#( this man should not be left unattended ) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rollingsins · 8 months

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Quinn Bailey Must Die

P1 | P2 | P3

summary: Quinn Bailey is yours and Tara's man-eating, sexed up, horn-dog roommate. She's cool at first, you think. Until she sets her sights on Tara.

warnings: (+18), Tara is Ghostface, language.

word count: 6.6k

a/n: set in the all hers universe, just a lil (big) one shot. love u guys, as always let me know your thoughts, always makes my day :))

Quinn Bailey is - to put it lightly - an absolute pain in your ass.

New York City is expensive.

College is expensive.

And despite your parents' assistance and you and Tara both working part time jobs, it just isn’t feasible for you to get your own place in the city.

So you’d put an ad in the paper. Found Quinn. She’d seemed fun at first - lively. The type of girl you’d want to be friends with in a new city like this. A tried and true party girl, glimmering like a jewel in a sea of dreary faces.

But her sparkle had lasted all of three weeks.

First it was the dishes.

She left them piled up in the sink, unattended. For days, sometimes weeks.

A little pet peeve of yours, but it wasn’t anything major.

It had nothing on the men.

They were like a revolving door. An entire roster of bodies to keep her warm.

Short men. Tall men. Thin men, muscular men. Men with beards. Men without. Pretty men, sometimes, even ugly men.

If he lived in the tri-state area and had a penis - likely he’d seen the inside of your apartment (and your roommate).

But really, you’re not in the position to complain.

You and Tara weren’t exactly known for having quiet sex, and of all the people you’d lived with, Quinn seemed to mind it the least.

Maybe, looking back, that should have been the first warning sign.

“I don’t know,” Quinn sighs one night over a glass of wine. Tara’s curled up in your arms, nursing her own glass as you play with her hair, “Sometimes I think I should just give them all up.”

“Men?” You ask, furrowing your brow. You laugh a little at the thought, “I don’t know Quinn, outside of partying, men are your biggest hobby.”

It’s not intended as a slight, and Quinn doesn’t take it as one. She throws a coy smile your way.

“I don’t know, you two have just got me thinking lately,” She says, “I’ve never considered girls before. I mean, I like dick. A lot. But maybe dick isn’t everything.”

“Poetic,” You say, an eyebrow raised.

Men or women, it didn’t really matter who Quinn bought home. You’d have to wear your noise canceling headphones regardless.

But Tara’s shifting in your arms, sitting up. Then, she narrows her eyes at Quinn.

Like she’s scanning her for a potential threat.

Although therapy had quietened some of Tara’s more jealous tendencies, it hadn’t gotten rid of them completely. Now, instead of stabbing - she chooses staring.

You rub her arm, your quiet signal there are no threats here.

“Besides,” Quinn says, throwing her hair back, “A chick can just strap one on, right? And it never goes soft. Maybe that’s an upgrade.”

Tara’s tense against you.

Quinn looks over at her, and suddenly notices the death glare she’s receiving. She pinches her eyebrows, a little confused.

“What’s got you all worked up?” Quinn asks, with another flick of her hair. Her eyes widen, “Oh? You think I’m trying to make a play for your girl?”

She leans back and lets out a loud laugh.

“Chill Tara, if I was going to go for either of you, it wouldn’t be her.”

And then it’s your turn to stare.

Your hand freezes over Tara’s arm. A hot, familiar feeling of jealousy seeps through you, settles deep within your bones.

Quinn catches your gaze and rolls her eyes.

“Girls,” She says, exasperated, “You’re not the only pussy-lickers in town. Relax, okay?”

Tara leans back into you, seemingly placated.

Quinn tilts her head, and downs the rest of her wine. She picks up her phone to call some other nameless man, no doubt to terrorize the two of you within the next half an hour.

The conversation is over.

But the jealousy bubbling under your skin doesn’t simmer down. And suddenly, it’s the only thing you can think about.

“What did she mean by that?” You agonize to Liv and Chad, a little later.

You’re in the NYU quad, picking at your salad with a plastic fork. Tara’s in class, giving you more than enough time to stew on the conversation with Quinn.

Chad slurps on his milkshake, seemingly unbothered.

“She was just being friendly, YN, I wouldn’t read into it.” Says Chad, mouth open and full of food.

Liv turns to him. Smacks his arm, a little too hard.

“Friendly?” She says, voice shrill, “Friendly?”

Chad blinks back at her, but she’s turning to you.

“YN, she was not being friendly, don’t listen to him. Boys are so stupid.”

“Hey-“ Interjects Chad, but Liv ignores him. She takes your arm.

“She’s making a play for Tara, YN,” She says, a little urgently, “Girls do this. We like to play with our food before we eat it. She was scoping out Tara’s reaction before she put the moves on her for real.”

You furrow your brow.

“You think?”

“I know,” Says Liv, “How do you think I got Chad?”

Chad looks over to her, a little owlish.

“Huh?” He says, creasing his forehead, “I asked you out, babe.”

Liv shoots him a look.

“You asked me out after I spent two weekends at your house asking for Mario Kart lessons.”

Chad’s eyes widen.

“You said that was so you could beat your brother!”

Liv gives you a look.

“Women are masterminds, YN. Watch the fuck out.”

Liv’s comments ring in the back of your mind for the rest of the day.

Now that you think about it, Quinn had been lounging about the house lately in scantily clad outfits.

Sleep shorts that rose almost up to her hips. Tiny tank tops that were almost see through. She giggled a little too hard at Tara’s jokes, gushed over Tara’s cooking as if Tara was Gordon Ramsey himself.

You’re starting to see it.

Quinn liked her conquests.

Men were easy, women a little harder - but for a girl who liked to conquer, who better than Tara?

Your sweet, loving, loyal and devoted girlfriend.

Prying Tara away from you wouldn’t be child’s play.

Truly the Mount Everest of conquests.

“What’s wrong baby?” Tara asks you a little later, after you’d spent half the night glaring at Quinn.

She’d been traipsing around all afternoon in a pair of black panties and an old t-shirt, an outfit that wouldn’t have made you think twice about it a few days ago.

But it’s different now.

Liv’s words ring loud in your head, “Women are masterminds, YN.”

You don’t respond, instead dropping a soapy pot to the countertop and watching as Quinn disappears into her bedroom, her phone pressed to her ear.

Tara snakes her arms around your waist, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your neck.

“Babe?” Tara prompts.

“Nothing,” You mumble. You’re in your own head now, half afraid if you say it out loud it will become true.

You feel Tara’s pout against your shoulder.

“Something’s wrong, you barely said anything when I tried to get you to watch Saw III,” She says, turning you in her arms.

She raises an eyebrow to punctuate her point.

“And you hate gore movies.”

“I like movies that make you happy,” You lie.

Tara furrows her brow.

“Okay, something is definitely wrong,” She says. She stands on her tip toes and presses the softest kiss to your cheeks, “Tell me babe, what is it?”

You bite your lip.

Tara is your girlfriend, you reason after a moment of hesitation, and if anyone were to understand jealousy - it would be her.

You sigh and loop your arms around Tara’s waist.

“Is Quinn… do you think she’s acting weird?”

Tara frowns.

“No weirder than usual.”

“It’s just…” you chew your lip, “I think she might.. be into you, babe.”

Tara shoots you a look.

“I don’t think so,” She says. She leans up and presses a kiss to your lips, “She has a pretty solid roster of dudes to keep her entertained.”

She brushes a stand of hair out of your face, “Is that what’s bothering you, baby? You know you have nothing to worry about. I only have eyes for you.”

It placates you for only a moment.

Of course you don’t have anything to worry about. Tara adores you. Tara’s killed for you. Tara loves you with every fiber of her being.

It’s just…

Quinn is pretty. So pretty.

Tara had fallen hard and fast for you, who’s to say she couldn’t fall the same way for someone else?

And then the dread is back.

“It’s just… Liv said-“

Tara groans.

“Babe, don’t worry about what Liv has said. She barely knows the days of the week.”

“But she knows how to get guys,” You say, a little pointed.

Tara tilts her head. Her eyes are warm, the softest smile on her lips.

“I’m not a guy,” Tara promises. She nuzzles her nose against yours, “Quinn could parade around here naked doing backflips and I wouldn’t look twice at her. You know that, babe.”

You do know that.

And so you let Tara press warm kisses into your neck and drag you back to the bedroom.

Make sure to moan a little louder than usual just to remind Quinn exactly who Tara belongs to.

It doesn’t work.

Because of course, why would it work?

The barrage of men flitting in and out of Quinn’s room comes to a screeching halt. She’s celibate for almost a week, focusing all her sexual energy on your girlfriend.

It’s subtle, in the masterful kind of way Liv described.

“Man,” She sighs loudly, one morning from her spot at the kitchen counter, “Tara, do you think you could help me on this paper for film class? I have to write a paper on iconic women in horror.”

Tara springs to action, charging away from you like this is her sole purpose in life: to share her catalog of benign horror knowledge to any pretty girl who looks her way.

You fold your arms, unhappily.

“Start with Ellen Ripley,” Tara commands, before she even sits down. Quinn begins typing, madly. Tara pulls up a chair next to Quinn’s, leaning in a respectful distance to peer down at Quinn’s screen.

“Signorney Weaver’s impact on horror is maybe one of the things that made me interested in horror to begin with.”

“I didn’t know that,” Quinn coos. She touches Tara’s arm, only slightly, leaning in until their shoulders brush, “That’s so cute, Tara.”

Tara draws back, clearing her throat.

“When you’re done with Sigourney, maybe touch on Jamie-Lee-Curtis.”

Quinn blinks over at her, eyes round, like an innocent doe.

You know better.

Your eyes narrow as you stand, reaching for your purse.

“Baby,” You remind Tara, leaning over to touch her back, “We need to get groceries today. Before Sam comes to visit.”

Quinn’s schoolgirl act drops immediately. Her eyes frost over slightly as she looks over at you, only the tiniest twinge of irritation apparent.

“Maybe you could do that later, YN?” She asks, voice tilted, “I have to get this paper done before tonight.”

“Sorry,” You flash her the mildest smile, not sorry at all, “Tara’s sister is coming all the way from California. We need to get the place ready, right babe?”

Tara nods, turning to Quinn to shrug.

“Google should be able to help,” She says, scooting off her chair and grabbing her coat, “Carrie’s a great film too, if you’re in a pinch.”

“Well, maybe you can help me when you get back?” Quinn asks, a slight pout on her lip as she looks at Tara.

Your eyes narrow, but Tara nods, helpfully.

“Sure.”

Naively, you’d hoped Quinn would get bored with this little game she’d started.

Her attention span is short, you’d reasoned, as soon as she’d figured out Tara isn’t returning any of her flirty looks or comments, she’d get bored.

You’d been wrong.

If anything, Tara’s lack of interest only seems to spur Quinn on more.

Most of your classes are in the mornings, Tara’s in the afternoon. Tara walks you to class, leaves you with a soft kiss and an “I love you”, but you know Quinn doesn’t work until the evenings, and it’s just her and Tara alone in that tiny little apartment for hours on end.

So you toil in your classes. Imagine the worst.

Tara and Quinn, sitting side by side, watching horror movies. Quinn touches her arm, then her thigh, leaning in to kiss her.

Tara bats her away, most times you think about it. But sometimes she doesn’t. Sometimes she lets herself be kissed. Sometimes she lets Quinn touch her, undress her. Fuck her.

And those sometimes become all you can think about.

This is a new challenge, one that has rarely surfaced in your relationship.

Tara is so enamored with you, most people don’t even bother attempting to seduce her. But Quinn isn’t most people, she’s persistent and pretty and maybe Tara isn’t a guy, but that doesn’t mean she can’t fall for the same traps a lot of them do.

A sticky hot, honey-trap by the name of Quinn Bailey.

“What are you doing?” You ask, a little stern when you walk into the apartment that afternoon. Tara’s curled up onto the couch, blanket wrapped around her. Quinn’s hovering over her, the back of her hand pressed against Tara’s forehead.

A prickle settles down the back of your spine. Your jaw clenches.

But Tara doesn’t even look over, just nuzzles herself deeper into her blanket.

“Tara isn’t feeling well, poor baby.” Quinn coos.

You drop your bag, ignore the rageful little demon in you that wants to bat Quinn’s hand away and fall to your girlfriend's side. The tip of Tara’s nose is red, and her lips are chapped. As she blinks up at you, you notice her eyes are hazy.

“Honey,” You say, all thought of Quinn gone as you press your lips to Tara’s cheek, “Why didn’t you call?”

“It’s nothing, just a cold,” Says Tara, but she curls into your side anyway. You press a gentle kiss to her clammy forehead and rub her arm. Quinn disappears into the kitchen, returning with a small bowl.

“I made her some tea,” Says Quinn, “And some soup from scratch.”

You blink up at her. You’ve never seen Quinn cook anything in her life. She’s all Deliveroo and fruit roll ups and toast. But the kitchen sink is awash with stray noodles and dirty pots. The smell of soup lingers.

“Thanks Quinn,” Tara murmurs, reaching out to take the bowl from her hands, “You didn’t have to do that.”

The angry, jealous demon is back. Quinn’s smile is unsettling, almost triumphant.

As if she’s out-girlfriend-ed you.

You swallow the urge to punch her in the throat.

“No, you didn’t.” You say, warily, “Tara’s allergic to MSG, you didn’t put any of that in it, did you?”

Quinn shakes her head, her smile coy.

“All natural, only the best for our girl.” Quinn says, and then squeezes Tara’s shoulder.

You glare as she cleans up the dirty plates and contemplate homicide for the rest of the evening.

When Tara’s feeling better, you’ll bring it up, you reason with yourself the next morning.

Quinn Bailey is becoming a pest, a horned up sex-pest determined to get her claws in your girlfriend.

It has to stop.

The solution?

This is where you’re a little stuck. You don’t know the solution. Strangling Quinn sounds great on paper, but not so much in practice.

Dead people don’t pay rent, that’s the only thing you know for sure.

You contemplate this over the next couple of days, between wrestling a hot water bottle for Tara out of Quinn’s hands, and almost jogging down to the corner store at the end of your block to beat Quinn for the tylenol.

Tara’s such a baby when she’s sick, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think she’s starting to enjoy this. Two women fawning over her, competing for who can nurse her the best.

And the worst part is, Quinn knows exactly what she’s doing and she wants you to know it.

She doesn’t say it, not outright, too smart to play her hand too quickly.

She grins as she spoonfeds Tara some leftover soup, flashes you a look as she dabs Tara’s sweaty forehead with a damp cloth.

She raises an eyebrow at you as Tara croaks out to her, asking for more tissues.

It makes you stew.

It makes you want to grab the kitchen knife out of the top draw and slam it through her stupid neck.

It makes you want to grab her by the hair and throw her out of the window of your seventh story apartment.

But you resist.

Let her think she’s winning.

It’ll make the victory you claw from her hands all the more sweet.

Tara’s feeling better a few days later, and with her recovery comes the first taste of victory.

Quinn’s making dinner in the kitchen - her newfound passion being culinary for your girlfriend. She hums a little, flitting between batting her eyelashes at Tara and shooting knowing glances in your direction.

“Tara,” She says, just as she’s about to pour the tomato paste into the pasta “I can’t get this jar open. Can you help me?”

Tara’s busy with her laptop, but she moves over regardless. She touches your shoulder lightly as she passes, and reaches out to take the jar from Quinn’s hand.

It pops open immediately. You roll your eyes.

Quinn beams, and as you look up, she’s running her hand over your girlfriend’s bicep.

“You’re so strong,” She flirts, brazenly, “Thanks Tara.”

Tara moves back to her laptop, unperturbed.

When it comes to attention towards her she has always been oblivious. You let out a growl so low, no-one but you hears it.

“Dinner’s up, Tara,” Quinn says, a few moments later, pulling out a couple of plates.

You peer down at your book, suddenly very interested in the words. When Quinn had asked you your plans for the evening - grocery bags in hand - you’d neglected to tell her Tara had asked you out to dinner.

Tara blinks over at her, a little confused.

“Dinner?” She asks, closing the lid of her laptop.

“Yeah,” Says Quinn with a sickly smile, “I made your favorite.”

Tara tilts her head, “Oh. Sorry, Quinn, we’re going out tonight. I didn’t realize you were cooking for us.”

Quinn stares a moment.

“That’s fine,” She says, voice a little clipped, “Only, I asked YN and she said you guys were around.”

You close your book and stand, grabbing your coat.

“Oh yeah,” You say, smacking your hand to your head, as if you’d suddenly forgotten, “Dinner. I am so sorry, Quinn. Gosh, I am so forgetful sometimes.”

Tara peers over at you, a little confused.

Oblivious idiot when it comes to girls, yes, but not with you. You see the question in her eyes and neglect to answer it.

Quinn’s eyes harden, but she doesn’t dare give up the jig. Not in front of Tara.

“It’s fine,” She says, “Maybe you can have it for lunch.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Tara says, a little absent minded as you wrap her jacket around her shoulders.

You can tell she feels bad by the way she lingers.

“We haven’t had a date night in a while, that’s all,” Tara explains. She wraps an arm around your waist and squeezes your hip, “Besides, I owe this one a dinner for taking such good care of me these last couple of days.”

She presses a soft kiss to your lips, her brown eyes warm and shimmering.

You can’t help the smile that snakes across your lips.

Quinn crosses her arms, looking unhappy.

“I seem to remember taking pretty good care of you,” She says, drawing Tara’s gaze, “Maybe you should be taking me out to dinner, too.”

Tara’s eyebrows knit in confusion. She looks at you, a little helpless, like she’s suddenly aware she’s caught in a chess match she wasn’t aware she was playing.

Bless her.

Your poor, sweet, unsuspecting girlfriend.

You squeeze her hand, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

“

“Did you get the feeling Quinn’s mad at me?” She asks, “Maybe we should have invited her to dinner. She did make me a lot of soup.”

You tilt your wine glass to your lips, needing the rush of the alcohol to get you through this conversation.

When you set it down, Tara’s blinking back at you, with wide, brown eyes.

“Remember what we talked about a couple of weeks ago, babe?” You say, “About my conversation with Liv.”

Tara nods.

“And have you noticed it, this past couple of weeks?” You prompt, “Quinn flirting with you?”

Tara tilts her head.

“No.”

“Tara, she touched your arm and called you strong,” You say, pinching the bridge of your nose. Quinn had gone to work earlier that day, blown a kiss goodbye to Tara as she’d left.

Made sure you’d seen it.

Tara shrugs, “I’ve been in the gym, babe, I’m getting stronger.”

She flexes her bicep.

“Look, babe, that’s all muscle.” She says, proudly.

“That’s not the point, Tara,” You say, “She’s flirting with you. She’s been flirting with you all week.”

Tara frowns.

“She has?” She asks, looking a little perplexed.

Then, she pouts.

“So she was just complimenting my lasagne because she wanted to sleep with me?” She says, looking put out, “I thought she really liked my new recipe.”

“Forget about the lasagne, Tara, this is not okay.” You say, “How would you feel if she were hitting on me?”

Tara frowns.

“Not good,” She admits, “Bad. Really, really bad.”

You sigh, dropping your fork onto your plate.

“She’s going to have to go,” You tell Tara, “If she can’t respect our relationship, she can get the fuck out.”

Tara bites her lip.

“Okay, babe,” She says, a little wary, “It’s just… rent is due next month and I don’t know how easy it’s going to be to replace her.”

She squeezes your hand, a little hasty as she sees the look on your face.

“I’ll talk to her,” Tara says, leaning up to kiss you, “I’ll remind her I’m taken and not interested. And if she still tries it after that, she goes. How’s that, babe?”

Tara’s talk with Quinn happens a little later.

You climb into bed, head tilted as you hear the quiet murmur of their voices down the hall. It doesn’t sound heated, and you hear Quinn giggling as she tells Tara goodnight.

You frown as Tara enters the room.

“It’s just a misunderstanding, baby,” She says as she climbs into bed, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “She doesn’t like me. She told me she’s just been a little clingier than usual because we’re her only friends.”

“Babe-“ You start with a huff, ready to climb out of bed but Tara’s hands grip around your waist.

“I know, I know, babe.” She assures, pressing another quick kiss to your neck, “I know you think it’s all bullshit so I told her straight up. I told her I’m in love with you and if she tries anything we’ll kick her straight out.”

You frown, turning in her arms, “Really?”

“Really.” Tara says, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, “And I promise to keep my distance, okay babe? She can flirt until the cows come home, it’s going to fall on deaf ears.”

She snuggles into your chest, soothing your hammering heartbeat with a kiss.

“I love you. Only you.”

True to her word, Tara goes out of her way to avoid Quinn.

Gone are their cozy little sessions on the couch watching horror movies. Tara refuses Quinn’s cooking, turns down each of Quinn’s requests to hang out, or help her with homework, or whatever other brainless task Quinn can think of to get them to spend time together.

The rental market is fucked, you discover in the interim.

No way can you and Tara afford to move out, and even if Quinn did leave, it could take months to replace her.

“No,” Mindy says, point blank when you ask her, “Not unless you and Tara swear to a vow of celibacy.”

You sigh, unhappily.

“Great,” You say, slumping back into your seat, “We’re going to be stuck with her forever.”

Mindy looks over at you, taking a little pity on you.

“Why don’t you ask Chad and Liv?” She suggests, “They won’t be able to hear you fuck over Liv’s soap operas anyway.”

“I already asked,” You say, voice gloomy, “They’re in a two year contract.”

Mindy shoots you a sympathetic smile.

“You’ll find someone,” She says, “You just need to put some feelers out there.”

And so you do.

You spend the morning in class writing up the ad. You’ll put in the paper tomorrow, you figure.

When you get home, ready to avoid Quinn and spend a night snuggling in bed with Tara, Tara’s already at the door.

“Hey babe,” Tara says, bouncing up to greet you with a kiss. She smiles, lowering her voice, “Missed you. Wanna shower with me?”

You smile and kiss her.

“You know we can’t,” You say, regretfully, “Last time we used up all the hot water.”

“So let’s have a cold shower,” She suggests, her smile turning into a leer, “I’ve got other ways to warm you up.”

“Izzie, how are you? It’s been ages!” Quinn sounds from the living room. Your smile drops - you didn’t realize she was home. Tara notices your face shift, and rubs your hip, comfortingly.

“She’s been good, babe, I promise,” Tara says, “Are you sure you don’t want to shower with me?”

“I’ll start dinner,” You say, leaning in to kiss her quickly, “You go, baby.”

Quinn’s in the living room, lounging across the couch when you enter.

“Yeah, I’ve never done it before,” Says Quinn. If she’s noticed you in the kitchen, she doesn’t acknowledge you. She kicks her shoes off and lays back into the couch, twirling her hair between her fingers.

“I just can’t stop thinking about it. You know? I really want to try it.”

You pull a few potatoes from the bag and pull out a knife.

Just a little while longer, you think, trying to stop yourself from glancing over. Just a few more weeks of her and then you’d never have to see her again.

Quinn looks over, catching your eye.

As if she can tell you’re thinking about her.

And then, she smiles.

“I met a guy last night, took him home because he looked a little bit like her. Dark hair, dark eyes, short.” She says, her voice dropping to a quiet murmur, “Fucked his brains out imaging it was her on top of me. Inside me. And she will be. Soon.”

She’s looking right at you. Her voice is a low taunt, daring you to take the bait.

And you fall for it.

Hook, line and sinker.

You slam the knife to the kitchen counter, cheeks flushing red.

“That’s it,” You growl as you launch at her, “You’re fucking dead, do you hear me?”

Quinn stares a moment, her jaw slacking.

As if she hadn’t realized her taunting would finally come to fruition.

In the form of you launching to grab at the end of her hair.

You tug at it, hard, determined to make the end of your fist meet the slant of her chin. She squeals, dropping her phone as you tug her towards you.

“YN,” She cries, “Stop it, you’re fucking crazy-”

“You think this is funny?” You growl, letting go of her hair to shove her back against the couch. You swing at her - and miss - and you know you must look crazed. All wild eyes, red-faced, three weeks of taunting finally setting you over the edge, “ You think trying to sleep with my girlfriend is a game?”

“Tara!” Quin screams as you launch at her once more, “Tara, help!”

Tara’s name on Quinn’s lips - if possible, just makes you angrier. You lunge over the couch, but she stands, squealing as she ducks your advances.

You hear the bathroom door slam, and a flash of dark hair before you turn to see Tara, soaking wet, towel pressed around her torso. Her hair is soapy with shampoo and she looks dismayed as she looks at the sight in front of her.

Quinn screaming like a child and you feral. Grabbing for her with all your might.

“Baby?” She says, sounding scandalized, “What are you doing?”

Quinn lets out a sob. Teary-eyed, she barrels over to Tara and stands behind her, grabbing at Tara’s arms as if she’s her knight in shining armor.

“She’s attacking me, Tara,” Quinn blubbers out through her crocodile tears, “Make her stop, please.”

“Oh, give it a rest, would you?” You say, voice harsh, “Tears? Really? Why don’t you tell Tara what you were saying about her on the phone, huh? Why don’t you be honest for once in your fucking life and tell her what you’ve been trying to do this entire time.”

