#[ but then my mind went ':)' and then I did this ]

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 2

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Chapter Summary: You're anxious before your date.

Chapter Word Count: Over 3.1k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, stalking, coercion, threats (not against reader), creepy and unhinged behavior, flashback, possessiveness, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! Hope you lovelies enjoy and thank you for the feedback so far! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You loved working at the flower shop. Putting together beautiful arrangements and bringing joy to others made you happy. But today, the morning after that stranger showed up in your home, you weren’t fully alert as you went about your tasks. The air around you felt different, thicker. Flipping through the order book, you attempted to look busy instead of walking around in a haze.

Whenever you began to focus, your mind would drift back to Bucky Barnes and your upcoming date. You hadn’t told Addison or anyone else about it because what could you tell them? How could you explain your situation?

You hadn’t even slept in your own bed thanks to that man.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed seated on the couch once Bucky left your place. You’d have to move eventually, but you were replaying what happened in your head like a song on repeat and tried to make sense of it. A man broke into your home, but didn’t steal anything. Held you in his lap, but didn’t violate you.

No, that last part wasn’t true. That was exactly what he did. He violated your safety. And demanded a date with you.

You jerked when your phone dinged, but your heart only pounded faster when you saw a message from a new contact.

Bucky.

“I wish I could’ve stayed the night, but I’ll dream about you and count down the minutes until our date. Don’t forget about your gifts.”

He knew the date was on because how could you say no?

Your stomach dropped as you glanced down the hall. Wiping the remaining tears away, you got to your feet and cautiously made your way toward your bedroom. You weren’t expecting anyone to be there, but who knew what he did while you were at work? And what if he came back?

Would you scream for help or call the police?

“Just go in,” you whispered.

Pushing the door open with a shaky hand and flipping on the light, everything looked normal as you looked around and approached the bed. Everything except the garment and gift bag in the middle of it. They taunted you, daring you to look inside. At the very least, to read the small card on top of the bag.

You caught a small whiff of the cologne he wore as you picked it up and read the single statement.

“This is just the beginning, doll.”

The card slipped from your shaky hand. It would’ve been romantic under normal circumstances. You looked inside the gift bag next, but it did nothing to calm your nerves. Not only was it your favorite perfume as he stated, but it was the largest size available.

You unzipped the garment bag after and gasped at the sight of the dress. It was from a designer you admired, but could never afford. Simple yet beautiful in design, you had to stop yourself from running your hand over the fabric. Yes, it was a beautiful dress and it was just the right size.

But it came with strings attached.

“How?”

You half expected to see a blinking light when your eyes darted to the corners of your bedroom, but everything still looked ordinary. Nothing looked out of place. It didn’t stop your skin from crawling at the thought of him watching you. Because how did he know your size and the kind of perfume you liked? That you liked having a glass of wine when you took a bath? The password to your phone?

How did he know anything about you?

That was perhaps one of the most terrifying aspects about your ordeal: He was clearly powerful and connected, yet you didn’t know exactly what he was capable of or how far he’d go.

It took you a minute to type back a message to him. “Thank you for the gifts.”

A response came back almost immediately. Was he waiting by his phone for you? “Like I said, it’s just the beginning. I have another gift waiting for you, but you’ll have to wait until tomorrow for that one. It’s a surprise.”

You suddenly didn’t like surprises.

Could you accept gifts wrapped in pretty bows if it meant keeping those you cared about safe? Would you be a living doll to satisfy whatever craving he had that led him to you? At the very least, you’d have to play along for one night to try and get some answers.

“I’m sure it’ll be a nice surprise. Good night.” You sent, hoping he’d get the hint and leave you be.

“Sweet dreams.”

Grabbing a blanket, you made your way back to the living room and curled up in your oversized chair. There wouldn’t be any sweet dreams. Not tonight. Not with the way your mind raced.

Because who the hell was Bucky Barnes and why did he want you?

The bell over the door rang, pulling you from your thoughts and reminding you that you had a job to do. You blinked as a tall man with golden hair and bright blue eyes walked in. A new customer from what you gathered, and an intimidating one at that. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until you exhaled once he smiled in your direction.

“Hi,” you said, closing your book. “How can I help you?”

“I’m here to get some flowers for my girl,” he replied, the deep timbre gentle yet commanding. “No special occasion or anything. I just want to surprise her.”

A smile touched your lips. “That’s one of the best reasons to get someone flowers,” you said. You liked to imagine your future husband would get you flowers just because he felt like it. “Does she have a favorite?”

“Tulips,” he answered without hesitation. “Any color as long as they’re tulips.”

You stepped around the corner and led him to the premade arrangements. “We have this multicolored bouquet that she may like. Brightens the room and has an uplifting aroma.”

The gentleman reached out to touch one of the petals before he nodded. “She’ll love them,” he said more to himself than to you.

He sounded like a man in love.

“I’m sure she will,” you agreed, carefully carrying it to the counter so you could ring it up. Your skin prickled when you felt his eyes on you, but you told yourself to relax. This guy wasn’t like Bucky. You were paranoid after last night and he was likely watching just to make sure you didn’t drop the bouquet. “Will this be all for you?”

“Which one is your favorite?”

“My favorite?” You repeated as he waited for your response. The question surprised you, but you nodded to one of the recent arrangements you made. “It’s hard to choose a favorite, but I like stargazer lilies.”

You sometimes brought arrangements home for yourself since you couldn’t remember the last time anyone got you flowers.

“I’ll take those, too,” he said, going to get the vase himself. “I really appreciate your help.”

“It was nothing,” you smiled, ringing up the order. “And you made my job very easy, so thank you.”

“Your partner must feel very lucky to have you,” he said before you paused.

Biting your tongue, you stopped yourself from correcting him. You didn’t have a partner. A possible stalker? Yes.

His brows furrowed as he quietly paid. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

You shook your head and put your best customer service smile back on your face. “No apologies. I actually have a first date tonight. Maybe he’s the one,” you told him, the words tasting like ash in your mouth. “I hope your girl enjoys her flowers.”

He smiled back as he took the bouquets and receipt. “Me, too,” he said, something sparkling in his eye when he added, “Good luck on your date.”

The blonde left without another word, leaving you to grip the counter and wonder how the hell you were going to get through your evening.

You stood in front of your bedroom mirror hours later, admiring yourself in the dress. It fit you well. Beautifully, as much as you didn’t want to admit it. You spritzed yourself with the perfume too. Might as well use it since Bucky was likely expecting it.

The scent should’ve brought a smile to your face instead of tears to your eyes.

“Hey! Still on for hanging out tomorrow?” Addison messaged you as you checked the time on your phone.

You blinked the tears away and realized you hadn’t messaged her once today. You were afraid to. If you mentioned Bucky, it would tempt you to spill what happened since you hardly kept anything from your best friend. And if you told her what happened…

Bucky would know.

With a shudder, you messaged her back. “Yep! See you then.”

The tension in your body skyrocketed when your doorbell rang at 7pm, right down to the second. “Be right there!” You called, shoving your phone in your clutch before you took one last look in the mirror. What did it matter if you looked good or not? It was a forced date.

You exhaled as you opened the door and froze when you saw Bucky standing on the other side. You foolishly thought he wouldn’t show, but luck wasn’t on your side. The sharp, dark suit he wore and air of confidence he carried had your heart pounding in your chest. The glove covering his left hand somehow worked with the suit.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his gaze sweeping over you. Why did he look at you like you were something to be desired? “You are so beautiful.”

Butterflies filled your stomach despite your fear. If only he had approached you and asked you out like a normal guy. “Thanks,” you whispered, locking the door once you were in the hall.

Did he have your spare key or did he find a way to get a copy?

“I wore this suit to match your dress,” he said, giving you an expectant look.

The guy was actually fishing for a compliment. “And you look very handsome,” you said, a smile lighting up his face.

“Thanks.” He held his arm out, satisfaction filling his eyes when you took it. “I’m glad you said ’yes’ to this date.”

“I’m sure you would’ve found a way to convince me if I didn’t,” you told him, reminding yourself that accepting this kept your loved ones safe and sound.

“I would have,” he agreed, keeping you close as he led you outside to where a luxury car was waiting. The car likely cost more than what you made in a year. “But you saved me the trouble by agreeing like the good, smart girl I know you are.”

You didn’t thank him for the “compliment”.

Bucky didn’t wait for the driver to open the door, grabbing the handle and helping you inside himself. You slid across the seat and tried to keep your dress from riding up as he got in beside you. He didn’t allow you any breathing room as the glass partition went up and the car took off. You were alone with him.

He could do whatever he wanted.

“You can sit in my lap if you’d like,” he said to break the silence. “It’s nice and comfortable.”

“No thanks,” you said, glancing ahead at the glass when he took your hand. You’d been in his lap the night before and that was more than enough. “Doesn’t seem safe.”

“You can sit here after dinner then,” he suggested, smirking when you glanced out of the corner of your eye.

Your stomach turned at that. He mentioned it took everything in him not to drag you to bed. You believed him. How long would he hold out before he tried to make a move?

“Sorry I didn’t text you today. I didn’t want to bother or overwhelm you while you were working,” he continued, kissing each of your knuckles as you stared straight ahead again. “At least not right away.”

“How considerate of you,” you muttered.

He chuckled and pressed another kiss to your hand before he held it in his lap. You stiffened and for a moment you thought he’d put your palm to his crotch. You weren’t sure what to expect from him.

“Look. I want tonight to be good for both of us. I’m sure you have a lot of questions and I’ll do my best to give you answers,” he said, tucking a bit of hair behind his ear as he addressed the elephant in the room. “I know a lot about you, but I imagine you don’t know much about me.”

“No, I don’t,” you admitted. As tempted as you were to look up his name, you refrained and couldn’t put your finger on why. “If I ask you questions, will you lie to me?”

“I have no reason to lie.” He brought a gloved hand to your cheek and forced you to meet his gaze. Even in the dark of the car, you could see the want in his eyes. “I want you to trust me.”

Trust the man with zero respect for boundaries? Could you do that? “Addison’s bachelorette party was a month ago. Was that really the first time you saw me?”

“It was. Everything changed when I saw you,” he replied, moving his hand from your face down to your neck. Like he just had to touch you. “Though it didn’t take a month to track you down, it did give me time to do my research and find out everything I could about you. Where you live, where you work, your interests, your routine. I like to be thorough.”

You turned your head away when it began to spin, trying to understand how he sounded so casual in his admittance to stalking you. You also couldn’t keep looking into those blue eyes. They would drown you.

What you wanted to ask was if he was watching you in your home. But trapped in that small space with him, what if his answer freaked you out more? He said he wouldn’t hurt you, but would he keep that promise?

The question that came out instead was, “And you just decided during that time that you wanted me?”

Your eyes shut as his lips touched your ear. “I wanted you the moment I saw you,” he whispered, making you shiver at the feel of his breath. “And the more I learned about you, the more you pulled me in. I’m just a moth drawn to your flame. And you’re exactly who I want by my side.”

His words washed over you, wearing you down like a stone sinking in the water. It was too much. Too intense. “Where are we going?”

“Mmm. Our date.” You exhaled when his fingers brushed along your arm. “I thought about renting out a restaurant or taking you away to an island for our first date. Something intimate and private. Then I thought, what’s more intimate and private than my penthouse?”

“Your penthouse?” You asked, opening your eyes.

“Yeah, my home,” he smiled, either not noticing or caring when your eyes rounded. “It’s the best spot in town, of course. Can’t beat the view. And we don’t need any eavesdroppers now, do we?”

Your heart sank as you reached for your phone. People would at least be able to see you in a public place, but his home? That was like going into the heart of a lion’s den. It would be so easy to message Addison or Dana and ask for some sort of help without giving too many details. You could-

Bucky took the phone from your hand and tucked it in his jacket pocket. “You won’t need that tonight,” he stated, something in his calm tone telling you not to argue. “I have a chef preparing dinner and a dessert and I selected a nice bottle of wine for us to share. I also want to give you a tour after the meal since it’s going to be your home sooner or later.”

You choked on your next breath. “It’s what?”

“We’re here,” he smiled, terror gripping you when the car stopped in an underground parking garage. “You can ask me more questions inside.”

“Bucky, did you say this is going to be my home?” You pressed as he helped you out, having to rush to keep up with him as he pulled you to an elevator.

You hoped that wasn’t the gift he wanted to surprise you with tonight.

“Not right away, but yes. My place is a bit safer than yours and it’s close to my club and your shop. A win-win,” he said, scanning a key card before the doors opened. “Don’t look so surprised. Most couples live together.”

You refrained from telling him that you weren’t a couple. “I think that’s moving a bit too fast,” you said, your voice cracking as he pulled you inside, keeping you right beside him even though there was plenty of space to be apart. “This is only our first date,” you added, not wanting to upset him.

“That’s why I said it wouldn’t be right away,” he teased, pressing the button for the top floor as his other hand rubbed your hip. “But soon.”

You kept your breathing under control as the elevator climbed higher. The man had your future mapped out and you had only known him for a day. Was this some sick, elaborate game that he was playing to scare the hell out of you? Or had he convinced himself that this was romantic?

“I hope you like it,” he said softly as you stepped out together and walked toward a man who stood by the door. He was just as large as Bucky, but didn’t dare make eye contact with you as he opened the door and let you in.

The spacious entrance opened up to a large living space with high ceilings and marble floors. It was admittedly gorgeous and you hadn’t seen the rest of the place yet. But that wasn’t what caught your attention. It was the flowers in the middle of the table a few feet in front of you.

The coy smile on Bucky’s face made your blood freeze when you faced him. “Those are your favorite, aren’t they?” He asked.

They weren’t just your favorite flowers.

It was the same arrangement of stargazer lilies you sold to the blonde gentleman earlier today.

“I told you, doll. I know everything about you,” he began as the clutch fell from your hand and the door shut with a heavy thud. “And I have eyes and ears everywhere.”

Zero chill, lovelies. What's the surprise he has for you? How will this date go? And did you like the appearance from the man in the shop? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes #club owner!bucky barnes #club owner!bucky barnes x reader #soft!dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fic #james buchanan barnes #sebastian stan #bucky x reader #x reader #turn it up au

[iholdwhatican]

tension

part two to reunions - must read part 1 first!

pairing: art donaldson x reader x patrick zweig

length: 3.2k

author's note: this took wayyyy too long for me to do yall, i'm so sorry. these two have a tight hold on me and i'm in the trenches. i've got some good stuff lined up tho, and i'm super excited to write it heeheehee :) also smut in the future will be much longer and much more detailed, just fyi

tags: y/n is art donaldson's wife ; birthday party ; art is down bad ; patrick wants y/n ; possessive!art ; the boys are fighting ; no use of y/n ; pining ; sexual tension ; sugar mommy y/n? ; unapologetic flirting with your bff's wife at his birthday party

warnings: sexual content, p in v, not super detailed but still there!

summary: the stressful night of the birthday party continues, and you find yourself pinging between art and patrick like a tennis ball. how the hell did you get yourself into this?

originally posted by iholdwhatican

It took four minutes and 36 seconds of Art and Patrick being alone outside before the anxiety became too much. Your dress was too tight against your skin and the chatter of the guests rattled in your skull. Your mind replayed the anger on Art’s face over and over, convinced that he’d direct it at you the moment he came back in. And if you were being honest, you couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss. 

Your blood boiled with the ferocity of it, and an ache in your core begged for another taste. 

Another three minutes and 18 seconds passed while you downed half of your second glass of wine. You made conversation with a few people who caught your eye, making sure all the food and drink were up to par. Not that you really could care about that right now. Your mind was a jumble of thoughts about the two men on the balcony. 

Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick

“You look like you’re gonna puke.” 

For the second time that night, Patrick Zweig’s voice made you jump. 

You looked at him, catching sight of that damned smirk that made your stomach flip, and furrowed your brows. One quick scan of the room came up empty for your husband, forcing the anxiety in your chest to worsen. 

“Where’s Art?” You asked, not missing the way your voice wobbled slightly. 

“Relax.” Patrick responded, resting a hand on your shoulder, “He went to the kitchen, I think. I didn’t kill him. And he didn’t run for the hills either.” 

You decided not to comment on how easily he’d read your worries without you saying anything. For some reason, you were an open book to him. 

A deep sigh left you. You licked your lips anxiously- which immediately caused Patrick’s eyes to fall on your mouth. 

“What happened out there?” 

The man gave you a shrug, letting his hand fall back to his side, “Nothing, really. We just talked for a bit. He told me I could stay, as long as I stopped flirting with you.” 

“So does that mean you’re going to stop?” The idea made you slightly unhappy, which in turn filled you with guilt. Why were you so excited by his flirtations when you had a wonderful, loving husband who treated you like a queen? 

But then Patrick grinned, and you knew the answer before he said it, “Well, I’ve never been one to do what I’m told.” 

A smile grew over your lips, and you tried to hide it with an eye roll, “Why don’t you mingle? Try some food. I’m going to find my husband.” 

He didn’t miss the enunciation you put on ‘my husband’, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened as you said it. You didn’t give it time to linger, instead turning away and moving towards the kitchen. 

You knew the look Patrick had in his eyes. You’d seen it a dozen times in Art’s. On the court, over a board game, in all sorts of scenarios. And every time, even now, the look sent a chill down your spine. 

That expression was clear, resolute competition. 

Just as Patrick had said, you found Art in the kitchen. With his back to you, you had a perfect view of his tense shoulders and hanging head as he poured himself a glass of water. He was all wound up, and you knew it was your fault. Now it was your responsibility to fix it. 

You stepped up behind him, sliding a hand between his shoulder blades. He didn’t hesitate to lean into the touch, a subconscious reaction. He knew it was you just by the feel of your hand on him. And, even if he might be furious, he still found comfort in it. 

“Hey…” You breathed, leaning to the side to meet his gaze. Art looked at you over his shoulder, a half-smile quirking his lips up, “How are you doing?” 

“Hey.” He responded, turning and sliding his hands over your hips. Your chest pressed against his as he leaned down and placed a kiss on your hairline. Then he just lingered there, breathing in your smell, “I honestly don’t know. I just- it was so weird to see him.” 

“Yeah, of course it was.” Your words reached him in a soft, comforting tone. The guilt of putting your perfect, doting husband in this situation was enough to make you feel like you had barbed wire around your neck. You had to pay penance- somehow. You rubbed your hand in circles over his back, “I’m sorry, sundrop. I don’t know what I was thinking when I invited him.” 

Sundrop. A nickname that went way back to the early days of your relationship. Art was an energetic puppy dog with a halo of golden curls and a smile that made your insides feel hot. He was what you pictured a personification of the sun to be, hence the pet name. He pretended not to like it, but his eyes always sparkled a certain way when you said it. 

Art pulled his head away to peer down into your eyes, his own pensive and confused, “No, baby, don’t be sorry. It was a great fucking surprise. Just… a surprise.” 

You shook your head. He was so fucking good to you, “You’re allowed to be mad at me.” 

“Mad? At you?” In one quick motion, he picked you up and set you on the counter. Your legs opened for him without hesitation, allowing him to slot right in between them, “I don’t think that’s possible.”

You fought the blush rising in your cheeks and rolled your eyes, “You think too highly of me.” 

“No. Never.” He replied instantly. He kissed your chin. Then your jaw. Then your neck. Then down your throat, “As far as I’m concerned, you’re God.” 

“Art-” You argued, though you weren’t sure what for. You tilted your neck back and offered yourself up to him. 

“I could spend my life on my knees for you and be happy.” His words were muffled as he mouthed at your neck, sending shivers down your spine. This, combined with the kiss from earlier, was making you ache with need. You were half-tempted to end the party early and take your pretty husband to bed. 

You bit your lip when he ran his tongue over a sensitive spot above your collarbone. If he wasn’t in between them, you’d be squeezing your thighs together. 

When Art pulled away, his eyes had darkened. Dilated pupils and heavy breaths told you all you needed to know. He was just as fucking horny as you were right now. His hands held your hips tighter. 

