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melancholyhigh · 8 months

Text

ALL MINE.

ft. leon x f!reader

synopsis. you realize you're in love with your roommate. it sucks that he's ignoring you all of a sudden.

content. 4.7k words. smut. slight jealousy/possessiveness, subby leon, dry humping, handjob, finger sucking, praise & degradation kink, unprotected p in v (riding), overstimulation, creampie, slight subspace.

note. i had mental anguish while writing this so i apologize if it's not my best. i'm also sorry for being so inactive :((

masterlist. i love feedback & reblogs <3

Leon S. Kennedy was probably the best roommate you could’ve asked for.

He had fit the criteria you hand conjured for the perfect housemate the first time you met. Leon was calm, and the apartment was pretty clean. From what you can tell, he cared enough about himself and his surroundings.

Hell, the place looked almost uninhabited save for some trinkets and a few bits of his personality sprinkled about.

Only if you had known what you were getting yourself into when you had agreed to become his roommate.

–-

The first month of residing with Leon was great. You rarely crossed paths and never really communicated with each other due to how stressful looking for a new job was, and then proceeding to attend said job was tiring enough for you to make little social interactions.

He was relatively closed off as well. Not talking to you unless necessary or common courtesy such as a simple ‘Good morning.’

After you settled in, you noticed how much of a strange man Leon was. For one, when he did go to work, he left for weeks at a time, and in his return, he was even more closed off somehow. Leon doesn’t spare you a glance or a greeting, only grunting if you ask if he is alright.

He’s also covered in bruises and bandages, leaving you more concerned.

It made you question who really was your roommate.

In the first meeting you and Leon had, you inquired about his job, mostly to try and figure out how your schedule would work, but also with genuine interest. At the time, he merely shrugged, not answering your question point blank, telling you not to worry about it.

He mentioned his past job as a police officer. You’d dare to ask him more about it, but you didn’t want to pry, leaving the questions for another day.

Lately, you’ve been wishing more than ever that he had answered the question instead of dodging it. In rare moments that you focus on anything else but your job, it often leads you to think about Leon and what he does while he’s away.

It annoys you too that he doesn’t tell you when he’s leaving. He doesn’t owe it to you, but some nights you think he’s getting a drink, only to return a few days later bloodied and bruised.

One night, your overthinking got the worst of you after Leon returned to your apartment in the worst condition you’ve seen in the past few months you’ve been living with him.

Up late, you were in the shared living room, wondering when he’d get home. It had been two weeks since you had last seen Leon. It was way longer than his usual business days. You had been worrying nonstop, not getting a wink of sleep. Was he dead? You’d be the first suspect on the list.

You had called him multiple times, all going to voicemail. That is until you heard the faint creaking of the front door. There he walked in, faced all fucked up. His lip busted, sporting ugly yellow and purple bruises all over the exposed flesh of his body, and a bandage wrapped around his left hand blotted with dry blood.

He was awkwardly shuffling into the room, trying not to wake, you presume. A bit late for that.

“Where the hell were you, Leon?” your voice breaks the early morning silence.

You see him jump slightly in surprise, almost dropping his bag. A different emotion washes through him. A mix of fright and guilt, it’s different from what you’re used to seeing him with.

Leon quickly composes himself, going back to his stoic expression. Taking his shoes caked in mud off at the front door, resting his bag down, he walks over to the kitchen opening the fridge. The light streams out, illuminating the kitchen as you follow him, awaiting an answer.

“Didn’t I tell you not to worry about it?” His back is turned to you, rummaging through the contents of the fridge.

“You’ve been gone for two weeks,” you stress with exhaustion, eyeing his injuries. “What the fuck happened to you.”

He flexes his broad shoulder before turning around to face you. His gaze pins you down before he’s back to ignoring you as he chugs the cold bottled water in his grasp. The fridge is still open, and it adds more nuisance within you.

“It’s not that bad,” he shrugs. He finally shuts the fridge close, only the moon’s light filtering into the room. “Why do you care, anyways?”

“‘Cause when you go missing, I’ll be the one locked up, Leon,” you say. He’s staring at you, trying to suppress a smirk.

“You sure it’s not ‘cause you like me? I’m here to stay.” Is this fucker teasing you? He’s nothing like you first met him. Maybe it’s the blood loss. But to be fair, this is the first proper conversation you’ve had with him in months — you didn’t know how he actually was.

Rolling your eyes, you ignore him, shifting your focus to his bandaged hand, blood seeping through the fabric.

“Let me take a look at that, please,” you urge, taking his hand into yours. You overlook the questions blooming in your mind to tend to his injury.

“Okay.”

You turn the lights on, searching for a first aid kit. Once you retrieve it, you’re back in front of Leon, who’s sat patiently at the dining table.

You roll the sleeves of your sweatshirt up before carefully peeling the fabric sticking to his bloody skin. The large gash on the back of his hand makes you uneasy. It’s deep, almost to the bone, and blood spills onto his pale skin.

“Your stitches reopened,” you tell him, cleaning the wound with a damp cloth. What did he do to warrant such an injury? “If it worsens, you need to go to the hospital.”

“Mhm, you work with patients?” You shake your head, wrapping the wound with fresh gauze.

“What’s your job, then?”

You scoffed, “Some office job. What’s got you busy, huh?”

“Some government bullshit.”

–-

That night the relationship you had with your roommate shifted. For the better, you supposed.

You also bonded better with him the following morning while driving him to the hospital. He was so dramatic, yet he continued to undermine his clearly serious injury, refusing to go. The bleeding had not stopped, and you were worried it could get infected.

He was such a baby. You had bargained with him for his own health, promising to do his chores for a whole month so his hand doesn’t get amputated.

You never really did figure out what his job was, but you guessed it was most likely confidential. It was a vague answer to your question. He could be lying, but once you’re not behind bars, you can’t complain.

You and Leon spent more time with each other.

Even though you had no idea what his job was, he did tell you why he couldn’t disclose such information, something along the lines of putting your safety in jeopardy. Wasn’t him as your roommate just as dangerous? But you didn’t bother. He had his reasons.

Leon, on the other hand, probably learned too much about you and your job.

You weren’t familiar with the city or the people, so it was nice to talk to someone, and you may have gone overboard. You were here for a better quality of life, and it was significantly better than where you previously lived.

You loathed your job. Your co-workers were so condescending and passive-aggressive. Not to mention, you couldn’t quit. It paid enough for you to shut your mouth. Well, not to Leon.

You’re sure he’s sick of you talking and complaining. And when you’re not complaining, you both still get along about other stuff. You mostly banter, though, because Leon is such a child.

The guy can barely care for himself, contradicting what you initially thought about him. You care for him most nights after his so-called ‘missions.’ You rebandage his wounds, scolding him for not caring about himself while he’s looped up on pain meds.

Any other night — when he’s actively not trying to get killed, and you’re not incredibly busy — you both get drunk to attempt to forget about responsibilities. Often you were spouting drunken, nonsensical rambles as Leon somehow listened to.

Ironically enough, Leon cared about your well-being more than you do. Maybe you’re delusional, but you swear he does more than a normal roommate should. It’s because you’re constantly checking up on him, you reasoned. He’s just a respectable person.

But what kind of roommate consistently asks about how you’re going? What roommate get you your favourite takeout when you’re not feeling your best? What roommate threatens to beat the shit out of your annoying co-workers?

But you’ve acknowledged that Leon wasn’t your average housemate. Not just his job, but who the fuck looks that good when they’re bleeding out?

–-

Your job has a celebration upcoming, the company’s 50th anniversary. You barely made it a year working for the place, but you want to make a good impression. You also don’t want to bore yourself to death, so why not coerce your lovely roommate to join you as your plus one?

“I’m not gonna go. Don’t you hate that place?” You stare up at him, sulking.

“Good impressions,” you say before pleading, “C’mon, Leon, please. We can go to the bar after.”

He gives you an unimpressed look before turning away from you.

“I’ll pay for you.” You’re going to go broke because of this man. It catches his attention.

“So desperate,” he chuckles.

“You’re going?”

“I’m gonna run you dry.”

–-

You definitely weren’t prepared to see Leon in a suit when you exited your room. He’s sat on the couch, his hand nervously running through his hair — notably slicked down with gel.

“You that serious about making me go bankrupt?” You voice jokingly, breaking Leon out of his thoughts.

His eyes trail along your body, admiring the dress you wore — how it hugs the curves of your body — noticeably gulping as he stands up. The black suit fits his body, accentuating his broad physique and nice ass.

“I keep my promises. I hope you do too.” He says, before mumbling, “You look nice as well.”

You smile at him, ignoring the unusual feeling blooming in your stomach.

The event was indeed incredibly bland. You’re glad you bribed Leon into joining you. He’s been your saving grace. His sly quips and awful jokes have made the experience increasingly more bearable.

Your enjoyment seemed to fizzle when your co-workers wanted to converse with you. They never did before. Why would they now?

Then you realize too late that they’re not here for you. They’re there for the attractive male next to you. You watch in amusement as the girl blatantly ignores you in favour of Leon.

She’s sweet, you’d imagine, but Leon looks awkward, and there’s an uneasy feeling bubbling in your gut as she squeezes his arm in a flirting manner. The feeling is unlike what you’ve felt earlier.

You could go for a drink right now.

The poor girl’s attempt at seducing Leon goes on longer than you’d like. He’s uncomfortable, and you admire her persistence, but it’s getting on your nerves.

Didn’t she get the memo? He’s your plus one.

You decide to interrupt their conversation, you’re not particularly proud of it, but you want to get drunk. Maybe you’re doing Leon a favour as well.

You pull him away, not offering an explanation, just the promise of getting wasted.

When you’re at the bar, you both get settled, conversing and taking shots, all on you, of course.

Leon mentions that he understands why you hate your job and colleagues, and you laugh lightly at his claims. While you two talk, a few guys approach you, trying to get your number or asking to buy you a drink, ignoring Leon.

It wasn’t a usual occurrence, but it happened more often than not. And even though you find it flattering, it did begin to irritate you.

You politely declined their requests with an uncomfortable smile on your lips. It felt wrong to indulge in their proposals in front of Leon.

Leon’s eyes gleam with an unknown emotion as another guy approaches you. His grasp on the glass tightens, and it looks like it's about to shatter.

You once again deny the request. As you get more tipsy, your filter worsens as you half-heartedly refuse the poor guy. He walks away, visibly irritated.

“That’s the fifth guy to ask for your number,” Leon states, taking a swig of his whiskey. His grip on the glass loosens, but his shoulders are still tense.

You roll your eyes at his over-exaggeration. His suit’s jacket is off, revealing the white button-up shirt underneath.

“I wasn’t interested. A few girls asked you out, too,” you declared bitterly. You’re not drunk per se, just very tipsy.

“They’re not my type.”

“What’s your type?” Taking a sip from your drink, you observe Leon shake his head before downing his glass.

“Having fun?” you inquire, and Leon’s grateful you changed the topic.

“Liquor’s better when it’s free.”

–-

It’s the next day, and you haven’t seen Leon since.

When you woke up, you had a pounding headache. You walked into the kitchen expecting to be greeted by an equally shit-faced Leon, but he was nowhere to be found. It was unlike him.

Usually, he’s already making fun of you for being a lightweight, and you attempt to make breakfast together. He’s probably still in bed. He did drink more than expected. It was a miracle you both got home in one piece.

You took some painkillers before heading back to bed. If you’re up to it, maybe you’ll make breakfast later.

A few hours have passed, and still no sign of Leon. You wonder if he went to work, but that didn’t make sense. Why would he go to work with a hangover? Leon was a bit careless, though.

He was most likely ignoring you. That would be the last thing you wanted. He was the only person you cared to talk as pathetic as it sounds. Did you say something last night that upset him? He was his usual self, but you probably were too drunk to notice something off.

He probably has work-related things to worry about. Not everything was about you. Though, you were still concerned.

You had camped in the kitchen for a while, waiting for Leon so you could confront him. You wanted to make sure he was alright.

When he did enter the kitchen, you tried to start a conversation, only for him to dismiss you entirely. He refused to respond to your troubles, getting what he needed and returning to his room.

You thought it was a one-off thing, but sadly it wasn’t. Leon ignored you the following days, leaving you perplexed. You wished Leon would talk to you about what’s going on. Isn’t that what friends do? Communicate? Every attempt you tried to make was fruitless.

All he’s been doing was ignoring you, and it broke your heart.

His sudden indifference reminded you of when you first moved in. This abrupt disinterest in you left you staring at the ceiling in your bedroom, reflecting on your relationship with Leon.

You despise how he’s been acting lately.

You despise his reckless behaviour. You despise his hair that falls so perfectly. You despise how considerate he is. You despise how sweet he is to you. You despise how attractive he looks when he walks about the place shirtless, in short shorts that barely contain the flesh of his thighs and lay low on his hips when he’s sweaty after working out.

You despised how other girls looked at Leon. You despised how other guys looked at you, wishing it were him.

But you don’t hate him, far from it.

You loved his company. From the first night to the night at the bar. You wouldn’t want him to share that with anyone else. He was familiar, so it hurts that he’s been ignoring you.

He’s treating the moments you’ve had with him seemingly worthless, the time you’ve shared — the late nights when you cared for him. The insecurities you have confided with him. Did it mean anything to him?

He most likely wouldn’t reciprocate your feelings, and you doubt he could. His job explains itself, but you’re still worried as a friend — as his roommate.

Your overthinking has got the best of you, and fuck it. You’re going to confront Leon, whether he likes it or not.

–-

You’ve been building the courage to knock on his door for 20 minutes, pacing back and forth in front of his room door. You didn’t want to make him hate you more, but his bitchy attitude made you wonder why you even liked him in the first place.

Knocking on his door, you instantly regretted it, not wanting to make a fool of yourself, but you had to face him sooner or later. The door surprisingly opens, presenting you with a tired Leon dressed in nothing but his boxers. You probably just woke him up.

When you meet his soft gaze, his brows furrow, and he scowls. It’s been a while since he’s looked at you, so you can take what you can get.

“What do you want?” Leon dully asks, crossing his arms over his bare chest as he leans on the door’s framing. Okay, so he’s talking to you after a week of silence, granted, not like he used to, but it’s something.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” you counter bluntly, glaring at him. His facade crumbles, shoulders dropping as he frowns. He quickly recovers, scoffing and looking anywhere but at you.

“What are you talking about–”

“I’m not a dumbass, Leon. Just why? Are you okay?” you quickly cut off his poor excuse of a response. He shakes his head, his messy hair concealing his eyes as he tries to reply.

The look you’re sending him gives him goosebumps as if you’re reading him with just a glance. You are, and it’s terrifying yet so arousing that you can do so easily. Your eyes don’t leave him, trying to figure out his problems. It’s equally arousing how much you care for him, looking through him like he’s glass.

His composure crashes, stuttering an answer you’re unable to pick up. You stare at him, confused at his sudden nervous behaviour.

Leon’s selfish for wanting you all to himself. He doesn’t want to hurt himself with the rejection that you may throw his way. He doesn’t want to feel like that even though your actions say otherwise. He wants to tell you that, but what he says is much more pathetic.

“God, it’s you,” he repeats. The look of disappointment that crosses your face hurts. It hurt that he’s the one that made you look so broken so quickly.

“What?” Your voice falters, but you’re curious despite the ache in your chest. You’re not surprised. Maybe, a bit shattered.

“Not like that. I mean, fuck, I don’t know how to say this.” He awkwardly scratches the back of his neck as he tries to formulate his words, a blush dispersing on his pale cheeks.

“I was fucking mad, okay? Not at you– never at you. I hated how those guys looked at you. I know I shouldn’t feel like this. You’re my roommate, for fucks sake, but–” He continues to ramble on, and the words he spews give you whiplash.

You’re simultaneously flattered by his words and pissed. He was acting like a prick because he was jealous. As much as you were annoyed by his immature behaviour, you couldn’t ignore the butterflies swarming your stomach.

You impulsively crash your lips into his. He stops his rambling, startled, before melting into the kiss, his long lashes fluttering close. His plush lips move softly against yours. The kiss is soft and much better than either of you could’ve imagined.

Pulling away from him, you catch your breath, huffing, “You dumb boy.”

His cheeks darken in colour, the blush leading to the expanse of his chest. He grips your hips, tugging you closer to his body. You feel his dick hardening in confined in his boxers, pressed to your lower stomach.

“Fuck,” Leon gasps softly. You tuck strands of hair behind his ear, your nose bumping together as you admire his pretty face.

“All that from a little kissing?” you breathed against his bruised lips, your fingers toying with the waistline of his boxers. “You want me to help you, baby boy?”

“Yes, please.”

You frown, moving away from his hold. His face falls, his brows furrow in confusion as he pouts. “C’mon, Leon. You really think you’re going to get to cum that easily after ignoring me?”

“‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to. Please touch me. I– I’ll be your good boy,” he pleads, moving back closer to you, wrapping his arms around your midsection.

“Okay, sweetheart. You’ll get to cum if you behave.”

He captures your lips in a quick kiss, moaning softly before pulling away. He takes your hand, leading you into his bedroom, and you observe the new surroundings. Even though you’ve been roommates for nearly a year, you never saw the inside of his room. Posters of bands you weren’t familiar with were on the walls of his room.

“On the bed, baby,” you coo, and Leon shuffles on the navy blue sheets of his bed, leaning against the headboard. You crawl onto the soft sheets, straddling him as you seat yourself on his plush thighs. His warm palms shoot to rest on your waist, softly squeezing them.

He tugs you closer to him, pressing your chest flat against his. Leon gasps softly, his nipples rubbing against the coarse fabric of your tank top.

“S’much better than I imagined,” he sighs, guiding your hips so your clothed cunt drags along his prominent bulge. He groans, feeling your cunt dripping, soaking through your panties and shorts.

You move back from him, halting your movements on his hardening cock as you’re sat on his thighs once more. Your hands grip his arms, and even though he’s stronger than you, he ceases his motion. It’s so fucking hot how this huge man submits to you.

“You’ve thought about me in your lap?” you tease, palming his erection through his boxers. The head leaks precum, staining the delicate fabric. “Playing with your pretty cock?”

“Mhm,” he whines softly, bucking his hips to your warm touch. His head tilts back, knocking the wooden headboard quietly as he writhes at your touch.

“Ohh, you poor thing. Cummin’ in your hand wishing it was mine,” you mock, pulling Leon’s boxers down to reveal his throbbing dick flushed pink. It aches for your touch, twitching and smearing his precum on the dark curls on his happy trail.

“Fuck, yes.” Leon whimpers when you wrap your digits around his cock, squeezing it, oozing more precum, coating your fingers as you stroke him slowly. His hips eagerly thrust to meet your movement.

“So, so pretty.” The blush on his cheeks somehow deepens at your words. His head is spinning, and not just from your touch. He roughly grips his silken sheets, bunching them up. You thought he was pretty?

“God, baby, you’re the prettiest.”

Fuck, had he said that out loud?

His back arches as he nears his orgasm, pleasure rushing through his body. His thighs tremble as he spills his cum, coating your hand. You don’t stop tugging on his weeping cock, living for the little cries he makes from being overstimulated.