“I was talking about a girl from my Chemistry class,” Quinn says, as if you’re crazy, “Her name is Charlotte, I wasn’t talking about Tara.”

“Oh, bullshit,” You scoff, “Just admit it. You’ve been all over Tara from day one.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, you crazy bitch,” Quinn says, “Look, just because you’re insecure, doesn’t mean I’m trying to sleep with your girlfriend.”

“Enough,” Growls Tara. She wrenches her hand away from Quinn, turning to round on her. The anger within you dissipates slightly. You swallow as you’ve realized Quinn has inadvertently awoken The Rage.

“Don’t you dare talk to her like that,” Tara says, her voice hot, “Don’t you fucking dare.”

Quinn blinks at her.

“Tara, it’s fine,” You say, hurriedly, “Babe, leave it.”

And as much as you want to see Quinn get punched in the face, you don’t want The Rage to be the one to do it.

You’d paid for too much therapy to see that fucker unleashed again.

“Apologize,” Tara demands, her eyes flashing, “Apologize to her now.”

You reach for Tara’s hand, tug her back towards you, out of Quinn’s reach. Her heart is racing, her shoulders tight. You press your lips to her shoulder in an effort to soothe her.

Quinn’s face contorts. You half think she’s about to spit right in your face. Maybe take a swing at you of her own. But then her face softens.

“I’m sorry, YN,” She says, voice silky sweet, “It really was a misunderstanding. I think we’ve got off on the wrong foot. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I was trying to take your girlfriend from you. I’m not, I promise.”

She sounds sincere, but you see right through her.

“Alright,” Tara says, though her shoulders are still tight, “Good. Now I’m going to finish my shower, and the two of you are not going to kill each other. Right?”

Quinn nods, solemnly.

“Bedroom,” You tell Tara, “Now.”

“She’s going,” Is the first thing you say as Tara shuts the door. You’re pacing back and forth, your skin burning hot and red, “She’s fucking gone, Tara. I mean it this time. I don’t care if we have to sleep on Mindy’s couch for the next three years, I am not spending another second with her-”

Tara rubs her eyes. They’re a little red, stained with unwashed shampoo.

“Baby, why don’t you sit down for a bit?” She suggests, “Look at you, you’re all worked up.”

You turn to stare her down, anger flashing through your features.

“She was talking about fucking you, Tara,” You hiss, “Right in front of me. She was talking about how she wanted you inside her.”

Tara moves a little closer, trying to touch your arm. You shake her off to continue your pacing.

“You’re mine,” You seethe, “I don’t know what part of that is so hard for her to understand.”

“Baby-” Tara starts.

“You’re not talking me out of this, Tara,” You snap, “I want her gone. Tonight.”

Tara catches your arm. She draws you in for a long kiss.

She’s trying to settle you down.

It works.

“I’m yours,” She says, softly, “Like I already told you, you don’t have to worry about her.”

“You promised, Tara,” You say, voice agonized, “You promised if she tried anything else she’d be gone. And I swear to god, Tara - if you try to take her side-“

Tara shushes you with another kiss.

Then she draws back, her voice soft.

“Of course I’m not going to take her side, sweetheart,” Tara says, “I’m your girlfriend. I’m always on your side. She’s going. You don’t have to ask twice.”

This relaxes you a little. Tara presses another lingering kiss to your lips.

“Like hell we’re sleeping on Mindy’s couch, though,” Tara says, crinkling her brow, “Sam can lend us the money. She won’t mind.”

Sam might mind.

But it’s really the least of your worries.

“Thank you,” You say, sighing as you lean into Tara’s chest.

Tara squeezes your shoulders.

“Let me finish my shower,” She says, “And then I’ll talk to her.”

She eyes you, warily.

“Maybe you should take a walk or something, babe,” She says, after a moment of hesitation. She brushes your cheek, “You’re all red in the face.”

You frown.

“If you think I’m leaving you here with that sexed-up-piranha-” You start with a growl, and Tara draws her arms back around your shoulders.

“Alright, alright,” She concedes, “It’s okay, babe, we’ll do it together.”

But by the time Tara’s out of the shower, Quinn is long gone.

You spend the night seething, not even Tara’s gentle kisses enough to coax you out of your mood.

In the morning, you hunt through the apartment like a lion hungry for its prey but she’s nowhere in sight.

She’s stupid enough to try you, but not so stupid enough to hang around for the fallout.

When you head off to class, Tara reassures you with a gentle squeeze of your hand.

“She’ll be back here at some point,” Tara says, “As soon as I see her I’ll tell her to pack her bags.”

Economics flashes by in a rage-filled trance. You don’t even bother with your marketing paper. You’re worked up.

You just want her gone.

And so you skip the rest of your morning classes and head home.

You don’t bother smiling at the doorman, fish your keys out of your pocket in a grump.

When you get to the door, you tilt your key in the lock, fiddling around to pry the door open.

And then you hear it.

A cry - it’s Tara, and then you hear Quinn. She’s squealing again. You blink. Your mind runs rampant with the possibilities.

Tara with her knife, plowing through Quinn with the kind of ire only The Rage can bring.

Tara grunts, and it’s familiar. Your stomach lurches. You might be sick.

You know that grunt.

The indicator Tara might be plowing Quinn in a much different fashion.

Betrayal sinks deep within your veins. You fumble with the door, almost pry it off its hinges in your effort to barge through it.

It swings open, and the lump in your throat grows with the thought of what you might find on the other side of the door.

But what you see isn’t what you expect.

You blink.

Nothing could have prepared you for the sight in front of you.

“Tara,” You hiss as your jaw drops, “What are you doing?”

Tara has Quinn in a firm grip. Her legs are wrapped tight around Quinn’s waist, she has Quinn’s head between her arms in a chokehold. Quinn’s eyes are wide. She struggles desperately against Tara’s grip, eyes bulging as she tries to wrangle her way out.

The scene in front of you would be comical, if it weren’t real.

But it’s very real.

Quinn looks over to you the moment Tara does.

The sound of your voice is her escape.

Tara turns to you, grip lessening only slightly as she realizes your presence. Her brown eyes widen, the way they do when she knows she’s in trouble.

Quinn pulls herself out of Tara’s grip with a heavy gasp, almost shoving Tara to the floor.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Quinn says, voice high as she stands, “Are you actually serious right now?”

“Explain, Tara,” You say, voice flat, “Now.”

Tara looks over to you, eyes wide. She splutters as she speaks.

“She tried to kiss me, babe,” Tara says, voice aghast, “She tried to kiss me and I didn’t know what else to do.”

Quinn’s breathing heavily.

She’s scary like this. Thundering over Tara’s tiny frame like she might snap her in two.

“I throw myself at you and your first reaction is karate?” Quinn says to Tara. Her eyes are wild. She’s pissed, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Tara fires back, “I have a girlfriend.”

You throw your bag to the ground. The heavy, unsettled feeling that’s stayed with you for the last three weeks is boiling. If Quinn doesn’t leave now, there’s no telling what you’ll do next.

“Get out,” You tell Quinn, “You don’t live here anymore. Get your shit and go.”

Quinn doesn’t move.

“Get out,” You insist, “Before I kill you myself.”

Quinn shoots an angry look at Tara, before redirecting it at you.

“Fine,” She says, “You two deserve each other. Fucking Jackie Chan and Princess Prissy-”

“Out.” You snap as she grabs her purse.

She shoots you an angry glare.

“You can forget about rent,” She sneers, “And good luck finding someone else to live in this shitty apartment.”

Your palms are sweating as she slams the front door shut.

Tara looks up at you, eyes still wide, a little sheepish as you close in on her.

“I didn’t kiss her babe, I swear,” Tara promises, leaning up to grab your hands, “She leaned in and I grabbed her before she could get close.”

“I know you didn’t, babe,” You say after a long moment. Your voice softens. You brush her dark hair out of her eyes, “I know.”

She’s quiet a moment.

“I’m sorry that we didn’t kick her out sooner,” She says, “I really did just think she was trying to be my friend.”

You sigh. Tilt your face to hers.

“I know, babe,” You say, then you snort, “I can’t believe you put her in a headlock. Sam’s going to love that.”

Tara pouts.

“She deserved it,” She says, “And speaking of Sam…”

She looks up at her, eyes shimmering.

“I talked to her about the rent,” Tara murmurs after a moment, “She agreed to help us out.”

“Oh?” You say. A spark of hope sears deep within your chest.

Tara bites her lip, “There’s a catch, though. She’s going to come live with us until we find a new roommate.”

“Oh.” You say with a frown.

“You’re not mad, are you?” Tara asks, a little hesitant, “I’d tell her no, but we’re really in a pinch, babe.”

“It’s fine,” You say, after a moment, “I don’t mind living with Sam.”

Tara hums. She leans in close against you.

“And hey,” You nudge her, trying to keep the mood light, “At least I don’t have to worry about Sam trying to get into your pants.”

Tara wrinkles her nose.

You laugh.

Lean down to kiss her, deep.

Fuck you Quinn Bailey, you can’t help but think.

You hope she enjoyed her little game.

Because when it comes to Tara, you never lose.

#ghostface!tara #scream #scream vi #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x yn #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x yn #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x you #quinn bailey #mine #fanfic #all hers #jenna ortega x reader

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javarium · 5 months

Text

sweet dedication | g. satoru

a year after his fight with sukuna, satoru finally gets to enjoy his birthday in peace, with no one but his beloved wife.

w — fluff, post-canon, lots of food :3, i incorporated a doggo sue me, vv short but hopefully sweet 🥰

Happy Birthday, My Beloved Satoru ❤️❤️

[ line divider credit to @/saradika ]

The last thing Satoru expected to smell coming through the front door of his home was a mixture of cinnamon and cherries. He shrugged off the jacket from his shoulders and curiously stepped further into his home. Upon seeing the kitchen table and every counter, his eyes went wide and mouth fell open.

On the kitchen table was at least four boxes of pizza, chicken wings, fried chicken, and brisket. Towards the end of the table farther fell the front door were sides, like green bean casserole and corn. His mouth began to water, his inner food junkie rearing it’s hungry head.

Across the counters and clearly in the oven were desserts, desserts, and more desserts — apple and cherry pie, cheesecake, fruit kebabs, crepes, mochi, brownies, kikufuku from Sendai. Gosh, what was the occasion?

And then the man sees above the hallway entrance that leads to the other rooms: HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Satoru gapes.

Was it really December 7th?

He checks his phone and his brows raise in surprise. How in the world did he forget?

But you didn’t. You would’ve been the only one available to have made such a feast for him (even if it was mostly sweets), since everyone else was out on missions, still trying to tidy up Japan after the Culling Games’ toll.

He feels his heart swell with love and happiness, happy that you’ve remembered a date that he’s thrown to the side for so many years. He’s happy that you’ve done so much here for him, a genuine showcase of how much you really loved him and knew him by cooking all of his favorites. This must’ve taken you hours and hours to do; this being a clear proclamation of how much you’ve dedicated yourself to him and to knowing him.

“Babe?” he calls out to open air. No response. He’s smart by checking the kitchen first; you’d never leave cooking food unattended.

Satoru’s mouth quirks up into a sweet smile at the sight of passed out, sitting on the kitchen floor with your inseparable corgi Maple snoozing away right next to you. Although he squints at the sight of your neck lolled to the side in the corner of the cabinets. That didn’t look comfortable at all.

He’s not sure if he should take you to bed or wake you up right now. After a moment, he decides the former. But as soon as you’re scooped up and secured against his broad chest, your eyes flutter open. Maple wakes up too, barking and wiggling her butt, happy to see her dad.

“Oh, my god. Satoru!”

He winks. “The one and only baby.”

Your brain has always been fast about remembering all of the events prior to any sort of sleep or nap you’ve had. This time was no different, and he chuckles when you begin to groan and complain about your surprise being ruined.

“God, I can’t believe I fell asleep! How does one even sleep on the kitchen floor. My ass hurts, Jesus,” you complain. You burrow your head into the crook of his neck in embarrassment as he carries you to the couch and sits down with you on his lap. Maple bounds up behind him and miraculously uses her little legs to hop up on the couch. Satoru chuckles and takes a moment to briefly give her belly rubs.

“Thank you for trying to make this day special for me,” your ‘Toru says. It’s sweet, the tone of his voice, filled with love and adoration. “Don’t feel bad. That looks like a lot of cooking you did, so it’s only natural you’d fall asleep at some point. So don’t beat yourself up over it, okay?”

You grumble but nod anyway. It was true. You’d been awake ever since he’d left earlier this morning, putting the pedal to the floor on your attempt to swamp the love of your life with all of his favorite foods made by hand.

“I love you, Satoru,” you mumble, still tired and sleepy from overextending yourself.

“I love you, too, baby.” His lips press a long kiss to the side of your temple. He pulls away to gaze down into your eyes, chuckles escaping him again at seeing the sleepy haze in them. “Thank you for trying to make my special day special.”

“But I still didn’t get to surprise you,” you complain.

“I wasn’t expecting it when I came home, especially now with everything going on. I think that’s a big enough surprise for me,” he argues. “So come on, cheer up! We have some delicious delicious food to eat made by my sweet, adorable, wonderful wifey-poo! Except the pizza of course!”

You deadpan. “Call me that again and I’ll smash the strawberry shortcake I made as your birthday cake in that expensive jacket you bought last week.”

Satoru gasps dramatically in horror.

“You wouldn’t!”

“Try me.”

“Not if I eat it first!”

taglist:

@vagabond-umlaut @heresan @4sat0ruu and @/all my satoru lovers also i shouldn’t have taken that nap otherwise this taglist would be longer lmaoo

let’s raise a glass to this man who deserves the entire fucking world

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojou x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo fluff #jjk gojo #jjk fluff #Happy Birthday ‘Toru ❤️❤️

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shunsuiken · 1 year

Text

THE ONE I RETURN TO.

pairing. kamisato ayato x fem!reader

genre. fluff + marriage au + reader is kinda shy btw (PLEASE CAN U BLAME ME ITS AYATO) + also you wear fragranced hand cream here

synopsis. day to day life married to kamisato ayato is never boring. there is always something to complete and achieve by the end of the day. however, due to your husband’s busy schedule, he’s never seen you in your element at work to ensure the household is in order. and tonight, he finally gets that chance.

wc. 2k

an. heavily inspired by ayato’s character story where the maids and servants often leave notes for him on his study so that he stays up to date with anything going on in the household I LOVE MY HUSBAND SO MUCH AWHWEHEURUFHDB its also my birthday today (well, it was, like 30mins ago but still) so this is a gift from me to you <3 okay please enjoy !!!

as ayato’s wife, you make sure to take care of the household while your husband attends to official duties. even if these duties take much of his time, you don’t fail to report and update him of any changes or requests made within the household and thanks to his lovely sister, ayaka, you learnt that the estate’s way of filling in the clan head on any news was though writing little notes to stick onto any books that were left open after the commissioner left his study.

as your husband, ayato really should be spending more time with you. everyone around him is aware of the capable and loving wife he has at home. some even whisper underneath their breaths that the lord commissioner is too busy to even have a wife. but he knows that is wrong, he doesn’t leave you unattended. in fact, he showers you in so many gifts (hand creams, hair products, skin care products—the list goes on!) when he knows he’ll be on business for longer than usual. this is how you found two new sets of kimono’s waiting for you on your shared bed. you must admit, they’re gorgeous. the delicate hands of ogura mio never disappoint… you nod your head in agreement to your own thoughts as you hold up the material closer to your face.

a knock on the door snaps you out of your mind.

“yes?”

“y/n? i was wondering if you were free? thoma made some pastries, would you like to—”

you bolt for the shoji before sliding it open with practiced grace. your gentle smile greets ayaka’s cute expectant expression. “of course, ayaka! you know i always have time for you.”

her eyes curl like crescents, boldly looping her arm with yours so she can take you to the area outside the estate’s doors. the evening breeze is cool but it doesn’t make you chilly enough to request a coat.

you and ayaka have always been the best of friends, even before you were wed to ayato. although you were a few years older than her, it did not change the shared frequency you both had when it came to certain hobbies and topics. then one day, you met ayato while he was on official business and you couldn’t deny how composed and… gorgeous that man was on that day. so after silently eyeing each other from across the room of authorities and inazuman nobility, he finally introduced himself, saying “he never had the pleasure of meeting you.”

you both soon grew closer, contacting each other through letters—referring to one another as your “penpal” when really you two were flirting (very, very subtly) on a piece of paper. you both only spoke during events hosted by other noble clan’s or official authorities, which was for the safety of both your reputations because god forbid a rumour that the yashiro commissioner was seeking a wife. imagine the uproar it would cause in inazuma city!

oh, and it certainly did.

as you stack papers upon papers in your husband’s study, you reminisce quietly with a relaxed smile on your face. you take the notes other servants have left and arrange them in categories of: household updates, requests and miscellaneous things. you often find yourself reading through the miscellaneous category of notes the most as they bring a laugh out of you. once you read that a servant politely asked the clan head to watch his step when leaving the study so he would avoid bumping into any potted plants. you remember that day and you remember how you were holding in your laughter at the disaster in the room when thoma showed you.

“my lady, sometimes the lord likes to get ahead of himself so it results in his feet working quicker than his head,” thoma commented as he cleaned the mess of soil and the depressing state of the plant.

you hummed in agreement. “that, i could tell very easily.”

a chuckle leaves your lips as you read through more of the notes from the retainers. “oh dear, these are too much for me.” you cover your mouth to contain your giggles. these people just have the most outlandish things to say! oh well, it is nice to know they aren’t afraid to be honest.

you’re lucky it’s past midnight, when everyone is asleep so they wouldn’t have to hear your muffled giggles.

everyone except for one person.

your husband, of course. who idly stands in the corridor with the shoji being the one thing that separates you two. he listens to how you whisper under your breath as you read the notes, or how you repeat what some of them say due to how amusing they are.

“my lord, your bountiful order of rice cakes will arrive within 3-5 days. until then please refrain from stepping into the kitchen to fi—pfft.” clearly, pursing your lips isn’t enough to keep you from bursting into laughter. “—to fix up your own—oh no, that is absolutely something he would do.”

ayato only realises how much he’s been yearning to hear your voice until now. it’s a shame this is the first time he’s bumped into you on these midnight reviews (he can see the smile on your face as you read the note even when he’s not looking at you, oh how he misses that sweet look on your face). licking his lips lightly, his gloved fingers stealthily slide the shoji open by an inch so the view reveals your figure that is turned back to him. his lavender gaze captures the sight of your hair loose and that you’re wearing the yukata he gifted you two weeks ago. you sit comfortably on his specially made tatami mat too.

sometimes ayato barely even has the time to be in your presence. but this moment right now, where he enjoys your presence without you even knowing, is nice. although the painful drop in his stomach inks him with a tinge of regret, he well understands how his duties must stay a priority. after all, he has a family to protect. ayaka, you, thoma and the retainers. he cannot fail any of you.

ayato purses his lips before he announces his presence with a light thud of the shoji shutting behind him. “hello darling.”

your spine snaps straight up at the sound and the voice. “ayato?” turning around, you watch your husband make his way toward you sitting on his tatami mat. he kneels down beside you before pulling another mat from the side to sit on it.

your mind struggles to process the moment until he is sat down. your movements are paused, two notes from the retainers still held in your hands. “when… did you arrive? it’s pretty early.”

a light chuckle leaves ayato’s lips, “darling, what are you implying? would you rather i leave?” he puts on an expression feigning disappointment, pretending to get up from his seat.

your hands move quickly, halting his act with your warm palm on his knee. “no no, don’t! stay here please.” the hastiness in your voice is accompanied by your wide eyes that have a longingness to them, a longingness that you still struggle to communicate verbally. which is how you end up subconsciously relying on your husband’s perceptiveness to get wind of what you’re feeling without telling him.

he huffs at you fondly, fixing his clothing to sit comfortably on the tatami mat again. then he takes your hand in his hand before you can pull it back. “as you wish, my dear.” he tugs on your hand and you give him a questioning look.

“come closer.”

“o- oh.” your other hand scrunches up the material of your yukata, which ayato totally sees and pretends he doesn’t. little shit. you want to curse because he knows how good he is at making your heart flutter. your body gives into him nonetheless, the longing and yearning for him finally melting into your limbs as you become putty in his arms, sitting in between his legs with both the tatami mats providing your bottom's comfort.

your arms shyly snake around his clothed waist, comfortably wrapping yourself around your husband you missed so much.

ayato lets you do whatever you want, knowing you will indulge in his invitation. sliding his gloves off his fingers, he puts them on the table so that he can feel your body without the obstruction. such a sullied garment that shakes hands with officials, signs documents and motions at retainers to obey his orders simply does not earn the right to hold you.

your head hides in the juncture between his neck and shoulder and he feels your soft breaths against his neck. he gently places his jaw on the crown of your head, finding solace in the embrace as his arms hold onto your smaller body.

the warmth from his palms spread on your skin, calming your nerves instantaneously.

“so is this what you do in my office at this time?”

you hum into his skin, “usually you’re not home by this time so it’s only natural you don’t bump into me when i’m in here.” your breath tickles ayato, a tug playing on his rosy lips at the physical intimacy. “you can imagine how shocked i was when you magically appeared behind me.” your soft giggle fills the room momentarily.

“it’s no wonder that all of my notes are arranged tidily when i return,” ayato chuckles softly, “it’s not to say that they weren’t tidy before but these notes held a certain scent on them that led me to believe that my wife was here prior.” he gently takes your hand that was wrapped around him, pulling it up to plant a kiss on your knuckles.

oh, you definitely felt how he inhaled slightly when his lips touched your knuckles. you glare at him, but there is no anger behind your eyes. “you rascal, you sniff your notes?”

ayato’s grin only widens at the name you call him, enjoying your response to his teasing. “darling, you’re the only one in this estate who wears this scented hand cream. i also personally chose it for you so i had no doubts about it.” he then sighs disappointedly, “though it is a shame this is the first time i’ve caught you in here, what if you stayed longer next time?”

you deadpan at him. “you want me to camp out here in your office?” because with his schedules, you might not even step foot into your bedroom until dawn.

ayato shakes his head, laughing softly at your expression. “don’t say that, you know i rush home every time once i’m finished.”

you pat his shoulder, putting on an act of sympathy before exhaling to feign exasperation. “and you will find me in our bedroom once you’re done.”

“y/n!” your husband almost whines, his brows creasing sorrowfully.

his expression doesn’t improve until you’ve kissed every inch of his pretty face, and only then does the corner of his lip curl up. with your hands cupping his face, he opens an eye to peek over at you ready to give him another smooch, consequently making you pause.

“are you satisfied, my lord?”

“hm, perhaps another one—over here.” ayato ponders for a moment before tapping his index finger on his own cheek. he closes his eyes yet again to await your kiss.

it does not arrive.

so he opens his eyes again, mouth ready to pester you with complaints for not granting him your divine kisses but just as he does, you’re up in his face to place that kiss he was waiting for on his cheek.

“there you go, happy?”

“most unbelievably.” his voice is soft, tender, almost a whisper. but clear enough for your ears to catch it. ayato stares at you with these eyes that tempt you into looking away. the loving and affectionate gaze of those lilac eyes, paired with that gentle curl of his pink, moistened lips is reserved, just for you. he takes your hands in his again, lifting one of them to place another ardent kiss on your knuckles.

“especially since it’s you, the one i return to.”

#kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #ayato fluff #kamisato ayato fluff #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin x reader fluff

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wutheringcaterpillar · 7 months

Text

18 years

Summary: After 18 years of marriage Thomas plans a special day just for you that he wants to be perfect even if that means keeping his kids out of trouble.

Warnings: Slight misogynistic Thomas, talk of termination.

Side Note: This is my first fic in awhile since I stopped writing two years ago on a different account, I hope it's okay! :)

The Shelby household was anything but perfect but for today Thomas was going out of his way to ensure that it was. Being a housewife and a mother was by far not an easy job.Thomas and you had been married for eighteen years. Did it get ugly sometimes? Absolutely. That didn’t change the adoration and love you shared for each other.

While you were out running some errands with Ada, Thomas has quite a few helping hands in cleaning up the house, and decorating it to the 10s. “Well brother, how’s it lookin’ eh?”

The silver chandelier presented the dining room with a warm glow that made the silver set table look ever so inviting. All the rooms were vacuumed and mopped, not a crumb in site. The floors glistened beautifully to his high standard. “Never did I think that my incompetent brothers would use their brains for a day and the outcome be satisfactory.” Arthur laughed in response, before giving Thomas a playful nudge. “Alright, that’s enough out of you.” Thomas rushed to the kitchen once he remembered he left the kids in there unattended. They were being not very helpful to say the least.

Annabeth, and Edward were now teenagers full of hormones and outbursts. It seemed like they would argue every day about the smallest things but today Thomas wasn’t allowing there behavior especially today.