“Do you think we’d be left alone long enough for me to show you how much I mean it?” He asked. It was almost as if he were begging. As if he couldn’t bear the idea of doing anything other than dropping to his knees and devouring you. 

And God, when he looked at you like that, you had no choice but to say yes. 

Unfortunately, fate intervened, and you were kept from making a scene at your husband’s birthday party. 

“Hey, you two, quit snogging and come entertain us!” One of Art’s tennis friends called, sticking their head into the kitchen. The big grin on their face told you it was just teasing, but you still felt your face burning with embarrassment. 

“It’s my birthday, let me do what I want.” Art jeered right back, lifting you off the counter and back onto your own two feet. You laughed airily at the comment, feeling more light-headed than anything. 

Before following his friend back into the action, he whispered a quick, “Later, okay?” to you. And then he left you standing in the kitchen- touch-starved, foggy-headed, and excruciatingly aroused. 

It was then that you realized you didn’t even get to ask him what happened with Patrick.

Upon re-entering the party, you found yourself taking note of two things- or rather, two people. One, Art- conversing with some friends from the foundation with a big grin on his face. Two, Patrick- having his fill of finger foods from the refreshment table. He was alone. And though you tried to fight it, you found yourself gravitating towards him. 

“Do they not have food where you’re from?” You teased, falling into place at his side. Your gaze slid over the spread before flicking up to his face. 

You’d caught him mid-bite, and he attempted to swallow quickly and regain his composure. Something warmed slightly in your chest. Endearing. 

“Well, I’m kinda… in between places right now.” He explained, tongue stuck in his cheek to clear out residual bits of food, “And there’s never stuff as good as this.” 

You let the compliment slide away, instead focusing on his more troubling response, “Are you homeless?” 

“What? No.” He chuckled, as if the question were preposterous, “I go all over for tennis. It’s just easier to stay on the move.” 

You raised an eyebrow, “And on off-season?” 

Something in his expression darkened, only for a moment, and then he was back to cocky smiles and overwhelming confidence, “I’m too busy to care about that. And what’s it matter to you, anyway?” 

“I’d like to think I’m a good person.” You said, plucking a snack off the table and popping it into your mouth. You chewed it halfway before continuing, “And a good person worries if they think someone they care about isn’t doing well.” 

Patrick grinned at you for five long seconds. And it took him actually saying the words to realize where you’d slipped up. 

“You care about me?” 

Shit. You had not meant to say that. Why was this man so damn good at getting every little thought in your head to spill out of your mouth? 

“If caring about you means I don’t want you sleeping under a bridge somewhere, then sure.” 

“Okay, I would never let it get that far-” 

“I wanna help.” 

He blinked, “Help how?” Briefly, very briefly, you thought of your bed. Your comfortable, spacious bed, perfect for three individuals. You could picture it- you, safe and sound and nestled between the two men. Art, your lovely, obedient husband on one side, letting himself love and be loved. And Patrick on the other side, nice and cozy with a roof over his head and a full belly. 

The image flashed in an instant, and you were left with hollow, heavy guilt. You swallowed. 

“How much do you need?” 

“Huh?” You rolled your eyes at him, “How much money do you need? To keep you afloat for the next little while. And I’ll send you home tonight with leftovers.” 

Patrick let the words wash over him, slowly smiling as they did. He took a step towards you, close enough that one tiny shove would have your bodies pressed together. You could smell him, all sweat and cigarettes and woodsy cologne that made your head spin. You’d been wound up all night, and this was absolutely not helping. 

“You gonna write me a check? Use your hard-earned money to get a practical stranger a hotel for a couple nights?” He murmured, heavy on the charm, “What would your husband think?” 

He knew he’d gotten under your skin. He knew what he was doing. He was fucking enjoying this. 

You tried to hold your ground, looking up at him through your lashes, “It’s his money, actually. He makes sure I never have to work unless I want to.” 

“Guess he treats you pretty well. And look how you’re taking advantage of it.” His hand lay on the table next to yours, his fingertips nearly brushing the skin of your wrist. How bad would it be if you closed the gap? 

You bit your lip, “You’re allowed to turn me down.” 

“I don’t think I’d ever turn you down, Mrs. Donaldson.” 

Something about that title, something about the way he said it, made your blood run hot and cold at the same time. It reminded you of the myths of sirens. Beautiful monsters of the sea that used their voices to bring others to their demise. Talking to Patrick had that same type of allure, and the sense of danger. 

“Then tell me what you need.” 

“What do you think I need?” 

Oh, you could think of a few things. But you could also feel a pair of eyes on you, and you knew exactly who they belonged to. Part of you wanted to tempt him, see if you could get another reaction like out on the balcony. However, you quickly shot the idea down. Not right now, not in the middle of a crowded party.

Lips curving into an innocent smile, you pushed yourself a step back from him, “I think you need a nice place to sleep. And a few good meals. And maybe a hug.” 

The sudden switch-up took Patrick by surprise, but he handled it smoothly and responded only a beat later, “You’re offering?” 

“At least for the first two.” You didn’t know what you’d do if you were in his arms. With the way you were feeling now, with two glasses of wine in your system, your boundaries were getting blurrier and blurrier. How humiliating. 

His bottom lip jutted out into a pout. Which unfortunately dragged your gaze right down to his mouth. It took you a moment too long to meet his eyes again. 

“What, we can’t hug? Don’t you consider me a friend?” 

“I do.” You shrugged, tucking loose hair behind your ear, “Maybe I’m just not a touchy person.” 

A lie. You knew it, and you could tell by the look on his face that he knew it too.

“Yeah.” He smirked, sounding the opposite of sincere, “Art’s wife isn’t a touchy person. Sure.” 

You needed a cold shower. Or to go have some one-on-one time with your vibrator. Or maybe move to the seaside and spend your days going mad in a lighthouse. You weren’t sure. All you knew was how increasingly hot you were feeling. 

“Speaking of Art, go talk to him. Try to make amends. Meet some of his friends.” You suggested, glancing over at your husband. He wasn’t watching you anymore, at least not straight on. But he had a radar when it came to you, and he was very diligent in keeping tabs. No matter what.

“You trying to get rid of me?” Patrick asked lightly. No heat behind the words. 

“Oh, yes.” You admitted, placing your hands on his shoulders and pointing him towards Art, “Find me again before you leave and I’ll have your check.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned at you over his shoulder, sending a wink before sauntering off. 

Finally, you felt like you could actually get a breath in your lungs. 

The party had ended. Guests went home, Patrick got his check and headed to a hotel you recommended, and you and your partner left all the cleanup for the morning. You barely gave it a second glance as you went up to bed with him, your hand held tightly in his. 

Art fucked you like a starving man that night. You barely got into the room before his lips were plastered on your skin, his hands unzipping your dress with quick precision. He was usually much more reserved, but something about tonight had made him ravenous. And he wasn’t the only one.

You ended up on his lap; bare chests pressed together, skin sweaty and breaths heavy as you rolled your hips into him. His hands clutched your thighs, keeping you close, fingers pressing into the flesh. You pulled on his hair and his head immediately fell back. As if he were a puppet for you to position and use however you wanted. His eyes looked up at you with a fire in them you’d never seen before, but the adoration, the reverence, was all too familiar. 

Your name fell from his lips over and over again like a prayer. The single word weaved with threads of devotion, possessiveness, desire. A song joined in chorus by whatever nonsensical phrase entered his head. I love you, so perfect, all mine, please, please, please. 

He was claiming you. Marking his territory in his own special way. It didn’t matter that Patrick wasn’t here to see it, or that he probably would never even know. As long as Art could tell himself that you were his, he’d be okay. Jealousy was a good look on him. 

You could feel your core tighten with each and every movement of his hips against you. You weren’t going to last much longer. But by the look in your husband’s eyes, neither was he. 

Parted lips claimed yours in a messy kiss, tongue sliding into your mouth and exploring every open space. Then you were being flipped over; back pressed into the mattress as Art rocked into you with reckless abandon. He intertwined his fingers with yours and pinned your hands above your head without ever breaking the kiss. 

You lasted about thirty seconds. Finally, the tension in you snapped and your orgasm washed over you in waves, leaving you limp and trembling. Art finished only a moment later. You could feel him pulsing inside of you as the aftershocks slowly faded away. The room reeked of sweat and sex and your head was spinning. 

Art, your precious, dutiful man, rested his head on your chest as he attempted to catch his breath. You could feel the tickle of his lips kissing your skin, the soft squeeze of his hands on your hips. You ran a hand through his damp hair, fingers massaging his scalp. 

“I love you.” He murmured against your ribs, right over your thundering heart. He said it like he couldn’t quite believe he was allowed, like he didn’t believe you were here, that you were his. 

Dark hair and cigarette smoke flashed through your mind. Almost-touching hands and paper checks. 

“I love you.” You responded, kissing his hairline, “Happy Birthday, baby.” 

The only response you got was a tired, happy sound and another kiss to your collarbone. A quick adjustment later and the two of you were tucked under the blankets, your head on Art’s chest and his arm around you. Neither of you cared enough to clean yourselves up or to put pajamas on. Art was already softly snoring next to you, and you could feel your eyelids getting heavy.

As you listened to the baddump of his heart, a strange thought flitted through your mind. You’d just had the best sex of your life, and it was because of Patrick. You weren’t the only one who’d been thinking of him while in the throes of passion. The notion made something strange twinge in your gut. 

And then, like he’d somehow read your mind, your phone lit up with a text. 

Patrick Zweig: You free for lunch tomorrow?

***

Taglist: 

@jxssimae

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#challengers #challengers movie #challengers 2024 #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig x you #challengers fic #challengers fanfic #art donaldson x patrick zweig #challengers x reader #challengers x you #art donaldson x reader x patrick zweig #tashi duncan #charly writes!!

[woso-dreamzzz]

Knight

Katie McCabe x England!Reader

Summary: You yell at your sister

"Well, well, well," Beth teases the moment she comes in from the showers. Her finger waggles in your direction. "If it isn't the knight in shining armour!"

You sigh, rolling your eyes.

"I think you silenced the whole stadium," Steph agrees with a little laugh," I've never seen you speak so loudly before!"

"Please stop talking."

"I mean, once second Katie's getting tackled and the next you look like you're about to clobber your sister!"

You huff, pulling on your shirt. "She shouldn't have come anywhere near Katie. It was reckless and stupid and Katie could have been seriously hurt!"

The image still replays in your mind. It stayed running on loop throughout the whole of your shower.

You don't know what was up with your sister this whole match but she clearly had it out for Katie. Wherever Katie was, so was your sister, sliding in on Katie's ankle time after time after time.

You'd had enough around the seventieth minute when Beth slid in and sent Katie tumbling to the ground.

And, yeah, maybe you yelled. Maybe you practically silenced the stadium with how loud you'd done it and maybe the almighty Spurs captain that was your sister, was greeted with the reason why everyone always compared you to Mum.

Mum was quiet. Some might even describe her as meek but she could yell. She rarely did but when it happened, everyone knew they had gone a step too far.

You'd always been like Mum, quiet enough that it was almost to your detriment, nervous enough that you didn't fight your own battles sometimes. You looked like her. You sounded like her.

You had her disposition and attitudes.

The colour had drained from Beth's face the moment you raised your voice, echoing across the pitch from your goal at the Arsenal end. She went as white as her shirt and backed up immediately...

And you had gone back into your goal silently.

You should have known no one was going to let it go.

Least of all, your actual girlfriend who, surprisingly, hadn't joined in on the teasing but had stayed stuck to your side ever since the match ended.

She'd shared a shower with you. She's changed with you and now, she was sat in her cubby waiting for you to finish braiding your hair out of your face.

"I think it was very sweet," She says finally, an easy grin on her face," Truly a knight in shining armour."

"Don't you start," You mutter, grabbing your back and throwing it over your shoulder," This is already embarrassing enough. I need to apologise to Beth."

"You don't need to apologise to me!" Arsenal Beth laughs and you roll your eyes again, sticking up your middle finger as you walk out with Katie.

"You looked good though," Katie says as soon as you're out of eavesdropping range of the changing room," Defending me and all that."

You huff. "Beth shouldn't have been going in on you like that and that ref was useless."

"But, still, the shouting? I don't think I've ever heard you shout like that before. Not even when I made your hot chocolate with water."

You stamp your foot childishly. "Hot chocolate made with water is sacrilegious and not acceptable in my house."

Katie rolls her eyes, an arm thrown over your shoulder. "Your sister really got what was coming to her. It's nice that I'm not the one coming away with the yellow today."

"Don't worry," You reply wryly," I'm sure you'll make up for it next match."

"We still up for dinner tonight?"

"So long as Beth keeps her feet to herself."

It was tradition now that at the end of a London Derby, you would go and have dinner with your parents and your sister. Katie too, though she had been a more recent addition since you had started dating.

"Your sister isn't crazy," Katie laughs," But don't worry." She winks at you. "You'll keep her in line, my knight in shining armour."

"Don't call me that," You say with no real bite in your tone," Because then everyone else will call me that too. I've only just shed Pigeon. Don't bring in another one."

"Don't worry," Katie says, sliding into the driver's seat," I won't let anyone else hear me use it."

"Katie-"

"Except maybe your sister but I can't control that."

"What did you say to her today?" You ask, staring out the window as Katie drove to the usual restuarant.

"To who?"

"To my sister. She isn't that aggressive usually and I know you, Katie. You're a shit-stirrer."

"I didn't!"

"I know you," You repeat," Come on, I won't be mad."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Katie sighs. "I made a joke."

"A joke?"

"Yeah."

"About?"

"Our sex life."

You sigh, a little laugh bubbling out from your throat. "Oh, Katie. Not again."

#woso x reader #katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

[adrienneleclerc]

TikTok Gone Viral

Paring: charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina reader

Summary: Y/N used a specific TikTok audio and it goes VIRAL

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: I had this audio in my head so like why not. It’s my version of making Y/N a “PR nightmare” as other fanfic authors put it

Y/N was scrolling through TikTok while Charles was washing dishes, as he should because she cooked, and came across a video of a girl using a Megan Thee Stallion song with the caption “ovulation week be like”. She thought it would be fun to use the same audio so she put her phone against the napkin stand they have in the counter and started recording.

I need *points to self* this pussy *points down* on his *points to Charles off screen* nose *points to her nose* I spread it, I spread it, I pose *random dancing*

However, she did not see Charles move into the frame as she danced because she had her head down and just posted it without looking back at it. She did caption it “needing my boyfriend a little too much lately” and just exited TikTok. Their relationship has always been private, no one really knew Charles was dating anyone after Alexandra and they’ve only been dating for a few months. At least it WAS private.

“What were you filming, Mon ange?” Charles asked.

“Just a silly little TikTok, muñeco, don’t pay mind to it.” Y/N said.

“Alright well I’m done with the dishes, you want to watch a movie?” Charles asked

“Can we watch ‘Nosotros Los Nobles’?” Y/N asked.

“Whatever you want, Mon ange.” Charles said.

“Get the chips.” Y/N said as she got up from where she was sitting to head to their bedroom for a blanket while Charles gets chips from the pantry. They both headed over to their couch, sat down, Y/N put the blanket over them, and Charles gave her the bag of chips and passed her the remote. “Okay, it’s has English subtitles, so I hope you find this movie funny.”

“I’m sure I will.” Charles said. Sadly, both fell asleep on the couch, charles was cuddling Y/N. However, with Charles’s phone charging in his bedroom, he missed multiple missed calls from the Ferrari media manager, Fred, Pierre, Arthur, and his other friends. Y/N also has missed calls from her friends

The next morning, Y/N woke up on top of Charles. She shook him awake.

“Muñeco, we fell asleep on the couch, get up.” Y/N said and Charles woke up.

“Mm, what time is it?” Charles asked.

“I Don’t know, my phone is charging in the room.” Y/N said, getting off the couch to get her phone.

“Can you get my phone too?” Charles asked.

“Sure thing, muñeco.” Y/N went to their bedroom and unplugged their phones and she was shocked to see how many missed calls both of them received. “Charles, you have so many missed calls, here.” Y/N handed him his phone.

“Thanks Mon ange.” Charles said. He unlocked his phone and called the media manager. “Hello?”

“Charles I’ve been trying to reach you yesterday, your girlfriend posted something on TikTok.” The media manager said and Charles was very confused.

“How do you know I have a girlfriend?” Charles asked and Y/N’s head popped up.

“What about me?” Y/N whispered asked and Charles made an “I don’t know” face.

“The whole world knows she your girlfriend because you’re in the background of her now VIRAL TikTok. I’ll talk to you later.” The media manager hung up and Charles looked at Y/N.

“Ma Belle, my beautiful beautiful girlfriend, what did you post on TikTok last night?” Charles asked. Y/N took out her phone to open up TikTok.

“Just a silly TikTok using a trendy audio…oh shit, I gained SOOO many followers.” Y/N laughed and Charles took her phone to click on her profile and see the video he posted. His eyes widened when he saw himself appear on screen. The video had 9.1 million likes, 60.7 thousand comments, 231.8 thousand saves, and 76.3 thousand shares. Y/N looked over his shoulder. “Oh that’s why the video went viral. Oh I’m so sorry, muñeco, I didn’t know you appeared, I didn’t rewatch the video before posting, are you in trouble?”

“I don’t think I’m in trouble but now I have to introduce you as my girlfriend.” Charles said. “We are no longer private, Mon ange.”

“Shit, I was doing so well without the hate comments.” Y/N pouted and Charles chuckled before kissing her.

“I hope you’re ready, Mon ange.” Charles said before he grabbed his phone to record a video. “Hello everyone, this is my girlfriend, Y/N. We have been dating for a few months. Say hello, Mon Chou.” Charles said, pointing the phone to Y/N.

“Hello” Y/N waved shyly. Charles pointed the phon back to him.

“We met at her job, she’s actually a bartender, it was after my break up with Alex, we talked, we hit it off, we started hanging out, and now we’re dating, not that it’s any of your business. But I like her a lot and we’re happy together.” Charles stopped the video and posted it on his Instagram.

“You really had to say I was a bartender?” Y/N asked.

“Well you are a bartender, mon coeur.” Charles said.

“Watch them say I’m only after your money.” Y/N said.

“But we both know that’s not true, your salary is pretty good AND you get tips. I am glad I don’t have to hide you anymore though, I can finally post pictures of us together.” Charles said, kissing her.

“Well I’m glad you’re happy. Do you have to go to maranello?” Y/N asked.

“Nope, you want to go out today? We could go on the yacht.” Charles suggested.

“Ooh, a picnic on the yacht?” Y/N asked,

“Yep.” Charles said.

“I’m gonna start cooking.” Y/N said already looking in the pantry to see if they have anything to make. Charles just looked at her with love in his eyes, now the whole world knows he has the cutest person as his girlfriend.

The End

Hope y’all liked it, I found this very fun to write. Also, is there a market for Logan Sargeant x Hispanic reader fanfics?

#hispanic reader #latina #hispanic #tiktok gone viral #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

[sickslimez]

STILL IN LOVE! #8 — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…

INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

“Fuck,” Toji grunted before letting out a deep sigh, sweat dripping off his skin as he placed the weights down on the floor. He looked around the room, glancing outside the window.

“That was three more than the last time,” Gojo spoke with a smirk, leaning up against the wall. He took a sip from his water bottle before speaking again, “who’re you tryna impress?” He teased.

“No one. Just tryna get back into the gym.” Toji grabbed his water off of the floor along with his towel, wiping the sweat from his face. Gojo causally walked over towards Toji, standing over him with his arms folded. “May I help you?” Toji glared at the white haired man. As good of a friend gojo was to Toji, he was also very annoying at times, which eventually he had to get used to.

“You never told me how your talk with y/n went? How is she anyway? Single? Not single? Just wanna know when I can make my move.” Gojo quirked a brow, clearly trying to get a reaction from his friend.

“Very funny. She’s doing just fine.” Toji stood from his seat, pushing past Gojo and walking out of his gym room towards the kitchen to grab a small snack. Gojo trailed right behind him, laughing.

