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#they love each other so much. i’m in tears
mysticworks · 3 days
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One day too late ~ LN4 x Reader
Lando x Pregnant! Reader; Coworker! Reader; Very Angsty; mentions of intimacy but nothing explicit; Borderline Forbidden love; Reader & Lando are friends with feelings
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S Y N O P S I S:
Carried away at the party, you and Lando share a beautiful night. Lando, worried about the implications on his career, urges you to pretend it never happened, ignoring your feelings for each other...until 6 weeks later you find out you're carrying his child. Word count: 1.5k
[ Drop a comment to be tagged in part 2 ]
A beam of sun in your eyes pulled you out of your slumber.
Sore. Head pounding. A deep ache in your lower stomach.  
It took you a few seconds to realise that this wasn't your room. The unfamiliar sheets, the duvet much thicker and heavier. There seemed to be so much room across the mattress, stretching out in its emptiness. 
Then every memory from last night came tumbling through. 
After a launch party of the new 2024 season, you’d found yourself a little too lost in the celebrations, Lando right beside you in fits of giggles and dances. 
You'd always had feelings for Lando, ever since you joined the PR team during his rookie days - the working time together bonding into a quickly growing friendship. Yet something had always stopped you from taking it further.
And so when Lando placed his hands on your waist last night, his face inches away from yours before your lips finally collided - every rational thought was thrown out the window. 
The heat of the party. The excitement and psychedelic blood rush. Climbing into Lando’s car. Your legs, entangled. His whisper of sudden hot, breathless confession. Your heart pounding in reciprocated emotions. Your hands in his curl, his... 
You shot up in bed, last night now a vivid image.
Lando was sitting across the room, on his computer, headphones flung around his neck. His eyes flick away from the computer screen at your sudden movement, coming to rest on you, and he draws in a long breath.
You felt the air leave your lungs. How did he manage to look so gorgeous even in the mornings? 
“How are you feeling?” You blinked at his break of silence, words not quite making it out of your mouth. 
“Yeah, I’m…” Raking your fingers through your curtain of bangs in an attempt to collect your thoughts, “I’m fine.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got the pounding headache too.” Lando shrugged, sighing, before powering down the screen and in a swift motion making his way across the room, over to you. 
Awkwardness suddenly overcame you and you did everything to avert your gaze from his. 
This proved pointless as he sat himself in front of you, the mattress dipping under his weight. You could feel the warmth radiate off his body, his finger coming to rest under your chin as he forced your eyes to meet.
“Are you okay?” There was a sadness in Lando’s eyes, one that didn’t quite match the gentleness of his voice. You mumbled a reply, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks - his face was so close - forcing your heart to respond with a quickened beat.
“Listen, I’m sorry for last night.” Your brows found themselves furrowing at his words.
“Sorry?” 
“We shouldn’t have…” He raked his curls, shutting his eyes tight for a brief moment, as if pained to say the words. 
His voice was quieter when he spoke again, “We shouldn’t have done what we did y/n.”
You felt something stab at your chest. “I don’t understand, Lando, I like you, you like me, we’ve known each other for years…what’s…what’s the - ” 
He didn't give you a chance to finish. “I can’t risk having…I just can’t risk a relationship right now. We can’t - ”
He pauses, gaze softening as you feel your eyes well up, but you’re determined to keep a stoic expression on your face.   
It didn't help that Lando was looking at you with such an intense look in his eye, his hand cupping your cheek before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 
“Are you saying we can't date?”
You felt your voice betray you, a single tear spilling down your cheek. Lando used his thumb to wipe it away, taking in a shaky breath. 
He looked away. “Please. I’m sorry.” His eyes were almost telling you to stay, now also welled with redness, but his words said differently. 
You felt the world collapse. Your breath hitched. A tremor shot through your limbs as you scrambled out from Lando’s bed. He got up too from his seat, standing limply in the centre of his room.
It was then you realised you were in his clothes, his loose tee reaching your knees, a pair of his joggers clumsily worn over your legs. You paid no heed, now eager to just leave. To run away and hide. 
Never had rejection been so cold. It was almost like he’d used you. A part of you wanted to scream at him, throw things and ask him “why,” yet you felt as if life had been sucked out of you. 
One of the best days of your life had been merely hours ago, before turning into a nightmare. 
“Y/n…” You’d only just reached the door, but his call made you stop in your tracks. There was a shameless hope he’d changed his mind. 
“Here. It’s cold out.” 
He held out one of his hoodies, passing it to you in a gesture to take it. 
You did. Curt and refusing to meet his gaze, before turning around stiffly.
And without another word, you left his apartment, refusing to look back.
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You weren’t sure when you got home, drenched from the rain that came gushing down along the way. 
You weren’t sure of much…only that your relationship with Lando was over. 
Over before it had even begun.
Climbing out of bed the next day was the worst feeling. With no energy in your limbs, you called in sick to work, refusing to face anyone at the McLaren office, but more importantly, avoiding Lando. 
You stayed in bed, too exhausted from crying to move. 
It wasn’t until a week later that you finally showed up at work. The pain seemed to have subdued; now replaced with forever changing moods. At times you were down in the dumps, exhausted and tired - your head slightly foggy - other times, irritable and angry. Yet you ploughed on at work, ignoring the sleepless nights and restless evenings. 
Avoiding Lando at work was near impossible, and yet you managed. Only speaking to him when absolutely unavoidable through email, or putting on your best corporate voice. 
Eye contact was avoided altogether, even when he craned his head to catch your gaze, you turned away. 
That was a satisfaction you refused to give him.
At 2 weeks it seemed the restless nights had been replaced with exhausted ones, a full night's sleep still leaving you fatigued and nauseous in the mornings. You blamed the sickness on heartbreak. 
Lando watched you more often now, sitting in the lobby of your office during lunch breaks. You turned down the blinds and shut him out.
-------------------
The realisation came, 6 weeks post heartbreak. A quick glance at your calendar told you you’d missed your cycle. The nausea, tiredness, mood swings all made sense now - each jigsaw piece coming together to fit the puzzle. 
Although the fear of raising a baby alone rose in your throat, you were determined to do it. You knew Lando had a right to know. Yet somewhere, deep down in your heart, you refused to give him that.
Perhaps you were running away.
Perhaps this was your revenge.
Your resignation made sure he’d never know. 
L A N D O 'S P O V:
They say you don’t know the value of something until it’s gone. I've learnt this truth the hard way.
I’ve watched her everyday since that night; desperately trying to catch her eye at work; take her aside and apologise. Tell her we can make this happen... start over, uncaring of the world and it's concerns.
I've watched her everyday, slowly starting to shrivel. The bags under her eyes, the tiredness in her smile. I’ve watched her at lunch, nibbling at almost nothing at her plate before silently excusing herself away. 
It devastates me to know that this pain is from me. I have caused it and she didn't deserve it. How I wish I could tell her that I was wrong. I was so, so wrong. 
I miss her smile. Her company; once a comfort. I miss having her by my side; encouraging; so full of energy.
And so this is my chance. My chance to finally set things right.
Clutching the bouquet - glitter roses I spent the last night making - I head over to the PR query desk, determined to start again, if she can give me the chance. 
There’s a new member of staff at the desk; someone I’ve never seen before and he tilts his head up at me, hearing my approach, flashing me a smile. 
He thinks I’m here for a project meeting and begins to rise from his seat, holding up a clipboard as if ready to pass it over. 
“I’m looking for y/n, l/n.” A moment passes.
Legs jittering. Heart tight and constricted; there’s a sense of urgency swelling in me as if telling me to hurry, rushing me to make things right. My fingers tap at the desk, impatient. 
He gives a sigh, furrowing his brows and lowering the clipboard back into place. 
“I'm afraid she's not here. She gave in her resignation yesterday.”
The words hit me like a boulder to the chest.
My legs feel heavy, a tornado whirling in the pit of my stomach. My fingers unclench from the bouquet and with a soft thud, the flowers thud to the ground; petals ripping apart from impact.
They've crumbled. Glitter littering the floor.
It was over.
I was one day too late.
Taglist: @hc-dutch @racinggirl @aileeincomplexity @kravitzwhore @eringaitskill @adoreyou-ido @landoslutmeout @queenofmanydreams
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luveline · 3 days
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i would absolutely love a Hotch and stripper reader, him taking care of her after some kind of incident at her club or something? maybe a bit of angry hotch at the beginning, some angst? 💗💗💗
Your throat burns by the time his car pulls up. 
You take the butt of the cigarette from between your lips and ash it next to the first. Your hand is sore between the index finger and thumb from a bad stretch, aching as you press into your pocket for your stolen box of Marlboro golds. You’ll apologise for taking them some other time. 
You press the third between your lips and flick the lighter. You’re not good at lighting them, worse at the first inhale, your throat an agony that rivals the sting of your battered cheek. 
Shoes on the sidewalk, a scratch of loose gravel. Your eyes well with another line of tears that you work hard to hold in, taking another quick, cruel drag. They don’t make cigarettes long enough, in your opinion. They don’t last. 
He stops in front of you. Quiet, Agent Hotchner looks down at you where you’re sitting on the low wall, expression as steely as ever. You meet his eyes, worried your wobbly lip is giving you away, not sure calling him was the right thing to do after all. 
When he raises his hand to the cigarette you let him take it. His fingers wrap carefully around the butt of it, the side of his thumb brushing your lips. 
He flicks it to the ground and steps on it flat. 
You don’t say hello. It’s obvious you’ll cry, he can tell too, and he doesn’t make you. You wince as he raises his hand again, your eyes squinting closed, but he isn’t going to hurt you. His palm is warm where it cups your cheek, turning your face to the light emanating off of the club neons. 
“Do you know his name?” he asks. 
“No.” 
He raises your chin higher still. His frown turns to a glare, the brunt of which is directed elsewhere but intimidating all the same. His touching is gentle at least. 
“What happened?” 
“I told him no.” 
His jaw ticks. “Can I take you home?” 
You sniffle, turning your face out of his hand and down to your lap. He’s kissed you, he’s done more than that, but he knows you’d felt like you had no choice and so he’s giving it to you now. It’s exactly why you’d called him. It’s the man he is, and he should never have ended up looking after you. 
“Sorry I called you,” you say, hiding your face in one hand. Pain flickers behind your eyes as tears mount for the tenth time tonight. 
Hotch gives a sigh, sitting on the wall beside you. He wraps his arm behind your back and with a familiarity you need desperately. You press yourself into his side, sew your arm hesitantly over his stomach, the starch of a pressed shirt crisp on your clammy skin. 
“It’s cold out here,” he murmurs, bringing both hands to your arm, one to hold you tight, the other to rub your cool skin. 
“I think I want to quit.” 
He nods into the side of your head. “I think you should,” he says, “if that’s what you want… honey, you can do whatever you want.” 
“I don’t think I can. I’m trapped and it’s my fault.” 
“It’s not your fault.” He encourages your head under his, your face to his neck. When he talks, it’s a quiet, lulling promise. “You’re not trapped. I’ll do anything you need me to do. If you want an apartment, I’ll get it for you. If you want to shut this place down, I will. The last thing either of us want is for you to work here when you don’t want to.” 
“You don’t have to say work here like I’m not a glorified prostitute,” you say hotly, anger turned in rather than out. 
“You don’t really think that.”
Being a sex worker is complicated. You don’t know how you feel about it, and you can’t ever understand why Hotch would bother with you. You’d worried at first that your vulnerability is what attracted him, like a kid with a broken bird, but he’s proved a hundred times that your job is pretty much separate from why he likes you. He thinks you're pretty. He loves your voice. You make each other laugh, and somehow inexplicably he’s the first person you call when things go wrong. 
“Quit your job,” he says. “Even if it’s just to dance somewhere else.” 
“You can say strip.”
He nods. “You shouldn’t have to worry whether your ‘no’ will be met with a backhand. You know that breaks my heart?” 
You blink and pull away from him. He isn’t unemotional, but it’s a surprise nonetheless to hear him talk like this. “Aaron–” 
“Please,” he says. “I shouldn’t ask you to. But there are better places for you. You deserve more.” 
If it were anyone else you might get defensive. Only people who do your job could understand why you do it, it’s a hundred different things to you, but you do deserve more. You’re sick of leery men, sick of wolf whistles and bad tips and other people's hands. Hotch has never asked you to stop, but now he is, it’s to keep you safe. 
You can’t begrudge him. 
“I’m sorry,” you say. 
“No.” He rubs your arm. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. And I’ll make it right.” 
“It’s not your fault.” 
“I’ll make it right,” he promises. “No matter what. No one gets to hurt you.” 
You could quit. You want to. Even if it’s just for a couple of weeks, just so you don’t have to pretend you know what you’re doing. You’ll think about it in the morning. “Could I stay with you for a bit?” you whisper. “Just tonight. Please.” 
Hotch taps your back for you to stand. He stands with you, brushing down your coat, his eyes impassive where they look over your face, your purpling bruise. 
“You can wait in the car,” he says quietly. “I’m going to ask a few questions inside before we leave.” 
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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 3 days
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[Hey, how are you?] Simon Riley*F!Reader
Ten years ago, Simon lost you due to his mistake, and he meets you again after these years of regret.
Hurt and comfort, Happy Ending
“Are you married?”
He always be asked when others see the ring on his finger.
“No.” He answers while taking another sip of his wine, letting the person realize it’s a topic they don’t have the authority to dig in.
He still remembers the vow he chanted as he put the ring on your finger.
The memory is as clear as the day you left the house, and he never saw you again.
It’s his fault, you didn’t shed many tears when he yelled at you, saying that you will never be able to free him from his nightmares, who do you think you are? a fucking philanthropist?
He knew he screwed up everything the moment his taunt escape his mouth.
No, No. I didn’t mean to say that, I need you, I love you, please don’t leave me.
He watched you lower your head, trying in vain to hide your sadness, but your heart was already shattered into pieces, by him, the man who promised to protect you by any means.
I’m sorry.
The words stuck in his throat when he looked at you stepping out the threshold with your belongings.
Please stay.
The greedy wish was buried inside his heart when you stopped for a second. “Bye, Simon. Take care.” you whispered, and disappeared into the aisle.
Ten years, he’s still unable to move on.
He brainwashes himself repeatedly, she will have a better life without you.
