. “It's your bed; just keep your distance or whatever.” Minho anxiously chews on his lower lip, debating a hundred different possibilities in his head. “Or you join me and Lix?”

“No, you two touchy fuckers can have that bed for your own,” he giggles, shoving his chest. “Not interested in a threesome right now.”

“Right now?” Chan teases, and Minho playfully raises his fist at him. “What about-”

“Go sleep, you're talking nonsense,” he laughs and gently shoves him outside. “Idiot.”

Chan giggles and gently shoves him back inside. “I'll hit you if you don't sleep in your own bed tonight. You still need rest, idiot.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he groans.

Minho stares down at the scene before him, the weight of Chan's words sinking in. He watches you and Minjun, both deep in the tranquil sleep of the innocent and the cared-for, their faces peaceful and free from the burdens that Minho carried on his shoulders.

Gathering all his bravery, Minho slowly approaches the bed, his movements hesitant but deliberate. As he reaches the edge, he pauses, taking a moment to truly look at you—someone who has become so much more than just an assistant. You have been his support system, his son's caregiver, and his unintentional savior in times of unspoken despair. How could he continue to maintain a mere professional boundary when everything about your relationship had transcended those limits?

Minho carefully settles on the far edge of the bed, maintaining a respectful distance. He lies on his back, staring up at the ceiling, his mind racing with thoughts and emotions. The soft sounds of Minjun's and your breathing soothe his nerves.

The room is silent, save for the soft ticking of the clock and the distant sounds of the city. Minho turns his head slightly, watching Minjun snuggle closer to you in his sleep. The sight is both beautiful and a stark reminder of the intimate moments he had missed during his recovery.

After a few moments, you shift in your sleep, perhaps sensing the added presence or the slight dip in the mattress as Minho lay down. Your eyes flutter open, and in the dim light, your gaze meets Minho’s.

“Sorry,” you murmur, your voice sleepy yet filled with warmth. “I can leave.”

“Don't,” Minho says quickly and swallows hard. “He's comfortable here with you; there's no need to leave.”

“You're sure?” you ask, and he hums in response. “Well, you should get comfortable as well. There's no need to hover over the edge of the bed.”

Those words, softly spoken, are like a key turning in a lock for Minho. They break through his last hesitations, sweeping away the remnants of his doubts. He shifts closer, reducing the distance between him and you, and allows himself to relax fully. You turn on your side to face him, your eyes locking with his in the dim light.

“I’m sorry,” Minho whispers, the words thick with emotions. “For everything.”

Your hand finds his under the blankets, giving it a gentle squeeze. “We’re past apologies, Minho. I fucked up because I took him without telling you. I didn't think and expected you to trust me; that wasn't fair. You overreacted…which is kind of understandable. I'm sorry for my part in this, and you're sorry for yours. We're okay.”

Minho feels a warmth spread through his chest. He nods, accepting your forgiveness, and turns his attention to Minjun, who murmurs something inaudible in his sleep and snuggles closer to both of you.

The early morning rays begin to seep through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. Your eyes slowly flutter open as they meet your face. Stretching your tired body, you slowly realize that Minjun is gone already…and that Minho has gotten a lot closer overnight. You glance down and see his arm wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to himself. His head is buried in your neck; you can feel his breath dancing across your skin. His hair feels soft against your skin and you wonder how it'd feel if you sank your hand into it.

You freeze, unsure of what to do next. The warmth of his breath against your skin sends a mix of comfort and alarm coursing through you. This is Minho, you remind yourself, technically, he's still my boss. Yet, the intimacy of this accidental cuddling was something entirely new, a boundary neither of you had crossed before.

Minho stirs, his movements slow and sluggish as he approaches the edge of consciousness. You hold your breath, waiting for his reaction when he realizes the closeness you both shared through the night. His eyes open gently, adjusting to the soft morning light, and then widen slightly as he takes in the position you both are in.

There's a moment of silent understanding, a mutual acknowledgment of the unintentional closeness. Minho’s eyes flicker with a mix of surprise and something softer, a vulnerability you've seen only in fleeting moments. He pulls back slightly, his hand retreating from where it had found a place around your waist.

“I-I’m sorry,” Minho mutters, his voice a low rasp tinged with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to-.”

“It’s okay,” you interject quickly, your voice soft, attempting to brush off the awkwardness. “We were both asleep. Things happen.”

Minho nods, his cheeks tinged with a blush that he can't hide. He sits up, rubbing the back of his neck—anxious gestures that you’ve come to recognize as his way of coping with discomfort.

Silence fills the room for a few heartbeats. Both of you glance away, then back at each other, unsure of how to navigate this new, uncharted territory in your relationship. Finally, Minho clears his throat, his eyes meeting yours with an earnestness that makes your heart skip a beat.

“I didn’t intend for that to happen,” he says, his voice steady but soft. “But I can’t say I regret waking up next to someone who means so much to Minjun… and to me.”

Your breath hitches slightly at his words, a warm flush spreading across your cheeks. “Minho, I-”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Minho interrupts gently. “I just want you to know that I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for us. For being here, for taking care of Minjun when I couldn’t, for being more than just an assistant, more than just a friend.”

The weight of his gratitude sits between you, heavy and warm. You nod, unsure of how to articulate the jumble of feelings his proximity and his words have stirred in you.

“Thank you for trusting me, Minho,” you manage to say.

Minho smiles a genuine smile that reaches his eyes, easing some of the tension. He glances at the clock, then back at you. “I guess we should get up. I promised Minjun pancakes, and I suspect he’ll be storming in soon if we don’t start cooking.”

You laugh, the sound light and freeing, breaking the last remnants of awkwardness. “Pancakes it is,” you agree, getting out of bed. You adjust your clothes, still feeling the warmth of where Minho’s arm was wrapped around you.

As you both head to the kitchen, the normalcy of the routine helps mend the morning’s awkward start. Minjun greets you both with a bright smile, oblivious to the tension from earlier, comfortably on Changbin’s lap. “Uncle Changnin is fun,” he announces, making everyone giggle at his slight mispronunciation.

“Mhm, of course, I am,” Changbin smirks, shooting the others a glare. “Uncle Changnin is fun..unlike some others here.”

Minho laughs, rolling his eyes at him. “Who wants breakfast?”

Throughout the morning, there are shared glances and shy smiles between you and Minho, a silent acknowledgment of a bond that had deepened in the most unexpected way. As you watch Minho flip pancakes, his laughter mingling with Minjun’s excited chatter, you feel a contentment settle over you. This, you realize, is more than just a job; more than just a responsibility-it’s a part of your life that you cherish deeply.

Later, as you sit together eating the slightly deformed pancakes that Minjun insists are perfect, you catch Minho’s eye, and he gives you a small, grateful smile. You'd be okay.

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

PART TWO | PART FOUR (coming soon)

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runnning-outof-time · 5 months

Text

I’ll Be Home For Christmas | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: no - written for @pacifymebby ‘s 2k Follower/Christmas Celebration

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: Tommy promises (Y/N) that he’ll be home for his family’s first Christmas in Arrow House. (Y/N)’s hoping it won’t only happen in her dreams.

Warnings: none - just some Christmas fluff

Word Count: 2223

A/N: Congrats on 2K, Layla! I went with the song ‘I’ll Be Home For Christmas’ … I listened to Brett Eldredge’s version of it and came up with this idea. I hope you like it. And it’s fitting that this is being posted on Christmas Eve, right? Sorry for cutting it close. Happy Holidays to all! Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one

(Y/N) sat back on the chaise lounge with a sigh. She bit on her bottom lip as she held the reciever up to her ear.

“Are you still there?” came from the other line.

“I am,” was what she was able to get out before she choked on her words, fingertips pressed against her lips as she tried her damnedest to hold back tears.

“Tell me what’s wrong, love.” Even miles away and through a phone call, Tommy was still able to read his wife like an open book.

There was a moment of silence before she responded. In that time, (Y/N) was trying to decide whether she wanted to make her plights known or not. On one hand, he was her husband; the person who she was supposed to disclose these sorts of problems to. On the other, she didn’t want to add another problem onto his probably already full plate.

“(Y/N)?” Tommy’s voice cut through her internal debate, bringing her back to the conversation.

“When will you be home, Tommy?” she decided to come right out and ask.

“I’ll be home for Christmas,” he assured her within seconds of her making her worry known.

“But…but Christmas is tomorrow,” she stammered out, wracking her mind to try and figure out if his homecoming was even possible, “where even are you right now?”

“I’m in London, and I know it’s tomorrow. I’ll be home,” he assured her once more.

“It’s our first Christmas in this new house,” she said as she looked around the reading room that she’d decorated to her particular taste. The manor was beautiful, but it felt so empty when Tommy was away. “The kids had the best time decorating the tree,” she added, a smile gracing her face as she thought back to the time she spent with her three children earlier in the week. A time that Tommy had missed out on.

“That’s good to hear,” Tommy smiled as he closed his eyes and pictured his three young children gathered around the large tree in the living room. He never had a chance to make a memory like it when he was younger. The fact that he wasn’t present for his children at this time felt like a stab to the heart.

(Y/N)’s smile faltered as the thing that had been eating her alive from the moment her husband’s car pulled out of the driveway returned to the forefront of her mind. “I can’t have you gone much longer, Tommy,” she finally spoke, deciding to come out with her thoughts rather than keep them in.

“I won’t be, darling,” he assured her.

“When will these business trips end?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he sighed as he ran a hand over his face.

“Yes you do. You’re the head of the company,” she insisted, a tinge of desperation seeping into her words.

“They’re part of the job.”

“They’re taking away time from our family.”

Silence rang on the line after (Y/N)’s declaration. She was no longer able to hold back the tears, letting them silently slip down her cheeks as she tried to keep the front that everything was fine on her end of the conversation.