“And?” Gojo snatched the box of granola bars from Toji’s hand, slamming them on the counter as he waited for more of a response. “Come on man, I want the details!”

Toji rolled his eyes with the shake of his head, snatching back the box. “We talked about us as parents and our kids. That’s it. What more do you wanna hear?” The crinkling sound of a wrapper filled the silent kitchen.

“That’s it?” Gojo’s brows furrowed, genuinely confused. Toji nodded in response, chewing on his food. “You two didnt have sex?” Gojo questioned, eyebrows now raised in surprise. “Not even a kiss?”

“Nothin. Just a hug and a see you later,” Toji explained.

“Holy shit! You two are actually over. Wow, I never thought I’d see this day come,” Gojo scoffed, grabbing a granola bar from the box. “Have you met or seen her new man?”

Toji shrugged. “No, not really. I’ve seen him, but I haven’t properly talked to him. Don’t think I want to. I want her to be happy, she deserves it. I just can’t stand seeing her happy with someone else. Is that wrong of me? I still get jealous, possessive. But it’s no longer my place to say anything.”

“Who are you and what did you do with Toji?” Gojo had a scowl on his face. Toji let out an airy laugh, shaking his head at him. “It’s weird seeing you all…mature.” Gojo shivered before taking another bite of his granola bar.

“I know. I’m still getting used to it myself.” Not a second goes by where you’re not on Toji’s mind. He thinks about what you’re doing, how you’re doing. He wants to text you, see you, hear your voice, touch you again. He hates that it has to be this way now, but it’s for you, for your family.

Though he has these thoughts in the back of his head, imagining you forgetting about him, acting like he doesn’t exist anymore, you getting remarried to someone that isn’t him. He’s scared of fully losing you, losing his family. You and the kids are the only thing keeping him together, giving him hope that things we maybe work out in the future. But every now and then, he sees those flowers on your table, the kiss your shared with him, the smile on your face when you hugged him. It haunts Toji.

“I forgot to ask, how’d your talk with Toji go?” Kento questioned, his arms snaking around your waist as you wiped your makeup off in the bathroom mirror. He peppered kisses down your neck as he waited for your response.

A smile crept on your face before speaking, “it went well actually. No argument. He was actually very understanding.” You softly smiled, continuing to wipe the makeup off. Of course you wouldn’t mention how Toji practically told you he was still in love with you, held you in his arms while you cried into his chest. It still felt like you smell his cologne in your nose each time you took a deep breath.

“Well, that’s good, right? Now you won’t have to deal with him anymore,” Kento chuckled, pulling away from you. Your brows furrowed at his comment, something in the way he said it didn’t sit right with you, but you decided to ignore it. “He seems like a pretty shitty person, but who am I to judge. I’m just glad you’re doing better, sweetheart.”

You turned around to face the blonde haired man with a puzzled look on your face. “Yeah, who are you to judge?” You asked, tossing your makeup wipe down on the bathroom counter. “Me and Toji may have not had the best relationship towards the end and we may not agree on some things, but I do not need you coming up in here and bashing my children’s father to my face.”

“Woah, woah, calm down, I didn’t mean it like that, okay? I’m sorry, it just came out wrong.” Kento grabbed onto your hands, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles. “I just seen how much he’s put you through and I don’t like it.” You pulled your hands from his, leaning Nanami with a slightly shocked expression.

“That is not how you meant it. Calling him a shitty person? Really? He’s a good dad, takes care of his kids, he cares about the people in his life, Kento.” You started to get defensive. Toji had his bad moments, every one does, and your relationship showed that side of him, but you also saw the best of him too. You knew deep down Toji was actually someone trustworthy, a good person at heart.

“Yeah, like the way he cared about you towards the end of your marriage?” Kento questioned.

You stared at him, unable to form words, trying to process the ones that just came out of his mouth. “What did you just say?”

Kento stepped closer towards you, realizing what had just slipped from his mouth, an apologetic look on his face when he saw the saddened look in your eyes. “I’m sorry, I—”

“You have no fucking right to talk about my marriage with him. Just because I told you what happened doesn’t mean you know the whole story, you understand? He was my husband, he’s the father of my kids! How fucking dare you? Get the hell out of my house.” Anger lined your tone. You never thought that someone like Nanami would ever judge someone’s character, let alone, speak about them in such an ill manner. He seemed understanding, open to the whole situation, even offered you advice—which you took.

“Y/n, I didn’t mean to upset you. Forgive me. You’re right, it isn’t my place to speak about your marriage. I just thought—”

“Let me make this clear again…get out of my house, please.” You sharply inhaled, eyes fluttering shut as you tried to control your anger. And to think you were going to have a nice night while the kids were at Shoko’s and you had the house to yourself. You stood there looking at the tiles of the bathroom floor, Nanami stepping out of the room to grab his things. A shaky breath rattled through your body as tears began forming in your eyes, but just as quickly as they came you wiped them away even faster.

The front door shut, leaving you in complete silence.

Toji rubbed the towel over his wet hair, sweats hanging low on his waist as he walked into the living room to settle down for the day. He grabbed the remote, turning on the tv to find an interesting moving to watch before bed, choosing between horror or thriller. “This is same shit as the other one,” he spoke to himself, sucking his teeth.

Toji’s phone began vibrating as he clicked through the movie selections, not bothering to look as he picked it up. “What do you want, Gojo?” Toji asked with an unenthusiastic tone.

“Toji,” you sniffled. He immediately sat up, eyes going wide at the sound of your voice.

“Y/n? What’s wrong? Are you okay? The kids okay?” He asked with panic, standing to his feet.

“The kids…the kids are fine, they’re with Shoko.” You could barely talk, trying to control your emotions.

“What’s wrong, mama?” Toji questioned, walking over to the front door to slip on his shoes. “What happened? Talk to me.” He opened his front door, walking to his car, unlocking it.

“Can you just come over? Please?” You asked.

“I’m already on my way, okay? Stay on the phone,” he demanded. The sound of your cries made Toji fill with worry. You wouldn’t tell him what was wrong or what was going on, but he’s never driven anywhere else faster before. “I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay.” You nodded as if he could see you.

Toji didn’t even turn his lights or tv off. Hell, he can’t even remember if he locked his front door. But at this point he didn’t give a damn. All he knew was that you needed him right now. He wasn’t going to leave you like he did all those times before. “I’m around the corner, be at the door.” Toji hung up the phone as he turned down your street, slowly breaking as he pulled up to your house. He noticed how there was only your car in the driveway.

He saw your front door open, the light from the house illuminating your figure as you stood on the steps. Toji quickly got out of the car, rushing towards you. He could hear you crying the closer he got. You reached towards him with open arms, Toji took you in his, nearly out of breath. “Mama, what’s wrong? What happened?” He asked, soothingly rubbing your back.

“I’m sorry for calling so late,” you sobbed.

“No, no, shh, come on, let’s go inside.” He noticed how you were only in your nightgown in the cold. Helping you into the house, he locked the front door behind him. He stood there with you in his arms, embracing you, comforting you as you cried. “I’m here, baby,” he said softly.

“I just…we got into a fight…and I started drinking and I—I can’t stop crying. I needed you,” you explained, tears rolling down your cheeks. Toji could faintly smell the alcohol on your breath as you spoke. Toji wasn’t going to intrude on your business when it came to your new relationship, but if he had to guess, the argument was pretty recent.

“He didn’t touch you or anything, right?” Toji sternly asked. You immediately shook your head no. A weight of relief lifted off of his shoulders at your answer.

“I’m sorry for calling you so late, Toji. You didn’t have to come I was—”

“I don’t care about that, okay? I don’t want you to be alone while you’re feeling like this. Not anymore. Let’s go.” He guided you towards your bedroom, the plush carpet under your feet as he sat you down on the bed. You finally stopped crying, wiping the tears off of your face as you sat there to collect your thoughts. “I’ll be back.” Toji felt a tug on his hand as he went to step away, looking back to see you staring up at him.

“Stay.” It almost looked like you were begging him. Is this what you were like all those years ago? How he just ignored you? How could he do something like that to you? You squeezed his hand tighter as you crawled into the bed, pulling him with you. Toji reluctantly followed, but still gave in. His arms wrapped your body, pulling the blankets over you as you snuggled into him. You inhaled his scent, hugging onto him like you never wanted to let go. “Don’t go,” you mumbled against him.

His fingers ran over your skin. “I won’t, mama. I’ll be right here when you wake up.” He kissed the top of your head. Toji laid there as you fell asleep his arms, bedroom light still on, his hair still damp from his shower. He doesn’t know what to think right now, lost in his head. Was this real? Or were you just drunk? He doesn’t want to think about it too much, but yet he does. Will you hate him when you wake up? Scold him, yell at him? God, he hopes not.

“I love you, Toji.” Those three words made his heart sank, his movements came to a halt.

She’s drunk. She’s doesn’t mean that. Don’t read too much into it. This will never happen again. It isn’t real.

It takes everything in him not to say those three words back. He doesn’t want to give into something that he knows won’t even be a second thought to you the moment you open your eyes again. His jaw clenched as he stared at your bedroom wall. “Just sleep, baby,” he quietly spoke. He slumped the lump in his throat, continuing to trace patterns on your skin.

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#☆—sickslimez #anime #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji fushiguro x you #toji x y/n #toji fushiguro x reader #toji angst #toji fushiguro angst #toji x reader angst #toji fushiguro x reader angst #toji x you #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader angst #jjk angst #jjk x you #toji fanfic #jjk fanfic

[lordprettyflackotara]

problem with you || chris sturniolo

smut, 18+ minors dni. tw: subby chris ;), mommy kink, just a tiny lil slap, overstimulation. ps; do yall want me to finish the knowing series?

You couldn’t find it within yourself.

Chris Sturniolo had taken three years of your life, putting you through hell and back every waking moment. Admittedly you both were toxic, the two of you always at each other’s throats. Typically the sex made up for it, his cock turning your brain to mush. To a point where you couldn’t even remember what you had been arguing with him about.

It was a repetitive cycle, one you finally decided to break. There wasn’t a specific event that triggered it. You had just finally decided enough was enough. You were done allowing him to make you feel jealous. Or anxious. Or crazy. Chris Sturniolo wanted a sex robot who felt nothing at all. Anytime you presented any emotion, he made you out to be crazy. You couldn’t take it anymore.

Three months had passed, Chris goddman Sturniolo invading every deep dark corner of your mind. The problem wasn’t necessarily Chris himself. It was the fact that no matter what you did, you couldn’t get him off of your mind. No matter who you went on dates with, fucked, or cuddled with. Chris’s voice still lurked in the back of your head. Questioning that if the man beside you could treat you like he could. He was a parasite. He had left a mark on you, one you weren’t sure you could get rid of.

It’s what led you to his front door, knocking on the cherry oak wood. Matt opened the door, his eyes widening at the sight of you. “Oh um, hi,” He greeted awkwardly. Matt had always been this awkward with you, even when you and Chris had been dating. “Hi Matt is Chris here?” You asked. Matt nervously glanced behind him, like he was looking for backup. “N-no,” He stuttered. You raised an eyebrow before turning to the triplets driveway. “Thats not his shitty Toyota right there?” You questioned, pointing at the black car.

“Well um yeah I guess it is. I just haven’t seen him,” Matt said, stumbling over his words. You sighed. “Sorry Matt but I have to do this,” You apologized. You shoved past him, the brunette pressed against the front door as you stormed inside. You knew where to go, heading directly upstairs to Chris’s room. Despite what his fans believed, you knew that even though it was a Friday night, Chris was boring. He preferred to stay in playing video games and eating disgusting food combinations. You reached his bedroom door, contemplating knocking.

You decided against it, pushing your way inside. Chris sat in a beanbag chair in front of his tv, a bulky headset on his head. “Yeah?” He greeted, not looking over at you. Once you didn’t respond, he glanced over and realized it was you. “Jesus Christ,” He muttered. He took one side of his headphones off, allowing him to hear himself. “Matthew! Stop letting random bitches into our house!” He yelled. You crossed your arms, glaring at your ex boyfriend. “What was I supposed to do? She barged in here,” Matt yelled from downstairs. Chris audibly scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Really?! Are you gonna let our fangirls in here next?!” He yelled back. You walked over in front of his tv, planting yourself in front of it.

“Hey hey what the fuck are you doing? I’m in the middle of a game?” Chris hissed. Matt yelled an argument, loud slams from Nicks room shutting both of the brothers up. “Shut the fuck up im rewatching the titanic and you bitches are being annoying!” Nick boomed. You assertively continued to block Chris’s view, his attention now centered on you since the argument had subsided. “What do you want?” He questioned. You watched him shove off his headset, then setting his xbox controller aside. “I want you to explain what you did to me,” You say. Chris’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Dude what?” He replied.

“Don’t play coy with me. You’re really fucking up my life and I need you to stop it. Whatever Voodoo curse you placed on me needs to be reversed. Now,” You said threateningly. Chris stood up from his beanbag, walking over to his window. You knew what he was going to do, his hand slithering into his wooden stash box. “I didn’t curse you. Not my fault I’m just the best you’re ever going to get,” He shrugged. You watched him place a joint to his lips, flicking a lighter and igniting it. You stormed over to him, swatting the joint onto the floor.

“Hey! What the fuck is your problem?”

“You! You’re my problem! You’re constantly on my mind! All of the time! Do you understand how obnoxious that is?” You exclaimed. Chris’s frustrated expression fell, his gaze studying you. “Seriously! It’s like i’m cursed,” You sighed. You looked down at the floor, feeling yourself getting emotional. Chris put a supportive hand on your shoulder. “Hey don’t cry it’s okay, it’s not your fault,” He cooed. You sniffled and ignored the tears flooding your waterline. “You’re right. It’s not my fault. It’s your fault!” You snapped, pushing his arm away. You shoved his chest, backing him against the closest wall.

“Ugh! I could just fuck you up for what you’ve done to me,” You seethed. You buried your knee in between his legs, your body threatening to knee him in the balls. Chris looked down at you, blood rushing to his cock. He gulped as you glared up at him, pink flushing his cheeks. You tilted your head to the side. “W-what? What are you-” You began, before an all too familiar thing poked your leg. You looked down, your eyes widening. “You’re such a sick fuck,” You murmured. You pressed your knee against his crotch, a whimper escaping his lips.

“Awe do you like this?” You asked mockingly. Chris had never felt more flustered in his life, his face turning tomato red. “Y-yeah,” He mumbled. You brought your hand to his crotch, rubbing his shaft through his sweatpants. He let out a small whine, grinding himself against your hand. “Feels really good,” Chris told you. You swallowed, your mouth running dry at the sight of him humping your hand. It was pathetic really. Not his desperation, but the dampness you felt soak your panties at the mere sight. You should hate his guts. You should be stabbing him to death by now, not seconds away from blowing him.

“If we do this i’m in charge. You’ll sit the fuck down and take what I give you,” You said sternly. Chris’s eyes were fluttered shut, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. “Christopher, look at me,” You ordered. Chris forced himself to look at you, meeting your firey gaze. “Do you understand?” You questioned. Chris watched as you slowly dragged down his bottom lip with your thumb. “Yes mommy,” He whined. The words had escaped him before he could realize what he had said. Your eyebrows rose in surprise, a cocky smirk dancing across your lips.

You grabbed him by his shirt, shoving him onto his bed. Chris gave you a lustful smile, his fingers going down to pull the hem of his shirt over his head. You landed a sharp slap against his cheek, an electric shock was sent down Chris’s spine as he looked up at you. “I didn’t say you could undress yourself, did I?” You asked. Chris shook his head no. You planted one knee on the bed, your small hand wrapping around his throat. “You gotta be a good boy for me Christopher or you’ll never get to cum,” You purred. You slithered your hand to his face, stroking the red handprint on his cheek lovingly. You had never been this rough with Chris before, usually the roles reversed.

Usually Chris would be the one playing with you like a ragdoll, your core aching to please him. Yet as he stared up at you with puppy eyes, the tent in his pants completely visible, you felt a sense of power. It wasn’t nearly enough to makeup for the way he made you feel, but for the moment it was enough. “Yes mommy,” Chris whined submissively. You shoved his shoulders back, his back hitting the bed as you dropped to your knees. You pulled his sweats and boxers down, his aching cock hitting his stomach. You grinned as you licked up his shaft, erupting a groan from the brunette.

“I don’t think you deserve it. Why don’t you go ahead and start begging and i’ll think about it?” You told him with a devilish grin across your lips. Chris bucked his hips upwards, licking his lips nervously. “My fucking- please. Please please please mommy. Wanna be your good boy,” Chris whined. Teasingly you grabbed his shaft, stroking it slowly. “Thats not good enough. Now hurry up and beg before I change my mind and go make Matt feel good instead,” You threatened. You knew Chris always felt intimidated by his brother. That he feared Matt would steal you from him one day.

“Fuck! Mommy please. I’ll do whatever you want. Just please don’t stop. Mommy-” Chris panted. You began to pump your hand faster, the brunettes head falling back. He allowed his eyes to flutter closed, whines and whimpers escaping his lips. You continued to jerk his cock, your spare hand cupping his balls. “You’re such a pathetic slut. Letting me play with you like this,” You began, jerking his shaft faster. Chris bucked his hips the faster you went, biting his bottom lip. “How would Tiffany think of you if she saw you like this?” You asked. Chris couldn’t form a response, your words and hands sending him onto cloud nine. Tiffany was his new play thing of the month. The blondes name made you so bitter you could spit.

“Mommy- fucking shit, let me cum, please,” Chris pleaded. A sadistic idea crossed your mind as you looked up at your ex lover. “Yeah? You wanna cum? Are you sure?” You asked. Chris nodded profusely, forcing himself to prop himself up on his elbows. His ocean orbs met yours, his gaze alone pleading. “Yes, please!” He whined. You could feel his thighs trembling ever so slightly, his cock beginning to twitch. “Go on then, cum for me,” You purred. Your words made him fall back onto the bed, his hips bucking as he came. His seed dripped down onto the base of his cock and your hand, coating it. With hazy eyes he watched as you licked your fingers clean, his heart racing.

With eyes he swore to be demon like, you kept eye contact as you licked up his shaft. “W-what are you doing?” Chris stuttered. You licked the cum off of his cock, his shaft remaining at half mass. “I asked if you were sure you wanted to cum. You said yes,” You replied nonchalantly. Once his cock was cleaned, you took his tip into your mouth. You ran your tongue up and down his slit, the brunette whimpering. “I’m sensitive mommy-” Chris blabbered. You grinned as you lowered yourself onto his cock, bobbing your head up and down on his shaft. Chris couldn’t control his sinful moans this time, his slender fingers gripping at the sheets. He was sure his moans were echoing throughout the house, but he couldn’t find it within himself to care.

You began to deepthroat him, the noises of you slightly gagging only making Chris harder. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck!” Chris whined. His eyes screwed shut as he braced himself for another orgasm, his thighs beginning to shake. You licked the underside of his shaft as you sucked his cock. You were determined to drain him for every drop. You could feel his cock twitch again, your eyes watching his face intently as he fell apart for you. “Oh fuck! Mommy!” He cried, his seed spilling down your throat. You swallowed every drop of his cum, pulling off of his cock. “It’s quite pathetic you came that fast,” You spat. Chris was in a blissful state of euphoria, feeling dazed.

You climbed on top of him, taking off of your shirt. “W-what?” He murmured. You grinned at his pupils blew larger with lust as he eyed your bare breast. “You’re so selfish, only thinking about your own orgasms,” You purred. He watched as you slid off your shorts and panties. Harshly you grabbed his face, forcing his lips to pucker out like a fish.

“Now why don’t we put that pretty tongue of yours to use?”

#chris sturniolo x y/n #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut

[mrsmothermaximoff]

Missed me?

