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#I cried at least once every week if not more
allthelovehes · 2 days
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Field Day Reunion* | Part 2
Summary: Harry finally takes Y/N home when Charlie is with his grandmother for the night.
Pairing: Singledad!Harry x Teacher!Y/N
Word count: 5K
Warnings: Lovemaking, oral f receiving, eager babies, exes to lovers?
A/N: I imagine Harry and Y/N to be British in this universe, so they went to highschool from age 11 - 16(ish) and college from 16 - 20(ish). Idk why but I felt the need to specify haha ENJOY LOVES
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Harry and Y/N agreed to take things slow for the sake of Charlie. This means that they have been going on dates every now and then, but not every weekend because Harry doesn't want to just drop off his kid at Anne's, so he can go out with this woman. That doesn't mean however that they don't see each other.
Y/N started teaching Charlie's class a couple of weeks ago. Ever since then, Harry sees her every day because he is the one who drops Charlie off at school and picks him up later in the day. Those little moments are filled with loving glances and private jokes but also Harry teasingly flirting with the love of his life.
Yes, Harry is absolutely smitten by this woman. Given their history, he now believes that he shouldn't have let her go back then. Yes, being high school sweethearts who are going to different colleges isn't the perfect scenario for two love birds. They didn't want to do the long-distance thing when they were only 17, but Harry now knows it would've all been worth it.
He doesn't regret their decisions though. If the two of them never broke up, Harry would've never become a dad to Charlie and he wouldn't want to miss him for the world. The kid is his life, he'd literally give everything to see that little cheeky smile on the four-year-old's face.
Anne was a big fan of Y/N when they were teenagers, she was the sweetest girl so of course she approved of Harry dating her. So when Harry told his mom how Y/N is now Charlie's new teacher she was excited, to say the least. But when he told his mother that they had been on a date, her heart was filled with love. She was rooting for his son, finally meeting that happiness he was so dearly craving.
So, from the moment Harry announces to his mom about him and Y/N taking it slow, Anne has done anything in her power to help Harry out. Taking over babysitting duty whenever she can and just keeping the little boy out of her son's way. Hinting at her son how she's free next Saturday, in case Charlie wants to come play at grandma's house. Just, everything.
And that's exactly why, this afternoon, he decides to take his mom up on that offer. Harry and Y/N have been on four official dates so far and not once has he taken her home. It felt a bit too forward, too soon. But today was different, Harry invited her over to his house, show her around and make his intentions very clear, she's a keeper.
“Char, come on. Put your shoes on, grandma is waiting for you.” Harry tells his son, picking up the overnight bag he packed for his son.
“Where are you going, daddy? I wanna go too!” The little boy cries, pouting at his dad with such innocence.
“I'm sorry, buddy. But you are staying with grandma.” Harry explains to his son, feeling a bit guilty. But he also didn't want to specify anything about his plans for today. See, Charlie is the biggest fan of Y/N at school and it warms Harry's heart to see him so fond of her. But that only gives him more reasons to keep his love life in the shadows for his son.
“But why?” Charlie whines, but knowing it's already a lost battle, he slips on his shoes in silence. Harry shakes his head, suppressing a giggle. Once a kid starts asking why, you know there is no ending to the discussion.
“Let's go, Char.” Harry states instead, dragging his boy out of their house and into the car.
After he drops Charlie off and Anne's, he drives straight back home. His heart pounding with nerves. He'd be lying if he said that he isn't a little bit anxious right now. He hasn't had a girl over for years on end, not in this context. And he's really hoping she's going to want to stay over. He told her to bring an overnight bag, just in case she wanted to stay. He also mentioned how Charlie is sleeping at his mother's place, hoping it would send the right message, but he wasn't quite sure.
When he arrives home, he finds Y/N just parking her car a little further down the street. She's on time, more like half an hour early. Harry lets out a nervous giggle and he hopes that it isn't too obvious that he's anxious right now.
“Eager much?” He jokes as soon as she reaches his front yard. She giggles slightly embarrassed and Harry simply wants to kiss that cute blush off her face.
“I didn't want to run late. Traffic, you know.” She explains, a small smile gracing her face.
“Relax, babe. I'm glad you are early, actually.” Harry smiles sweetly, pulling her in for a quick hug and placing a quick kiss on her lips. “Hi.”
“Hey.” Y/N lets out a flirtatious giggle, getting on her toes to press her lips on his. Harry instantly melts into the kiss, holding her tightly against his chest.
“C'mon, let's go inside.” Harry whispers, pulling away a bit hesitantly. Y/N softly nods in agreement and Harry loosens his grip on her, only to grab her hand and guide her inside. “Welcome to our home.”