Yet he still opens his phone every time he finishes his therapy sessions, looks at your number, and just stares at the screen for minutes.
His thumb lingers on the “call” button but never dares to press it.
Hey, are you doing alright? I’m sorry, I want you back. I went to therapy after that day. I’m not the same person caged in his past anymore.
I miss you so much.
but how selfish he is if he interrupts your life now? Such a nice person like you deserves someone to cherish you nicely, and treasure you with their whole heart.
That’s why he now stands afar from you, watching you behind the veil of autumn’s breeze.
You’re still stunning, time doesn’t deprive your beauty even a bit.
He gazes at you for a long while, and when you turn around and spot him, it’s obvious that you’re in shock and come to a halt.
The world keeps moving, but the time seems frozen between you two, as you both set eyes on each other and never dart.
You head towards him as he starts hesitating to take the first move.
“Hey.” You look at him with a shallow grin on your face.
“Hey.” He mumbles.
The silence fills the air, but no awkwardness, he’s just too indulged in your presence, which he has been dreaming of for years.
Sorry for that day. How are you doing now? Have you married? Have a partner?...
He has too many things he wants to ask, but his thoughts are like matted wool, until his eyes land on the ring on your finger.
“You’re marrie—“ He questions without a second thought, but the words get cut off instantly due to his realization.
because the ring is paired with the one on his finger right now.
It’s not until you chuckle that he’s back to reality.
“Yes, I’m married, about ten years ago? to an idiot man.”
“Why did you marry him? he’s a bloody dork.”
“Good question. or maybe that’s the reason why I married him.” Shrugging, you then meet his gaze with a smile “How about you? Are you married?”
“Yeah, ten years ago, to a woman that’s too precious for me, so I lost her.”
“If you meet her again, what do you want to tell her?”
“I’ve improved. I’ve reached for help and now I’m not the same man anymore.”
“Anything else you want to say?”
“I miss her every single day, and I hope I can have her in my arms again.”
“Well, I don’t know about her.” you step closer to him. “But I’m sure she will love to have some tea with you as her first compensation from you, what do you think?”
He blinks at the hand you reach out at him, and slowly, he takes it into his palms, that’s befitting to drive away the chill.
Your hand fits well in his, like it’s made for him to serve it with all his warmth, and he’s sure that he will never let go of it again.
“My pleasure.”
a/n: lemme give Simon a fucking punch/j
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munsonsfairy · 20 hours
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I have an ideaaa
how about a Paige x fem!reader wedding/proposal fic or headcanon??
the idea of her draft fit as a wedding outfit omfg 🤭
🪞🏹🕯️🌿 MY PEACE • PAIGE BUECKERS
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omg i love this idea!!! i did wedding headcanons if that’s okay!! <3
content: fem reader & no physical description of reader or their wedding outfit
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౨ৎ the night before, you and paige spend it by cuddling into each other while sitting on the balcony that overlooks the city.
“my wife, my wife, mine,” she whispers against your neck after every kiss. “not for another day, babe,” you’ve been reminding her since she proposed.
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౨ৎ it takes her 20 minutes to leave your townhouse that night. lots of goodbye kisses have already happened that it took kk & ice to drag her ass out.
“bye my beautiful gorgeous wife!” paige yells out the window as ice drives away. she doesn’t get into the car until you are out of her sight.
౨ৎ instead of reading your vows in front of your wedding guests, the both of you decided to do it before the ceremony. as you walked towards paige, you could see her wavy blonde hair with her front pieces in braids (as always). she was wearing an all white suit. you could tell she was nervous and excited by how much she was fidgeting.
“paige?” when she turned around her blue eyes already had tears in them. she looked at you in awe and almost fell to her knees. “we can’t cry we both have make up on,” you fan both of your both eyes trying to hold it all in.
she laid her head on yours and looked into your eyes. for a moment it felt like it was only the two of you in that garden. “we’re finally doing it. my wife,” you see a tear fall from her eye as she leans in to kiss you.
౨ৎ now the vows!!!!!! 🥹
paige reached into her pocket and took out a folded piece of paper. you could see her shaking, so you squeezed her hand to remind her it’s just you.
she smiled at you and took a deep breath, “ever since i could remember, i was always told, “you’ll know when they’re the one,” and i never understood that. i never felt complete until i saw you. when our eyes met, i knew after 3 seconds that you were the one. i’m blessed with the pleasure to know someone like you.” she looked up at you and saw you tearing up. “bro if you cry, i’ll cry,” she said laughing. “okay okay! no more crying.”
she took another shaky breath, “to be able to love and be loved by you. you are my sunrise and sunset filled with the most beautiful colors. you’re my peace with the world is too loud. your love is my turning page. you are the strongest person i know and i admire to be my best self everyday. i never doubted our love and will always consider myself lucky to love and learn from you. these past four years have been my favorite movie. i promise to love every single detail of you for the rest of my life.”
after you said your vows, paige was walking up to kiss you until you stopped her. “not until we say i do!” she looked at you with shock but kissed your knuckles on both hands. she leaned her forehead on yours once more. “see you at the alter,” then watched as you walked back to the venue’s house.
she didn’t want to take her eyes off of you. just wanted to stand there and admire you.
౨ৎ during the dance, you reserved chick-fil-a as a surprise for paige. she ran to you and grabbed your face to kiss you all over. her and kk were fighting over who was going to be the first to be served. spoiler alert: you got served first since they were too busy bickering. when you were eating your nuggets, paige noticed you had ranch on the corner of your mouth and kissed it off of you.
౨ৎ once your reception was over and almost all of your wedding guests have left, you and paige danced one last dance. your heels were long gone and paige was very tipsy. she held you so close to her chest that you could hear her heartbeat. you felt the breeze against your skin and closed
your eyes. paige was slowly guiding you in a circle while humming the song.
she kisses your head and said, “my wife.”
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tagging: @urantisocialgay because i know you’ve been asking for this (:
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azullumi · 1 day
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“withering desires of a cruel man with broken confessions” ; aventurine
to you : 🧀 nonnie !! i hope you had a wonderful birthday and i’m sorry for taking a long time to finish this but hey, it’s done now (finally). belated happy birthday and i wish you all the best <33
premise — his belief that he doesn’t deserve the good things is rooted deeply underneath the dirt where he buries his corpse, and he doesn’t deserve you; this is an ode to clementia and he wishes that his song reaches you.
tags — w/ gender-neutral reader, fluff to angst, friends to friends that knows they like each other, orange as a metaphor for love, angry and forced love confessions, aven my self-sabotage and mixed signals king, 1.5k ; one-shot
note — made while listening to phoebe bridgers, faye webster, adrianne lenker, and ichiko aoba. this was supposed to be a short drabble about peeling oranges and sharing with them what happened
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They say clementines are a symbol for mercy—gentle, soft, and sweet, like an echo of the sun. 
There’s the fresh smell of citrus in the air as he delicately pulls its skin to reveal its form, a warm burst of sunset trapped within its fragile walls, and his nails will be tainted by the color of its penance and he’ll forget what it feels like to only have hatred in his heart. Maybe that’s how forgiveness tastes; salvation will fill his blood as he sheds tears that carry his sins (they were never his).
“I don’t know how you can do that flawlessly.” You say, your voice drenched in wonder and amazement as you watch the movement of his fingers, adeptly peeling the fruit. The sections come apart neatly and perfectly in his hands.
He smiles, “It’s easy.”
“It’s not.” You insist, reminding him of the horror of the state the orange has become when you tried to share it with him. “Did you see the holes I tore through it? I was left with nothing but the mere coat because the juice sprayed in all directions.”
The sound of laughter forms in his throat and escapes, “It’s because it was small and the skin is hard. Come on.” He holds a small piece near your face and you part your lips open enough for him to feed you; a warm feeling resides in your cheeks as you chew. There’s a burst of sweetness, with hints of sourness that lingered in its nature in your mouth—it reminds you of the night when he held your form and gently guided you to the melody of the song. 
“Is it sweet?” He asks, his head tilted a little to the side as he bores his gaze at you. There are lingering touches, whispered honey-coated words, affectionate gestures, and eyes painted of different vivid hues and contrasting pristine tones that never seem to hold the light, only reflecting your form within. You hum, nodding your head as you answer, “You should teach me how to peel them, you know. I don’t want to be calling you everytime or having to rely on you too much.”
(Truthfully, and hopefully so, may you never learn so he’ll get to be this close to you always.)
He smiles, sunshine peeking through his expression, “I wouldn’t mind.” He wouldn’t mind if it were just a small matter or nothing at all, you can keep on calling for him, ask for his assistance or simply just his presence—he’ll come running to you. He whispers, “Use me as you wish,” and his words shatter as it falls to the ground. (See him as a tool that has never known its purpose. See him as worthless but mere dust that covers your window sills. See him as nothing but a fool who never understood the lines in his heart.)
You say, “You know you’re not just as little as that to me.”
“Then what am I to you?” The comfort of silence settles in the gaps of his fingers and he finds himself seeking, waiting, with bated breath. His gaze seems to still at your eyes before falling to your lips, lingering for a few moments before meeting your eyes once more, and your hands tremble; you know the answer, you know what to say, you know, you know, you know, you know—and, at once, there’s the warm feeling of his lips on yours as you pull him in, as he pulls you in.
It’s gentle, soft in all of its edges and cracks. He holds your face in his hands and you intertwine yours in his locks, and you pull at his hair, eliciting a hum from him. It’s a burst of warmth, the taste of something sweet still left in your tongue as he kisses you. It’s short yet it will be engraved and buried in the depths of your mind for eternity.
“I like you.” You whisper against his lips as you part, eyes heavy on each other yet his gaze wavers and his breath shudders.
“I…” Why else would he continuously seek your embrace? Why else would he prefer to be alone with you even if it’s just silence between you and him (your presence alone brings him comfort)? Why else would he take such time to understand your form and cradle your being as if you were born from glass? He didn’t have your hands carve the shape of his thoughts into the form of your being just so he wouldn’t capture the feeling of your touch on his skin and how he craves, yearns for it like a starved man—and yet, he’ll hold his head down in humiliation as he looks for the words on the ground. He’s worthless, useless, nothing like his ‘luck’ that seems to curse everyone around him, and you’re everything he’s not. “I’m sorry.”
His hands fall from your cheeks and he stands up, saying, “I’m sorry, I have to go.” 
The chair screeches beneath him; his thoughts remain silent yet deafening, your voice fading into white noise as you call for him. He has to leave—each of his footsteps are heavy, echoing back to him as if a semblance to contempt and mockery that trails his wake.
Fear and shame forms at the bottom of his lungs. What even is he afraid of? Is it the lack of experience? The fear of abandonment? But humans are not strangers to those thoughts, people are bound to leave and Aventurine wasn’t unfamiliar with that, so how could he be afraid of something that has become a friend to him? Maybe it’s when he’s torn apart from flesh to bones and they’ll see there’s nothing in him—he was born out of barren wastelands and dust, his form has been long since buried under the golden sands. Maybe it's when he’s shown everything to them and they seek for something that he doesn’t have; the disappointment that lies in their expression will forever haunt him. Was it fear or was it worry that nobody could ever love him for what he truly is? Behind the expensive clothes he wears, the shining and heavy jewelry on his wrist, the suffocating rings on his hand, maybe they prefer his skin tainted with letters instead of wounds that brands him as human.
“—Rine.” A hand grasps at his wrist, preventing him from leaving. He stills in his position, feet glued to the floor and his back turned against you. Your voice breaks, “Stay, please.”
He’s stuck, sutured to the ground, hesitation sewing his mouth shut. You urge him to turn around, your fingers tugging at him, so he could face you, so you could see him—he’s tattered, torn and conflicted over something you’ll never know. The unfriendly air of the cold night wraps around his figure, but your hand eases warmth and comfort in his weary bones.
“Why did you kiss me?” You seek for something in the gaps of his expression, looking for a falter in the lines of his features to know the thoughts that he hides beneath all the charades and facades.
“…It was a mistake.”
You answer, frustration slowly seeping into your tone, “You know damn well it’s not.” He knows completely well it’s not and it will never be. And you don’t cry nor plead, you beg with sore, trembling palms for an answer to soothe the disturbance of the waves that will come to swallow you, drowning you in the murky waters of your mind. “You don’t get to hold my hands and cradle me in yours and tell me it’s nothing. You don’t get to look at me in a way that is reminiscent of lovers and tell me it doesn’t mean anything. You don’t get to kiss me and say that it’s a mistake. You’re a cruel man, Aventurine, and you’re unfair for telling me that it was all nothing but a mistake when you haunt my dreams.”
“…I’m sorry.” He closes his eyes for a moment, darkness swallowing his vision yet his mind conjures an image of you in it, berating him. The broken pieces of your words are left scattered on the bottom of yours and his feet.
You ask, voice low, “Do you like me?”
“Why—“
“It’s a yes or no question, ‘Rine. Do you like me or do you not?”
“I love you.” His voice is raised and cracks start to form on the surface of his expression, “and it’s scaring me.” Forgive me. The clock continues to tick despite the world seemingly coming to a still at his words.
The air is suffocating and the silence sits on your shoulders before he says, whispering in a broken tone, “I’m leaving.”
And this time, you don’t stop him. His steps are rushed against the flooring, the sound of the door closing echoes throughout the corners of your mind. The walls of your home stand tall over you, his confession written and tearing through all over your wallpaper, screaming at you; you’re left crumbling on the floor. The sweet scent of citrus lingers in the air, the mess the two of you made still on the counter tops, and you wished you told him you love him too.
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tagging @toorurs, the loveliest and sweetest of all. i hope you know that you're cherished and loved by me, and i'm so glad to have you and the sun that touches your skin must be too <33 always be reminded that you're beautiful and i appreciate everything that you do and say (you always make me laugh even when it's just the smallest and useless of things like wow you must have a special talent in making someone smile) !! thank you for always being there for me too and always cheering me up, and also making my day because everything for me nowadays is becoming unbearable and you're the only one that keeps me sane (fk exams and projects and research im going to cry)
© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.