“Does dad know about Jackson?” Annabeth scoffed at him with a disgusted face. Thomas did not allow her to date unless he appointed the young man to her. The same could not be said for Edward’s late night shenanigans that Thomas was aware of and Annabeth despised the double standard. “No, and I’d appreciate if you kept your fucking mouth sh-“

“Now, now. No need for bickering on a day that’s about your mother and all she has done for you.” Thomas entered the room dressed in a black and white suit and tie that fit him snuggly, giving off his normal professional sense. “I wanted to have a word with the both of you before your mother arrives which should be-“ He pulled his watch out of his suit to get a glimps of the time. “In ten minutes precisely.” Edward opened his mouth to speak but Thomas raised his hand to stop him. “I don’t want any interruptions I want you both to listen to the words that are about to come out of my mouth and I highly suggest you take them seriously or you will not enjoy the consequences. Eh?” He eyed them both with his eyebrows raised, both of them stayed quiet as they lightly cowered in there seats to there father’s stature. “Stand up. Both of you.” Without hesitations the teenagers stood up, not slouching but standing to s perfect straight line.

“No. Fucking. Fighting.” Thomas walked around them in a circle menacingly never taking his eyes off of them while they stared at the ground and listened to their fathers words. “I don’t care, if you don’t like the food. I don’t care if you don’t like sitting next to each other. More importantly I don’t care how either of you feel today. Today is about your mother. There will be no games, no arguments, no sports. More importantly-“ He stopped in his tracks now in front of them, hands on his knees as he leaned down so they had no choice but to look in his demeaning eyes. “No. Fucking. Fighting.”

There was a brief silence, as if to let the air settle and for what he said to soak into them. “We’re clear eh?” They both nodded and Thomas dismissed them. “Great now, go get formally dressed.” He watched as they both walked out of the kitchen. He greatly appreciated how much time and effort you spent in taking care of them and it’s time they return the favor for at the least one singular night.

Edward shoved his sister playfully into a wall, just around the corner to where they thought Thomas wouldn’t hear. Annabeth shoved him back and pointed up at him. “If you say one thing about-“

“Who your late night squeeze?” Edward began to laugh and Annabeth shoved him again.

Thomas heard from the kitchen and raised his hands in the air, disposing of his cigarette before he spoke to himself, annoyed. “What did I just say?” Thomas was going to let it go until he heard something break that sounded expensive.

In a quick pace to the hallway, he saw the both of you attempting to round the corner to the next room but they should know who their father is by now that nothing goes uncaught. “Eh! Over here now!” The siblings shamefully turned awaiting for all hell to break loose. Thomas was the strict parent, and that frightened them, which is what he wanted.

Glancing to the ground, an expensive, rare crystal dish was shattered on the floor, and he was going to be damned if Frances was going to clean it up. For Thomas’s sake he just hope you wouldn’t notice until after his surprise. “I said three, fucking words to you.”

“No. Fucking. Fighting.” He hit the both of them on the back of their heads. “Yes I’m aware of Jackson, I was hoping to avoid the subject today but I have ears so I suppose this will be addressed right fucking now to clear the fucking air. I pay close attention to anyone and anything around me and my family. You both should know that more than anyone. Seeing Jackson stops now. I don’t approve of him, my daughter will not be marrying some useless sack of shit like that. See him again. You will never leave this house again, got it?” Annabeth nodded with her heated cheeks. Edward began to quietly laugh to himself while his sister was being reprimanded.

That’s when Thomas was quick to call him out too. “I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re giggling at like I don’t know what you do with the little whores from school, sneaking them into my fucking house.” All grins from Edward diminished immediately.

“What you do is your business but in my fucking house. That’s my fucking business. Clearly your mother and I have given both of you too much privilege. I don’t care who you fuck but I’d be careful if I were you because the first girl you get pregnant, you’re marrying whether you love her or not. You know why? Because I say so. As for sneaking them in my house. Good luck with that from now on I’m sure you haven’t noticed but maybe you should take a look at the new people I hired if you could find them to watch the house whilst your mother and I are away for our anniversary.” Both of them were speechless and Thomas sent them up to their room. Thomas may be older than them but he wasn’t born yesterday. After all he spent plenty of those nights sneaking in and out of your house when you first started dating. He knows all the ins and outs of scheming.

The sound of car door closing grabbed his attention and panic mode slightly set in for him. Thomas Shelby didn’t panic but in the event of there being a chance that something may not be to your standard, he panicked. “Hurry on, your mother is here! Get dressed in proper clothes and not some skimpy, raggedy mess for once!” He yelled after his children.

The weather was chilly as winter was approaching in Birmingham. The snow was falling delicately from the sky once you pulled in with Ava and to say you were freezing was an understatement but the new brown wool blanket, she has gotten you should do more than help. “Ada you didn’t have to buy me anything. I have money.”

“Oh being married to my brother, believe me I know you have money, just wanted to treat you today is that so bad?” You shrugged, smiling at your sister. “C’mon let’s get inside.”

“Oh I hope Thomas was okay with the kids today, I know he’s hardly taking care of them alone without needing my help.” Ada set a comforting hand on your shoulder before reaching for the door handle. “Y/N if Thomas can’t handle them for a few hours, I don’t know how you’ve gotten this far.” You both laughed and once the door opened, you were met with a warm embrace there must’ve been a fire lit in the living room. Thomas came abruptly from around the corner after yelling something at Arthur that you weren’t able to make out. “Y/N! My dear loving wife!” Thomas pulled you to his side, and had Ada remove your jacket.

He was freshly shaven, and showered, smelling of mint and tobacco. His smile pierced your eyes, and he leaned down to kiss you softly. “How was your day out with Ada love?”

“Wonderful, was nice to get away from all the testosterone for a bit.” You giggled and then started noticing your surroundings. The floor was sparkling, not a sign of dirt or mud. The laundry basket was empty, the kitchen spotless, you went to turn into the dining room but Thomas quickly placed his hands over your eyes. “Thomas, what’s going on the house looks-“

“Happy anniversary sweetheart.” He removed his hands and the sight of the dining room was absolutely breathtaking. The curtains looked brand new, a dark cherry red colored that allowed the sun to poke through in a welcoming manner. The chairs were painted black and with gold patted seats to sit on. The food arrangements looked more than delicious and most importantly your whole family was there. Annabeth dressed in a a beautiful gold gown and Edward dressed in a suit and tie matching his father. Even the Shelby brothers looked showered and dressed to the tens. “Thomas I-“

He guided you to your seat, pulling out the chair for you. “Don’t say anything love, just enjoy dinner and don’t even think about doing dishes or cleaning up after this. We’ve got it.” Thomas winked at you as he took his seat beside you, the glowing of your smile and surprise leaving him just as happy as the day you said yes to marrying him.

18 years, and he still found time to manage to make it feel like the first day you fell in love with him. “I just want to take a moment to thank Frances who will also be joining us for this lovely meal. I couldn’t have put today together without any of you. Thank you for taking them time to assist me in doing this for Y/N, my beautiful wife whom I adore and admire more and more every day. Thank you for being such a wonderful mother to our kids and dealing with me. Not sure how you quite do it but I’m glad you’ve stayed and put up with me.” Thomas raised his glass of whiskey in honor of everyone.

Your eyes began to water to which he’d caught your tear of joy with his free finger. You mouthed a thank you to him and an I love you and dinner began. Once dinner was over Thomas made a final announcement. “Tonight Y/N and I will be leaving for Bali for our anniversary.” You gasped, hand covering your mouth in disbelief. You’d never gone and you had never found the time. Thomas wasn’t giving you an option to not have time. “We’ll return Wednesday afternoon and I’d just like to take a minute to thank Pol and Frances for watching the kids. Thank you all for coming, and I appreciate every one of you bastards.” Laughs filled the room while Thomas extended his hand for you to take and help you out of your seat.

Once upstairs you stared at your body in the mirror, just getting the feeling that something was off but putting it off your mind. “You didn’t have to do all this Thomas.” He came up behind you in the mirror, wrapping his arms around your waist, snuggling his head into the crook of your neck. “I did love. You do so much and never take time for yourself, always putting I and the children first. You need to be put first too.” Swinging around, you stared into your husband’s crystal blue eyes.

It has been a long, long ride for the two of you together, that will keep going. But this soft, sentiment man had taken awhile to appear and you’re not sure how you got him to come out but you were glad you did. “I love you Mr. Shelby.”

“And I love you Mrs. Shelby.” You giggled as he smiled down at you in awe, before placing his lips on yours, connecting them in a chaste, delicate kiss. “Mom, Dad the cab’s here!” Annabeth called.

“Would you shut up you idiot, dad probably already knew that.”

“Eh! No fighting, right?” There was a silence before they both responded in unison. “Sorry dad!”

“I don’t know how you managed to get them along for dinner but kahoots to you my dear husband because that’s something I could never do.” Thomas wrapped his arm around you, as you walked down the stairs together. “I’m Thomas Shelby. The name alone fucking scares anyone.”

“Well I guess I’m not anyone then am I?” Thomas shook his head smiling. “No, no you’re not. You weren’t even frightened of me when I screamed at some whore, for thinking she could seduce me.”

“Fuck no, if you hadn’t I wouldn’t be Mrs. Shelby now would I?” Thomas laughed once more before opening the car door for you. The snow covered ground glistened from the bright night sky as you scooted into the cab.

The ride was quiet whilst you rested in Thomas’s arms which he thought was rather odd, that usually meant something was on your mind. “Are you alright love?” Breaking a part from, you took his hand in yours. “There’s been something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” Worry etched over Thomas’s face but it didn’t compete with the level of anxiety you were feeling. “Whatever it is you can tell me Y/N, we’re celebrating eighteen years of marriage nothing is going to run me off now I can assure you that.” You stared down at the seat, eyebrows etched together in concern of his reaction. Patting his hand you looked up at him slowly, paying close attention to his eyes. “Thomas I think I might be pregnant. I know it's a big age gap for Edward and Annbeth to be close with them but I still want to have this baby." Thomas didn't hesitate to speak as he did not want to worry you. "Sweetheart, how long have you known?"

"I think I've known for about a week and I know it sounds silly that I was nervous to tell you but I didn't know if you'd want me to get rid of it because I know we didn't plan for this."

"Darling we didn't plan for the first two." You laughed and Thomas pulled you into his arms, resting his hands on your stomach. "I'd never ever want you to think I'd want you to get rid of our child besides, I love when you're pregnant, your swollen tits, your glowing smile and glowing tummy. I love every part of you Y/N nothing is going to change that. Okay?" You couldn't help the tears that began to stream down your cheeks, that Tommy once again wiped away, and he smiled lovingly at you. You nodded and leaned into his chest. You were going to be okay, and today was more than amazing. It was perfect.

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #ranaewrites

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sc0tters · 5 months

Text

Enough is Enough | Sidney Crosby

summary: when you push Sidney to his limits, he decides to teach you a lesson.

trope: dads friend

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual scenes, p in v, oral (m receiving!), legal age gap (reader is in college!), degradation, fingering, swearing.

word count: 2.49k

authors note: I’m gonna start this off with saying that the reader x dad friend trope is not one that everyone will like so if you don’t, don’t read it! oh and @hischierhaze should seriously like never leave me unattended ever again, cause this was a lot. To find the rest of the cellly you can see the masterlist here!

This was meant to be the summer of rehabilitation for you.

Your dad wanted you to recover after a year at university that almost landed you in jail on more than one occasion. As he was at his wits end with you lashing out.

Sidney was meant to be someone who could talk some sense into you, but as he stayed up waiting for a fourth night in a row for you to return with not even a word or a heads up to where you were. He realised he was on the end of a losing battle.

Before he’d just remind you to tell him about where you went but tonight as his anger mixed with the whiskey on his tongue Sidney saw your shorts and crop top and it caused him to lose it “where have you been kid?” He asked turning on the light in the living room as you looked like a deer in headlights “out Sid.” It was the same answer you gave him each time “some of the guys wanted to go get drinks.” You explained with a shrug moving to push past him.

Sidney stopped you as he wrapped his hand around your arm “we aren’t done here y/n.” The hockey player shook his head as he looked down at you “you either tell me where you are going or you don’t go out at all.” His voice was strict reminding you about his angry side.

Yet instead you found it amusing as you laughed “you gonna ground me or something?” You smiled rolling your eyes causing his grip around your arm to tighten “really should when you act and dress like this.” His free hands fingers dragged over the end of your shirt.

It made you frown “like what Sid?” You pressed his buttons as you pulled away from him “see you thought of something so say it.” Your arms crossed as you tilted your hips to the side.

Sidney pushed his hand through his hair as his nostrils flared “god you are such a wimp.” You spat shaking your head as he stood in silence watching as you walked to the stairs “you’re acting like a slut okay!” Sidney groaned honestly deciding that you were the reason why he decided not to have kids.

As you both soaked in the reality of what he had said “y/n wa-” Sidney tried to get himself out of the hole he had fallen into you were too fast running up the stairs to then shut your bedroom door with a slam “I’ll show him what a fucking slut is.” You mumbled looking at yourself in the mirror one last time with a smirk on your face.

Over the next few days that was exactly what you did. Sidney knew you were doing it to get under his skin as he watched your outfits grow tighter and shorter as your behaviour grew more present. You were now flirting with guys in front of his face, from the man in the grocery store to the neighbours son. What killed him was how he was forced to bite his tongue.

But when you eventually walked out of your room in this yellow bikini and nothing more than a baseball jersey that you left unbuttoned. Sidney didn’t think he had much more that he could take until he realised an important factor, that bikini top didn’t have cups. So as you walked into the kitchen after tanning outside Sidney knew he had to take defeat “so could you?” You asked waiting for his answer.

Sidney felt his cheeks turn warm as he shook his head “can you repeat that f’me?” He asked realising that he had missed what you said “asked if you could put some sun screen on my back before I go back out?” You repeated yourself as you sucked at the popsicle between your lips.

He nodded looking away as his pants strangely grew tight “y-yeah sure.” Sidney stammered as the first place he looked ended up being your breasts causing you to smirk “they look good in this one don’t they?” You brought your hands brush down your waist.

It made Sidney cough “I saw you staring at them, there’s no need to be ashamed.” You cooed stepping closer to him “we shouldn’t.” His voice was coarse as he tried to step away from you.

But the hockey player stood against the counter now trapped “all I’m saying is that you do what you want and touch them.” You used your fingers to trace over your nipples that were clear under your top “they are just begging for you.” You knew you were playing with fire as your teeth caught your lower lip between them.

Sidney felt himself grunt “my dad said he wanted you to help me out after all.” Your voice was soft as you used your fathers words “you’re gonna get me into so much fucking trouble.” The hockey player groaned nervously lifting his hand “there you go.” You cooed as you helped bring his hand to cup the one side of your bikini.

He loved feeling how his large hand was able to fit your entire breast in it “fuck baby.” The hockey player watched his thumb drag over the aching nub “need more Sid.” You whined placing your hand on top of his.

The hockey player nodded sucking at his teeth “what would your dad say if he saw you begging like this?” It stroked his ego as he brought his other hand up to repeat his actions on your other nipple as well “happy I’m not in trouble.” You found the situation amusing as you smiled “oh but you are baby.” Before you could question what Sidney meant he spun you around and pressed your chest against the kitchen counter.

It made you gasp as his hand kept your torso from pushing up “you think you could get away wearing this?” The hockey player used his opposite hand to hook under the waistband of the panties letting it snap against your skin “answer the question.” He snapped making you whimper “no Sid.” You shook your head struggling to think of where you could put your hands as Sidney moved to stand behind you.

He loved his angle seeing how vulnerable you were in front of him “wanted to piss you off.” You explained in a soft tone trying to stop him from hearing you “and you still think I should make you feel good?” Sidney laughed at your naivety “I can be good!” You nodded excitedly as you agreed “we will see about that.” Sidney mumbled sucking at the lobe of your ear.

It should have made you hang your head in shame how you pushed your ass against his crotch “the last few days have been hell.” He grunted squeezing the skin of your ass before he slapped it “what are you gonna do about it?” You gasped feeling him massage the previously abused skin.

Sidney felt his cock grow even harder as he pulled you back up so you could look at him “gonna finally shut this mouth up.” His hand pushed you to the ground as you dropped to your knees.

Your mouth watered as you watched him undo the strings of his shorts before he hooked his fingers into the waist pushing them to the ground to reveal his cock that stretched out the front of his boxers “look at you all excited.” The hockey player smirked as he watched you bring your hands up to trace your fingers around his boner “don’t tease me baby or else I’ll leave you looking all desperate on the floor.” His words made you whimper as you finally did what he wanted and revealed his cock as his boxers follow the same way his shorts did to the floor.

You knew Sidney would have been big but as you licked the swollen tip of his cock you began to wonder if you could take all of him “thin ice y/n.” His voice grew angry as he stared you down. It made you nice as you wrapped your lips around his cock forcing as much of his length into your mouth.

Sidney groaned feeling your tongue against the bottom of his cock “your mouth is so good.” He muttered watching your head begin to bob “you’re taking me to so well.” The boy cooed bringing his hands to your hair making a makeshift ponytail.

It helped him guide your movements forcing you to take more of him “fuck.” Sidney whined as you swirled his cock in your mouth and your throat constricted around the tip of his cock as you took all of him.

He felt his eyes roll back as you gagged “Sid,” your voice was muffled as your fingers slid down your stomach and into your bikini bottoms so you could tease your clit.

As Sidney began fucking your throat he felt himself grow dazed “looking so pretty down there.” The boy dragged his fingers through your hair to your cheek as you looked up at him through your lashes “finally being a good girl f’me.” Just as the hockey player said that you mewled at the feeling of your fingers against your clit.

It made Sidney think you craved praise but instead when he saw your body shifting over nothing it made him pull you up by your chin “you really are a naughty girl.” The hockey player sighed shaking his head as he pressed his hand against your slick bottoms.

Before you could attempt to apologise Sidney kissed your lips as he picked you up finally setting you onto the counter as you looked at him. It felt suffocating as his tongue slid into your mouth not caring as he could taste some of his salty precum on your tongue “gonna fuck you like the slut that you are.” His hand lay a smack to your ass causing you to jump as you nodded.

Anticipation filled your veins as he peppered kisses down your neck whilst he undid the strings on your bottoms “up.” He offered causing you to force your hips upward so he could move your bottoms away.

His cock stood dangerously close to your cunt as he pulled you to the edge of the counter “you want this baby?” Sidney asked using the tip to tease your clit “fuck yes.” You nodded as he finally decided that teasing you was now too much for him.

You gasped as Sidney bottomed you out, not taking the time to let you adjust “god.” You groaned as your eyes screwed shut “it’s just me y/n.” The hockey player placed his hands on your hips as your legs locked around his waist.

Feeling nice Sidney stopped giving you the moment to let your cunt stretch around his cock “need you to move.” You forced the words out as you tapped his side now feeling him bottom you out “knew this cunt would be just as good as your mouth.” The hockey player kissed your lips as he caught your lower lip between his teeth eating a whine from you.

His thrusts began to quicken as he craved the sound of your moans “all yours.” You moaned pecking his lips “you realised being a slut ain’t no fun now?” Sidney laughed as you cupped your breasts trying to bring yourself more pleasure.

You fidgeted at the bikini material as he shook his head “slut f’you.” You whined as his hands replaced yours “let’s get this off.” Sidney grew irritated as he eventually ended up ripping the fabric apart “Sid!” You scoffed seeing your top now sat in two pieces.

His nose brushed over yours “I’ll buy you a hundred pairs more if you’ll let me rip them like that.” The kitchen felt hot as the windows were open meaning that anyone who walked past would have heard the acts that were going on in there. But somehow that made you feel so powerful “can rip ‘em all.” You nodded tugging your fingers through his curls when he lowered his lips to your nipples.

Sidney swirled his tongue around your sensitive buds making you clench around his cock “you liking this baby?” He locked his eyes with yours as his teeth grazed your nipple when your phone began to ring from the side of the counter.

It made you look with wide eyes “i-it’s my dad.” You croaked making his cock throb “answer it doll.” Sidney used every pet name in his arsenal as you remained frozen “answer or I stop.” His warning was enough to make you reach over to grab your phone.

On the other side you hear your dad breathing as you answered “hey princess how are you?” The cheeriness in his voice made you feel sick as you gripped at your phone “I’m good daddy.” The last word was moaned followed by a cough as you tried to cover yourself up.

Sidney smirked moving his lips from your nipple to your neck “look what do you want?” You complained tightening your legs around Sidney’s waist “just checking in, is Sid keeping you busy?” The hockey player let out a soft laugh as he heard the words “yeah gotta go!” You were quick to hang up as Sidney placed his fingers against your clit.

It didn’t take you long until you arched your back against the counter “you close?” Sidney asked pecking your lips “so close.” You nodded biting your lip as you went quiet “if you want to come you’re going to have to apologise.” The hockey player warned making you nod.

Skin slapping echoed through your mind “didn’t mean to be a bad girl Sid.” You cried as your skin felt hot even with the marble beneath you “promise to be your good girl forever.” The claim was bold but in that moment you planned on keeping your side of it “let me ruin this pussy for all of those college kids back home.” You moaned at his possessive tone.

All you could do was nod “it’s all yours Sid.” That sent him over the edge “milk my cock baby when you fucking come.” His order made you gasp in pleasure.

Your legs shook as incoherent whines came from your lips as you come “fuck!” You cried as you felt Sidney come shortly after you did.

His hand pressed against the counter next to you to make sure that he didn’t collapse “there you go pretty girl.” As the hockey player let his cock slide out of your soaked cunt it was quickly replaced with his fingers that pushed both of your releases back into your core “surely you didn’t think I’d let you misbehave that easily now did you?” Sidney had a devilish smirk as he began to finger you.

You were in for a long day.

#ambers 500 celly #Sidney Crosby smut #Sidney Crosby imagines #imagines #oneshots #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #nhl oneshot #nhl imagine #hockey smut #nhl smut #amber writes fics

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candyk0rn · 16 days

Note

Hey, can I request a break up with Nanami, Gojo, and Geto? I'm in a mood for angst :')

⚘Breakup⚘

Woah okay first time I’ve ever written smth like this so I’m excited! Thanks for the ask, have a good day/night!

Warnings: ummm breaking up with someone is sad y’all

Included: Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru

G.Satoru:

Fights or arguments don’t really happen with Gojo

Because he doesn’t let them happen

When things get even the slightest bit heated, he avoids them

He erases them with clinginess and jokes, always brushing it off when he should definitely be serious

And this is one of many things that drew your relationship to its inevitable end

Not only was it his lack of ability to read the room, but also his dangerous job

With the privilege of being considered the ‘strongest’, that means the strongest enemies are after him as well

You cannot begin to count the amount of times he said he’d leave for a three day mission, only to be gone for an entire week with no further communication

There’s a large risk at hand with being even so much as associated with Gojo

Let alone being his romantic partner

A certain bounty has been placed on your head too, you’re sure.

And that is just dusting against the surface of the cracks that eventually took control of your relationship

And to be honest, he doesn’t take the break up that serious either

Not until you stop returning your calls and haven’t come home for a few hours

Maybe it’ll make him realize, but who knows?

N.Kento:

Nanami is tricker than Gojo.

But in some regards, I believe he’s very similar

For Nanami is perceived, at least, to be a ‘simple’ man

For someone who hates work, who would much rather go on a long vacation,

He takes his occupation extremely seriously

Both his normal income job and his sorcerer work

And sometimes you truly felt he held his job before you, his partner

And sometimes, he would openly admit to taking priority elsewhere than with you

Which, in some cases understandable, still hurts

One time, later in your relationship, he has forgotten your anniversary

Well, he hadn’t forgotten it fully

But he didn’t celebrate in anyway, needing his hours at work

Nor did he intend to celebrate in anyway, even though much earlier to the date you told him you would like to

Unlike Gojo, the breakup is rather smooth

He simply and utterly refuses to leave on a bad note

And he will not only leave in good terms, but he wants to leave respectfully

But he will be in shock for a very long time afterwards

And he doubts the feeling of deep regret will leave anytime soon…

G.Suguru:

I don’t think people really recognize how others are affected when someone begins to spiral

Not only is the person who is going through the hard time hurting and being drained, the person helping is drained too

And unfortunately, this is what happened to yours and Geto’s relationship

Seeing someone you care for so deeply begin this downward trajectory is hard

And you swore to be by his side through it all..

Until he began to do some things you didn’t exactly approve of

Once the count of dead began rising by his hand, you found yourself losing sympathy bit by bit

It’s a hard pill to swallow, it’s a difficult thing to accept

And it’s an even worse thing to end

To hang on to the hope that the old Suguru is simply trapped behind a mask of pain would be futile

It’s either accept unfortunate route his travelled down, or follow in your own beliefs

And even though you once thought you could help him wash his hands clean of blood,

There will always be a spot left unattended

And spots only grow until you no longer see skin

Only red.

He doesn’t actually believe you at first when you bring up leaving him

In fact, he says to your face he doesn’t believe you

Like Gojo, he assumes that after you calm down you’ll be running back to him

But you don’t

And there’s very few times he’s felt regret.

He has done everything in his power to make sure the word isn’t even in his vocabulary

But there’s that sting in his heart and that dizziness in his head

That can only be described as loss.