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

Pairing: Stepmommy Wanda x f!reader

Tags: Stepmom x stepdaughter, fluff, daddy issues, kissing, smutty smut, more smut, fingering, oral sex, legal age gap, virginity loss

Summary: Y/N's back from college and finds out her stepmother may have missed her just as much as she did

"Your turn" Wanda's eyes went wide, "My turn? Already? S-Shouldn't I do a bit more for you first?" Her anxiousness grew rather quickly, and it was easy for you to tell with the way she batted her eyelids hard and fast, and seemed to want to look anywhere but your eyes. You kissed her face softly, placing both hands on the sides of her head, "You've taken care of me for so long Wanda," she relaxed at your tone "it's my turn to take care of you." Her body shivered at this new exciting feeling of being given attention, she's never experienced anything like this before.

"Lay down." She falls back softly on your old mattress as you lower down on her body, kissing every spot you can reach. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and she gripped onto you tightly. "So beautiful" you repeated continuously, completely wrecking any insecurities she had of her body's age. "I love every single inch of you Wanda, you're so pretty, and so fucking sexy." Every word that fell off your tongue pulled her further and further from reality. You placed your hands around her waist and gently rubbed your thumbs across her clit. You couldn't hear her moan, but when you looked up she was gripping the sheets with desperation and hunger, holding back a scream you know would have surely woken even the drunkest version of your father.

"f-fuck oh" She she whined just below a whisper. "You're doing so good my Wanda" You whispered gently to her while she tried her absolute best to be quiet. "Are you-" She quickly cut you off "Fuck Y/N yes I'm ready I've been ready please I need you" You paused for a moment at her plea, then feverishly attacked her pussy with your warm desiring mouth, so anxious to please your mommy. "f-ahh-fuck me y/n fuck umh" incoherent whines and moans slipped past her lips as she held tightly to your head and began to grind against your face. You didn't mind of course, you would do anything to get this pretty lady all worked up. You slowed and carefully pushed one finger inside her entrance, and the moan she let out was almost musical.

You covered her mouth, picking her up swiftly and taking her downstairs. You laid her on the couch, "You're being too loud mommy" All it took was hearing you call her mommy one more time before she was pushed roughly over the edge, screaming as you rushed your hand on her mouth to silence her as best as you could. "Fuck" You whispered, feeling unbelievably turned on by the way she couldn't contain herself and quickly pushed your finger back into her.

She let out a silent scream and you continued devouring her. Her moans only steepened, and you pushed in another. "h-hol-fuckahhh" She cried out in such utter bliss. You licked stripes up and down her aching pussy that throbbed desperate pleas. It wasn't until you finally stuck your tongue inside of her that she let out every ounce of arousal she had built up with you, screaming and moaning your name while you smiled, pressed against her. You pressed one last chaste kiss against her core and rose up to kiss along her neck and collarbone, while she held you tight recovering and panting. "My Y/N, I love you" Your eyes welled up and heart suddenly began attempting to run a marathon. "I love you, my Wanda." You shared a warm and tender embrace with her for a few moments, before lifting her in your arms and walking her back upstairs to bed. You turned the lights off and laid her gently in the sheets, snuggling up to her, "So," You began, as she looked up at you curiously, "Missed me?"

Taglist;

@alexawynters @flositaa

#mommy wanda #stepmom wanda #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda x you #wanda #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff imagine

[pholla-jm]

Would You Still Love Me...

🌻🌼⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰🌼🌻⌍

IMAGINE: WOULD YOU STILL LOVE ME.... GENRE: FLUFF characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Mihawk, Law warnings: not proof read.

🌻🌼⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰🌼🌻⌍

Luffy:

It was quite normal for the both of you to ask silly questions to each other. However, one question has been itching at the back of your mind lately. 

“Hey, Luffy?” “Yeah, what’s up!” He bounds over to you. 

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?” 

Luffy’s eyebrows furrow at your question. “Why would you be a worm?” “Well let’s just say I wasn’t born a human. But a worm instead.” 

“Uh…” Luffy trails off, and you could basically see the gears turning in his head. “Is there an island of worm people?” “No, normal worms… from the ground.” “Well how would I know you?” “I.. I don’t know! You just know it’s me.” “If I knew you, then that must mean that someone turned you into a worm! So yes, I would love you in the meantime. Then I would beat up the person who turned you into a worm and make you turn back into my (y/n).” 

He stands proud at his answer and you couldn't help but laugh. “Okay, thank you Luffy.” 

Luffy grins even wider at your praise and you could tell that he was cheering himself on from the inside.

Zoro:

“Hey, Zoro.” 

“Hmm?” 

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?” 

The sound of the weights hitting the ground causes you to jump a little. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask him as he looks at you with a blank face. “What are you up to?” “I literally just asked you a question.” 

“Repeat it.” 

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?” “Do you know how stupid you sound?” 

You frown at his words, and with a huff you stand up and get ready to leave the room. 

Zoro, surprisingly, sensed that you were about to get upset. He knew that if you got upset with him, then it would mean bad news for him and most of the crew for most of the week. “Wait, babe,” you stop at his words, “yes. I would love you if you were a worm. Even if it is stupid. I’ll make sure to take care of you.” 

A bright smile lit up your face, “awe. Thank you. I love you too.”

Sanji:

You knew without a doubt that Sanji would love you, even if you were a worm. 

But you still had to ask. 

“My love, would you still love me if I was a worm?” 

Sanji takes a deep inhale of his cigarette before blowing the smoke out. He looks at you for a couple of seconds. “What do you mean?” 

“Like, if I was a worm, would you still love me?” 

A smile crept up his face, “of course I would still love you, mi amor. I would have the best quality soil for you to live in. Make sure you get enough moisture to keep you hydrated and do any research possible to make sure that you survive.” Your heart soared at his words, “you’re too sweet.” “Only for you.”

Mihawk:

To say that Mihawk has gotten used to your silly questions… well he would be lying. Every single day, he tries to prepare himself for anything that you might throw his way. But you seem to surprise him every single time. 

“Mihawk.” You call out to him and he could just tell by the tone of your voice that he was in for it. 

With a small sigh, he places down the newspaper, “yes, my dear?” “Would you still love me if I was a worm?” 

Mihawk could feel the frown pulling on his face and he had to bite his tongue to just straight out say no to you. Knowing if he did, then he would hurt your feelings. 

“No, that’s stupid. You being a worm would mean that we never would have been able to talk and I would have never gotten to like you for who you actually are.” 

You blink a couple of times, processing his words. You heard the word stupid, and your mind immediately went to annoyance that he would think that this was stupid. But his reasoning… It was almost sweet and reassuring. 

“Go on.” 

“How can I talk to you if you’re a worm? I fell in love with your personality, not your looks.” 

“Are you saying that I’m ugly?” 

Mihawk took a sharp inhale, “of course that is the only thing you take from the sentence. No, my darling, you are beautiful. Beauty that would even rival the gods.” 

“Hmm,” you eyed him suspiciously, “you’re safe today.” 

“Thank you.”

Law:

It was late at night, both you and Law were sleeping in bed. However, you weren't really sleeping. You were being plagued with nightmares.

So every now and then, you would toss and turn. That tossing and turning would wake Law up.

"Why are you up?" His groggy voice breaks the silence, almost scaring you.

You turn your head to see that he was staring at you. "What's bothering you?"

With a sigh, you tell him what was bothering you.

"I just... I just feel like if we were born as worms, you wouldn't love me. You wouldn't even marry me."

Law was speechless, he didn't think he had the brainpower to deal with whatever crazy notion was going on in your head.

However, the silence was just too much for you.

"Ugh, I knew it. Just forget it." you tossed the blanket, getting ready to leave the bedroom and head towards the kitchen.

Law stops you though, hand pulling onto your wrist to pull you back into bed.

Without wasting another second, he pulls you into his chest. "You're stupid and I don't even want to know why you are thinking about this, but yes. If we were worms I would still love you and marry you."

A blush accompanies your smile, "so you would marry me now? As we are?"

Law sighs and closes his eyes, "of course. Don't be stupid."

You click your tongue, "I love how sweet you are." "Yeah, yeah. Just go back to sleep."

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece fluff #op x reader #op fluff #luffy x reader #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #trafalgar law x reader #mihawk x reader #would you still love me if i was a worm

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for "using" a cucumber and putting it back in the fridge?

(🥒👌 to find later)

Please, I know it sounds nuts but hear me out. I feel awful and I need to know just how bad this is. Also, I intentionally left as much as possible vague as I am a minor and I do not want this to get removed for being too explicit. But the story will not make sense if I don't include certain things, please understand.

So I (16M) grew up in and currently still live in the bible belt, with extremely conservative evangelical parents. As a taste of what it's like, we have church 3 times a week, and church camp every summer. We are only allowed to access Netflix through a stupid content filter app and we can only use a restricted smart phone that is regularly checked at random by our parents. We get an hour and a half of computer usage every other day, and the internet on the computer is heavily filtered also. The only reason I have access to Tumblr and am able to post this now is because my best friend's older brother gave me his old android for my birthday a few years ago. His family is much more open minded, and I'm very close with them. I also think they have always felt a little bad for me with my family being the way they are.

I'm also gay. Obviously, my family does not know, and I intend to keep it that way. I won't go too deep into it, but it will suffice to say I struggled a lot when I was younger over this. The good thing is that in the last few years, I've been able to accept myself more and come to terms with what my own feelings about religion and faith really are. I came out to my best friend and his brother a little over a year ago, and they've been very supportive. I have yet to tell any of my other friends.

Recently, I've been trying out alcohol since my friends found a hookup. Something I have discovered is that I tend to get lewd feelings when I drink, which has nearly caused a few embarrassing moments around friends. Coincidentally, I have also been experimenting with... certain things. Being a minor, I obviously can't enter any of the adult stores around me, nor would I feel comfortable asking any of my friends to drive me there if I could. I also can't order anything online because my bank account is connected to my parents, and I don't have a shipping address I'm comfortable using for those items either. So instead, I use household objects that belong to me and can be sanitized easily. You might see where this is going.

Yesterday evening, I came home from best friend's house with a full bottle of wine in my backpack. We and a few other friends had already been sipping on a few beers that afternoon, and I still felt a little buzzed. After my family went to sleep, despite already having a little alcohol in my system, I proceeded to get wasted on this bottle of wine in my room. I don't have the clearest memory of all of this, but at some point, I got hungry and lewd-feeling. Went into the kitchen and, through some kind of thought process I can only imagine now, came back into my room with a cucumber. From the title of the post, you can hazard a guess as to what happened to this cucumber. Once I was done, I drukedly and quickly washed it in the bathroom sink and threw it back into the fridge. I went to sleep.

I started freaking out as soon as I woke up this morning. There were four cucumbers in the fridge, I was pretty positive at least two were going to be used for dinner tonight, and I had no idea which cucumber I did the deed with. To make matters worse, my mom was inviting the pastor of our church and his family over for dinner. I have practically no money currently, no license or vehicle, and no friends with vehicles free to pick up new cucumbers for me (and no reasonable explanation as to why I needed them to spot me for four cucumbers specifically). I also have no believable reason to give for why we shouldn't have cucumbers added in the salad mix. My mom knows I love them, and they haven't gone bad. Can't say I ate them because who the hell eats four raw cucumbers? And she'll interrogate both my brother and I until she gets a satisfying answer if I just throw them out. I didn't know what the hell to do about this and I was close to having a panic attack, so... I took a nap.

Evening came. Guests came over, dinner happened. We had porkchops with macaroni and side salads. Cucumbers were in the salad, and I along with pastor's family and my own, ate it like nothing was wrong. My parents, the pastor and his wife had an engaging conversation about politics, religion, and some mild church gossip after dinner. My little brother continued to read his book, and I had a very awkward and one-sided conversation about Young Sheldon with the pastor's daughter. Then they left. And I went to my room to mentally implode.

To say I'm horrified is a major understatement. I don't think anyone is going to get sick because I scrubbed all of the cucumbers with soap multiple times and cleaned the vegetable drawer with bleach when I woke up this morning. I guess I also don't know that the violated cucumber was one of the ones that was used for dinner tonight, but then it's only a matter of days until we have salad again, or if mom cuts one up for water. I've rattled my brain for any way I could get some new cucumbers without telling anyone the details of the event, but I have nothing. Don't even have the money, anyway. Gave up the last bit of cash I had for the damn wine yesterday, and I have $0.43 in total on my debit card.

Admittedly, there is a very small part of me that doesn't even really care if they have eaten or end up eating the damn thing. I can't stand my family. My parents are invasive, controlling and neurotic, and don't give a shit about how I'm doing in so far as it pertains to god and the church. I'm a little more sympathetic to my brother as he's been stuck in this hell with me, but at 13 he's already begun to regurgitate way more religious dogma than I ever did at his age. And I know for a fact that they would want nothing to do with me if they found out I was gay. They'd probably kick me out on the street and spit on me if I had to guess. But even still, this is only a small part of how I feel. What I did was still so gross, and no amount of animosity I have for them can change how mortifed I am. I do have at least a semblance of a conscience.

So...AITA for all of this? WIBTA if I did nothing about the other two cucumbers? Please help.

#aita #am i the asshole #unsanitary cw

[motelofmermaids]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ “accidentally” sending a nude to best friend’s dad! james kelly (+18)

cw: dddne, age gap (reader is in her early twenties, james is 41), daddy kink, breeding kink, sexting, dirty talk, some shaming/degradation. james’ daughter/your best friend is named leia… tehe! the bridgerton girlies that find the lil’ quote in this… i love you ♡︎ reader’s texts are in pink!

i genuinely hate this omg 😭

maybe you weren’t exactly the most honest girl. maybe you weren’t exactly a good girl, either. leia was over, passed out on the floor, having drank too much at the club. you barely drank anything, jus’ enough to have your skin burning—your mind filled with thoughts you’d otherwise push to the side. hiding them away, your stomach twisting in guilt. you slip off your dress, body adorned with nothin’ but a bra and panties. you glance at leia, frowning and eyebrows furrowing, before tiptoeing to the bathroom.

your reflection was nothin’ short of exhausted. hair tangled, eyeshadow nearly gone, mascara smudged. “god…” your phone lit up, and taking a sneak at the time, you sigh. fingers hooking in the hem of your panties, you pull them down—until your phone aggressively buzzed against the counter. stumbling, weariness weighing heavy on you, you reach to grab your phone. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck.

Hey, doll. Is Leia with you?

such a simple text. a simple question. yet you felt dazed, fingers hovering over your phone as you nervously chewed the inside of your cheek.

yeah! she’s sleeping over at my place for tonight!

okay, good enough… you set your phone down, mindlessly staring at your reflection as you unclasp your bra, letting it fall to the bathroom floor. before you could even turn, pajamas abandoned on the shelf, your phone went off again.

Thank you for letting me know so late.

Did y’all go out? Send me a picture. I know you both got dolled up.

you giggle, bending down to rest your elbows on the counter. considering your best friend’s dad to be your dream man was certainly somethin’ that’d get you a nice, toasty spot in hell. for years now, since your sixteenth birthday, you looked at mr. kelly different. and since then, you were enamored. he was the bane of your existence, the object of all your desires—his name the one that rolled off your tongue when you touched yourself. a sigh leaves your lips, your mind fogged. a picture? he wants a picture?

standing up straight, your eyes meet the mirror, tracing over your body. “okay,” you breathe out, fixin’ up your hair before opening the camera app. this was stupid—it was extremely stupid. stomach churning with guilt, the knowledge that your best friend was sleeping in the other room, blissfully unaware that you were about to send her father something that could either destroy everything or, in a delusional headspace, spark something… anything… it was sickening. but you were neither honest nor good.

you lean against the wall, your arm extended to get most of your body in frame. from your plump lips to your upper thighs, arching and manicured hand barely holding one of your perky tits, the camera sound went off. it echoed in the bathroom, an echoing bell of how impure you were. you were truly a horrible friend—and yet you sent it. you sent a nude to the man who practically helped raise you. “oh shit… shit!” you whisper-yell, eyes wide as you stare at the ‘Read 00:53” receipt.

he’s typing… and then he’s not. typing. not. this was too painful, it was fuckin’ torture. before you began typing out an essay in an apologetic desperation to keep james in your life, he replied.

What are you doing, sweetheart? Did you drink?

no!

i’m sober, i promise… it was an accident. i didn’t mean to send that.

Was it? Sending pictures like that isn’t very appropriate.

you stared at your phone, spacing out in terror. this was humiliating, a mistake. a 12am moment of weakness that consumed you, then spit everything back out, chewed up and mangled. everything was ruined, you had no excuse—you felt as if you were choking.

I really shouldn’t condone this, but you’re beautiful.

what? what?

Sweetheart… You know you’re my beautiful girl.

dizzy, you slide down the wall to sit down, legs suddenly too weak to hold yourself up. your heart flutters, his words tying your stomach into pretty, lil’ bows—tight and stealing away your breath. okay. you could do this.

you think so, jamie? i’ve always wished you told me that, looked at me that way

You’re dangerous. This conversation shouldn’t even be happening right now.

and yet you’re still replying to me

Don’t be a brat with me, doll. Does this make you feel good? To be flirting with your best friend’s dad and sending him such a filthy picture?

you squeezed your thighs together, letting out a shaky breath as you kept rereading his message. the wetness between your plush thighs forced a soft whine from your throat. opening your camera again, you take another picture. thighs spread, tight ‘n puffy cunt—glistening for him—barely hidden by your hand.

i think this one is more dirty

I thought it was an accident?

take the hint

Fuck this.

a minute turned to five very fast, all the heat drained from you—leaving you cold and hopeless on the bathroom floor. you didn’t know what to do, paralyzed as you stared unblinking at the wall.

Be a good girl and remove your hand.

what? this is the second time he’s left you disoriented, doe eyes wide ‘n lips parted. he only left you on read, wasn’t going to ask you twice. like the good girl you were—jus’ for him, for jamie—you took a picture of your cunt.

like this?

Yeah

Tight little pussy. Can you even fit a finger in there?

yes! :(

You’re so wet. Does this turn you on? Showing your pussy to the man who basically raised you?

mhm… really wet for you

daddy

your hand trailed up your body, nails tickling over your skin. fingers gently tweak at your nipples, a soft moan torn from your throat. the last time you called james ‘daddy’ was when you were ten, and now it was used in an extremely sick and twisted way. spreading your thighs further, your hand moved back down your body, reaching your cunt—your begging clit. you go limp against the wall when you finally touch yourself, eyelashes fluttering at the feeling, pretending it’s actually him.

Dirty girl

Can you show daddy more?

shakily, you recorded your sopping heat, fingers rubbing your clit. “oh… mmm,” it’s quiet, muffled—but you made sure that when he played it, he’d hear just how needy you were. like a fuckin’ slut. “daddy,” you tug your bottom lip in between your teeth, the hand holding your phone trembling. teasing yourself, you pull away completely. you wanted to please him, so you send the video before you even think about touching yourself again.

Fuck, you should be ashamed of yoirself

oh. was he…?

are you touching yourself daddy?

My little girl is so pretty

Cant be a fuckin tease n expect me to nof

Asking for this arent you?

yes please

need your cock. wanna be your good girl

Go on

Get off to the idea of your daddy fuckin you

wan you to

stretch me out n fill me up

jus love you so much jamie

you had to put your phone down, carelessly playing with yourself as you read james’ texts, an attempt to help you come. your heart pounded against your chest, all erratic and shy. something so licentious shouldn’t be making your cheeks heat up, shouldn’t let a honeyed smile adorn your plump lips. warmth brewed low in your stomach, your hips gyrating to chase the feelin’, phone buzzing with messages. your other hand quickly moved to cover your mouth, the noises leaving your lips too difficult to control.

Keep going. I know you’re close

You’re so good, always for me

I’ll fuck you how ypu deserve. Fill you up until you cant even think

So so naughty. Next time you see me you’ll get it. Whatever you want

I love you too angel

you moan into your hand, your hips jerking as you come undone. he hasn’t even touched you, and your mind was dumbed down into nothin’ but james. only james. your gaze shifted, phone automatically turning off, and you stared at the door with heavy eyes, eyebrows pulled together as you breathe through your nose. you were never a good girl, but if he says so—you’ll do anything to please him.