“I’ll be home for Christmas, (Y/N),” Tommy was the one to break the silence after a few moments had passed.

(Y/N) swiped away her tears and nodded even though he wasn’t able to see her. “Ok, Tommy,” she agreed, even though she knew that it would most likely be a moot promise.

“I have to go,” he told her then.

“Ok,” she nodded once more, “I love you.”

“I love you. Give the kids a kiss for me.”

“I will.”

The line went dead after she told him she would. (Y/N) hung the phone up and let out a shuddered sigh. She looked at the garland lined mantle for a minute before closing her eyes and silently hoping that Tommy’s promise would come true this time around.

The sentence “mumma, wake up!” graced (Y/N)’s ears at the beautiful hour of seven o’clock the next morning. The feeling of three, small bodies bouncing on the bed soon accompanied it, making the woman finally open her eyes.

She was reluctant to at first because she knew that doing so would bring her beautiful dream of sitting by Tommy while watching the kids play with their presents to an end. The sight of the empty spot next to her in bed still hit her like a ton of bricks even though she was prepared for it. She couldn’t dwell on it though, because the kids’ excitement increased tenfold the second they saw her eyes open.

“Let’s go downstairs!” Charlotte, the oldest of the three, declared as she hurried to get off of the bed and make her way to the door. Max and Henry - twins who were two years younger than Charlotte, quickly followed their sister, their excitement practically palpable.

(Y/N) couldn’t help but smile as she tossed the covers to the side and moved over to where her robe was hung on the dressing screen. She took the same path as her children once the cozy garment was tied tightly against her frame.

The children were already rooting around the gifts that were placed under the tree, trying to find the ones that had their names on it. (Y/N) smiled as she made her way over to the couch and sat down on it. A tinge of sadness crept up on her before she could stop it. Tommy should be here, she thought to herself as the children went about unwrapping their presents.

Tommy’s words from the previous evening then echoed in her mind: “I’ll be home for Christmas”. She wanted to badly to believe that and think nothing else. But that sadness still loomed.

The children were excited to have their mum unwrap the presents that they made for her once they were finished opening theirs, and (Y/N) was able to push the sadness away as she beamed at the thoughtful, homemade gifts they’d given her.

The gloomy feelings came back when the kids went back to playing with their toys and she was left alone on the couch once more. An even larger wave washed over her when she noticed the unopened presents that still sat under the tree. One of the tags was facing upwards, and the name ‘DAD’ was written on it in Charlotte’s unmistakeable hand.

“I’ll be home for Christmas,” Tommy’s words rang in her mind again. She sighed and hugged her robe tighter to her body before looking over to the clock. Only in my dreams, she thought as she tried to focus back on the kids.

(Y/N) and the children ate a wonderful breakfast before the three young ones quickly dragged her back into the front room so that they could continue playing. She’d just gotten comfortable under the blanket when the sound of tires on gravel was heard outside. It made her eyebrows furrow. The family wasn’t supposed to come over until later, she thought to herself as she glanced over at the clock sitting on the mantle. It was still early in the morning.

Then the worry started to set in. (Y/N) was no stranger to the type of business that Tommy was involved in. She was by his side while he created a name for himself, and she stayed with him every step of the way. He continuously assured her that no one would ever come to their home and attack their family, but (Y/N) still couldn’t get the possibility of it to leave her mind.

She was so engulfed in her thoughts that she didn’t hear Frances say “welcome home, Mr. Shelby. They’re in the front room,” as her husband entered the foyer. It didn’t even set in as Tommy appeared in the archway, and the three children went running over to greet their father.

Things didn’t become clear until Charlotte turned to face her and exclaimed: “mumma! Dad’s home!”

Then everything came into view. Charlotte with a wide smile on her face. Max and Henry in their father’s arms. And Tommy. Tommy was looking right at her with one of the widest smiles she’s seen from him in a long time.

“Let’s go over and see your mum, eh?” Tommy said to his sons before he made his way over to the couch. Max and Henry wriggled out of his arms once he stopped in front of (Y/N), clambering up into her lap to give her a hug and a kiss before they went back to their new toys.

Tommy’s eyes quickly found (Y/N)’s once it was just the two of them. “You made it home,” she said, her smile practically stretching from ear to ear.

“I told you I’d be home from Christmas, love,” he answered, winking as he sent her a grin.

“C’mere, Tommy,” she held her hands out to him, and he got the idea, sitting down next to her on the couch. (Y/N) didn’t waste a second, throwing her arms around his frame and practically climbing into his lap as she hugged him tightly. “I’m so happy you’re home,” she whispered into his neck as she nestled her face deeper into it.

“Wouldn’t miss Christmas with you for the world,” he told her, his hands finding her shoulders then. She took it as a hint and lifted her head to look at him. “I love you,” (Y/N),” he said as he reached up and ran his hand down her cheek. She leaned into his touch, her smile widening before she closed the gap between them to press her lips to his.

The kiss was filled with so much love, and (Y/N) would have happily held it longer if her lungs weren’t screaming for air. She was the one to pull away, but she didn’t move far, opting to rest her forehead against his. “I love you, Tommy. Merry Christmas,” she breathed, her eyes still closed as she reveled in his presence.

“Merry Christmas,” he responded in a similar tone, his arms moving to wrap around her frame.

“Dad! We have presents for you!” Charlotte’s excited voice broke into their reverie moments later.

(Y/N) moved slightly so that she was now sitting next to him, and Tommy managed to tuck one of his arms behind her back - in efforts to keep her as close as possible - before their children came over to him with presents in hand.

“Open mine first!” Max exclaimed, thrusting the small box into his father’s lap.

Tommy smiled at the boy before he went about opening the present. (Y/N) watched on with a smile, knowing exactly what her husband was getting and how excited their son was to give it to him. Max let out like giggles of excitement as Tommy took the silver tie clasp that had a horse’s head on it out of its holder.

“Do you like it?” the boy asked with anticipation.

“I love it,” Tommy smiled before adding, “I’ll wear it the first chance I get.”

Henry gave him the next gift, which was a fancy pen that the boy had picked out himself. He said that Tommy could use it to write all of ‘his important letters’. Tommy made a promise to use it as his only pen from then on.

Then it was Charlotte’s turn. “Be careful when unwrapping it, dad. It’s fragile,” she gave a warning, one which Tommy chuckled at but also heeded to. “Do you like it?” she asked, like her younger brother had, when it was completely unwrapped.

Tommy didn’t say anything at first. Instead he stared at the present. (Y/N) peered over his shoulder to see what it was. Charlotte had been keeping it a secret from everybody. What Tommy was holding made (Y/N)’s heart swell. It was a hand drawn picture of her family - Tommy and (Y/N) stood on either side, then Max and Henry were standing next to them. In the middle was Charlotte, holding both of her brothers’ hands while she was wearing her favorite, purple colored dress. (Y/N) also didn’t miss the fact that Tommy, Max and Henry were all wearing a peaked cap.

“Do you like it?” Charlotte asked again, getting slightly impatient as her father was taking too long.

“I love it, sweetheart,” Tommy answered, finally looking up to smile at his daughter, “it’s perfect, Charlie,” he added, sounding choked up.

“It’s our family!” Charlotte exclaimed, a beaming smile now present on her face.

“It is,” Tommy nodded, “and it’s going in a frame so that it can sit on me desk.”

“So you can look at it always?” she asked.

“So I can look at it always,” he answered with a nod. Charlotte then rushed to get onto the couch so that she could hug her father.

(Y/N) quickly took the picture out of Tommy’s hands before it would get crumbled. She couldn’t help but smile as she looked down at it. Everything she needed in life was present in that picture…and was sitting beside her on the couch.

She was thankful that Tommy was able to make it home for Christmas.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @areyenotfondofmelobster @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

Listen to Brett Eldredge’s version of I’ll Be Home For Christmas:

HERE.

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby oneshot #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders oneshot #fanfiction #fanfic

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ventismacchiato · 1 year

Text

23 behind the lens — and there’s only one bed !

scaramouche x g!n reader

notes; translations for the japanese will be at the bottom of this chapter!

Since Kuni insisted he carried your bags you took the key card from him and attempted to unlock the door to your hotel room. Instead you were met with the dreaded red light on the scanner.

“Did Jean give us the wrong one?” Kuni asks as you try swiping it again.

“No, the number matches the door. I think I’m just doing it wrong,” you frown.

He sets your bags down and comes up behind you, one hand on your waist and the other on your hand holding the key card. His palm felt cold on yours.

“Let me try,” he murmurs into your ear as he glides the card through the scanner. It turns green.

“Oh,” you lamely let out as he gently pushes you into the room.

You take in your surroundings, slightly surprised at how nicely Jean had set you up. The stream of light sneaking through the curtains with the candle lit in the corner made for a romantic atmosphere. And the sight of the bed looking so inviting made your eyelids feel heavy.

“Are you tired?” Kuni asks, locking the door behind you both.

“A little,” you hum. But you had just landed in Paris, you’d feel bad if you didn’t go out to explore.

“Rest then, we can go out tomorrow,” Kuni says, as if he’s read your mind, “I have to go check in with my manager, will you be okay alone for a while?”

“Yeah,” you nod, watching as he gave your shoulder a soft pat and left the room.

Once he was gone you flipped open your suitcase for something more comfortable and less sweat-drenched from the flight to change into. It was an odd feeling, sharing a room with someone you liked. It made your stomach feel all tingly for the upcoming nights.

You climbed atop the bed, taking a quick picture to send to the Celestia group chat to let them know you’re alive, before sliding underneath the sheets. You didn’t want to fall asleep but with the way the sun was setting on your face and how the mattress sunk beneath you, drifting off was inevitable.

An hour or two later you were in a haze as you heard distant footsteps in your room and a cold hand touched your forehead. The comforter shifted and the mattress beside you sunk as you instinctively turned to face the cause of the weight.