“Don’t, m’ sensitive– shit,” Leon whines, and you finally take your hand off his spent dick, admiring his cum dribbling onto your fingers. Leon props himself up, chest heaving as he tries to collect himself.

“Did I say you could cum?” you tease. Leon’s eyes widen for a second before pleading for forgiveness.

“I- I didn’t mean to. God, I’m so sorry. I’ll be your good boy.” He sniffles softly, and you take pity on his cries. You’ll punish him another time.

“It’s okay, honey. Can you open wide f’me?” you say. Leon does as he’s told, parting his lips and sticking his tongue out. You wished you could take a picture.

You place your index and middle finger on his tongue, pressing down. Leon wraps his lips around your fingers, sucking his cum off them. Moaning softly, he peers up at you through his lashes and gags when you push your fingers further down.

“You’re such a slut, Leon,” you say, pulling your fingers out his mouth, lips slicked with his spit. You flicked his nipples, causing him to moan loudly. His cock is beginning to harden once more.

“I’m your slut.”

“Think you can go one more round, baby?” you asked, hovering over his rock-hard cock, before sinking down. Your drenched pussy through your thin shorts stimulates his overly sensitive dick, and he groans softly, squeezing your waist.

“Wanna take care of you too, angel,” he murmurs into your ear as you grind yourself onto his erection. “Can I eat you, please?”

“Maybe next time, honey.”

“Fuck, okay. Can you kiss me?” You press your lips to his softly, and he whimpers sweetly into your mouth. Pulling away from him, you take your shorts and panties off, and they’re fucking drenched. Leon tugs your tank top off, and you giggle at his eagerness.

Your body, so soft and warm, is pressed against Leon’s. It’s almost enough to make him cum, and he’s not enough inside you yet. You slide your dripping cunt along his shaft, ensuring he’s fully hard. Leon fucking whines each time the tip of his cock nicks your entrance, begging to plunge in.

Every time the tip nudges your clit, your cunt clenches, and each flutter sends his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“Please, angel. Fuck me. Use me– I don’t care. ‘M all yours.” You guide his cock to your entrance before finally sinking down slowly. The tip enters you with a soft moan. He’s so fucking thick. Once fully sheathed in you, you grip his shoulders for support.

“You’re all mine to use, right? F- Fuck, you’re stretching me so good, Leon.”

Your tight walls hug him so tightly, and when you bounce on his cock, each drag of his sensitive dick adds to the building pressure in his tummy. He filled you so good, reaching spots you didn’t think were possible as you used him like your toy.

Leon thrusts his hips to meet your pace, your ass slapping his thighs, making obscene sounds. He can’t get enough of you. From your tits bouncing as you rode his cock, or the expression you hold when he hits that special spot.

It’s so much better than he has imagined.

He rubs your clit with his thumb, a broken whimper leaving him when your gummy walls clench around him tightly. The pressure in his tummy was rising, and you were no better as he played with your clit.

“‘M so close, sweetheart. Can I cum in you, please?” he pleads, his hips stuttering to meet each of your moves. His pink lips parted, eyes barely stayed open, and he looked utterly ruined.

“Yes, baby.” You trail kisses along his neck, sucking marks along the column of his throat. You’re pleased with yourself that you’re the reason he has those marks now. Each bruise you suck on his flesh adds another butterfly to his tummy. He’s all yours now.

“Cum with me, please.”

After a few more thrusts, the pressure within him bursts he cums inside you, filling you with his warm seeds. You climax along with him. Your cunt spasms around his sensitive cock, gushing its arousal, clinging to his happy trail.

You collapse on top of him, your head falling on his shoulder. Leon kisses the top of your head, nuzzling into your hair. You try to get off to clean yourself and Leon up, but arms encircle your waist, preventing you from doing so.

“Stay with me, sweetheart. Don’t want you leaving.”

You comply, laying with him, your skin, sticky with sweat and cum, clings to his as you both enjoy each other’s embrace.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #re4 remake #resident evil 4 #leon kennedy x you #leon s. kennedy #leon kennedy smut #resident evil 4 remake #resident evil #leon kennedy resident evil #resident evil smut #reader insert #smut #re4 smut #re4 #i need to peg him #✩‧₊˚ fics

4K notes · View notes

candy69gurl · 1 month

Note

gojo x reader somnophilia; noncon, where the reader doesn't agree to do it while she's asleep? but gojo can't keep promises so he does it without his consent?? :3

TOUCH IN THE DARK

Gojo Satoru x f!reader

Warnings- 18+, dark, non/con, somnophilia, nipple play, fingering, blow job, pussy eating, use of nicknames, raw sex (cumming inside)

wc - 1.5k

ART NOT MINE !

"Stop being so touchy," you say, slapping his hands away.

Gojo chuckles softly. “Sorry, I just can't keep my hands off you, pretty girl.” His arms encircle you as he presses his body up against yours. His lips brush against your skin, and you can feel his breath on your neck.

He releases you, pouting angrily, saying, "You never let me touch you."

You sigh as he lets go of you.

“Please,” His voice is a mixture of pleading and anger, and your mind is telling you to let him touch you. That would be the best thing to do in this moment. Instead, you reply, "No"

His face lights up with anger when you turn down his advances. His eyes pierce through you, demanding that you allow him to touch you. With his head tilt and eyes fixed on yours, he utters the simple words, "I will touch you when you are sleeping if you don't let me touch you."

"Don't even think of it", you give him a death glare.

He laughs ominously. As he speaks, he raises his face directly above yours. "Who's going to stop me, hm?"

"I WILL"

He's still staring down at you, laughing, his intense gaze never leaving you, he says: "Fine, I will not.. If you at least let me kiss you."

"Mhmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm maybeeeeeeeeeeeeee someday" You say, smirking, pushing his buttons.

His face turns into a playful pout. "Maybe?.." He lifts your chin with his finger, and you feel his hot breath on your neck. "Just maybe?"

Once more, you smacked his hand off. "yes maybe"

He removes his hand and massages the spot you struck. "You're such a tease."

It's like 2:47 a.m. Time has passed since you had the conversation with Satoru, and now you're fast asleep.

Your body shifts in the sheets as you feel somebody's hands on your body. You immediately get up and yell, "Didn't I tell you not to do this?"

"Fine, fine, I got caught," he says, turning his back to you as you both go back to sleep again.

Time travels to late at night, when you are soundly asleep.

Satoru's strong arms wrap around you from behind, pulling you tightly against a muscular chest. Gojo's deep voice whispers softly in your ear, "I can't resist anymore, my dear Y/N. Please let me fuck you."

He kisses the back of your neck gently before slowly moving his hands inside your tee, exploring your delicate, sensitive skin. His fingers trace the outline of your curves, feeling the warmth of your skin. His erection presses firmly against your backside, demanding release he hasn't allowed himself in so long.

Finally, unable to contain himself any longer, his hands travel to your breasts. He discovers you are not wearing bra, he squeezes them gently; whispering, "Y/N, I need you tonight. Whether you wake up or not, I'll have you."

Your eyebrows frown in sleep.

His grip tightens on your waist, and his breath hitches. As his fingers brush over your nipples, he whispers, "You look so powerless when you're in deep sleep."

His lips trail down your neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake. Satoru growls, "You don't even push me away now."

He pinches your nipple gently. He is so sure that you are not going to be awake anytime soon. He releases a frustrated growl, his cock throbbing painfully.

"I've wanted this for too long, Y/N." He murmurs, his voice thick with lust.

He carefully pushes your t-shirt up. He shifts himself, placing your arms around his neck, his soft white hair brushing your chest as he stands beside the bed, gently striding his tongue against your nipple, causing your body to twitch slightly and your nipples to harden.

"Nooo.. Don't wake up.. sh sh sleep, my baby, keep sleeping, mhm."

Your movements die out as he exhales, his breath hitting your half-hard nipples and making them erect again. A dreamy expression clouds his face as he reaches down to play with your clad clit, watching as your breathing shallows and your hips buck subconsciously. Seeing this, he swiftly pulls your underwear off, revealing your wet honeypot.

As he gazes upon your wet, pink flesh, desire courses through him like wildfire. With a fierce determination, he slides two fingers inside you, stretching you impossibly wide. Your slit grips his digits hungrily, demanding more. He cannot resist the urge to thrust deeper, grinning wickedly at your responsiveness. Your innocence is no match for him, consumed by his fiery passion.

You stir in sleep as your stomach feels weird.

Gojo quickly pulls his finger out, hoping you will wake up and swear at him but you did nothing.

"Damn you," he whispers under his breath, struggling to keep calm. The scent of your arousal lingers in the air, driving him insane. Sweat trickles down his temples as he wrestles with indecision. Eventually, he decides to taste you while stroking himself. He is glad you are still sleeping. Gently, Satoru parts your thighs and licks your clit, slowly dragging his tongue along the length of your slit while stroking his hardened cock.

Your body shudders in reaction, and your breathing is becoming increasingly erratic. Despite the situation, it seems that you are beginning to respond positively. Gojo continues to tease your core, reveling in the way your hips rise to meet him. With every flick of his tongue, he pushes you closer to climax.

Your legs grip his tightly, forcing more of his tongue inside your gummy walls.

A satisfied growl escapes him, and he increases the intensity of his assault. Flickering faster, he teases your bundle of nerves, determined to take you over the edge. Your soft moan escapes your lips.

He quickly stops thinking you are awake now, but seeing your peacefully sleeping face makes him sigh in relief.

"It looks like you're in deep sleep, princess. Gotta take advantage of the situation." With that, he positions himself to enter you.

"Just the tip, and I'm going to cum." Taking a deep breath, Satoru slowly sinks his tip into you, his shaft stretching your walls wide open.

You gasp lightly, yet remain asleep. He pauses briefly, relishing the feeling of his tip being buried within you.

"Shit, I want to go further in." Slowly, he begins to force more of himself into your abused hole. "Aah~ So good, so warm, so tight.. mhm," gojo moans in pleasure.

The sensation of something being inserted into you makes your eyes shut open.

Satoru freezes, realisation dawning upon him, but he does not withdraw.

"SATORU WHAT'S THIS?!!", using one leg you push him against his abs.

"It's just a dream, Y/N. Go back to sleep," he pries himself off your leg, holding them firmly as he stops moving further inside you.

You try to get up, but he pushes you onto the bed.

"Please, Y/N, I need this so much." With that, he pushes himself fully inside you.

"F-fuckk!" you scream in pain and pleasure. "Please complete it fast."

Satoru's eyes flare in response to your plea. He thrusts into you with urgency, hitting your spot repeatedly. Pleasure washes over you as you cry out, your nails digging into his broad back.

He claims your mouth in a desperate kiss, sucking on your bottom lip before releasing it.

"You shouldn't have asked me to move faster; now you'll get what you deserve," he groans.

Each thrust becomes harder and faster. You gasp for air, panting heavily beneath him. He pounds into you, your wetness coating his shaft with every stroke. Savouring the way your muscles clench and release around him, Satoru becomes increasingly aggressive..

"Ah, please. Satoruu. I am going to cum", you cry out.

"It feels good, hah?! Mmm~ yes, yes, cum for me!" he roars, spurring you on.

Finally, you shatter into an orgasm, your inner walls milking him as you call out his name. He follows suit moments later, burying himself deep within your core and riding out his own climax.

When your bodies cool down afterwards, Gojo rolls to the side to catch his breath, leaving you panting and satisfied.

"You are so stubborn", you say still panting.

Satoru chuckles, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "It's true, Y/N. But you are stubborn."

He pulls you close, wrapping his arm around your waist, and rests his chin on top of your head. "You are not resisting my touch anymore. Does that mean I can touch you more often now?"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP," you struggle in his grip.

"Chill, I was just joking," he says, kissing the top of your head. Despite your protests, you eventually drift off, your heart beating steadily against his chest, knowing that playing hard to get is always successful.

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sofie-toffy · 5 months

Text

Mizu Headcanons

AN: Broo ive just finished blue eye samurai and im obsessed w it..so here are some headcanons! SHE WAS SO FINE IN THE LAST SCENE BTW UGHH

(I’ll be separating it based on genre eg. angst or fluff)

Warnings: Angst, Contains mentions of death & murder, spoilers! The fluff is x reader

(if you know me irl, no you don’t)

Angst:

- Mizu often thinks about how life would be if she chose to forgave her husband and didn’t kill him

- After Ringo leaving her she feels awful for what she’s done and wishes that she could let go of her revenge path but cannot

- Once Mizu’s “mother” betrayed her and Mizu killed her, she still had the motive of killing her father, but instead of the motive to avenge her mother it was to curse the man that made her live in the first place

- She understood that she never should’ve been born in the first place and was born as monstrous, hence her obsession with revenge. But there is obviously a part of her that wants to live a peaceful life

- She normally has panic attacks but no one has ever witnessed them except Swordfather

- When she was with her husband (the night before the sparring) that was the only time she felt loved for who she was

- She wanted to show who she really was as her husband asked to, and once she did she was called “a monster” and now she’s reluctant to show anyone even half of who she really is

- She overworks herself to the point of exhaustion and most times collapses, forgetting to eat and rest

- Whenever she checks her reflection, she imagines herself with brown/black eyes

- (Canon) she wears the same clothes she wore since she was a child and stitches them whenever they tear

- because of her binder she often has trouble breathing but she’s so used to it she thinks it’s normal

- She once wanted to gouge her eyes out so she won’t witness the looks of disgust when they see her eyes

- She’s entirely convinced that there’s no way she’ll ever be truly loveable. She’s convinced she’s monstrous in every way, from the hues of her blue eyes to the violence she bears

(MY POOR BABY I LOVE HER SM I JUST WANNA SEE HER HAPPY N SATISFIED 😭😭)

Fluff/Not angst(finally)

- Love language is quality time & acts of service

- Although she’s not aware of it, she has an unconscious fixation with music. Mizu has always been drawn to musical festivals and it both calms and excites her

- If given the time, she normally asks if you want to go to festivals (her unnamingly pleading for you to agree) and her face is relaxed the whole time, her fingers intertwined with yours

- I feel her normal dates with you would be very simple. She’d enjoy just spending time with you, quietly or with small chatter

- She loves stargazing with you. My god. Laying beside each other, feeling each others warmth contrary to the harsh snow as you look at the different constellations

- Actually, you’d be looking at the constellation while she looks at you with a small smile tugging at her lips, while she adores the light in your eyes as you gaze up

- Speaking of holding hands she LOVES to hold your hand, doesn’t matter if your hand is cold or warm, it intertwines with hers perfectly

- Whenever you compliment her eyes she doesn’t believe you until you say it a thousand times

- takes a LONG time to warm up to you, but once she does it is SO worth it

- unconsciously misses your warmth, once sleeping she searches for your hand to hold or for you to hug

- speaking of hugging, i think she can be both spoons but mostly big spoon

- loves resting her head on your chest but loves wrapping her arms around you, ensuring that you are safe

AN: GUYS I NEED HER SO BAD U DONT GET IT

#blue eye samurai #blueeyesamurai #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu #mizu x reader #mizu x you #mizu headcanons #mizuxreaderhc #headcanon #headcanons #mizu fanart #fluff #besfluff #besangst #angst #fanfic

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softtdaisy · 11 months

Note

“is it okay if i stay at yours tonight? i don’t know if i can stand another night away from you.” with charles

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x female!reader

Words: 1080

A/n: this story is just me being in love with Charles so I hope you will appreciate all my soft feelings 😭💛

To say you were taking your time with Charles was an euphemism.

You two had been seeing each other for a few months now. When you met, it was evidence that something bigger was coming for you. You could tell from the way your heart beat faster, how it felt like nobody else was in the room when he looked at you or how a simple smile from him was giving you hope.

But you were both out of serious relationships and not ready to engage in a new one. Not that you didn’t want to. If it were just up to you, you would already be together. But you both agreed that this wouldn’t be fair to either of you. Plus you needed some time to adjust to the idea of everyone knowing about your relationship and fans potentially posting about you on social media.

Charles being away most of the time clearly helped. You had dates like every three weeks when he was coming home. Or when it was possible. But you didn’t complain.

You were calling each other almost every night. It started as a casual thing, you wanted to know about his qualifications and his race. And Charles would tell you all about it, even about the things you saw on tv. There was something special about lying in bed and listening to Charles’ story. How he laughed slowly like he could wake up people in the other room. How he would yawn but swear he didn’t want to hang up. Or, sometimes, how he would fall asleep and you could hear his peaceful breath.

But to be honest, you did that too.

And from calls on Saturday and Sunday, it became calls anytime he was in another country. And from these calls, it became everyday calls. Five minutes or two hours didn't matter. All you both wanted was to hear your voices.

You might not be together yet. But you were already very much in love.

Hopefully, tonight was a night where Charles was in town. You couldn’t count the number of times you planned that together on the phone. Charles was so excited about seeing you again that he had booked everything two weeks in advance. “I want it to be perfect!” He said one day when you explained how the restaurant kept assuring him that yes it was booked and no there was no mistake. That night would be a special night.

When you opened the door, the whole world stopped turning. The man you love was there, looking beautiful and absolutely amazed by you. Charles took the time to look at you before giving you his bright smile and offering you his hand. “Bonsoir mon amour.”

Like a pure gentleman, he kissed the hand you gave him. Before pulling it to bring you closer and giving you a proper kiss on the lips. You laughed against his mouth even if you were used to it.

“Ready to go?”

“Of course, I don’t want to miss the reservation you keep telling me about.” You replied, teasing him. He gave you a shoulder bump before walking you out. The perks of being in Monaco was that you could do so many things on foot. So you could both telling each others about your day already.

Like you can imagine, the whole night was perfect. Charles chose the best Italian restaurant here and you noticed how anxious he looked. Like he was scared you wouldn’t love it. He wanted everything to be perfect for you, he couldn’t imagine losing you. Not now, before you even started something real. Not ever, now that he knew he was madly and truly in love with you.

“I love it, Charles. I promise!” You told him when he gave you a side look while drinking his wine.

“Well I hope because I plan on taking you here for our future anniversaries.” He said out of nowhere.

Well not really out of nowhere.

He opened the door to your future. Waiting to see if you would follow him inside. So when you put your hand on top of his, he felt like he wasn’t alone on this new path. “Then I know we will have the most amazing anniversaries every time.” You added, with a soft smile.

It felt like a dream. Walking hand in hand with Charles in the middle of Monaco. There was something almost magic about how some people would look at you and give you a respectful smile. One that meant “we see you but we won’t say anything.” Monégasques loved Charles so much they were ready to protect him like their child.

You turned your head to look at him. How the moon reflected on him. How good he looked with his shirt with two buttons open. How you loved to see his necklace hanging against his chest.

“What are you looking at?” He asked with a small laugh.

“Have I ever told you how dreamy you look?” You swear you could see him blush when he heard you.

“I think you did, yes.”

Before you notice, and earlier than you hoped, you were back in front of your apartment. You didn’t want this night to end. You didn’t want to let him go again. You couldn’t handle losing him somehow and wait again to see his pretty face.

When you faced Charles, you could read the same thoughts in his eyes.

That didn’t stop him from putting his free hand on your face to get closer to you. You felt his breaths against your lips before he finally kissed you. It always made everything so intimate and you were falling for this. He left your hand so he could put his on your neck. You loved how some hairs got tangled with his fingers. It was like every part of your body wanted to be connected to him.