Thanks for reading!

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #nanami kento #nanami x reader #angst #geto suguru #getou suguru x reader #x reader #fanfic #fyp #headcanons #x y/n #for you page

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greythemed · 10 months

Text

𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ bloodhounds . kim gun-woo

˚ TITLE 𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ polymyxin b. ˚ WORD COUNT 𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ 9005 (i am so sorry).

“stop pressing it, you dumbass!”. you exclaim in discomfort, but shamefully not because of you.

“it’s just a bruise, some nebacetin will do it”. your boyfriend’s reaction was pissing you off more than his colleague’s grunting behind you.

“it’s not just a bruise, that was metal they were hitting you with”. your angry tone left space for your saddened one and gun-woo did not like it at all. “why did you guys agree on that anyway?!”.

“it was his idea”, they both said it simultaneously, pointing fingers at each other that made you roll your eyes.

“ya, y/n”. woo-jin called you. “don’t be so mean to him, he dodged almost every punch wonsuk-subaenim threw at him”.

was that supposed to calm you down? a middle finger was pointed at the older man next to your boyfriend, gun-woo laughing and woo-jin reaction was to scold you.

"aish-", he gets up to grab a towel and you laugh a little seeing woo-jin's response. "i miss when your girlfriend wasn't a professional doctor, gunwoo-ya". gun-woo smiles shyly and you return to your job on your boyfriend's abs.

"shut up, old man". you ignored him.

"see?! she doesn't respect me!". it was your turn to laugh, ignoring him completely once again.

“i can’t work properly without some soothing paste, gun-woo, look at this mess”, the frustration was evident in your voice, manicured hand tracing his right side carefully which made the boy a little sad and impatient.

“it’s okay jagiya, don’t worry too much”. he turned to you after throwing a nasty looking at his best friend for not helping and held your face in his hands. he hated to admit that he could see tears forming in your eyes. “we can take a look after napping today, what do you think? you must be exhausted”.

the brutal difference between your little hand and his almost pierced skin shamefully stole his attention for a couple of minutes. without even noticing, your other hand grabbed his shorts so tightly it was starting to color your knuckles white.

worriedly, gun-woo laced his fingers with yours and made him eye-level with you, damp hair and sweaty armpits ticking his brain saying you should shower after a training session that long but his mind was nowhere near worrying about himself.

“hey, look at me”. his voice sounded lenient enough that even woo-jin got quiet on the other side of the room. "it's okay, baby, i'm gonna be fine".

“you’re the one that should be exhausted, not me”. you complain about his kindness, starry eyes becoming glossy minute after minute, making the man in front of you almost panic.

“don’t think i don’t know you’ve been working the whole day”. he says brushing your hair behind your ear. “mr. seo said you’ve been taking your colleagues' shifts too”.

your pout only grows like a kid being caught stealing candies at a party. it was so frustrating dating a boxer when you built your whole life around saving people's lives, choosing the most efficient predicament to help someone on the verge of dying, or physically taking matters into your own hands to avoid any nasty side-effects that could change a person's life forever.

leaving patients behind to suffer wasn't an option for you, let alone postpone the pains and unattended injuries of your loved ones.

“the skin, gun-woo”, you return to ramble and point at the purple bruise on his body. “it needs bacitracin and polymyxin b otherwise it’s going to get pretty ugly. imagine the metal pierced your skin? that would be the end, god".

“baby, stop thinking about it”. he lifts your chin so you’d stop looking at the bruise. “i won and that’s what matters, right? just one more week and we’re going to the finals half, it’ll be over soon”.

a pout was formed and your lips quivered. honestly, you’ve never cried in front of gun-woo before and his reaction was pure terrific. you didn’t know what got you so worked up after the match against his stupid coach and that stupid ugly machine, but you winced every time his grunts on the ring got louder and louder.

a couple of minutes into the last round, you regretted coming to see his training, he kind of forgot to tell you that it wasn't the usual gym sessions anymore, and now they were approaching a more realistic season of monthly fights coordinated by his coach.

you hated his coach from now on and that was final.

gun-woo’s eyes were round and full of stress when you cleaned the first tear that have fallen on your left cheek, averting your gaze to the table behind him and trying to distract yourself.

“people with skin infections have a higher risk of low immune responses and vice-versa”, you continue, “they can vary from mild to serious”. gun-woo grips your arm.

"jagi".

"are your vaccines up to date?". you asked him and he nodded. "god, that could've turned into a fucking lockjaw or something, gun-woo". he looked at you with pity and panicked.

"i'm okay, see?". he points to his sweaty chest. "we came to the doc appointment last week and we were all good, right, hyung?". gun-woo glances at woo-jin silently asking for help.

unfortunately, gun-woo was inexperienced in this dating thing and sometimes needed the help of his dramatic hyung.

"oh, yes, yes, yes. the doctor said we were new as a baby and wonsuk-ssi even congratulated us". the boxer held his thumbs up in an exagerated sign and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. "the diet has been doing good for us! stop worrying too much kid, you're sounding like his mom".

why did he have to be so drama queen-orientated?

you looked at your boyfriend with glassy eyes and a red nose, turning your back to woo-jin so he couldn't see your crying expression and hopeless state. you trusted the man with your life just as gun-woo did, but something about the ugly-looking bruise on your boyfriend's side was starting to look too scary for you.

"neomycin, compression, elevation, and a bruise-healing diet can also help speed up the healing process, but that looks scary". breathing deeply, you point to the injured local and grimace. "15—20 minutes of ice packs for 3—4 days will do it unless the skin is pierced". you pause, talking to yourself. "we better get going or you'll start bleeding soon".

"jagi".

"arnica gel is useless here". you take a step forward and breathe deeply again. "fuck it, i'm applying vaseline if it gets worse".

"y/n". gun-woo called you but none was working.

"tell me if it starts bleeding, please? do not press it or else the blood will fuck everything up".

“woah, she is a stress-talker i can see”. on the other side of the changing room, woo-jin's comment makes you think he deserves death, you were sure of it.

“aish-, will you stop?”. gun-woo hugged your head in his chest and grimaced at his best friend next to the door. he was starting to get frustrated with your state and didn't know what to do.

woo-jin also came to see the fight but it turns out he was only making things worse in this moment.

“what? i am too!”. woo-jin defends. “i get all talkative when i’m stressed, but just not all of that smart stuff she sayin’”.

“jagi, we’re going home yeah?”. gun-woo patted your shoulder, dismissing his friend and looking at you. “there you can take a closer look and then we order food, hm?”.

your boyfriend was waiting for your response when he got a change of plans.

“sounds good!”. woo-jin exclaimed and you could feel your boyfriend rolling his eyes.

you swear to god woo-jin wasn’t usually this persistent.

gun-woo ignored him, which you found a little cute in your opinion, and even laughed a little.

“okay, but you’ll have to promise me to rest tonight”. you look up at his eyes and your boyfriend smiles. it was different to have someone other than his annoying best hyung or his mother worrying about his well-being, and for sure it was the first time someone this 'brainly' took care of him.

after being alone for so long, gun-woo appreciated your nurturing nature like no other and wanted to stop the negative feelings blooming in your chest right now.

“okay, i promise”. he presses a quick kiss on your lips, which was accompanied by a little wince since he had to bend down to your height to reach your face.

"aigoo, i'm sorry". you grimaced apologetically.

he smiled and turned to reach for his shirt beside you, putting it on while waiting for you to pick his things up. gun-woo had to admit that was the most intense fake match his coach had put him into. maybe you were right and he should rest tonight.

"i met him first". gun-woo can hear woo-jin's voice threatening you at the door. he only went to wave his coach goodbye and came back for a bickering woo-jin and a pouty y/n. "he was just fine when it was only me and him".

"you smell like belly pork and not in a good way". you replied.

"aish-, respect your elders, kid". woo-jin's eyes were round and menacing. "i saved his life more than once, okay? we are brothers at heart, we even share our clothes!".

"his mom loves me, she even cooked me bulgogi when we first met!". that was you on your tip-toes beckoning woo-jin to the door, a man at least seven inches taller than you. his face was frightened and his hands were defensively in front of him. "and i know exactly when to turn the grill on when we're going out!".

gun-woo's shirt was too tight for him to keep listening to your argument, and he definitely was starting to feel his right side itching when the tissue came in contact with the bruise.

"aish-, that was one time!". woo-jin defended. "and you'll never know how a boxer's spirit works because we invented it".

"liar! you said you preferred mayweather when you guys first met, and i know this because he told me himself".

"oh please i am a manny pacquiao enthusiast at heart and forever will be. and! i've also seen his d-".

"ya, would you both stop?". gun-woo interrupted his friend with a glare, warily pulling you back so you wouldn't hit his friend across his face. "i'm tired and it's getting late".

"he started". you pointed at the older man. "and i've seen more than his dick, you old".

"ya!". gun-woo looks at you affronted and woo-jin starts laughing, hiding his mouth when gun-woo pretends to hit him.

"she gots quite the temper, bro". woo-jin had to point it out. "woo, i'm excited! finally someone who matches my energy".

"you both should stop". your boyfriend tsks and you look at him smiling. "and you shouldn't listen to him". he says.

"don't say it like we're finished, boxer". you threaten woo-jin with your eyes and gun-woo has to stand between both of you so you wouldn't jump the man scaringly.

"ya, take good care of my lil bro for me, yeah?". he taps gun-woo's shoulders and they both smile at each other intensively.

"aish-, it looks like you're both exactly in love, stop that".

"yes! she's getting jealous!". woo-jin exclaims.

"hyung, you're wife is waiting for you, just go". gun-woo whines at the man and he smiles, seeming to finally remember he has his own real lover. "woah, that's true, i'm going!". woo-jin starts running down the hall and waving at both of you goodbye, finally letting your boyfriend go smiling like an idiot.

gun-woo takes his bag from your shoulders and you both start walking down the hall hand in hand. for now, you choose to silence your concerns about the big boy and just plan a peaceful ride back to your home.

"take your clothes off". your voice sounded a little too low for gun-woo's liking and he couldn't suppress a smile. glancing at you, he couldn't help but find his all-black gym set a little out of place in your all-pink bedroom. to no surprise, you perfectly fit in the pastel colors you were wearing.

"buy me a dinner first, sailor". he had to joke looking at you and taking his tight gym shirt off. instantly, he felt his side ache. something damp ran down his ribs and gun-woo cursed when he spotted blood in the rem of his shorts.

well, wasn't that just great?

looking at the bathroom mirror, he grimaced pressing the purple and red spot with his other hand.

"don't". you came from nowhere, taking his bigger hand off of him and analyzing the situation with - what your boyfriend liked to call - doctor face. a first-aid kit was on your arms the instant you glanced at the little blood accumulating on the bruise. gun-woo attentively stared at your facial expressions worried about what you were going to do.

to his surprise, only a sigh escaped your lips, and the boxer was guided to sit on the bathtub behind him, your little hand holding two of his fingers so he could follow you. it was funny how larger his frame was compared to yours in the small white bathroom.

"does it hurt a lot?". you ask worriedly wiping his skin.

"no". he wasn't necessarily lying, you both knew how pain tolerance worked for gun-woo. "just itchy". he made a face and clicked his tongue boringly.

you looked attentively at the injury while avoiding your hands on the more reddened area.

gun-woo thought your size was the perfect complement to your cute personality. when he first met you, your height was the first thing that he noticed after your soft hair. of course, accompanied by your scary father he didn't dare to even look at your way properly, but his first impression of you was something the boy held dearly in his heart.

your smart brain was when everything became blurry to the boxer. for a recently graduated student, gun-woo knew your knowledge was freshly put into place, and added to the great things he had heard about your intellect before meeting your father, he knew you were smart. but imagine the surprise when he first saw you dealing with your father's disease from up-close, admiring your basically perfect approach and ripeness to everything handed to you.

it didn't click him. how could someone so delicate-looking be so splendidly clever and loveable at the same time. he thought it was unfair the fact that you were so effortlessly sexy in his eyes. and that was a first for the boxer.

you were his first everything.

"this has to have knocked the air out of your lungs". you state while kneeling on the floor in front of him, making the boy gulp and avert his gaze suddenly embarrassed.

“hm, yeah”. he gulped even harder. “but just for a moment, though. coach didn’t want to stop”.

between his parted legs, you were insinuating things he had trouble forgetting, and with one more glance at you, he had to part his lips surprised because jesus christ, why were you tying your goddamn hair?

"i'm talking to wonsuk-subaenim about this no matter what". you looked up at him and he quickly averted his gaze. "that stupid machine has to go away".

two weeks ago. in this same bathroom. you were wearing your pink PJs late at night and he swore he had never seen your lips that glossy. the position was the same. he remembers it all too well and has to shake his head to not make things harder for him.

"jagi-".

"i'm serious, gun-woo". now was his turn to sigh. why were you pretending this didn't do anything to you? was he the creepy one? oh god, he definitely was the creepy one.

his eyes were as round as a golf ball as he looked at your innocent expression and silently cursed his inappropriate thoughts.

gun-woo swore he wasn't like this before meeting you. he was a decent young man with respectable beliefs and a proud mother that admired and trusted him blindly.

being an athlete, gun-woo was often proclaimed for his self-control and disciplined routines. now, only a glance at your smooth skin without too much clothing was enough to have the man spiraling and sweating.

four months ago he wasn't like this.

"it's the second time this happens. remember that day in your mom's apartment? you told me you'd take more care of yourself". you continue to speak nonchalantly, rambling your frustrations to the man.

"it was a snap kick i wasn't ready for". he clears his throat hoping to not sound too raspy. "coach didn't tell me on time". you suppress the urge to roll your eyes.

"i am going to need an elastic bandage for this". you say more to yourself, warm hands inspecting the swelled area while your boyfriend examines your face panicked. because why were you so close to his fucking crotch? "and also a heating pad to clear up the trapped blood. will you hold it for me?". you ask him to hold the warm cloth while you searched for more things for help in the first-aid kit.

"baby, could you work on this side first?". he shyly asked, thick thighs trapping you in place to gather your attention. the boxer had to summon all the courage in the world to politely ask you this. the little yelp you let out because of the sudden touch made him blush involuntarily. "s-sorry".

his voice was so low and raspy that made you question what the hell was going on. even involuntarily, his voice always gave him in.

"oh my god, did i hurt you?". you worriedly questioned, getting up quickly so you could examine him from afar.

"no, no". he waves it off, gulping a few times so the embarrassment could pass.

it wasn't working.

"it's just that... that position". he pointed to the floor where you were previously sitting and saw exactly the moment your expression changed.

"what?". your confusion was clearly shown by your knitted brows and opened mouth.

"the position you were in... you know...". he gulped more times than he could count and could feel the fire his cheeks were on at that moment. only when his hands fled to his crotch area as if trying to hide something that your brain finally clicked.

"kim geun-woo, is that a boner? oh my god". he grimaced embarrassingly. "how could you think of things like that when your skin is basically peeling?!".

"c'mon, baby, i was trying to be discreet". he interrupts you, dying to pull your hands so he could properly apologize to you but you kept getting away. "i'm sorry, it's just that it triggered a memory of us a while ago and you tied your hair and everything and my brain stopped braining".

"you need to go to church, you pervert". his pout was something you were accustomed to, and his shy whines were a great reminder that, even if your boyfriend looked like a war trunk and sculpted by the sky itself, he still was stupidly timid when it came to things like this. "i'm joking". you laugh and he rambles.

"i'm not asking for anything! just s-stay here". he points to the floor next to his right leg, a different space from where you were before. "please".

"how long have you been like this?". a shit-earing grin was starting to adorn your face, almost forgetting about the important task you had at hand.

"i-i'm not asking anything, i swear". he repeats in despair. "i don't want you to feel uncomfortable, please".

"uncomfortable?". you approach him laughing. "baby, you're my boyfriend for a reason, you could never make me uncomfortable. that happens sometimes, no need to feel embarrassed about it".

"well, i'm just worried sometimes because of... you know what". instantly, your heart grew all soft.

"oh my god, are you talking about what i told you the other day?". your round eyes were glued to the man in front of you, hands swiftly caressing his sweaty hair while you fought the urge to kiss his forehead.

"you said you didn't have great experiences in the past and, even though i wonder sometimes, i don't feel like it would be nice to ask you which ones. so i try to just avoid situations like this so you won't think of me as just another dirty-minded creep". he explains and you kiss him.

you wanted to cry. and suck the life out of him. at the same time. because that's just how dating kim geun-woo makes you feel.

"i'd never think of you in that way, oppa". you hugged his head on your chest and he nosely laughed, finally relieved for not completely fucking things up. "i would suck you anytime, anywhere you want, you know that". you say and he looks up at you seriously.

"ya, stop teasing".

"i'm serious, i literally am in love with you and your co-".

"oh my god, you need church". he closes his eyes and breathes deeply, trying to take control of his own body.

"you're like the most romantic and sweetest guy a girl could ever want. and then your dick had to be big too!".

"ya!". gun-woo looked serious and you smiled at that. what he didn't notice was that he was gripping your ass unconsciously in his nervous state.

"pervert". you whispered in his ear and he immediately stopped.

"i'm going to go, woojin-hyung is not so mean to me as you are". he pretends to start getting up and you hold his arms laughing. his whiny tone was so cute you could die.

"i'm sorry, sorry! it's just so easy to mess with you". he glared at you and you smirked. "i can't let an injured man run around the streets alone, especially an uncontrolled one".

"just wait for this fucking thing to heal, y/n". you opened your mouth in shock. was that veins popping on his temples?

"language!".

"sorry, sorry, can you please do your job?".

you laughed at that and kneeled at his side, sensing that he was starting to become frustrated. you weren't sure why, but at this beginning of your sexual life, you found yourself often giving in to his wishes afraid that you are stepping into a hole with no way up.

gun-woo made you feel safe - not uncomfortable in any way. but sometimes you doubted the man was engaged in this type of thing at all because he seemed to skip any opportunity he has to rock your world daily. you trusted him and respected his slow pace.

you made the order in your head, soothing the area with some polymyxin b and nebacetin, soothing oils for the itchy feeling to go away, and vaseline to keep the wound moist. after that, you wrapped the bruise with an elastic bandage and gently pressed the heated cloth there for a few minutes.

too tempted, you sneaked a glance at your boyfriend's shorts.

"oh my god, it's huge".

for one second, you thought you were flying across the bathroom and the other you realized gun-woo had got up so fast you fell backward and hit your head on the marble floor. the pain shoots straight to your neck and ear almost instantly.

"omo!". gun-woo came to the rescue in panic, seeing what he has done. "are you alright?". he asked worried.

"it was a compliment, idiot!". you screamed at him, grimacing at the new feeling in your head. "what is wrong with you?".

"so now it's my fault?". he defended. "you're not supposed to be saying things like that when is not sexy time!".

“don’t say ‘sexy time’!”.

“you can’t keep doing this, i’m trying to be polite here!”.

"i was just teasing you!". you glanced at his stoic face and got up with his help, patting your head where it hurt most, thankful to find no blood in the area.

"it turns me on!". he confessed and for a minute you were glued to the ground. "it makes me want to take you to bed and have sexy time when you're all bratty and mouthy". his raspidly voice said and you had to grip the counter behind you so you wouldn't fall again.

what did he just tell you?

"oh". it was your turn to feel the fire on your cheeks. "i-i didn't know, i'm sorry, i thought...". you guiltily gulped staring at gun-woo's chest before looking him in the eyes.

"i'm trying to take things slow but you don't help, y/n". the sincerity in his raspy voice made you almost want to shy away. forwardness never looked so sexy in someone like it does to him. "i'm not that experienced, you know that, so i don't know what you like and don't like and that makes me scared to fuck it up. and, god, that makes me fucking insane because all i can think about is you all the time".

your sweaty palms gripped the bloodied rem of his shorts and you closed the gap between the two of you, steading your wobbly feet with gun-woo's help. the proximity made him crazy and you could see the mental battle he was going through in his head. you pecked his lips three times before whispering.

"why be scared?". your starry eyes locked him in place and gun-woo swore he couldn't move, your question making him confused. "i also want you all the time, oppa. i think of you all the time, that's why is so hard for me to see you getting hurt and i want to cry my eyes out when it happens. you drive me crazy, oppa".

"i'm sorry". you didn't know he was talking about what have happened in the ring or about what he was going to do to you because suddenly his expanded pupils made his eyes get darker and darker and you were almost crying from the anticipation of feeling him anywhere.

"i'm worried you'll get more hurt". one of your hands traveled to his injured side, never leaving his gaze. "you should... i'm sorry, gun-woo, we shouldn't-".

"you promise to tell me if anything feels wrong?". he cuts you off by arching your back and locking his eyes with you, entirely invading your personal space. "if you don't like something, do you promise to make me stop? because i swear to god i can't take it anymore, y/n". he whispered the last part on your mouth and you swore the cat got your tongue for a minute.

"uhum". you nod your head and gun-woo stayed still, arching his brows as if challenging you not to finish the sentence. "i promise, oppa". you said breathly, eyes focused on his and nowhere else.

you could feel all of gun-woo's desire pulsing deliciously beneath him, hard and voluminous, inciting your intimacy to slowly release lubricant.

you were curious. his face was cute and his body was a sin, but not all of the morals and good mannerisms in the world could hide the true desire of a person. you knew he always wanted more and you were so curious to find out what exactly his innocent brain had conjured in all these months of dating you.

gun-woo panted softly, having complete control of your body now that your toes were barely touching the ground, back arching even more while he took a deep breath next to your ear. and then he started teasing his own body as he rocked back and forth, slowly, in search of relief. and using you.

you kissed his neck, and there was when you worked him up with little kisses and shy licks, making him more and more susceptible to pleasure. gun-woo was such a selfless person that he felt scared of taking instead of giving and you wanted to prove him wrong. you wanted to prove to him that sex is good regardless of your position.

you didn't count on his strength in moments like this, but he was a boxer, after all, so you were silly to think he would take it easy on you. only one minute in and his grip was so strong on your skin that you were certain your ass was battered, squeezed, and still under the fabric of your slacks.

you knew his body all too well, you saw him naked countless times and so did he with you in the last 4 months. but never he did what he wanted with you. too shy, too aware, too scared to ask you. because that's just what gun-woo was.

selfless.

he pulled your face away from his neck so that he could bring his full lips to yours. you were kissed at the pace he dictated, in the way he wanted, fast and wild. both of your tongues collided in a hot, pleasurable slide.

you swore this wasn't the same man who had blushed at remembering you sucking him off minutes ago.

gun-woo sucked hard on your voluminous lips every time he withdrew his tongue, which you insisted on sucking in the most erotic way possible whenever he invaded your mouth. meanwhile, your hips were manipulated by the boxer's hands, which made them rise and fall slowly on his still-covered cock.

your hips were placed on the counter and you finally realized you didn't have much place to run after that. you were trapped between your sink and a 6ft tall man in front of you with sirened eyes that could kill you.

your pants gradually gained moisture, and the moan you let out when gun-woo gripped your ass with more force maddened the boxer even more, making him stop the kiss and go down with his stimulations on your neck and collarbone, seconds later capturing one of your clothed nipples between his lips and sucking it.

you bit your bottom lip and intertwined your fingers in gun-woo's hair, with his head tilted up, eyes closed and lips parting as he let out gasps of pure delight. the moan you let out when he invaded your pants with his hands and started unbuttoning your jeans and unconsciously scraping your clit was so purely erotic that even he grunted.

"sorry". his gruff voice was rushed as if he felt bad for you but at the same time didn't actually give a shit and was only trying to be polite - trying not to lose his complete sanity.

which was slowly faltering.

you pushed his head against your chest in response, undulating your hips over his hard prominence and the boxer's reaction was to feel a painful twinge in his pelvis and moan.

he raised his head, eyes even darker, then glared at you. he touched your chin with his thumb and slid it across your lips while breathing deeply.

you reached into his pants and touched him, initiating continuous movements along his entire length. gun-woo's lips parted and his brows furrowed, giving you the most obscene view you've ever seen of his face.

hot scar glowing in his sweaty skin and cutting the right side of his entire cheek.

his body was getting hotter, your body was getting hotter, his cock getting harder and your pussy getting wetter. it was painful to repress his own urges.

"fuck". you brought his dick out of his shorts and jerked it off, hands almost trembling with so much tenseness your crotch area was feeling. getting him off made you want to cry.

gun-woo closed his eyes and gasped when you massaged his glans wet by pre-cum.

"oppa". you called him in such a whiny tone that made him go crazy, hiding his face on your neck and biting his lips until it draw blood to his mouth. "i c-can't". you tried to say and his ears perked up. "i'm too wet, i d-don't know what to do". it was embarrassing for you to confess something like that, but hearing gun-woo's grunts and quiet moans was making you wetter and wetter. and you weren't lying, you actually didn't know what to do because you've never been this turned on before.

what the hell?

"fuck, don't call me that, baby". he breathed on your neck and for a second you were afraid he could smell your fucking pre-cum pooling on your panties.

"stop moaning in my ear, for fuck's sake". you didn't know where the strength to say a full sentence came from suddenly but you were afraid a simple touch of the man was going to make you fucking cum.

is this how you feel when you fuck someone you love? mighty skies above, you'll have to do this every day now.