「 kuni’s pov 」

“Hey,” Kuni greeted, his voice low as he gently tapped your cheek. There was no reply as you had passed out from exhaustion.

He peeled back the comforter to join you in bed, trying his best to not cause too much commotion. He settled beside you, turning on his side to face you.

“あなたは私の隣のベッドでとてもきれいに見えます,” Kuni whispers, watching the rise and fall of your chest.

He’s never been able to look directly at you on dates, either due to his nerves or from yours. He never was great at eye contact. But with your defenses down and you being in a weak state, he could finally look at you and take you in. Memorizing every detail you tried to cover up.

“私は嬉しい私はあなたに会った,” he hums, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. You groggily open your eyes for a second, slowly blinking before falling back asleep. You unconsciously shuffle closer and throw an arm around his waist. His heart skips a beat.

“私は嬉しいあなたはこれを読むことができません,” he adds, feeling embarrassed for his words, “おやすみ.”

behind the lens !

masterlist — prev | next

scara is trilingual in this 😴 english, japanese, and french! bro can seduce you in all three

satanic__000 on tiktok as scara

just realized i used the wrong kazuha and venti account in the parent trap gc pleek ignore that!

translations:

(1) あなたは私の隣のベッドでとてもきれいに見えます = you look very pretty in bed beside me

(2) 私は嬉しい私はあなたに会った = i’m glad i met you

(3) 私は嬉しいあなたはこれを読むことができません = i’m glad you don’t know what i am saying

(4) おやすみ = good night

author’s notes — shoutout to my pookie bear amy for helping me translate the japanese for me 🥺 ty!!

synopsis — you, better known as STARDUST, and BALLADEER have always been in competition for the top streamer spot on twitch, which is especially impressive since the two of you have never shown your faces. you’ve never been on good terms, constantly one-upping each other in matches and getting into petty arguments on twitter, causing your fans to also dislike each other. that’s until BALLADEER does a face reveal that breaks the internet with his good looks…which makes you realize it’s the same guy you went on a date with last night. the type of date that made you crave to see him again. the only problem was he didn’t know you were STARDUST and he was way different behind the lens than he portrayed himself online to you. should you keep your identity a secret to salvage the relationship or just let him go?

taglist is closed — @captainzep @elysiumarchieve @plinkuro @sakkakuu-squared @eliqusgenma @vuvulia @kunikuzushiit @heehooyeslol @stxrgxzxr @lilneps @uma-umie @goubaia @mitsukifilms @caesars-bubbles @wheneverthesunrise @its-like-twilight @kazuhalvrr @erosdevil @thenightsflower @p1utto @noodleshark420 @lxry-chxn @orbitscara @court-jester-stuff @lauragalliart @veyu002 @kaeyas-eyepatch-69 @leathernourishingshoepolish @satowaluverr @lexlapis @drunkwithfever @exhaustedcommunist @vincanzu @ainlaw @ovaliz @kitsuvil @whatamidoing89 @celestair @kunihaver @kazioli @xiaosoneandonly @cridtiins @cherrybeomgyu @asukahiriko @moon-320 @orionicchaos [1/3]

#genshin fics #genshin x reader #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche smau #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x gender neutral reader #behind the lens smau

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fluentmoviequoter · 3 months

Text

Hold My Hand

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: When you receive unwanted attention on a weekend staycation with your friends, a knight in a shining navy suit saves you by offering his hand.

Warnings: creepy guy doesn't understand 'no' and continues making unwanted advances, but Tim saves the day. angst to fluff (I guess?)

Word Count: 1.4k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

When your friends invited you out for a girls’ weekend, you were expecting a spa retreat or a cottage at the beach, not a penthouse in Los Angeles. More than that, you didn’t expect them to pick one of the sleaziest restaurants you’ve ever seen to spend their Friday night. Luckily – if there is a ‘luckily’ in this situation – you found a quiet corner on the rooftop. Your friends are downstairs, huddled around the bar as they look for rich, single men. It doesn’t exactly seem like the breeding ground for that type of man, though.

“Good evening, gorgeous,” a deep voice says behind you.

Assuming they’re talking to someone else, you ignore them, keeping your attention on the railing around the roof’s edge.

“Hey, ‘m talking to you,” he adds.

When his hand lands on your upper arm, forcefully turning you toward him, you truly begin regretting coming on this trip.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim feels like an animal in a zoo enclosure. Wearing a suit that isn’t his, in a place he’d rather never see again, with a few too many pairs of eyes blatantly watching him.

Two hours ago, he was sitting in the station, minutes away from getting to go home. Now he, Lucy, and Angela are undercover in a known mafia club. While the women in the restaurant stare at Tim, the men try to catch Lucy and Angela’s attention.

Sighing, Tim checks his watch. He’s been in one place too long with no sign of their target.

“I’m gonna go check the roof, see if our target’s up there,” Tim tells Lucy.

“The roof?” she asks.

“Yeah, the bar.”

“There’s a bar on the roof?!”

“We’re in Los Angeles, boot, of course there’s a bar on the roof. Angela, keep her close.”

Angela nods, and if Lucy wasn’t already a little creeped out by the men standing across the room, she would be offended.

Tim gets in the elevator, leaning against the wall once the doors are closed. The rooftop bar, however, is full of people who are somehow more intimidating than the ones inside. Looking around, Tim doesn’t see the target or any of his known associates. What he does see, though, is a situation that he shouldn’t get involved in, yet he can’t look away.

✯✯✯✯✯

The man beside you cannot take a hint. You slowly back away until his hand falls from your arm, and one of your legs slides off the barstool. When your foot hits the floor, you stand and keep the seat between you.

“C’mon, gorgeous, ‘s jus’ a question,” he slurs. “Yes or no?”

“I said no,” you repeat firmly.

He doesn’t like your answer, though, and you try to hide your flinch when he slams his glass down on the bar.

“You here alone?”

You glance around, hoping you see someone who looks trustworthy enough to hide with. But you don’t see anyone who fits the bill.

“No,” you answer. “My friends are downstairs.”

“Just friends?”

He leans closer, his arm moving to cage you on one side. Inhaling sharply, you try to think of a way to escape this situation without making it worse or drawing more unwanted attention.

✯✯✯✯✯

“We’ve got nothing,” Angela says in Tim’s earpiece. “Anything up there?”

“No,” Tim answers.

“We’re leaving then. Can’t do anything without him here.”

“I’ll, uh, I’ll catch up.”

“What?” Lucy asks.

“I’ve got to do something first. I’ll see you at the station tomorrow. Call if you need anything.”

Tim removes the earpiece, switching it off as he drops it into his blazer pocket. Moving quickly across the rooftop, he doesn’t realize that he doesn’t have a real plan.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey,” another voice says beside you. “I was wondering where you got off to. What’s going on here?”

You glance over, and your shoulders drop when you see how clean-cut and trustworthy he looks. Given your current situation, you’re glad to see a man who isn’t clearly a predator, but you try not to think about how low the bar is.

“Hi,” you reply. “I was trying to come back, but, uh, got caught up.”

Widening your eyes slightly, you try to communicate that you are not here by choice.

“Give her some room, man.”

The creep leans back enough that you can move, and you rush to your savior’s side.

“And next time a woman tells you ‘no,’ you’d do well to listen,” he adds darkly, letting you hide behind his shoulder.

“Whatever. She jus’ doesn’t know what she wants.”

A kind hand turns you around, and the man whispers, “I’m Tim.”

You tell him your name, flinching when glass shatters behind you.

“Hold my hand,” Tim says, spreading his fingers between you as he looks over his shoulder.

Without hesitation, you interlace your fingers with his. He pulls you close as the elevator opens. Once you’re alone, neither of you releases your grip on the other’s hand.

“Thank you,” you breathe out. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“I hate that I had to jump in, but you’re welcome. Are you okay? Did he touch you?”

You shake your head, looking down at your joined hands.

“Do you really have friends downstairs?”

“I have… acquaintances that I will never be going on vacation with again.”

“Vacation? You’re not from here?”

“That’s the funny part. We all live here, so imagine my surprise when the weekend getaway was twenty minutes from my house.”

“Sounds like you need new friends.”

You hum before asking, “Who are you here with?”

“For work.”

At your confused glance, Tim raises his blazer to reveal a badge.

That must be why he helped you.

The door opens, and you pull your hand from his.

“Thanks for helping me, officer. Have a great night.”

Tim watches as you disappear into the crowd, stepping out of the elevator confused and surprisingly upset. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he calls the only person he can think of.

“No questions, Angela. I helped a girl get away from a guy who didn’t understand ‘no.’ As soon as she saw the badge she disappeared. Something was happening before that-“

“Timothy,” Angela sighs. “She thinks you did it out of duty then let her flirt with you. Find her and ask her out, anything to show that you did it for her and not because of some twisted savior complex.”

“Thanks, Lopez.”

Ending the call, Tim heads toward the bar. He thinks that’s where groups of girls on vacation probably hang out. When the bar comes into view, he has no problem finding you, like the brightest light in a dark room.

“Nothing happened, I just went to the roof for a while,” you insist.

“No, you had that glow thing. You met a guy.”

“Maybe I did but he wasn’t interested.”

“Don’t drag me into this if you’re not going to tell the story right,” Tim says, approaching your side.

“Tim?” you ask, turning toward him.

Your body language with him compared to the man upstairs, even how you interact with the women you're here with, differs vastly. Squared to him and completely open, you’re practically inviting him to do something.

“I didn’t do it because I thought I had to. I was off the clock, not that it matters. My motivation may have been pure, just to help, at first, but then you held my hand and I never wanted to let go.”

“Can we…” you pause as you look around. “Can we please not do this here?”

“As long as we do it now.”