Charles put his forehead against yours, sounding breathless after sharing all his love through a single kiss. “Is it okay if I stay at yours tonight? I don't know if I can stand another night away from you.”

It was finally here, the moment when everything changed between you. The step you still had to make. You met his beautiful eyes and all the hope that he had about your answer. Maybe your smile gave away your thoughts. You could feel Charles relaxing before you even speak.

“I thought you would never ask.”

#Charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #Charles leclerc x you #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 story #f1 imagine #f1 blurb #f1 fic #f1 fluff #f1 x you #my writing

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azullumi · 10 months

Text

“post-breakup” ; genshin men

summary — what occurs after the two of you had separated your ways from one another?

characters — albedo, alhaitham, diluc, kaveh, kazuha, and wanderer (w/gender-neutral reader)

tags — a sprinkle of angst, some fluff; headcanons/drabble

words — 1284

notes — word vomit (TT) this idea was stuck in my head

KAZUHA, it was the middle of july, he loved you, and the words, “do we still know each other?”, stumbled out of your lips as you gazed at the night sky. he could not say anything to your question but you knew his answer, you both knew the answer. you were gone just like how summer had ended after that day. he thought it was normal, after all, it was just something you could call puppy love, his first, and firsts are often never meant to last. but thoughts come and go inside his head when the bitter feeling of loneliness and grief finds him on a thursday morning—he wished he had stayed.

you will always be his first love, in this universe and in every other, he will always love you even if that feeling will soon come to pass. he still loves summer, craves for it when the coldness of winter comes—but oftentimes he means summer from years ago when you were still in it. he still loves you and perhaps he was still searching for the sweet laughter that echoed inside his ear and those eyes that warmed him more than the sun; it’s the middle of july, the sun is high up in the blue sky, and he wishes he could have peeled oranges for you.

DILUC, he could still remember that moment when it ended, the way you called out to his name so gently only to say such heart shattering words in the end yet all he could do was wish you happiness even if he isn’t there to see it anymore. but he does see you even if you’re not there, he sees you in the sun that goes down the horizon and painting the skies in different hues, in the trees that stood so mighty and strong around his manor, in the butterflies and the flowers that surrounded his vineyard—you were everywhere but not nowhere beside him.

he’ll be fine, he assures himself, almost promising, and yet he still freezes up every time he hears someone with the same name as you. he knew he was over you, however, or perhaps it was just a mere bluff for himself to believe as he still wishes for you to come back even if you were just a shadow—he still had a lot of things to tell you. oh, how much he regrets sewing his mouth shut and choosing to admire you in every chance he gets, he could have told you he loved you; you still live in silence between his thoughts.

ALBEDO, he lacks intense emotions and perhaps even the understanding of it, too subtle in expressing them that makes him appear as emotionless or reserved, almost like he’s not human at all (in which he is). so when you had presented the idea or the decision to break up with him, he had agreed and just like how he sees things in a logical manner, he thought more of the events that led you to that conclusion and the consequences it will harbor in the future—it was for the better for you, he thought more of your happiness and wellbeing, but he never thought of how it will affect him.

no one will ever be able to knock the wind out of him again in a way that you do. you were once strangers to each other, he could have lived with that, he had lived without knowing you once and now it had occurred, how come he still wakes up with things to tell you? there’s the sickening feeling of unfamiliarity in his stomach despite not being foreign to loneliness, he was used to being alone, he should be used to being on his own; he just misses you, in a way that is so simple and desperate, so human.

ALHAITHAM, it happened, the two of you had outgrown each other and are now on the paths leading to a different part of your lives and there was no chance the two of you could be holding your hands as you walked down it together. and it was a mutual agreement, a decision that was made after careful consideration—he knew that he shouldn’t hold you back and you knew the same for him. but it’s 2 a.m and he just couldn’t help but wonder what could have gone wrong.

it’s the silent flashbacks that get him every night that he spends alone; and he doesn’t know if you came in the form of a nightmare or a sweet dream whenever your smile, your laughter, every inch of you haunts his sleep. it persists, stabbing into his head, burying inside his mind. it took him everything to get there and now he’s here—he could only wish that grief and absence didn’t take place of a person, of you—, it was a correlative conclusion, one that was done in the living room the two of you used to spend and share lovely moments with—he could still hear and see the ghost of you in each corner of his home.

KAVEH, he swallowed his words down just like how he did with the lump on his throat, nodding his head and agreeing to what you said even if no words past those had registered inside his mind, then the two of you have separated your ways, he watched your back knowing it was the last time he will ever see it and blinked, etching the memory of it inside his mind beside the words you had told him—except he’s there right where you left him, broken and lost.

he looks in the mirror, loses his mind a little, gets frustrated over a small mistake on his paper, he walks through the busy port of the city, he falls asleep and dreams at night then wakes up in the middle of it. it was how it is, he could never cope with your absence, could never dwell on the feeling of emptiness. his skin could no longer remember the gentleness of your caress nor could it no longer recall the words you have murmured against it, all that was left of him was the memories that stuck in his heart and mind. in which curve of his smile and the pitch of his laughter did you not understand that all he wants is to spend the rest of his life watching the sunset being reflected by your eyes?

WANDERER, is all too familiar with the feeling of abandonment, people just leaving him, and it was no wonder that you, too, would be the same as them. scoffing a “do whatever you want” before he walked away even if it left a bitter taste on his mouth. he wasn’t confident that you were coming back to him—nobody ever did—but he still hoped that you would have knocked on that door and he would have opened it and welcomed you, without not rolling his eyes, mocking you yet in a tone filled with that giddy warmth that he always feels whenever he sees your idiotic smile or hears that stupid laugh.

oh, he could call you names now, insult you, and list out every single thing he hated about you—including the song you always hum whenever you’re in the middle of doing something and the small habit that you do whenever you’re confused or distracted—but what else is there to it? what good will that do to him? he still loved you and he had to carry that weight on his fingers because he has nowhere else to put it down if not on your hands. he’s still there, waiting for you to come knocking at his front door.

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geekywritings · 1 year

Text

“Come back to bed.”

Today, I present to you my interpretation of the lovely anonymous ask I received:

“Reader was super touch starved before they started dating and Cal is super touchy, and she loves it but also has trouble getting used it. But her favorite thing is when he rubs her back (comfort or just to be close) and it just becomes a thing for them??"

Again, lots of fluff, so enjoy!

___________

Touch… Such a simple thing. A sign of trust, a proof of friendship and a language of love all at the same time.

You’ve always had a strange relationship with the concept. On one hand, you feared it, on the other, you desired nothing more than to experience its effects. Thinking about it, your paradox connection to touch probably stemmed from your upbringing. Your mother had worked in one of the adult entertainment establishments of Nar Shadaa, with you growing up in this strange world of opposites.

Poor workers, rich clients. Big expectations, and crushed dreams. Honest touch and paid-for love. It all mixed together in this place, and you had watched it all from the kitchens where you were being kept while your mother served drinks to the various males that frequented the “The Pearl” every night.

Hugs were rare, as your mother wasn’t the type for it. She showed her affection in different ways, first and foremost by sending you away when you were old enough, thus saving you from a future in the establishment.

You attended a pilot academy and graduated among the top of your class. By that time, the Republic had fallen and the Empire was recruiting capable pilots left and right. Needless to say, the strict regime didn’t exactly encourage comradery and touch either.

And so you grew more and more hungry for it, while never quite knowing why.

You also hated working for the Empire. Payment was bad, the treatment of people horrendous and everything about it simply felt wrong.

It was by pure accident that you crossed paths with the rebels when one of them tried to pay you good credits to smuggle someone off-planet along with your booked cargo. You had agreed, mostly for the credits, to be honest, but eventually, helping people became a mission. A true purpose. Something fulfilling.

You also came to love one rebel in particular: Cal Kestis. You had run several missions for and with him until he eventually asked you to join his crew permanently. They could always use a good pilot, he argued. A good friend of his, Greeze, used to be the Captain of the impressive ship he used to get around, but the Latero had retired or was at least taking an extensive break.

And so your story with Cal had begun, quickly growing from allies to friends and eventually romantic partners. It had all happened so fast and your head still reeled from how the redhead had managed to worm his way into your heart. Never had you met anyone displaying such kindness, gentleness, patience and respect. It was impossible not to fall in love with him.

He taught you how to fight as well, organizing a metal staff for you after you turned out to be a rather poor shot. You two sparred regularly, with the Jedi putting his combat training into good use to teach you new tricks.

The crew around you changed constantly. Some left, some died, some joined you only for a specific job. But Cal, BD-1 and you were a constant on the Mantis. They were your family and the ship your home.

Often, you would sit awake long into the night, staring out into the galaxy passing you by and thinking about what your life would have been like if your mother hadn’t saved up every credit to send you away.

“Didn’t you say you’d join me in 10 minutes?”

You turned and found Cal leaning against the doorway leading to the cockpit. His hair was tousled and his eyes sleepy, but a small smile was playing on his lips, as he crossed his arms in front of his bare chest.

“That was three hours ago, love.”, he added when you sent him a confused look.

“Oh…”, was all you could say, not having realized how much time had passed. Getting lost in memories did that to you.

Stifling a yawn, Cal moved to drop into the Co-pilot seat, green eyes searching yours.

“Can’t sleep again?” His voice was full of sympathy as he reached out a hand to rest on your knee.

There it was again: touch.

Cal always reached for you. Whether it was for a hug or a kiss, to hold your hand, to just feel you near or to make sweet love with you. Every touch from his was special and you did your best to reciprocate. You still remembered the look of pure joy the first time you initiated a hug or gave him a kiss or reached for his hand on your own. It helped you greatly to open yourself to the kind of love language you had yearned for, yet still needed to grasp fully.

You stared at his hand on your knee and slowly placed yours on top of his.

“I was thinking about my mother… and everything she did to give me a good life.”

Cal nodded in understanding, but didn’t say anything, allowing you to unload your thoughts. He knew your past and had even volunteered to help your mom, but she had disappeared from “The Pearl” after your graduation with no sign of her to be found.

“She saved you. That’s love.”, he eventually spoke and you smiled.

“I wish I could have shown her more that I loved her.”, you sighed. You regretted that you hadn’t hugged her more on your own accord.

“I am sure that she knew.”, Cal assured you, ever the supportive voice for your conscience.

You smiled at him and nodded, before slipping from the pilot’s chair into his lap, arms sneaking around him. “I love you, Cal… And I want to show you every day.”, you muttered into his neck, as his arms came to rest around you.

“You do show me every day, Starlight.”, he whispered back, holding you close. “And I am so very grateful for it, because I love you as well. To the end of the Galaxy and back.”

For a while you just sat in silence, enjoying the proximity, Cal's hand drawing small circles on your lower back. It was your favourite, really, the gesture always helping you relax.

“Now come back to bed, love.”, the Jedi whispered eventually and you nodded, allowing him to carry you back into your room, where you both gave into desire.

Touch… Such a simple thing. A sign of trust, a proof of friendship and a language of love all at the same time.

You’ve always had a strange relationship with the concept. But you were ready to open your heart to it fully, as long as Cal was with you.

#cal kestis #cal kestis x yn #cal kestis x you #cal kestis x reader #jedi survivor

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humansofnewyork · 8 months

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(7/54) ”In Shahnameh there’s one word that Rostam uses more than any other: 𝘋𝘢𝘢𝘥. Justice. 𝘋𝘢𝘢𝘥 is a simple concept. It means that everyone gets what they deserve: both good and bad. Everyone gets a fair share. The Nahavand of my childhood was very poor. People would come to our door each day asking for a single piece of bread. It seemed unjust to me. So I decided I would not eat more than that. My mother begged and begged, but I would not do it. I decided that if I became king, every child in Iran would be given their fair share. But until then I should participate in their suffering. I had no idea how I would become king. In Shahnameh it seemed so simple. Good kings glowed with light. Their wisdom was plain for all to see. I was an optimistic child. I felt that if I could use my voice, and speak about 𝘋𝘢𝘢𝘥 —then a path would open up before me. When I turned fifteen I went to boarding school in Tehran. It was nothing like Shahnameh. Half a million people lived there, and it was a time of great upheaval. A huge debate was being held over the nationalization of oil. The streets were filled with voices of every kind, and nobody could agree on the future of Iran. I realized that many people didn’t want the same things that I wanted, and for complicated reasons. At the end of each week I’d go to the house of a relative to pick up my allowance. His wife was the first person in Iran to have a cooking show on the radio, so sometimes I’d stay for dinner. They had a young daughter named Mitra. Her hair was cut short in the style of a famous American actor. One of her hands was crippled by polio. She was very shy about it, but it was never something I noticed. Back then most Iranian girls were modest and deferential, but not Mitra. And she argued with everyone: her friends, the help, her family, and me. One night over dinner I started speaking about the past greatness of Iran: who we were. Back in the days of Shahnameh. When I finished talking, Mitra was the first to speak. She said: ‘You talk about Iran like it’s a lion. But it’s a cat.” That was the year I discovered something new. There are love stories in Shahnameh too.”

واژه‌ای که رستم بیش از همه‌ی واژگان به کار می‌برد: داد است. عدالت. مفهومی‌ست ساده. بدین معنا که هر کس هر آنچه را شایسته‌اش هست، دریافت می‌کند. هم نیک و هم بد. رستم می‌گوید: جهان را همه سر به سر گشته‌ام / بسی شاه بیدادگر کُشته‌ام. فقر در نهاوند کودکی‌ام زیاد بود. هر روز می‌شد تنی چند به خانه‌مان بیایند و تکه نانی درخواست کنند. غمگین بودم. بر آن شدم که برای همدردی با آنان تکه نانی بیش نخورم. مادرم بارها خواهش کرد، ولی من خودداری می‌کردم. می‌اندیشیدم که اگر شاه بودم هر کودکی در ایران به سهم عادلانه‌ی خود می‌رسید. امروز تنها می‌توانم در رنج آنها شریک باشم. هیچ اندیشه‌ای درباره‌ی چگونگی پادشاه شدن نداشتم. در شاهنامه دنیا بسیار ساده به نظر می‌آمد. شاهان خوب در هاله‌ای از نور می‌درخشیدند. خردشان بر همه آشکار بود. من کودکی خوش‌بین بودم. بر آن بودم که اگر از عدالت بگویم، راهی پیش رویم باز خواهد شد. در پانزده‌سالگی، راهی مدرسه‌ی شبانه‌روزی البرز در تهران شدم. تهران شباهتی به شهرهای شاهنامه نداشت. نیم میلیون نفر در آنجا زندگی می‌کردند، و آن روزها هنگامه‌ی دگرگونی‌های بزرگ بود. کارزاری گسترده پیرامون ملی‌ کردن نفت در سراسر کشور برپا بود. خیابان‌ها پر بود از صداهای ملی‌ها، ملی‌گراها و کمونیست‌ها. روشنایی و تاریکی درهم آمیخته بودند. به دلایلی پیچیده بسیاری از مردم با آرمان‌های من همراه نبودند. پایان هر هفته، به خانه‌ی یکی از خویشان می‌رفتم تا کمک هزینه‌ی هفتگی‌ام را دریافت کنم. همسرش نخستین زنی بود که در ایران برنامه‌ی آموزش آشپزی رادیویی داشت، گاهی برای شام می‌ماندم. دختر نوجوانی داشتند به نام میترا. موهایش را مانند یک بازیگر مشهور آمریکایی کوتاه کرده بود. دست چپش به دلیل بیماری فلج اطفال اندکی ناکار بود. می‌کوشید آنرا بپوشاند. من آنرا نادیده می‌گرفتم، به نگاه من چیزی از ارزش‌های او نمی‌کاست.در آن زمان بیشتر دختران ایرانی سربه‌زیر و خجالتی بودند، ولی میترا اینگونه نبود. او با همه بحث می‌کرد: با دوستانش، با خدمتکاران، خانواده‌اش و من. شبی هنگام شام، از بزرگی‌های ایران باستان گفتم. و اینکه در روزگار شاهنامه چه بوده‌ایم. و چگونه می‌توانیم دوباره آن بزرگی‌ها را بازیابیم. پس از سخنانم، میترا پیش از همه چنین گفت: «تو از ایران به مانند شیری سخن می‌گویی. ولی ایران گربه‌ای بیش نیست.» در همان سال بود که حس تازه‌ای در من جان می‌گرفت. شاهنامه داستان‌های عاشقانه هم دارد

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apollyonsdarksecrets · 8 months

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Let’s Start With The Basics

Part one, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six , Part Seven

Summery: She’s reserved, emotionally cut off, and spiraling down a dark path; one she can’t get out of on her own. Aaron Hotchner may be her only help, but at what cost? When he shows up to her hotel room, contact in hand, she realizes it may be more than what she bargained for.

Warning: 18+ Only MDNI SMUT. Language, BDSM, Dom Aaron, emotionally detached reader, typical CM violence, childhood trauma, abusive father figure, age gap (reader 25 Aaron 40) doesn’t line up with a specific time line, use of Y/n because story is set in 3rd person for the first half then switches POV, last name for reader is Smith,

Specific chapter warnings: blood, Reader eating, (probably incorrect) child psych evaluation, BDSM dynamic discussion, clothes shopping with the one and only Hotchner, mentioned rules and punishments, Rossi is in this chapter, mentions of Jake but not shown, a little sugar daddy Hotch?? Let me know if I’ve missed anything 💜

*~*~*~*~*~*

11 years ago

“I’m-I’m so sorry, daddy.” She cries, his grip on her wrist only tightening as she’s dragged across the hardwood floor. Her chipped nails dig into his meaty hand, trying to pry herself free the closer they get to the bathroom.

“Useless, useless fucking girl. Can’t do a damn thing right.” The smoke alarm screams behind them, smoke filling the room from the burning pan on the stove. He staggers on his feet, tugging her forward and her socks sliding across the floor. “Can’t even make my fucking dinner!” He barks, his glossy eyes staring down at her as they reach the door.

“I didn’t… I didn’t mean to.” A nasty sneer pulls at his chapped lips, showing yellow teeth behind a greying beard. “I can fix it, please I can.” She begs louder her eyes never leaving the door, the darkness beyond beckoning her into its grasp.

He pushes the door open, the hinges squealing as light floods the dilapidated room. Sections of the drywall are missing, revealing the pink insulation. The once white tiles are now brown, stained with years of dust and dirty, jagged and broken in many places.

“You’ll never be like your mother.” His voice is thick with grief, he’s looking at his daughter but not seeing her, instead he sees the hole his wife had left behind. “Never even wanted a daughter. Shoulda been a boy.” He propels her forward, flinging her into the room and she lands on the floor with a scream. A piece of tile coming loose, slicing deep into her thigh, blood pooling on the floor underneath her.

“Ah!” She cries, scrambling to sit up her hands slipping in the red mess underneath her. She grips at her leg, pieces of the tile sticking out of her pale flesh. “Daddy… I… ah it hurts!” She glances up at her father, his form silhouetted against the light. Her hands, sticky and covered in crimson, shake harshly as tears begin to slip along her cheeks. “Please help me.”

The door closes solidly, trapping her once more in her own hell.