#kel’s concepts ♡︎ #this is my downfall #james kelly smut #james kelly #james kelly x you #james kelly x reader #james kelly is going to absolutely ruin you! #i can’t believe i’m actually publishing this #most likely going to delete 😔 #anakin smut #anakin x you #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader

[cbrownjc]

Hi there! I'm sorry if this feels super obtuse and it has been ages since I read the novels, BUT...

After this recent episode I was a little confused about what Armand had done to infuriate Louis and Daniel so much. If he simply wiped their memories so neither Louis or Daniel didn't remember everything that went down, that doesn't seem so awful, especially since what went down WAS awful. So I think I must have missed something substantial because I was distracted by my cat, or something. 😅

BTW I love your blog and all the fantastic insight you provide! I used to be ride or die with IWTV but haven't paid much attention to it in the last 15-20 years, so I'm finding it immensely helpful for getting back into the swing of things!

Hello!

So why Louis and Daniel are so angry at Armand isn't because Armand simply erased their memories. (And, to be clear, their memories weren't actually erased, but just clouded over and blocked). Armand rewrote them. Armand basically reprogrammed Daniel and Louis' minds after the OG interview, Louis' mind especially.

That was what that final scene was about, what it was demonstrating. The answer that Louis gave at the beginning of the episode, as to why Armand saved Daniel's life in 1973 was a word-for-word repeat of what Armand's own answer was at the end of the episode to that same question.

The answer wasn't something Louis truly felt wrt his own real feelings. It was something Armand put into Louis' mind to think and say about the incident after the events of it from Louis attacking Daniel on were blocked and clouded over.

As @virginiaisforvampires notes here, the way Louis speaks of Lestat in the OG interview vs the new interview is very telling wrt that reprogramming done. Yes, in the OG interview, Louis was talking down Lestat in spiteful ways, but it was all surface-level stuff. Just saying that the way Lestat spoke revealed how stupid he was and that he wasn't at all skilled when trying to play music.

That is all a far cry from the things Louis has said and spoken about in the Dubai interview about Lestat. Lestat's crimes, as they are being talked about in this second interview, are not just surface-level transgressions said to simply make Lestat angry and draw him out, as Louis was originally trying to do back in 1973. The crimes of Lestat laid out in the Dubai interview, in contrast, are very much there to justify the murder of Lestat.

Because without that justification?

Well, we see that starting when it comes to the false memory -- yes, false -- of Louis thinking Claudia couldn't burn Lestat. Louis thinking that -- that Claudia couldn't burn Lestat -- would take away Louis' guilt at having stopped Claudia from trying to burn Lestat if it was something they both couldn't do. Especially if the killing of Lestat had been justified.

But if there was no justification for killing Lestat? Then the reason Louis stopped Claudia from burning Lestat was because Louis knew that killing Lestat had been wrong. Louis knew it the night Claudia did it, which would be the real reason why he stopped her from burning him.

And because Lestat didn't burn, because he was still alive, that led to the events of the trial in Paris and what happened to Claudia there. And what is looking to be the show's version of the Merrick reveal about Claudia's true feelings wrt Louis. Which, in the book Merrick, the revelation of that is what sent Louis to try to destroy himself via sunlight exposure, as we saw him try to do back in 1973 -- which the cocaine and other drugs that were in Daniel's blood had Louis unable to either ignore anymore -- or lifted a veil that had been placed over his mind about it until then.

Do you see the cascade effect in all of this?

And look, maybe some will see what Armand has done here as not that awful, but Armand didn't do it just to try and protect Louis. That was very damn clear when he didn't relay Lestat's full "I love you" message to Louis after Louis' 1973 attempt to end his life. It's because part of Armand very much still wants to live with the illusion that he and Louis can be happy together, even after what happened in Paris and Armand's role in those events.

I've said before that Armand's flaw when it comes to love is that he will go way, way, WAY overboard to obtain or keep love. And this is all just, once again, him repeating that pattern. Armand rewrote Louis' memories of both Lestat and Claudia's actions all to try and assuage the true guilt and pain Louis has over everything that happened and Louis' own role (mostly due to his own inactions) in it all that has led to such suicidal guilt about it, but also because IMO Armand wishes to hide -- as much as he can -- his own role in everything that happened as well . . . and all of this so as to keep Louis by his side so that Louis doesn't leave him -- be it for Lestat, or even in death.

Armand isn't being altruistic in his reprogramming of Louis' mind and memories. Because really being so would have been not only telling Louis what Lestat was trying to relay to Louis back in 1973 but then probably having to let Louis go as well . . . let Louis go back to and be with Lestat, the person who Louis was trying to draw the attention of with that whole OG interview in the first place.

Honestly, I see the whole situation as kind of expanding on this line of Louis' in the book, as he and Armand are breaking up:

And when I came to Paris I thought you were powerful and beautiful and without regret, and I wanted that desperately. But you were a destroyer just as I was a destroyer, more ruthless and cunning even than I. You showed me the only thing that I could really hope to become, what depth of evil, what degree of coldness I would have to attain to end my pain. And I accepted that. And so that passion, that love you saw in me, was extinguished. And you see now simply a mirror of yourself.

With the rewriting/reprogramming of Louis' memories, this is very much what Armand has created with Louis in many ways -- a mirror of himself. The pieces of himself that Armand blocked and changed had Louis "knowing who he was" . . . but who that person is, isn't the real Louis. Just a reflection of the person who made those changes.

So yeah, that is where the anger is coming from. Moreso Louis than Daniel when it comes to the rewriting aspect of it all I'd say; Daniel is likely just angry that his mind was messed with in the first place. One thing you can say about Daniel is that he's brutally honest, even when it comes to his own foibles. He's the type who'd rather know all the horrible shit that happened to him, than not.

Anyway, I'm glad you like my blog and comments about the show, and I hope this answer explains some of it for you. 🙂

#Loustat #Loumand #Louis de Pointe du Lac #Daniel Molloy #Armand #The Vampire Armand #Lestat de Lioncourt #Claudia de Pointe du Lac #Claudia de Lioncourt #Claudia #Interview with the Vampire #amc iwtv #iwtv #Merrick #vc book quotes #vc book quote #iwtv book quote #iwtv spoilers #iwtv spoiler #iwtv meta #ask #ask and answer

[luvvixu]

mind over matter pt. 4

synopsis: witness how your marriage was bound to fall apart with you on the front seat and your husband gojo had missed the show—now, he gotta figure out the story on his own.

content: arrange marriage au, angst, husband!gojo, mean!gojo, mention of blood, strong languages, some unsettling scenarios, emotional trauma, read at your own risk

a/n: ok, im such a bad author now huhu, i always broke my promises about updating the new chapter :((( should've just wrote in advance but i'm afraid i don't have that enough free time oqsjjanswjaj anyways, here's the anticipated chapter!! THANK YOU FOR Y'ALL PATIENCE <3 MWUHEHEHHEEHHE

previous / masterlist / next

the next day comes and you've got yourself some visitors. megumi, yuuji, nobara, maki, and inumaki was in your room and they were all seated around you as you talk.

panda and your two third years were not around at the moment because this is a non-sorcerer hospital and people would freak out to see a big ‘talking’ panda. during your two third years, they were out of town and were on a mission but they still text you to get well and even send you some fresh flowers.

“wait, i still can't believe that he's your husband.” nobara couldn't explain his shock at the revelation. out of all, she didn't think that her goofy teacher was someone's husband.

you chuckled at her reactions as you turned your gaze on megumi, who's still his mouth hanging. “megumi, i thought you're getting a hint?” you tease the boy. although it was true, you actually thought he already had an idea because you've known him for almost his entire life and even once lived with you as a kid.

“no…” was only his answer.

“so, gojo-sensei was the one you're talking about when you said that he was a busy man. most of his job requires being out of town. but he never fails to shower you with love and he is making sure that you two would still communicate despite his busy schedule?” your eyes widened when yuuji literally just said what you had said from before, word-by-word!

“i—i supposed he is.” everyone in the room sweat dropped at your answer.

what do you mean you supposed?!

“y/n-sensei, is it okay if we ask your baby?” maki chooses the gentlest approach because she heard that post-pregnancy can make the mother quite crikey, sensitive, and is prone to depression. but to her relief, you respond to her warmly.

“oh, the baby is being treated since they're premature. i really can't wait to meet them once i get better. but right now, shoko was the only one who had seen my baby.” you smiled softly at the thought of your baby.

“gojo-sensei still hadn't seen the baby?” maki’s eyes went wide.

you nodded. “yeah, he said we should go together so i must heal quickly for that to happen.”

the door suddenly opened and it revealed your husband with food in his hand. you smiled at the packages not because you're hungry, but because you had finally persuaded satoru to go out and leave you even for just a few minutes.

how did you do it? well, you just give him an earful after what he did yesterday night and he's like;

“i don't know how you did it but you should've just gone to the convenience store or the hospital canteen just for an oatmeal and eggs. and look, i'm not upset over the fact that you just had the ‘very easy to get’ food delivered on this doorstep. what concerns me is you seem not to trust me very well to handle myself— well in fact i've been doing it since i was a kid and blah, blah, blah, blah…” it was your turn to yap but a little longer than he did. you even probably bought up some of his minor mistakes like not taking out the trash on random sunday night.

and he was like, “i'm sorry. i won’t do it again ( •̯́ ^ •̯̀)”

“y'all done backstabbing me?” satoru teasingly smiled at you all.

“oh, we're just getting started. so why don't you take a seat and hear us out?” you patted the empty space of your bed beside you.

satoru playfully huffed and gave the foods to his students and let them distribute it themselves. sitting beside you, he gave you the separate plastic with food and helped you feed yourself. the two of you had your moment with you telling satoru to just let you be and stop feeding you like a kid, but satoru was like nuh uh—and it goes on and on.

meanwhile, the students watch you two with surprise in their eyes. they still couldn't digest the fact that you two had managed to hide your marriage for like five years or so. and out of all spouses out there, they couldn't believe their eyes that you married a guy that is a total opposite of you.

“i still cannot really believe that you're married and have a baddie wife.” nobara almost never tears her gaze towards you two.

“yeah, much more is that they look so in love!” yuuji agrees to what nobara said as his words made you two stop bickering instantly.

like a cold water being poured, you two were suddenly experiencing a reality check that this so-called in love was very far from the two of you actually is. coughing slightly to hide his awkwardness and nervousness, he just let himself chuckle. while you? you're an expert at this, you maintain a smiley expression and wordlessly (and also forcefully) agrees to what the boy said.

“oh my, do we?” putting a hand on your cheek, you smiled with your eyes closed. your act looks so legit but satoru has seen this multiple side—he knew this facade was all fake.

maki suddenly puts herself into attention by calling your name. “anyway y/n-sensei, i've noticed you two don't have a ring—” before she could even finish her sentence, you already beat her to it.

“that's because the two of us, mostly him, are constantly fighting curses and both involve using our hands when we use our techniques. it would be risky to wear it and we're scared that we might get it lost or damaged.” you explain meticulously.

you watch the students agree to your explanation, while satoru is looking at you with meaning. you stared back at him too, hoping that he would get your telepathic message.

“alright guys, your y/n-sensei needs to rest now. we'll just see you guys soon or you can all just drop by tomorrow after your training.” satoru called everyone's attention by clapping his hands then started to playfully shoo the students.

you watch them pack their things and wave you a happy goodbye, in which you return their enthusiasm as well. when they all left, you let out a sigh and started to gently lie your body on the bed. satoru, who was done cleaning just now, sit at the end of your bed and carefully massage your legs.

“did you have fun with them?” you just lazily hum at his question and proceed to rest your eyes.

“i…i'm surprised you managed to convince them about our marriage.” satoru continued quietly.

opening one of your eyes and looking at him, you said, “of course, i've been doing it to a lot of people for the past five years.”

that alone made him shut up.

satoru looked down to his hands, which were still busy massaging your legs. you've noticed that his eyes were casted down and his behavior was somewhat familiar to you, he's feeling something that is related to guilt and regret.

clicking your tongue, you're in no mood to deal with his behavior today. so to find a solution to this problem, you just put yourself to sleep and let all of this just go on without a single care.

it has been two days and you're getting better day by day. today was probably the bestest day so far because you're about to finally see your own baby!

“calm down, mama. do you want your stitches to open again?” shoko holds your knees to stop it from shaking anxiously as you were currently sitting just right outside the neonatal intensive care unit (nicu) where your baby was.

you understand that the doctors need to prepare the room first before you all come in, but you wished that they speed it up.

“but sho, i'm finally seeing my baby!” you squeal at your friend who just ruffles your hair and tells you to be patient—in which you definitely can't.

meanwhile, satoru, who was standing beside you while you and shoko were sitting together, has been eyeing you since this whole waiting. he understands that you're excited about seeing the baby because he is too, he is excited. but he couldn't help but to feel a sensation that you would rather share your excitement with others than him.

he knows that he sounds ridiculous and undeserving to say that in the first place after what he did to put you through, but he still couldn't help it and he wouldn't even dare to say it to you.

the door of the nicu just opened and it revealed the doctor who was wearing protective gear to keep bacterias and viruses from entering the room and harm the baby. before he lets you all in, he first instructs you all to change the same gear as him and then proceeds to give you all some explanation in which you actively listen and take notes.

and after that, he finally lets you go inside.

the moment your eyes traveled on a crib, you saw your child laying down there with some breathing apparatus that is connected to their little body. you could feel your eyes swell with hot tears as you inch yourself towards the bundle of joy who's their crib was also protected with glass and only small holes on both sides were there.

satoru and shoko watched you with pure warmth at your sight—it was a nice scene of mother's love. finally, a tear escapes your eyes the moment you get a whole view of your child.

“isn't he pretty?” shoko said beside you, someone who you didn't notice had come near you.

you gasp, “he? m-my baby is a boy?” your cries go even harder, but it was just pure happiness. you couldn't bring yourself to tear your gaze away from your child even though he looks fragile for being premature but you love him dearly.

“can i touch him?” you look at the doctor who assisted you earlier without caring that you might look like a crying mess. you're far more thrilled to be with your child than to be pretty at this moment.

the doctor smiled at you and he agreed. he pointed out the small hole on the side, telling you to stick your hands out to feel your baby. you do what he said with your shaky hands, and when your fingertips touch his warm skin—you feel like you could die from the burst of euphoria.

“my b-baby, my baby is n-now here!” you really can't hold your emotions back as you keep on passing your fingers through your baby's arm until it reaches his closed hands where you slightly and gently open it for him to grab index finger. and when he does, your smile becomes even wider.

“hi baby~ this is me, your mommy. it's so nice to finally see you.” you whispered softly, hoping that despite the glass, he could hear your words.

this is the bestest day of your life. your baby was here and that's all you need.

the scene continues to unfold with you still getting emotional and shoko was just watching you with a smile on her face. while satoru, the father of the child, the husband of the mother, was a little distant but he could still see the baby. he was all quiet and couldn't bring himself to utter a word but he's not speechless.

his eyes behind those glasses were trailed on the child, but most of his gazes were on you. satoru watches you become all smiley—this is probably the happiest smile he had seen on your lips for the past years of your marriage.

and he would absolutely never forgive himself if he breaks it—but he already did.

shoko notices his odd behavior and promptly leaves your side for a while (but you're busy having a baby talk with your baby to notice her leaving) to go talk to him.

“what? you're just gonna stand there and watch y/n?” yup. still the same as before, hostile towards the man. satoru let out a sigh and didn't give her attention. instead, he walked towards y/n and just focused on his family.

“you’re so tiny!” you continue to cooed at your son who keeps on moving slightly which is a good sign that your son is responsive and fighting. you also noticed that satoru was now right beside you and is looking at your son too with adoration tinted in his eyes.

“i don't think i could let myself be away from him anymore.” you said. your cheeks were now hurting from constant smiling but you don't mind.

satoru only looks at you briefly because his attention was now on his son, fully. “hello, it was nice finally meeting you.” his eyes trailed on his own flesh and blood with the most care of all.

on the other hand, you're not dumb to not notice that satoru was acting hesitant towards this scene and you knew what his reason was. you think that satoru thinks that he was undeserving to be here, and you're correct about his assumption.

but as a woman who grew up with an experience of being inside a shattered family, you absolutely would not want that to happen to your own child. and as much as you would also like to satoru be away at least for now because you're still that sensitive about what he had said during those conversations in the clinic and hallway, you respect his role as a father.

you'd give him a chance to prove his worth as a father to your child, but he's far worse to have a chance to prove his worth as a husband to you. if he messes this up real bad and without any proper explanation, this will be all over—satoru would no longer have you and your child as his own family.

“stick your hand on his hole, that way you could feel him.” you guided his hand towards the hole that you had said before and watched his hands turn shakey as he reached for the baby.

once satoru had finally experienced a skin-to-skin touch with his baby, he wanted to cry so badly but he didn't allow himself to, at least not yet. he felt like this was one of the best moments in his existence.

satoru would like to punch himself for questioning the baby for his plans as he seemingly thinks it would affect him. but just when he look and touch his baby, all of his recollection about the mixed emotions he felt when the baby is on the board has suddenly vanished and it was replaced with gratefulness and adoration for both of you.

it was like a full 360 degrees turn was done after the early birth of his first born. plus, he had seen you be ever so happy that you are with him. and deep inside him, satoru deniably hopes that this kid, this child, can at least help him save this marriage that was destined to fail and doomed.

because he now finally realizes that you're slowly wrapping him around your tiny fingers.

your tears had made him be a better person, your recent experience had made him behave. it almost cost you and your baby's wife just for him to realize the importance of your five years of marriage, and he's planning to tell you that soon.

“have you finally decided what name we should give him?” shoko asked you and she didn't fail to see your eyes sparkle at the mention of name.

ah yes, baby names.

that was something that a mother and father should decide together because it comes very crucial because the name that your baby will get is a symbol of you two's relationship. but the thing is, you and your husband hadn't talked about a single thing or just anything related to this matter.

that's probably why you're still embarrassed whenever you think about nanami accidentally seeing you open a website into one of the school's computers about unique baby names with its meaning.

you're four months pregnant at that time and you're spending your free time in a teacher's lounge. you're very invested in your mini research to the point that you didn't notice an old friend peeking at your screen. you actually only notice his presence when you're about to stretch but accidentally bump his torso, and to your surprise, he was there.

and then the rest becomes a story and history. nanami helped you pick baby names for both genders or even unisex until you came out with…

“kazuki. let's name him that.” a soft smile was decorated on your lips as you watched satoru, who's looking at you, plays with the hands of your son.

“kazuki…that's a nice name, y/n.” satoru said happily. however, you can see his disappointment behind those words and you know why. you didn't even invite him to search for your baby's name because why would you?

“does it have any special meaning?” shoko asked you.

you nodded and said, “of course, kazuki means hope of peace—and i really need that.”

taglists: @mistymuii @kalopsia-flaneur @sherryuki-callmeyuki @aish777 @tttttttf @slyhersophia @rirk-ke @labelt-san @shinruo @testrella @sad-darksoul @kurookinnie @mountvesuvu @chwesuh-imnida @cole-silas @elernity @maddie-jayne @yozora7154 @kawaiivillainess98 @forourpoets @aishies-stuff @numblytemporary @souyasplushie @catarinemirandax @aerithsthingss @h1gh4ru @ssetsuka @jskodn @khoiyyu @the2ndl @vebbiewuzhere @kouyoumarryme @dreamyescapesfromreality @local-mr-frog @haesify @blkmystery @bleppt @leavem3al0n3 @arminloverlol @megumisthirdog @shirabane @sheismaryy @tragicgirl444 @vampsins @miizuzu @kurobo @anxious-chick @p1nkliquor @mshitachin @chxrv @lolsasuke @username23345 @netyxms @lvstru @roscpctals99 @buttermilktea11 @berenevenstarzetaestelar @jiupark @hotsauce247 @veryverysadauthor @skepticalleo @opentheyoor01 @slowlyshycomputer @babybarbs12 @thickemadame @yaninnaacu @foggypostshark

[part 5 will be just there right around the corner — ©luvvixu2024]

#gojo satoru #anime #gojo satoru x reader #fanfic #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #luvvixu #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru angst #satoru angst #gojo angst #jjk angst #angst #arrange marriage

[btsgotjams27]

perfect palette | jjk

vegas isn’t your first choice, but you love your best friend and are willing to do anything for her, including planning her bachelorette party. everything is all set, ready to go for the last day, until you receive a text from the model you’ve hired. he’s out sick but have no fear, he’s sent the next best thing to replace him for the night.