Tim offers his hand, and you nod as you take it. Leading you through the crowd, Tim keeps you close. Exiting onto the noisy Los Angeles street, Tim turns toward you.

“I could tell you needed help, or wanted it at least,” Tim explains. “But I don’t want this to end here. I- your hand fits in mine.”

“Please don’t tell me that means we’re soulmates or something.”

Tim smiles, and you forget why you were upset in the elevator.

“I’m Tim Bradford,” he introduces, shaking your already joined hands. “I am a cop, but not with you. With you, I think I could be the man I’d like to be.”

“Romantic,” you murmur.

“I know. It’s scaring me a little. You can’t tell my friends, okay?”

“As long as we don’t tell mine either.”

“So, you’re willing to try?”

“I mean, where else am I going to find a knight in a shining navy suit?” you ask, leaning closer. “As long as your hand stays in mine, I’m willing to try.”

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #the rookie #fem!reader #requests

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xmalereader · 1 year

Text

Joel Miller X Male Reader

|| Masterlist ||

Authors Note: I caved in….anyways, here is a Joel miller shot that takes place before the apocalypse, more of a Modern AU type and less of clickers and death. Prepare yourselves because this one is a sad one. Also, I officially have a schedule for shots every Monday and Friday so be prepared to have another shot tomorrow! You can find Joel miller Masterlist under the Javier Peña/agent whiskey tab.

Summary: Sarah takes notice of her dads changed behavior along with finding a strange picture at her neighbors house that’ll explain everything as to why her dads actions had changed.

Warnings: Angst, slight fluff, mentions of family, pre-apocalypse, break-ups, fear of rejection, slight mentions of homophobia, takes place in 2003, doubts, guilt, Joel is trying, acceptance.

Word count: 3.1k

—

Sarah knew that something was wrong when she arrived home after school. The first thing that she noticed was that the house was clean. She always did the cleaning after coming back home since her dad was rarely home and always working and used the extra time to organize the place. The next thing she noticed was the clean kitchen, not only was it clean but there was a meal ready too, showing that the meal had been eaten and some leftovers were left.

She can’t help but raise a brow in questioning, taking in everything before heading upstairs to her room and leaving her back pack by her desk and stepping back out into the hallway where she finds her dad exiting the bathroom. He was looks up startled at his daughters presence and softly sighs in relief. “Scared the hell out of me.” He huffs out before tussling her hair as he passed by her and asks. “How was school?”

Sarah follows him downstairs. “It was fine—boring like always.” She’s quick to add, jumping down the last step and giving the kitchen another glance. “You cooked and cleaned today.” She points out, getting her dads attention as his eyes roam around the room before clearing his throat. “Yeah, finished work early today and took the time to make some dinner.” His response is quick, walking over to the living room and looking out the window, giving him a nice view of the neighborhood.

His daughter stands behind him, still suspicious by his strange actions. She shakes it off and sighs to herself, ignoring the weird feeling she was getting and joining her dad on the couch as they search for a movie to watch and to keep themselves distracted. She told herself not to worry to much about the strange feeling only for it to return again after two days. Except it’s the weekend and she’s returning from her friends house, stepping inside her house only to see her dad wearing some decent clothes. He’s usually wearing plain shirts and his work pants throughout the day either too lazy to change or perhaps it was his style.

Seeing him dressed differently raised questions. “Going somewhere?” Sarah asks, getting her fathers attention who looks over his shoulder and gives her a soft smile. “Just gonna head out with some folks.”

“Dressed like that?”

Joel frowns, looking down at his own outfit and then back at his daughter. “What? Is it that bad?” He asks while she eyes him up and down, shaking her head. “No—just new…have fun though.” She encouraged with a smile on her face while Joel chuckled. “Your uncle Tommy is coming by to babysit you tonight, I’ll be back at nine.” He promises, kissing her on the forehead and rushing out the door with keys in hand. “Don’t open the door unless—“

“It’s uncle Tommy, I know.” Sarah finished and waved him off. “Go.” She added while Joel gives her another smile and leaves her alone until her uncle arrived. Sarah had spent the night in her room while her uncle lied in the living room couch watching Tv. She taps her fingers against her book and began to think about her fathers strange actions.

It wasn’t until the next day that Joel tells Sarah that he and Tommy would be working late and wouldn’t be home. He had advised her to stay at their neighbors house until he returned so that she wouldn’t be alone. The millers had grown to like their friendly neighbor. He was three years younger than Joel, living by himself and he worked in architect. Y/n always welcomed Sarah into his home on days that Joel would be working late, he’d make her some dinner and also bake her some cookies.

Sarah liked her neighbor and knew that he could probably help her with her situation. It wasn’t until after school that she’s inside Y/n’s house, sitting on dining table and finishing up her homework while Y/n sat across from her, his own work spread out on the table as he worked on the new blueprints for his project.

“Can I ask you something?” Sarah finally speaks up. Setting her pencil down and watched as Y/n hums in response, focused on his measurements and drawing out a few lines.

“I think my dads seeing someone.”

Y/n’s pencil snaps, startling the two as he chuckled nervously. “Oops, must’ve gone a little hard on that one.” He laughs softly and sets the pencil aside before clearing his throat. “What makes you think that?” He finally asks.

“I don’t know—he’s just…” Sarah groans. “He’s doing things that he normally doesn’t do and it’s freaking me out.” She whines out.

“Like…?” Y/n raises a brow, urging her to continue.

“He usually doesn’t clean the house, I do that whenever I can. He had a cooked meal ready and he’s going out with friends—which I know he doesn’t really like to socialize and he’s starting to come home early. He’s always late.” Sarah grumbled, crossing her arms on the table and placing her head on top.

Y/n watched the young child sulk as he sighs to himself, moving his work to the side as he sits up straight. “People react in strange ways when they start going out with someone new. These things that he’s doing are examples of change; perhaps this person is making him react differently. I mean, like you said, he’s cooking meals which is something he rarely does along with cleaning and socializing and coming home early. I mean—“ he chuckled. “What if he isn’t seeing someone and just wants to change the way he does thing? A clean home along with a nice meal for his daughter, trying to know new people and extend his friendships, wanting to come back home early to be with his family.” He points out.

Sarah listens to his words and gives a few nods. Understanding why her dad would make changes and perhaps did take notice of current things that needed to change in order to improve his life a little. She kept thinking about her dad that the silence between her and Y/n is cut when Y/n silently asks.

“How would you feel about your dad dating someone?” His eyes focus on his work again, taking his pencil and sharpening it while focusing on the lines. He waits for her response which takes a few seconds for her to speak up. “I don’t know…I’d want him to meet a nice girl who’d make him happy. Someone that I could also get along with too and maybe have a mom again.” She giggled a little at the idea of having a family again. She was focused on the idea of her dad being happy again that she doesn’t notice the sad smile on Y/n’s face.

“That’s—that would be nice for you and Joel.” He said.

The rest of the day is spent with the two finishing up their own work and baking some cookies that Sarah later packs up to take back home. Once the sunset and the neighborhood grew quiet was when Joel finally returned back home from work, knocking on his door to pick up Sarah.

Y/n unlocks his door and gives Joel a smile. “She’s getting her things.” He let’s Joel know and offers him to wait inside while Sarah shoved her things inside her backpack. “Hey dad!” She calls out, zipping up her bag and holding up a ziplock stuffed with cookies. “Y/n made chocolate chip cookies, saved you a few.”

Joel chuckles at Sarah, pulling her close into a hug and kissing her head. “They look delicious.” He snatched the bag from her hands, causing the twelve her old to pout. “Hey!” She tries to take them back from home but he holds the bag away from her reach as she groans, gripping his forearm and trying to pull him down but Joel didn’t pudge.

Y/n laughs at the sight and shakes his head. “Alright, that’s enough you two.” He easily takes the cookies from Joel’s hand and hands them back to Sarah, earning a glare from Joel which he ignores. “Here.” He hands her the ziplock bag and clears his throat. “Uh, Sarah why don’t you head back home? I need to speak to your dad real quick.”

Sarah gives her dad a glance who nods. “Go ahead, I’ll be there in a minute.” She gives him a nod and bids Y/n a goodnight before leaving the house. The two adults standing alone in the living room.

“I spoke to Sarah.”

Joel looks up. “About us?” He swallows nervously.

Y/n shakes his head. “No, not really.” He sighs out. “She was worried about you and thought that you’d been going out with someone. I asked her on what her opinion was on you dating.” His back is against the wall, leaning against it.

“What did she say?” Joel takes a small step forward.

“She said that she wanted you to find someone that made you happy along with starting a family again.”

Joel smiles. He didn’t know how Sarah would feel about him dating again after years of being on his own. His daughters happiness always came first and he didn’t want to mess things up. “That’s—“ He looks over at him only to see a hint of sadness in his eyes, causing his own smile to falter.

“Joel, she wants a Mother.”

Joel quickly understand what he was saying. The two had been dating for six months, keeping their relationship a low profile and not letting anyone know. Joel knew how people frowned upon couples who were the same sex, he wasn’t afraid of letting the public know but he was afraid of his own daughters thoughts and what she would say and think about him. He didn’t know if she’d accept the relationship or if she’ll feel comfortable around them. He didn’t know if their bond will be the same if someone else came into their life.

“Your daughter comes first and you know I can’t give her what she wants.” Y/n whispered, pushing himself off the wall and approaching Joel. He watched him carefully as the older man shakes his head, already knowing where this conversation was leading too. “We could tell her.” Joel blurts out.

“I don’t know, Joel.” Y/n sighs, looking down. “I don’t want to be the one who ruins a family. We both already knew how this would end if things didn’t go the way we wanted.” His tone is soft but full of pain. “Joel—“

“Please, don’t say it.” Joel is shaking his head, stepping forward and pulling him close. “We can’t end things like this not after I finally found someone to love again. I won’t just throw everything away and pretend like what we head meant nothing.”