“It looks lovely.” Y/N compliments, letting her eyes roam around the living room. You can tell by the way his space is organised that Harry is a neat person, the room is filled with all things the father and son love dearly. A nice TV hangs against the wall, some family pictures are scattered around the wall above the couch and the wall across the room holds shelves filled with movies, video games and records. It's all Harry and it takes the man's breath away knowing that she likes his place.
“Thank you.”
“Let me give you a tour.” Harry says, tugging on her arm and guiding her through his entire house. She had already seen the small hallway when she first entered the house, and a glimpse of the living room, but there is more. There is an open kitchen concept which leads out into the backyard with big sliding doors. It's really neat and pretty, every one of the rooms in the house has little Harry vibes. The house screams family home, it suits Harry really well.
When they finish the tour downstairs, Harry hesitates to show her his upstairs living space. He feels like taking her upstairs is something very intimate, maybe even too forward, yet he would love to show her around. With an unsure glance at her, Harry points his finger to the stairs, silently asking if she wants to continue the tour.
Y/N nods softly and gives him a sweet, yet excited smile. “Let's go, I'm very curious.” She says causing Harry to chuckle and they continue their walk through his house.
“Okay, so this is Charlie's room and his bathroom.” Harry explains. Y/N takes it all in as if he's giving her the time of her life. Harry is beyond grateful because he really does love her and he hopes that she is going to melt into their lives and live here one day.
They move over to the other side of the hallway, Harry gestures at the next room, rubbing the back of his neck a bit nervously. Y/N opens the door carefully when Harry speaks up. “This is uh- my room.” She pushes the door open further and carefully walks inside.
“This is very you.” She giggles when he walks in after her. Harry doesn't know why, but a blush creeps up his cheeks. Y/N isn't mocking him or making fun of him, her giggle sounds very fond, maybe she is just as nervous as he is.
The bedroom is decorated with warm colours and it features a king-sized bed that looks comfy and cosy. Y/N's gaze is glued to the bed, no doubt in her mind that she'd like to sleep in a bed like that. Especially if that means Harry would be right next to her.
She doesn't ponder her thoughts for too long because she knows that it will end with an almost unbearable aching between her legs.
When they dated in high school, they were only 15 years old. So sleeping with one another was out of the question. They kept dating until they were 16 and 17, but it still didn't feel right for them at that moment to take that step. Now that they are both adults and they want to take things a bit more seriously, Harry would like to finally take the next step in their relationship. Maybe tonight.
“Uhm- so behind you is my ensuite.” He points to the door behind her, gesturing at it with a little nod.
“Oh my.” Y/N's attention is immediately turned to the door when Harry mentions it. She slowly opens the door, stepping into the big room. It's modern and clean, and oh so spacious. There's a walk-in shower and a big tub next to it.
Harry just watches her in awe as she explores the bathroom. She almost seems mesmerised by his place and that makes his heart flutter. It's like she belongs in here and it is her house.
Y/N makes her way back to Harry with a dreamy look in her eyes. She wraps her arms around Harry's neck and pulls him close. She sighs. “Your home looks very lovely, Harry.”
“Not as lovely as you.” He blurts out in a weak attempt at flirting, but it comes off a bit nervous so he might have failed miserably.
“You're cheesy.” Y/N giggles. Harry tightens his grip on her waist and pulls her impossibly closer, flashing her a dimpled smile. Y/N leans in and lets her lips softly brush his in a very gentle kiss. Harry immediately melts into the kiss, tilting his head down to kiss her deeper, but she abruptly pulls away after only a second.
“I- uh- I'll go put my bag in this room, if that's okay?” She asks and Harry crooks his head to the side.
“Does that mean what I think it means?”
“Depends on what you're thinking.” She winks and pulls away from Harry.
“That you are going to stay over.” Harry flashes her a flirtatious smile.
“Exactly.” Y/N nods in agreement, a smug smile on her face and a glimpse of hope flashing in her eyes. “If that's still alright with you?”
“Of course, you don't have to ask.” Harry reassures, making her grin widely. He squeezes her hand for a second and then releases her hand, letting her step away and put her bag in the room.
Harry is beyond excited now, hoping for them to take their relationship to the next level. If they hadn't broken up back in high school, Harry might've even proposed by now. Yeah, he'd love to be married to her one day. But maybe it's too soon to be thinking about marriage, he remembers how it felt to be with her, back when they were only kids, hopelessly in love. He wants that back, now more than ever. ***
Y/N comes back downstairs to see that Harry is already making dinner. He greets her with a wide smile and places a soft peck on her lips.
“Mmh, what's that smell?” She asks curiously, leaning on the counter in the kitchen and watching Harry move around confidently.