✨ title: perfect palette

✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader (nicknamed Ro)

✨ genre/au: slice of life, light angst | model!jk, las vegas!au

✨ rating: m/18+ | ✨ word count: 7.5k

✨ warnings: language, drinking, mild nudity, jungkook + reader are tipsy, kissing, reader is nicknamed Ro but is only called by her name a handful of times.

✨ a/n: hi again! so this idea came to me when i was in vegas lmao, and the painting idea is from 'this is us' (the show). i just thought it was a fun premise. i hope you enjoy it.

What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.

Your head is pounding, and your stomach is growling. As you pop your head up, you notice the hotel room is a complete mess: furniture has been knocked over, empty tequila and champagne bottles litter the room, and clothes and money are scattered across the floor.

A low, muffled groan startles you, making you cover up with the duvet. You definitely don’t remember sleeping with someone. Your mind races, attempting to recall last night’s shenanigans.

Whoever is next to you mumbles under their breath and turns over on their stomach. The silver chain that’s adorning their neck glimmers from the sunlight peeking through the blinds. You can’t help but notice their broad chiseled back and the markings on it. No, they’re not scratches from nails—they’re purple lines, going from one beauty mark to the next, and each mark is surrounded by a pair of red lips. Turning your hand over, you see it’s stained with purple, matching the color on their back.

What the fuck happened last night, you think.

You lean over, peering at the mysterious person. A scalloped tattoo delicately covers their shoulder and the rest of their arm is covered in ink. You giggle when you discover the tattoos are colored an array of hues—blue, red, green, and orange. It looks almost like a child was told to have fun and went wild with coloring.

The person groans again, switching to lay on their back side. You pull back, holding the duvet up to your chin. A small gasp comes out when you recognize the mystery person—it’s Jeon Jungkook, your old college buddy. Five years have passed since you last saw him at graduation. Last you heard, he was in Los Angeles, taking a jab at modeling and acting. Well, with his perfect face and body (your eyes quickly scanned over him), who would say no to him?

The real question now was, how did he end up in Vegas, and specifically in your hotel room?

—

The day before.

“Ro, cheer up please. We’re in Vegas, not a funeral,” Lottie says, swiping on a pink lip stain. “You’re only gonna feel like shit if you keep scrolling through those photos.”

Lottie’s right because looking through your ex-college sweetheart’s wedding photos is not doing anything for you. Four years of committing to a man who said he never wanted to get married, but there he was with a ring on his finger.

Your phone is swiped from your hand. “Hey!” you protest, standing to snatch it back. “Give it to me!”

“No! I will not let my maid-of-honor mope around like a sad puppy. Forget Jimin! He’s a married man now and a Libra—an October Libra too, I might add. That should’ve been a red flag right off the bat!”

She’s been your work wife for the past three years, and the two of you bonded over talking shit about your boss and colleagues. The only anecdotes she knew of Jimin were the ones you spilled on drunken nights.

“Lottie, give me my phone. I have to make sure everything is ready for tonight. It has to be perfect,” you explain, holding out your hand, insisting she gives it to you. But it was an excuse to keep lurking.

The itinerary for today consisted of: brunch, pool and cocktails, dinner at Hell’s Kitchen, then a night of painting–naked painting you should add. As if the Magic Mike show wasn't enough skin for Lottie and the rest of the crew. You somehow stumbled upon a small business, ‘Perfect Palette’ combining models and painting into one. This would be the next closest thing to being with a fully naked man. It's been a hot minute since you've seen one.

The bride-to-be reluctantly hands over the phone and you're scrolling through emails, switching apps to confirm everything.

“Take a chill pill, babe. Everything doesn't have to be perfect, but I am excited about painting tonight!” Lottie smiles and claps, then leans over to give you a hug. “Okay! Time to get ready for brunch.” She runs off to the restroom. “And no more pining over Jimin, please!” She yells back.

It's hard not to look through the photos of your ex-boyfriend because it was supposed to be you, not the woman he's kissing and holding. If only you could go back to graduation and fix things between you and Jimin…maybe life would've turned out differently for you.

As you open up Instagram (your burner account, obviously), you see a new post of him and his wife on a plane with the caption, “Can't wait to honeymoon in Bali.”

Bali was your dream honeymoon location.

With a heavy sigh, flinging yourself onto the bed, you turn off your phone. Lottie’s always right—this is depressing.

A ding goes off and you're hoping it's just one of the girls confirming the schedule for today. Grabbing your phone, you hold it above you, the screen illuminating your face.

The notification reads:

Namjoon 8:30 AM

Hey. I came down with the stomach bug so I can't make it tonight, but don't worry, I'm sending the next best thing to replace me. I promise the bride and your girls will love him. He's a newbie but he's just as beefy if not more than me. Have fun tonight.

You turn the phone over and rub your hand over your face. Great, just my luck, you think.

Well, whoever this person is, you hope he’s worth what you’re paying for.

–

The Primrose restaurant is the perfect spot to finish off a weekend in Vegas. It’s bustling with groups similar to yours—probably other brides and bridesmaids celebrating a last hoorah before committing yourself to one person for the rest of your life. At this point it seems silly, doesn’t it? Being with someone, choosing them on a daily basis, loving them for all their faults, but who are you kidding? You’re a hopeless romantic now waiting for your charming prince.

Gwen and Ivy sit across from you and Lottie, whispering and pointing to their phone like two high school girls. You don’t doubt they’re plotting something. You just hope it doesn’t involve more naked men, minus the one you’ll see tonight. There are only so many ripped abs you can take.

“What are you two whispering about?” Lottie asks while narrowing her eyes. She holds her glass of mango mimosa, taking a sip.

“Nothing!” They both speak in tandem and Lottie makes a face at the two.

“No surprises,” you plead with your friends. “The rest of the day is already planned.”

“Don’t worry, babe! We’re not planning anything else,” Gwen reassures.

“It’s just that—” Ivy is cut off when Gwen jabs her in the ribs. “Ow!”

Gwen puts her phone down, hiding it under her thigh. “It’s nothing that concerns you.”

“But it does—kind of—” Ivy interjects. “Jimin and his wife—they’re pregnant.” She grabs Gwen’s phone, showing a photo of Jimin kissing his wife’s belly.

“Oh,” you say softly. “That’s great. I’m really happy for him.”

You hate to admit it, but it stings. He’s living the life you dreamed of with him. The big house, big cars, but someone else got the big ring. And now they’re starting a family? Everyone seems to be moving forward, but it feels like you’re at standstill. It’d be amazing to have a man plop in your lap, but life just doesn’t seem to be going your way.

Clearing your throat, “Should we get ready for the pool?”

—

It doesn’t matter how many times you tug down your swimsuit, it keeps riding up in all the wrong places. The white linen shorts and tie top aren’t doing you any favors either by being paper thin.

The pool is bustling with hoards of party-goers. They’re laughing, drinking, and having the time of their life. An ex-boyfriend’s current life shouldn’t be affecting yours—but it is. You wish you could let go, let loose, forget everything related to Park Jimin. You’d rather be consumed by anything, anyone other than him.

Lottie’s at the bar, ordering a round of drinks. Gwen and Ivy are grabbing the attention of four guys. And it’s the last night before returning to reality, so you should be having fun, flirting, and making a fool of yourself to someone whom you’ll never see again. That’s what Vegas is for, right?

As a maid of honor, you’re definitely not living up to the hype and you know Lottie’s disappointed expression like the back of your hand, and yet you can’t unbunch your panties that are in a twist. The effects of the morning mimosas have worn off, and maybe you need something stronger. Hell—even a gummy sounds tempting at this point. Anything to forget how miserable your love life is.

“You’re still thinking about him, aren’t you?” Lottie asks. You shake your head no, but she knows you. She sits down, taking your hands. “Look, I’m sorry about Jimin. It sucks that he got married even though he said he never wanted to—” You’re ready to interrupt but she stops you, placing her index finger on your lips.

“Bup-bup-bup. I know what you’re going to say, but don’t,” Lottie implores, pleading with her eyes. She knows how much you torment yourself with lowly thoughts.

You want to say that there’s definitely something wrong with you. Why else would Jimin say one thing to you about marriage and then do the complete opposite?

“You’re more than enough, so please don’t think otherwise. Don’t let this one guy determine the course of your future relationships. He’s not worth your time and energy.”

Tears began to well behind your eyes as she continued, “You deserve to have some fun. So please, can we enjoy this last night together before we have to go back to our real lives?” Lottie pouts along with puppy eyes.

Lottie’s always right and that’s what you love about her. You hate that you’ve been a poor sport this weekend when you’re supposed to be celebrating your friend and having fun. You’ve been busy moping over a man who is now married with a child on the way. It’s a pathetic way to spend your last night in Vegas.

You let out a deep breath, expelling all the bad energy you’ve harnessed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ve been the worst maid of honor, but have no fear!” A server brings over the drinks that Lottie ordered, you pick up your Paloma cocktail and an oversized margarita, handing it to the bride-to-be. “Let’s have the best night. Cheers!” you say, clinking your glass against hers.

—

Tequila is one of your worst enemies, but also the best way for you to loosen up your limbs and lips.

By the time the four of you arrive at the hotel room, you’re unsure if you can even pick up a paintbrush, let alone even get paint on a canvas.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sorry that you love me! Change my mind up like it’s origami!”

The trio of you, Ivy, and Gwen are linked arm in arm trying to fit through the door while singing at the top of your lungs.

“Ugh—I swear Tate McRae is my spirit animal,” you say, turning to Gwen. “You know, she just gets it. Always gets me in my sad girl hours and then has me dancing the next.”

“I’m a-I’m a-I’m a wild ride that never stops!” Ivy continues singing, letting go of the two of you while Lottie trails behind. Someone has to be the semi-sober one.

“Hey Ro—they’re bringing everything right?” Lottie asks you.

“Yeah, the guy will bring the supplies. There’s an area cleared out for him. I’m gonna freshen up then I’ll be out.”

“I’m ready for a man to bare it all and ask nothing of me in return,” Gwen comments, taking a seat on the couch.

You chuckle, shaking your head at your friend. Hopefully, it’ll be the last naked man you’ll see this weekend. But either way, you’re sure you’ll enjoy this last activity.

The powder puff pats against your skin, making dust fly everywhere. Taking a step back, you give yourself the once-over in the mirror, but not before swiping a red stain on your lips. You don’t want to look disheveled for this naked guest. Apparently, he’s the ‘next best thing’ next to Namjoon, and you saw Namjoon’s photo on the website. You’re curious to see this mystery man and how this evening will end up.

As the door is ajar, you can hear the girls talking amongst themselves along with giggles. Whoever this guy is, he must be living up to their standards.

You’re unsure what to expect, how everything will turn out. Is this model fully naked? Are they covered? Do you keep your art piece? How are you supposed to bring a canvas of a naked man on a plane without receiving a few stares? You definitely didn’t think this part through.

“Ro! Get your butt out here. We’re gonna start painting soon!” Gwen yells, making you sprint out the door and into a curious situation.

Four canvases on easels and paint palettes on stools surround the model. His back is turned to you and he’s already half-naked with only a towel wrapped around his waist. One arm is completely inked from the top of his shoulder to his wrist. When he turns around and your jaw drops, not because he’s built like a Greek god (well, yeah he is), but because you recognize the half-naked man.

“Jeon Jungkook?” 

“Ro?” His eyes light up and he secures his towel, tucking it in his waist. “What are you doing here?”

You step toward him and the girls. “What am I doing here? What are you doing here?”

Jungkook rubs the back of his neck. “Err—”

Lottie clears her throat, blinking at you and then Jungkook. “Um, excuse me. How do you two know each other?”

The pair of you give each other a look and chuckle before you answer. “Oh, we went to college together.”

“Just went to college together? Nothing more?” Ivy narrows her eyes at you, trying to figure out if you’re lying.

“What? No! We’re just friends. I was with Jimin, remember?” A pathetic reminder of your past relationship and now non-existent one.

“Uh huh,” Lottie remarks, taking a stride to you, pulling you in. “I wanna hear all the details about that one later.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” you whisper. “We’re friends—nothing more.” Catching Jungkook’s gaze, you smile softly before taking your seat on the stool.

“Are you ladies ready?” Jungkook asks, ripping off his towel, only to reveal another small hand towel covering his crotch.

The girls are yelping and hollering. You can’t help but cover your eyes, giggling at the fact that you’ll be painting one of your friends—naked.

—

Jungkook’s surrounded by the four of you. His pose is simple, straight forward. Literally straight forward because he’s facing you, knees slightly bent as he’s sitting on the stool. Your eyes have caught his every now and again, but he's focused on something past you.

Every inch of him is chiseled like a statue right out of Ancient Greece. From his jawline, to his collarbone, to his sculpted chest and not one, two, three, four, but eight pack abs. How is it that some people are just born to look like a Greek god? You didn’t think God had favorites, but Jeon Jungkook definitely proves you wrong.

Studying Jungkook’s physique for the past hour has made you realize how intimate this feels. Although the pair of you were friends in school, this is the most time you’ve spent with him outside of it, and the most time you’ve spent just looking at him. He is definitely a pretty boy with a soft, sweet energy.

Your brows are knitted, biting your bottom lip, trying to figure out how to paint his inked arm. It’s looking more and more like a glob than anything distinguishable. It’s when your eyes catch his and he’s doing that smile, the one where one side curves up, and it makes your heart skip a beat.

Jungkook’s eyes flick to the large clock in the living area. “Okay, ladies. It looks like time is up. How did everyone’s painting turn out?” There are groans and grumbles coming from the four of you. Jungkook chuckles, “Aw, come on. It can’t be that bad.”

He turns, fetching a robe behind him, slipping it on to cover himself. Jungkook takes it upon himself to check out everyone’s canvases, and you’re dreading the moment when he approaches yours.

You clutch it, holding it close to your body, and you have no intention of Jungkook ever seeing it.

He tilts his head, giving you a look. “Ro—it can’t be that bad.”

“Trust me, it is!” You turn, hoping to somehow destroy it before leaving tomorrow morning. It’s not that Jungkook looks horrible—it’s that you’re a horrible painter. But your death grip isn’t as strong as he is. With a sigh, you hand it over to him.

Jungkook nods with a pout on his lips. “It’s…”

“Horrible—I know.”

“No, no. I’d say it has an abstract feeling to it. I like it.” He gives a bright smile, returning the canvas to you.

You give him a thin smile, knowing that he’s just saying it because it’s his job. “By the way, you’re really good at this gig, but are you still pursuing the whole modeling thing?”

“I’m still doing that. I just do this gig for fun on the weekends. I mean, I get to meet cool, and sometimes crazy people and the money isn’t bad either.”

“Alright, ladies and gentleman. Tequila, anyone?” Gwen suggests as she wiggles her eyebrows, holding up the bottle. No one answers which makes her frown. “Aw, come on!”

“I’m game. What about you Ro?” Jungkook’s eyebrows are raised, eyes practically pleading for you to say yes. “One for me?”

You know it’s never ‘just one’ with Jungkook. You’ve seen first hand what that one line does to people, but you take the risk. “Okay, Jeon—just one.”

Everyone else gives in, raising and clinking their glasses to toast the bachelorette. Expelled breaths come from everyone after knocking back the clear liquor.

“Round two?” Jungkook asks, extending his glass toward Gwen in which she happily obliges.

You smirk, shaking your head as you catch Jungkook’s gaze.

—

It didn’t take long until you were feeling euphoric from the alcohol coursing through your veins. You’re always on cloud nine when you drink Tequila.

Lottie called it quits after her fifth shot. Gwen and Ivy are also well on their way to sleeping like babies. But you and Jungkook? You both have caught a second wind of energy.

“Ugh, I’m so hungry!” you exclaim, rubbing your belly as it growls. Jungkook’s trying to hold in a laugh. With a gasp, you turn to him, slapping his back, which is firm to the touch. “Shut up! Drinking makes me hungry.”

“Okay then, let’s get some room service. What are you craving?” 

You tap your cheek with your index finger, combing through the many options. “Pizza. No—wait, chicken wings.” Jungkook closes his eyes and hums. “No, nope! I want a juicy, juicy hamburger…with…with…” Your brain is obviously short-circuiting.

“Fries?” Jungkook answers.

“Yes! Fries! And a milkshake!”

“We can do that. I’ll call it in.”

An hour has passed and you and Jungkook are sprawled out on the bed, bellies full and minds are swirling.

“Oh man, I haven’t done anything like this in such a long time,” you admit, turning over onto your belly. You lay your head in the crook of your arm, facing Jungkook.

“What? Eating?” he teases.

You giggle. “No—getting tipsy and I don’t know, just being free.”

“This is you being free?” Jungkook raises a brow. “I gotta get some more tequila in you then.” He proceeds to get up, but you pull him back.

“No, no, no. Trust me, this is good. I don’t wanna black-out.”

“Okay, how about some champagne then? Just to celebrate your last night here,” Jungkook suggests.

You know you’ll regret it, but you agree. “Just one bottle.” Besides you already paid for it, you wouldn’t want it to go to waste.

He sprints out of the bedroom to the bar area to grab a bottle and two glasses. You can’t help but notice how his biceps flex as he pours the two of you a glass.

“To—”

“Lottie,” you finish his sentence.

“To Lottie.” He clinks his glass with yours before chugging down his bubbly.

You stare blankly at the Greek god himself. “You’re trying to get me drunk, aren’t you?”

His lips thin into a smile. “I’m not doing anything…”

“Mmhm.” You take a gulp of your glass. You’re sure that if Jungkook were to ask you to do something, you’d say yes in a heartbeat. He made being around him comfortable and you always felt at ease.

“So, what should we do now?”

Your lips turn into a pout, peering around the room before a lightbulb goes off. “Ah! I have just the thing.” You rush over to your luggage, rummaging through it. Turning around, you wave a box of double tipped markers.

Jungkook knits his brows together. “And what do you think you’re going to do with those?”

You giggle. “You’ll see!”

—

Your tongue is out, concentrating on the purple line connecting from one beauty mark to the next. You’ve forced Jungkook to lie on his belly as you’re hunched over, straddling his legs.

“Don’t move!”

He relaxes, letting you continue on. Capping the purple marker, you set it aside. You’re giggling, tracing the line across his back and you can feel him squirm under your touch.

“You finished or what?” He peers over his shoulder but you turn him away.

"Just need to add the finishing touches." Leaning forward, you press your lips to the first beauty mark on his mid back, leaving a lipstick stain. Then you move to the next one beneath his shoulder blade, and continue on. His skin is smooth and warm under your lips, and though it's faint, you think you hear a low groan from him.

You sit up, adjusting your position, staring at the artwork you’ve created on Jungkook’s back. “Done—with your back at least. Now onto your arms.”

—

Jungkook turns his head to see what you’re coloring, flexing his bicep, making you color outside the lines.

“Oh my god! You made me mess up!” You try wiping the color, but it doesn’t budge. “You did it on purpose.”

“I did not! Why do you need to color inside the lines anyway?” he asks before returning to his previous position, resting his head on his arm.

“Because…that’s the way you’re supposed to color.” Taking an orange marker, you continue shading in his cloud tattoo.

“You don’t always have to follow the rules,” he breathed, gazing up at you.

“I know…” you mumble. Your eyes flick to his then back to the tattoo. You hate when things are not in your control. There were a handful of moments in your life when shit hit the fan and chaos ensued—Jimin being one of them.