Y/n didn’t want this either but had no choice. He blamed himself for falling in love with a man, less alone with a child he cared deeply about. He too cared for Sarah and sometimes saw her as his own daughter whenever they spent time together but after what she said he couldn’t bare to be the one to change her life. Joel’s daughter came first and knew that wouldn’t change.

He gentle nudged Joel, taking a step back and looking up to him. “We both know what happens after this.” He whispered, giving him a sad smile, holding back tears. “Goodbye, Joel.”

Joel stands frozen, looking into Y/n’s eyes as the other looks away, hiding the pain that lord behind his eyes. Joel wanted to reach out and hold him close in his arms and tell him that he loves him but knew that wouldn’t change things. Instead he gives him one last look and leaves the house, closing the door behind him quietly and making his way back to his own house where Sarah waits sitting in the living room, watching Tv and eating her cookies.

When Joel returned she looked over to him and frowns. “Dad, are you okay?” She stands from her spot and approached him.

“Yeah I’m alright, baby girl.” His response is faint.

“Then why are you crying?”

—

It’s been two weeks since their last conversation. Sarah still stayed at Y/n’s place after school and was picked up by Joel each time he came back home. The first few days of seeing each other again they fake their smiles and feelings from each other. Ignoring the headache that the two have and forcing themselves to continue on. Joel stopped picking up Sarah after the fourth day.

Every night, Y/n would hear the familiar truck engine arrive next door. Signaling Joel’s return from work and letting Y/n know that Sarah is to get back home. He’d help her pack up and would stand outside watching her leave his place and entering safely into her own house. There were only a few times that he caught glimpses of Joel leaving his house early in the morning, getting ready for work. He tried his best to avoid any interactions with Joel, rushing inside his own house whenever he saw the familiar truck approaching. As childish as it sounded he couldn’t face joel.

During the second week he was helping Sarah with a school project, making a board and helping her with gluing different printed out imagines while she did the writing. When Y/n hears the engine he glanced up at the clock, taking notice that Joel always came back home at eight thirty. He sighs to himself and sits up from his spot on the floor. “Alright, kiddo. Time to go home.”

“Awe, we were almost done.”

Y/n chuckled, gathering up her things and placing them inside her folder. “You can finish back at your place, you just have to glue these last few pictures and you’ll be done.” He hands her the folder which contained all of her homework. “Fine.” Sarah puts her things away and smiles widely. “Can I borrow your Walkman while I do homework?”

“You do know that no one uses those anymore?”

“I know but you have good music.”

Y/n rolls his eyes and nods. “Fine, why don’t you go get it in my room while I finish cleaning. It should be on the nightstand next to my bed or in the drawer.” He calls out to her as she rushed upstairs to his bedroom where he kept his Walkman.

Sarah stalks inside the room, still not used to entering places that didn’t belong to her. She approached the nightstand and pulls the drawer open to find the Walkman with no headset. She sets it on his bed and digs around his drawer until she finds the headphones, smiling in triumph as she held them in her hands. She goes back to close the drawer only to take notice of a picture of her dad sticking out from underneath a book.

Her curiosity gets the best of her and slides the photo out. Holding it between her fingers as she looks at the picture to see her dad giving the camera a smile while Y/n stared at her father, recognizing his expression. She quickly tucks the photo away and collects her things while rushing downstairs.

“Did you find it?” Y/n asks, startling Sarah a little while she nods. “Yeah, I found it.” She shows him the Walkman and gets her bag and poster. “Let me walk you out—“

“I’m fine! I gotta finish this quick, goodnight!” She rambled out while slamming the door behind her, leaving a stunned Y/n while she ran back home.

“You alright?” Joel suddenly asks upon seeing his daughter running inside the house frantically, rushing to her room and putting her things away while walking back downstairs to find her dad with raised brows. “You okay?” He asks again, worried about his own daughter.

“I think so.” She opens and closes her mouth. Hesitate to speak as she glanced at her dad who focused on making himself a sandwich. His old habits had come back after two weeks. He was back to his old self which didn’t surprise Sarah. “I asked Y/n if I could borrow his Walkman so, that I could listen to some music while finishing my homework.” She began to say. “I was in his room and found a picture…it was you and him together.”

Joel grows tense, his appetite gone as he pushed the finished sandwich to the side and cleared his throat. “Yeah?”

Sarah nervously approached her dad. “I didn’t think much about it until I saw Y/n’s expression and the way he looked at you. It’s the same look that you used to give mom whenever she smiled or when she’d do something that you liked.” She picked at her nails, looking at her dad every once an awhile. “Did something happen between you two?” Her voice is small.

Joel takes notice and leans against the counter. He didn’t think that she’d find out about them, instead he thought that he’d continue on with life and pretend like his relationship with Y/n meant nothing and that the two never did anything. Now, here he stood in front of his daughter who’s asking about their relationship. He felt guilty from hiding his relationship from his own daughter but had his reasons as to why he was hiding it, afraid of losing his own daughter and ruining the loving bond that he had with her.

“Dad.”

Joel is pulled out of his thoughts, putting his attention on his daughter. “No.”

Sarah frowns at her own dad.

“Then why are you crying?”

#Joel miller x male reader #Joel miller shot #Joel miller #the last of us x male reader #the last of us shot #the last of us hbo #Pedro pascal #pedro pascal x male reader #one shot #au

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whatdoeseverybodywant · 5 months

Text

All Falls Down - Chapter 2

Thank you to everyone who likes, commented and reblogged part 1. I'm happy you guys like it.

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

All OC Characters belong to me

Taglist: @christinabae @southerngirl41 @reci1996 @jeyusos-girl @jeyusosgirl @melaninsugababy @baconeggndcheez @bemybabiibish @purplehairgawdess @jstarr86 @nbanenefrmdao @arination99 @alyyaanna @m3llowww @gomussy @jeysbae @empressdede @harmshake @theninthwonder @badbitchcentralinc @romansnumberonegirl @kawaiisadoglu @bebesobrielo @venusesworld @babysyhsyh

Four months… four fucking months

That was the only thing going through Kiyana’s mind the next morning as she laid in bed. Four Months. He had thrown away 23 years for four months. Sighing, she sat up and grabbed her phone checking for messages, rolling her eyes at the 27 text messages from Josh. With each message she could tell that he was drunk.

Getting out of bed, she carefully cleaned up the glass from the broken picture framed, then groaned when she saw the hole in the wall from the alarm clock she threw. Add that to her list of things to do today.

After getting dressed in one of Josh’s shirts and some gray sweatpants, she walked downstairs and into the living room, rolling her eyes at Josh’s passed out body on the couch, a half drunk bottle of Hennessy on the floor by his side. “Pathetic” she muttered as she walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table, opening up her Macbook to search for a good divorce lawyer.

After searching and saving some numbers Josh shuffled into the kitchen and sat down in the chair next to her. She said nothing to him as he peered into her laptop.

“Divorce attorneys? Key, come on. You being serious right now?” Kiyana looked at him like he had three heads. This man really done lost his mind.

“What part of you cheated do you not understand? It’s not like before when you missed Kaiden’s second birthday or our wedding anniversary. You stepped out on our marriage during one of the most vulnerable times of my life. I do not want to talk to you. I do not want to even be in the same room as you, but you just don’t seem to get that.”

“Baby-”

“Just stop. Please.” She sighed, getting up from the table and trying to walk out of the kitchen but he stopped her by grabbing her arm and pulling her closer to him.

“I want to fix this Kiyana.” She shook her head,

“There’s no fixing this Josh.” She said softly, pulling her arm out of his grip and walking out of the kitchen

After getting her kids back from Talisua’s house, Kiyana tried to be cordial and tried to pretend like everything was normal for the sake of her kids but everytime Josh came near her she wanted to smack him in his face.

So for the rest of the day, she steered clear of him. Everytime he came into a room that she was in she immediately left it. She couldn’t escape him while making dinner though, and he knew that. She groaned quietly when he strolled into the kitchen and sat at the island counter with their oldest son Kamari who was six who was playing with his action figures.

Josh had tried to talk to Kiyana only stopping when she sent a deadly glare his way. When Kamari asked why she was ignoring his daddy she had come up with some lame excuse that she and Josh were playing the quiet game.

Later that night after putting Kamari and Kaiden to bed, Kiyana was sitting on her bed, rocking Kairo to sleep after giving him a bottle when Josh knocked softly on the bedroom door. “I have an early flight tomorrow, Key. I already said bye to Kamari and Kaiden.” He said, knocking softly again. “Please I just wanna see Kairo.. And you” She rolled her eyes and moved off the bed to open the door for him.

She said nothing as she stepped to the side to let him enter the room. She was tempted to knock him upside the head when he walked past her but she refrained herself.

“Thank you.” He whispered, taking Kairo out of her hands. “I’m only doin’ two house shows this weekend so i’ll be home after Raw on Monday.” He let out a frustrated sigh when she ignored him. “Is this how it’s gon’ be Key? You ignoring me?”

“Yes, until I can find a place of my own.” That stopped him in his tracks. He made sure Kairo was sleeping before he placed him down in his bassinet and walked over to Kiyana.

“Whatchu’ mean a place of your own? You movin’ out?” He gritted his teeth when she ignored him again. “So I make one mistake and you don’t even want to try to work things out?”

“One mistake that took you four months to confess. A mistake that if it was me, you wouldn’t of hesitated to file for a divorce, but since it’s you I’m suppose to just say fuck it and continue to be with you? No fuck that and fuck you!” She whispered/shouted. Mindful of Kairo.

“We don’t have to get a divorce Kiyana. We can go to therapy or counseling.” He tried to grab her hands but she pushed him away. “Key, we can talk it out like we always do.” She let out a sarcastic laugh.