"what do you want me to do when you won't stop squeezing my fucking dick, princess?". his voice sounded more like a growl than an actual human sound and you whined even louder in return.

you arched your body as he trailed his fingertips along your back, intensifying the contact of his thigh against your intimacy. you parted your lips and let out a high moan in response to his touches.

suddenly, you were so sensitive you could cry.

gun-woo felt your grip on his dick falter as if giving him a break. finally, the man could breathe properly again.

the next second, you felt your lips numb with such force that gun-woo sucked them, your body limp as he ultimately took control of your body.

not platonically, but literally.

"fuck, gun-... please".

like a ragdoll, he manhandled you in a position where your cunt was pressed directly on his flexed thigh, making you cry. frustratingly kicking your pants off of you, gun-woo helped you strip the rest of your clothes off before positioning you in the same place as before and teasing your bare pussy lips with his muscles.

you felt him capturing your left nipple and massaging it with his thumb, hearing your sighs between the kiss. as he stimulated the areola, he felt it getting rigid. gun-woo introduced his tongue into your mouth and played with your whiny moans.

your body was tactful to the boxer's touch, and when you felt the digits tightening around your areola, you couldn't help but dig your toes into his butt and moan muffledly, with gun-woo's tongue entering and leaving your mouth, slowly.

a trickle of saliva ran down the corner of the man's mouth. he closed his eyes to focus on the sensations. your excited pussy continued to be stimulated by his thigh, as well as your chest. he was still sucking your tongue when he felt his member pulsate painfully, brushing on your other thigh and moving a little farther to the left, bringing both of your crotches together and beginning a slow rub, undulating his hips in such a way that you stopped sucking his tongue and gasped in delight, squeezing his biceps tighter.

"gun-woo".

he kissed your lips and bit the bottom one, slowly pulling it away from your teeth.

his mouth moved down your jaw and onto your neck, where he could hear your gasps more audibly as he tongue-kissed the warm, milky skin of your throat, careful to leave pretty marks in his travel. his fingers were sadly no longer playing with your nipples, now they were on your bent thigh, holding it firmly as he rubbed himself shamelessly against your body.

gun-woo was using you to get off.

sensing what your boyfriend was finally doing, you cocked your head and with heavy, fluttering eyelids, watched your boyfriend's unholy face in pure delight. parted lips, messy hair, and one of your legs wrapped around him.

you watched, full of lust, as the boxer rubbed himself on you. kissing your neck ardently to the point of trembling eyes.

you already felt your opening releasing natural lubrication and wondered why haven't this man done this to you before.

"i can't anymore, gun-woo. p-please".

"please? do you need something, princess?". he spoke softly but with full of warning.

"fuck... you. need you".

"yeah right, you do". his comment was so lowered that you wondered if you had imagined it for a second. "need you too, princess, don't worry".

in a swift moment, your torso was thrown directly in his chest, your arms circling his neck for purchase while gun-woo hugged your body and finally walked towards your bedroom. when you said you were a ragdoll was because you felt like one, being tossed in the bed without an ounce of strength in your limbs and you weren't even fucked yet.

he then grabbed your waist again and kissed you, meanwhile, you took his shorts off completely, admiring the messy state he made with his liquids. gun-woo grabbed your ass once again and squeezed them, sliding his fingers through the partition between them and smearing all over your ass with his own lubrication.

oh my god. this man was sick.

"oppa". you called him whiny.

he climbed off the bed and pulled you to the edge simultaneously, manhandling your body as he wished. when both of your feet hit the floor, he tore his lips from yours and looked at you.

"do you mind?". for a second, his old innocent eyes shined in the pink light your bedroom had on. sincerely, your mind was too sex-hazed to even process he was talking to you in the first place, so you just tried to focus on his face and smile. "turning around?". he motioned with his fingers a cute circle and your eyes rounded dangerously.

"back?". you pointed to the bed and then at you, voice hoarse from all the torturous moaning.

"uhum". his smile was so pure you wanted to punch him in the face, nodding his head excitingly as if he wasn't asking you to expose your cunt in the air for him.

"a-all f-fours?". you asked him again, surprised and feeling your brain all fluffy inside.

"if you don't want, that's okay". for a moment, you felt his uncommon confidence falter and you were quick to reassure him.

"no, i want to". your doe eyes held all the stars in the sky, gun-woo was sure of it.

"ok". he smiled like a kid.

"ok?". you were too stunned to form coherent sentences.

"ok?". he asked confused, waiting for you to turn around with expectant eyes and arched brows.

"ok". you nodded your head finally.

again, he grabbed your waist, pressing his pelvis to your ass as you turned around. gun-woo started attacking your nape with chaste kisses that made their way to your neck, where he left hickeys and bites. you cocked your head to the side, leaving your neck completely free for the man to make as many purple and red marks as he wanted.

quickly, gun-woo left you to search for his shorts on the floor. when he came back, he surprisingly handed the condom to you, a silent request for you to put it on him which almost made you choke.

upon receiving it, you opened the package and took your hands back, touching the boxer's length. simultaneously, gun-woo slid his hands along your curves and massaged your breasts, making you fail on the first try of putting the condom on. a low moan escaped your mouth, but you didn't stop concentrating on holding your boyfriend's cock and positioning the condom on the glans, then holding the tip and unrolling it completely to the base.

you positioned the glans between your heat and thrust it into yourself, having to bite your lower lip to contain your murmurs due to the burning sensation. gun-woo hugged your body and let himself slide in slowly, with his forehead pressed against your shoulder. you opened your mouth and a breathless groan left your mouth painfully.

"opp-".

gun-woo's eyes opened slowly, just to enjoy the view from below, where his cock slowly came out of your hole, and seconds later, it went back inside a little faster.

"fuuck". his voice was gruff, head empty, and only the feeling of your walls gripping his member inside of you running through his mind. "fuck, princess”.

you threw your head up and brought your right hand back, tangling your fingers in his hair. your brows shaped like your entire face in a set of pained and pleasurable expressions. you felt the heat every time gun-woo entered and exited, but it also felt wonderfully good to feel his cock opening you.

"fuck you". you couldn't help but curse, vaginal canal struggling to keep his member inside as he slide out of you every time. "gun-woo, please, i c-can't". you felt your cheeks wet, confirming to both of you that you were crying over a man's cock.

gladly.

"breathe for me, princess, fuck". he stopped inside you, letting you accommodate him calmly. your moan when he pinched your clit was feral.

"big, big, big". was all you could say and the boxer started to want to laugh.

"hey, princess, you're hearing me?". you breathed deeply. “c’mon, don’t be so cock-dumbed already”.

“fuck you”. was all you could say, twitching around him like crazy.

"we can't stop if it's not what you like-".

"i swear to god, i'm going to kill you. don't stop!". you screamed. painfully.

"hey, you're too tight, jagiya. you need to breathe for me first, yeah?". gun-woo himself was struggling to contain his urge to fuck you relentlessly, but he wanted you to enjoy this as well. "fuck, you're squeezing the fuck out of me, prin-".

"i c-cant. too fucking stretched, gun-woo".

"we've done this before baby, remember? i know you can, now relax for me. i'm feeling a bump on your stomach here". he pressed the bulge and you keened, juices leaking everywhere between your legs.

“i’m so wet”. you didn’t know who you were talking to anymore if it was to him or yourself.

again, you were crying and involuntarily relaxed your lower half, turning limp in your boyfriend's arms and arching your back more making him hit a new angle.

"shit-". you moaned and he felt his member twitch because of the contraction. "that's it, that's it, good girl". he breathed deeply when he could move again, relieved to have some breathing space.

without warning, gun-woo penetrated you fast and rough, making your small body propel forward, and the only thing that kept you from falling was his firm hands on your waist.

a moan escaped your lips and the rest of them died on your throat when your eyes rolled back and gun-woo hit a new angle.

the boxer smirked. gun-woo knew perfectly well how to tease you.

he then squeezed your hips and wrapped his digits in your hair. for the next moment, he withdrew from inside you and came back again, fast and hard, eliciting moans from your drooling mouth. as much as your eager moans were constant, gun-woo continued to fuck you mercilessly, without chastity, inserting himself completely without stopping. the erotic noise of your bodies colliding became frequent, echoing throughout the room and almost moving your bed from its place multiple times.

the moans became louder and more constant, and if it weren't for the firm touch of gun-woo's hands in your hair and hips, you would certainly collapse on the mattress. a trickle of lubricant ran down between your legs, and the excess made gun-woo's cock penetrate more easily into you.

you let out a high-pitched moan, the loudest yet.

gun-woo smiled happily, almost proudly, starting to thrust in the same place, which generated a sequence of loud and tearful moans coming from you.

"fuck". he cursed once, twice, and countless times with how good your pussy felt. gun-woo was losing his mind with no restraints and overthinking.

you moaning his name was beautiful, too wonderful not to be heard and appreciated, and gun-woo wished you would call his name louder and louder so everyone would know you were his.

as much as he was yours.

"princess, you there?". he worriedly asked, sensing your lack of words and quiet whines while he fucked you.

"hmm". you couldn't speak, that was on period. it didn't matter how much you tried, your eyes were too rolled back in your head for you to make sense.

and gun-woo being the wonderful boyfriend that he was, started kissing your shoulders and the back of your neck, silently saying to you that it was okay to feel so good you turned completely non-verbal.

you bit your bottom lip and, glancing over your shoulder at the worried boxer, you threw your hips back and forward, repeating the same movement signaling you were okay.

gun-woo, on the other hand, had to tightly close his eyes and suppress a growl at your hips undulating while he was still inside. the veins on his neck, arms, and hand were surely evident while he hold his breath.

somehow, you sped up your movements, and little by little, the noise of both of your bodies colliding became louder, more frequent, hotter. you whimpered when gun-woo's glans hit your sensitive spot again, and it didn't take long for your orgasm to threaten to come.

you stopped bouncing and rolled slowly, contracting, the boxer's entire cock inside you.

"i'm cumming". you exclaimed. "can i cum? fuck, gun-woo".

he then grabbed your hair again and put the side of your face against the mattress, and in that position, you were able to see the reflection of your bodies in the wardrobe mirror. and when you thought that your pleasure could not increase, the opposite was proved when you watched gun-woo's hips investing quickly in yourself, while his face was a mixture of pleasure and lust.

your small doe eyes rolled back and your vision became more blurred, your fingers dug hard into the mattress, pulling it and squeezing it between your hands. your eyes water and you mentally asked him not to stop.

"so good". gun-woo grunted in your ear and that was your last thread, squirting everywhere your pussy reached and making a mess of gun-woo's legs. the heat you felt on your cheeks was so intense you started to feel embarrassed.

panting for air, your body couldn’t stop twitching and your muscles couldn’t stop contracting around gun-woo’s member. for a moment, your brain was only white and you were certain you were crying for fuck’s sake.

"jesus christ, what was that?". the man was marveled and lust-hazed, too surprised to notice you were almost passing out.

"baby, please". you whispered weakly, gun-woo slowing down his movements and reaching for your face.

"princess?". his tone was worried for a minute too long. "are you good?".

"squirt". you try to say, feeling your brain too hazed to work properly. "i just s-squirted".

"oh", gun-woo's face was too innocent for someone who had his cock deep inside you, in your opinion, and you hated it. "you gripped me so tight, i thought i was dying". he laughed meaningly and you glanced back at him through the mirror with horror. how could he react like that?

the next thing you know your eyes were as round as your mouth and your lungs were burning with the lack of air. you moaned uncoordinated, finding it hard to distinguish when your pussy stopped spasming and gave him room to move again.

"what do you think you're doing, gun-woo-!?". your scream was cut short by the man thrusting into you again. with full force.

your legs trembled with pleasure, and then they failed to hold themselves together. seeing that you would collapse on the bed, he laid down on top of you and held both of your closed fists, accelerating the penetration even more, which, due to the position, made you tighter.

your clit pressed against the mattress caused friction that only added to the maximum overstimulation. gun-woo took your hands to your pussy lips and made you pull the bands one on each side.

"keep it open for me please, princess?". he asked menacingly, another orgasm starting to build inside you.

"gun-woo!". this man was sick.

"cum with me this time, yeah, jagi?". he whispered in your ear, face turned to your reflection in the mirror and staring right back at your eyes.

"i'm gonna cum-". you affirmed.

"c'mon baby, just a sec, will ya?".

you closed your eyes and tried to hold back, however, gun-woo continued to fuck you deliciously. couldn't hold it anymore. that was final. having your clit constantly hit and neck kissed was too much to delay your orgasm any longer.

the overstimulation was killing you.

"gun-woo, i can't".

"i'm cumming, baby". he grunted out of breath. "cum with me, princess".

and as if it were magic words, you reached your orgasm right when he closed his mouth, followed by a slick and louder moan, making your whole body tremble with the wonderful spasms. breathing was frantic, and his hands were lying at your sides. gun-woo was still fucking in search of his own orgasm.

you contracted around him, squeezing him and, consequently, increasing his pleasure, and that was the climax for the boxer, who finally came deliciously inside the condom.

he was in heaven. searching for something to hold his sanity onto.

his nonexisted sanity.

you kissed him, in an attempt to distract both of you from the thoughtless state of mind. gun-woo turned your body with one hand and collapsed on top of you just after. your yelp was soundless to the boxer, head too pleasured for not stuffing his nose on your hair and trying to compose his fucking mind.

"you there?", gun-woo's voice was muffled by your skin, body too subtle under his.

"everything burns". you admitted in a whisper, throat flaming for moaning so loud.

"i think your neighbor will have complaints tomorrow". the man on top of you smirked and nosely laughed.

"don’t laugh, it’s your fault. you're crashing me, oppa". you whined trying to pull him off of you but not being able to move one muscle.

"omo, 'm sorry". he got off of you and smiled looking at you, almost shy to see your flushed face.

you smiled weakly in return and gun-woo took the condom off of him, making a knot and throwing it on the floor, next to the bed, to throw it away later. he settled on top of your body again and leaned on his forearms, and after facing you and smiling tenderly at your disorientated state, he kissed you tenderly.

you cupped his face and returned the kiss, calm but as delicious as any other one you both had. your hands were shaking while holding his chin and the man seemed to notice. his breathing was still labored, and because of that, he stopped the kiss but continued with both of your foreheads together, noses brushing against each other and lips open.

the two of you were sweaty, you were tired.

"you were amazing, oppa". your raspy voice came in contact with his ears and gun-woo tried to hide his burning cheeks on your neck again, you stop him and stared right back into his eyes.

"really?”. you giggled and he laughed at your hazy gaze. he then started sliding the digits of his right hand by your waist. "you're the one to blame".

"i love you". gun-woo smiled widely and you followed suit, without much exaggeration.

gun-woo tilted his head down and stared at your face; rosy cheeks, closed eyes and chest rising and falling with some frequency. he smiled small and kissed your slightly sweaty forehead, starting to stroke your damp soft hair.

"thank you, princess. i love you too". he whispered drowsily. "can't believe you squirted yet".

"stop". it was your turn to feel shy.

"it was hot".

"you sex beast. i am afraid of not being capable to get up to change your bandage". gun-woo almost choked.

oh god. the bruise.

"a-ah y-yes, totally". he looked down on his side and made a face at the kneaded band-aid.

you could not see that now.

"it's okay, though. i'm okay".

"are you?", your hazy doe eyes glanced at his sirened ones and gun-woo was quick to nod his head dramatically. "'kay". you replied tiredly, eyes almost closing. "can i take a nap, oppa?".

"of course, babygirl". the boxer keened, worried about your dimmed state and praying that he'd have the time to fix your bandage before you woke up.

his high pain tolerance scared him sometimes too, but gun-woo was sure that when the adrenaline left his body, he would feel the consequences of his actions the next day.

"want to shower with me first?". he asked before seeing your eyes completely closed.

"'m tired". you murmured.

"i'll be quick, okay? you don't have to do nothing, we can use the tub", gun-woo suggests.

you surprisingly laughed, and your eyes reduced to two tiny lines. it was so admiring the unique beauty of your joy that, spontaneously, your boyfriend also smiled. it was infectious and refreshing to see your smile so huge and genuine.

"are you suggesting that you shower me like a kid, sailor?". your voice was filled with happiness and the man next to you was quick to reply.

"no, no, no, that's creepy". his brows were arched and his eyes round, you wanted to laugh because of his pure reaction. "i just wanted you to rest... to not be tired and sticky".

"okay, baby. you can take care of me".

gun-woo opened a huge smile and left your body on the bed so he could turn on the bathtub and quickly come back to you.

staring at you sprawled in your element, kim geun-woo realized that he had never been more happy in his entire life than right now.

and he didn't give a fuck if his right side was completely numb when he had you.

don't normalize arguing with your boyfriend's best friend while he is injured and horny ! that might have consequences... hope you guys enjoyed and i'm so sorry for any misspelling 🥺 (this is how sex with kim geun-woo post ep.6 would be and you cannot prove me otherwise)

#this took me 3 days to write #ignore if its bad pls 🥺#woo do hwan #kim geun woo x reader #kim gun woo #bloodhounds kim geun woo #bloodhounds #bloodhounds netflix #smut kim geun woo #fluff kim geun woo #bloodhounds smut #smut bloodhounds

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honks-n-stonks · 3 months

Text

left unattended on a magma board and I undertale yellowed all over the place (more like ceroba'd but whatever,,,)

uh. some closeups under the cut!!! Man I forgot how much I love drawing on magma...

the top two ceroba doodles are my favorites I think. I thought it would be silly to combine Ceroba with the Snow-Faced Fox from Monster Hunter Rise! I like MonHun a normal amount okay.

might Monster Hunterify some other characters.... who knows.......

man liking a game called MONSTER HUNTER and a goddamn UNDERTALE fangame (where y'know. You SHOULD NOT kill the monsters) at the same time is genuinely comical

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soobnny · 11 months

Text

i hate that man — kim seungmin.

trope. enemies to lovers. college au. fluff. seungmin being a menace.

synopsis. the four times you think you hate seungmin, and the one time you think that might not have been true after all

word count. 5.5k words

warnings. a joke about jumping out the window, crying over a failed test exam, curse words

author’s note. inspired by that tiktok audio!! u know which one i’m talking about. credits to a dialogue i got from here (ur thoughts n feedbacks r always appreciated)

one.

Kim Seungmin is not your favorite person.

He is infuriating in the way he enjoys invading your personal space, always hovering around and blabbering his mouth nonstop every chance he gets. It doesn’t help his case (not that he wants to defend it in the first place) that he finds joy in hiding your things from you. You’d be damned if you left your notebook, even a pen, on your desk unattended. You already know the culprit is seated directly behind you, and the only thing you can do is ignore him in hopes that he returns it to you unscathed.

It’s much easier to not understand the reasons for why he annoys you. You would hate to find the truth behind his actions for the fear that he did it simply because he wanted to. This would only mean there was nothing to resolve to get him to stop.

Or worse, that he hates you. You admit with shame that you thought you’d actually get along quite well with Seungmin when you first met him. It felt like a scene straight out of a movie, playful banter and soft smiles directed to each other and the hopes of meeting each other again. It was honestly like a fairytale — until it wasn’t.

And you’ve tried before, to find out. You’ve made sufficient efforts in scouring for answers as to why he was that way with you, going as far as to asking Hwang Hyunjin (as embarrassing as that turned out to be). But, you had come out of all that empty-handed. So, you leave the unknown unknown and since then decided to just endure it. But it still has you wondering from time to time, had you burned down an orphanage in your past life to deserve this? Had you done something so sinister to be plagued by the presence of Kim Seungmin on a daily basis?

So, while you don’t necessarily hate the boy, you’d go as far as to say he was probably your least favorite person. And that notion weighs heavy considering you know resident menace Choi Beomgyu.

Still, Choi Beomgyu had nothing on Kim Seungmin so he’d have to accept being second to the last on your self-proclaimed list.

Speaking of the devil.

Seungmin parades into your classroom like he owns the place, laughing aloud side by side his friends. You simply drown out his obnoxiousness, the way you always do, though it never works considering it’s apparently his top priority to get on your nerves.

“Another Mcdonalds takeout?” He inquires, picking up the discarded paper bag on your desk to look inside. “You really should stop eating this junk so early in the morning.”

“Wow, keep saying things like that and I’ll start to believe you’re starting to care about me.” You abruptly grab the bag from his hands, moving to the back of your classroom to throw your trash properly before the professor walks in.

“Don’t be silly.” He simply laughs, taking his seat on your desk. “What do you even order?”

“Food, obviously.”

“No shit, Sherlock. What food specifically?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Can’t I ask a simple question?”

You know he won’t leave you alone if you don’t answer him. And you hate that you know that. So, with a begrudging sigh, you answer the boy. “Just nuggets and a Big Mac, now get off my desk.”

“Since you asked so nicely.” He’s being sarcastic, evident in how it’s obnoxiously dripping down his tone, but you can’t find it in you to care. As long as he’s out of your hair for a few minutes.

And you almost think the Gods have answered your prayers when you don’t come across him for the rest of the day. Something about that tells you there is a silver lining for the day, even if it is only ever a little line. You would hate to be blessed with his presence atop the Chemistry test you had at 7pm.

It’s one of the few advantages to signing up for night classes. The college halls were usually dead this hour, save for a few students on their way to the library after having their fifth cup of coffee for the day. And the lack of Kim Seungmin. It’s one sacrifice, giving up hours of your night, but honestly it really isn’t as bad as people make it out to be. Especially when your professor always ends early in consideration of those who still had to commute back home — they had to catch the last train somehow.

To replace Seungmin, you had Yang Jeongin in your class, but he usually kept to himself more. He was a lot more civilized than his friend, and you’ve been hoping this would’ve at least rubbed off on Seungmin.

“You ready for the test?” Jeongin asks after you had taken your seat next to him. The first thing you discern is the lack of textbooks and notes on his desk compared to everyone else’s pathetic attempt to review last minute. It seems he’s given up like you did.

“Absolutely the fuck not. I haven’t even eaten dinner yet so this is going to be a disaster.” You laugh, dropping your bag down on the ground just as your professor walks in. Jeongin is on his phone for the rest of the free time you have left before test papers and answer sheets were distributed.

It’s a horrible hour and a half, and the difficulty of the test makes you want to fall to your knees and weep. The lack of dinner in your stomach doesn’t exactly help your case as by the last few minutes of the test, you couldn’t care less about why you use ammonium oxalate to precipitate Calcium and Magnesium. The only thing in your head is a picture of your go-to Mcdonalds order as you pass your paper.

A jumpscare greets you on your way out in the form of Kim Seungmin who is holding a Mcdonalds paper bag in his hands, the same one you had just been daydreaming about.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” The sight of the boy spikes up your blood pressure, and you have to pause in your step to catch your breath after not having dinner, suffering through a long test, and seeing Seungmin all within the span of a few hours.

Though, what he does next surprises you.

“I ordered too much for Innie so you can have this, I guess.” He mumbles, shoving the brown paper bag in your direction. It scorches your fingers as you reached to grab it before it can fall to the ground.

It was a strange sight for Seungmin to be giving you something without asking. Strange and funny for it had occurred to you that if someone were to tell you Seungmin would be your stomach’s knight in shining armor, you wouldn’t have been able to believe yourself.

“Oh, thanks? You didn’t… poison this, did you?”

“How little do you think of me?” He simply walks away before you can reply to him again.

You scrunch your nose in confusion, leaning down to look into the contents of the Mcdonalds paper bag he had just given you.

Nuggets and a Big Mac.

Was this also Jeongin’s go-to order?

When you look back up, said boy greets you with french fries stuffed in his mouth. There’s a hint of a smirk that’s barely visible from his puffed out cheeks.

“You know, you can be really stupid.” Jeongin giggles to himself, patting down your head and messing with your hair a little before waving you goodbye. “Bye (name)!”

You simply stare at their retreating figures, head tilted as you try to drink in what Jeongin had just told you.

Stupid about what? The test?

two.

What is the connotation of a very thrilled Kim Seungmin walking into the campus library as you’re struggling with your part for your joint project?

You’re almost convinced something significant had happened for him to walk in with a shit-eating grin on his face, but you know better than that now. So, you simply ignore him, turning back to your laptop as Felix and Hyunjin greet the boy. He’s late, but knowing him, he’s probably finished his part of the project. You hate to acknowledge his competence, but you have to give credit where credit is due.

You could obviously ask for help, but you’d run through the streets naked first before ever asking the boy to help you. You refuse to be subjected to his taunting more than you already were. Besides, you don’t need help from someone like Seungmin. He’d probably be so arrogant about how you needed his help.

Rubbing your eyes for a split second, you go back to furiously typing at your laptop — so aggressively that Yeji has to pull you back for a bit in fear that you’d destroy your keyboard.

The five of you work on the project diligently, finishing the monstrosity of your synthesis paper for Life Science at almost one in the morning.

When everyone moves to leave, you stay behind, telling them you still had a few deadlines to catch up on, namely a Statistics paper and a book review for your English Literary class. While it wasn’t exactly due yet, it doesn’t hurt to start them when the pump of coffee is already in your system.