Present Day

You sit rubbing at your thigh absentmindedly, the scars throbbing dully, and you wonder if it’s just all in your head. A knock at your door sets you into motion, pulling your thoughts together with a firm shake of your head. Aaron greets you with a soft smile, and your eyebrows raise in surprise. He’s dressed in a simple white long sleeve, and dark blue jeans, the most casual you’ve ever seen him.

“I didn’t know you owned anything other than a suit.” You step past him, pulling the door shut and pocketing the keycard.

“There’s a lot you’ll learn about me.” His voice holds a hint of mischief as he places a warm hand on your lower back, walking you towards the elevators a few doors down. “Come, Rossi already has our table.”

You pull up short, making him stop beside you. “Rossi? I-I thought you said we were… um… discussing what we had agreed to last night.”

“And we will, once David has left. He won’t be staying long.” Aaron starts walking again, pulling you along with him. He presses the button on the small panel and the elevator dings, metal doors sliding open. You take a deep breath before stepping in.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The steam from the eggs curl into the air as you sit down next to the older Italian man. He smiles warmly, and some of your tension starts to melt away. That is until Aaron joins you.

“That’s not all you are eating?” He sets down his plate, giving you his best ‘unit chief’ stare, his frown so deep the lines in his forehead stand out more prominently. Out of the corner of your eye Rossi smirks into his coffee but stays silent otherwise.

“It’s all I want.” You say dismissively, picking up your fork, going to stab a chunk of eggs when suddenly the plate is pulled off the table. “Hey!” But Aaron is already walking towards the breakfast buffet, huffing you slouch in your seat, knowing you look like a scolded child.

“Off to a rocky start, huh?” Your head snaps up in David’s direction, but he’s focused on the newspaper on the table. It’s opened to the daily crossword puzzle and he’s only filled in half of the blocks, his pen tapping against the table top.

“What do you mean by that?”

His honey brown eyes slide to yours, a dark eyebrow raised suggestively. You flush, heat rising to your cheeks so fast you think you might combust. He knows, and if Rossi knows, who else might be privy to your secret? Anger is suddenly building in the bottom of your stomach when a warm hand wraps around your own. “He didn’t tell me, but it wasn’t hard for an old pro to figure it out. Aaron’s only doing this to help you, there’s no shame in accepting it.”

Aaron suddenly sits across from you, setting down a plate filled with fruits and vegetables, a steaming bowl of oatmeal as the centerpiece. The aroma is heavenly as it wafts into the air, making your stomach grumble and your mouth water. “How do you know I like oatmeal?”

“Who do you think keeps the instant stuff stocked in the bullpen’s kitchen?” He smirks, watching your eyebrows furrow, before you give in, stabbing the gooey food. He digs into his own plate asking Rossi what he will be doing until it’s time to go home.”

I have an old buddy that lives just a town over, I figured now is as good a time as any to pay him a visit.” He finishes off his coffee with a sigh, scribbling in a few more letters.

“What time do we leave?” You chip in, looking to Aaron expectantly.

“Friday morning.” Hesitation drops on your shoulders like a ton of bricks, realizing that you will be alone with Aaron for three days, trying to make sense of your new dynamic. At the look of alarm on your face David asks if you’re okay.

“Y-yes I’m fine. I need to call my boarder though. See if they can watch my dog for that much longer.”

This time it’s the men who look surprised. “A dog?”

“Bruce, my six year old boxer.” You had found him wandering the trail you jogged one morning, just a scrawny little pup covered in fleas and dirt. He had walked right up to you, tail wagging so hard you thought he might fall over. Bruce had climbed up right into your arms and you knew from that day on you two would be inseparable.

“Huh.” Rossi nods, “I always pinned you for a cat girl.”

“I guess the profilers aren’t always right.” You jab with humor, smiling at him.

He laughs, shaking his head as he gathers his newspapers. “Correct you are, my dear. I’ve got to head out, you two don’t kill each other while I’m gone.” He gives you a pointed look and you shrug, feigning innocence. He bids Aaron goodbye and as he walks past he leans down, a hand on your shoulder. “Just follow the rules, kiddo.” You watch him leave, and you feel most of your ease go with him. When you turn back to the table Aaron is watching you intently.

“What?”

“I always thought you would of had something a little more exotic.”

You shrug your shoulder, leaning back in your seat. “I guess there’s a lot you’ll learn about me as well.” You throw his words back at him but he catches them well.

“Are you ready to begin?”

You set your fork down, and despite the apprehension filling your stomach you pull your shoulders back with a nod. Aaron pulls out the papers, setting them in the middle of the table. “Were you able to read any of this last night?”

You shake your head, gesturing to the paragraphs before you. “Not any of this, no… but i did skim over the rules.”

Picking the papers up you start reading as Aaron speaks. “It’s simply a legal statement protecting both of us. It states you have given your consent to the relationship, and that I will only ever do anything set within your boundaries. You will follow our established rules, which most likely won’t be what’s listed, these are just guide lines. Also that I won’t use my authority to abuse you or harm you in anyway.”

“And… this is supposed to help me, how? Just follow the rules and I’ll be right as rain?”

He frowns at your sarcasm but you hold his stair, jaw set. “When someone joins the military, they have everything provided for them. Housing, food, clothes, tools to which get the job done. These are all things that they no longer need to worry about, taking the stress off of their plates and letting them focus on their jobs and other aspects of their lives.”

You begin to understand where he is going with this, your eyes dropping away before looking back. “This is essentially what I will be doing for you. I will provide you with what you need, so that you can live your life a little easier, better yourself in both your personal life and your professional.”

“What do you mean by provide?” Your eyebrow rises, flipping to the ‘Rules’. “I thought this was staying strictly to our time outside of the office?” The thought of being found out fills you with dread, the shame and ridicule you would experience would ruin your career with the BAU.

“The relationship we develop will stay strictly after hours, as long as we are both discreet there is no reason for anyone to suspect anything. With that being said though I expect you to follow the rules to the best of your ability.”

You lean forward, your voice staying quiet despite the dining room being practically empty, the other occupants to engrossed in their own conversation to notice yours. “You keep saying relationship…” Aaron leans in as well, large hands resting just in front of your own.

“You’re a smart girl, Y/n. You must be aware of my feelings towards you.” You cheeks flush despite yourself, your lips pressing into a thin line. Aaron, though, smiles at your reaction. You never put much stock into how Aaron acted around you, or if he treated you differently than anyone else. Looking back on it all though, you can see it, how he always lingered close, his gaze always locking with yours when you would look up. Small little things that could add up to all of this.

It wasn’t that you hadn’t thought of Aaron in… that way. There is no denying how handsome he is, even with the lack of expression. He is a damn good agent, and cares for every member of his team, and the rare glimpses you’ve seen of him with his son would make any sane woman weak in the knees. But you would never let your thoughts stay too far, afraid of what they could become.

You clear your throat, leaning back and fidgeting with your silverware, the metal gleaming under the fluorescent lights as you turn your fork back and forth. “So… I’m your girlfriend then?” You’ve kicked yourself all night for not asking more questions before agreeing to this, now you’re in a legal binding relationship it seems. With none other than your drill sergeant boss.

“If that’s the easiest way for you to put this, then yes; but I need you to realize our relationship goes well beyond those things.”

“If I decide I don’t want that? That I don’t want to be under your thumb? Then what?” Your voice is sharp though you refuse to meet his gaze, your shame filling you till you’re ready to burst like an overinflated balloon.

“Then we shred this up and forget it was offered. You’ll go to therapy like we agreed last night.” You flench at the thought, sighing and titling your head back.

“Okay… but I have to ask, what do you get out of this? Aren’t you already swamped with work most of the time? And you’re a father on top of that. Isn’t ‘looking after me’ just going to add to the stress of it all?”

“I find peace with taking care of someone, it helps me as much as it will help you. It can be hard to explain everything you’ll feel but I can assure you, it’s worth the try.”

Nodding you take a deep breath. “Alright… I will still agree to the month. But don’t expect me to go falling head over heels for you Hotchner.” He laughs and it’s a warm sound, one that turns a few heads of other females in the room.

“Baby, that’s the last position you need to worry about. Now eat, we are meeting Jenny and her mother in an hour.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

The car ride to the police station is at best uncomfortable. The first ten minutes spent in utter silence until Aaron speaks. “Tell me something about yourself.” Your eyebrows raise but you don’t turn towards him, keeping your eyes focused on the road ahead as he turns the corner.

“I thought you knew everything there is to know?” You can practically feel the glare he’s giving you.

“Y/n.” His voice is a deep warning.

Sighing you tap your fingers against your leg. “I like rock music… I’m very allergic to bees and I have a weird phobia of maggots.”

“Maggots?” This time he chuckles.

“Yes… I read something about a man’s leg getting infected and when he finally went to the doctor there were… maggots living in his wound.” You shudder at the thought, squeezing your eyes shut to rid yourself of the mental imagine.

Aaron grimaces beside you, “Yeah that would do it.”

“What about you, Agent Hotchner? Any weird fears or the such?”

He takes a moment to think, and you wonder what he’s choosing that won’t give to much about himself away. “I have a scar down my back from when I tried climbing the water tower in my home town as a teenager. Fell off the ladder halfway up and into a tree.” You laugh genuinely, the thought of a young Aaron explaining that to his parents comical. “Good to see someone else can laugh at my pain.”

You roll your eyes, seeing his smile out of the corner of your vision. “Uh-huh.”

Soon enough you’re pulling into the parking lot, black and white cars surrounding the SUV as you both step out. You grab your dark green bag, hoisting it over your shoulder. Doing this job for so long you’ve perfected your methods of therapy for the children you work with. Playing and keeping their minds partially distracted as you pick out information for their evaluations has been your biggest helper. Now you carry around a bag stuffed with whatever a child may like.

Waiting in the lobby is Jenny and her mother, she’s finally had a bath, her blond hair shinny and straightened, her clothes clean. She spots you as you approach and she gives you the most tentative smile. “Mrs. Campell?” Aaron greets, holding his hand out to the mother. Carl.

Her daughter is the spitting image of her, down to the shape of their noses and the light dusting of freckles that cover their faces. “Please, just Carl.” She stands, taking Aaron’s hand. “Thank you, again so very much for finding my daughter.”

“We’re happy we could help, this is agent Smith, she is actually the one who found Jenny.” The mother turns to you with fresh tears in her eyes, and before you can extend your hand she is engulfing you in a tight hug. Awkwardly you hug her back, patting her shoulder gently.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, ma’am.”

She pulls back with a big smile, finally releasing you. Jenny stands from the bench, coming to lean against her mothers leg. “Mrs. Smith will be conducting your daughters evaluation today, and I will be finishing up some of the paper work to finalize booking process.”

You squat down to Jenny’s level, smiling sweetly. “Hi, Jenny. Do you remember me?” She nods slowly, her small fingers picking at a loose thread on her mother’s blue jeans. You take note of the unicorn on her shirt, pulling your bag to your side. “Ya know, I think I have something in here for you.” Her blue eyes dart to your bag as you rummage through it, the excess of toys making noise as the knock together catching her interest. “Ah! Here we go.” You pull out a pink and white unicorn, her face lighting up, her mouth dropping open in surprise and awe. You hand the toy over and she takes it excitedly.

“Mommy look!”

Carl smiles, passing her hand over Jenny’s hair. “Wow, what do we say, baby?”

“Thank you.” She’s missing a front tooth, the gasp giving her a little bit of a speech impediment, drawing out the ‘th’ sound.

“You are very welcome. Now, would you like to go play while your mom and Mr. Hotchner talk? We all can go into that big room right there.” You point over her shoulder to the empty meeting room, not wanting to cause any distress that may occur from being separated from her mother. Jenny nods again, her smile never faltering.

*~*~*~*~*~*

“In my professional opinion Jenny is coping very well with everything that has happened to her. That being said, either being so young she might not fully understand everything that has happened. Don’t be surprised if she’s a little more dependent on you, wanting to be near you more, sleep with you at night, and so on. She could have nightmares and if you feel like she needs therapy I can find you a list of the best in town. But you have a strong daughter, Miss. Carl.”

Carl sighs in relief, leaning back in her chair as she turns to watch her daughter. Jenny is sitting crisscross on the floor, Aaron mirroring her as she tells him all about unicorns and fairies, his attention never straying. “Thank you, I never thought this would be a fear of mine. I couldn’t eat, sleep, think straight even when she went missing. My entire world is her, and the thought of losing her was just…”

You reach out, giving her hand a firm squeeze. “Soon this will all be a distant memory.”

She mouths a last thank you as Jenny suddenly runs up to her, Aaron placing the toys back into your bag. “Mommy when is lunch?”

You all bid your goodbyes and once you are buckled into the passenger seat you let your body sag, closing your eyes. “Are you okay?” You don’t answer for a minute as Aaron starts the car, pulling away from the station.

“It’s hard sometimes.” You start, fidgeting with your fingers, “Knowing what a child has been through, then I have to judge them on their ability to cope. Kids can be so resilient, so strong, yet they are supposed to be the one thing we protect the most.”

Aaron nods, glancing at you time and again as he drives back towards the hotel. “These are the worst types of cases, and truly no one really wins in the end. The damage is done, it’s just a matter of what degree.”

You hum in agreement, finally opening your eyes to stare out the window. The sky’s are filling with grey clouds, the November air chilly and your thankful for the heat in the car. People bundled up in large coats and scarves hurry along the side walks desperately trying to get from one place to another.

“I understand it can be hard to talk about these things… but I hope in time you can come to trust me.” You finally look his way, his attention fixed on the road ahead, but one of his large hands rests on the center console, like he is thinking about reaching for you but not quiet yet.

“So um… You never showed me the last page.” You flip script easily, pushing away his sympathy.

Aaron presses his lips into a thin line before answering. “Punishments.” You laugh involuntarily, that had to be the most absurd thing you had heard since this whole thing began. But the stern look Aaron gives you when his eyes slide your way has the humor lodging itself in your throat.

“You aren’t serious?”

“How else are you supposed to learn not to break the rules?”

“Um I don’t know, tell me I broke them and I’ll do better?” You ask incredulously, lip curled up as you turn in your seat to face him. Aaron doesn’t answer you, his focus on the road ahead. “What kind of punishments? Are you gonna throw me over your knee if I miss a meal?”

“If that’s what it takes then yes, but that’s not usually the first resort. We will cross that bridge when we get there.” You roll your eyes leaning your head back against the headrest, finally noticing that he has driven right by the hotel.

“Where are we going?”

“You have gone through your clothes, we are going shopping.” He’s reading the street signs as he drives, completely unaware of the slack jawed look you are giving him.

“What? No we aren’t.” You protest.

The car slows down a busy street, pulling off into a curbside parking space. The walkways are lined with y’all buildings, department stores, restaurants, businesses, all with their warm glowing signs and bright interior lights. Aaron turns to you fully, the same stern expression he always wears in place. “You’ve run through your clothes, you wore that shirt two days ago with a different pair of bottoms. In fact, I’ve only ever seen you wear the same four pairs of slacks, one grey pencil skirt that you constantly fight with, and six blouse.”

“So? I like to keep it simple, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“You need new clothes, and it’s either I take you to get them, so you can pick them out and try them on, or you can give me your sizes and I will do the shopping for you.” You press your lips into a thin line, glaring at him. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

“I don’t have the money to go shopping, Hotch.” You finally relent, realizing he isn’t going to give up, so you have to give him a reason to.

Aaron’s frown softens, and he’s reaching out, taking your chin in between his fingers. You hold your breath, reliving last nights feelings all over again as he leans in. The space in the SUV suddenly seems so small, so compact with the both of you this close. “Baby, I didn’t ask you if you had money. I told you I would help take care of you and that includes clothing. Do you understand?”

“But-.” You begin, only to have his grip tighten, tilting your face down slightly so your forced to look up to keep eye contact.

“No more arguing. Grab your jacket it’s cold outside.”

#smut #apollyonsdarksecrets #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch smut #aaron hotchner smut #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #aaron hotchner x reader

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azwhore · 6 months

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this is pt. 2 to my last post, hope you like ;)

words: 2.6k

warnings: smut, fluff (this is pretty fluffy), oral sex (f and m receiving), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, public sex, unprotected sex, edging i guess?, am i missing anything?

<><><>

It’s been about 10 minutes of you and Alex resting peacefully on each other. He provided you with the most delicious, but simple, dinner. It was really needed after your day from work.

“You know…” he interrupts the silence. “The surprise isn’t over just yet, love.” Alex holds this cocky tone in his voice. What is your boyfriend planning?

“Oh? Well how ‘bout you tell me, Turner?” You ask, ever so curious. He moves his head off yours as little pieces of hair fall over his forehead. Picking up your head as well, you look at him, puzzled. He places a passionate kiss on your lips, wanting more, but stopping.

“That would just ruin the surprise, now would it?” Way to beat around the bush. Alex gets up, leaving you stranded on the blanket. You’re confused, wondering why he left his spot next to you.

He looks back and stops in his tracks, saying in a sweet tone, “You coming, love?”

You stand and walk over to him, asking, “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see. You should grab a sweater.” He says coyly. You glare at him, not entirely liking the secrecy. Alex swallows his saliva, nerved by you. He knows better than to rile you up.

“Uh, don’t worry, love. It’s nothing bad. Promise.” Right.

You nod, walking to your closet to grab a cream colored cardigan. It was thick, but not enough as to make you hot.

You stride back to Alex at the exit of your apartment. He takes in your beauty once again, not looking away.

“Wow…”

“What?”

“I just can’t believe you’re mine.” This man sure knows what he’s doing. You’re flustered by the comment. You still never get used to his compliments; it makes you feel good each time.

“Let’s go.” You say, a bright red blush spreading across your cheeks. He smirks at you. Alex knows exactly what he does to you.

***

You both get downstairs, arriving at his parked car. Alex opens your door for you, waiting for you to get inside.

“Ladies first.” You roll your eyes slightly at his comment, smiling. He closes your door, walking over to the driver’s side.

“Seat-belted?” You nod. It’s only the bare minimum to ensure your safety. He buckles himself in and starts the car. Alex then puts his arm on your seat to look back as he put the car in reverse. You stared at him, drinking in his features: chiseled jaw, brown, light curls, a slight vein popping out in his neck. Man was he a god.

He noticed you staring. You look away as he lets out a smirk.

“Enjoying the view, love?” he says in his usual cocky tone.

“Shut up.” you sound irritated. Alex lets out a chuckle at your words. He loved teasing you.

***

After about twenty minutes, you arrive at a park. It looked to be a little secluded, yet there were still quite a few people. It wasn’t anything outrageous, but it was still beautiful. Trees and bushes scattered everywhere, as well as street lamps and benches. You’ve always enjoyed nature; Alex knew that. So this seemed to be the perfect place to take you on a Friday night.

“Surprise!” he silently shouts in a sing-songy voice.

“Wow, this is beautiful,” you say, true to your words. Just from the entrance the park looked amazing.

Alex gets out of the car and jogs over to your side. He opens the door, slightly bowing as you step out.

“Milady,” he worships in his thick accent.

“Why thank you kind sir.” you respond, giggling. Alex loved hearing your laugh. It warmed his heart each time. You were like the first day of spring.