“This doesn’t even compare to anything we’ve ever been through. For twenty-three years I stood by your side.” She seethed, pointing a finger at him. “When you quit your job and went to Houston with Eddie, I followed you so that you could train and we could still be together and when you hurt your knee before you got signed and needed surgery, I got a second job just so you could pay for the surgery. I had two jobs and was in the middle of nursing school but I did it for you.”

Josh could only stand there and stare at her. He knows he fucked up and he wishes he could go back in time to not fall into temptation.

“And the worse part.” She let out a watery laugh, wiped the tears from her face “The last four months of my pregnancy were horrible, you know what I was going through- from losing my father to being hospitalized two weeks before Kairo was born and you still went and had an affair.”

Josh could only stand there and stare at her. He knows he fucked up and he wishes he could go back in time to not fall into temptation.

Just hearing how much pain and heartbreak he caused he made him break down. He pulled her into his arms, and held on to her tightly. He just kept repeating how sorry he was. It was all he could say.

She pushed him away from her and walked over to the bed, getting in it, she turned the lamp on the side table off before laying down. “Shut the door behind you.”

He stood there for a while, before sighing “I love you Kiyana.” He said before walking out of the room.

whew, i'm breaking my own heart with this series. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

#wwe #jey uso #jey uso imagine #main event jey uso #jey uso x black reader #jey uso x reader #wwe x black reader #jey uso angst #jey uso x fem reader #jey uso x oc #jey uso x y/n #jey uso x you #wwe x fem reader #wwe x reader #wwe x oc #wwe x you #wwe x y/n #black reader #black writers

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marksbear · 11 months

Note

So how about power bottom Miguel who then bites reader with his fangs and leads to reader being not be able to move and Miguel takes the chance to ride his face but then stops himself and rides reader so he can have reader cum in him and help him and doesn't want to be the only one to not feel pleased that day.-50%🐻‍❄️

Kinda would not recommend to read because it’s halfway done and I posted it on accident. 😭

The plot is good and shit but I posted halfway to the foreplay

So let’s just act this is a teaser for the REALLLL thing.

DOM MIGUEL O’HARA X SUB TOP MALE READER

Y/n was at his desk finishing some work he brought home from the office.

Lots of papers was scattered around the desk and a picture frame of Y/n and his boyfriend Miguel. What Y/n doesn’t notice is the red glowing eyes reflecting on the glass frame.

Y/n puts down his pencil looking away from the paper he’s working on and to his computer.

Suddenly two strong arms wrap around Y/n’s chest pulling down into his chair. As Y/n let out a gasp two fangs bare themselves deep inside Y/n’s neck.

“Fu-fuck! Miguel.” Y/n says moving his hands too his boyfriends arms trying to pull them off.

“Let go of me! I’m still working.” Y/n adds with a few laughs escaping as he tries to escape Miguel’s tight grip. Miguel pulls away from Y/n’s neck looking at the deep bite mark.

Y/n’s let’s out a wince, but just gets ignored by his boyfriend.

“You should be more careful in your surroundings as you work. I’ve been standing behind you for a while.” Miguel says spinning his boyfriend chair around to face him.

“I know… Just had to finish some things up for tomorrow.” Y/n answers with Miguel responding with a hum. Miguel moves his hands towards Y/n’s button up shirt. Miguel tugs off the tie before unbuttoning Y/n’s shirt.

“Miguel~ Not right now I have to finish working.” Y/n says stopping Miguel’s hands with his own.

Miguel’s red eyes bore into Y/n’s eyes before ripping the hole shirt off.

“Fuck…” Y/n breathes out looking at his ripped shirt that was just thrown on the floor. Miguel crawled onto the chair straddling Y/n’s lap. Y/n looked up into Miguel’s bright red eyes that were filled with lust and hunger.

Miguel kissed Y/n passionately using his empty hands to hold the back of Y/n’s neck forcing him to kiss him. At first Y/n was tense, but quickly relaxes into the kiss letting Miguel take control. Miguel grinds down into Y/n’s lap moving his hips back and forth down on him.

MORE COMING SOON I PROMISE 😭

#miguel o'hara x m!reader #Miguel o’hara x male reader #miguel o’hara x reader #x male reader #male reader #marvel x male reader #the bear club

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semicolonsspace · 5 months

Text

Dark! Bodyguard! Mitch Rapp

Warnings: Bodyguard! Mitch, Bratty reader, Diagnosis(Autism, ADHD, anxiety, and depression) Talk of Spiders, Somoniphilia, bondage, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, nicknames(little one, darling, princess, Angel, dollface)

Disclaimer: I'm autistic and this character represents me :>

Yet again, Y/n was trying to escape. She was currently on her balcony trying to climb over her railing. Mitch heard the shuffling and ran into her room searching for her. It was past her assigned bedtime. Her parents repeatedly told him that she needed to stay in her room and NOT go outside and search for Spiders.

His hands find her hips lifting her effortlessly. He walks through the doors, shuts them, and throws her on her bed, reminding her of the numerous smut books she's read. She screams with a smile on her face. Mitch loved it when she smiled like that. She looked angelic. So happy, the girl made her.

He gave her a stern look before it broke into an amused one. "It's passed your bedtime, Little One." She wanted his voice to be innocent, but it didn't sound like it to her. Maybe to others but it was just them, so, was it really innocent?

"Your spiders are sleeping, you can search tomorrow," he scolds her, his hand on his hip. "During the day," Mitch adds.

Y/n pouts and crosses her arms. She moves and sits on her bottom, her knees bent, her legs resting by her sides. "I don't have a bedtime! And my spiders are Nocturnal! I want to see the night spiders! Not the Day spiders!"

Now she was just acting childish. Spoiled even. But she couldn't just get everything she wanted. Mitch should teach her that... Even if it was very tempting to do so. Even tempting to spank her bottom for being such a brat and escaping the previous night. He was infuriated when he heard her successfully escape through the hallway bathroom window. She used that one because the bathroom in her room had no windows.

Her parents, The Hales were smart for that one. He silently thanked them in his mind when he first had a tour of their house. He also thanked him mentally for receiving all her information in a file on a given work phone. He was surprised at her background, to say the least. She had extreme PTSD when it came to being alone, the last time being when her ex-family member broke in and used her as a punching bag because he resented her. Resent her and ruining the family picture with her diagnosis. But really he did that by doing that.

Aside from that, he didn't really wasn't bothered about the other diagnosis that she had. Autism- She would sometimes become upset with certain clothing and tear them off, so he made a mental note to ask if she was comfortable with the clothing before starting the day. Anxiety- he understood and would help if he saw anything that gave him signs of it. Depression- he would make sure she's happy. Lastly, Insomnia- She had a set schedule she liked to abide to- aside from her bedtime. She despised sleeping during the night because that was when she was most vulnerable. So, he reassured her that during the night he would be in her room to keep watch. So she can sleep.

Y/n stumbles to her walk-in closet. He gets the hint so he turns around to give her privacy. Once she saw it was safe she instantly grabbed a sleep shirt which was an oversized shirt that framed her curvy hips.

Y/n thought to him scolding her. She loved it. He looked so hot, the reason why she was so bratty at times... From the constant scolding of Mitch, she still didn't hate him. She knew he was just doing his job. She thought about it logically. She would do the same if she were him.

Pulling herself out of her thoughts she sat on her bed. She shoved her legs under her sheets and sighed with contentment. She spread her legs repeatedly under the covers to feel the nice satin on her skin. She loved her satin sheets. She grabbed her laptop, placed it in her lap, and began typing away on the book she had been working on for a bit.

Mitch stalked toward her and took a peek at her screen. She situated it so he couldn't see. "Privacy! You would not like to know what I'm writing."

It only intrigued Mitch more but he left it that. He took out his phone and checked the time. "It's 11: 47..." He puts his phone into his pocket once more. "Past your bedtime- wrap it up, darling," He gestured to her laptop. She blushed hard at the new nickname and typed a bit more, probably summarizing what she wanted to happen for her future self to write. She snapped it shut and handed it to him. He gracefully took it and put it on her desk across the room and put it on charge for her.

She watched him do so, smiling to herself as he bent don't to grab the cable cord. "You have a nice bottom," Y/n whispers bluntly. Oh, but he heard her. He quickly turned and stared at her with an open mouth.

It took a second to recover. "Go to sleep, Princess," he said as his brows raised emphasizing she needed to sleep. If only she could crawl out of her covers to grab that laptop to write what she just thought of... Then he was standing in front of her, swiping a strand of hair out of her face. It fell back into her face and she blew it out of her face completely. Ironically, it looked like she was from a cartoon. His hand stays in her hair, falling to her face to cup her chin with his thumb, and then he repeats himself.

She leans into his touch, Contrary to popular belief, autistics hate physical contact but she adored it. She loved simple actions like finger-holding, arm clinging, hugging, and cuddling. Kissing freaked her out a bit but she was sure with the right person she would love it just as much.

Then he walked away like nothing happened. Like he hadn't just cupped her face so tenderly. Like he hadn't stared into her doe eyes so lovingly. Like he hadn't glanced at her lips while holding her pretty face.

Then she flips over on her bed, stripping herself from her shirt under the covers, and throws it. She didn't know where. Nor did she care. Mitch watched her and practically choked on his spit when it landed at his feet. "I guess she didn't like the texture," He thought to himself. He grabbed a book from her shelf and began reading. He became shocked when the first page was a full warning page of triggers. He quickly put it back.

"Yeah, don't grab from that shelf. It's filled with smut. Go for the other, it's more educational," She laughed as her eyes found him with a red face in her corner. He nodded and grabbed another book, a book on night crawlers. She smiled at the book choice.