“See you guys tomorrow!” You say in a hushed tone, waving at the group before moving your attention back on your laptop.

And maybe it’s the sleep deprivation getting to you but you don’t notice Seungmin still situated at the opposite end of your table.

He doesn’t say anything either. He knows you’re running 50% coffee and 50% restlessness, so he simply sits back in his chair with a book in hand.

He could use the time to annotate anyway.

When Seungmin glances back at you thirty minutes later, he can only watch in amusement when he finds you close to passing out on the wooden table of the library. Your eyelids are starting to droop, and even though it seems you’re trying your hardest to fight it, you find that your sleeved arm is far too comfortable to refuse.

He immediately puts down his book, moving across the table to wake you up. It seems the appropriate time to tell you to go home and get some rest.

When you don’t respond to the gentle shake of your shoulder, he choose the next best thing to wake you up. With a text book in hand, he drops it on the space right beside your head, creating a loud enough sound to jolt you in your sleep.

“Come on. We’re going home. You’re a lost cause, anyway.”

“Fuck you.” You grumble sleepily, sitting up and squinting at your laptop before shutting it down so you can start packing up.

“I’m flattered, really, but no thanks.”

You scoff, and he simply smirks in response as he helps you put your things back in your bag.

“Why are you still here anyway?” It’s a question you’ve been meaning to ask him since you finally noticed him an hour back, but you chose to bite down on your tongue and stay silent instead.

He shrugs. “Had to annotate this book, and I’m already at the library so I might as well.”

“Okay, whatever.” You move to grab a pen that had fallen on the ground carelessly, and in the process, you feel your head collide with Seungmin’s hand instead of the harsher corner of the table.

You see red almost immediately. You hate to admit the small gesture has butterflies erupting in your stomach.

He doesn’t say anything as he pulls his hand back, so you don’t make a big deal out of it.

“What time is it?”

“Almost 4 in the morning.”

You hum, thinking of how you were gonna get back to your dorm. It was probably still dark outside, and you weren’t exactly willing to put yourself in danger over finishing up a few schoolworks at the library.

“You can go ahead. I’ll just text Ode to see if he’s still awake.”

“Why?” He quips, pausing to stand next to you outside the doors of the building when you stop walking.

“You’re gonna make fun of me.”

“There is a chance, yes. But I might not.” Seungmin smirks, and you roll your eyes.

“I don’t wanna walk alone in the dark.”

If Seungmin wants to laugh and poke fun, it seems he’s doing a good job at holding back. “Don’t disturb his sleep. I’ll walk you back instead.”

“Wow, you’re actually being nice to me for once.” You say jokingly.

“I won’t make a habit out of it. Besides, I was the last person seen with you and I don’t wanna be responsible if you go missing.”

There goes being nice.

This is how you end up walking home with Kim Seungmin. You don’t remember much about the walk home, just the proximity from where he’s walking next to you and the warmth radiating from him in contrast to the cold night. He has his hands in his pockets the whole way home, and it’s the little details like what seems to be the first genuine smile you see from him that you remember the most.

When you reach your dorm, he simply stares at you in a way you’re not used to before bowing and turning around his step to start walking back to his own dorm.

three.

A month later, Chan from your university’s basketball team decides to host a party at his house.

Being friends with half of his friends had its perks in that he enthusiastically invites you when you walk past him by your department’s hallways. And while you had every intent to decline his offer, Ryujin had already accepted for you and told him he’d be seeing you both there.

And by 8pm, you find yourselves inside his packed house, trying to navigate your way through drunken college kids. The entire first floor reeked of alcohol and sweat which wasn’t a great combination by all means.

The music is loud from Chan’s speakers, and you immediately want to go home and jump into the comforting sheets of your bed to sleep the night away. Ryujin doesn’t let you flee as she leads you to the kitchen where she tells you of where Chan hides his secret stash of snacks and ice cream. Another silver lining.

You spend an hour chatting and laughing on the kitchen counter with Ryujin, a spoonful of ice cream in your mouths as you make fun of multiple people’s dancing — not that any of you could do any better. Actually, scratch that, Ryujin could probably take them all on. You continuously ask if it was okay for you to be stealing these expensive tubs of ice cream and Ryujin just tells you she’s done it before, and that Bang Chan could most definitely afford some more if he wanted to. So, you continue to eat the ice cream without guilt.

Well, until Chan catches the pair of you, and you apologize profusely. He just laughs it off, looking at the two of you fondly before feigning a scolding. Turns out, he simply wanted you two to join him and his friends in a round of truth or dare upstairs.

Another thing to add and check off your non-existent bucket list. To be deemed sociable enough to be included in an exclusive circle of friend’s truth or dare despite only knowing around 4 people there. You think it might just be Ryujin’s doing, but you happily tag along to escape the mass of people downstairs.

When you make it upstairs, you’re surprised to see you know a lot more people than you thought you would. Yeji was there, seated beside who you think is Karina. Jeongin is with his friends, Seungmin included. Some of them you know, and some you just learned to be Jisung, Changbin, and Minho. The rest don’t really matter to you as you prop yourselves down in the circle.

And then a round of the game starts, and you start to question the things in this world that perplexed you. You used to think it were simple things — wet doorknobs, tuna fish, cramps, back pains. But after tonight, you might have to start modifying your own list. You can start with someone’s attempt to rap freestyle, the sight of a shirtless Han Jisung whom you’ve barely exchanged a word with but now have seen him half naked, the sudden knowledge of who was wearing a Spongebob themed underwear, someone (you believe was Minho?) roleplaying a scene from Zootopia. The list is endless.

Who knew a game of truth or dare could be this chaotic? Though, you probably should’ve known that especially being thrown into a group of such dynamic people.

Before you know it, the bottle lands on you and you’ve never wanted to wipe the smirk on Jeongin’s face so much than right now because you know he’s probably planning something that has to do with Kim Seungmin.

You think you can keep your anxiety at bay, that is until he starts whispering with Felix and Hyunjin and you swear that if someone opened the window right now, there’s a high chance you would make a run for it and jump and simply hope for the best.

“Don’t worry, it isn’t anything crazy! You can stop chewing on your nails.” You flush in embarrassment when the group laughs, and Ryujin runs a comforting hand down your back to make sure the attention isn’t too overwhelming for you.

“I dare you to hug Seungmin.”

“Excuse me?” You ask him to repeat his dare to you as if you hadn’t heard him. But you did. Loud and clear in fact.

The smirk on his face only grows. “I said, hug Seungmin.”

Okay, you know what, that should be simple. You sigh out in response before getting up from your seat to make your way towards where Seungmin’s situated, thankful he didn’t let you do anything as embarrassing as the others.

However, the closer you make towards where Seungmin is, wearing a top that accentuated his broad shoulders way too perfectly, and sporting a smug grin on his face, you start to think this might be the most difficult one of the night yet.

Seungmin stands in compliance to your dare, and you feel all eyes in the circle shift to the pair of you, as if anticipating it more than you.

His eyes survey you, as if to question if you were really gonna do it. And to egg you on further, he decides to open his arms wide which earns a few howls and whistles from the room. God, you hate him. You really really hate him.

And then you do it, just to get it over with, and Seungmin’s expression switches to a more taken back one. He didn’t expect you to actually push through with the dare. The longer the hug lasts, the more a ghost of a smile threatens to spill from his lips.

You have your arms wrapped around the entirety of his body, and his own resting just around your waist, and he’s crouched down a little so he can match your height better without you having to tiptoe so much.

When he presses you closer, the whole room erupts in cheers; vomiting air, nudging each other, and whistling.

Seungmin allows himself a quick glance at you, but there isn’t much to see when your face is pressed firmly against his chest. Perhaps to try and hide from the embarrassment of your friends shouting “get a room” even if you were just hugging.

He feels so warm in the air conditioned room, and it seems he didn’t have much to drink tonight when he smells more like fresh laundry and the perfume he always wears. This feels nice actually. But you would never tell him that. In fact, you have every intention of taking that observation to your grave.

When you finally notice the glances of friends and acquaintances alike around you, you pull back from the hug and immediately make your way back to your seat without another word.

You make a vow to yourself to get back at Jeongin for humiliating you like that — however, there’s a persistent voice in your head telling you that maybe you hadn’t minded that hug one bit the way you let on.

You ignore it.

four.

The sound of a shutter going off and a flash of light greets you immediately upon entering your classroom another month later.

It seems Seungmin’s found an upgraded way to annoy you (as if hiding your things wasn’t enough). With a new phone gifted to him on his birthday, he seems insistent on catching you when you’re unprepared. It makes you frustrated — as if he wasn’t enough of an irritant.

You should be used to Seungmin doing stupid things all the time, but even after months, you find that it really is a difficult task to endure. Why is he so intent on irritating you? You’re starting to seek for the answers you told yourself to stay unknown. How could you keep letting him be without knowing why he enjoys getting a rise out of you so much?

To add insult to injury, his loud voice greets you a good morning as he waves his phone around at you. You hope it falls and shatters.

Too far?

“What? Are you camera shy?” He smirks mischievously, turning to focus his camera back on you.

“At what point do you become mature?”

“Hm, not for a long time, I don’t think.” You have to remind yourself he’s provoking you for the sake of it, and you really shouldn’t be as affected as you feel right now. So, you breathe in sharply through your nose and just let him be.

When class ends, you’re quick to rant to Ryujin about Seungmin’s new discovery at getting a kick out of you.

“He won’t stop taking fucking pictures of me.” You mutter indignantly, putting all your frustration into your words.

“You know, they say you only take photos of things if you have love for the subject.”

“What are you trying to imply?”

“Just that there must be a reason why he’s so intent on having your face litter the memory of his new phone.” Ryujin smirks when your face starts to flush red at the realization of what she’s suggesting.

“Oh, shut up.” Your words don’t come out as intimidating as you want it to, and you spend the rest of the day thinking about it.

You confront Seungmin the next day, just so you can stop thinking about it. “Why are you taking so much photos of me?”

You’re already expecting that smirk on his face, and a feigned confusion. But, to your surprise, he looks genuinely surprised at your question. You’d go as far as saying he looked like a deer caught in headlights.

You’ve unknowingly caught his tongue, but he catches himself before you can catch on. With a half-assed smirk on his face, he says the best excuse that comes in his mind.

“Just so I have multiple material to use when I need to blackmail you.”

You’re appalled, and frustrated at yourself for thinking what Ryujin was hinting at might be true. You don’t even know why you were hoping in the first place. You don’t like the boy, right?

Your lips press into a straight line, and you swear your blood vessels might burst if you stare at him any longer so you storm back to your seat and ignore him for the rest of the day.

five.

There comes a point in the semester when all you’ll know is the quivering of your knees and the bloodshot red of your eyes from crying too much.

For you, it’s the result of a failed test score on a subject you studied really hard for.

You draw your knees up to press your face against them, finding solace in the quiet of the night outside. It’s early enough that you aren’t scared to walk home alone just yet.

You hear footsteps around you, but you simply drown them out in favor of focusing on washing out your frustration over yourself and that stupid test. Though, it proves a more difficult task when someone slides into the seat next to yours. When you look up, you see Seungmin staring at you. And he’s looking at you with an expression you don’t quite recognize, but equally don’t have the energy to try and deduce.

“Seungmin, I’m not really in the mood—“ He shuts you up with a handkerchief shoved in front of your face. “Why are you offering me a handkerchief?”

“Because you’re crying and seeing your stupid tears makes me upset. So wipe them away.” You stare at the handkerchief before studying his features for any hint of malice, but you see nothing but honest concern. You can’t help but feel a little touched at the uncharacteristic gesture.

“Thanks.” He hums, smiling gently down at you, and you think you’ve never seen him look this small before.

When you take the handkerchief from him, you make sure to return what looks like a trial of a smile amidst your scornful face and Seungmin is genuinely shocked you’d actually direct the closest thing to a smile at him — as if he had expected you to brush off his own and reject it.

When he shifts a little closer to where you’re seated, you surprisingly don’t feel repulsed at the distance and the way his shoulders brush against yours.

“Is it something you wanna talk about?”

The cold and quiet atmosphere of the night and the way Seungmin is looking down at you encourages you to speak, the way you never thought you would with the boy.

“Not really. Just… I’m so stupid for failing that test. And, and maybe if I studied harder than I would’ve at least gotten a more decent score.” You sigh, playing with the handkerchief as you look down in humiliation.

Seungmin scrunches his face. “It’s not your fault. We win some, we lose some. What matters is that we keep going despite the losses.”

He doesn’t snap back at you with a snarky remark like he usually would. Instead, he gives genuinely useful advice, and you think your ears could be deceiving you if he wasn’t seated directly next to you.

“Wow, I didn’t think you had it in you to say something like that.” You laugh a little, and you miss the way the tip of his ears heat in red at being able to solicit a laugh from you.

“You wound me.”

You don’t know what takes over you, but you find yourself leaning your head against his shoulder. For now, you’ll blame it on the exhaustion from crying so much earlier.

Your head against his body feels nice and comforting and warm against the biting air from the night, but you can feel him physically tense up at the contact and you almost pull your head back immediately if he hadn’t rested his head against yours.

The compromising position has Kim Seungmin in contemplation over something that’s been such a great concern in his life for the past few months, almost a year even. It had started when he met you, the first time he ever saw you and heard your voice, and the day he decided he’d spend every second thereafter trying to get your attention.

He mirrors the way you interact with your friends, and yet somewhere along the line, it had been misinterpreted into something it wasn’t and he had to live in pretense of irritating you when all he’s ever wanted was your attention. But, he thought, if this was the only way then he’d have to keep the facade up.

Besides, a little attention (even if it was with hatred) is better than none.

When Seungmin grows uncharacteristically quiet, you start to wonder what he could be thinking about and why there’s a small scrunch in his face as if he was deep in thought.

You never used to wonder what he could be thinking about. What’s changed?

“Seungmin?”

“Hm?”

“Why do you enjoy irritating me so much? Do you hate me?”

Seungmin peels his head from yours, staring down at you with a completely horrified look on his face.

“Hate you?” He feels nauseous that you could even think that, and he’s shaking his head quickly, compromising feelings he’s kept hidden for quite a while now. He’s so confounded by your statement that he gets up from his seat on the bench for a second to stare at you before calming down and returning back to his spot. “I don’t hate you. I— I could never hate you.”

You look at him, and you’re surprised to see that he’s genuinely astonished and a little upset at what you had just tried to imply.

“Then why?” You swallow down a lump in your throat, asking him in the smallest voice he’s ever heard from you. This was the perfect opportunity to ask him why, being handed to you straight on your lap, so you bite the bullet and ask.

“I actually thought we’d get along quite well when we met. And then you just started to… I don’t know.” His eyes are soft as he listens to you, lips slightly parted as if trying to think of the perfect explanation to clear your misinterpretations.

When you finish, Seungmin closes his eyes to recollect his thoughts. For a second, you think he might be coming up with an excuse to save himself but the earnest way in which he looks at you the moment he opens his eyes again quiets the voice in your head.

“I just wanted your attention.” His face visibly cringes at the sudden confession. Seungmin feels like he’s floating, looking down at his physical body that’s trying to explain himself without embarrassing himself further.

“You… what?” You blink.

He sighs out, wiping the sweat that’s gathered from his palms down his pants before tilting his head back as if trying to ask strengths from the Gods so he can admit to you whatever he’s been hiding. And then, he looks back at you and he finally confesses what he’s been keeping from you for months.

“I thought that maybe if I acted the way you did with your friends then there’d be a higher chance we’d get along. But then you misinterpreted it as hatred, and I’ve had to pretend I enjoy irritating you when all I really want to do is hold your hand.”

He squeezes his eyes shut as if afraid of your response, but all you can do is stare at him with your mouth parted.

This definitely wasn’t the response you were expecting.

“But… but it really felt like you hated me. Like— when you’d make fun of me for my food choices or that time in the library when you stayed behind to taunt me for being a lost cause.”

“You have me all wrong, (Name). When I asked you what you liked, it was an excuse so I could get it for you. Do you really think I’d accidentally buy too much dinner for Jeongin, and have the excess be exactly your favorites? And… and that night at the library. I stayed behind because I know you’re afraid to walk home late. So you would be less afraid if I walked you home.”

You meet his eyes, breath catching in your throat when you gauge the level of genuineness in his eyes.

“You— You hugged me as a dare in Chan’s party and sometimes that’s all I think about.” Seungmin falls silent after that, simply letting out a breath he feels he’s been holding for too long.

“Look, you don’t have to say anything right now. I know it’s a lot to take in.” He fiddles with the ends of the sweater he’s wearing, making sure to avoid eye contact.

“Seungmin.” The simple sound of his name from your lips has him looking at you despite trying his best not to. “I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s okay. It must be a lot to take in.”

“I thought you hated me for months and now, you’re telling me the exact opposite.” Your voice gradually quiets down, and Seungmin finds comfort when you scoot in your seat closer. “I really don’t know what to say.”

“Would it hurt to start over?” You’re greeted with his softening stare, and he bites his lips in anticipation for your response.

“I think… I think I’d like that.”

Seungmin immediately smiles, the kind of smile that’s difficult to hide even in the inky night, even if he tried.

You find yourself mirroring his own smile.

The thought of finding out the truth behind Seungmin’s actions has always scared you, but now you know you should’ve never been afraid.

Somehow, things are already starting to change, with an outstretched hand in your direction. You find yourself taking it in yours with ease.

“Hi, I’m Seungmin. It’s nice to meet you.”

#k-labels #seungmin x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #kim seungmin x reader #stray kids oneshot #stray kids fic #stray kids seungmin #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x reader fic #skz fanfic #skz seungmin #seungmin x you #seungmin x y/n #college au #kim seungmin #seungmin fanfic #seungmin fic

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turbulentscrawl · 5 months

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In the poly post you said that ithaqua is as close as it get to a yandere may I ask why you think that ? Or any headcanons related to that if that's okay with you (sorry if the English is bad )

As luck would have it, Ithaqua is one of the few Hunters I think I have a decent grasp on rn so I was also able to crank this out quickly! (To my other request-ees: I'm working on HC requests for several other characters rn! I should have them ready to spam-post sometime this weekend <3)

So here's some general and sfw relationship hcs for Ithaqua ;)

-A first small note, his exact age is not listed, but he’s described as a “young adult,” so I imagine him to be somewhere between 18-22.

-Ithaqua is a man who has entirely rejected society. He wants nothing more to do with it, with anyone, and any instance of breaching his territory is met with wind-swift punishment.

-It all fits when you consider the major events of his life. He was abandoned in a snowstorm, left for dead, because he was thought to be a devil. He was saved and raised by a “witch,” a kind woman who stood outside of society’s norms and was feared and hated for it. Their solitary home was trespassed on in the night, defiled, and his mother was kidnapped, tortured, and broken by a man with his exact face. Every small bit of comfort he ever had was destroyed by a mirror image of himself that was raised in “civilized” society. If that doesn’t cement the idea that people from that world can’t be given a chance, I don’t know what would.

-And I think on some level he questions the reality of it all. Did he do it? Did he destroy his own life? Was his so-called brother actually a copy of himself? Was Nathaniel supposed to be the better or the worse version? Was he himself evil before…or is he evil now? None of it matters in the long run, though. His only remaining goal in life is to defend his home and his mother’s resting place from interlopers. But he does get this distant, sour expression sometimes when he contemplates these things.

-I think he’s close to an as-is yandere because, if we assume he’s still capable of bonding with someone on a genuine level, that person would be a one true exception to his otherwise all-consuming distrust and hatred for society. He could not be “led to water”, so to speak, even by a partner who exemplified everything good left in the world. He’s just not capable of making that leap anymore.

-So again, he’s territorial, and that would 1000% extend to a partner. He’s not a master and you’re not his pet, but god would he try to keep you in his clutches. Use every sweet word and convincing anecdote in his arsenal to convince you to stay in the forest. The thing that keeps him from being all-out controlling is that his mother let him make his decisions for himself. She taught him how to survive in the wilderness, and she taught him about the rest of society, and she let him decide for himself if he ever wanted to get involved in it. He didn’t of course, because how could a place that shunned his mother be good for him? You deserve to make those choices too, even if he disagrees with what you pick.

-He will, however, watch you like a hawk. To not sugarcoat it, he’ll stalk you. Ithaqua wants to be prepared for the moment everything goes wrong. The moment he knows for certain will come, when you see he’s right about other people. When that happens, he’ll swoop in to save you. He refuses to be late again, like he was for his mother.

-He doesn’t leave the forest unattended often, but when you spend longer stints at your home in a village, you’ll notice the weather gradually becoming worse and worse. It seems to snow every day, and the wind is so harsh that walking outside is deafening and blinding. When you return to visit Ithaqua, the village mysteriously returns to its normal weather patterns.

-Ithaqua hates when other people interact with you. No one is no one is safe enough, trustworthy enough for him to not worry for your safety. They don’t deserve to even stand near you. But he won’t do anything until they do…or you say he can.

-Anyone he takes as a partner would have to remind him of his mother, at least a little. She’s the only example he has of a “good person” so he’s not likely to give people with divergent personality types much of a chance. He’s also more likely to trust a woman over a man, by a small margin.

-He won’t stand for being doted on or babied by anyone other than his mother or partner. he won't fall for other people's faux-gentleness! Don’t you know who he is? What he is? Call him cute or pitiful again and your blood will stain the snow red.

-His lips are always chapped to hell and back, sorry. Sharp kisses only for you.

#idv x reader #identity v x reader #idv night watch #ithaqua x reader #idv ithaqua #turbulentscraw #almost yandere...

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cheolism · 1 year

Text

stranger

➳ lee seokmin x fem!reader

➳ summary: when a mysterious stranger in the club offers to take you to his hotel for the night you're powerless to protest.

➳ 5.9k words

➳ tags: oooh boy ok. stranger roleplay, failed roleplay. dom! seokmin, service top! seokmin, failed hard!dom seokmin. married sex, harsh and gentle sex, the duality of lee seokmin. humorous sex, seokmin is extremely sensitive. oral (reader receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, frotage in public. seokmin likes praising reader. overstimulation. puppy seokmin tries to be a wolf and fails and succeeds at the same time. some exhibitionism but not. like. a lot. a married couple tries to spice things up and instead end up dropping the roleplay because of their inability to keep it together.

➳ warnings: fem pet names (good girl, princess), reader wears a bra. seokmin's pecs are called breasts bc i think the term pec is ridiculous and hate it. his abs are mentioned!!!

➳ note: inspired by the photo above!! i have many, many thoughts abt this picture.

When the stranger beckoned you to him, you were powerless to disobey. Like a fish on a line you went to him, the grin on his face never wavering as you crossed the room.

You had been watching him all night, enough to know he had been doing the same with you. He wore a patchwork suit that was ugly in a way only expensive clothes could be. The pants clung to his muscular thighs, which he parted tauntingly, as if he was trying to convince you to sit in his lap. His blazer hung loosely around him, the neck deep and showing off his collarbones and the valley between his breasts.

As you neared you were able to discern the little details about him. The noble climb of his nose, the strength in his jaw, the severe cut of it. The silver chain that rested perfectly on his collar, drawing your attention to it with every shift.

You wondered what it would be like to run your lips along it, to feel the cold metal in your mouth as you kiss his chest.

"Have a seat," the man said once you were near, a soft little smirk on his lips. He reached out with large hands, fingers slim and nimble, settling on your hips. You followed his lead, pressing your hands to his shoulders and lowering yourself onto his thighs. He let out a little groan once you settled, his hands smoothing over your back to guide you closer and closer until you were pressed against him, noses brushing, your cunt resting directly over his dick with only your clothes separating you.

"What a good girl you are," he murmured, nose nudging yours. One of his hands slipped underneath your shirt, fingertips pressing against your skin. His other hand grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand off of his shoulder and tangling his fingers with yours. "Good girls shouldn't be left unattended in places like this, should they?"

You hummed, watching his fingers as they played with yours. They were elegant and long, far longer than your own. You couldn't help but wonder what they would feel like wrapped around your throat or deep inside your cunt, working against your walls.

He shifted, the hand underneath your shirt holding you still as he adjusted himself. You could feel the shape of his cock beneath your ass, could feel how large it seemed. You wondered if he was just as eager for you as you were him, if he had been lusting after you as soon as his eyes caught yours, just as you had him.

It was horrible, you had realized, how it took just one little smirk from a stranger for your panties to become soaked.

"Tell me princess," he hummed, fingers untangling from yours to tug at your hair. He took a lock in his fingers, rubbing his thumb over the strands. "Such a sweet thing like you should have some big boyfriend standing guard over her in a place like this."

You shook your head, your lock of hair slipping from his fingers. He then tucked it behind your ear, the pads of his fingers trailing over the shell of your ear, tracing the cartilage. His touch was so gentle, but while you could find comfort in it, could liken it to the touch you would give a sleeping kitten, his hands did anything but calm you.

His touch was kind, but instead of soothing you he lit your nerves on fire with it. He touched you softly, sensually, dragging the pads of his fingers against your skin, coaxing goosebumps into rising. The stranger's touch was light, but no less noticeable than if he had been demanding with it.