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Slow and Steady Wins
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Summary: Joel loves to take his time and enjoy all of you until you’re begging for more
Warnings: mdni 18+ mature content, explicit sexual content
A/N: comments and reblogs are what help writers so please if you like it say something and reblog so others can enjoy! Also, my tag list is always open so please don’t hesitate to ask I would be more than happy to add more! Thanks! XOXO
Hall of Hunks
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“That’s it baby. Nice and slow.” Joel’s low voice whispers in your ear as you sink down on his length. Hands on his shoulders to keep yourself upright. Gasping as you feel your walls stretching around him. Adjusting to how thick he really is and enjoying the feeling.
Turning your gaze to the wall trying to avoid his intense stare across your face. Biting down on your arm to return your attention back to him. Chuckling at how shy you suddenly become with such an intimate moment. Leaning forward more to feel your chest against his so your hearts beat as one.
“Can you feel all of me?” Keeping his voice just above a whisper like he didn’t want anyone else to hear.
“Yes.” Mumbling while lifting your hips up just above the tip before pushing him back in. Hands on the fat of your ass squeezing the flesh softly in his palms.
“Does my baby want more?” Nodding your head worried nothing but moans and gasps would slip out. Your fists now tugging on the nape of his hair fingernails scratching along his neck sure to leave a mark. Joel didn’t mind in the least bit.
Stroking soothing circles on your skin as he raised his hips to get a deeper angle. He’s warm and soft and incredibly deep. Feeling his lips glide across your face as you flex your muscles to lift your legs. Both creating a rhythmic motion so you two were in sync.
“Take it easy sweetheart.” He directs you while he pats your ass in warning. Of course you’re so lost in the feeling of his cock and so drunk you can’t stop.
“I need you so bad Joel.” You plea with him pathetically that tears start to form in your eyes. He hated to see you in so much pain that you had to beg him. “Please it hurts.”
“I’m right here baby. I’m not going anywhere.” Reassuring you with a loving smile on his face showing off his dimples. Gripping your hips to drill his pelvis directly up into yours. His brows furrowing in concentration as he could feel you squeezing him so tightly. Like you were afraid he would leave and you would be empty.
“I- I need you.” Choking out as you looked into his dark brown eyes that were glazed over. It was like you were the only person in this world, and all you had was each other. Both of you living in this moment like it was the last.
“Fuck baby so desperate.” His voice dripping like honey so sweet and infectious it had you melting in the palm of his hand. One of his hands wedging between your sweaty bodies to connect with your puffy clit. Circling the sensitive nub hoping to get you closer to your orgasm.
Resting your head on his shoulder feeling the stretch of your thighs as it began to burn. Joel could see you struggling to keep up with his thrusting. Taking matters into his own hands as his arms clasped behind your back and he began to buck into you. Pressing his lips together and holding his breath to the point his face turned beet red.
“Oh my god just like that.” Encouraging him as he hit that sweet spot directly now causing your body to stiffen.
Flexing his abdomen as he ruts into you feeling him all the way in your stomach rigid and hard. With this comfortable position that he kept you in grateful that he was able to give you what you wanted. Joel felt like he was in control and he became drunk on the power.
“Fuck my cock it’s all yours.” Walls clamping down at his crude words snickering at your reaction. Joel looking at your unbelievably disheveled face even when you were a sweaty mess he still thought you looked beautiful. It was his favorite look on you. “Wanna feel that creamy cunt cum on my cock.
Crying out as you gripped onto Joel’s body like your life depended on it. Toes curling as your whole body shook and crumbled into a heaping mess. Chest rising and falling with each quick breath. Stomach trembling with the resounding orgasm that you had just experienced. It was intense and overpowering you felt like you might pass out. Your cunt sore from the beating that you just took stretching you out.
His touch so gentle and comforting as he helped ease you through your release. Soft kisses up and down your shoulders as he rubbed his fingers nimbly up and down your back. This was the Joel that you loved so delicate with you and enjoying every inch of you.
“Took my cock so well baby girl. Such a good fucking girl for me.” Praises whispered in your ear as he remained still inside of you neither of you wanting to move. Smiling lazily at him as you relax into his arms ready to stay like this for the rest of your life.
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eleganzadellarosa · 20 hours
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Can’t Do It Like Me
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pairing: jealous ex!choi san x fem!reader
genre: Smut (you already know)
warnings: MDNI (rough sex, jealous sex, cheating (don’t condone it but it fits the plot), choking, manhandling, slight spit play, oral (m and f receiving), mirror sex, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), squirting, daddy kink, degradation, honestly some toxic shit happens)
word count: 4.1K+
A/N: As soon as I think of it, I come straight to Tumblr. Also San if you see this, I’m sorry 😔 Anyways, enjoy and thanks for reading :)
Every year like clockwork you had to be reminded of a past relationship that could’ve been something special. The notification popping up on your phone “Remember this day?” Yes. You did remember and you wish you could forget but you also couldn’t find the strength to delete the pictures.
Choi San. The man you described as “husband material” at some point in time, only to recall the many moments of toxicity that lead to the breakup. From the distrust to watching your location like a movie, he was possessive and sometimes even that was an understatement. He made sure everyone knew you were his and almost got into a few fights over it.
Eventually, you opened your eyes to how you always excused his behavior and finally put your foot down. You deserved a healthy relationship with a person who strives for the same thing. You were glad San wasn’t in your life anymore, he made it too stressful.
But at the same time, you missed him. Sometimes at night when your hands were between your legs, you'd think about him. You loved your current boyfriend, he was just what you were looking for. But with the recent growing distance in your relationship, maybe all good things in your life were destined to come to an end. He was always away for work, only coming home to see you maybe once every two months or so. A year into the relationship is when things started to change and now that it’s going on two years, you constantly felt alone and your vibrator wasn’t strong enough to keep you sane.
Your phone was ringing; a facetime call.
“Omg hey babe, to what do I owe this spontaneous phone call?”
He chuckled before answering, “Hey baby, I’m just calling to ask you a quick question.” He proceeded when you nodded your head. “Are you busy this weekend? The company’s having a joint event with another company and I may need a plus one.” The tone of his voice inflected upwards as he neared the end of his sentence.
Your heart jumped with excitement. Of course it wasn't a logical comparison to how much he loved you, but you felt the need to be paraded around; labeled as "his girlfriend". You haven't been feeling special recently, so a public event would hopefully be the perfect remedy.
“Oh my gosh babe of course I'm not busy! I’ll go choose my outfit right now!” He let out a hearty laugh on the other end when you squealed, jumping off the bed, leaving him to listen to you rustle around in your closet.
You quickly retrieve your phone when you remember and say your “I love yous” and goodbyes before hanging up. Saturday was only two days away so you’d need to put together the perfect outfit within that time frame. Luckily for you, you owned the perfect dress in his favorite color and your only goal was to make him want to completely ruin you wherever he pleases.
It was disappointing to say the least. Everything about this ride felt expensive. The limo itself, the sparking Swarovski detailing on the interior, the bottles of champagne. You felt wined and dined, but the thing you craved the most was missing. He seemed distant in a way. Maybe it was his body language; sitting with his legs turned away from you, dazing into the space behind you as you spoke. Or perhaps, it was the way his hand gripped his phone and peeked at it every time it'd buzz with a notification.
"Maybe he's always been like this" you tell yourself, blaming it on having not been around each other in a while. The thought of the both of you drifting away, tearing at the seams, was saddening. But you definitely weren't the one to blame and neither was he; maybe his determination and drive. As much as you wanted to be here with him right now, your mind kept drifting to San. He would be giving you his undivided attention. A hand or your knee, or knowing San, a seat in his lap. But enough about him, he was too toxic of a person for you to only recall his good traits.
buzz buzz
You looked at your boyfriend from a peripheral view, a bright smile across his face. It made your stomach churn, it just didn't sit right with you.
"Oh who's that?" you ask, leaning over toward him slightly.
He quickly shut it off and put it in his pocket. "Sorry babe, I was just answering a few texts from the guys. We have this group chat with all of us just so we can talk shit about my boss."
"Oh is he an asshole or something?"
"Yes but enough about my job baby, I wanna hear more about you. I missed you so much." He cupped your chin in his hand and planted a kiss on your lips.
You felt bad for thinking so ill of him when nothing was going on. Maybe that was something you never let go of with your relationship with San. He taught you what real anxiety was and you could never forgive him for that. The limo came to a stop and you peeked out the window to your right to see the destination. You felt like a movie star as you gazed at the long staircase in front of the building. You imagined each side lined with paparazzi, ready to take pictures of the beautiful couple exiting their limo.
Your door opened before you realized you had been daydreaming. Your boyfriend extended his hand for you to grab hold and finally walk up into the venue for the night. The inside was just as gorgeous as the outside. Chandeliers, marble flooring, expensive art lining the walls; the whole nine yards. When everyone comes into view, his arm is immediately around your waist. He introduced you to his colleagues and even to his boss which made you chuckle thinking back on the secret he told you about earlier. Everything was going well for you, yet for someone else, things were moving in a terrible direction.
San spotted you from across the large space, the conversation he was having fading completely the more he watched you. His jaw shifted and clenched seeing your boyfriend with his arm around your waist and hand on your ass. He didn’t deserve you. Sure San knew he wasn’t always the best boyfriend to you, but he could do so much better than whatever your boyfriend was attempting. Based on how giddy you looked, you probably haven’t seen him or spent much time with him lately, or so San thinks.
He remembers like yesterday hearing you tell him that you couldn’t be with him if he didn’t change, and at the time he couldn’t understand what that meant. He thinks he’s matured since then, at least in the way you wanted him to but seeing another man touch you made him realize maybe he has a lot more growing to do if he wanted to stay true to his claims.
He excused himself and made his way over to you. There was nothing wrong with going to talk to his absolutely beautiful ex girlfriend right? Your eyes widened seeing the broad shoulders clad in white approaching you. Your stomach twisted in knots, from both anxiety and flashbacks of your last encounter with him.
“Fancy seeing you here gorgeous.” San reached his point of interest, staring down the man at your side.
“San…how wonderful it is to see you.” You spoke with a forced smiled, trying your best to slow your heart rate. “How’s life treating you?”
It really was quite the surprise seeing him here, as this was the last place you thought to be bumping into him. It got you thinking what this event was for and how the hell he was even invited. Maybe, as you were, he was just someone's plus one. Although, that didn’t take away from the fact that you didn’t want to see him right now, especially knowing how weak you were for him still.
“Hmm it could be better if a certain someone was still in it.”
At that, your boyfriend turned to San, lip turned up in annoyance, “Do you know this guy babe?”
He and San exchanged fighting glances and you stepped in before things could get heated. “Yeah he's…an old friend. This is San.” You weren't sure why you lied, but it felt better to not reveal too much.
Your boyfriend extends his hand out to San reluctantly and San rolls his eyes before finishing the handshake. Things went well for the most part, although you would catch San staring at you, even throwing in a wink one of the times. Luckily your boyfriend caught none of it, knowing it definitely would have engaged his fight or flight response.
After a while, your boyfriend received a call on his phone and he excused himself saying it was important. You dismissed it and he gave you a kiss on the cheek before he walked away. San caught glimpse of the interaction and sneakily followed behind him through the heavy back doors. You stood by yourself at the table, taking small sips of your champagne. A hand slides across the small of your back and rests on your left hip. You turned expecting your boyfriend, only to see San with an unreadable expression. You tried to sidestep out of his hold but he tightened his grip on you.
“Hey don’t leave yet, we haven’t even gotten the chance to really talk beautiful.”
“Yeeeah…San we can’t be doing this right now.” You put a hand up to his chest and he backs away slightly.
“Doing what? Talking? He won’t let you talk to your friends?”
You scoffed, “No, he’s not controlling. And we’re not friends. It’s just I don’t know how comfortable I am talking to my ex who just put his arm around me.”
He rolled his eyes again, shifting his stance to prop a hand on the table, leaning against it to look at you. “Hmm well part of me thinks he doesn’t care.”
If only he wasn't starting to piss you off, you could finish admiring how good he looked. Wider shoulders, more defined arms and even his pecs were bigger. But you knew San and how he was when it came to you. He was possessive, sometimes it was for your own good but most times it just felt like he needed control over you in every way or he wouldn’t survive.
But you had to admit, that was his only flaw. Everything else about him was absolutely mind blowing, especially when it came to satisfying your needs. Your mind ran wild with thoughts. Thoughts of things you shouldn’t be thinking of as a taken woman. Yet, San making eye contact and the firmness of his chest under your hand earlier flooded you with memories of every time he’s fucked you into the mattress.
This was starting to get a bit out of hand and you weren't sure what else San had up his sleeve.
"You look good in your dress." He said looking you up and down, practically eating you with his eyes.
Come to think of it, he was the first to comment on your dress, your boyfriend hadn't mentioned it at all tonight. "Thank you, you also look very nice." You averted your eyes as you took another sip from the glass.
He stood up straight and stood a bit closer to you and rubbed a hand down your back as he leaned in to whisper in your ear, catching you off guard. It made it ten times worse with your dress being backless and the fabric dipping dangerously close to the waistband of your lace panties.
"If I were him, I'd take you somewhere to fuck you in it. Makes me wonder who he could be on the phone with right now. Think about it, if it were me, I would have my hands all over you.”
He was right. It was a fear that seeped into your subconscious every time he would miss one of your calls and blame it on work and how he acted in the limo earlier. He was starting to feel more than an arm's reach but you knew his job was demanding. So when he asked you to come out with him tonight, you decided to forget it all and allow yourself to have a great time and hope you would end your night moaning his name.
You hated San for bringing the thought back to you and you hated that his possessive personality was also a turn on at times but you knew better than to let yourself fall in his traps. A blush grew on your cheeks feeling the warmth of his breath tickle your ear. This was bad, you needed to stop him in his tracks before your boyfriend came back and questioned you. This had to end right here right now.
You pushed him into the nearest room, one you didn’t expect to be a bathroom, but anywhere was fine as long as no one saw where you went and with who. You carefully locked the door and turned to face him; he already had that arrogant smirk on his face.
“San what the hell?!” You shoved him on the chest. “I was hoping you weren’t going to cause any trouble, but I guess I was wrong. Why do you want to fuck up everything for me?”
He rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Are you even happy? You melted right into my touch earlier.” He walked closer to you, pinning you between him and the sink. “I didn’t say anything wrong either, he's a joke of a boyfriend whether you want to admit it or not.”