Mitch stares at her sleeping form. He was in the lovesac like he had been for an hour. She's been asleep for about 20 minutes. She was now whimpering in her sleep, she normally did this. But tonight? It sounded a little needier. Her hips proved that by grinding against her body pillow she was cuddling. Her light grey sheets were lower than they were when she started to sleep. They rested on her bottom, only covering her bottom half. His eyes trailed her back, examining the scars he could make out. From what he could make out was a lightning bolt tattoo that littered her back covering joining the scars.

He stayed on the lovesac, his legs manspreading as his hands rested on his knees. He found her resting form so peaceful looking. Like she wasn't scared of anything. But he knew she wasn't that peaceful because even in her sleep she was prone to attempt to escape. She tried on his first night of being her bodyguard. He took immediate action and comforted her on the floor, holding her while she calmed down from a panic attack. Ever since that night, she was benign to him, going easy on him compared to testing him like she had done on the first day.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when she kicked the covers off of her body. Her body snuggled into the pillow, appreciating the cool air against her legs. After a few seconds, her hips wiggled against the pillow, perfectly grinding against her mound.

To him, that sight was impure. Everything he wanted to see and not see. He pulled himself up, going against his urges to not touch her body. And he doesn't. Yet.

He gulps, and covers her back up, silently wishing to himself that she wouldn't kick it back off. And she does, instantly when the sheets touched her arms. He leaned in to look at her, checking if she was awake or not. His hand touched her forehead, then cupped her face and slowly moved to her shoulder. He takes a deep breath, trying his best to control himself over his sleeping client. She looked so sexy lying there... The image of her body grinding against her pillow popped up in my mind. Replaying it over and over. Was she having a wet dream?

Before he could answer himself he was pulled down by her holding his arms. She gruntles in her sleep and tugs on his arm, he falls into her bed but he catches himself. As he falls her legs wrap around his waist, locking him in place. This is wrong. So wrong. But her body against his felt so good. He could feel her breast against his chest, her breath on his neck, her delicate hands on his waist, holding him.

He sighs giving in and wraps his arms around her curvy form. He covers the both of them up, only with the sheets not wanting her to get too warm. "There," he whispers, mostly for himself. This was not what he expected when he took this job- But, at the moment, he was not going to complain. His warm calloused hands roamed her back, his fingertips trailing the scars along her back. Gosh, he could kill that bitch that harmed his little Angel...Did he just say that? His angel? He didn't care- she was his.

She moans in her sleep, breathy and husky with sleep. Her hands tighten around his shirt, grasping it like she wanted him closer. Her hips now ground into his hips and he stilled. He stiffened, his body and his cock. He could feel the blood rushing to it, hardening under her warmth need rubbing against his dick. "Mitchie... Please," she moans, her breathy moan tickling his neck. The hair on the back of his neck raised, goosebumps littering his whole body.

He bit back a satisfied moan and looked down over her shoulder at her hips moving under the sheet. He shouldn't be allowing this. He shouldn't- He didn't care. He wanted this.

His hands fall to her hips, helping her grind against him. His pants were so tight, that every movement caused painful pleasure to strike through him. Like it was intruding every nerve of his body. His mind was blank besides the pleasure and her sinful-looking body.

His lips planted a kiss on her shoulder, testing the waters. She breathily moaned. So, he kissed again, this time on her neck. This time it emits a loud satisfied moan. So loud he thought it woke her up. But it didn't. He was glad that it didn't, he wanted to enjoy this moment more.

Her body shakes as she orgasms against him. He doesn't let her hips stop, forcing them to continue against his clothed-hardened dick. As she finishes, he holds her up by the back of her neck, slowly leaning her back to get a better view. Her mouth was open and her eyes were closed. Her breasts were perky, and resting in front of his face. He leans in, giving one a kiss, his eyes watching her face so he would know if she was about to wake up. His tongue swirls around her hardened nipple, sucking softly as his lips closed around the areolae. His hands now massaged her hip softly, still going along with her movements. He was about to cum in his pants- He hasn't done that since he was a horny teenager. That was a full generation ago.

"Oh my gosh, angel- You feel so good," He moans softly. He couldn't help but praise her, even when she was unconscious. Her body seemed to react to the praise, her hips grinding harder. That was when he realized she was awake. He stammers, attempting to explain himself. But she cuts him off as she kisses his neck, licking and sucking the heated flesh.

"Tell me later," She moans, biting the area she just kissed. He groans hard at her teeth, never expecting her to be so harsh. He loved it.

"Fuck, Princess. You're going to give me a heart attack." He could hear his heart in his head, it was thumping, racing so loud. It almost vibrated his skull.

"You should have thought about earlier," She retorted with a click of her tongue. The click was loud like it was pulled off from the suction.

Y/n palmed his dick under her hips, grabbing it and massaging his length. He doubled over, his head resting on her shoulder. His left hand rested on the small of her back. "Do you want to continue you this, Mr. Rapp?" She asks sheepily. He nods into her shoulder, his right hand stopping hers. He lifts her with ease, placing her down once he stands.

"Since all you do is write... You should write this." He swiftly removed his belt with one hand, quickly maneuvering it around her hands as makeshift handcuffs. He tugged on it, checking if it was secure around her wrist. "Not too tight?" She asks, his eyes landing on her blown-out eyes. She nods, biting her lip with a small smirk.

That smirk was wiped off when he pulled her legs to the edge of the bed. His face was right in front of her mound. "Say you don't want this and I'll stop..." He leaves a few kisses on her inner thigh, slowly trailing to her covered pussy. Once he gets close he goes to the other thigh. "I swear I will." He looks into her eyes, giving her the most mind-numbing sight of the night. "Please let me have a taste, angel," He begged. He fucking need to. He wants to taste her juices. Even tasting her after they've finished. He hasn't eaten since dinner and that was almost 7 hours ago. He's starving for some desert.

She swore her heart stopped when he asked that. This was like straight out of a book... Gosh, when did Mitch get so hot? Her bonded hands attempt to pull her panties down but he smacks her hands lightly. "Let me," He growls, then begins pulling them down with his teeth. Once they were down at her thighs his hands removed them swiftly. Then they spread her apart, the flat of his tongue taking a long slow lick at her cunt. His tongue wiggles into her folds, collecting all of her release from earlier. He groans at it, the vibrations traveling to her clit. "I'm going to need more of this, angel," He murmurs before he continues lapping against her clit. "Taste' like honey." He then rises and pulls her into their first kiss. She groans, not expecting it to be like this. She did taste sweet, his tongue played with hers before he moved back down to play with her little button.

His hands rubbed up and down her thighs, as he ate her out. Her bound hands playing with his hair. The restriction of her hands pulled her breasts together, giving him the best sight ever. He was so hard it was begging to break free, already passed dripping precum.

"Mitch, please," she tried to breathe but her lungs were moving too fast. He got the hint, knowing well enough she was about to release on his face. And she does, she squirted all over his face; The liquid dripped from his face as he continues to tongue fuck her hole as his thumb rubbed her clit. She screams, letting her pleasure take over her form. Her body shakes, her thighs closing on his head like earmuffs.

After a bit, he pulls up and hungrily kisses her. But the kiss was slow somehow, wanting her to feel everything. Wanted her to taste her release more. He didn't want this quick. He wanted to drag it out as long as possible. He wanted a book, not a flimsy page.

His hands roamed her naked body, feeling all the imperfections that were viewed as perfections. It was like she was created by the gods. Hell, she was a goddess to him. He wanted to get on his knees in all different forms when he saw her file. He immediately asked to be her bodyguard. He wanted her to be his. He wanted to take her. And now, after just a few weeks he was able to.

"I need you, angel, I need you to say you're mine." Her hands fumbled with his pants, wanting to free his member. "Say it," he growled.

"I'm yours, Mr. Rapp!" she screams. He then flips her, her ass in the air. She didn't see him when she looked over her shoulder. But he felt her. He was lapping at her pussy again. Just when she thought he was going to eat her out again, she heard shuffling. He stripped himself of his boots first, the thumb being heard when he threw it near the lovesac he sat at earlier. Then quickly removing his clothes, he left his boxers on and pressed his hips against her. His clothed dick rested perfectly between her slit. "Do you feel that," He groans as he grabs her hips and pulls them to his. "Do you feel what you do to me?"

She wiggles her hips. "It's hard not to when your cock is pressed against my minge," She made sure she sounded sarcastic with her tone, wanting to make sure she was talking back.

He gave a dark chuckle as he kicked his boxers off. "I love it when you're bratty." His body leaned, pressing against her as he unbuckled his belt. He rubs her wrists, kissing them before separating them on each side. He held her hands down on the bed as his dick pressed against her entrance. "Do you want this? Do you want my cock to stretch you out?" She nods a yes, whimpering and pushing her hips back.

When it enters, it enters completely. He slowly moved inside her, not caring that the stretch was too much for her. It felt too good. For both of them. His thrust slowly became faster, fucking her with a medium rhythm.

Y/n's moans were all over the place, screaming then needy. Once he angles his cock to hit that delectable spot she was back to screaming. "That's right, dollface; Scream for me," he growls into her ear. He then plants a small kiss under her ear, telling her she is so good for him. "S'good; Taking your bodyguard's cock so well."

His trust get harder, now his hips were slapping her clit with each thrust. Her head shakes from side to side as the pleasure is too much. She wanted more.

Her body from her previous orgasms made her so sensitive. Especially her most recent one. But yet all she wanted was more. More pleasure against her craved sensitive body.

She could do was take his dick repeatedly. Her arms were pinned with one of his hands and the other held her hip to force it down and to stop it from squirming.

"My pretty angel, so pretty," he groans. He kisses her wet cheek. Somewhere along the way she had started crying from the amount of pleasure. This didn't stop him, only turned him on even more.

"Mitch," she gasps loudly. Her back arches due to the upcoming climax and she forcefully belches her orgasm around him. He chuckled darkly and slowed down her thrust to tease her and her eyes rolled back because it felt better for her.