"No boyfriend," you said. You laced your hands around his neck, fingers pressing into the short strands at the back of his head and petting. He hummed in approval. "I'm here by myself."

He sighed, shaking his head. "Sweet little things shouldn't be visiting clubs and bars without someone to protect them."

"Maybe you could be my boyfriend," you volunteered, eyes lowering to his mouth. His lips seemed to shine and glimmer, and you wanted to trace them with your tongue and taste to see if he had put any gloss on them. "Just for the night."

He laughed, his hand locking behind your back underneath your shirt. "Yeah?"

You nodded, bumping your nose against his. "Yeah. And you could do what boyfriends do."

"And what's that, princess?"

"You know." You bit your lip, glancing up to see his heavy gaze on your mouth. You released your lip from your teeth, smoothing over it with your tongue. "Like you said. Could protect me."

He hummed in thought. The music of the club, the clamor and chat of the crowd, seemed all so far away from the two of you. "And what would I get? For protecting you?"

"Well, boyfriends don't just protect their partners." You sunk your fingers fully into his hair, sliding through the strands and smoothing them. "They often do other things too."

The stranger hissed, his hands flattening against your back. He slid them against your skin, bunching up your shirt before gripping your hips. He squeezed your love handles before pulling your hips down and onto him, guiding you into a rocking motion.

"And what other things are there, sweet girl?" You could feel his length as it protested against his pants, pressing against your core. Nearly subconsciously you splayed your thighs further apart, baring down on him.

You gasped, eyes fluttering shut. He was hard against you, from his cock to his thighs to his chest. You angled your hips to grind your clit down on him, and even through all the layers of clothes the drag felt delicious, had you curling your toes in your shoes and digging your nails into his hair.

"Come on, princess," he chuckled, pressing his nose into your cheek. "What other things can boyfriends do?"

He pressed his mouth against the curve of your jaw, not quite kissing. You breathed shakily as his mouth traced your jaw. "They can -- you know."

You could feel his lips turn into a smile against your skin. "Hm, I don't know, princess. Gotta put that pretty mouth of yours to use and tell me."

"Boy -- boyfriends can fuck their girls," you sighed, turning your face towards him. He cursed, voice low and guttural, and then his hand was wrapping around your neck and bringing your mouth to his.

He kissed you eagerly, as if he was intent on devouring you. His mouth was a raging fire against yours, swallowing everything you gave him, your soft sighs and shifts against him fuel. When he shoved his tongue in your mouth it was as if he was shoving the flame inside of you, too, and you felt it travel through your body and settle deep in your gut.

Just as you thought: he tasted like the strawberry lip gloss you always tucked into your purse.

When he pulled away the two of you were connected by a thick string of saliva, your harsh breaths joining him in the small space between the two of you. He laughed, lips quirking up and illuminating his face in brightness that seemed to come from the sun itself.

"If that's the case," he breathed, leaning forward once again and pressing his mouth against the corner of your lips. His lips trailed down to your chin, leaving a blazing path behind. "Then I guess I'll accept your little proposition, princess."

You rolled your hips against him, bringing a little groan from him. His hands clenched down on your hips, stilling you, branding you with his strength.

"Not here, baby." He pulled away. His dark eyes were sparked with lust, his mouth red from the ferocity of your kisses. "There's a hotel on the corner. Think you can hold it in long enough for us to make it?"

You shot him a little look that brought out another laugh. Then he was using his large hands to guide you off of him. When you stood you couldn't help but stumble, your knees weak from him.

"Careful, princess," he lightly scolded you, standing and giving you his arm. You accepted it, tangling your arm around his.

The spring air was cool against your skin when the two of you stepped out of the club, leaving behind the bright LEDs and music. Couples and groups were milling about in front of the club, the night still young.

He removed his arm from yours, wrapping it around you instead to bring you close. He ducked his head down next to your ear, murmuring just loud enough for you to hear. "Better to a good job of being your boyfriend, I think, and protect you from all the riffraff."

You laughed, throwing your head back. He giggled, a cute thing that had your heart swelling. "You're just as bad as them," you reminded, "picking up some stranger from a club and taking them to a hotel."

"Maybe you're right," he agreed. His eyes seemed to sparkle, the dim light of the yellow street lamps doing nothing to lessen his beauty. "Do you feel like it's the Big Bad Wolf taking you away?"

You hummed, letting him guide you to the building at the end of the block. He stuck his hand into the pocket of his patchwork pants, taking out a keycard and swiping it. "I don't know . . ."

"You don't know?" His eyes crinkled at the corners, his hand on your shoulder sliding down to the middle of your back as he guided you inside the hotel. "What'll help you make up your mind?"

The hotel was nice. The floors were clean, the woman behind the counter giving the two of you a friendly smile. You grinned back at her before answering the stranger at your shoulder. "Maybe you could bite me. You know. Like a wolf does."

His gasp was loud in the quiet of the lobby. Then the stranger's hands were on your hips and he was steering you towards the elevator, slapping down on the button as soon as he neared it.

You giggled, falling back into his chest. You snuck your hand up underneath his blazer, fingers dipping into the band of his pants. His skin was so warm against your hand that it almost felt as if you were touching a heater instead of a human.

The elevator doors opened with a ding, and then he was pressing you inside. The man slapped down on his floor button, jammed the button to close the doors, and then he was spinning on you.

His cologne seemed to devour you as he pressed you against the elevator wall, towering over you. His bangs hung in his eyes as he trapped you, voice low and settling deep in your gut. "What a fucking tease my princess is."

"Camera," you stuttered out, eyes flicking up. "Elevators have cameras."

The stranger growled as he spoke, as if he really was the Wolf come to consume you. "Fuck the cameras, princess. You didn't care about cameras when you were sticking your hand down my pants in the lobby."

The elevator doors pinged open, and then his hands were on your hips and driving you out. His hands were squeezing your sides so tightly that you thought they would leave marks.

He didn't stop talking as he took you down the hall, his voice low in his throat. "Acting like a good girl, acting like some little princess. Batting your eyes and whining and acting all innocent. You're just a little desperate slut, aren't you? Just a whore disguised as an angel."

He stopped in front of his door, bringing back out his keycard. He thrusted it against the keypad and as soon as it unlocked he was shoving the door open, urging you inside.

You turned just in time to watch him swing the door shut and lock it. His fingers, his long, lovely fingers that seemed to taunt you with every passing moment, went to his blazer. He hurriedly slipped the buttons out of their holes, every release revealing more and more of his smooth, golden skin.

He tossed his blazer onto a chair, baring his torso for your eyes. You eagerly drank him in. His golden skin glowed in the faint lights of the hotel room, casting shadows on his abs. His torso was decorated with moles, just like the rest of him, and your eyes focused on the one on his right breast, wanting nothing more than to press your lips against it.

But then he was against you, his quick fingers on the button of your pants. He popped it out of the hole, finger hooking onto your zipper and sliding it. He pressed his face into your neck, mouth attaching to the skin there and sucking kisses into it. You could feel the tip of his nose against your skin, the warmth of his breath as he spoke.

He hooked his finger into your pants, tugging them down the curve of your ass. “God. Can’t believe you’re taunting me like this. Always love these pants on you, you know? How they hug your ass, your pretty thighs. Always want to wrap my hands around them and leave my marks when you wear them. Everyone’s always staring at you when you wear them, staring at my girl.”

You gasped, arching into his touch as his hands slid underneath your underwear and cupped your ass, his teeth skimming along your neck. Your hands sought out him, grabbing at his arms, squeezing at his thick biceps and feeling the muscles flex as he kneaded at the fat of your ass.

“Please,” you begged, nails digging into his skin. “Please.”

He grinned against your skin. Then he pressed one last kiss to your neck. He moved away, long fingers grabbing onto the waistband of your underwear and tugging it down. He got to his knees as he pulled your underwear and pants. “On the bed, princess.”

You perched yourself on the edge of the bed, leaning back on your hands. His long, elegant, nimble fingers made quick work of the buckle to your shoes, guiding them off of your feet and gingerly setting them against the wall. Then he began tugging at your pants and underwear, throwing them next to your shoes.

Heat immediately gushed into your cheeks as his hands wrapped around your feet, thumbs running along the arches. Then he bent and pressed his mouth to the top of each of your feet, making your toes curl and a little squeal escape you.

He laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners and nose wrinkling cutely. “Sorry, I’m sorry.” He stood up, his hands going to his own button and zipper. When his pants dropped and you got a good look at the outline of his dick through his underwear you couldn’t help the little moan that left you. Heat flushed through your body, your cunt clenching.

He laughed again. “What? Does your little cunt like something, princess?”

He palmed his dick through his underwear as he came to you, your eyes caught on the action. He was big. He was huge. You should’ve expected it from the size of his hands alone, but even through his underwear you could see the shape of him and see how large it was.

You wondered, fleetingly, how it’ll fit.

His hands went to your thighs, squeezing. You let him guide you up onto the bed properly, the stranger coming to the edge. His hands went to the hem of your shirt, tugging on it. “Wanna take this off too, sweetheart? I’d like to see all of you.”

Feeling heat return to your cheeks, you pulled your shirt off and dropped it to the side of the bed. When your hands went to your bra his hands prevented you.

He lowered his face next to yours, voice low. “I’ll take care of this, if you don’t mind.”

Then he was skimming his hands over your breasts, mapping them out. You gasped as he squeezed at your breasts through the fabric of your bra, playing with them and feeling their weight in his palms.

After he toyed with your breasts for a few moments, drawing gentle little puffs of air from you, hips grinding down on the bed in an exceedingly feeble effort to get some sort of relief, he went to work undoing your bra. His hands fumbled with the hooks for a few seconds, the silence between the two of you lengthening.

A loud giggle escaped you, causing him to freeze against you. You shook your head, hands shooting out and looping around his neck. “Ignore me,” you urged, “I’m just being silly.”

He huffed, the air against your cheek making your lashes flutter. “I can do it.” He shifted, using his height to peer over your shoulder. “I’ve taken off bras hundreds of times before.”

“Of course, of course,” you hurriedly agreed, sinking your hand into his hair. You combed through the strands lazily. You felt it as soon as he successfully unhooked your bra, the relief shooting through you.

“See?” He said, pulling away. You lifted your arms out to him, letting him tug the bra off. “I can take bras off.”

“I never doubted you, sweetheart,” you bit down on your smile, trying to contain the affection that was threatening to pour out. You cleared your throat, tossing your hair over your shoulder. “It’s a task most boyfriends are rather adept at, I hear. Taking bras off their girls.”

He smothered his own smile, nodding at your words. “Yes. And as you saw, I’m a good bra remover.”

“The best I’ve ever seen,” you sympathized.

He snorted, a loud noise that made you startle and then laugh in turn. He pressed towards you, putting his body back between your legs and wrapping his arms around you. “I’m supposed to be seducing you.”

“I’m seduced!” You protested into his chest. You pressed your face further, placing kisses against his skin. He was warm, as he always was, like a space heater. “I’m so seduced. Really.”

“You promise?”

You giggled into his skin. He began to pull away, a whine on his lips. But you hurriedly wrapped your arms around his middle, keeping him from going too far. “I promise! I promise, really, sincerely.”

Your husband sighed, digging his face into your hair. “I messed this all up.”

“You didn’t!” You kissed the mole on his left breast before retreating, peering up at him. “You didn’t mess it up, Seokmin. Promise.”

“It’s the bra’s fault,” he mumbled, pouting.

You laughed, nodding in agreement. “You’re right, you’re right. It’s not as if we’ve been together for six years and you’ve had at least five and a half years of experience with taking off my bra specifically.”

He whined, pulling away and pouting at you. Seokmin slid his fingers through your hair, pushing it back behind your ear. “You’re such a bully.”

You caught his hand with yours, pressing your lips to his palm and kissing it. He softly exhaled, and you could feel the weight of his eyes on you as you began kissing his boney wrist, his forearm. You skimmed your lips over his skin, going as far as you could reach without moving from your spot on the bed.

“I’m a bully, am I?” You lowered your hands over his back, running your fingertips over the waistband of his underwear, causing Seokmin to shiver into you. “Why don’t you do something about it, stranger?”

He huffed a laugh. Seokmin bent over and pressed his lips to your hairline. “Okay. Okay.”

Then Seokmin separated from you completely, clearing his throat. “Climb up the bed, princess.”

You tried to stifle your smile but to not avail. You turned and began crawling up the bed, making sure to wiggle your ass as you did. Seokmin’s answering giggle was enough to make you laugh, burying your face into the pillows of the hotel bed.

His hands smoothed over your bare ass, squeezing. You began rising again to turn, but Seokmin pressed down on your middle, keeping you flat on the bed. “Stay still, sweetheart. Let me take care of you.”

You nodded, turning your head so you could watch him out of the corner of your eye. You watched as he took off his underwear, baring his entire body to you. You drank him in greedily.

Seokmin was gorgeous. He was beautiful. He always was. But his dick -- his dick stole your breath away even though you had seen it a thousand times before. You couldn’t help but watch as one of his hands smoothed over it. His dick was long and thick, and you knew from experience how well it could fill you. You knew how it felt when he was hammering his hips into you, how it felt like you could feel his dick deep in your gut. How it would make you feel impossibly full and whole, as if you were a puzzle missing half of itself and he held the piece.

“Like what you see, baby?”

His words had you flushing, abruptly turning on him to bury your face back into the pillow. Seokmin laughed again, and then you could feel the mattress shift as he began to climb up after you.

Seokmin’s hands, large and heavy, grazed over your thighs. He mapped them out, as if he hadn’t spent the last five years memorizing them. His touch had your eyes fluttered shut, your hips rising to try and meet his hands.

“You’re so beautiful, princess.” Seokmin’s breath was warm as he lowered his face to your back, speaking sweet-nothings against your skin. As he spoke his hands began manipulating your thighs, spreading them out, making room for him to lay between them. “I’m so lucky. I’m the luckiest man in the world, princess. You’re so beautiful.”

“What happened to being the Big Bad Wolf?” You asked, face half against the pillow.

Seokmin kissed the lowermost part of your back. One of his hands held a thigh in place, allowing him to skim his fingertips along your cunt. “Are you telling me you’re not feeling like a wolf’s prey, darling?”

Two of his fingers brushed against your hole, not quite entering. You whined a little, burrowing into the pillow. When you tried to lift your hips in an attempt to guide his fingers into your cunt he moved the hand that was propping your thigh up to return to your back, pressing you down on the bed. “Keep still, princess. That’s a good girl. Gotta be a good girl for me. I know you can, you’re always so good. Always so good and pretty, so good and sweet.”

Seokmin hooked his fingers into your hole, intruding to the first knuckle. Immediately you were trying to back up into him, trying to shove them in all the way. But then Seokmin sighed; you could feel the warmth of his breath against your ass. “Told you to be a good girl, sweetheart.”

“I am!” You argued weakly, pouting against the pillow even though he couldn’t see. “Just want your fingers in me, Seokmin. Want to feel you.”

He kissed the globe of your ass, causing you to clench. “My girl’s so needy. You act like I didn’t just fuck you the night before last.”

Slowly, as if this was your first time and not closer to the thousandth, Seokmin guided his fingers inside of your cunt. You could feel every centimeter, your entire body focusing on the glide of them, how they slid against your walls and forced them to expand. You didn’t even realize you were moaning into the pillow until he said something.

“Love the way you sound, sweetheart.” He kissed you again, the gentleness of his lips coinciding with the tender way he fingered you. His fingers seemed never-ending, so long and crooking inside of you, brushing against your walls. “You always sound so pretty for me, baby.”

Then his fingers found the sponge inside of you that had you crooning, wiggling against his hold. Seokmin draped his weight against you, holding you to the bed. He massaged that sponge for a moment, dragging sweet whines and moans from your lips.

“Perfect,” he mumbled. Seokmin dragged his fingers out of your cunt, slowly as to allow you to feel every single millimeter. Your cunt protested, clenching and squeezing around him, trying to keep his fingers inside. “Look at how eager your pretty little cunt is for me, princess. You’re always so eager for me. Always so desperate for my fingers.”

Swiftly Seokmin slid them back in, his fingertips hitting your core directly. You couldn’t help the loud groan that escaped you in response.

“Let me hear you, darling.” He kissed your ass again, scissoring out his fingers. “Wanna hear everything you got to say.”

Seokmin fingered you gently and quickly, though no less effectively. Every single drag of his fingers had your walls clenching around him, every single brush of his fingers against your core had you moaning and bucking back into him. You wanted him, wanted him so badly.

He withdrew his fingers entirely to reposition himself, changing the angle of his hand. This time three of his fingers pressed against your hole and your entire body tensed in response.

When his thumb brushed against your clit you couldn’t help but moan, driving your hips back and onto his fingers. They entered you, the three of them impaling you. Seokmin cursed, his other hand flying to your ass in an attempt to steady you. “Careful, princess, gotta be --”

“Fuck me,” you begged, grinding your hips back and onto his fingers further, driving the three digits deeper. “Fuck me, Seokmin, please.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, baby,” he murmured, hand squeezing your ass soothingly. “I don’t want you to be hurt.”

“Seokmin.” He didn’t move as you rocked your hips back and forth, guiding them in and out. “Just fuck me, Seokmin. I want you to fuck me, I want you to fill me up with your cock, want you to stuff my cunt.”

Your husband cursed, and then his fingers were leaving you entirely. You gasped, a protest on your lips.

Then his hands were on your hips, turning you over. Seokmin hooked his arms around your legs, dragging them up and baring your cunt for him. He released his hold on one of your thighs to pull at his dick, a soft little curse escaping him.

Leaning over you, he was like a god. His bangs were stuck to his head by a sheen of sweat, his eyes dark and piercing. He seemed so wide, caging you in like this. His shoulders were broad and golden, Seokmin’s abs glistening from the sweat brought on by your activities. The little silver chain around his neck dangled as he hovered, seemingly taunting you.

When the head of his cock brushed against your hole you couldn’t help but groan, squeezing your eyes shut. You knew the head of his dick was thick, knew how it always took a moment for your body to accept it.

Seokmin lowered his face, pressing his forehead against yours. You dragged your eyes from his dick to his face, watching his face contort as he tried to control himself, tried to keep from plunging into you. His pretty lips were twisted, eyes squeezed shut.

He jostled the two of you, moving his hand from his dick. Seokmin brushed his fingers against your clit before he focused on it, rubbing at it. Each rub, each drag of his digits against your clit had you arching into him, mouth falling open at the pleasure that began pooling in your gut.

“There’s a good girl,” he murmured, and then he was pressing into you. Seokmin guided himself in gently, feeding you slowly, your cunt still so tight around him despite having prepared you.

“Tell me --” You gasped out, hands moving to squeeze at his biceps. “Tell me when.”

Seokmin nodded, his nose brushing against yours. You knew you couldn’t take all of him, couldn’t fit all of his dick inside of you if you were expected to be able to walk out of the hotel tomorrow.

“You’re so fucking tight, princess,” he huffed, mouth hot against your cheek. “Always so fucking tight around my dick, always squeezing around me so perfectly. You were made for me, princess, fuck.”

Seokmin settled against you, the hand that was on your clit moving instead to brace beside you on the bed. He was completely still, his gentle pants warming your body and causing you to shiver.

“Seokmin,” you breathed, clenching around his cock and drawing out a low groan. He was so thick and long and even though he wasn’t entirely inside of you, you felt so completely full. It stung a little, the stretch, but you couldn’t help but grind your hips up into him, searching eagerly.

“Stop,” he gasped out, eyes flying open. His eyes were wide, his fingers digging into your skin and surely leaving little crescents. “Sweetheart, don’t move.”

You tensed in his hold, your hands stilling against him. “Seokmin? Seokmin, are you okay? Fuck, Seokmin, I swear if you’re hurt --”

“No --” Seokmin ducked his head, burying his face into your sweaty neck. “Fuck. Princess, I’m gonna cum.”

You blinked, uncomprehending. “You -- Seokmin, we haven’t even done anything!”

“I know!” He cried out, unwilling to face you. “I know! I’ve just -- I’ve been hard since I dropped you off at the club and nearly came in my pants when you were grinding on me there, and I wanted to fuck you rough and hard but I’m going to fucking spill right now.”

“Oh my God,” you whispered. “Seokmin. We’ve been married for a whole fucking year. We’ve been having sex for nearly six years.”

“You’re so mean,” he mumbled. “So fucking mean to me.”

You laughed, moving a hand to bury in his hair. You stroked his hair, messing with it, pulling. “I love you, Lee Seokmin,” you giggled. “Even if you cum really easily.”

He sighed, and then Seokmin was lifting himself off of you. He guided one of your legs to wrap around his hips before he braced himself against the bed, leaning over you. “Okay. Okay. I’m good.”

Then Seokmin was pulling out, the drag bringing out a whine from both of your mouths. You couldn’t help but toss your head back, eyes fluttering shut.

The whole world seemed to stop as the head of his dick caught on your hole, as he paused. You didn’t even dare breathe, didn’t dare move. Your entire being was zeroed in on him and you, and the spot where the two of you would join.

Seokmin snapped his hips, burying himself to the hilt inside of you. You cried out, hands flying to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. You tossed your other leg around him, crossing at the ankles.

“That’s a good girl,” he murmured, and then he was pulling back out again.

Seokmin set a furious pace, jackhammering inside of you as if he could make up for the pause earlier by slamming into your cunt. His balls slapped against your pussy as he plunged inside, the slapping of his skin against yours filling the room alongside the squelching of your cunt as he impaled you over and over, his cockhead thick and ramming against your core relentlessly, never sparing it, abusing it.

Your husband fucked you stupid, refusing any mercy for your cunt. You knew he would leave bruises from the brutal hit of him against your cunt, knew you wouldn’t be able to sit down without feeling him for a week, but all you could do was moan and cry out, pussy accepting him eagerly, yearning for his dick.

You clenched down on him and then Seokmin was gasping, voice catching in his throat. He thrusted a handful more before he was spilling inside of you, his cum flooding into your cunt and painting it white.

“Fuck,” he groaned, eyebrows furrowing. “Fucking -- so fucking good -- filling you up, gonna fucking fill you until your little cunt can’t take it --”

Seokmin continued to drive into you as he came, babbling nothing. Once he was done he stilled, ducking his head against your collar and gasping.

Then he was pushing off of your body, throwing your legs open. Seokmin wedged himself between your thighs, his hands flying to your cunt. He pressed himself against the bed, attaching his mouth to your cunt, tongue plunging in alongside his cum and eagering cleaning you out.

He ate you just as he fucked you -- furiously. Seokmin ate you out as if it were his last meal, as if he desired nothing more in the world. He ate his cum and your cunt juices eagerly, and it only took three rubs of your clit in tandem with his tongue plunging inside before you were cumming, spasming around him.

Seokmin continued to eat you out as you came, unrelenting in his task. Your hips grinded up into his mouth until you couldn’t, overstimulation flooding through your senses. You hissed, your thighs coming down on either side of his face.

“Seok --” You gasped out, hands flying to his hair.

He pulled away, his face completely a mess. Seokmin glanced over you, taking in your heaving chest, your wide eyes. Then he was smirking a little, ducking his head back between your thighs. “I think you can be a good girl and take another, don’t you think?”

The yes was barely out of your mouth before his mouth was reattaching to your cunt. Your cunt squeezed around his tongue, protesting the intrusion, screaming in sensitivity. But your body practically sang for him, hips grinding up into his mouth, constant pleas of more and more streaming from your lips.

It wasn’t until you came again did Seokmin move from between your thighs, his lower face a mess with your juices and his cum. He rubbed at his face though it didn’t really do anything, instead spreading the mix around even more.

Seokmin climbed up your body and, despite the mess, when he pressed his mouth to yours you couldn’t help but accept him, tongues meeting and tangling. He kissed you like he ate your cunt, tongue clever as it moved inside your mouth.

He broke apart from you with a click of your mouths, his lips catching on the underside of your jaw and sucking. You gasped, arching into his touch, hands delving into his hair. “Seok -- Seokmin -- I saw the tub before -- let’s -- let’s take a bath --”

Seokmin pulled away, eyebrows furrowed. He looked ridiculously adorable despite the mess on his lower half, his lips in a pout. “You want to be done? Already?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, hands latching together behind his head and bringing him back down for another kiss. You spoke against his mouth as you kissed him, words muffled against his lips. “I said -- I said there’s a bath, Seokie. Baths don’t always mean the night is over.”

Your husband stilled against you. He abruptly pulled away, eyes wide and mouth opening in a wide grin, his pearly white teeth flashing. Seokmin dropped a kiss to your breast before he jumped off of the bed, nearly tripping over his discarded underwear.

“I’ll start the bath!”

754 notes · View notes

itsmebytch001 · 9 months

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Hi! Can I request Yandere Morales family how each got to be how they are when reader was a cute wittle baby? Cause Reading all those fics it got me curious. Like each family member having a moment with her. Idk if it was already asked or you did something similar maybe im forgetting, ok im overdoing it- ok i will stop luv your fics!