You hook your arm through his as you stroll through the park. Alex mentions going along one of the paths to which you agreed. Both of you point out different things that peak your interests. At one point, he mentioned a squirrel stealing a piece of bread from a bird. After a little while, the two of you have seen just about everything.

Alex suddenly brings you against a thick tree facing away from the path. He immediately starts kissing and nipping at your neck, trying to get more access

“Alex…” you say out of breath by your boyfriend’s actions. “Wha-What are you doing? We’re in public!” you whisper-shout. You don’t need anyone around to hear what the two of you are up to.

“You didn’t think that was the only surprise, did you?” he says between kisses. You try to suppress your moans, biting on your lip as he continues to ravish your neck. You bite so hard you could practically taste the metallic taste of blood.

“Shh… be good and stay quiet, yeah?” Alex knows exactly what he’s doing. “Are you okay, love?” he asks.

“Mhm..” you try to form a word, but to no avail.

His hands are on your lower back, slowly caressing it. Alex then moves down slowly to your chest, peppering kisses and licks all over it. He pulls down the sweetheart line of your dress, exposing your breasts. Your nipples instantly receive a rush of cold air. You try to suppress a soft moan at the contact, but failed.

“No bra, huh?” He smirks as he brings your nipple into his mouth. Alex works on it slowly, giving it kitten licks and pecks.

“Alex,” you sigh, “please…” You’re breathless.

“What is it that you want, love?” He teases. He knows exactly what you want. As he asks this, he switches to your other nipple, giving it the same attention as the other.

Your hands are occupied in scratching his scalp, too busy to touch him. Instead, you press your knee gently to his cock, rubbing it; he’s almost completely hard. Alex groans into your breasts at your touch as he continues his abuse on your nipple.

He gives your nipple one last kiss before he moves even lower to your core. Alex gets on his knees, hands resting on your thighs as he’s looking up at you. It’s almost like he’s pleading.

You nod to give your confirmation. That was all he needed for him to pounce onto you. Alex scatters kisses all across your upper thighs. It was becoming increasingly harder for you to hold in your moans.

He then gives a kiss on your soaked panties, sighing at the sensation.

“Baby, you’re soaking wet. This all for me?” He asks. You were practically dripping.

“All yours, Al.” You respond.

He smirks as he pulls your panties down. You were wearing dark red lace panties, Alex’s favorite color.

“You’re so beautiful.” He says as he kisses your pussy. He then licks a long stripe along it, eliciting a moan you tried hiding with your hand. You almost completely forgot you were in public.

“Quiet, love.” He whispers.

Alex delves his tongue into your folds, collecting your juices. He repeats this a couple of times before he’s satisfied and moves up to your clit. His tongue swirls your clit, sending shocks throughout your body. Your hand is pressed so hard against your mouth, fingers white.

He slides one finger along your folds, spreading your wetness. He then presses his finger against your entrance, sliding right in. You moan despite your hand covering your mouth. Alex pulls off of you for a second to look up, mouth glistening. He gestures a finger over his lips, indicating you to be quiet. You nod in understanding.

“Good girl.” He says, giving his customary smirk. He goes back to work, placing kisses over your clit once again.

You can feel the coil in your abdomen swell with each lick and suck Alex makes. He then inserts another finger, bringing you even closer to the edge. His pace is fast, fingers curling to hit that sweet spot over and over. Your eyes are screwed shut, reveling in the pleasure.

You finally open your eyes to look down at Alex. You find his eyes already on you. He was watching you. With each and every action he did, he was watching you.

With that, the coil snaps, causing you to moan loudly. You don’t care if anyone hears you anymore. Your juices spill out of you, coating Alex’s mouth. He doesn’t move, continuing to abuse your pussy. He lets you ride out your high, better than ever.

Soon after, he gets up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He brings his fingers to your mouth, urging you to taste yourself. You comply, opening your mouth. Alex pushes his fingers into your mouth.

“Don’t you taste divine, love? Absolutely delicious.” You hum in response. “You were such a good girl, cumming on my face. Did so good.” Alex praises. You could live off of his praises alone.

He removes his fingers from your mouth with a wet pop, placing them in his mouth to taste you as well. He moans at the taste.

“Alex, I want to please you too.” You say. It isn’t fair that he gave you the best orgasm, but he got nothing in return. Unbuckling his pants, you spring his cock free. Alex moans at your touch, almost unable to control himself.

“No, love. This is about you.” You want to please him, no matter what.

“Please, Alex. I want to.” You drag your fingers along his cock, earning a groan from him.

“Ah..Fine. Let’s go.” You smile. He stuffs himself back into his pants and grabs your hand. Alex walks fast, making a beeline for his car.

Once you get there, he opens the door for you once again. He made sure you were buckled in and drove off towards your apartment.

You couldn’t wait; you were too impatient. You leaned over the center console and unbuckled his pants once again.

“Love, not now. I’m driving.” You don’t listen, continuing to take his cock back out. The effect you had on him drove him wild.

Continuing your torture, you lick a long stripe up his cock. His moans were so cute. You sink your mouth onto him, taking him in slowly. His groan was long and loud, enjoying your mouth on him.

You stayed like this, taking him in slowly. Alex couldn’t help it anymore and bucked his hips up, hitting the back of your throat.

“Ah..love,” He was always sensitive.

He grabs your hair softly, moving your head up and down. You were perfectly fine with this as he deserved it. With each thrust, he moaned. You felt his cock contract. He was close.

Before he could cum, Alex removed your mouth off of him. You looked at him confused. You wanted to make him cum.

“Not yet.” He wanted to make this moment last.

You soon arrived in front of your apartment. Alex parked the car quickly, eager to have some fun with you. He opens your door and you jump out quickly. He grabs your hand once again as you both run inside the building. You laugh, noticing how this is like a cliché straight out of a romance movie.

Once inside the apartment, Alex pushes you against the wall, pressing kisses all over your lips. You were delectable, he thought.

He kissed along your neck to get things going again. Alex didn’t want to hurt you.

You make your way to the bedroom. He pushes you onto the bed as he takes his shirt off. His body is magnificent; his slightly defined chest, toned arms, soft skin.

You pull your dress down, remaining in only your panties. Alex takes his pants off too, standing in just his boxers. He leans over to cage you between his arms. He stops moving, looking into your glittering, dilated eyes. They were beautiful. Just after, Alex leans in to give you a sweet, loving kiss. It wasn’t rough or needy. Just loving, as if he wanted it to last forever. You kiss him back, reciprocating the same sweetness. You could kiss him all day.

As he’s kissing you, Alex movies his fingers inside your panties. His long, veiny fingers slip inside your cunt. You’re still as wet as ever. As he does so, you still hide your moans with your hand.

However, you can now moan as loud as you want; Alex makes that very clear.

“Love, I want to hear you.” He says in a deep tone. He curls his fingers hard, provoking a loud and languid moan from your lips. You couldn’t help it.

“Alex,” your breathless after that. Your boyfriend sure knows how to make you feel good.

“Good girl.” He praises once again. He knew you were anything but bad.

Alex brought you so close to the edge. You were teetering off of it, until he retracted his fingers from your hole.

“No… baby, please,” You whine.

“It’s okay, love. Don’t worry.” He assures. Alex takes off his boxers and gives himself a couple of strokes. He lines himself up with you, but teases your entrance. You let out another whine, frustrated at his actions. He smirked, knowing you were becoming riled up. Just as you were about to speak, he plunged himself into you slowly. He was sure not to hurt you.

“Jesus, you’re so tight.” He breathes out. As he bottoms out, he stills, patiently waiting for you to adjust to him. Alex peppers kisses all across your face, neck, and chest, soothing the slight pain. It soon went away and he started to move slowly. He felt so good.

He steadily increased his pace, causing just enough friction for that familiar coil to build up again. Alex directly hit that sweet spot over and over again. You couldn’t help your moans; they were uncontrollable now.

His pace was now sloppy and fast, overwhelming you, but you don’t care. Alex’s breathing was erratic. He couldn’t contain himself either, it seems. You could feel his cock throb inside you. You were so close.

“Good girl. Such a good girl.” Alex whispers in your ear, his voice husky and deep.

And just like that his praise threw you over the edge. Your pussy tightened, squeezing Alex’s cock. He let out a sweet moan at the sensation, his cock twitching. His motions stop as you begin to feel even more full than you already are. Alex came inside you and it felt so good. Oh, what a feeling it was.

He laid on top of you without putting his entire weight. A kiss was placed on your hair gingerly, taking in what just happened. After about a minute, Alex rolled off of you with a groan, making you chuckle. His arm wrapped around you as you snuggled into him. His nose was above your head taking in your scent. You smelled like soft vanilla and cherries; he loved it.

“Alex?” You break the comfortable silence.

“Yes, love?” His voice was carrying a benevolent tone.

“Thank you for today. I really enjoyed it.” You were sincere. It may be hard to express your gratitude towards your boyfriend, but you tried. Alex understands your gratitude and warmly welcomes it.

“Of course, lovely. I’d do anything for you. You’d do the same right?” He asks sarcastically.

“Well…” You joke.

“Well that’s not fair!” He jokes back as he pretends to be shocked. Alex doesn’t expect you to do anything for him in return; he’s perfectly content with pleasing only you. (Of course, you always return the favor either way.) He enjoys doing things for you, no matter what the outcome is. As long as he’s standing next to you, then he’s alright.

“I love you.” He says sleepily.

“Love you too.” You respond.

You’ll forever be thankful to have Alex in your life. Alex believes the same thing. You two are just like food is to humans. You both need as well as want each other. That won’t change.

<><><>

what do you guys think??? i don’t really like it, so it’s ok to say it’s trash 😭 but ty for reading though🫶🏽

tags: @thenightslikeawhiirlwind @ismiledinthebakery

#alex turner #alex turner x you #alex turner fanfic #alex turner x reader #alex turner x y/n #fanfic #fluff #smut #alex turner smut #alex turner fluff #i love alex turner #alex turner is so cute #HE’S MY MAN #alex turner x reader smut #alex turner x reader fluff

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bangtansmauyeondan · 4 months

Text

THIRTY-FIVE | S04 E03 — A Thousand Times Over

Pairing: In-Studio Director!Jungkook x Stage Director!Fem Reader

Genre: rivals au, social media au, frenemies to lovers, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, crack.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: explicit language, mentions of abandonment, alcohol consumption, harmless scheming, dare, bet, smut

Summary: It has always been the battle of the best between you and your college rival, Jungkook. What happens when years later, you cross paths again working for the same network broadcasting company, and the competitive flame is rekindled? Well, a whole new drunken bet that determines your futures wasn’t in your line of vision but here you are… and you have until 35.

(A/N — Hello! Did you miss me? lol)

•••

You can’t believe it. Is this really happening? Are you really hosting dinner at home? You, who messed up something as simple as miyeokguk, are hosting dinner at home?

You don’t know where you got the guts from, but it’s definitely the result of another successful production, and Jungkook telling your close friends that dinner will be at yours over the weekend. By the time everyone has stopped cheering and exchanging high-fives, you have already agreed, smiling at them from ear to ear.

Jungkook helped you with the groceries the night before, and showed up at your doorstep bright and early this morning to get all the preparations done.

“Bun, it’s 7 am. Why are we doing this?” You whined while peeling a skinny piece of carrot, being careful not to peel your skin off in the process. You were sitting on a barstool, hunched over the kitchen island, only 80% awake. While your boyfriend moves around the kitchen confidently, mixing random spices and sauces for the marinade, and trimming the meat.

“We need to prepare everything now, so all the cooking will be easier later~” he answered in a singsong manner, turning around and busting out a move while humming to a song you don’t know. You can’t help but chuckle at what’s in front of you— your boyfriend in gray sweats and an oversized shirt, sleeves long enough that he was able to pull it down his hand and use it to handle a hot lid off the pot. He looks so soft and cozy, you almost want to leap off the stool and give him some cuddles.

“What are we making anyway?” You asked with curiosity, eyeing the vegetables and a piece of apple lined up in front of your “chopping line.”

“Suyuk and soondae gukbap. I need to start boiling the broth for the gukbap now, so it will be yummy tonight.” He nibbled on his bottom lip, doe eyes giving all the ingredients on the counter a once-over. “The rest— like the dakgalbi and samgyeopsal will be cooked over dinner, and everyone can participate.”

“Oooh. Is that something that a real chef would do?”

“I don’t know, I’m not one,” he grinned at you, nose all scrunching up as the grin turned into a giggle.

Two hours later, Jungkook has already marinated the chicken, dry-brined the slab of pork belly in the fridge, and got the bone broth simmering on the stove top. You, on the other hand, have organized all the chopped vegetables in ziploc bags, and tidied up the kitchen, making sure that everything is clean and ready to use for all the cooking later.

•••

The dinner party went well. Jungkook’s suyuk was a hit, to the point that he had to make another batch while everyone’s already crowding around the kitchen.

“Yah, Jungkook, you are insane!” Hoseok muttered between chewing. “This is so good, yah…” he gushed, picking his chopsticks back up and hugging another piece of pork with gat kimchi before stuffing his face with it.

“How did you make it?” Namjoon, also in awe of the taste, asked in curiosity. Deep down knowing that he won’t ever be able to even set foot in the kitchen to recreate it.

“I just followed the recipe!”

“Anyone up for some drinks?” Sohyun’s question worked everyone’s appetite even further up, and the food was demolished in no time.

“We should do this more often, it’s nice,” you told no one in particular. Yoongi agreed, topping up your glass. “Oh, thank you.”

“You did well, babe,” Jungkook slinked his arm around your shoulders and planted a kiss on your temple.

“I didn’t even cook!” You replied, flustered.

“Aye, you chopped all the vegetables. You did all the hard work,” Mingyu quipped. “Cooking is just putting it all together.

“You cleaned up too, YN. That’s crucial,” Hoseok added.

“Take the compliment, YN,” Namjoon snickered. “Remember when we went camping way back and I nicked my finger trying to peel a tiny potato? I am useless!”

Yoongi burst out laughing at the memory, “You had one job, dude. ONE JOB.”

The evening continued with more banter, stories, and laughter until Yoongi and Mingyu started a drinking game incorporated with a balance game. Two people will be asked to pick between two choices. If they match, they win. If they don’t, they take a shot. Hoseok and Sohyun have been winning back to back, so Yoongi decided to switch up the questions, zeroing in on you.

“I got a good one for you, YN…” Yoongi smirked.

“Okay…” You answered cautiously.

With a devilish grin and sharp eyes fleeting between you and Jungkook, Yoongi asked, “Would you rather kiss Jungkook for ten thousand won, or kiss a stranger for ten million won?”

Jungkook’s jaw dropped, “Yah, hyuuung…” Noticing your pause, he turned his head from Yoongi to you so fast, he could have had a whiplash, “Yah… is there something to think about?”

“Did the stranger brush his teeth?” You asked.

Jungkook gasped. “Why does it matter?” He asked you incredulously.

“Hmm… Let’s say, yes. He’s clean. Hygienic,” Yoongi nodded.

“Clean CLEAN? Like he goes to a dental hygienist clean?” You continued coaxing Yoongi for answers, completely ignoring Jungkook’s dagger eyes on the side of your face.

“Yeah, he regularly goes to the dentist and flosses three times a day,” Mingyu answered, almost toppling over his seat from laughing so hard at his bestfriend’s reaction.

“Shut the fuck up,” Jungkook picked up a piece of grape and threw it at Mingyu.

“Umm–”

You were cut off by Jungkook suddenly standing up from his seat to fish a crisp green banknote from his wallet and slamming it down on the table in front of you. “Baby, here’s ten thousand won, let’s go. Kiss me.” His facial expression, a mixture of amusement and drudgery.

The room erupted in laughter, with Hoseok literally falling on the floor and smacking Namjoon’s legs over and over trying to contain himself. “Aigoo, Jungkook-ah…”

“Can you give me ten million won?” You raised an eyebrow at your boyfriend.

“Can you give me one thousand kisses?” He challenged back.

“Yah, yah, yah…” Namjoon waved his hands at everyone. “Let’s skip this question, we don’t want to be the cause of your breakup!” He suggested playfully, still half-wheezing from laughing.

The game continued on, putting a different person on the spot, until everyone sobered up and have gotten ready to leave. Jungkook decided to stay the night, given it’s already almost midnight, and tomorrow is Sunday.

You were standing in the doorway of your house, waving Mingyu off when Jungkook nudged you on the side, “Check your phone.”

“Huh?” You leaned onto the doorframe, fishing your phone out of your pocket. Your eyes widen in surprise when you saw the notification, before staring back at a smugly smiling Jungkook. “What the fuck is this, Jeon?! Where did you get this? You’re crazy!”

“Oh, I’m Jeon again?” He snaked his arms around your waist and pulled you closer, pressing his forehead against yours. “Here and there. Work. Stocks.” His voice dangerously low and goosebump-inducing.

You instantly melted at your boyfriend’s touch, “Babe… You’re overre—“ Jungkook shut you up by capturing your bottom lip with his soft ones.

“One,” he whispered.

“Jungkook,” His name came out of your mouth in a breathy voice as your fingers curled on the collar of his jacket.

He pressed two more kisses on your lips, one after the other. “Three.”

“What…?”

Jungkook swiftly shifted your body away from the door, kicking it shut in the process, before lifting you over his shoulder and making you squeal.

“Let’s get you to bed. I’m cashing in the remaining nine hundred ninety-seven.”

•••

BONUS — The notification:

#bangtansmauyeondan #bts imagines #35!jungkook #35!jk #jungkook fan fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook angst

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ellieluvr420 · 3 months

Text

We meet again, darling pt.9 (detective Abby Anderson x criminal reader)

Synopsis: Abby Anderson is a skilled detective that's never let a criminal escape her grasp, until you. You've infiltrated every part of her life and she still can't get you. As she grows more and more intrigued by you she finds herself descending further into darkness until there's no way back. She takes your hand and follows you as if your presence is the only thing giving her life knowing that you are the most dangerous thing for her. Her life will never be hers again and she will stop at nothing to keep following you down your path of corruption.

SMUT, mdni please xox

After you had kicked Abby out Saturday morning, she spent basically her whole weekend in bed. She had been so anxious about Ellie, you, her job, everything, she felt sick to her stomach. It was Sunday evening when you knocked on her door.

"So you do know how to knock?"

"I knew you were in and I didn't want to reveal how I get in when you aren't."

"Right."

"You going to help me out and let me in or leave me standing out here all night?" You were holding Abby's suit which you had had dry cleaned, some takeout and your bag, you were sure you had about 2 minutes before everything crashed to the floor.

"Sorry." She opens the door and grabs the suit and takeout from you before stepping aside to let you in. She kicks the door shut behind you and puts the suit down to lock the door. "You brought food?"

"Yeah I figured you might want a taste of the outside world since I've had you cooped up for the weekend. If you're good I might take you on a walk later." She can't see your face but she knows you're smiling to yourself.

"You're hilarious. Food smells good though, thank you."

"It's okay." You sit down on her couch and wait for her to join you with the food. As you're waiting you look around the room. The walls were a bright off white colour and there was a warm light lamp with a simple grey shade standing in the corner next to the tv on the opposite wall to where the couch sits. She had a black wooden coffee table in front of the couch with a grey rug that matched the lamp. The couch was comfortable, squishy and black with grey accent cushions. You expected the monotone colour scheme from her really but you did notice the plants and decorations that added colour to the room. Her apartment was nice, clean and homey, you felt comfortable there.