You clear your throat, grabbing a yellow marker to color in a gradient effect. “And are you the type to not follow the rules?”

Jungkook chuckles, “I guess we don’t know each other well huh?”

“Well, I was practically glued to Jimin when we were in school.”

“What happened with you guys anyway? I thought you guys were like soulmates or something.”

“We just wanted different things,” you mumble, not wanting to elaborate. “What about you, hmm? Being a model in LA and Vegas? I’m sure you have women wanting to crawl into bed all the time.”

His gaze catches yours. “Exhibit A.”

You scoff. “Hey! We’re friends—that’s the only reason why you’re in my bed.”

“Uh huh. I saw the way you were eyeing me during the painting session. Don’t tell me you weren’t thinking about it,” Jungkook teases, making you stop coloring, and pinch his underarm. “Ow, ow, ow! Okay, just kidding!” He moves away, but you pull him back.

“Hey! I’m almost done coloring,” you say, gripping tighter onto his arm.

“That’s not fair. Only you get to color me?”

You sigh, tilting your head. “I’ll let you draw one thing on me.”

“Can I pick the location of where to draw it?”

“As long as it’s not my tits or ass.”

Jungkook lets out a hearty laugh. “Alright, how about your—”

Your hand flies to cover his mouth, knowing exactly what he’s going to say. “Jeon Jungkook! That’s a hard no!”

“You practically saw my junk and I can’t see yours?”

“Well, I paid for it.”

“I can pay you too.”

You gasp. “You can’t just buy me.”

“Fine. Give me a few options and I’ll choose the placement.”

It would be easy to choose a place more visible, but you’re feeling frisky. “My hip or my back.”

Jungkook lips his licks, eyes flicking to your hips then back up at you. “And I can draw anything I want?”

You hum with a nervous tremble. You’re sure he wouldn’t draw anything ridiculous. “I trust you.”

“‘Kay then, turn over on your belly. Top off.”

Sitting up, facing Jungkook, your hands fall to the first button on your linen vest. Your eyes never leave his as you continue to unfasten the rest, then you toss it aside, revealing a blush pink see-through bra with floral detailing. Jungkook is trying his best to not let his eyes wander lower and you’re trying to do the same. Yes, you’ve stared at his half-naked body for an hour tonight, but you didn’t have the chance to explore it up close.

“Is this okay?” You know it is, but you’d like confirmation.

“Mmm.” He gestures for you to lie down, and you do as he asks.

Jungkook reaches for a black marker, the tip is thinner than the others. He shifts his position a few times before lying comfortably next to you. The warmth from his body radiates, heating up against your skin. You lie on top of your crossed arms, facing him, wondering what he’s planning to draw. Maybe some flowers or stars.

His brows are knitted as he’s concentrated on where to begin. He starts on the middle of your back, drawing circular shapes from what you can tell. The tip of the marker grazes back and forth, and his hand and fingers emanate a gentle touch upon your skin.

He’s quite handsome, you think. Even the scar etched on his cheek has a certain beauty, and his nose must be a butterflies favorite place to land on.

“Is it okay if I unhook this?”

“Hmm?”

“Your um,” he clears his throat. “Your bra.”

You’ve been too focused on Jungkook’s face, you hadn’t realized he was halfway down your back. “Yeah, um, go for it.”

He unhooks your bra in one fell swoop and the sides of your bra fall to the side. Continuing with his design, he concentrates on the smallest details going down your spine. Your eyes flutter shut as his warm breath softly fans the wet ink on your skin.

“Are you seeing anyone?” Jungkook asks, trying to make conversation, realizing he doesn’t know you well, besides when you were with Jimin.

“Single as can be. What about you? A girlfriend? Friends with benefits? Situationship?”

Jungkook laughs. “What kind of life do you think I lead here, hm? That’s a lot of assumptions about me.”

“I don’t know. I just assume that someone that looks like you would have someone is all.”

“Well, I’m also single, and I’m a more monogamous kinda guy.”

“You are?” you question with a dramatic gasp. “That comes as a nice surprise. Maybe we should go get married tonight in a chapel,” you joke.

“With a few more drinks in me, I’m sure I’d say yes to anything.”

“Stop—don’t tempt me.”

“I’m serious. I’m ready to meet someone and do the whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing, but a lot of the people I meet just want sex.”

“I’m sorry, did I just meet a guy who doesn’t want sex?”

Jungkook deadpans. “I didn’t say I don’t want sex. I do—I just wanna be a romantic and spoil someone.”

“Oh, well, you can always wine and dine me. I won’t object,” you tease.

As Jungkook continues drawing, the pads of his fingers create a light buzz of electricity, from one end to the other. Your eyes flutter shut, relishing from his soft touch. You almost let out a low moan but catch yourself when he gets to a ticklish spot near your ribs.

“Jungkook?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think the right person will come along for you?”

A beat passes before he answers. “Yeah, I think so. Whoever they are, I just know that I'm probably not ready to meet them yet, but the right time will come.”

“But what if the right person came at the wrong time?”

“Or…you were the right person in the wrong place,” he suggests. “Are you talking about Jimin?”

“Yeah, I've been trying to avoid talking about him. He recently got married and his wife is pregnant too.”

“Ah, don't tell me you're feeling shitty? ‘Cause you shouldn't.”

A sad chuckle leaves your lips. “I'm pretty sure I fumbled it.”

Jungkook stops drawing on your back, softly calling your name, in which you hesitate to look at him for fear of bursting into tears.

“Hey…you didn't fumble anything. Pretty sure it's Jimin’s loss.”

“You're sweet, Kook. Thanks.”

Jungkook continues on his quest to finish his drawing.

“Is it almost finished?” you ask, clearing your throat. The tequila and champagne are starting to wear off and tomorrow’s reality is beginning to settle in. Tonight feels like a dream and you don’t want to wake up.

He hums. “Almost. Just a few more details then we’ll be good to go.” Short strokes lightly mark across your back and he doesn’t break his concentration. He continues for a few minutes before closing the cap. “Done. Wanna see?”

“I’m not gonna lie. I’m low-key scared to see what it is.”

Jungkook straightens his posture then reaches for his phone. “You have nothing to be scared of. It’s pretty. I promise.” He takes a photo, showing it to you.

Though the drawing session didn’t feel long, you could see the intricate detailing he went into drawing the moon phases down your back.

Sitting up then turning away from Jungkook, you use your arm to cover your breasts and secure your bra. “Are you always good at everything?” you ask, standing and walking over to the dresser, you pull out an oversized shirt, slipping it on, then you grab the tequila bottle and two shot glasses. There’s just enough to end the night.

Jungkook shifts to the edge of the bed, legs spread, and you slot yourself right in between. “Nah, I’m not good at everything.”

“Oh yeah? What are you not good at?” you ask, making him hold a glass while you pour his then yours.

He chuckles, looking away, then back up at you. “For starters, I’m not good at flirting.”

“You’re lying.” Your eyes lock in on his as you set the empty bottle down on the floor.

“I’m not.”

“Okay, practice on me then,” you say, trying to persuade him.

“A bit of liquid courage might help.”

You raise your glass and clink it against his. “Bottoms up.” The both of you wince as you knock them back, tossing the glasses on the carpeted flooring.

“Better?” you inquire, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, playing with the hair along the nape of his neck. Jungkook’s fingers delicately trace up and down your thighs, sending tingles across every inch of skin. His eyes are so starry, you’ll gladly get lost in them.

“You’re pretty.”

“Could say the same about you,” you giggle, twirling his hair in your fingers. “You’re right.”

Jungkook closes his eyes, reveling at your touch against his skin. “Mm, about what?”

“That you’re bad at flirting.” Your eyes linger on his lips, wondering what they taste like and how much you’d like to kiss the chocolate chip mole right underneath his bottom lip.

He lets out a soft chuckle, looking down at his feet then back at you. “Told you,” he says as he pulls away, propping himself up on the bed. He scans you from head to toe, loving the fact that you’re in between his legs. Hasn't seen you in years, but he’s intrigued.

Letting out a yawn, you cover your mouth then apologize.

“Damn, didn’t think my non-flirting would put you to sleep.”

You laugh. “It’s been a long day and it’ll be an even longer one tomorrow.”

“Right, I should head out too.” Jungkook shifts, scooting to the edge of the bed but you don’t budge.

“Do you wanna stay? Since it’s pretty late already.” Nearly 3 AM and you know you’ll regret this but right now, you’ll indulge in whatever’s left of this trip.

Jungkook’s silent for a moment before answering, “Sure. I’ll stay.”

You crawl over him, slipping under the covers that have been calling your name for the past few hours. The plush, fluffy pillows are like a cloud as you lay your head down. Jungkook follows your lead, doing the same, facing you. His fringe gently falls, covering his eyes, and you find yourself moving them out of his face.

“You’re cute,” you whisper, letting your finger trace his cheeks to his jawline.

“I don’t really like being cute,” he hums.

“Well, that’s just too damn bad, isn’t it?” You inch closer to him, and can feel the warmth radiating off his body. It feels nice to be in close proximity to another human being again. And you like that there are no expectations. You can just be with Jungkook. The two of you run in the same circle of friends, and he makes you feel safe—like if anything were to happen to you tonight, he’d take care of you.

Your eyes flick to his lips, lingering longer than expected, and your cheeks are warming up, ridding the last bit of alcohol coursing through your veins.

Jungkook moves in, closing the distance. The tip of his nose brushes against yours, lips ghosting each other in a delicate dance before finally meeting in a tender kiss. Time seems to stand still as you melt into each other. Hearts beating in perfect harmony, lost in the sweetness of the moment.

With your breaths mingled, it creates a cocoon of intimacy as you savor the softness of each other's lips. Your fingers entwined in his hair, drawing him closer, bodies pressed together in a silent declaration of desire.

The last leg of this trip was fate trying to make you forget about your worries, and Jungkook was the perfect color to paint over your monochrome palette. 

There’s a longing deep inside you wanting to escape, and as much as you want to release it, you’d rather have him when you’re sober and in the right mindframe.

“Ro…” Jungkook moans as he pulls away, your hands splayed on his taut chest, forehead resting against his.

“Yeah?” you reply, leaning in for another kiss.

“I don’t want you like this,” he says, taking you by surprise, almost like he could read your mind.

Letting out a chuckle, you answer, “No—yeah, makes sense.”

“It’s not that ‘I don’t want you’, I do! I just—don’t want this to turn out like other flings I’ve had in the past because I don’t consider you ‘a fling’ or someone to just toss the next day because we’re friends and I would never do that to—“

You interrupt him with a peck on his lips. “Jungkook. I understand. I feel the same way.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, I had a lot of fun tonight and that’s all thanks to you.”

“I didn’t do much.”

“No, you did! You helped me loosen up.”

“I’m sure it was just the champagne and tequila doing all the work.”

“They helped, but it was mostly you.” You smile, letting a beat pass before speaking again. “Should we try to get some sleep?”

He hums, leaning in for a kiss, in which you willingly give. You tug on his silver chain, asking for a few more kisses before letting him go.

Not even three minutes in and Jungkook is already snoring. His chest rising and falling, rumbling like a mountain. It’s cute, you think. Could get used to listening to this, almost like white noise.

You admire how Jungkook lives his life without worries, letting the wind guide him. It might not happen right away, but maybe when you return to reality, you should consider not always staying within the lines. That it’s okay to go out of bounds and live a little. Life shouldn’t be so serious all the time.

—

There’s a light sound of pitter patter sweeping across the floor with shushed ‘Ows’ and ‘shut up’. You weakly open your eyes to see what the commotion is. Your body wants to get up, but the pounding migraine is saying otherwise.

A loud thump makes you blink your eyes open and pop your head up. There’s furniture knocked over, tequila and champagne bottles are scattered everywhere, along with clothes and money.

The low, muffled groan startles you, making you cover yourself with the duvet. They’re facing away and you can’t make out who this mystery person is. You peer over to find a man covered in tattoos, and it looks like a child tried to color inside the tattoo lines but failed miserably.

He mumbles gibberish under his breath and turns over onto his stomach. Great, now you can’t even get a good look at him, you think.

His silver necklace glimmers from the sun peeking through the blinds. And holy shit—his shoulders?

Broad.

Chiseled.

For all you know, he could be some kind of athlete. Then you notice the purple lines on his back, and no—they aren’t scratches from nails, the lines connect from one beauty mark to the next across his back. It’s like one of those connect the dot pictures, except the finished drawing wasn’t anything recognizable. But surrounding each beauty mark is a pair of red lips, and as you look down at your hands, you find that you’re the culprit who must’ve drawn on this man.

What the fuck happened last night, you think.

Another groan escapes the man’s lips and he turns over again. You pull up your side of the duvet, further covering yourself, and the smallest gasp comes out. It’s none other than Jeon Jungkook, an old college buddy.

The duvet is pulled down, covering his bottom half, revealing his taut chest and not one, two, three, four—but an eight pack set of abs. Is it humanly possible to even have more than six?

How did he end up in Vegas? And specifically in your room?

“Jungkook?” you whisper. “Are you awake?”

“Mmm…”

You move closer, feeling the warmth from his body. “Jungkook, it’s time to get up.”

Still half asleep, he wraps his arm around your waist, bringing you flush against him. “Just five more minutes, Ro,” he says, nuzzling into you.

“Jeon Jungkook! What are you doing?”

He chuckles, smiling, finally peeking his eyes open. “You don’t remember anything from last night, do you?”

“I…remember things…” you say, lying through your teeth.

“Oh yeah?” Jungkook moves into a sitting position, turning to you. “So you know we got married, right?”

Your jaw drops and eyes widen. “Oh my god, please tell me you’re lying.”

“You’re the one who suggested it!”

How could you let yourself get married in Las Vegas? And at your best friend’s bachelorette party? It’s not like you’re trying to steal her thunder, quite the opposite, really. This was supposed to be about her, not you. Fuck—Lottie’s going to hate you, isn’t she?

Jungkook quietly watches you freak out. Wonders how long he can let this continue before telling the truth. He thinks you’re cute when you’re all flustered.

“No, we can't be married! I don't even know you and how would this even work? We live like 3000 miles away from each other? And would you move to New York? Or would I move to LA? What if your family doesn't like me? Your friends even? Wait–do you even like me? Oh–Jungkook, how did we let this happen?” you ask, burying your hands in your face.

Question after question runs through your mind and Jungkook is sitting there with a smirk on his face.

“Why aren't you freaking out?” you question, raising an eyebrow.

Jungkook chuckles, leaning over toward you. “You're really cute, you know that?” he says.

Your eyes follow his finger as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. Clearing your throat, it's time to get down to the important things. “Kook–please! This isn't the time to tell me I'm cute. We have bigger things to worry about. We're married!”

He sucks in his lips, trying to hold in a laugh.

You knit your brows and narrow your eyes. “Unless…we’re not married…”

Jungkook lets out a soft laugh, his finger gently caresses your cheek. “Maybe one day, pretty girl. If we ever get to that stage of course.”

A smack against his arm reverberates throughout the room. “Aye! I'm gonna kill you. You really had me worried.”

He rubs the ruby red spot that's imprinted on his arm. “Why? Because marrying me would've been horrible?”

No, you think, quite the opposite.

“Of course not. It's just, we don't know each other and I wouldn't want you to feel trapped in a marriage,” you explain.

You'd at least wanna go on a real date and get to know him before strapping him down forever.

He nods in agreement. “Well, I had fun last night. Hence all the things I let you do to me.” Jungkook points out the badly colored arm and connect-the-dots on his back.

“Oh, I'm so sorry about that.”

“I'm not. I'm glad you had fun even though you don't remember it.”

“Please tell me I didn't act like an idiot.”

Jungkook laughs, shaking his head. “Nah, you're fine, but uh, I should get going since you have a flight to catch.”

“Oh, shit. My flight.” You reach over to find your phone. It's already 9 AM, and thankfully the airport isn't far away and TSA Pre-check has been a lifesaver.

With another glance, you see your clothes and Jungkook's scattered on the ground. He reaches to grab his shirt and sweats.

“I, um, I was pretty bold last night. Wasn't I?” you were referring to the pair of lips covering his back.

Jungkook snickers. “Yeah, just a bit, but I didn't mind it at all,” he says, slipping his shirt on. He stands, putting his sweats on and you can't help but stare at his peachy ass in his black Calvin Klein–the tight kind. “Do you remember anything else from last night?”

Your mind thinks back to the whirlwind of last night. There was definitely alcohol involved because you only act with confidence under the influence of Tequila.

But a recollection of soft lips and entangled hair between your fingers flutter back into the present just for a fleeting moment.

You shake your head, wanting to keep this memory to yourself.

Jungkook's lips thin into a smile as he ruffles his bed head hair. “Call me next time you're in town?”

You stand to meet him. “Or you can call me when you're in the Big Apple,” you reply, handing him your phone.

He dials your number, so you can have his. “Mm, looks like that confidence hasn't left yet.”

“Mm, I have a smidge of it left.”

“Yeah?” He draws closer, and you nod in agreement.

“Yeah,” you whisper, taking in his warmth and scent.

Last night was hazy but bits and pieces are coming back. You're not sure if a lot of these moments with Jungkook are real or just a dream. You'd like to hope he enjoyed spending time with you as much as you did with him.

“It was really good to see you, Kook.”

“Good to see you too, Ro. Don't be a stranger, okay?” He turns on his heel to open the bedroom door, but turns around to say one last thing. “Oh, and don't worry too much about the right person. Who knows, maybe you’ve met them already.”

You wonder if he's referring to himself. You have to admit, he's been making you smile and laugh more than usual, even making you blush.

“Mm, I'll keep that in mind.”

He flashes a smile, opening the door.

“Jungkook?”

He hums, turning to you again.

You reach up to kiss him on the cheek. “What happened in Vegas, can it not stay in Vegas?”

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook #bts fic #bts fanfic

[hana-no-seiiki]

WHY DON’T YOU GIVE ME A SMILE? (ACT 2)

YANDERE! BATFAM x JINX (ARCANE/LEAGUE)-ESQUE! READER

[ ACT ONE HERE ]

cw/tw: mentally ill reader. schizophrenic reader. reader w/ abandonment issues. manipulative reader. crimes. arson.

summary: we dive deeper into Gotham's explosive personality and history with those that took the title of ‘boy wonder’

MORE ON YOUR ORIGINS

“They were right! You’re just a Jinx.”

“Everybody shut up! I need to think!”

“We weren’t . . . “

As much as you scared the crap out of Joker’s goons. Since they saw you grow up first hand. A lot of them tended to be overprotective over you.

I mean, they’re insane enough to follow Joker. What more you?

They see you as his successor. An heir of sorts.

Which is why Jason Todd felt like he had no choice but to either fix you or keep you locked up.

You don’t remember much of him. If you did you would hate him.

He was the one that essentially helped you pull the trigger on your family.

If you haven’t read my other posts about it, here’s the rundown.

Jason had a massive crush on reader when the two of em were kids. Prior to everything. Before he was adopted, before reader set their world ablaze, before shit hit the fan essentially.

He saw how neglected you felt. The rejection you faced from your peers for not being strong enough. For being small and weak.

Him and your sister were pretty popular amongst the kids but it only made the comparisons worse.

It was always how they were “twice the kids at [Y/N]’s age.”

And so he thought of a little gift. Just a little something to show the others how cool you really are.

He didn’t expect you to use it that way. And the worst part of it all, he wasn’t there to comfort you. I mean sure, dozens of people died that day. Many of which he was somewhat fond of. But he was sure they’d want him to comfort you. To say that it wasn’t your fault.

And despite all that, you only knew Jason as that one guy Joker went too far with.

“Hey, [N/N].”

The call of your name almost froze you on the spot. Their screams pushed forward from the back of your mind into the forefront. You didn’t think. Your hands just pulled the trigger of your machine gun on its own.

“Who the hell are you?” You grit your teeth. You’ve heard of this Red Hood going around and ruining your adoptive father’s plans lately.