Aaron was drowning, drowning in stress, in nappies and the new terrifying resonsisnlty of a human baby and all by himself. You were just sitting there, alone on the couch in your pink onesie wriggling around while Aaron cleaned the house, finally getting round to it after the first 2 months of your life the house had fallen into dissaray so much so even Jeff said it when he came to check up on him.

Jeff: "Jesus christ man, what the hell happened?" He said while observing the pig stie of a house he was living in, standing in the doorway.

Aaron: "I had a baby that's what" He responded collpased on the couch with you sitting acorss from them both in your high chair, playing with your dolls.

Jeff: "The dishes! There is a mountain of dishes! Who is even eating here?!"

Aaron: "UUuugggghhhhhh" He groaned into the couch cushion.

Jeff: "Where's Diana?" He asked about your Mom, he knew at this point she may had just left, again, maybe she'd come back maybe she wouldn't it made no diffrence to your care, to the house, to Aaron.

Now Aaron had never really wanted kids, he liked the idea of being an Uncle when Miles was born, but was okay with it stopping there, when he found out Diana, was pregnant he panicked, so much so he did approach her about abortion, she refused and he understood that, but what he didn't understand was, if she refused to have an abortion, why was she doing all the things you should never do while pregnant, she was smoking more then before, drinking eating an unusual amout of sushi, so much so Rio felt the need to remind her, she really can't be doing these things.

Rio: "Diana! You can't smoke youre Pregnant!" She whacked the cigeratte out her hand, and curshed it under her foot.

Diana: "Excuse me?"

Rio: "You could really hurt the baby! And your drinking, eating pork and what not, your hurting it!"

Diana: "How Dare you try and order me around, who the fuck do you think you are?"

Rio: "I am that baby's auntie, and right now it seems I care more about it, then you!"

And it as after that converatsion that Aaron was forbidden from seeing her, or Jeff for the final few months, and during that time Aaron was having to pour out wines down the drain and throwing away cigs behind her back, and when she caught him she would loose her mind.

Diana: "You are trying TO CONTROL ME"

Aaron:" Diana, You know You can't be drinking while pregnant you could fuck up the baby"

Diana: "I don't give a fuck, I'm not letting this thing control me, or YOU"

Aaron: "Diana, I'm not letting you drink in this damm house"

And after you were born, she refused to hold you, look at you and ceratinly not feed you with her breasts, the hospital said it was post partom depression, and it was. And it was harsh and crule on her, she of course needed rest afterwards, So Aaron inslisted the help of Rio with you, while Aaron took care of the house, but it was once Diana was up and about 'taking care of you' while Aaron was at work Rio came over to visit, clean the air with Rio and see how you were doing, which is when she entered the house she found you, unattended in a sink bath, while you Mom off in her room, asleep, maybe having been drinking.

When she picked you up, and dried you off she saw you had gotten smaller than the last time 'oh god it's gotten worse'

So she set you off on the side and made you a bottle and began to feed you, she heard shuffling round the main room, when Diana came round the corner to see Rio feeding her baby.

Diana: "What are you doing in my house?"

Rio: "Diana, I found her in the sink, alone"

Diana: "Yeah she was getting herself clean"

Rio: "She's 8 weeks old?"

Diana: "How did you get in here?"

Rio: "My key?"

Diana: "You have a key?"

Rio: "Yeah, Aaron gave me one"

Diana: "Oh...Well can you get away from my baby please"

Rio: "She's smaller than she should be"

Diana: "What are you insuinutaing?"

Rio: "Diana, I think youre sick"

Diana: "How dare you"

Rio: "Please, I can help you, you need to be a mother and right now you can't, beacuse you are sick!"

Diana: "Oh fuck you, I'm going to sleep"

And so she did, she slept most days, or was out the house leaving you alone in the house for many hours, only for Aaron to come home to find you alone, screaming in your crib. Rio stared coming over more and more so just to keep you fed and changed, and it was exausting, so much so that eventually she just took you, with Aarons knowledge of course to save herself the trip, and this point Miles was walking, or more waddeling around while you were just rolling everywhere, Miles had his first word, which was 'floor' and you were just babbling.

Aaron didn't know how to thank her enough when he picked you up all he could do was thank her, try and hand her money she would always refuse while Jeff would talk custody with Aaron.

Jeff: "Listen man, she needs help, and she's not getting it"

Aaron: "yeah I know but, I can't just take her baby from her"

Jeff: "Youre not taking her, she can have visits! But right now she's putting her at risk"

Aaron: " It's been only a few weeks, she might get better"

Rio: "Aaron, She's not feeding her" She added, holding you.

Jeff: "we should really stop calling her 'the baby' she needs a name"

Rio: "Dose she not have a name?! Aaron!? Its been almost a month you need a name!"

Aaron: "I know I know! God What the hell am I doing!?" he groaned into his hands.

Aaron: " How about...oh god I don't know!"

Jeff: "You had 9 months to choose a name, and now your choosing?!"

Aaron: " I KNOW!"

Rio, while looking down into your big brown eyes, Aarons eyes, she carried you over and handed your to your father, placing you into his lap, using your tiny hands to grab onto Rio's sleeve with a pink bow in your hair. Rio placed a hand onto Aarons shoulder.

Rio: "Come on Aaron, something pretty"

While Aaron looked down at you, grabbing at his shirt wriggling back and fourth while Miles stumbled across the living room.

Aaron: "...Is...Melissa okay?"

Rio: "eh...It's not great"

Jeff: "She dosen't give me Melissa vibes"

Rio: "How's...Y/n?"

Jeff:" Y/n Davis"

Aaron: "Yeah, Y/n Davis...Y/n Davis" He nodded to himself.

Jeff: "This is the kinda moment you take a picture of, stay right there!" He said as he rushed over to grab the camrea, While Rio grabbed Miles and sat him next to Aaron, Jeff got the camrea and set it onto the table with a 5 second timer.

Rio: "Everyone Smile!" And so you did, and that pictures lives on in the family photo book, that is Rio's favourtie memory or you as a baby.

Now Jeff's favourtie memory was when he thought he had lost you, he had taken you and Miles to the park, you were in a stroller while Miles waddled beside his Dad when he stopped off at the park, Miles was always beside you when you went off to play, he would sit with you as you battled it out with your Bratz dolls, Miles also liked to play Bratz Battle, and you two would mainly stick to each other, you didn;t have a massive intrest in talking to other kids, just the Bratz pack and Miles, that's all you needed at the park, While you and Miles sat together in the small grassy area Miles had drawn the attention of some other kids, who pulled him away to play with them, you were so englufled with your game that you didn't initally didn't notice, Miles waved off to you as he was pulled away to play on the swings, and while he did, he looked over to check on you every few moments, really Jeff had been doing that, but instead he was chatting with another Dad, called Kallum.

Jeff: "So which one's yours?"

Kallum pointed over to a little girl with pig tails.

Kallum: "There, by the climbing frame"

Jeff: "Cute, I'm here with my Son and my Nice"

Kallum: "Nice, Mines called Melissa, you?"

Jeff: "Miles, and funny you should say that, My Nice was almost called Melisa" He looked back round where he thought you were hanging round with your dolls, only not to see you or Miles.

Oh fuck Oh fuck Oh fuck

He scanned the area for Miles, to thankfully see him on the monkey bars, but with out you.

Jeff: "MILES" He yelled out for him, miles got off the monkey bars and ran towards his Dad.

Jeff:" Miles, where is Y/n?"

Miles pointed over, to where he thought you were, but there was nothing, only one of your many dolls.

Miles: "...oh"

Jeff: "Miles, did you see where Y/n went?"

Miles: "No.."

Jeff: "Oh god, oh god, oh god" He rubbed his face with his hands, rushing over to where Miles thought you were, with your doll's just left there in the dirt, you would never just leave them, you would scream if your Dad Aaron tried to take them from you for dinner time, so why had you left them?

Did someone...take you?

Jeff began to hyper ventilate.

Jeff: "Y/N! Y/N! CAN YOU HEAR ME! Y/N!"

Nothing.

Jeff called out again and again, and go no response, he took out his phone to call in the cavalry, a friend at he police precent, called Mike.

Calling Mike

ring

Mike: "Hello?"

Jeff: "Mike! Mike listen to me, I need a search team, sniffer dogs, I need everyone, everyone!"

Mike: "Calm down man, what happened?"

Jeff: "I took my nice out to the park and she's gone"

Mike: "How long as she been gone?"

Jeff: "like 5 minutes"

Mike: "Jeff, I can't send a whole team if she's only been gone 5 minutes"

Jeff: "Please Mike, she left her doll's and she would never just leave them and you owe me!!"

Mike: "...okay, fine"

And so, about a half hour later a search team had arrived with some sniffer dogs, they took a sniff of your dolls and began to walk off. Miles timidly turned to his Dad, looking up at him.

Miles: "Is Y/n going to be okay?"

Jeff: "I don't know Miles"

And then he remembred, he had to tell Aaron he had lost you, he knew he would kill him, so instead he called Rio, to break the news.

Calling Rio

ring

Rio: "Hey baby"

Jeff: "Hey, i'm sorry but..I need to tell you something"

Rio: "...Okay?"

...

Rio: "YOU WHAT?! Hombre estúpido! What are you going tell Aaron?!"

Jeff:" Actually, I was hoping you would"

Rio: "Excuse me?"

Jeff: "he might kill me"

Rio: "oh my GOD, FINE!"

And so, about two hours later, Aaron and Rio had pulled up to the park, Aaron immedatley rushed out the car over to Jeff.

Aaron: "You lost my fucking kid!"

Jeff:" I know! But ive got everyone on it!"

Aaron: "YOU LOST MY FUCKING KID!" he screamed at him, pulling him closer by his shirt, only being seperated by Rio.

Aaron rubbed his hands over his face again and again, looking round the park aimlessly.

Aaron: "Oh my god, Oh my god"

Jeff: "The good news is, she left one her dolls an-"

Aaron: "She left it? Oh my god! She's been taken!"

Jeff: "No no, she might have just gone walk about"

Aaron: "Are you serious?"

Jeff: "Yeah I-"

Aaron: "She could have been taken by traffikers, or a pedophile or or-"

Jeff: "Listen, we can join the search team now"

And so they did, all wondering about with flash lights. trecking around the wooden area of the park calling out for you.

Aaron: "Y/N! Y/N! Its me, Its papa!"

Rio: "Y/n!! come out baby"

Jeff: "Y/n! Come on Y/n come out!"

Miles just followed his Mom, not really understanding what was happening, he started pulling on her jean leg.

Rio: "Not now baby, were busy"

Miles: "Mami, she's there" He said, pointing you. She looked over to se you, standing holding your Bratz doll.

Aaron: "Y/N! Oh my God thank God you are safe!" he said hugging you tightly.

Jeff: "Y/n, what were you thinking!?"

Rio: "Yeah, you could have gotten Uncle Jeff in serious trouble" She said, side eyeing her husband.

Y/n: "Chole wanted to see the berry bushes, So I took her" You said, holding out your doll.

Aaron: "Jesus christ"

Aaron didn't like that memory alot, He didn't like getting the call from Rio telling him you had gone missing, though yes everyrthing was fine in the end the fear of you being gone was mortifying.

But Aarons favourtite memory was simple, having had not been present during the birth was actually driven to the hospital by Jeff, with Rio and Miles in the back, he ran out the car, up the strairs and down the hall, barging in the delievry room he saw Diana, asleep next to you in a see through cot, wrapped up in pink blanket.

While Rio and Jeff rushed in aswell, they all flocked around you. Aaron turned to Rio.

Aaron: "Is it okay for me to touch her?"

Rio: "Yes of course"

Aaron tried despraltey to bring the courage to pick you up, he was visibly shaking as his hands rose to hold you, he then rested his hand on the edge of the cot.

Aaron: "I can't...I can't do it"

Jeff: "come on man, she's your daughter"

Aaron: "I-I" Aaron forced himself to slowly lift you from the cot, and bring you into his chest, holding you there for a few seconds as he began hyper ventilate, Jeff placed a hand on Aarons shoulder.

Jeff: "Its okay"

You opened your large eyes, to look at up him, and let out a small whine.

Aaron: "Oh my god" he sniffled as he began to cry softly, holding so tightly, but keeping note not to crush you.

Rio: "She's got your eyes"

Aaron: "Oh she's so beautiful"

SEND ME REQUESTS, OR EVEN ART ONES!!!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOW!!

#dad aaron davis #uncle aaron #aaron davis #aaron davis x reader #rio morales smut #jefferson morales #jeff morales #yandere spiderverse #yandere morales family #platonic yandere #morales family #yandere miles morales #miles morales x reader

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hanibalistic · 1 year

Text

#FFFAFA | GHOST.

genre | angst, fluff, platonic relationship au, grumpy dad x eager child dynamic

word count | 2754

warning | mention of death, mention of pain, mention of human trafficking, mention of kidnapping / i know absolutely nothing about this game and this man.

note | i just thought his appearance and the little personality i can tell from tiktok fit the description of this scenario. also i like this trope. i apologize in advance but this thought just had to go somewhere other than my head.

“Where’s the kid.”

A stoic voice matched with an even more intimidating stance—the medic did not need to turn around to know it was Simon Riley (or Ghost, as he liked to be called) talking behind him. He calmly turned around to face the sudden speaker, and his brows raised. Despite barely healing from severe unattended injuries and dehydration, Ghost remained tall and demanding; nobody should expect anything less from him.

“Where’s the kid.” Ghost said again when he did not receive an answer promptly enough. He enunciated every word with gruff but no grit. It could be the hazy brain taking a small toll on him. He did remember the other medic recommending a timely rest that he had no plan to take. Until he could find you, that was.

The medic looked around the area, massively confused. Kid? What kid? Has Simon Riley finally lost his goddamn mind after being stranded in the desert for weeks without the proper nourishment? He was almost killed, after all! The only reason he managed to make it back was that whoever tried to kill him foolishly thought he died. Could this possibly be the side effect of the recent traumatic experience? Having hallucinations?

“Fucking hell, where’s my kid?” That sounded like a question this time around. His voice had more restlessness in it, if one couldn’t fathom him ever being frantic about anything. Ghost had taken a step forward, his hands curled into fists, and his gaze hardened to scare the answer out of an unassuming medic. “The kid that came here with me. They are about this tall. Dirty hair, really fucking chatty? You could not have missed them.”

The medic cowered a step back. Ghost has finally lost his mind this time because he has no idea what nonsense that was. Humming in thoughts in hopes to fill the silent air, the medic glanced to the side just outside the tent, hoping to see someone pass by that could help him with the delusional lunatic asking him such an unfathomable question. A child? Everyone would have known if there was a child running around this place!

Ghost could see the altered glance immediately, and for a moment, he was about to lose his temper. But, he found that his question was answered as soon as he gave the medic a chance and turned around to look over his shoulder. There you were, just standing outside the tent in your dirty clothes and bare feet, staring at the helicopter with genuine fascination. Ghost furrowed his brows in disdain after he scanned your appearance. How come nobody gave you a change of clothes?

Wordlessly, Ghost turned around and left the medic’s tent. He marched over to where you stood, coming up behind you silently until he was finally within arm’s reach. He grabbed a fistful of the collar of your shirt and pulled you off the ground, causing you to struggle with a yelp of surprise. He turned you around slowly to face him, and his deadpan eyes did not change when you smiled sheepishly upon recognizing him.

“Oh…” you rubbed your hands together apologetically and placed them near your chin in a prayer gesture, “I didn’t know you were awake.”

“I barely slept, you idiot,” he said as he carefully dropped you on the ground. “I told you not to run around by yourself.”

You scoffed at him, dusting off your clothes as if you had fallen and gotten back up without his help. “I thought this was supposed to be a safe place!”

“It is,” he clarified calmly. “But safe places can get invaded.”

“So it’s not safe,” you pointed out smugly, poking his arm as if you’ve made a point he cannot defend himself against. The only response you got was a flick on your forehead. His fingers sounded against your skull, the force strong enough to make you stumble back before he watched you gather yourself together again.

Ghost did not once tear his eyes off you. His cold heart froze over again with paranoia when his brain even raised the idea of looking elsewhere during the topic of potential danger.

This was supposed to be a safe place where the medics and his comrades were. This was where his most trusted fighters are. If an invasion was to happen, things could not go nearly as bad as if he was anywhere else. But, unfortunately, you were neither a medic who knew the risks of staying at a place like this, nor were you a trained soldier who knew how to protect yourself in a blazing war.

You were just a kid he found along the way, who had latched onto him for survival, and he had no reason to kill. Fortunately for you, he did not have to choose between you and himself during the early days of you following him in his travels. By the time danger did welcome you both in its arms, Ghost had, surprisingly, knocked down the impenetrable walls of putting himself above orders and logic. Or perhaps it was you who brought a hammer and knocked them down for him.

Who knew? Simon Riley was not an expert in human emotions; he feels them, he just never thinks about them. He knew things could go as wrong as Hell would allow it if an invasion did happen. He knew that it would have been over the second you were captured. But Ghost had no plan to let it happen ever again.

After that night, on the twentieth day of traveling. It was right after you both were offered some food by a suspicious group of travelers, whom Ghost later found out had sold information of your existence to a group of recruiters of a human trafficking ring. You were snatched away in his line of sight after you had strayed too far from him, and he has never been more enraged. Becaise you disobeyed him, and because people underestimated his ability to kill absolutely everyone in sight with his bare hands who even dared to take you from him.

Ghost had no plan to let something like that happen ever again. So, if an invasion happens, this will remain a safe place for you. Any perimeter where he exists will be a safe place for you as long as he can guarantee it.

“Hmph!” You pulled a face at him when he remained silent at your words. Crossing your arms before you, you looked up at him and scoffed, “All adults do is lie.”

“Do not frame me for something I never did,” Ghost retorted, his hands awkwardly placed at his hips because he did not know what else to do with them now that he wasn’t holding a weapon. He let them drop to his sides immediately, a dissatisfied groan leaving his lips. “I have never lied to you.”

You pursed your lips together into a knowing smirk, but your eyes spoke a story of annoyance. You clicked your tongue, giving him a mischievous shake of your head, then you began to hop on your spot to prepare yourself for landing. Ghost immediately rolled his eyes, mentally exhausted from your antics. He knew what you planned to do, and he remembered the ‘lie’ you implied he told you. He had no plans to indulge you in your self-assigned mission to take his mask off.

“Incoming!”

“Damn it–you cannot shout that here–hey!”

You jumped and immediately grabbed onto his strong arm. Your feet kicked against his shin for momentum, which barely gave you any, but you stepped on his leg to use as leverage to climb up his body, so all was well. He struggled against you as you grabbed onto his shoulders and hoisted yourself over one side of it, letting yourself dangle and threatening to fall face-first onto the ground. He clumsily—ha! as if!—placed a hand forward to catch your reckless self just in case, while his other hand pressed against your middle back to keep you on his shoulder.

This was not the first time you have climbed him like a tree, paying his physical boundaries no respect as you stepped and kicked against his body to reach his shoulders. But he found himself catching you whenever you decided to fling yourself to the ground like a carcass, and he found himself holding onto your ankles when you thought it would be fun to fling upside down on his back as he walked. It was never a good idea; you always ended up feeling nauseated, and you liked to blame the heinous smell of his sweat.

And you had made a habit of stacking your body atop his when you slept so you could feel all of his movements, and you would know if he ever tried to abandon you again. He had a sickening realization that he had not felt that familiar body weight in several nights.

“Hey! Listen to me!” Ghost whisper-yelled at you, but you paid no attention to him. “You cannot be yelling stupid things like that!”

You scoffed with a childish smile. “Don’t worry, Ghost! Nobody can hear me but you!”

“With that high-pitched screech, they can hear you all the way from the moon,” he said.

“Oh, that’s where I’m going next! To the moon!” You giggled as you raised your torso and slapped a hand to his face. However, interestingly, you did not attempt to peel his mask off. You only looked at the helicopter in front of you and pointed at it. “Maybe I can get there in a helicopter!”

“You need a rocket ship for that,” Ghost said as he slowly helped your sliding body off his shoulder and onto the ground.

“A helicopter can be a rocket ship if I wanted it to. This is my world now,” you mused as you looked up at him. Your smile shifted a little when you saw how he looked at you—stoic, cold, but not without kindness and, hidden somewhere, remorse he was unwilling to process. You frowned gently at him; Ghost was still delusional. “Do you remember what you promised me about your mask?”

“That I will take it off so you can see my face,” he replied.

You tilted your head and widened your smile slightly. Your brows furrowed with a sorrowful tint as you whispered, “That’s not all.”

Ghost could remember. He didn’t think he had ever forgotten anything important, and a promise with a child he had unknowingly bound himself to would never be abandoned by him. He just had a hard time acknowledging it—thinking about it was unsettling for him, almost like an eerie itch along his body he could not scratch off. He was being avoidant because he was so helpless about it.

“I promised you that I would take off my mask and let you see my face…” he repeated, and choking down the knot in his throat, he continued, “if that is the last thing you’ll ever see of me.”

You smiled. You knew he would remember.

“But that will not be until years later, so there is no bloody reason why you are bringing it up now,” he added urgently, even though his voice didn’t show it.

You played with your fingers, unsure of what you could say.

There was no way that could happen years later because you were already dead. And Ghost knew that because you died in his arms.

“You cannot dream for years, Ghost,” you whispered. “You have to wake up.”

Just like that, suddenly, everything was gone. The tents, the sky, the helicopter, the clouds, the guns and ammo, the wind—everything surrounding you were gone. You looked around at the scenery change; the dream was re-wiring itself according to Ghost’s memories and control, including yourself. The bloodied spot on your chest grew big and wet, and the sky was dark with visible stars, and there was the knife he had pulled out of you after someone threw it toward you as a last desperate attempt at revenge.

“I don’t like the blood stain.” You frowned at yourself.

“Okay.” It was gone.

Ghost stared at you, his emotions thoroughly mixed up. He has been through this before. He has undergone trauma before. This was nothing extraordinary, and it should not be. He understood it. Death, dying, trauma, killing, blood. He understood it all. He has been hurt, pierced, shot, tortured. He understood it all. His father’s cruelty, his father’s abusive hands, his father’s degeneracy. He understood it all.

But did he truly understand this?

Pain comes in various forms. Pain can stem from different causes. The explosion of a bullet inside his body or the blade across his flesh. He knew what it felt like to be hurt by the names in red, to be hurt by a father. But did he know how to fathom it when his pain landed on somebody else’s skin? Did he know what it was when his pain choked through him in the form of another’s lifeless body? Did he understand the agony that happens when a child that has bound themself to a parent, abandons them by death?

He experienced it, but he did not understand it.

“Please don’t be mad at me,” you muttered. “I tried to hold on, I did. But my chest hurt.”

“I am not mad at you. I won’t get mad over something you can’t control,” he said. “I should have protected you better.”

You jumped faintly, standing on your tip-toes and rocking your heels back and forth. “You did!” You cheered quietly. “You kept me safe all this time.”

“You died.”

“I did.” You frowned in feigning sorrow. “Bummer.”

Oh, but he did understand it. He understood it very well. The consequence of your death blatantly presented itself to him in this dream. You were a dream. Your being safe was a dream. Your being alive was a dream. You climbing him like a tree, you talking about getting on a helicopter and flying to the moon, you sleeping on him so he would not leave you, you talking back to him, you shouting in his ears—it was all a dream he struggled not to wake up from.

In here, he gets to keep the kid.

In here, he gets to keep you.

And he gets to take you to the moon on a helicopter that functions as a rocket ship. Because he wires his dream according to your childish desires. Because he will give you whatever you want. Because he had given himself the role of a father he never thought he would fill.

How did it feel when you died? Agonizing and staggering. Like he failed at a job he knew nothing about but was doing his best in. Like he was full of nothing but anger and guilt because everything that could ever happen to you directly links back to him, because you were his responsibility. Like someone reached between your ribs and found his heart there, and they ripped it to pieces and left the shards lying inside of you.

How did it feel when you died? Like a dad just lost his baby, and he remembered once again how cruel this world could be when innocent children cannot be above adult hatred and violence.

“I’m sorry,” he uttered. “I did all I could.”

You grinned as you approached him and took his hand. You took off his glove, pressed his palm to your face, and nuzzled against it, feeling the callousness of his skin that has held more death than life, more blood than skin. “You did for me. Thank you.”

He wished to caress your cheek, but his joints remained frozen. He wished to smile, but he found it hard to quirk his lips when he realized the dimming of his consciousness. Beneath the skull mask, he managed a light-hearted smirk, and, if one could fathom it, his gaze softened with unswayable care, curated by the one thing greater than human tragedy—love, supposed. But that would be too cliché, would it not? Besides, this is Simon Riley!

“Do you still wish to see my face?” Ghost asked, “I’m giving you a positive.”

You squinted your eyes joyfully at him, willing that he not be defined by the tragedies he endured and that his heart could remain soft. Perhaps if you put a little bit of yourself in him, he would.

“You made me a promise!” You said with a nod.

That he did.

#simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost x oc #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #will probably delete this soon because this is not kpop lmao

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