"You judging my interior design?"

"The opposite actually, I had never really noticed it but your apartments very nice."

"Oh, thanks." You nod and start ripping open the takeout bag and laying all the food on the table. You waste no time in digging in as between all of the things you've had to do over the weekend you haven't had a chance to eat a proper meal since your dinner with Abby.

"Holy fuck this is good." Abby sighs and leans back as she continues eating.

"Mhmm" You agree through a mouth full of food. She chuckles at you and you laugh with her but you decide now is the time to address the elephant in the room.

"I'm sorry for blowing up at you like that yesterday."

"It's okay, really."

"No please let me finish, I planned my speech and everything." Abby nods her head, signalling you to continue. "I panicked. I'm used to hiccups, that's life. But I'm not used to hiccups involving the cops and it scared me. Regardless, accidents happen and I know you weren't being careless, I forget that not everyone is used to how careful you have to be with these things so I hold everyone to my standard and that isn't fair on you. So I'm sorry. Forgive me?"

Abby stays quiet for some time, pretending to contemplate whether she should until she smiles and pulls you into a bone-crushing hug. "You know for a second there you actually seemed human."

"Don't insult me." Your words came out muffled as she is still firmly holding you to her chest. You slap her shoulder as you start struggling to breathe. She laughs and lets you go. "But Abby, this cannot happen again. I dealt with the problem this time but it might not be so easy to fix next time. I mean I don't even know for sure if the problems fixed. Depends how smart your little friend is."

"Williams? What do you mean?"

"I paid her a visit."

"Andddd?"

"I didn't hurt her. Just threatened everyone that she loves and paid her for her silence."

"Oh my god."

"What?! It had to be done."

"So she knows about all of this?" She points a finger between you two.

"Errr not exactly. She knows we're... associates and that you're working for me but she doesn't know what we're doing, although I'm sure it won't take her long to figure it out when we start mission take over." Abby rolls her eyes at the use of the name and then raises an eyebrow.

"I work for you? I thought we were partners."

"I don't have partners, Abby. But if I did you'd be pretty close."

"Gee, thanks."

"That was a compliment darling."

"Your compliments don't often sound like compliments." She leans into you, looking you up and down and stopping to stare at your lips.

"I can only be so nice." You lean in further, tucking a piece of hair behind Abby's ear as your other hand threads its way through her soft, blonde waves, tugging a little. Abby presses her lips to yours in a sweet kiss that soon turns hungry and rough as she slips her tongue in your mouth to dance with yours. She tugs on the top of your thigh to pull you down as she climbs on top of you while pressing a strong thigh to your core. You close your legs around it and immediately start grinding down into it. Tonight is nothing like Friday night, its rushed and filled with need instead of want. You're both consuming each other as all the pent up emotions are released through your touches.

"Fuck this. I need more room for what I'm about to do to you." Abby's voice is low and raspy, it leaves you so entranced you don't feel her strong arms wrapping around your waist and under your bum as she hoists you up to carry you to her bed. As she reaches the foot of her bed, she throws you down with enough force that you bounce a little. "Strip."

"Make me." She had turned her attention away from you but the look she gave you as she whipped her head around was enough to make you comply. She chuckled at your reaction and said over her shoulder. "Good girl." You roll your eyes knowing she can't see and continue stripping. As you sit on the bed waiting for her you watch her strip her clothes off painfully slowly still facing away from you. You take a second to admire the firm curve of her muscley ass and thighs as you see her fitting a harness around her hips. You gulp knowing what's to come and lick your lips at the sight of her back profile and the way each muscle contracts and relaxes with each movement. She turns and your mouth falls open at the sight of the red appendage strapped to her hips.

"Don't worry, it's new, saw the colour and thought of you."

"How sweet." Your face is deadpan but in a weird way your heart swells at her words. "I don't think that thing is going to fit inside of me. That is a monster dick."

"Oh I'll make it fit. On your knees, hands behind your back and face the back wall." You whimper a little at her words but move quickly to listen to her. You hear a metallic clanking and before you have time to react you feel handcuffs being attached to your wrists.

"Woah Abby."

"Tell me you want me to stop." You huff and stay silent. "That's what I thought." She runs her hands down your back and squeezes each cheek hard enough to leave a bruise then one hands laces itself into your hair and starts pushing you forward while the other presses on your upper back to arch you as much as possible. "You are unreal." Your face is being pushed into her pillows and she knows that, so she doesn't expect a reply. You hear the sound of her spitting into her hand and your crane your neck inwards to see her lubing up the strap on. "I know you don't need this, you're already dripping but I thought I'd be nice. Don't get used to it though." She lands one harsh slap to your pussy and laughs as you jolt and moan and with a faux, sweet, sympathetic tone she says "You tell me if you need to stop okay?" She was mocking you but you knew she meant it as you made eye contact.

At the feel of her slowly easing the dick into you, you moan and push back onto her "Oh fuck," you've never felt this full before, it makes you feel like the airs been knocked out of you. As she bottoms out, you sigh and she lets you get used to the size for a minute. You're shocked as it doesn't match her previous demeanour but when she pulls out and starts drilling you into the bed you understand why she did that. You bury your face into the pillow to stop yourself from screaming but she doesn't like that at all. She pulls you up by your hair and then wraps an arm around your neck and grabs and squeezes your boob with the other. She's kissing your neck, your shoulder blades, anywhere she can and then she leans her head on your shoulder and bites down, hard. You gasp at the feeling of her licking the wound. She grabs your face with the hand that had been squeezing your boob and brings you in for a desperate kiss. You can taste your blood on her tongue and you groan into her mouth. You can barely breathe from all the ecstasy you're feeling but you manage to rasp out: "You're just as fucked up and insane as me, doll, you can't deny it," she growls at your statement and grabs at your chin with the hand of the arm that had been round your neck, you gasp only to feel her middle and ring finger being shoved into your mouth so hard you gag.

You whine and cry around her fingers as you feel yourself getting close. You lean your head back on her shoulder and she plants small kisses on your cheek and temple. "You close love?" You nod as your eyes fall shut until you feel her other hand that's unoccupied snaking down to rub tight fast circles on your clit. You screamed around her fingers as tears fell down your cheeks and you came so hard you thought you died for a second. She keeps pumping in and out of you slowing down to a stop. She lowers you gently down to the bed and kisses a line down your back. "I'm gonna pull out." She pulls out quickly get gently and discards of the strap. You feel her weight shift as she grabs the keys for the handcuffs and undoes them . She rubs each wrist gently and leans down to press a kiss to both afterwards. She lays down next to you and brushes your hair out of your face and laughs as she sees your giddy smile and tired eyes. "You okay?"

"Mhm all good."

"You gotta get up and pee."

"No." You slam your face down into the bed and take no notice of Abby standing up until you feel her large hands grabbing your hips and lifting you up. "No, no, no." You claw at the bed but it's no use. She plops you on your feet and keeps her hands on your hips

"Come on, you know I'm doing you a favour." You huff and walk off to the ensuite as she goes to the kitchen to get some water for you both. When you walk in she's already laying in bed and you climb on top of her and entangle your legs with hers. You lay a hand on her chest without a word.

"Do I want to know what happened to your hand?"

Your eyes are closed and you look asleep but you reply quietly and bluntly. "I killed Luke."

"Oh."

"It had to be done."

"Yeah I know. Was it hard?"

"No. He screamed and cried like a little bitch but I expected nothing less. It doesn't make it harder for me, it does Johnny, but not me. I like it when they fight."

Abby strokes your hair and realises she didn't even have a reaction to what you just said. She didn't care, she didn't feel sorry for Luke, she didn't feel scared of you. She only cared that you were back in her arms. You both fell asleep together and for the first night since Dan she didn't have any nightmares. She slept soundly holding the monster she should be having nightmares about.

#abby anderson x fem!reader #abby the last of us #abby x reader #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson x you smut #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson tlou #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader

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disappointmentofthefam · 26 days

Text

Love? Love. (part 7)

Andy Barber x Reader

warnings- smut, blowjob , daddy kink, fluff

................................................................................................................

read previous part here:

The warm glow of the sun through the huge windows in Andy's bedroom cause y/n to stir awake.

Andy's bedroom.

She suddenly became more aware of the heavy weight resting on her waist, holding her closely from behind.

Andy's arm.

Careful not to wake him, she turned her body around to face him, seeing him sleep like a baby.

Andy's snores.

Any girl would foolishly fall in love with the sight y/n was enjoying. But a smart girl like her doesn't fall in love, no.

Girls like her walk into love, with their eyes wide open, holding the hand of the man they choose.

Is this what this is? Is this finally the treacherous path of the infamous L-word?

Is this love? She thinks to herself.

Andy pulls her closer, their naked chests now pressed up against each other under the silky (and probably expensive) sheets.

"You'll squish me to death, you big old man!"

"Oh sweetheart," Andy smiles, "i agree with the 'big' part but calling me old is just mean." He kisses her hair, "Didn't this 'old man' make you cum on his face last night."

y/n blushes at his crude words and playfully pushes herself away from him just enough to roll her eyes at him.

Andy enjoys the way her breath hitches and her cheeks turn pink.

"Tell me angel, who was it screaming last night? 'OH OH RIGHT THERE FUCK DON'T STOP-"

She hits his chest and hides her face back into his chest,

"you're so mean," she pouts.

Andy's expression turns soft as he lifts her face and strokes her hair, gently threading his fingers, wanting to savor the feeling blooming in a place in his heart, which he never knew existed.

Love? Is this Love?

He kisses the pout off of her face,

"You are a pretty girl, y/n, but you look like a miracle in the morning."

He closes his eyes and hugs her to his chest once again, "I could get used to this."

"I'm not sure about this Mr. Barber, you snore a lot," She teases him, which earns her a smack on her ass.

Andy holds the back of her neck and brings her mouth to his, kissing her. He alternates between small licks and bites on her lips.

The two of them spend the morning tangled with each other, taking each other's hands and walking down the path of the sweet and savory, the intricate yet simple 'L-word'.

...........................................................................................................................

Hours later, y/n is sat on Andy's lap, facing him but not being able to look into his eyes. Not when he wasn't wearing a shirt!

Damn you, Andrew! Why do you have to be so hot and half naked!

He is all but amused at the sight before him, his girl, being all cute and flustered, "What's the matter, sweetheart? What's gotten your smart little mouth so quiet?"

"Uhh....um...it's hard to look at you...."

Andy's mouth opens in feign shock, "Are you calling me ugly?"

"NO!....No, you're.... you're absolutely delicious looking." She stammers. "But.....i can't look at you for too long."

"Why, angel?" He lifts her chin to force her eyes onto his.

"Because.... I .....I.. haven't felt this way before....."

"I promise, angel, I feel it too...",He takes her hand and kisses it ever so delicately before placing it on his chest, right where his heart is under, "right here."

This unspoken yet loud confession gives y/n some confidence and she rakes her nails down his firm chest.

Feeling Andy shudder under her actions, she moves with a newfound boldness as her lips reach for his neck and leave wet, open mouthed kisses.

"Y/n, baby," He pants, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "My resolve is hanging by a thread.....if only you knew how i plan to ruin my innocent little angel."

"Then do it." Y/n starts rocking her hips against his growing hard-on.

"I don't want to rush you." His hands stop y/n's hips as a serious expression crosses his face.

y/n bites his ear lobe as she whispers, "I'm starting to think that you're all words no play.....maybe i'd be better off with a 'limpy and lacking frat bo-AAH!

The feeling of Andy's fingers punishingly pinching her nipples makes her yelp.

"Say that again, I fucking dare you," Andy growls and takes her his shirt off of her and sucks a hardened nipple into his mouth.

"You....AH......You're all words Mr. Barber." She manages to croak out in-between moans.

Andy gives her nipple an unforgiving nip with his teeth as his hand harshly twists the other one.

He lets go of her with a loud and lewd pop.

"You want me to play with you, sweetheart?" He holds the back of her neck, "Alright then, we'll start by putting that dumb little mouth of your to work."

Before y/n's hazy mind can register Andy's words, he manhandles her into a kneeling position on the floor, her face being in level with his impossibly rock-hard cock.

He spreads his thighs and darkly chuckles at the dumbfounded expression on y/n's face, "Go on baby, take daddy's cock out."

All the boldness from earlier leaves y/n's body as she shifts on her knees on the hard floor and her eyes try to hide from Andy's intense gaze.

Noticing her discomfort, Andy picks up a cushion and throws it onto the floor beside y/n.

"Here, darlin', put it under your knees."

Ever the gentleman, Mr. Barber, ever the gentleman.

As y/n settles once again, Andy taps her face with his hands, "Come on baby, don't get all shy on me now."

Taking a deep breath, y/n pulls the band of his sweats down along with his underwear.

She gulps at the size of his cock. It's long and thick.

Andy groans as her soft hand wraps around him.

"Andy......" y/n shyly looks upto him.

"It's daddy right now." Andy speaks in an authoritative tone, "You'll call me daddy while we play. Understand?"

"Yes"

"Yes what?"

"Yes daddy."

The hold Andy has on y/n has her positively dripping with need.

"Daddy......um", her voice is sweet, a stark contrast to the dirty position she was in, "i have never done this before."

"Really sweetheart?" The fact that y/n is completely untouched gets Andy off in a taboo manner, not that he would ever admit.

"Mhm....can you teach me how to do it?" she blinks up at him innocently.

That fucking look.

The way she looked at him sweetly while stroking his cock slowly was definitely going to kill him.

His sweet angel, being a filthy slut, just for him.

Andy cups her face and leans down to kiss her lips, "I'll teach you how, but you promise to tell me to stop if you don't feel comfortable."

"I promise, daddy."

"Good girl," He hold her hair into a makeshift ponytail as he guides her mouth towards his aching cock.

She parts her lips and slowly sucks on the head on his cock.

Andy closes his eyes and throws his head back in pleasure,"You're doing so good, baby, so so good," He pushes her mouth to take more of his length,"You can take it, angel, just breath through it."

As y/n takes as much of his cock in her mouth as she can, her mouth drools and her eyeline is laced with tears.

Andy bucks his hips forward, causing her to choke and sputter around him.

He pulls out of her mouth, leaning down to place a kiss on her lips.

The tenderness of his actions are contrasting, choking her on his dick for a moment and kissing her tears away the next.

Y/n looks up at him with hooded and lustful eyes, "I want it again, daddy."

Andy almost comes alone at her words.

Fuck Andrew! Stopstopstopstop! don't cum yet like a teenager having his first blowjob

He once again pushes himself into her mouth.

This time, y/n hollows her cheeks and sets a steady pace of licking, sucking and occasionally moaning around his dick.

The blubbering and squelching sounds of y/n pleasuring her man echo around the room.

Andy holds her head once again, taking control of her movements.

"Take it sweetheart..." he shoves his cock deeper into her throat making her gag, "breath through your nose.....there you go... good girl."

"You like it when daddy fucks your disrespectful little mouth, don't you."

y/n can only moan around him in response which makes Andy increase the pace.

"Gonna cum in your mouth, angel. You're gonna be a good girl and swallow for me. Understand?"

A few more pumps later, Andy cums into her mouth.

Perfection.

He marvels at the sight of his filthy angel, with cum dribbling out of her mouth while she tries to swallow as much as she can.

Her tits on display as she kneels before him and takes it all like a good girl.

His good girl.

Andy pulls her up on the couch and holds her panting body close, whispering sweet praises into her ears and kissing her tenderly.

y/n's lips curve into a mischievous smile, "So....daddy huh?"

He shakes his head as he chuckles, "Yes angel, dirty little girls like you need a daddy."

"Well, fitting title for your age-"

OH THIS BRATTY SHE-DEVIL

.......................................................................................................

Author's note-sorry for not updating, my grandfather died and i'm fine but it was hectic for a while.

Also feel free to leave suggestions in my inbox!

#andy barber x reader #andy barber smut #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #ari levinson x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #lloyd hansen smut #lloyd hansen x reader #chris evans #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x y/n #andy barber #steve rogers x reader

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imagine-a-life-like-this · 1 year

Text

Step 6 : Focus On Yourself (Y.JI)

Word Count : 4.6k

Warnings : swearing, suggestive, body worship, hand kink (I have a problem okay?), sex (no smut), alcoholism, clubbing, fwb, heartbreak, failing grades, period mention, bullies, eating disorder mention, mention of beating people up, food mention, hospital, this one has a lot of angst, like this one hurts, i cried writing it, a lot of tears were shed, happy ending though

A/N : This one is slightly different than the others, and deals with a triggering topic (alcoholism). It is a minor plot point and I only wrote it with my personal experience with alcoholism but I know everyone's is different. It is not violent alcoholism, it is emotional alcoholism. As in drinking to forget, drinking to feel happy. If that is triggering for you, please do not read this story. Thank you.

She peered over to the guy sleeping next to her, double checking that he was in fact asleep, before sneaking out of his bed, redressing herself as quickly and quietly as possible, and leaving his place. The entire walk back to her place she wonders why she seems to fall back into his bed every single time. A simple plea, a pout, a pet name falling from his lips, and she’s putty in his hands.

God his hands. The sinful things his hands have done to her, the sinful things she thinks of them doing to her all the time. His long, slender fingers ghosting over her body, leaving goosebumps in their path, before delving between her thighs, causing sinful sounds to fall from her lips, sounds he covers with his own mouth, kissing her quiet.

Last night he had only invited her over for a movie, that’s what they both agreed on. It wasn’t even halfway through when his hand gripped her thigh, inching higher and higher. She tried to clench her thighs, stop his hands from feeling how badly she wanted him. But there was no use. He knew. Let me make you feel good, baby girl. Growled softly in her ear, and she was a goner.

She’s not even sure when this happened. When the line was crossed. When they stopped being just best friends and became something a little more but a little less than lovers. And she wonders when she began to hope for the final line to be crossed. When they’ll get out of this limbo and she can call him hers.

He keeps promising her soon. But soon has come and gone many times over. She tries to leave the limbo, go back to being friends, but he pouts at her, whispers to her that he loves her so much, and she’s back in his arms, under his spell. You’ll be mine soon, I promise puppy. And he kisses her so sweet, smiles at her so lovingly. And she believes him.

She just wants to wake up in his arms, traces the features of his face as the sun breaks through the blinds, watch as his eyes flutter open. Wants him to kiss the tips of her fingers as she traces over his lips, grab her hand, press a kiss to her palm, pull her close, and press a final kiss to her lips. She just want him to love her the way she loves him. Wants him to love her the way he promises he does.

And if he can’t love her, she wants him to let her go.

“He doesn’t love you.”

“Damn Keeho. Tell her how you really feel.” Theo chuckled, punching Keeho in the arm before turning back to Y/n. “Don’t listen to Keeho.”

“Hey!”

“Shut up. As I was saying. We’re all young and confused and trying to figure things out. Maybe he really does love you and is just trying to figure that out.”

“Okay cool great. Can he stop pulling me along and making promises he doesn’t mean? I never wanted my feelings to complicate our friendship or become a burden on him. He can reject me and I can move on, it’s not that deep. I’m just done with the hot and cold.”