You rolled your eyes and scoffed, "Oh what? you think you can do better?"
He stared down at you, face contort in a stern expression. “I know I messed things up for us, but I think we can both agree that he doesn’t deserve you.” He grabs your hand and slides it down his chest, all the way down to his crotch.
“Feel that? You miss it don’t you? He must not fuck you good enough. He must not fuck you how I used to.”
“San…” he put a finger to your lips.
“Oh baby…I can see it written all over your face. Just ask me and I’ll give you what you want.” He steps even closer to you and tilts your chin up with his finger. “Say you’re my slut and I’ll fuck you better than he ever could.” He lifted you and sat you on the edge of the sink.
So much for not falling into his traps. You looked up at him with doe eyes and he looked down waiting for your answer. “I’m your slut…San please…” you were damn near out of breath and your head was spinning with how badly you wanted it; wanted him.
A pleased smile spread on his face. “My good girl, I knew you could do it.” His fingers tapped onto your lips and you happily sucked on two while he kept eye contact. He took them from your mouth and used them to rub slow circles on your clit. “Good girls kiss daddy.”
He lowered his lips onto yours, immediately slipping his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues danced together as he slipped his fingers into you. He wasted no time pumping them quickly against your sensitive spot, earning whines and whimpers.
“You need to forget him for a while and let me make up for all the shit he can’t do.” He spread your thighs and kneeled down between them. “I want you to remember this next time he even thinks he can do better than me.”
He kept eye contact while he licked along the slit of your still clothed pussy, stopping to suck harshly on the clit. You were holding your breath, your last resort for trying to keep in your moans. He hasn’t done much and your toes were already curling. He finally pushed your panties to the side and circled his tongue over your bundle of nerves.
Your hands tangled in his hair, pushing him closer to you, bucking your hips slightly against his face. He grabbed your legs and made them rest against his broad shoulders, your heels digging into his back. He added a finger into the mix, breaching your walls in an attempt to get you louder. Surely it was working more than you'd have liked.
Your head leaned back almost hitting the mirror as your chest heaved. Your toes curled and you pulled harshly at his dark locks making him groan against your skin. He sat up and roughly rid you of your panties before shoving them in his pocket.
“You don’t need these anymore. On your knees.” The way he said it gave you no room to disobey, so you shakily hopped off the sink and he pushed you down onto your knees. He unzipped his pants, letting his dick pop free. Thick and heavy looking as always and now you wanted nothing more than to wrap your lips around it. He grabbed your chin in his hand, “Open.”
You opened your mouth to let him spit in it, he loved messy head and he knew you did it best. He wasted no time in shoving his dick into your mouth and almost down your throat. He gathered your hair in his fist and bobbed your head at a quick pace.
“Go ahead, touch that pussy while I fuck your throat. Don’t stop until I tell you to.”
He knew how much you loved to be dominated, it was easy for him. The look of you on your knees gagging on his dick only made him harder and want to fuck your throat faster, but he wouldn’t be satisfied if you left this bathroom before he got to bend you over.
He pulled you off of him admiring the tears brimming your eyes and the puffiness of your lips. It was crazy to think that your boyfriend was the one sleeping next to you every night and San’s bed was empty. He deserved you more than some man who he found saying “I love you” on the phone with another woman. He deserved to fuck all your worries away. If you gave him a second chance, he would do better. Better than anyone else ever could. You were his forever and you seemed to have forgotten that, but he didn’t mind reminding you.
“Bend over the sink.” He kissed along your spine when you did, your eyes closing in ecstasy. “You ready for this dick?” He was so close, lips ghosting over your ear sending shudders down your back.
As soon as the word “yes” left your mouth, you felt the head of his dick rub harshly between your folds. Your chest felt tight, your heart was beating fast and you could barely keep your eyes open. He kissed in the crook of your neck making you look at him through the mirror as he slid in until he bottomed out. You could cum just from that small movement alone but you’d much rather wait until he fucks you right.
“You missed this didn’t you?” He pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in causing you to yelp from the sudden action. “I missed this pussy…I missed you.” His thrusts sped up to a demonic pace, the wet noises from the constant slapping of skin filled the bathroom effortlessly.
“S-san it feels so good~” you said through moans.
“I know baby, but I’m sad because you’re not using my name.” He used his other hand to wrap around your neck. He squeezed and made you even more lightheaded; It was perfect. “You didn’t forget it did you?”
“N-no Daddy n-never.” It was true and it was why you were never able to use it for your boyfriend. As much as you tried to forget San and how much he consumed your life, it was hard.
He tightened his grip on your hips and rolled his into yours. Of course it was wrong, but this is the most pleasure you’ve felt in a long time; admittedly since the last time you were with San. He had a way of handling you that set your senses on fire. He was exactly what you wanted and with the expectation of getting fucked tonight, you didn’t want to foil your own plans.
“Look how I fit right in. This pussy is mine forever."
He raised one of your legs onto the sink and grabbed a fistful of your hair, continuously plunging into you. Your eyes were rolling back and he patted your cheek, bringing your attention back to him.
“Mm mm, look at you. Look how pretty you look fucked out on my dick. Watch me fuck you just how you like.”
You didn’t want to see yourself in this state, it only made it feel more real. Your tongue lolled out slightly, one strap of your dress draped low on your shoulder and he held one of your breasts roughly. It was a lewd sight to say the least and the sounds that were coming from the speed San was fucking you made it no better.
There was a knock on the door and your head tried to whip in that direction but San tugged harder on your hair. He quickly told the person on the other side of the door that it was occupied, not expecting for them to say anything back.
“Y/N are you in there?” The voice of your boyfriend grated against your ears like nails on a chalkboard. You were guilty and moaning like you were unable to produce any other sound.
San’s eyes darkened and he smiled wickedly. “Oh yes she is and she’s busy.” He leaned forward and whispered in your ear, “Let’s put on a show for him, let him know who owns this pussy.”
He sped up his thrusts and quickly rubbed on your clit. You squirmed in his hold, trying to do everything you could to not scream from the pleasure. Nothing worked and now your boyfriend and maybe several other people could hear what you and San were doing.
“This pussy all for me?” He was an expert with how he rolled his hips into you; he was so deep and repeatedly hitting your sweet spot.
“Fuck Daddy, yes! It feels so good!” Your legs were like jelly and your orgasm was a few more thrusts away.
“You’ll never find someone who can fuck you like this? Who can make you beg for it?”
You whimpered loudly in response. You thought it wasn’t possible but he fucked you harder, fucked you faster and with the abuse on your clit there was no more delaying your bliss. You came hard, squirting onto the floor and partially on the man behind you. Your walls were squeezing him so tightly and he loved every single second.
"You gonna let me cum inside so you can take me home with you, hmm?" His thrusts were getting sloppier but he never slowed down and never stopped rubbing your clit.
The overstimulation and the way he spoke to you was driving you mad, you didn't think about anything else in this moment besides making this a night to remember.
"Yes Daddy fill me up, please please please!" You knew he loved it when you begged, especially for him to empty all his cum in you. Tonight was no different and he came in a few more thrusts.
"You did so well baby, took it so well." He gave you more kisses to your shoulder as he gently pulled out and let go of your leg.
By this time your boyfriend was already banging on the door, demanding that you let him in. San made sure to clean the both of you up before he let you out of his sight. You walked to the door, taking a deep breath as you unlocked it; San close behind. Your boyfriend looked like he could pop at any second with how red his face was.
"Are you fucking kidding me?! You see one old friend and you let him fuck you in the bathroom? IN PUBLIC?!"
He almost shoved at your arm, but San does it to him first. "I don't suggest you follow through with that. And maybe next time you should make sure your girlfriend is happy before you start running your mouth."
"That IS my girlfriend, back the fuck off!"
"Oh her?" San points and quickly glances in your direction. "No, she's mine, I was referring to the one you were on the phone with, but maybe you're already forgetting about her too."
And with that, your now ex-boyfriend had nothing left to say but apologize to you as you walked away with San. Maybe all things did come to an end, but perhaps for good reason.
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monisahyo · 2 days
Note
Hiiii👋🏽
Idk if this is a good idea or not but I’m all about Natasha getting the love and life she deserves so could you write a fic about her and reader retiring from the Avengers and getting an apartment/house together. It’d be so cute to see Nat and Reader being domestic with each other and stuff.
Also, congratulations on starting your blog! I can’t wait to read your stories and stuff☺️
Summary: after your retirement, you just want to spend some time with your lovely girlfriend natasha.
Warnings: intended lowercase, fluff (a little bit if you squint your eyes)
A/N: omg thank you so much for this request. i hope i could somehow write what you had in your mind. also i'm sorry if this is a little bit short or not containing as much fluff as expected i'm just really bad at writing this stuff. i hope i can learn it fast tho!!
after signing the retirement papers, you were ready to go home. but first, you needed to do some things first.
picking up the last things from your desk and moving them into a box, you find a picture frame with a group photo of the avengers. all of them. seeing this your eyes are starting to fill with tears and memories of the good old days are flooding your brain. taking a napkin and wiping away the tears, you are ready to leave this part of your life behind and finally move in together with your girlfriend - natasha.
outside the avengers campis you turn around or the last time. "ahh shit, i'm gonna miss this place" and with these being your last words, your turn around and drive home to your apartment.
after a 20 minute drive you finally arrive at your destination. just being able to enter your home and knowing you won't have to fear for the love of you life is a relief.
twisting the keys and opening the door, you notice that the lights are switched off and there is no sign of life in your apartment. "honey! i'm home", after a few minutes and still no answer you start to get worried and roam around the living room looking for your girlfriend. suddenly you smell something. it smells like something is being cooked. you rush to the kitchen when you notice natasha standing at the counter. she is wearing headphones and probably listening to music so she isn't hearing you. sneaking up on her you put your hands on each side of her waist and get as close to her as you possibly can. you expected her flinching so you press a kiss on her cheek and take of her headphones.
"hey baby" you whisper in her ear. "geez, do you have to scare me like that!" she says putting the knife on the counter and turning around. now facing you, she puts her arms on your shoulders and presses light kisses onto your lips. "what have you been up to?" you ask, spying to her left and seeing a cutting board with various cut-up vegetables and a pot filled with cooked rice. "oh this, it's nothing. i thought i'd suprise my lovely girlfriend with a small dinner and to celebrate our retirement i even planed a surprise for you!" she says excited. "oh a surprise? but this is already enough" you say pointing at her and the half-way cooked meal. "and besides, i also have a gift for you" you whisper into her ear, picking her up and placing her onto the counter. you start kissing her soft, welcoming lips. you start making your way down to her neck and leaving small kisses and bites everywhere. as a response you only get a "mmmhh" from natasha, as she is too fixated on your hands on her waist slowly making their way under her shirt. "shit i missed you natty" you mutter whilst kissing her collarbone. "y/n we have to stop.. i have to finish the dinner.." she mutters whilst moving her fingers under your chin.
picking her up and moving to your newly shared bedroom, you softly lay her on your queen sized bed. "the food can wait darling. i need to spend some time with you." you mutter against her lips.
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Not Our Time
Cheater!Chris!Sturniolo x Fem!Reader
Warning: Wrist grabbing, cussing and that’s it
a/n: this took a while, hope you guys enjoy it
You were tired of it. The lying, sneaking, yelling, arguing. Everything. You found out Chris has been cheating on you 2 weeks ago. You loved Chris so much that you tried your best to see it through, pretending that it wasn’t true. Last week after you found out You went to confront Chris about the whole situation but, he kept brushing it off. Telling you that it was before you guys knew each other and there was nothing to worry about. You knew better than to trust what he said. Chris knew he couldn’t have his cake and eat it too, but he never felt the need to quit his ways.
Right now You and Chris were currently in his room trying to figure out what went wrong in the relationship. Chris’s phone was in your hand, the messages between Chris and some girl displayed on the screen. Tears were threatening to roll down your face, but you needed to be stern to get through to Chris. “Y/n it’s not what you think” Chris said running his fingers through his hair. “Then what the fuck is it Chris, cause it looks like you cheating on me” You said putting your hands up in defense. “I’m not cheating on you that was a long time ago you are just being delusional” Chris says annoyed. “CHRIS DONT FUCKING LIE TO ME, THIS WAS 10 FUCKING MINUTES AGO ” You say yelling. “YOU ARE DOING TO FUCKING MUCH SHES JUST A FRIEND” Chris says yelling back. “Oh she’s just a friend, I didn’t know friends sends nudes to each other” You said sarcastically. “YOU ARE FUCKING CRAZY Y/N” Chris says yelling at you. “IM CRAZY, YO BITCH ASS CHEATING ON ME WITH A REJECTED VICTORIA SECRET MODEL AND IM CRAZY” You say yelling while getting in Chris’s face. “First of all watch your tone with me, I’m not one of your delusional ass friends who you can talk to like that” Chris says grabbing your wrist. “You are a fucking joke Chris” You say yanking your wrist back from his grip. “So what now you’re gonna break up with me” Chris says crossing his arms. “Yes exactly what I’m gonna do” You say laughing a little. “Wait wait you can’t be seriously willing to end this relationship over this” Chris scoffs getting worried. “Well no it’s not just that, you treat me like shit and act like I don’t mean anything to you so why stay” You say passionately. “Baby, don’t leave me I’ll change” Chris says walking towards you grabbing your hand. “That’s what they all say Chris” You scoff. “I mean it I won’t do it again, I’ll cut everyone off, I’ll treat you better, I’ll give you anything you want, I’ll give you more attention just don’t leave me Y/n” Chris says, voice breaking. “Chris I will always love you, but I can’t sit here and let you treat me like this anymore” You say, a tear rolling down your face. “I can do better I can change for you, I just need time” Chris says putting your hand to his face for your to hold. “I can’t sit and wait for you to be a better person Chris that’s something you have to do on your own, we were right for each other once hopefully we can be right for each other again someday, but it’s just not our time” You say crying. “Y/n please give me another chance” Chris says grabbing your waist pulling you closer to him. “I can’t Chris we have to be apart for a while, until you learn how to respect Me and Yourself” You say rubbing Chris’s face with the pad of your thumb. “I love you Y/n” Chris says as his voice breaks. “I love you too” You say before giving Chris a long passionate kiss. “See you around Chris” You say giving him a final kiss on the cheek and walking out of his room, on your way to start a new life without him. Leaving Chris with his regrets
I haven’t posted anything in a while plus I want to start posting more Chris fics 🧎🏾‍♀️
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pupcuck · 17 hours
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(I COULD NEVER BE) YOUR WOMAN !
ft. og4!leon s. kennedy x fem!reader
tags. crossdressing, force fem, short instance of groping/harassment by some gross man, humiliation, dom!reader, a few misogynistic comments surprisingly not from leon, repressed homosexuality, leon n some unnamed cute guy, r slur is used ONCE by same gross dude, slight angst, implied/past sa very light tho, public sex, dub-con
note. title from white town duh has nothing to do w the fic. um unedited n quite bad not loving this but here u go.. 2000s clubbing.. I also want 2 say r slur is used by some dude who is just awful to leon in this.. not meant to be like . y’know there for shock value lol it’s a word I’ve been called a lot so that would be my last intention. um leon has some misogynistic thoughts but I don’t want them to come across as mine LMFAO I know that I do a very close pov so I don’t want my views to mix with the characters as people usually tend to think. comments n rbs greatly appreciated!