He could sense his release appearing soon. "You want me to cum inside?" He wanted to go inside but her knew better to do that. Y/n shakes her head in a panic. He hums I'm response and kisses her cheek to reassure her. The rubber in his stomach then lets go in his stomach as he pulls out and cums all over her stomach. Some of his elixirs landed on her tits and he just doubles over and licks it off.

"Instead of spiders I think I might want to study this," she hums appreciatively pointing to his semi-hard length. He smirks. "Come here," she purrs. He obeys and leans down. Her hand grasps his cock and starts rubbing it as he hovered over her. She teases the tip, her finger gliding back and forth over the red needy bump. From time to time her finger would play along the slit and he would shudder as he tried to keep his eyes open to stare into her alluring eyes. "Doing s'good for me," she mocks playfully. "My Mr. Rapp is so handsome," she whispers. He shudders again and nods as his dick starts to twitch in her hand. "Love my bodyguard's cock, so fucking big," she moans before he cums again. He cums with a loud primal growl as his cum close and covers hers body once more.

#dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien smut #dylan obrien #dylan obrien smut #mitch rapp x reader #mitch rapp smut #mitch rapp x reader smut #mitch rapp #american assassin #bodyguard #Bodyguard!mitch rapp

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coconutdays · 2 years

Text

Computer Science major! Eren

s. part two! to this original post

w. fem! reader , eren jeager! x reader , fluff! smut! ( im a degenerate i know) im not a full on smut writer its just for the plot T^T

Computer Science major! Eren whose half lidded eyes grow wide and almost spits out his boba when you ask, "is this a date?" on your walk to the art exhibit.

"if...you want it to be." he side eyes you nervously

your mood shifts for a quick second and Eren panics at the change when you say, "doesn't really seem like you want it to be one with a response like that."

Computer Science major! Eren who almost drops his drink to quickly defend himself, "it's a date! it's a date!"

"that's more like it." you nod, cheeks puffing when you take a sip from your boba

Computer Science major! Eren who scrunches his nose in distate when you comment, "to be honest you always intimidated me cause you look like you hate everyone."

"what!?"

"yea the whole zero hours of sleep and always having your airpods in." you giggle

coincidentally he looks even more tired when he raises a finger to say, "okay i get like three hours of sleep."

"which is still bad." you tut, lightly shoving him to make a point

Computer Science major! Eren who shrugs, "i don't mind it. coffee exists."

"so do statistically shorter life spans."

"okay maybe getting like five now sounds nice."

Computer Science major! Eren who trips on his feet when you ask him to take pictures of you with certain paintings you liked. you looked painfully beautiful posing and smiling for him, and he instantly asks you for your number after the fourth painting

"and could you send the pictures i took to me." he adds quietly

"oh. okay." you blush, averting your gaze.

Computer Science major! Eren who you've noticed has tried his best to not touch you the entirety of this date and the observation has you swooning.

Computer Science major! Eren who somehow manages to nick pointer finger on the broken glass on his phone in a rush to take a picture of a cool car that was passing by on the way to drop you off to your dorm.

Computer Science major! Eren who's insisting he doesn't need a bandage when you try rushing him into your dorm at the sight of his very bloody finger.

"no i don't wanna make you uncomfortable in there. it's fine. besides, your rooma-"

"she's out of town at a tennis meet. now let's go inside, you're bleeding like crazy." you drag him inside, noting that the building is hotter than usual and a paper on the common room bulletin board says that the A.C. is getting fixed tomorrow morning.

Computer Science major! Eren who's now sitting on your bed, watching as you take out a first aid kit out from under your bed.

"fuck, it's really hot in here." he says, a rustle of clothes being heard as you get back up and-

Computer Science major! Eren who took his hoodie off and apparently seems to have a centipede tattoo wrapping around his right arm, dissappearing into his short sleeve.

"i didn't know you had a tattoo." you say softly, trying to mask your flushed state at the sight of it while you rummage through the first aid kit for rubbing alcohol and a bandage.

"i got it last year." he says while you take his hand in yours to wipe down his finger.

Computer Science major! Eren who hisses an 'ow' at the sting of the rubbing alcohol and eyes you fondly when you murmur a 'sorry'

Computer Science major! Eren who notes you're basically standing in between his legs, your cleavage right smack in front of his face as you concentrate on placing his bandage on right.

Computer Science major! Eren who touches you without a thought by placing the hand of his tattoo clad arm on your back while you play his nurse.

"you really need to get more sleep." you breathe as you stand up straight and try to avoid his gaze.

"why?"

"you have sex eyes, like the high on sativa sex eyes." you say in a scold, crumpling the used first aid supplies in your hands.

"you don't like it?"

the shift in his energy becomes quite noticeable and it makes you try to bully him.

"what happened to how emberassed you were when you said good girl?" you squint your eyes at him

Computer Science major! Eren whose cheeks flush at the mention of his mistake earlier during day but nonetheless his eyes are still hazy as he looks up at you.

"it slipped my mouth by accident" he rasps, "and i didn't know if you were into me or not."

you lovingly placed your arms around his shoulders, hooking them behind his neck, "well, now you know so you won't be emberassed when it slips out next time."

"next time?" he raises up his eyebrows in interest

"oh i shouldn't say something like that if we're not official." you comment at the realization that a next time isn't set in stone yet.

Computer Science major! Eren who now has both of his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him.

"wanna make it?"

"HUH. but we just met like last week!"

Computer Science major! Eren who cocks his head to the side in a 'really?' way

"doesn't mean i haven't been crushing on you since the semester began." he deadpans, undereyes growing prominent. it was true. and you as well had been crushing on him since the semester began.

"oh." you trail off, feeling your skin grow hot

"i think talking stages are stupid." he shrugs from below you, "if you wanna be exclusive with me just be my girlfriend. so what do you say?"

Computer Science major! Eren whose dumb fucking eyes make you squirm in place as you nod an almost shy 'yes.'

Computer Science major! Eren who gives you a handsomely stupid toothy smile in return.

"great. now i have a reason to chase away Kirstein from you."

"what!? the guy who sits behind you in class?!"

"we're friends, but he thinks you're hot. pisses me off."

you giggle, "and you don't think i am?"

Computer Science major! Eren who pulls you closer to him, "of course i fucking do dumbass."

"you're a mean boyfriend."

Computer Science major! Eren who relishes in the term coming out of your mouth for him, leaning closer to you, "yeah?"

"yeah." you nod

"i can show you mean." he grins, yanking your legs up and placing you on his lap.

Computer Science major! Eren who licks his lips when you try to distract him from the tension adamantly, "i haven't even kissed you yet so i don't know what you mean!"

Computer Science major! Eren who nuzzles his head into your neck, near your ear and breathing, "let me kiss you then."

"eren, i can feel your hard on." you point out nervously

"nothing new." he murmurs, "don't worry about it, i'll do something about it when i get to my place."

"or i could." you trail off

Computer Science major! Eren who starts kissing your neck as he a mutters, " 's all yours to play with then pretty girl, just let me play with you."

Computer Science major! Eren who groans when you guide his hand under your skirt and start unbuckling his belt, letting out a 'fuck' when he feels your hands on his dick to pull him out.

"you're really big." you sigh, squirming when you feel him drag teasing fingers along your panties.

"that's the point." he trails across your jaw, "you'll look cuter with it stuffing your pussy."

Computer Science major! Eren who smiles cockily at the whimper you let out, but it falls apart the moment you spit onto his cock and start thumbing at his tip.

Computer Science major! Eren whose lips are now less than a molecule of air close to yours, begging, "let me kiss you while i play with your pussy baby."

Computer Science major! Eren who rubs your slick all over your slit the moment you needily push your lips onto his, struggling to maintain your composure as you start stroking him.

Computer Science major! Eren who's panting at your touch in unison with you as you whine and moan with his fingers plunging in and out of you.

"im-im close!" you start shaking, unable to keep moving your hands along his girth at the immensily intensifying feeling in your stomach.

"already?" he comments condescendingly, taking the time to lean back and view your fucked out face.

"mhm! mhm!"

Computer Science major! Eren who uses his other hand to rub your clit while the other keeps hitting the one spot that has you grabbing at his shirt harshly.

"come on baby. cum for me."

"look at me. let me see your face when you cum so i can fuck my hand to it later."

Computer Science major! Eren who kisses you through your orgasm, lazily rubbing your clit as you come down from the high and marveling in the sight of you like this.

"i didn't make you cum." you breathe, feeling bad and reaching a hand out to touch him

" 's fine." he moves your hand away and tucks himself back into his pants, "just think of it as something you'll have to repay later."

"you sure ?"

"yeah. don't worry i'll get you back for it."

"oh." you blush

Computer Science major! Eren who's now hugging you close to him, staring at you when it suddenly looks like you've remembered something.

you look at the clock and start panicking, "oh my god it's so late."

"what's wrong about that?"

"you can't go home that late. i'm sorry. you can sleep here if you want."

Computer Science major! Eren who had plans to relieve himself when he got back home doesn't deny your offer, but does ask to use your shower.

"just let me use the shower cutie, i'm gonna go crazy with this hard on." he groans painfully as he stands up

"mhm!"

Computer Science major! Eren who comes back from his shower, grateful he chose to wear sweatpants this morning, and lets you bandage his finger again since it got wet in the shower.

Computer Science major! Eren who complies when you say you want to watch ratatouille and is now hugging you as you both watch a very skilled rat make french cuisine.

"yo."

"hm?"

"wanna be partners for the poly sci group presentation?"

"oh! yea!"

#eren x you #aot #eren fluff #eren jaeger #eren jeager x reader #eren x fem!reader #eren x reader #shingeki no kyoujin eren #eren smut #eren yaegar #attack on titan #snk

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