And what’s worse? The man kept forcing you to stay away. Plying you with all sorts of prostitutes and all the money you could ever need or want.

Despite your hostile disposition, the man in question doesn’t return it. “I’m sorry. This was all my fault. I shouldn’t have left you behind.”

“Leave.” You lowered your machine gun. A sudden wave of drowsiness overwhelmed you. A sense of calm. Weakness. Everything was screaming at you to end the source. But if he kept dodging your bullets them perhaps diplomacy would work.

You breathed out. [Y/N]. That name, that identity — though it fell down a well and was long dead it still had it uses.

Softened voice, doe eyes, and posture loose. If you had no other weapon they you always had your vulnerability.

“You need to leave, Joker is coming soon and I can’t help you if you’re caught.”

“Who was that, Jinx?” Joker asked.

You turned around. Your eyes meeting his chest and then his face, where that wide, freakish grin was stuck unto him.

“Old man, I think you mean what.” The toxic pink glint flashed through your eyes as you once again buried your old self along with the rest of the corpses that have met their demise by your hand.

“Meet Fishbones.”

BACK TO YOUR RIVAL:

Recently Tim had been . . . more agreeable to your demands somewhat?

You could tell he was pulling his punches.

Sometimes he’d even join you in your exploits.

You never trusted him of course. You never trusted anyone but yourself. But he was fun to be around is all. Whether it was you two beating each other to near death or blowing up buildings (he made sure to evacuate its residents before you two went all out).

“You know. I kinda wanna blow up that building. Don’t you think we’ll have a better view of the sky that way, Timmy?” You pointed to the structure with your signature gun shaped hand gesture.

That was one of Bruce’s buildings.

“You . . . “ Tim blinked at you a couple of times. “are so right.”

“Let’s go.” You yanked him the hand.

Tim smiled. Even if he wasn’t making direct contact with your skin, and you with his — he couldn’t help but smile at the intimacy of this moment. What were his worries with you beside him? All the sadness and anger felt so fleeting when he was with you.

His glee almost costed him his life as it took him a couple of moments to realize that you have pushed him off a building after a while of parkour.

He managed to grapple himself back, and with your assistance, he got back up to the ledge you two were on.

He gave you one half hearted glare. You laugh at his face, “You’re such a loser! Always ready to cry! Wah wah wah!” And you set off. Getting within the building with no care for stealth whatsoever.

What was the point of being all sneaky like when you had bombs on you?

"Wait up! Get back here!" Tim ran after you. He didn’t mind that you were essentially destroying all his and Bruce’s hard-work on his industries, but you were being too reckless. He would sure as hell minded if you were caught.

Turns out he wasn’t so far off when it came to his fears and suspicions.

“You. You set me up.” You glared at him. Hands on your blaster. Ready to shoot at a moment’s notice. Your eyes flicking between the men in front of you, wondering who was best to pick off first.

Batman, Nightwing, or the man you stupidly thought was your friend.

“No. No you have to believe me I—“ Tim tried to explain. But Dick cuts him off, “Good job, we couldn’t have done it without you.”

“You traitor. I knew it. I knew it.” Your voice got weaker and weaker.

No, no, no. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. This wasn’t part of the plan. Tim was supposed to be with you for longer.

“I told you, you have no choice.” Bruce finally spoke. His cape moved to his back.

He wasn’t going to let you go. Not without making it bloody.

“Oh, boohoo. You’ve always been no fun!” Your eyes never leave the two dark suited men, but Tim knew you were speaking to him. “Good thing I never trusted you.”

And you take a deep breath, dropping the laughing gas Harley gave you for emergencies. It wasn’t as strong as the original one, hell you’re sure that those people probably expected that move. But it at least blocked their line of sights on you, allowing you to create some distance.

You managed to get far enough to ready your weapons and send a call of help to your adoptive parents before your prediction proved to be true — footsteps behind you; loud and clear.

“Look’s like we’ve got even more company. Huh, boy savior?”

“Don’t move and I won’t cut you down.”

Pow pow in your hand, and desperation in your mind. The last thing you heard is a blade unsheathing before you pull the trigger.

୨ ©️ ୧⸝⸝﹕hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2024﹐⊂☁️⊃ ‹𝟹

AUTHOR’s NOTE: YALL THOUGHT THIS WAS GONE!! WELL THINK AGAIN!! I AM BACK!!! Sorry for the late update!! Man I’m so excited for season 2 of arcane ahahsheudidj

Taglist: @w31rdg1rl @cherry-peach-flavored @ice-cream-writes-stuff @speckle-meow-meow @inejghafawifesblog @sitepathos @mimiissia @rolo-at-midnight @mossyvampire @kawaiimusiccollection @harpy-space @takottai @maddeningmangos @obsessed-with-a-fictional @ihatemylifeuwu @caramelstrikezz @szapizzapanda @vanessa-boo @imbiafandbored @victor-rose @earphonejack09 @rainnyydaysworld @bubbabobabubbles @ksziggy @evan-trand @emo-z0mbiezzz @nyra-42 @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @orangeboulevard @alwayszealousdetective @huhuhhuhh @iwasveronica @imginarygirl @nebuluma @heyitsaloy @mysticalhills

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagine #yandere fic #yandere core #batfam #batfamily #yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #batfam x reader #batfamily x reader #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #yandere bruce wayne x reader #yandere bruce wayne #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #yandere dick grayson x reader #nightwing #nightwing x reader #yandere nightwing x reader #jason todd #yandere jason todd #red hood #yandere red hood #jason todd x reader #yandere tim drake x reader

[halaboyz]

oh?, choi san

classroom crush! ateez san x gn! reader (nonchalant vs oa lmao) FINALLY SOME FLUFF wc: 2.2k warnings: none that i know of a/n: i've done so much of this storyline i think this might be the last one of it

San remembers his first day as a returnee, striding down the hallway to his room, notes and pens tucked in his arm. Upon entering his room, was delightedly welcomed by one of the regular students- you.

"Hi, is this seat taken?" San asks cautiously as he points at the seat beside you, crouching to hear you better. When you turn your head to look at him, but instead, your jaw drops.

"Well aren't you fucking gorgeous," Is that even a whisper? San was astonished, blinking at you. It was needless to say that he was intimidated by that single line, feet discreetly stepping back and escaping the situation. "Sorry. Slipped. No one sits there," Your poker face confuses him more. You're a weird junior. You quickly focus back on your phone, as if you hadn't just said the most compliment San could ever receive.

"Ah, thanks... But I think I'll just find ano-," When he whips his head around to find another seat untaken, he panics. You don't look awkward at all, but San is. He doesn't want that. But there aren't any seats left, and he isn't close with anyone to strike a conversation just to switch seats with him. So he dejectedly takes a seat, scooting farther, maybe just a bit, away from you.

The day just wouldn't end like that, San just had to forget to bring an index card- the whole class did. And you just had to be prepared for it. Out of all his blockmates, it just had to be you. It makes everything hard for him when you hand all of your classmates a card one by one, when it all came down to him.

"You have one?" One was already hanging loose between your index and middle finger, handing it to him. It takes him a few more seconds before he shyly takes the card and thanking you softly, and he glances at you to see if you're really unbothered by the thing a while ago.

You really were.

At that point on, San had considered you a friend (he hopes you do too) that he can count on. Being a returnee wasn't easy, and you helped him adjust to the environment quite easily. You were someone who was blunt, straightforward. Unlike San, who overthought every situation he had been, and will most likely overthink the coming situations.

"Oh San. Hello. Are you at the room right now?" You quickly ask right when he answers your call. When he hums, "I forgot my extra shirt under my desk. Do you mind bringing it over here to the gym? Please and thank you."

Like you gave him a choice. He chuckles to himself, just agreeing and immediately getting into action. He retrieves your extra shirt for PE (which he, thank god, had taken already and passed the last year before he went for LOA) and jogs to the gym, where he finds exiting students already. When he asks a familiar face of where you are, they just point inside the gymnasium.

At last, the gym only had a number of students getting ready to leave, and he still doesn't see a strand of your hair. When he tries to reach his pockets for his phone, he sighs when he realizes he left it at your desk.

He cautiously walks to the changing room, where he tries to shout out loud, bravely, calling for your name.

"y/n... please come out, I have your shirt and there's no one else to ask a favor for," He thinks if you're even still there. But when he hears footsteps approaching he perks up.

Not until he sees you, though. He immediately turns red, and I mean literally red, and immediately- when he sees you only covered with a towel. He stands frozen in place, shirt in his hand reaching out to you.

"What, first time seeing a person half naked, pretty boy?" Your nonchalance was killing him inside. You thank him as you retrieve your shirt, asking him to wait for you since he was there already. As if you had just done the most normal thing friends do.

Or was San just not used to this friend-thing relationship that was normal for you?

"Hey, y/n. How are you?" San starts, the chair scraping the marbled floor.

"Good. You?" You reply simply, not even glancing at him.

"Good too," San nervously chuckles, but you don't buy it. With a simple whisper of 'spit', he folds. "Well... Not good, actually. I haven't been feeling well the past few days and I really want to stay in today but I had a quiz this morning. I really want to attend this class since I'm here already but my body's declining. Would you be so kind to share your notes for today?" San rambles, immediately feeling sorry for the inconvenience already.

"Okay." You answer, nodding at him. He waits a few more seconds to see if you'll add onto that, but nothing comes out. So he immediately thanks you, standing up and ready to leave when you grab his sleeve.

"Right, here. I've been meaning to give this." You throw him a small paper bag full of meds, "Get well soon. Miss you already," He doesn't know whether that was sarcastic or not. He doesn't care. What matters were the medicines in his hand, released from the pharmacy dated to three days ago, when he started feeling under the weather and has been doing everything to hide it.

He feels... weird. You're weird.

He remembers all that. That's how it has always been for the two of you. All along, he thought that he was the one who... he doesn't know. He doesn't even know, but all along he thought it was a him problem. Not a you problem.

So why were you here, in front of him, confessing your love for him?

Not the pretty-boy-adoration level, but a serious kind of level.

"I like you, Choi San. I think it's been for a while already." San couldn't figure you out until the end. So he figures that maybe, all this time, it's not a romantically-inclined interest he had for you, but a rather type of 'you're a weird-fun that's why you keep me on my toes' kinda thing.

And he doesn't want that. He doesn't want that for you because you deserve better. Just because you were a fresh air for him, doesn't mean that he'd only keep you to have his own part of fun.

"Uh... y/n..." He doesn't know what to say. He hopes to keep the friendship you've been building, but he also needs your keep of the decision for that. "Sorry, but..."

"Okay." You shrug, smiling at him. "It's fine. I get it. Don't worry, we can go back and act like nothing happened, right?" You didn't even let him finish. But he thinks he dodged a bullet there. Because of how he knows himself, he would've fucked it all up without meaning to if you let him finish. "Let's go back to the room?" You pat his arm, and you were back to being... unbothered. Like you didn't just get rejected.

Did San read too much romantic novels? Watch too much movies? To expect more reaction from you?

But apart from all that's raging his mind now, he follows you back to the room, and just like you- it feels like nothing happened. Maybe, it was better that way.

But when he asks your friend Yeonjun why he was going through your desk, and answers you asked to bring him your extra shirt and bottle of water to the gym, he's dumbfounded.

Not that he had some grudge for Yeonjun, but... hadn't you always asked him with that? I thought we're back to being whatever you were before the confession? Why was he now looking at Yeonjun like just committed a heinous crime?

But he lets Yeonjun off the hook (partially because Yeonjun was now sprinting out of the room to get to you and he didn't had the leisure to confront Yeonjun about it) and stares at the empty seat beside him, left with only traces of you.

Maybe, just maybe, Yeonjun crossed your mind first this time around, than San.

But well oh well, it happens again.

"Yeonjun, can you pass me the scale ruler, please? Oh and could you grab these plates unharmed and go with me to the office to drop these off before class ends," San was sure prior the confession, you had always asked him around. But now... what the hell?

"We can go now," Yeonjun stands up with no complain, getting all of the plates to go with you while you prepare. Why is Yeonjun acting like all of this is normal? Like... isn't he finding it weird that he's now the one getting asked around, not him?

San could now rip his hair all out for all he knows. He thought you wanted to go back to normal? Why is he noticing even the littlest changes now? Why is he so frustrated anyway?

His last resort was now two weeks after the confession, and everything has changed for him. Maybe just him, because he had started even noticing the smallest changes in your actions, or if it even changed- from the looks of it of other people's point of view, it didn't. But for him, a lot has changed.

"y/n, do you want to go get materials for the next project together later?" San encourages himself to initiate an offer, while the both of you were alone after a while, Yeonjun having something to cram on during break.

"Oh, San. Sorry, I already promised Yeonjun that I'll help him with his requirements later." You reply, biting your sandwich and glancing at him, then back to your book

"Tomorrow?" San was desperate. He wanted to make things right, but he doesn't even know if there were things to correct in the first place. Why does he feel so responsible and desperate when he's the one who rejected you?

"...You want to meet on a Sunday?" You slowly set your book down, gawking at him.

"That's a problem now?"

"Oh now your attitude's a problem." With his snarky remark, you immediately rebut it with yours. You were getting confused of how he has been acting, like... he's also confused. You were back to acting how you were before you confessed, only San wasn't.

"What about my attitude, huh?" San presses, scooting closer to you to annoy you more lividly. You scoff, amused at the newly found attitude your senior had.

"What the hell is your problem, San?" You scoff in disbelief, a smirk in your lips at the amusement.

"You know what, now that we're in the topic anyway, let me ask you that. What the hell is your problem, y/n?" He starts, eyebrows furrowing into confusion. Yours raise, because what the hell was he talking about? "You confess and okay, I rejected you, I was expecting that you will never talk to me again because that's how it usually goes, but then you say that we can go back to acting like it never happened."

"So? I did!" You almost try and fight him, if it weren't for his palm flying to your mouth to shut you up.

"You! Didn't!" San rebuts, "It's always Yeonjun here, Yeonjun there- did you not like me anymore just like that?! Have you moved on quickly? Do I deserve getting ignored because I was too ignorant of my own feelings?!" San was now mad at himself. He always was.

Because if you answered yes to all of his questions, the blame falls into himself.

He let you go that easily. Just like that. All because of his uncertainties, really?

"Of course I still like you, idiot! Do you think I get over feelings fast like that?!" You push his hand away, your panicked state was a reflection of his panicked state. You were supposed to be the cool one here, but hearing San panic made you panic.

"Then why the hell are you avoiding me?!"

"You're crazy, I'm not! I'm acting the way I am!" You exasperatingly fight back, because you know you're right. "You're overthinking things like how you always are, okay, I get it." You calm down, because if you weren't no one was going to. "I'm sorry, okay, I didn't notice this time around, I'm sorry I should've been more careful."

"Why are you apologizing now... I should be. You must be so confused of how I am acting right now..." San starts, shoulders drooping, lips turning to a pout. "I've only come to agreement to my feelings just now, y/n. I'm so sorry I came too late," San grabs your hand, caressing it.

You almost turn into a ball at how San was acting, feeling all giddy and happy at the same time.

"Really? San, I don't want you saying anything at the heat of the moment, you can take your time. This might only be because you were overly cautious of my actions after my confession which made you confused. You can take your time, San." You caress his hand with your other, smiling at him.

"No, I've just been trudging it out longer. I've been feeling this way ever since we met. But if I told you that earlier, it would've been weird, wouldn't it?" With a chuckle, you pull San for a hug, one that had been long overdue.

"Fuck Yeonjun, he can cram all by himself."

taglist: @sunlightwoo (answer the form on my pinned to be included!)

#ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez #ateez choi san #choi san #choi san x reader #san x reader #choi san fluff #san fluff #san imagines #choi san imagine #choi san scenario #ateez oneshots #ateez angst #choi san oneshots #ateez san x reader #san #ateez timestamps #ateez drabbles #ateez timestamp #ateez drabble #ateez fluff #atz x reader #ateez scenario #ateez imagine #choi san scenarios #choi san imagines #Spotify

[mintsturniolo]

an unexpected evening (m.s)

husband!matt sturniolo x f!reader

a/n: unedited. this just came to mind and i wrote it down. please feel free to leave any requests or comments in my ask box. i love getting new ideas

summary: matt comes home to find his wife has had a long day and learns that he's responsible for the kids tonight

After a long day of vlogs, Matt was ready to go home and rest. He was ready for whatever Emily was preparing for dinner tonight. Emily had told him that she was planning something special for dinner and that she wanted Nick and Chris to join them. As Matt drove, he was on the phone with Chris. “I guess I’ll see you two in a couple of hours then,” he said as he pulled into the driveway.

“Yeah definitely. I have a few things I need to get done for my brand anyway,” Chris replied.

Matt finished up the conversation and made his way into the house. He was surprised to see the kitchen empty. He made his way into the living room to find his twins sitting on the floor putting together a puzzle. “Daddy!” His daughter squealed, running to him.

Matt smiled and lifted her into his arms. “Hey Ali. How are you?” He asked as he lifted his son with his other arm. “Hi Liam.”

Matt sat down on the couch so that he could have both his kids in his lap. “What did you guys do today?”

“We went to the park,” Liam said excitedly.

“Mom took us to get ice cream,” Ali added before sticking her arm in Matt’s face. “Then we went to the mall and they painted a butterfly on my hand!”

Matt stayed with his kids for a few more minutes listening to their stories about their day before deciding to check on his wife. He wasn’t in a hurry to eat, but he was wondering why she hadn’t started cooking yet. “Where’s mom?” He asked the five year olds.

“With Noah in your room,” Ali replied.

Matt got up and went upstairs to see the bedroom door cracked. The light was on but it was quiet. Matt walked in and smiled at the sight before him. His wife Charli was sound asleep among the mess of blankets on their bed with their six month old snuggled up against her chest. Matt made his way to the bed and laid beside Charli. He heard her start to wake up as he gently ran his fingers up and down her arm. “Hmmmm,” Charli hummed. “Matty?”

“Hey mamas,” Matt replied softly. “Long day?”

Charli nodded as she readjusted herself, doing her best not to wake up Noah. Her eyes widened and she gasped quietly. “Oh my gosh. Matt I’m so sorry. I forgot about dinner.”

“No. It’s okay. We can do it another time. Nick and Chris will understand,” Matt reassured Charli. “I’ll cook for the kids. You just rest. Are you hungry?”

“I’m not hungry, but the kids probably are,” Charli yawned.

***** Time Skip *****

When Matt had finished making dinner for the kids and gotten them to bed, he made his way back to the kitchen to finish cleaning the dishes. As he turned off the sink, he noticed movement in the doorway. Matt turned around to see Charli leaning on the door frame. He smiled and walked over to his wife wrapping his arms around her waist. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah. I needed that,” Charli replied resting her head on Matt’s shoulder. “I still need to put Noah in his bed. He was sleeping so soundly so I didn’t move him.”

“I’ll do that. Where is he?” Matt replied.

“In his playpen,” Charli replied. “I thought he should crawl around for a while but I wanted to come check on you.”

Matt planted a kiss on Charli’s cheek before making his way upstairs. “Hey Noah,” he said happily as the six month old started to crawl towards him.

Matt lifted Noah into his arms and rested his chin on the crown of his head. “I missed you today,” he mumbled.

Noah gurgled happily as he played with the chain around Matt’s neck. “Yeah,” Matt whispered. “You get to see uncle Nick and uncle Chris tomorrow. That’s going to be fun.”

Matt carried his son to his room and laid him in his crib. Matt stood over the crib gently rubbing Noah’s back, as he soothed him to sleep. Several minutes later, Noah fell asleep and Matt went back downstairs to find Charli on the couch. “Everyone’s tucked in upstairs. What do you think about a movie night?” Matt suggested, earning a nod from Charli.

As the movie went on, Matt noticed that Charli had gotten quiet. He looked down to see her asleep in his lap. A smile formed on his face as he gently kissed her cheek and pulled a blanket over her.

Taglist

@sturniolo04

#sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #fluff #dad matt sturniolo #imagine #sturniolo x reader