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“You hate me,” Leon states like an upset child, one false lash deep into a murky pit he couldn’t even grapple hook his way out of.
“No, baby.” You shake your head, smiling at him like you hate him. “I love you very much.” The other lash is stuck on, black and spidery in spiky kitchen knife points. He blinks and the heaviness does not melt away like sleep. “My sweet girl.”
“You do,” Leon says, he makes a vague gesture towards his attire, scooping nothing but air with his cupped hand, “hate me,” he adds after a second, the words hang heavy in the air like sopping wet laundry or a body from a tree. You’re busy giving him a once over, a small hand lightly grasping his chin to keep his head up. You’ve never held him so gently before, but this is how girls treat other girls, he supposes. With great care.
“What?” You use a lint roller to pick up loose fibre and tricky stray particles of dust. “Because I made you all pretty, honey?” You lean forward, and Leon, besotted, closes his eyes as if you’re going to kiss him. “I just did your makeup, no kisses, Leon.” Of course, that’s right, he forgot, no kisses. You lick your finger and smudge your work to give him that freshly fucked and wanting more appeal.
“Sorry.” He looks at his reflection.
Blink. Blink. Blink. His eyes make a tacky noise, as if each blink is unsticking them.
He looks ridiculous, not even like a drag queen, they are tasteful and deliberate in their art. He looks exactly like what he is - a man in a wig. There is no pretty way to put it because what he is looking at is not very pretty. The wig tickles his neck like a pale whisper. It is shining too brightly in the way all fake things do, plasticky in the buzzing bathroom light. Metallic shimmer dusts his eyelids like crushed stars, iridescent-pearlescent is all the rage nowadays, it’s barely visible past the thick black that lines his eyes like you’re actively trying to worsen his bags and push him into panda territory.
Leon thinks it is a good idea to think of nothing ever again, like ever. If he didn’t have that thought, if he didn’t sit opposite you at the dining table confessional-style, if he shut his mouth and never spoke a word—Then he would not be sitting here closer to tears than he ever has been, fists clenched tight enough to make coal into diamonds.
You thumb the corner of his glossed lips. “Ready?” You ask him, then turn to face him, pulling a smile that is so mean it’s somewhat ugly and out of place on a face like yours. “Don’t speak or you’ll ruin it, ‘kay?”
A bag big enough to carry a lip gloss tube and nothing else dangles on your pinky as you check your face in the mirror, usually your gloss would be in Leon’s breast pocket, or his back pocket. Whatever pocket he has available.
Today he has nothing of the sort, embarrassingly, you place a tube between his pecs and it stays. You tip your head back and laugh at him, swiping it away a moment later. “I’m only joking, Leon.”
A considerable amount of muscle has been dropped since he came back from Spain. Cooking is hard, eating is harder, and he only really makes the effort when you visit. You don’t pry, so it’s only now that he notices, filling out your dress too well, that his edge has almost completely been lost to softness.
And it’s still there—He’s still a man with a dick and balls first and foremost. His arms are big, and his chest juts out in the wrong way. Wrong. It’s all so wrong.
This thought is neutered by your hand on his too-big bicep, fingers curling to his shape as you guide him along the stairs in matching kitten heels, he clutches the bannister for support like he’s going into labour.
Today you drive. “Got to treat you like a princess,” you say, smiling at him. All teeth. You take off your heels and kick them beneath the seat where they’ll surely tangle in the cables.
Leon reclines in his seat, closing his eyes and breathing in and out, two minutes away from inducing labour. Dramatics, y’know? Because he’s a girl today, not because he feels like he is being gutted by a claw machine.
You drive, he tosses and turns and squints at the road ahead to hide his creased brow. You drive, and he wonders what led him to this very moment, what has become of him and his pity party life. But Simon Says and Leon does. You say and Leon follows blindly like a die-hard fucking fan of Jesus would. A disciple, he guesses, but in some way even that is too much credit. At least they were, like, on equal grounds. He’s too passive to be Judas, and too much of an unbeliever to be any of the other ones. He is just some fucking mangey street urchin suckling on the teat of a wild dog that Jesus patted once and cured and would not leave the poor dude alone.
Unfortunately, Leon takes instructions better than he does dick and that is his problem. Yeah, that’s what he was trying to say before it all got away from him.
The bouncer questions nothing, no ID is needed, which is both a relief and an insult to Leon. Does he look that old? This makeup, this dress, this stringy mop of a wig it ages him.
The bass of a thousand beating hearts rips through him.
If Leon was a girl he’d simply kill himself. It hurts too much. The dress is itchy and his chest is sweating and his full face of makeup is melting his skin into goop and his feet are killing him. He’s sorry for all those times he requested a girl keep her stilettos on during sex. He’s sorry to you for buying you shoes on all those anniversaries, birthdays and Christmases. He’s sorry for that time he requested a lap dance in heels on your anniversary, his birthday, and that joint Christmas. He is sorry to every fucking woman for the system that has been put in place that requires them to wear heels to work and to dinner dates and to pick their kids up from preschool.
“Are you hurting, baby?” You place a cool hand on his cheek, feather-light, ensuring you don’t smear his pasty foundation. When he nods, pitiful, you coo at him. “Oh, big ol’ Agent Kennedy, I’m sure you can handle it, sweetie.”
Leon shakes his head again, firmer and sadder. “You can handle it,” you tell him, smiling dropping as fast as it came. A hand comes to rest on his waist then slides upwards along his naked back, courtesy of the open back of his blue dress, gliding over his pronounced shoulder blades. Lily-white and spread sideways like lotus petals or something akin to angel wings.
The two of you end up in a booth with four men and a red-headed girl who is decently pretty. She talks too fast for Leon’s liking, and each time she opens her mouth, which is a lot of fucking times for a long fucking time, her spit flies out and lands on his face in beads.
There is a man who’s tall and strapping in the way Leon likes his men in the private fantasies he keeps hidden in the lonely gallery that is his mind. His experience with dick starts with Jack and ends somewhere before you. Jack taught him how to work a dick, and if Leon were to kiss and tell, he’d tell this man how much he wants to play with it, stroke it and love on it.
(Only if he was a girl, which tonight he is.)
You’re midway through telling a story, leant in for added effect, elbows on the sticky table. “And Leon says, she’s like—“ Your voice fades out.
Another guy, stout and ugly, sort of piggish in the face, asks, “Is it a dude?” He jabs his thumb in Leon’s direction. “That’s a dude's name.”
“What, no.” You frown, breezing over your blunder like fingers on silk. “It’s a nickname, y’know, from when we were kids, ‘cause she looks like a dude.” Laughter lifts into the air like plumes of smoke. Leon feels like he is breathing it in, tiny shards crystallise in his lungs and choke him.
He shouldn’t be humiliated, there is nothing to be humiliated about because he is what you say he is. He’s a dude. But he is humiliated, and it is driving him mad, he has killed himself in a hundred different brutal ways in his head while you talk.
“She don’t talk, she got a problem?” He says in his nasty, thick voice. “Is she retarded?” It sounds like there’s phlegm lodged in his throat all the fucking time. “Feminist?” Good lord.
“Oh my gosh, like, I don’t think you can say that,” the ginger smiles nervously.
“She just gets a little scared around guys.” Your smile is so cold it chills him to his core. “Bad experiences, y’know?”
Not exactly wrong. Leon is weary of shared showers, he is weary of urinals, of stalls with busted locks, and he is weary of other men, but he would never say it and he would never show it. But now, sitting here as a girl, as a woman, he trembles.
“Oh, yeah?” The dude sits back, spreads his legs to accommodate a dick he likely doesn’t have. Then he leaves it at that.
You kiss him to make up for the silence, you grope his tits—his chest through the fabric of his dress, you raise your Von Dutch tee to show off your cute heart-shaped pasties. None of it is for Leon, it’s for the guys sitting in front of you, because as a woman you exist for men, to perform and flash your panties and act like you’re into it.
Which you are, he knows your pussy is wet ‘cause of that look on your face, eyes glinting like marbles, you’re getting off on him being stretched past his limits.
An hour later, you push him onto the dance floor, watching through throngs of people and Leon is met with the pig-faced guy, he’s pink and sweaty like one too. Leon denies every advance he lays out. Then fingers splay over the round of Leon’s ass, and his flesh is gripped so tight it mottles how dicks purple.
The guy says something and everything and nothing but fluff. You uppity slut—You think you can—Speak up—Y’know, even the ugliest bitches have wet little pussies between their legs—
Leon really does not.
Leon could push him off. He could break his fingers, disable him, kill him in the middle of this godforsaken dance floor. But he just stands there and stares like a real woman.
(But he has always stood there and looked death right in the eye, it comes hurtling, barrelling into him at full speed like a shit-caked asteroid and all he does is stand there. He’s not had the energy to get back up lately.)
The handsome guy, the one that is taller than Leon, the one that he likes a lot, steps in and saves him. And this is what it must feel like, to be swept off your feet. To be princess carried and loved sweetly by someone worn and rough.
Christ, this wig has a mind of its own. Infecting Leon’s psyche with its mushy bullshit. He wants to go home. He wants a beer and a drag from your cigarette. He doesn’t smoke, but he will tonight.
“Are you alright?” The handsome man somehow manages to shout gently over the music. He is so nice, and so handsome it feels wrong to look at him. Leon thinks he knows, and when this man smiles, Leon knows that he knows for certain. “I won't tell.” He grins down at Leon again, soft and brilliant and kind.
Leon passes you on the way to the bathroom, he tells you that it’s getting stuffy in here, then he leaves to get stuffed with cock in the ladies room as all good boyfriends do.
The click of heels makes him suck in a breath, he plants two hands on the broad chest in front of him, tightens around the dick in him so hard he might cut off all blood flow, salty fingers in his mouth keep him from crying out.
Leon knows it’s you from the clink of your bangles. The source of chatter is the red-headed girl, you likely motion for her to be silent—He counts to twenty then meets your eye under the gap in the door. He whimpers around the fingers in his mouth.
“Oh my gosh, there’s totally someone in there,” you gush to the other girl who gasps, “I saw, like, two pairs of shoes, really cute heels.”
“She’s luckyyy, I hope she’s getting it good,” she sighs, “hey, where’d your friend go by the way, the blonde one?”
“Leon?” You seem to pause, weighing up your options. “She’s a total fucking slut.”
“No fucking way!”
“Yes fucking way, I bet she’s gone home with some guy already—I mean, she might be in that fucking stall, wouldn’t put it past her.”
In the stall, Leon shifts, back bumping the wall as he pushes his hips out, grinding down on his dick like he needs this over and done with.
“I could never do that…” The redhead says, “It’s, like, so icky in here…”
“I don’t think Leon minds,” you muse, “I mean, like, don’t tell her I told you, but she gets on her knees in club bathrooms, like, she’s dirty.”
“Gross!”
“I know!” You burst into giggles. “I told her that’s, like, way too far! I mean they don’t even clean these places properly, they send some underpaid dude with a Kleenex out to do the job.”
Leon’s knees ache with the guilt of sucking dick on his knees in a Kleenex-cleaned club bathroom. The dick inside of him throbs, a single push and it spills into the rubber.
The click of heels fades out as you and your newfound friend exit the bathroom.
“You let your friend talk about you like that?” The man asks, smiling still.
“She’s my girlfriend,” Leon says meekly in a voice that is not his. He has never been meek or scared or anything of the sort. Leon has guts, too many maybe, they make him stupid. That’s what he gets by on. That’s why Leon returns home. Because he tries not to make a place for feelings.
“I know.” The guy shrugs, he spins Leon around so his back is facing the mirrors. Leon twists his head to look. The striated planes of his back. Your nails in his skin.
“Oh.”
Leon gets in your car and apologises.
“Aw.” You pinch his cheek, uncaring of your heavy hand now that his lipstick is smeared in rings around another man’s dick. “I know, baby, my girl just wanted to have fun.”
My girl, my girl, my girl. He’s not your girl. You’re his girl, and he’s your man and that’s the way Leon likes it. He likes to drape his arm over your shoulders in place of a coat when it gets windy, he likes to pay the bill on dates, he likes to drive you around and he likes to hold your shopping bags. Because that is good and swell and—It’s normal.
You drive him home without saying a word, letting him sit and drown in the weight of his problems until you help him inside, he’s hindered by 1.5 inch heels.
When Leon tries to take his dress off, you stop him. “Princess,” you coo, his teeth rot and he smells the cavities, “I want to play with you.”
“Not like this,” he begs, gazing up at you through his false lashes.
“Yes, like this, baby.” You sit him down on the couch, you take off your heels and then bend down to unbuckle the strap on his. That’s his job. Leon should be doing that for you, a tender grip on your ankle as he threads the metal through the needled holes. “Look at these.” You stand back up, taking the seat beside him, one of your small hands grabbing the underside of his thighs and spreading him open, a leg thrown over yours. “These cute tits,” you say, kissing his neck as you shove your hand down the low-cut neck of his dress, grabbing at his chest in pinching handfuls.
“Don’t call them that,” Leon says quietly, his ears pink like the pucker of his hole.