“Fuck someone else.” Keeho said nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders as he continued to eat his lunch. Theo and Y/n stared at him like he had two heads, but Keeho didn’t seem to notice.

But it got her thinking. Maybe it wasn’t the worst idea. Maybe she could distance herself, focus on herself and her needs instead of his. She didn’t have to pick up the phone every time he called, didn’t have to open the door every time he knocked. She didn’t have to give into him every time his hands started feeling her up, going under her clothes, ran over her bare skin.

But fuck did she want to.

What would he do if she didn’t sneak out during the night? What would he do if he woke up to her face? If she gave into her needs, cuddled deeper into his arms, and allowed herself to fall more in love with him, would he be there to catch her, or would he watch her hit the ground and walk away laughing?

She really meant to let the phone ring. She stared at his name, his contact picture staring right back at her, a mirror selfie he took on her phone, his hands practically covering her entire phone. And she thought of the things his hands can do to her. The sounds they make her make. The moans, the screams. And her legs were clenched as she reached over to answer before it could go to voicemail. “I miss my baby.” It’s like she could hear his pout. Her heart melted, and she gave in quicker than she’d like to admit. Knocking at his door in five minutes, kissing him the second he opened it.

Keeho told her to fuck someone else, but Jeongin was the only one she wanted. He was the only one who knew what she liked. She would let him break her heart a million times if she could have him like this. Hovering over her, looking at her like she was a goddess, kissing every inch of her skin. “Beautiful.” He whispered.

Something felt different this time. It was slower, like they had all the time in the world. He took his time, looked in her eyes with every compliment, letting her know he meant every word. He worshipped her. He loved her.

“I’m letting you go.” He told her as they laid beside each other as they came down from their highs. “Find someone that can love you the way you deserve.” He had just spent the last hour staring at her, but now he refuses to look at her. “I hope one day you’ll forgive me and we can be friends again.”

She swallowed her sobs down. Blinked back her tears. “You’ll always be my best friend, Innie.” And one last time she got dressed and left his place. Cried all the way home. Sobbed until her throat ached. Drowned in her own tears. But she would do it all over again just to have him look at her like he did one last time.

He had worshipped her. Loved her. Just to say goodbye.

Their friendship went from meeting on the playground, to birthday parties, to graduation, to university, to frat parties, to sex, to awkward waves when they pass each other. It’s like they were going backwards. Like they were re-meeting each other. Like they were strangers that knew a little too much about each other.

All their favourite movies, foods, memories. Things they like to do on rainy days. He could write a novel about her and she could write one about him. But they were acting as if they barely knew each other.

Jeongin didn’t want to let her go. But he knew it was time. He loved her. God did he ever love her. He loved her so much he couldn’t control himself around her. Always wants to kiss her, feel her, touch her, love her. But he couldn’t be with her.

Jeongin was on the verge of failing out of the university. And he knows she would never judge him for that. She would support him no matter what, help him get into a new university, help him get a job, whatever it took. She was good for that, she always was. But he had a dream. A dream for the two of them. And that dream needed a degree.

He thought if he had her close enough but not all of her, he wouldn’t be distracted, but he still couldn’t get enough. Needed to have her all the time. She was all he could think about. During all his exams, it was only her. All the lectures, her. His notes were filled with doodles of her. His entire life revolved around her. Everything was about her.

And he wanted to ask her to wait. Beg her, plead for her to just wait for graduation and he would give her everything she could want. A house. A ring. All the love she gave him all these years and more. But it was embarrassing. He didn’t want her to know. Didn’t want her to pity him. Didn’t want her to offer to help him because he didn’t want to have to admit she was the reason he couldn’t focus.

Was it love or obsession? Does it really matter anymore? She’s not his. He’ll always have the memories. Her body beneath him. Her lips around him. Her moaning his name. He just wishes he marked her up their final night. So he could see her walk around with the marks he gave her, looking so pretty with the purple showing through the concealer she’d use to try and cover them. God he loves her so much.

The first week was the hardest. Waiting for a text or a call, begging, pleading, for her to come over. She tossed and turned, scared of missing the sound of her ringtone signaling him calling. Her grades slipped during the first week, everything slipped. It was like she was losing control and she didn’t know how to get a hold of anything.

The only calm she felt was when Jeongin would smile and wave at her when he’d see her. It let her know that he still knew her, still remembered her. She wasn’t just some stranger to him. A stranger he whispered I love you to before falling asleep. A stranger he tossed aside after breaking every single promise he made in the same bed.

By the second week, she was able to put on a front that she was okay. Smiling when Keeho and Theo argued with each other. Stopping them when it got too far. Writing notes down in her classes as if she was actually retaining any of the information. Conversing with some classmates about projects that were due, projects she had completely forgotten about. No one knew she was breaking inside.

She still tossed and turned at night, waiting for a sign that he was still just a little bit hers. I’m letting you go. Find someone that can love you the way you deserve. His words echo in her head. Over and over like a sick taunt. And she cries herself to sleep for the twelfth night in a row.

By the third week she was practically a shell of a person. Barely able to continue on without Jeongin by her side. Keeho and Theo have tried to drag her out during the weekends, but she stays curled up on her couch, rewatching sad movies so she had another reason to cry besides mourning a relationship that never happened.

She wishes she would have listened to Keeho. Wishes she cut Jeongin off sooner. Stopped falling into his bed, stopped breaking her own heart just to keep his whole. But that’s what you do when you’re in love with someone, right?

Who cares how broken you are when the person you love is whole?

“This wallowing in self pity shit needs to stop. Go take a shower and put on something sexy. You’re coming out with us tonight. No ifs, ands, or buts.” Keeho stole the remote from her hand, shutting the movie off before she could even protest or ask how he got into her apartment. He ripped the blanket off her lap, pulled her off the couch, and pushed her towards the bathroom.

As she took her time in the shower, hoping her two friends would get tired of waiting and leave without her, Theo and Keeho decided to tidy up her apartment. Folding the blanket and putting it back where it belonged. Washing the dishes and putting them away. Keeho even went the extra mile and went around her small apartment, grabbing the things he knows Jeongin gave her, and hid them away where she couldn’t see them. Out of sight, out of mind.

As much as she didn’t want to leave the comfort of her apartment, she did have to admit that the alcohol in her system did feel nice. The heartbreak started to lessen. Almost as if it didn’t exist in the first place. The more she drank, the better she felt, and she wondered why she didn’t think of it sooner. Alcohol was the key to fixing her broken heart.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing here all alone?” The guy standing in front of her was tall and devilishly handsome. The kind of guy that draws you in before you knew what was happening. Dark hair, dark eyes, a sinister smile. He was bad news, but that’s what was so attractive about him.

“She’s not alone.” Her heart stopped at the familiar voice. Tears immediately welled up in her eyes. And when the stranger walked away, she pushed him away, not even bothering to spare him a glance. She hoped he’d follow her. Grab her wrist, fight for her to stay. Tell her he fucked up, that he was in love with her. But he let her walk away. Not even a call of her name.

She walked right into Keeho’s open arms, begging him to take her home. She just wanted to curl into her bed and disappear. Keeho looked forward, seeing Jeongin watching her from where he was standing, a sad look in his eyes. He knew Y/n wasn’t the only one hurting, but she was the only one he cared about. Jeongin made his choice, he has to live with it.

It was the fourth week that things seemed to turn around. She was smiling again. Laughing at the jokes her friends made. Turned in all the projects she forgot about. It was like she was back to the Y/n everyone knew and loved. But there was one difference.

She reeked of alcohol.

Every single time she finds herself thinking of Jeongin and her heart starts hurting, she takes a drink. It helps numb the pain, helps her feel happy again. That’s what everyone wanted. It’s what everyone kept begging for. They wanted happy Y/n back. Wanted to see her smile and laugh again. She was just giving them what they asked for.

No one said anything. It was a phase, they all said. It would pass. Just like heartbreak passes, this too will pass.

But it didn’t. It got worse. Graduation was just around the corner, and she was still drinking everyday. She was still crying herself to sleep, staring at her phone, waiting for him to call her. Why won’t he just call her once? Can’t he see that she’s a mess without him?

Find someone that can love you the way you deserve. She doesn’t want someone else. She had years to find someone else. But it always came back to Jeongin. Came back to his empty promises that he broke. But she didn’t care. Because it was Jeongin.

Yang Jeongin who was there when she first got her period and she leaked through her pants. He gave her his sweater to wrap around her waist and called his mom for help immediately, holding her in his arms, soothing her sobs.

Yang Jeongin who was there when she got a failing grade and helped her study for the next test. He didn’t scold her, tease her, or even shove his passing grade in her face. He spent extra time studying with her after sitting with her, holding her hand, as her parents yelled at her.

Yang Jeongin who beat up all her bullies when they were kids, despite it getting him in trouble every single time. He told her he would do it again and again if it meant she would smile again, because her smile was the most precious thing in the world.

Yang Jeongin who refused to let her starve herself throughout their entire friendship, telling her those diet fads were ridiculous. She looks perfect the way she was, no matter her weight. He would always find her more beautiful than any model.

Yang Jeongin who introduced her to his new friends with the biggest smile on his face, an arm wrapped around her, telling them she was the most important person in his life. She was his other half, she completed him.

Why would she want anyone else when Jeongin already loves her more than she deserves? She doesn’t care that things got lost in translation, some boundaries were crossed before they were ready. She would wait for him. Right here, in the darkness, their memories surrounding her. She would wait no matter how long it took.

There was a blinding light in her face the next time she opened her eyes, mumbled voices just out of earshot so she couldn’t hear what they were saying. But her eyes were fixated on one thing, one person sat right next to her, hand in hers, head on the bed, eyes closed, breathing slow as he slept. She could see the remnants of the tears he cried, the puffiness around his eyes, the pout still on his face. But all she could think about was how he came back for her.

It didn’t click until the doctor walked in that she was in the hospital, brought here by ambulance after she hadn’t answered any of Keeho’s calls. “Your friend put up quite the fight.” The doctor chuckled. “Good thing too. If not for him, you would have died.”

Death is such a weird concept. It used to scare her when she was younger. She was so careful about everything. Never living life on the edge, taking every precaution necessary. But hearing that she was minutes away from death made her feel nothing. No fear, no sadness. The only thing she could feel was Jeongin’s grip tightening around her hand at the mention of her dying. He didn’t meet her eyes, kept his gaze locked on their hands, clearly trying not to cry again.

“Once this bag of fluids is empty, you’ll be free to go home.” The doctor gave her one last smile before leaving the room, leaving her alone with Jeongin. It was silent. It was so unlike them. She was used to one of them filling up the silence with a random story, or him kissing her because he missed her so much. But so many things have changed since they’ve last been alone. They aren’t the same people they were all those months ago.

“What happened?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Secretly, he knew the answer. He received quite the earful from both Keeho and Theo when he insisted to be the one to sit with her until she woke up. How he ruined their friend, turned her into a shell of a person who could barely function without alcohol.

“I just wanted to be happy again.”

“You scared the shit out of me, you know.” Of course she didn’t know. How could she know how he was feeling when he avoided her as best he could. Heard all the rumors of the girl crumbling in front of everyone’s eyes. He wanted to run to her, hold her in his arms, run his fingers through her hair. But he thought she was just dealing with things her own way. Focusing on herself the way he was focusing on himself. Working on moving on the way he told her to.

But she still held the exact same amount of love in her eyes as the last day he held her. Still looked at him like he was the only thing she’ll ever want. “I missed you.” She whispered. Jeongin reached up, wiping away the tear that began to slip down her cheek.

Her skin was dry, and a little cold to the touch. His hand was warm against her cheek, and he continued to rub his thumb across her cheek, looking at her with a softness she’s never seen before. “I missed you more than you know, darling.” The pet name rolled off his tongue, and when it hit her ears, she smiled. Maybe he was still hers in the way she was still his.

“We’ll talk after graduation, I promise. Just focus on yourself right now. Stay sober for me though, please.” Jeongin helped her into her own bed, Theo and Keeho both watching with trained eyes from the doorway.

“You can’t stay for just tonight?” She wrapped her hand around his wrist, and he looked up at the two watching them as if they were her parents. Their arms were crossed across their chests, eyebrows raised as they waited for his answer. “I won’t bother you again until after graduation. Just one night.”

And just like always, he gave into her. He always would. Even if she asked for the world, he would find a way to get it for her. The love he has for her overwhelms him, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Because it’s her. And if it’s her, he’ll do anything.

They went back to only seeing each other in passing, nothing more than a smile and a wave. But it was different this time. Because now he would text her, check in on her. He should have done it this way from the start, but he didn’t think of it then. He thought letting her go completely was the only way.

But now he can watch as she checks her phone, giggle at whatever he sent her, and look towards him with the same beautiful smile as always. The light has returned to her eyes. She was still healing, still struggling from her bout with alcoholism, but Jeongin could see that she was doing better.

No matter what, whether she was diving off the deep end, hitting rock bottom, or flying sky high on cloud 9, she would always be his Y/n. He knows that for sure, looking at her as she walks off to her next class. He could tell it was a harder day for her, but she was still the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. He still only had eyes for her, even if there were millions of eyes on him.

Graduation grew nearer, and the only thing that kept her going was knowing that she would have her Innie back. She wasn’t sure in what capacity, whether she could kiss him and love him with her whole heart, or if they would be just friends. But she didn’t care as long as he was in her life.

Theo and Keeho have taken turns staying with her just to make sure she doesn’t turn to drinking again. And she’s grateful, because the longer she goes without drinking, the more the thought of drinking herself into oblivion again scares her.

She thinks back to waking up in the hospital room, the look on Jeongin’s face as he slept beside her. The way Theo and Keeho threw their arms around her in the waiting room once she had emerged from her room to go home. The tear filled conversations they’ve had since, talking about the what ifs and the what could have beens. And she doesn’t want to be her anymore.

It’s hard at first, especially during the lonely nights when her guest is already sleeping and she’s left staring at the ceiling wondering what Jeongin is doing. Is he alone? She stares at his open contact, debating texting him, but part of her doesn’t want to know the answer. What if he’s not alone? She would rather pretend that he’s thinking of her like she’s thinking of him and save herself the possible heartbreak.

But if she were ever brave enough to send the message, she would know that he was up looking through pictures of the two of them on his phone, reminiscing about the past. Writing down date ideas in his notes, places to take her when he has the chance.

She would know there’s no need to worry what he’s doing because everything leads back to her anyway. And as soon as graduation is over, he’s running to her, pulling her into his arms, and telling her just how much he loves her, how everything is for her, and then kissing her with everything he is. So she’ll never doubt his love for her again.

“She doesn’t actually think he’ll show up, does she?” A group of girls giggles as they walk out of the café. It was graduation day. She worked her ass off the last month to bring her grades back up so she could still graduate, and then as soon as she had her degree, she left for the café Jeongin agreed to meet her at.

He had approached her with a bouquet of flowers at graduation with a smile on his face, girls surrounding him hoping the flowers were for them, but his eyes were trained on Y/n. And he told her he’d meet her at their café after graduation was over. He promised, and though he was known to break his promises in the past, she decided to trust him one last time.

So she waited. Every time the bell dinged, she looked at who walked in, hoping it would be Jeongin, that he wouldn’t break yet another promise. But as the minutes passed, her heart was slowly breaking again. She was spiraling, hands shaking, eyes watering. Why does she let him break her heart over and over again?

One hour. It’s been one hour she’s sat here, scrolling through her phone, looking at the door, listening to the giggling girls make fun of her. She’s not sure why she’s still waiting, holding out hope that he would still show, but she didn’t move. Almost like she was glued to her seat, like something was holding her down, stopping her from leaving.

The time kept ticking, her drink was left untouched on the table, the messages she had with Jeongin were open on her phone. She was waiting for a text, a call, anything. He wasn’t going to show, she knew that, but he could at least text her, tell her why she wasn’t good enough for him. Tell her why he kept giving her false hope.

The flowers were taunting her on the table, and she almost looked up the meaning of each and every flower in the bouquet. But before she could, the door was slamming open, a man running in, rushing to her table completely out of breath. “You waited.”

It took a second for her to register that Jeongin was standing in front of her, still panting, smiling at her. But when she realized that he came, she smiled. “I’d wait forever for you.”

He reached for her hand, taking it in his, sliding a ring onto her finger, and then showing her the matching one on his finger. “I had to go pick these up, that’s why I took so long.” He laced their fingers together. “But I’ll never make you wait for me again.”

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heliads · 1 year

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Hi! I was wondering if you would mind writing a Bucky Barnes x Fem!reader where the reader is Bucky's soulmate and she knows that but Bucky doesn't then one day the reader becomes injured and then Bucky sees whatever soulmate mark you decide on. Thank you!

it's been too long since the last soulmate au

masterlist

Bucky Barnes is staring at a blank on his S.H.I.E.L.D. file and wondering how in the hell he’s supposed to fill it in. It is not the only one of such imposing empty lines, obviously, the sheer quantity of things that Bucky may or may not have done in his life that he has no idea about could probably fill another twelve dossiers or so, but this one in particular is enough to fill him with significant trepidation.

For once, this specific box to check likely marks empty spots on the files of many other S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, those both ex-brainwashed Russian killers and not. It’s a box that even civilians can go their whole lives without ever seeing filled. Usually, you hope that you’ll be able to find your soulmate before you take your last breath on this world but, well, no one’s ever lucky one hundred percent of the time. Someone always has to be the loser, the kid who gets picked last for schoolyard games, the guy who can’t manage to find his meant to be before it’s too late.

Somewhere inside, Bucky harbors a fear that the guy might be him. After all, what are the odds that he’d get to find his soulmate after the weird life he’s led? For all he knows, he left his soulmate behind in the 40s. Maybe they were supposed to meet him after he came back from fighting in the war and their paths never crossed once Bucky fell from that train. The visual makes his heart ache, picturing some woman growing old by herself all because he couldn’t manage to come back from that mission.

In fact, his soulmate could have been born during any time over the last hundred years or so. Bucky has been put into and come out of the ice over so many years that it would be impossible to map out any decade when he should have found his soulmate but just didn’t. In truth, he half wonders if he even has a soulmate at all. Were it not for the mark, he’s fairly sure he’d be able to talk himself out of thinking it was possible. After all of the horrible things Bucky has done, why should he deserve someone like a soulmate?

Yet the mark remains. Everyone has one, even if they haven’t managed to track down their soulmate yet. The idea is simple enough, although heaven knows it’s been analyzed so many times by self called scholars that everyone has a different take on it. Most people can agree on the bare minimum, though. Your soulmate’s biggest regret is written in their handwriting on your chest, right above the heart like an arrow between the ribs.

If you can use that scrap of information to find them, great. Bucky’s heard thousands of stories over the years of couples locating each other through the smallest of hints, the biggest of coincidences. His parents both regretted a train they never took and met one night wandering the city alone, wondering about the places they should have been.

When his mother died when Bucky was just a kid, his dad’s mark changed to something about not treasuring the little moments. Bucky thought that’s what his would be when his father died a few years later, but he’s committed enough atrocities now to wash out such a commonplace regret.