“I’ll say what I want, princess, okay?” You kiss him hard, teeth knocking into his and your wet tongue running over his front teeth like you want to scrape the plaque from them. “I’m going to fuck you like a girl,” you tell him, pushing his legs as far as they go, his toes curl.
“I don’t like that—“
“I don’t like your dick or your stupid sex talk and I don’t like being fucking pile drived, do you think I like being folded like origami you stupid fucking oaf?” It’s said in the same measured tone of voice you always use, the one that makes him feel stupid. “This is what it’s like being a girl, baby, gotta do what I want.”
Then you lift your hips, skirt shed and panties to the side, puffy pussy swallowing the tip of his cock as you sit on it, taking it inch by inch by inch by inch. All four of ‘em. You hold onto his ankles as you fuck yourself on his cock, a soft squelch everytime his cock bottoms out, slick dripping down his thick shaft and balls.
Leon doesn't like this. How you have him. How you’re taking him, but it doesn’t stop him from feeling good. Your pussy is wet and warm and it squeezes around him, gripping his cock like it’s all you’ve got to live for. You reach between your thighs to rub your swollen clit, but Leon beats you, wanting to make himself useful.
“Good girl,” you praise, eyes rolling back into your skull as you slow your pace, coming to a halt as you place a hand over his, urging him to rub you raw. Then you cum as he presses his thumb into your tiny bud hard, cunt spasming around his dick, letting out a gasp and toppling forward into his chest. Leon’s cock slips out of your cunt, rock hard and lonely, he holds you as his legs drop to the floor, feet on the floor where they belong.
“I didn’t… I didn’t get to…” Leon looks at your face and then his stiff dick, pouting almost.
“I know, baby.” You kiss his head tenderly, so tender he nearly forgets why he’s upset. “But you’re a girl now, right?”
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applejuicebegood · 2 days
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Hi gorgeous!! I haven’t gotten a chance to respond to your message about jason x booknerd!reader, but I wanted to quickly message and tell you that I’ve read it and I’m absolutely in love! You literally always come up with such good ideas, idk how you do it!! You’re awesome and ily!!
-(@midnightorchids)
Jason with a Bookworm!S/O
A/N: I know school has started back up for you again babe, so I don't blame you :((( I was originally planning to expand this for you, hopefully you can read this during a study break or some down time (i might repeat some stuff - just look away). It's IB exam season where I am so I share in your pain. Hang in there dude!! Summer is almost here!!
Masterlist
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He's a vintage paperback and leather-bound kinda guy. Crime, Sci-Fi, historical-fiction/romance, magical-realism, and non-fiction are his go-to genres. Favourite authors include; Margret Atwood, Kurt Vonnegut, Haruki Murakami, Frank Herbert, and probably M.T Anderson. He's only a little pretentious about it.
He can spend hours in used book stores digging through the big plastic bins and stuffed cardboard boxes. You help him find specific authors or titles, your basket heavy with your combined finds. He'll carry the bags back to your apartment, his other hand tucked into yours as you gush about excited you are to sort and organise your new additions to your shared library.
He still has some books that Bruce and Alfred gave hm before his murder. Leather bond additions of the Liliad and rare printings of Dracula and Frankenstein. They have these little notes left in the front pages from Bruce that he couldn't bring himself to tear out or throw away entirely. And if you thought his home library was huge- wait until you see the book shelves in his old room.
Since he doesn't spend that much money on himself, he now has every chance to spoil you with your own special additions of your favourite stand-alone's, expensive book-marks, and lavish coffee dates where both of you enjoy your books over the smoothest of richest of espresso.
In the early months of your relationship, most of your dates were spent at bookstores, thrift-shops, and libraries. Your love quite literally grew from the yellowed, torn pages your would both get lost in.
Once his home library combined with yours, most of your bedroom and living room wall space became covered with his floor to ceiling bookshelves. Your bedside tables would each have a small stack of books that you were currently reading.
He absolutely loves how you look with your reading glasses. He thinks it's too cute when you push them up with the back of your hand, entirely focused on an intense passage. Your eyes going wide or your breath stopping at a beautiful line. Your adorable focused stare and sweet round cheeks are accentuated fully. He should be reading the book in his own lap but he's entirely distracted by you. You shut the book with a thump and immediately turn to him to gush about the chapter you just finished only to have his hands catch your jaw and bring your smiling lips against his. And suddenly, you forgot what you were going to say to him.
Jason finds lines and prose in his books that remind him of you and highlight them. He would keep them in a note stack on his phone, just to read them back to remind himself of your beauty. It's something that he could never put into words himself, hence one of the reasons why he adores reading so much. He can find the right order of words that properly express his infinite adoration and care for you.
I've explored this before but you guys have a set date once a month where you'll sit in each-others arms and just read all day. You'll curl up in one of his sweaters with one of your thick Sanderson novels and he'll tuck a blanket around his lap with his special addition of 'Little Women' open in his lap. He'll refill your tea mug because it's always hard to pull you out of your book during your reading days.
You'll order in some warm comfort food for supper and talk about your books respectively. He'll gush about how Jo March is such a revolutionary character and how Amy is actually a metaphor for the loss of innocence girls experience when attempting to emulate patriarchal standards of womanhood.
All while you gaze lovingly back into his eyes, your chin resting on your palm - wondering if a marriage proposal would be too sudden for your evening conversation.
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sinofwriting · 5 hours
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Miracle - Oscar Piastri
Words: 661 Prompt: "You're the first thing I think about when I wake up, and the last thing I think about when I fall asleep."
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Taglist | Masterlist | Emergency Dental Fund | Part of Sin's 5k & B-Day Celebration
Oscar takes a shaky breath, palm running over his suit jacket. At this moment he was grateful that Mark dragged him to get a tailored suit. The suit jacket wasn’t strangling his arms, clinging to the muscles as the fabric looked like it was going to tear. But it also wasn’t loose, looking like he was playing dress up. And the collar of the shirt. It was a relief to not feel like he was getting choked out by the button ups collar.
Her name escapes his lips, all familiar and forever a name he wants to say. It never got tiring, the way his lips formed around it, the way it sat on his tongue and in his mind.
“If I said I never thought we’d get here, I’d somewhat be lying.” He clears his throat, trying not to tug nervously at his collar. “I never thought we’d get here, just because it feels like a miracle to get to see you every day. You’re the first thing I think about when I wake up, and the last thing I think about when I fall asleep.” His breathing hitches. “I can’t imagine this life, my life, without you. Baby, will you,” “Yes.” His heart stops in his chest as he whirls around to look at the bedroom door, eyes wide and mouth dropped open. Her name escapes his lips again. “You weren’t supposed to.” He stutters. She smiles at him, tears in her eyes. “I finished a little early.” His eyes drop down taking in the glow of her skin, the new color on her nails, and the dress she’s been teasing him with for nearly a month. “You look beautiful.” Her smile grows and she steps into the bedroom, no longer in the doorway.
“My answer is yes by the way.” He flushes, remembering what he had been doing, had been practicing, before she interrupted. “I was nervous.” “I know.” Her fingers brush over his pink cheeks before her hands fall back to her sides. “I can pretend I didn’t hear it. Act surprised later.” He shakes his head, swallowing harshly as his fingers reach into his suit jacket pocket, nearly fumbling with the ring box. “No. I think this is better than what I had planned.” “I’m sure what you had planned is amazing.” Oscar smiles, because maybe, but this was more them, even if they were far more dressed up than normal.
Sinking down onto one knee, he looks up at her, looks at the way her eyes shine as she looks at him, at how wide her smile is, at the way her fingers are intertwined with each other.
“Baby,” He starts. “Oscar,” He makes a small noise at the interruption and she immediately presses her lips together, making them both let out a laugh.
“Baby,” he starts again. “I am beyond lucky to have met you, to know you, to be with you. And If I said I never thought we’d get here, I’d somewhat be lying.” She lets out a breathless laugh at the words she just heard before. “I never thought we’d get here, just because it feels like a miracle to get to see you every day. You’re the first thing I think about when I wake up, and the last thing I think about when I fall asleep. I can’t imagine this life, my life, without you. Y/N, will you marry me?” He asks, opening the ring box. She nods, tears finally falling down her face. “Yes. Of course.”
He stands quickly, his free hand cupping her face as he presses their lips together. “I love you. I love you so much.” He mumbles into the kiss, tears of his own streaming down his face. “I love you too.” She pulls away just for a second, just to look at him, to grin at how happy he looks before she kisses him again. “And I can’t wait to marry you.”
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@cixrosie @fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @darleneslane @quackquackhun @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @jointhehunt67 @namgification @asphalstead @poppyflower-22 @racingheartsposts @gothgirlez @kimmib13 @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @hiireadstuff @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803 @tallrock35 @casperlikej
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lovelyiida · 1 day
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KATSUKI BAKUGO X SECRETARY READER • A 500 FOLLOWERS SERIES!
❥ SYNOPSIS: as the years passed, Bakugo came to the realization that he was the last among his class to tie the knot. As the days grew colder, and the nights became lonelier. Bakugo finds the desire to get married, but he doesn't really feel like falling in love. At least he has his trustee secretary!
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implied fem reader, aged-up! Pro-hero MHA characters over the age of 27, vulgar language, suggestive wording and content
❥: CHAPTERS
❥ MASTERLIST
❥ JOIN TAG LIST!
WORDS: 4.3K
PS: Please let me know if you have filled out the tag form since the last update so I can keep up to date!!
CHAPTER 8: VULNERABILITY
PHASE 2: CONSOLE
“Beady-eyed, dog-mannered, dimwad!”
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Headline, headline, headline!
PRO-HERO DYNAMIGHT EXPLODES IN ANGER DURING INTERVIEW
[unreleased footage from Pop! Magazine spreads like wildfire!]
Over 3 million views, and 10 thousand shares.
Since the dawn of the moon, you have been repeatedly refreshing the page. Each and every comment was scanned with frantic-fast movements. Relishing in this whole interview fiasco from the comfort of your queen-sized bed, you moaned in anguish.
Your face became increasingly hot as you read the comments with your third glass of wine in hand. As much as you thought the comments would be demeaning to the pro-hero, the exact opposite happened!
[COMMENT] Did you see how he took up for his secretary? Omg, that was so hot.
• 45k likes • 216 shares
[COMMENT] The way he took her hand going off the set!!!!
• 78k likes • 12k shares
[COMMENT] Oh god, send me a man like Dynamight…
• 57k likes • 2k shares
[COMMENT] Bro there’s no way they aren’t fucking
• 180k likes • 3.8k shares
Of course, that’s the top comment.
Staring at your computer, you tried hard to fathom the situation you were now slapped into. The video of you and Dynamight has gone viral, and everyone now suspects that you two are in a relationship.
And they're not entirely wrong...
Despite your late-night attempts to contact the fiery hero, your calls went straight to voicemail and your texts went unanswered. Letting out a large sigh that was once trapped in your chest, you had no choice but to sit there and let the bomb explode. And await the absolute nuke that was urging to be dropped at the office.
Staring at the messages you sent Dynamight, you scowled. “Flashy piece of carbon fiber pants thinks he’s the shit and can just ignore my messages? Leaving me to the wolves once again!” you shouted in anger. You threw your phone to the end of your bed and buried yourself in your plush duvet. Your throat becomes tight as your eyes are welled with tears.
“I’m gonna teach you, Dynamight, to never fuck with me or any other secretary again.”
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The pattern of clicking heels and bustling conversations filled the office today. Usually, the bleak energy of Dynamight's office could be caught with little to no attention. But the sight you’ve seen today was out of the ordinary.
“The printers are down; just send emails!”
“Has anyone been in contact with Pop Magazine? They’re completely blocking our calls!”
“God damn it, I need a raise!”
The chitter-chatter amongst your coworkers is at an all-time high. As you started to quicken the pace of your steps around the office, scowls and stares were slapped across your face. Stepping foot by foot, you reach the bathroom and hide in the nearest stall.
The door bursts open before you can even think about taking another breath. “Can you believe Dynamight fired Hitomi and Sakura for telling the truth? I mean, the whole floor has seen the video! Even Red was speechless.” A woman says her friend snickers at her remark before chiming in.
 “I’d like to see little miss Secretary say something now; she’s not beating the slut-cretary allegations at this point–”
You didn’t know what came over you at the moment, but your feet began to move before your mind could comprehend what the actual fuck was going on. Slamming the stall open, you watch the two women flinched at your action. Eyes going wide, they stare into your soulless eyes, filled with an incomprehensible anger that you didn’t know was held within you.
“First off, let’s get one thing straight right now.”
You said it flatly, closing the stall behind you. You walked up towards the duo and closed in on them. “Me and Dynamight are not a thing; have you ever taken into consideration that I’m the only person who’s in charge of this man's reputation and career, as we both fucking know it?”
"So, of course, I’ll be hip-and-hip with the brute. Do you think I want that man in that play-pen he calls a fucking office? Oh please, Dynamight needs my ass because he can barely keep his head on every second of the day. So just maybe, we should all realize how valuable I am to all of your lives!”
“Because I know that if I wasn’t here, this building would be in flames, man-made or not.”
You spoke sternly with each huff of your breath, and the two women in front of you were left speechless. Your frown soon curled into a small twitch of a smirk before you spoke once more. “So excuse me for needing to be spoken up for. You bitches, have a nice day.”
Without looking back, your feet trailed confidently out of the boss battle that was the ladies' room and straight toward Dynamight's office. With each harsh click of your heels, you stepped closer to the office, your frown stuck and growing deeper by the second. Your coworkers took into account the drastic shift in your demeanor. From shy and outspoken to confident and ten cans of bitchy.
Without thinking twice, you throw the door open with a small huff and walk into the domain of the pro-hero. Closing the door softly, you turn at your heel and scowl at Dynamight. His amber eyes burn back at you with an almost unamused look, unphased by the absolute chaos ensuing beyond the Acia wood door.
“So what? Are we just going to ignore what the press is saying about us?” You said flatly.
“I ignored your annoying ass text messages pretty much the same way,” he snapped back slyly.
This asshat.
As you stormed towards his desk, you slammed your hands against it with a loud slap that made your palms sting. “Is it possible for you to actually talk about the issue and not be a fucking brat?” You spat with anger.
Dynamight's laidback/unbothered exterior soon crumbles in slow motion. From sitting back in his seat, he approaches you with a smooth motion, his eyes glowing amber-red as his elbows land on said desk. Looking straight into your eyes, a devilish smirk etches across his face.
“Say that again for me, Y/N; go ahead.”
Faces close to one another, you could feel the heat radiating off of the hero. You frown at his attempt at intimidation, snapping your eyes away for a single millisecond before you feel a strong, warm grip on your face.
“No, don’t look away now, pretty. Say what you just said to me again. Since you have all the audacity in the world today,” he said with amusement oozing from his tone. You groaned at the sensation of his hand gripping your face, swallowing down your fear. You spoke once more.
“I said, Man up, brat.”
A long-standing pause settles over the room as his gaze burns into your eyes. Suddenly, Dynamight stands up with one swift move. The blonde removes his hand from your face, you moan in anguish at the fade of his unsettling grip and stare into the blonde's eyes once more.
You watch as the hero points his finger at himself with a mischievous smirk,
“You wanna see a brat? I’ll show you a fucking brat!”
He brushes past you and storms out of the room. Shouting your name for you to follow, you quickly turn to follow in blood-curdling anger. You knew he was a pro and all, but there’s a statistic that for every 1 out of 5 chances, a villain can take a perfect hit at a hero of his caliber.
So you might take a chance and strike him at his weak point…
Preferably somewhere in the lower region.
You watch as Dynamight calls for an emergency meeting, calling for all staff to be in attendance. All staff from each agency scurry behind his steps, and even Red Riot follows suit. He tries to calm the hero down, but his efforts fail.
As the workers sat swiftly to hear the beloved hero's comments, your heart began to beat a new rhythm as the truth dawned on you about what you dreaded would happen next.
"So, I believe we all understand why we're in here. So let's address some rumors and set them to fuckin’ rest."
A sudden pang of fear hits your chest and seeps into your body as you hear the words fall off Dynamight's tongue and through the audience of your coworkers. Eyes scan the room until your eyes fall upon a certain red-headed main in the back towards the exit.
Letting out a soft exhale of relief, you speed your way toward Red Riot.
“Red!” You spoke aloud as you gained the attention of the other pro hero. His eyes snap towards you and he points towards his beloved partner in utter confusion. “What the hell is happening now?” He exasperates in exhaustion.
“He’s having a hissy fit because he can’t handle when the public negatively views him–”
“Negative?” He interrupted. You roll your eyes and raise your hands, completely giving up on the situation playing in front of you. “Dude bumped up 10 ranks in public favor, what the hell could he be upset for?” Red Riot spoke in confusion.
Holding your briefcase towards your chest, you sigh at the current baby of the hero stabbing daggers into your form.
“I…I’m not sure.”
As the assembly room filled up, every person in their seat watched attentively as they awaited the hero's urgent message. The blonde clears his throat before groggily shoving them in his pants. Silently pacing back and forth the head of the room with slow steps, eyes still trained onto you.
“I know what everyone is thinking to themselves, why the fuck are we here? Well, I need to address some petty rumors that are going on in the concrete hellscape.”
“All Might save us…” Red Riot groaned quietly as he watched in secondhand embarrassment at the Blondes' stunts.
"If you think me and my secretary have a romantic relationship, I'm afraid you're damn wrong.”
“Don’t listen to what I might’ve said in the past, or what I’ve said in the present. It ain’t true.”
Blah blah blah, blop blop blop.
You swore you could’ve seen physical bullshit fly out of his mouth.
“To prove this…I’m happily engaged!” The hero boasts confidently to the crowd of his workers. Shoving his right hand out of his pocket and out towards the expecting crowd. A diamond-banded ring shone brightly in the bright haze of corporate lighting.
Then, in a moment both shocking and surreal, Dynamight seizes the attention of the room with a declaration that sends ripples of astonishment through the assembled crowd. With a brashness that borders on audacity, he confronts the swirling rumors head-on, his words cutting through the murmurs like a lightning bolt.
In the sudden hush that follows, the truth is laid bare, raw, and unfiltered. The bombshell revelation of your engagement sends shockwaves through the room, leaving jaws agape and minds reeling. Eyes widen in disbelief as whispers erupt, spreading like wildfire among the stunned onlookers.
Yet, amidst the chaos, Dynamight stands undaunted, his demeanor unwavering despite the tempest of reaction he has incited. His confidence radiates as he confronts the storm of speculation with a rare candor, unapologetic in the face of scrutiny.
Calm within the midst of the business casual storm.
As for you, on the other hand, you could only think of one thing to do in this situation. Your feet rush towards the blonde with a speed never before seen, and your hand flies back as far as possible before landing a seething slap on the hero’s cheek.
Dynamight lets out a gasp of shock (and so does everyone else in the room) at your hit. You stood in front of the hero for only a moment before rushing out of the room and straight out of the office.
And now what was left of you was your body sulking under your covers once more. Leaving you to pick up the pieces of your self-worth once more.
You should consider just giving up, calling off the engagement, and leaving the industry for the rest of your life. A soulless desk job would be better than whatever the fuck this reality is right now.
So much for that speech in the ladies' room...
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You tried hard to care for and take up for the hero you worked for, but at times like this, your vendetta only grew stronger. And the more your sister became right. But there's a voice in the back of your head that is somewhat empathetic for the hero.
Look at his family, for All Might’s sake!
An overprotective bitch for a mother, and an emotional father with no backbone.
(it’s okay for men to show their emotions!!!)
Of course, that would create a man with a lack of emotions and a soul-crushing ego to overcompensate for it.
Of fucking course!
Sighing into your pillow, you could only fantasize about the words you’d want to say to that man right now. 
“Tight pants, brazen-boned, bastard.” You grit your teeth together, as the words only make you angrier. “Beady-eyed, dog-mannered, dimwad!” You throw your blankets off your body and jump out of bed. Rushing towards the kitchen, you grab the fridge handle and swing the door open.
“Fuck!”
No beer.
Huffing out a defeated sigh, you eye the clock on the counter. It read 11:45.
Licking your lips, you ponder as you stare at the fridge and back at the clock. You might as well go out for a walk to cool some steam off. Shuffling over to your coat rack, you lazily threw on a hoodie and some slides. Grabbing your purse and your keys, you open the door to your apartment.
Rummaging in your purse for some convenience store coupons, you continued on your slew of words. “I bet he’s not even a real blonde, just a poser of a man-baby–”
“Hah?”
Eyes snapping wide from the voice, you jump back in shock as you see the man of the hour.
“What the hell are you doing here, Dynamight? Do you know what time it is?” You exclaimed in shock, mouth twisted down into a frown. You stared down at the blonde in anger and in utter embarrassment. Looking down further, you noticed he had a couple of bags in his hands.
Beer and chicken?
“Let me in, we need to talk.”
You scoff at the man's words as you throw your purse over your shoulder. “As if, do you know how you embarrassed me and you today?” You spoke with venom at the hero. Dynamight rolls his eyes before he speaks once more, “If it makes you feel any damn better, I made them all sign NDAs.”
You stare at the hero once more in confusion, and he stares back…unwavering in his actions.
“Okay, sure, do whatever you think will place a bandaid over this whole shit show for all I care.” Placing your hands on your hips, you watch the pro hero step towards you. “Yeah? Well, it's a pretty strong bandaid.”
You hum back in response before the both of you fall into silence. The both of you gazed at each other awkwardly, before tearing your gaze away. A light blush warms your face which makes you look down once more. Looking at the bags of fried chicken and beer, you look at Dynamights hand…
His engagement ring is still on!
“You idiot!”
Frantically looking around the outside of your apartment, you turn back and quickly open the door. You then hold the hero by the collar before shoving him inside. He follows suit with a grunt before shutting the door behind him.
“What the hell is your problem?” He cursed at you.
“My problem? My problem is that you come out to my doorstep late at night bearing a peace offering with your ring on, shining brighter than ever! Fuck-face!” You cursed back. This makes the blonde smirk at your complaint.
“If you think someone is watching us, then you’re pretty late to the party,” he chuckles.
“W-what?” you stuttered in anxiety, breaking from his gaze. You locked the doors and shut the blinds to your home. “Calm down; I paid them off a long time ago,” Dynamight rummages through the bags before setting the food and beer out on the dining table.
“Paid them off?” you asked.
“Yeah, they started watching you as soon as you pulled that stunt at the children's interview a while back. They were going to trample your door down just for a couple of gabs about me.” He spoke, cracking open a can of beer. The hero takes a couple of gulps before placing the can down.
Pulling out a chair, the hero sat down and began to speak. “You think you do all of the protecting when it's me.” He takes another swig of his beer as he stares into your eyes. You swallow a lump in your throat before you grab a seat as well.
“But you can’t say I haven’t.” You trailed off.
“Haven’t what?” He asked.
“Took care of you; everyone thinks you're this strong force to never be reckoned with, but you’re the complete opposite,” you rambled as you grabbed a can of beer and cracked it open. Taking a refreshing, much-needed swig.
Katsuki never responded.
“Y’know, it’s crazy how much this position has changed me. For the good or worse… I’m not so sure.” You spoke softly towards the hero.
“And why do you think that, Y/n?” He asked.
You bit the inside of your cheek at the question. “Before I came to this agency, I never knew what it was like to take care of someone besides myself. And even then, I was doing a shit job at it. My life was teetering on by a thin string.”
The room was silent, the only noises being the taping of Katsuki’s foot, the ticking of the clock, and the hum of your refrigerator.
“So what? You’ve never helped someone out before? Beating someone’s ass with your quirk? Nothin’?” Katsuki spoke, trying to understand where you’re coming from. But you could only let out a big sigh.
"Well, technically, I’m kinda quirkless.”
Katsuki’s tapping stopped.
He gave you a look you’ve never seen before; his eyes were growing soft and his chest began to fall. Like he’s loosening up or something. The blonde stared intensely at you, waiting for you to speak once more. Biting your lip, you continued once more.
“It's like it comes in little spurts, no matter how hard I try to concentrate and force it out. It’ll only come out at the randomest of times. I’ve never seen myself at full power before.”
“One moment I was just like you, young and so excited about my quirk. I grew up thinking that I was going to save the world and that I’d work hard and conquer my way to the top. But the thing is, as yours grew stronger, I was only getting weaker. And the next thing I knew, I woke up, and it was gone.”
“So I went through life with the mentality that I needed to give myself a bit more attention; I couldn’t just wing through life knowing that my quirk could save me. But I knew that if I could have a position of power, that would make me feel like I was making a difference out there for you of all people…”
You suddenly laughed at yourself, taking another swig of your beer.
“Sorry, I don’t even know what I’m saying, I’m already buzzed.”
“No.”
You looked at Katsuki as he spoke, a frown on his lips as he shook his head. You couldn't help but laugh at his demeanor. “All I’m saying is that maybe I wasn’t as cut out for this as I thought I would be. Maybe I’m meant to be a walking target that villains can smell. I’m a walking damsel in distress, honestly. If we didn’t meet through the agency, we could’ve met that way most likely–”
“Shut up.”
Katsuki deadpanned at your words.
“I knew someone who was quirkless, and that loser is stronger than me for all might’s sake!” He exclaimed.
“All I’m saying is that you have a good life, so be proud of it. You work hard, harder than I’ve seen most of the chicken heads that I’ve hired. So bask in that glory.” He says softly, you roll your eyes before you start up again.
“I have a good life? Says the multi-acclaimed pro hero Dynamight! Ranked number two out of the whole country, he drives a red sports car, lives in a nice childhood home, goes to a great school, gets to roll around in money, and gets to tell people how they should dress for five days out of the week? Right, my life is really good.”
You snorted at yourself, reveling in the truth you spoke. But all Katsuki could do was shake his head.
“That same person who you were talking about has almost died countless times, kidnapped in their first year of high school, and has lost too many friends and mentors to count. So yeah, I consider you to have a good life.”
You let out a bittersweet chuckle at his words, “There’s one more thing too.” You added on, Katsuki raised his eyebrows in amusement, “like?”
“You’re also the last to get married.”
Katsuki rolls his eyes and lets out an amused smirk. “Right, that’s checkmate for me–”
“How come you’re the last? I would think that you’d be the first! You’re not a bad-looking guy; you might need to work in the emotional availability department but. You’re crystal clear.”
“I uh…  I tried to do the whole young love thing but it didn’t work out in my favor.” He responded softly towards the touchy subject, but you decided to persist.
“And why do you think that, Katsuki?”
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Back when Bakugo was a younger, newly emerged pro, there was someone of his caliber that he found perfect. They had the spunk, the quirk, the personality, the looks, even the barons. He believed they were perfect for each other.
He had his sights set on them since he had been working in the force. At first, they were a nice distraction. Clever banter turned into hot makeout sessions. Training days turned into blanket-covered nights where the both of them would talk about their future.
And back then, he believed it. He believed that he had a future with them.
Sometimes he would envy Kirishima; he didn’t understand why he wasn’t chosen to bear the burden of love. A warmth beyond his comprehension, a family that he could selfishly call his own.
Sometimes his mind would trail back to that night. A night that he wished he could forget. A thought that he wished could be locked away forever. He remembers the sight as he looked into their eyes—the utter betrayal.
The smirk of mischief and evil as the one and only person he ever could love has turned against him. The moment when he got stabbed in the chest, too close to his heart. And in that moment, he had to choose selfishly in a way he never wanted to.
And that choice was his life over theirs.
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You didn’t know what to say at the moment, Katuski just dropped the biggest bomb you had the burden of holding. Stammering with your thoughts, you say the first thing that comes to mind. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, Katsuki…”
“I would’ve never known–”
“It wasn’t for you to know; I don’t even know why I told you that,” he said to himself. You softly smile at his harsh words.
“Well, not to toot my own horn but I’m your fiance,” you chuckled. Katsuki gives you a smirk before he looks at your hand. "Then, where’s your ring?” He asked.
“In my room, placed somewhere safe and out of harm's way!” you smiled.
"Well, I’m gonna need you to start wearin’ it more,” he retorted.
“I figured that after your little speech, you gave us away like you weren’t even trying.” You spat out sarcastically. “I didn’t even mention your name!” He raised his voice in protest. “Yeah? Well, I’m sure everyone connected the dots to a perfect fuckin T.” You spoke with a smirk.
"Well then if they decide to connect those lines to the press, that NDA will be there waiting for them to get bit in the ass,” he snapped back.