It’s strange to think about what mark would be on his soulmate’s body now, if she’s still alive and not a corpse buried in time by now. What would it possibly say? Bucky has enough regrets to fill a thousand caskets, and he seems to be working towards that with every new job he takes. Bucky hurts and tortures and kills. It is the only thing he has known for quite some time. If he had any regret, it would be that someone has kept him alive for so long that he could have accomplished all these grievous tasks.

All these twists of fate have still led him to the same place, though, sitting in the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters and staring at his file. One of the agents in charge of handling the Avengers has handed over the manila dossier in the hopes of coaxing some more information out of him. Instead, it’s sent Bucky spiraling on a tangent of what he deserves in this life. Does he really get a soulmate after everything he’s done? Or should he damn himself to solitude in some desperate plea for penance?

All this might have changed were it not for the fact that Bucky does have a mark, and judging by the looks of it, his soulmate might be just as much of a mystery as him. It’s deceptively simple, this phrase inked onto his skin, and written in such a plain script that it could belong to thousands of people. There’s no way he’d be able to stick it to any specific person unless they told him outright. No, there will be no personal secrets here, not from his soulmate.

The tattoo above Bucky’s heart says this and this alone: opening the door. It could mean a thousand different things, and over the years, Bucky has had plenty of time to ponder them. Does his soulmate blame herself for something she did, for letting someone in? His latest theory was that she welcomed a killer into her house, although of course that could just be Bucky’s years of combat experience making up violence out of nothing. Maybe it was just the cause of a bad breakup. Odds are, his soulmate has a normal regret because she’s a normal person who doesn’t deserve all of the bloody baggage that goes along with James Buchanan Barnes.

A sound from across the room makes him startle.

“Are you done staring at your file, or can I take you out of here?”

Bucky looks up and breaks into a smile. His questioner is another agent, but this time a friend, not an inquisitor. He’s known Y/N L/N since he started working with the Avengers, and they’ve been close ever since. She understands exactly what it’s like to never know who to trust. They both have secrets they’d rather hide, and that means they’ll be closer than anyone else here.

Y/N started off as an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., yes, but she almost didn’t turn out that way. The agent who first recruited her ended up being HYDRA. After Y/N graduated from S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy, that superior officer gave her a spot on his team. She trusted him more than anything, which is why she didn’t question him at first when he started giving her secret missions, trips out to clandestine locations that never went in the official reports.

When the HYDRA reveal first came about, Y/N was stunned. It turns out her recruiting officer had been using her to fulfill his schemes for years. All this time, she thought she was furthering S.H.I.E.L.D.’s agenda, but instead she was being sent to kill people who started suspecting HYDRA moles. It’s been haunting her ever since for obvious reasons. Sometimes Bucky wonders if she ever wishes she never joined S.H.I.E.L.D. in the first place just to avoid all the blood that’s now stained her hands.

That makes two of them with long lists of regrets, however. It also means he’ll always give Y/N far more of his attention than anything else. That’s what you do for your closest friend, he supposes. You find someone who fits with you and never let them go.

“I would be happy to finish up here,” Bucky answers her at last.

Y/N arches a brow. “You sure? You seemed to be in a pretty serious staring contest with that piece of paper.”

Bucky chuckles. “I was told to write down any new information so you could have a more complete file on me. Turns out I don’t like thinking about the fact that I still have no idea who my soulmate is.”

For some reason, Y/N’s face locks slightly. It’s the same sort of look she gets when she’s biting back a truth, keeping some part of herself hidden back. She always wears it when he talks about soulmates. Bucky once heard that she’s afraid of finding her soulmate because she’s terrified that he’ll betray her just like that superior officer did, and although that was nothing but a rumor, it makes sense.

In response, Bucky doesn’t bring up soulmates around Y/N. She seems grateful for it, and they keep it like that: easy conversation, nothing more. It wouldn’t do to alienate the best thing Bucky has going for him at the moment over some discussion he could probably do without.

He stands up from the table, casting his dossier down on the surface without another thought. “Anyway, it’s not that important. What job do we have now?”

“You always assume I’m here for a mission,” Y/N chides, “what, I can’t just visit my friend because I feel like it?”

When Bucky remains judgmentally silent, she sighs and gives in. “Yeah, there’s a mission. Don’t give me that look. Basically, Fury sent in an agent to retrieve some data and the whole thing went south. What was supposed to be an abandoned HYDRA facility turned out to be very much not abandoned, and now he needs an extraction team before he gets someone killed.”

Bucky nods. “When do we take off?”

“A few hours,” Y/N replies, “why, do you have plans?”

“I’ll have to push off my melancholy musing for another day, but that’s probably for the best,” Bucky answers casually.

Y/N laughs. “As much fun as that sounds, your musing will have to wait. We have lives to save, Bucky. Let’s get going.”

Bucky watches her as they walk through the twisting halls of the S.H.I.E.L.D. complex. He’s heard people, both agents and Avengers alike, joke that the two of them should be soulmates from sheer similarity alone. They both have the same sort of personality and sense of humor. Factor in the fact that they’re both professional murderers and you’ve got the same person. If there was ever any two people that were just meant to be, it would be Bucky and Y/N. So the stories go, anyway.

In truth, Bucky isn’t sure that he would mind it. Sometimes when he’s had a couple too few hours of sleep and his mind is wandering unchecked, he pictures that sort of life. They could get a place together, some house or apartment that even S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn’t know about. He can imagine coming back from a hard day to find her waiting for him. They’d both be exhausted, but it would be enough to stay there with her and fight back the storm for another day.

It is not to be, of course. Y/N has her own life and Bucky is not a part of it outside of their friendship. That’s alright, though. Bucky can convince himself that it is alright. As long as he has her easy laughter, he can do anything. So he tells himself, at least. Still, when their own extraction mission goes south and Bucky starts worrying that he won’t even have that, his tenuous grip on his emotions starts to unravel.

Out of desire to protect the already failing mission status, Fury hadn’t told them a whole lot about what they’d be walking into. In all honesty, Bucky isn’t sure that even Fury knows what’s going on in there. The agent stopped responding to pings about an hour ago. All Bucky and Y/N have to do is either help the agent get out or go retrieve a corpse.

Still, it would have been nice to have at least a little more information, perhaps about the number of people who’d be firing at them. Bucky and Y/N are huddled under some cover right now, although judging by the sheer quantity of bullets currently streaking towards them, it won’t last forever.

Y/N breathes out harshly, whipping out from around the corner of their protective overhang to fire a few shots at their attackers before hurrying back to safety. “This is only going to hold for a few more minutes. We need to move.”

“Fury said his agent was holed up in a warehouse,” Bucky recalls, “there’s one just across the clearing. If we can make it across, we can get the agent and get out.”

“Easy as that?” Y/N says, one eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, easy,” Bucky replies, starting to grin, “what, that doesn’t sound so simple to you?”

Y/N laughs once. “Oh, it’s going to be a piece of cake. Come on, let’s sprint over before we get shot to bits.”

Bucky gives them a count to three and then they take off running. He provides as much cover fire as he can while they hurl themselves towards the door of the warehouse, but it’s not like his efforts do a whole lot. The HYDRA agents in the area have been converging on their location for some time now, and the firefight is going to happen regardless.

Through some dumb luck, Bucky manages to make it to the door of the warehouse unscathed. He blows through the lock with a bullet and kicks it open. Bucky falls across the threshold, pulling Y/N through and slamming the door shut behind him. He almost thinks that they were able to make the trip without getting shot when he looks over and sees Y/N clutching a hand over her collarbone.

Instantly, his heart drops. Mission forgotten, Bucky rushes over to her.

“What is it?” He asks, terrified, “What happened?”

Despite her obvious pain, Y/N spares Bucky the time for a sarcastic look. “I got shot, what else?”

Bucky grimaces. “Yeah, I can see that. Let me get a look at it, I need to make sure you’re not going to die on me.”

“It would ruin the charming atmosphere of this place, wouldn’t it?” Y/N quips, but moves her hands aside and lets Bucky drift closer anyway.

There’s a lot of blood, that much is obvious, but when Bucky tries to look closer Y/N steps away again.

“I’ll be fine,” she says, hand already drifting up to cover the wound again.

Bucky shakes his head. “Clearly you won’t. You’re losing blood too quickly. Come on, let me bandage it. You can’t finish the mission in this state and you know it.”

Y/N looks like she wants to run. “I’ll be fine,” she repeats.

“Do you really trust me so little that you’d rather bleed out than accept my help?” Bucky breathes.

Y/N stares at him a second longer, then sighs and looks away. “Fine. Just don’t–”

She cuts herself off, leaving Bucky wondering what on earth she’s talking about. He doesn’t have much time for questioning, however, as every moment that he wastes is one in which Y/N loses even more precious blood than before.

He moves quickly, grabbing bandages from a kit in his bag and rushing towards her.The neck of her shirt tears easily, and Bucky is able to patch her up as best he can. He’s about to make some stupid comment about how that wasn’t so hard when he sees it.

Y/N’s soulmate mark is just visible with the blood cleaned away from it. Even without reading the words, Bucky would recognize the handwriting in an instant. He’s always wondered what it would be like, if you could really know your own script if you saw it inked into someone’s skin, but now Bucky can answer that question definitively. Somehow, Bucky knows it in his gut. That’s his writing, and that’s his regret spelled out into Y/N’s skin.

I will never know if I have stopped being the Winter Soldier.

It could never be anyone but him. He wonders what that would have been like, to be born with that sentence on your body, to go about your life with the name of a killer inscribed in your own flesh. Y/N has been marked for death from the very moment she was alive, all because she had the misfortune of being tied to him.

All of a sudden, everything makes sense. Y/N’s regret, the one written over his own heart. Opening the door. She opened the door from her old life to let in that superior agent who turned her into a killer, didn’t she? Bucky should have seen it coming. His gaze slowly raises to meet Y/N’s, who looks at him wearily.

Bucky breathes out slowly. “You’ve known all this time, haven’t you?”

Of course she had. How could she not? Y/N would have learned about the Winter Soldier the second he started showing his face again. She has always known the truth, and she has never told him.

Y/N tenses. “You weren’t ready to know. I wasn’t ready to tell you. You had to figure out who you wanted to be before you started thinking about trying to make a soulmate happy. I didn’t think I deserved to mess up someone else’s life after all the mistakes I’ve made.”

Bucky nods slowly. “Would you have told me eventually?”

“I hope,” Y/N whispers.

She seems to expect him to get mad, but for some reason Bucky just understands. Their entire lives have been bad choices, one after another. Telling him that she was his soulmate would have been a consequence so massive it would impact them for the rest of their lives. It is no surprise that she would have held back.

“I’m just happy to have you now,” Bucky tells her. “Truly, I am. I just want you. Regardless of when we started, we get to finish like this. It all ends the same.”

Y/N’s eyes shine. “You mean it?”

“Of course I do,” Bucky assures her, “I always will. We might want to discuss this after the mission, though.”

Y/N laughs, a true laugh. He hasn’t heard such relieved joy from her in some time, and it delights him like nothing else. “I think that sounds good to me.”

It’s good to him, too. It’s all good.

marvel tag list: @thatfangirl42, @rogueanschel, @mycosmicparadise, @ellobruv, @caswinchester2000, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @amortensie, @23victoria, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @gods-fools-heroes, @w1shes43

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softtdaisy · 5 months

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🌲 a walk in the past l Charles Leclerc

summary. this Christmas market has been your favorite for years. today, it's just a reminder of what you lost. of who you lost.

words count. 1,895

a/n. this is the story that inspired the whole angsty Christmas series. it's massively inspired by Cindy Lou who (please listen to Sabrina's ep). it's sad. it's Charles. I hope you will love it 🫶

a very angsty Christmas l masterlist

“You really didn’t have to do this.”

Ever since you were a child, you used to go to the Christmas market every year. It wasn’t even to buy a present. Just the pleasure of walking around this stall, hearing Christmas songs and seeing the pleasure on everyone’s face when they won a game, sharing a sweet and seasonal meal or just this magic thing that seems to make all the people here happy. It was one of your favorite moments of the year and you couldn’t miss it.

Even if this year, you were close to skip it.

“If you think I would have let you alone in your apartment instead of enjoying your favorite time of the year, you were barking up the wrong tree.” your best friend replied, putting her arm around your shoulder to bring you closer.

You laughed at her gesture and appreciated this feeling of being loved. And not alone.

Something you sadly lacked these past months.

The reason you almost didn’t come this year was simple. It was Charles.

When you started dating three years ago, the Formula One season was coming to an end. You had met through mutual friends in Monaco and he always managed to see you when he came back home, sometimes even skipping time with his family for you -something you were arguing with him for.

Once he was finally free, this Christmas market was one of your first official dates as a couple. You were living a literal teenage dream, walking hand in hand with him, showing him all the places you had memories with -meaning almost everything. You let him buy your favorite sweet and a scarf that you never left after that.

And you did that every year. It was always the first date you had after the season ended. The first time you could act like a normal couple again. And even if Charles met some fans there, very few thanks to the beanie and the scarf hiding him, it still felt intimate.

One night, after you drank too much wine and were watching the fireworks, Charles told you that at least he knew where he could propose to you.

It has become your place.

Until he left.

Now it was only yours, alone.

Everything reminded you of him now. The stall with all the puppies where you were talking about adopting one and even thought about the name. The big pine tree where you added your own decoration together, like the tradition says. The photomaton where he kissed you and the picture that was still somewhere in your apartment because you couldn’t get rid of it. Or just every couple, being happy like you used to. You hated feeling jealous about these poor people who didn’t ask for anything but to spend a moment together.

It was hard to walk on the path of your biggest heartbreak.

“How about a hot chocolate?” Your friend asked you. Well pulled you because she didn’t really wait for your answer before walking to the stall. You didn’t mind. It wasn’t like you felt like making any decision anyway. You apologized to the little girl that collided with your legs and followed your best friend until you had to wait because there were too many people.

You looked around and noticed the stall with handmade Christmas decorations. You always bought something there, like your own tradition. “Do you mind if I go there while you wait?” your best friend agreed and you walked there with stars in your eyes.

Not thinking for a single second that going there would wreck your heart into millions pieces.

“Oh, miss little red beanie.” The seller laughed when he saw you, remembering the little girl you were before with your favorite red beanie, until you grew and it became too small for you. You started to look around the decorations, already noticing some new ones that you loved.

Until you heard a laugh. A very distinct laugh that you could have recognized everywhere. You still turned around to make sure you didn’t dream.

Oh how you wished you did.

Because there he was. Still looking as beautiful as before. With his outgrown brown hair hiding in his black beanie, a scarf you used to steal when you couldn’t find yours, eyes so shiny because of the cold and a red nose that you loved to tease him about. No doubt. Charles was there.

And he wasn’t alone.

You weren’t sure you wanted to look at her. To see who she was. How she could be better than you. Why did he choose her over you? Knowing would be hard. Ignoring it wouldn’t be that much better.

But before you could ever decide what you wanted, Charles turned his head. He felt a look on him.

No he had the same feeling he used to have when you were together. There was something different with you. Something magnetic that would always let him know that you were there, looking at him, even if he couldn’t see you. And it was back.

Your eyes met. And suddenly, your heart was breaking again.

You couldn’t handle the idea of being around him with his new girl. So you did the first thing that came to your mind: running away.

The perks of knowing this market by heart, you knew exactly where you had to go to avoid people and be at peace.

The con was that Charles knew it too.

“Please wait!” you heard him in your back. What a wonderful idea to have an athlete as an ex, especially one you’re trying to run away from.

You ended up stopping, not able to go anywhere else without turning around and meeting Charles. With nothing else to lose, you accepted your fate. The terrible fate that you feared these past weeks.

You really wondered if you would see Charles now that the season was over and he was around. Were there any chances that you would run into each other in such a big city? You thought you wouldn’t. You really thought you would be lucky enough to avoid this confrontation.

Apparently the universe wasn’t a fan of this narrative.

“I had no idea you would be here, I wouldn’t come otherwise.”

You laughed. How dare he? You had no idea what you hated the most. The fact he really thought you wouldn’t be there this year because of him. Or that he used this sweet and comprehensive tone like he was really sorry for you. If he was, then he wouldn’t have broken your heart out of a stupid boredom.

“Oh I’m sorry Charles” you said, turning around to finally face him “Do I bother you by being here, at my favorite place, the one I come to every year, the one I showed you because I wanted to live that moment?”

“That’s not what I meant.” he sighed, putting a hand on his neck and biting his lips.

You used to love this tic. There were always some moments in your relationship when you had a hard time distinguishing Charles the driver from Charles your boyfriend. Sure, it was the same person in the end. But the media and his PR team were creating a whole entire character around him, one that wasn’t entirely faithful to the real Charles you knew.

And then there were moments like this where he wasn’t that overly confident driver that couldn't do no wrong. He was the man that you love, scared of saying the wrong thing, conscious that everything could come to an end one day.

“So what?” you added, taking a step closer to him. It was a dangerous limit, because at any moment, the feeling of being that close would make all your feelings come back. From hate to love there was indeed one step, one you better not take if you didn’t want to come home with a heart even more broken. “If you knew I was there you wouldn’t have brought your new doll?”

You saw the change in his eyes when you said that. And oh how you hated seeing this look on his face. Because you knew it too, there was not one thing you didn’t know about him. And this one hurted, again. It was the exact same look Charles used to give when someone talked badly about you.

Suddenly, you weren’t the one being protected. You were the one he had to protect his new girl from.

“You’re being mean.” he added, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes.

“I am mean?” your voice broke at that last word. “You fucking brought her here Charles! It was our place! It is my safe place and now you ruined it! Again!” this time you couldn’t resist and hit his chest with your fist. “Why do you have to ruin everything in my life?”

It wasn’t a real question. Or at least, you didn’t expect any real answer. What could he say? Because he wanted to? Because if you can’t be happy together, you shouldn’t try to be now that you are no longer a thing? Or maybe the worst one: he just didn’t think this through. It would mean you were never important enough for him to think about the consequences.

There was no world in which Charles truly thought about you when he broke up with you at the beginning of the year. When you thought everything was alright, when you were looking for an apartment together, when you had that stupid conversation about having a family one day. He dropped it. The “I’m not sure I can’t do this anymore.” Just like that.

Did he really think about you when he couldn’t give a simple explanation as to why he couldn’t do you anymore?

A single tear fell from your eye and Charles watched it run slowly on your cheek. “I just wanted to apologize.” he whispered, taking your hand between his. But you immediately dropped it.

“That would have been a first.”

You both stayed silent for a few seconds before you started to walk back to the market. This time, Charles didn’t try to stop you. It was worthless and he knew that. You wouldn’t stop. You had enough. And even he knew that it would be unkind to try again.

You whipped the tear right before you met your best friend, standing in the middle of the road looking for you. You grabbed a chocolate cup and kissed her cheek to thank her. “Where were you?” she asked, more concerned that you thought she would be. How long did you disappear for her to have the time to buy these drinks?

You turned around and saw Charles coming back too. You watched as he grabbed her hand and gave it a kiss with a big smile. Yes. Something he used to do with you too. “Such a gentleman” you used to say when he did that. But now you weren’t the one getting your hand kissed.

“No way…” you heard your best friend say when she saw them. “This can’t be true right?” she asked you. And you wished you could reassure her.

But the truth was there. Charles broke your heart at the beginning of the year.

And he broke what was left at the end of it.

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