You laugh at his words before taking a final sip of your beer.
“Why did you choose to give yourself a chance with me?”
Oh, you were buzzed.
“You are a hero that’s supposed to date other heroes, top models, and superstars of your caliber. Why date some small-town secretary that doesn’t even fully have a quirk?” you spoke, just above a whisper. Scared of his next response. Feeling that as if you got the wrong response, you just might hurl all over him.
Katsuki lets out a sigh before he silently panders to himself. He was eyeing you up and down before he finally spoke with a smirk.
“I’m not sure, wishful thinking?”
“asshole”
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YAAAAAAAAASSSSUHU IM BACK IM BACK
I saw all your comments begging me to come back, next chapter when? next chapter when? NEXT CHAPTER NOW HOE
As you all might know now, I am a busy college student who finally has time to fantasize and write to my heart's content. SO YOU WILL BE GETTING MORE CHAPTERS OUT OF ME VERY SOON!!
Thank you all so much for the support, I love you all and hope you guys have an amazing read! Please let me know how I did in the comments. Comments and reposts are very much appreciated!!
— lovelyiida 
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❥: @xo-evangeline, @inlovewithteo217, @im-better-than-your-newborn, @nar00, @king-dynamight, @gold24fish, @xasilex, @the-queen-of-sorrows , @itgetzweird08 , @yoyosocks165 , @pebblepoop , @lovra974 , @bakugospartner , @gaby-11 , @akqsa-xxi , @jolynegf , @goldenglow149 , @aliruuiz , @zukowantshishonourback , @ilovedenk-i , @atsushiki , @smolbeanzzz , @lem-hhn , @stevenknightmarc , @katsu-shi , @ryumiii , @idontevenknowlolls , @lyn07 , @kennshifts , @ackerman-suck-3-r , @alicen23 , @xasilex , @elegantvoids , @lowkeyremi , @plutounderbridges , @k0z3me , @thecurlyhairedgoddess , @sunyrose , @winterv-black , @chuugarettes , @kiarathace , @thisbicc , @thekookiecorner , @hyu-hl , @katsukisxslut , @optimisticprime3 , @cosmicbreathe , @yessimo , @sanemishina , @snxwycloud , @cosmic-rainstorm , @vinivave , @venus-xxoo , @lavender99 , @iluv-ace , @artfulthoughtsblog , @thatcreepycat , @prettylittleshady , @lavalampfullofsoup, @melodykittya , @bakugoiidaswaifu, @queendynamite2001, @starxsage, @mikestuffffs, @queendynamite2001, @kazuumii, @Minori-taiga1, @Liveurlifetothefullest
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sleepanonymous · 12 hours
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Okay so. I have so many people to respond to and I promise I will, just not tonight. I wanted to give a quick update about the ritual below the cut (because I know some people like going in not knowing the setlist.) Again, typing this all on my phone so my apologies for heavy typos and any incoherence.
As a preface I just got back to my hotel, showered quickly, absolutely fucking sobbed in the shower for like two minutes, and I’m now eating uncle ben’s ready rice straight out of the bag because I don't have a fork or spoon. If that doesn’t scream hot mess idk what would.
First things first: the security/staff at Arizona Financial Theatre are all amazing. Literal fucking angels. Two of them hung out with us in line all day, letting us go inside to use the bathroom and refill water bottles and the guys at the barricade were so friendly and chatty and also handed out water. Literally everyone was so helpful and friendly and nice and they deserve all the good things in life.
Second: Empire State Bastard really wasn’t clicking with me until I saw them live. They’re an absolute vibe live plus the drummer and bassist are both babes. The band were constantly thanking us for showing up early and listening to them (tbh the venue was only half full until about 10 minutes before Sleep Token went on). Literally seemed like such humble and chill dudes.
Third!!! I almost don’t even know what to say about Sleep Token. There’s sooo much I could literally rant for hours but I also need to sleep so I can drive to Albuquerque in the morning. I recorded 5ish songs I think? Mostly the TPWBYT songs but I did get the summoning too. No idea if the footage is any good but we’ll see tomorrow. I made it a point not to have my phone out after finding out the setlist because there was no way in hell I was missing TNDNBTG live while on barricade. Maybe I should preface this next bit with I one hundred thousand present realize this sounds delusional of me, but everyone on the barricade had their phones out and Vessel fucking focused on me because of it. He was singing one of my favorite sleep token songs directly to me! There’s literally nowhere else he could have been looking! he was on the edge of the stage looking straight down at me and we were pointing at each other and I’m fucking dying reliving it because I was singing so horribly and cringy back at him. Like I’m so sorry vessel but my life was changing in that moment. I became a new woman the second you pointed at me.
I kept my phone away for the first several songs tbh and he kept coming back to stand in front of me but never made such heavy eye/mask contact (until Euclid). I actually almost feel like I disappointed him when I did pull my phone out to start recording because he practically avoided me after that. its actually why I decided not to record Euclid, though I knew it was coming and it was the song’s debut. AND IT FUCKING WORKED!! He came back around and was singing to me again, same stance, same obvious eye contact except this time I was literally Ugly Crying™️ at him. Tears were streaming, I had one hand holding onto the barricade for dear life, and the other clamped tightly around my mouth ugly crying. Even my buddies and the security were concerned that’s how bad it was.
In all honesty I can’t pretend that it wasn’t “scripted” like the band hadn’t planned every move on stage beforehand. They first and foremost are performers and Vessel literally sings to every girl on the barricade right in front of him. But it also felt so special and I feel so bad for breaking down like I did 😅🤣😭😫🫠
Okay I need to stop ranting, I’ve been up for 20 hours and this is most likely incoherent anyway. I love all of you and I hope everyone who’s able to get barricade this tour gets to experience the same thing I did🖤🖤🖤
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svtoose · 14 hours
Text
Return From Tour ft. Jeon Wonwoo
pairing: idol!wonwoo x gn!reader
word count: 640
A + F : not really angst, more like sadness and comforting from reader
warnings: established relationship, pet names, live together
summary: wonwoo finally returns from tour and is really in his feels. idol life is tough
a/n : I feel like 1k words is the sweet spot but idk
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Today's the day you’ve been waiting for since three months ago. Today is the day Wonwoo returns from tour! Sure, you’re so proud of Seventeen's accomplishments but being away from your boyfriend for so long can be kind of tough.
You hadn’t really gotten much of the details on Wonwoo’s return, all you knew was that he’d be arriving at your shared apartment some time after 8:00 p.m.
While you were sitting on the living room couch, laptop in place and room temperature sleepy-time tea in hand, you heard the rattling of keys behind the front door which could only mean one things. Wonwoo is home.
You carefully lay the mug down on the coffee table as excitement courses through your veins. You’ve been counting down the days since his flight took off and now, he can finally be back in your arms. 
The door finally opens, revealing your boyfriend dressed in black sweats and his signature rimmed glasses. The second you make eye contact, you both speed toward each other in yearning. 
“Wonwoo,” You jolt in happiness, bringing your tall boyfriend into your arms for a quick kiss and strong embrace.
“Oh, baby. I missed you much.” His head was buried in the crook of your neck as you studied his uneven breathing.
“I missed you too, Won. Is everything okay?” You could tell something was off immediately. You slowly released him from the hug as he rolled in his carry on and shut the door while you kept his hand in yours.
You brought him over to sit on the couch next to you before he immediately broke down in tears. 
“Oh baby, it’s okay.” You pulled him into an embrace while you laid with your back again the arm rest. Wonwoo let everything out as you patiently waited while running your fingers through his locks. 
“I’m sorry… I know you were excited to see me,” his voice is low and raspy, but you can sense the guilt.
“You don’t have to apologize. I’m here for you, whenever you need me.” 
You continued to comfort your teary boyfriend, despite not knowing what plagued his mind. As his breaths became more even, you decided to inquire.
“Do you want to talk about it, Won? Maybe that’ll help.”
“Yeah….. I guess.” He whispered, still being held tight against your chest. You decided not to press as he stayed silent.
“Its just… being away for so long, being away from you, it’s exhausting. I get all of the stress but none of the love. At the end of every day, all I wanted was to fall asleep with the person I love but I couldn’t even do that. It was just really hard.”
“Aw. That’s really tough. I missed you too, so much, Won. I’m glad we’re together now.”
“Yeah me too. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there when you needed me.”
“You don’t have to apologize for that! You’re doing what you love an I understand that. ….That is if you still love it?”
He’s quiet for a few seconds, cuddling closer to you while you await his answer.
“I do love it. I do. I just forgot that sometimes, you know? It has some miserable sides to it, having to leave you being one, and that’s when I forget how much I love it.”
“I get it, baby. I’m here for you whenever you need me.” 
You continue to sit in silence, basking in each other’s presence like you haven’t been able to do in over three months.
After talking about things, Wonwoo seems to feel a lot better. You guys head to the bedroom together, getting ready for bed. Wonwoo tells you a bunch of stories from his tour while you brush your teeth and he un-packs his suitcase. You feel very relieved to see him back to his normal self and hope next tour will be easier for him.
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SORSHA!!! The fuck boy besties Lix & Ji????
Omg, I was talking about them being your besties I know in college maybe roommates but them being besties & fucking you dumb after meeting in a club!🫠🫠🫠
Definitely love your pov of it💯🤌🏽
🎀
Oh no I messed it up 😫😭😭😭 I’m so sorry I misinterpreted your ask 😔🥹 I feel so silly !!!
(Annonie is referring to this ask)
But now I’m having whole other thoughts!!!
Like the three of you live together as housemates. Jisung and Felix usually go out and pick up girls to bring back to the apartment.
It’s usually your chance to stay home, have some special alone time. They get back so late and they’re so preoccupied you could be painting the living room walls and they wouldn’t know.
So.. as usual when they’re out doing what fuck boys do, you settle on your bed in just your oversized tee. You tend to your own needs. Touch yourself, finger fuck yourself, use your dildo.
What you don’t realise is that Ji and Lix, for whatever reason, come home early (and alone).
They hear your whimpers. They wonder who you have in your room.
They sneak up to the door, it’s ajar, and see you fucking yourself slow and deep with your dildo.
Jisung and Felix are mesmerised as they watch your hips rock against the toy. They subconsciously lick their lips when they see your arousal coating it each time you withdraw it from your cunt.
Jisung whimpers. Fuck! He looks at Felix who is biting his lip hungrily.
Your eyes spring open and you lift your head to see the two men staring at your pussy.
“A-are you just going to stand there?” You pant. “I know you know how to fuck a girl good…”
Jisung and Felix look at each other.
“I hear how you make them scream…while I’m here… using a fucking…toy.” You’re actually pretty close to coming. Especially having your friends eyes on you.
Felix and Jisung exchange a knowing look, and saunter into your bedroom.
“Fuck, baby. Your pussy is so wet.” Says Jisung, not only from the visual, but also how loud the wet noises were coming from your cunt.
“Let’s take this shirt of, yeah? That way we can take care of you properly.”
“You always…always…take care of random girls.” You pant.
“We’re so sorry, baby. Me and Lixi are here now.” Jisung coos as he nestles alongside your now naked body.
Felix lies on the other side of you, and starts to caress your body. He sucks on your nipple as his hands roam your stomach. “What do you think about when you touch yourself.” He whispers.
Should you tell them the truth? That you think about being one of their hookups? One of their conquests?
“Hmph.” Jisung chuckles low. “I bet our pretty baby listens to us fuck girls and imagine it’s her pussy we’re tearing up?”
Your silence followed by a hard swallow gives you way.
Jisung winks at you. “Knew it.” He whispers as his hand reaches down to grasp the dildo.
You draw in a sharp breath and then a long moan when he takes over and starts fucking you with your toy.
Felix releases your nipple with a pop. “Does our good girl imagine sucking our cocks?”
“Yes!” You cry. “Wanna taste your cocks.”
Jisung pulls the dildo from your aching cunt and tosses it to the side, and you whimper in protest.
“Shh… you’ll be filled again soon enough, sweetheart.”
They pull you off the bed to kneel on the floor and stand side by side in front of you. You watch wide eyed as they peel their clothes off and the three of you are completely naked.
They are likes pair of fucking gods. Toned, slender, strong. The sight of their very hard, and surprisingly large cocks has you poor dripping, empty, cunt clenching.
“Is our pretty girl just going to look, or is she going to open up wide?” Felix says softly. “You say you want us. Show us. Show us just how much you have been thinking about our cocks.’
They step towards you and you reach out to take hold of them. You start with Felix, taking him in as far as possible, gagging a little with your overzealous enthusiasm, while you jerk off Jisung with you other hand.
Then you swap, eventually alternating between them several times.
“Baby, you mouth. Fuck it feels perfect.”
“Look how much she can take in.”
“Someone needs to fuck me.” You moan. “Please… fill me up. Make me your slut.”
The two men groan at your filthy request, moving you back on the bed.
Jisung lays on his back while you kneel between his legs and take him deep into your throat. You want to fucking choke on his delicious cock.
“Pop your arse up for me love… that’s it.” Growls Felix, digging his fingers into your hips and guiding the tip of his cock against your entrance.
“Ready?” It isn’t a question for you, but between Jisung and Felix.
Jisung tangles his fingers into the hair on the back of your head and lifts your head until just the tip is inside your mouth. Then, as Felix pushes inside of you, Jisung pushes your head down over his cock.
They fuck you like this. Every withdrawal from Felix, Jisung releases your head up. Every thrust into your cunt was mirrored with your head being pushed down all the way to the base.
They fuck you until you come all over Felix’s cock and Felix comes all over your back. Then they swap, getting hard again quickly.
“Baby, you feel so fucking perfect. Can I come inside you?” Jisung moans.
“Yes… please…” you pop of Felix momentarily.
“Oh fuck!” You cry as you come again, then feel Jisung spill inside you. Felix follows, coating the back of your throat.
The three of you lay in a tangle of sweaty limbs while you catch your breath.
“I think we need to stay in every night and fuck.” Declares Jisung.
You and Felix nod in agreement.
A/n I had to flesh this out!!! It’s rushed but I hope it still came out ok 😘😘😘
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@3rachasdomesticbanana
@palindrome969
@xxkissesforchanniexx
@chuuchuu1224
@fun-fanfics
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