“You, I reckon.” He smirks. Y/N lightly shakes her head, failing to hide her smile. “I'm making you pasta, love.”
“Mmmh, my favourite.”
“I know.” Harry smiles proudly.
Harry lets her know how she can pick a wine if she wants, and where she can find some glasses. She of course doesn't miss the obvious fact that Harry has planned everything ahead. That certainly turns her on.
They eat in a comfortable silence, their ankles playfully tangling with one another. Harry does the dishes while Y/N takes a second in the living room to scroll through her phone. As soon as the kitchen is clean, Harry joins her on the couch. He lifts her legs, placing them on his lap and letting her lean into his side.
“Charlie was a little upset to leave.” Harry says all of a sudden. Y/N chuckles, knowing just how clingy that four-year-old is to his dad. She finds that unbelievably adorable.
“Is he going to be mad at us?” She asks, not knowing how to proceed. She doesn't want the cute and innocent little boy to dislike her in any way.
“Us? No. Me? Maybe. I haven't told him about us yet, don't want him to tell the whole class and make it awkward for you at work.” Harry explains causing Y/N to smirk and nod, loving that he cares that much.
“So what does he think we are?” Y/N pries.
“I've told him you are my friend and that I like you a whole lot.” Harry tells her, making her smile.
“A whole lot, huh?” Y/N giggles and wiggles her eyebrows. Harry flashes her a cheeky smile and runs his fingers through her hair. “Sounds like you have a little crush.” She teases.
“Hmm, kinda do. Can't help it though.” Harry admits and leans into her, planting a wet kiss on her cheek. Y/N squirms under his touch, silently letting him know that this is okay. Then, she dips her head slightly and closes her lips on his.
The kiss instantly deepens and Y/N quickly crawls into Harry's lap, getting a better angle to kiss him passionately. His hands rest on her hips and hold her in place as he slowly kisses his way down her neck. Y/N closes her eyes, taking in the touch and taste of Harry. God, he really does turn her on.
So far they hadn't had the opportunity to make out like this. It's all been dates outside of either of their homes and kisses over the console of his car or at her front door. Feeling her thighs on each side of him and her lips working his like it's her favourite pastime makes Harry understand how badly he wants this to work out.
She lets her arms drape around his neck as her mouth finds his again, this time kissing him hungrily. Her lips sloppily brush against his, her teeth leaving grazes against his already tender bottom lip. He's just as eager to make out with her as she is.
She eventually breaks away, though, just to reconnect with those green gems Harry calls his eyes. He gives her a warm smile and his thumbs run under her shirt.
“You are so beautiful, love. Always been.” Harry murmurs against her lips before going in for another kiss. The gesture takes her back to high school, them sharing kisses on her porch after he walked her home from school. Always ending with a tight hug and whispers that went something like this.
But she's not in high school anymore, and so are her urges. Now, she simply can't get enough of Harry, and by the feeling of a firm swelling in his pants, she knows he is affected as much as she. It's quite the ego boost.
Harry had spent many nights, imagining how his first time making love to her would go. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her heat deliciously dripping, his name leaving her lips in a quivering cry when they both reach the peak of their pleasure. But he always kept the fantasy bundled up in his mind, he knew that it was too soon for that. Not anymore, though, because Y/N makes it very clear to him that she wants him.
“Harry.” She whimpers and rolls her hips into his. Her core grinds against his crotch and she swears she could make herself come from this. Just humping his bulge will be enough to have her reeling.
“I'm taking that as your consent, love.” Harry murmurs, pecking her lips. But she doesn't reply, she just hums in agreement. Enough for Harry to lift the two of them up, causing her to squeal slightly. He carries her upstairs and drops her on the bed.
It's happening.
Harry climbs on top of her, pressing her down with his weight. His lips crash back on hers and she accepts his passionate kisses with just the same amount of passion. She tumbles her hands around his neck, making sure he stays exactly where he is right now.
After a few minutes of more intense making out, Harry needs to come up for air. His chest is rising and falling and his hair is a hot mess, Y/N giggles teasingly, running her fingers through it to arrange it neatly.
“You're gorgeous.” Harry utters and places a delicate kiss on her jaw, Y/N lets out a shaky breath. Her heart soars when Harry compliments her. Her chin tilts towards him, their mouths closing in for more sucking and licking and biting and tugging. “But I'm dying to know how gorgeous you are underneath all this.”
She can't help the blood that rushes to her cheeks, and she can hardly breathe. Harry reaches down, lifting her shirt over her head. He wastes no time as soon as the fabric passes over her body. He's sucking the skin at her shoulder with eagerness.
“Fuck.” She curses as his teeth nip into her, his lips brushing it so faintly as soon as there's the red and purplish proof he's marked her. For a moment he feels guilty, thinking it's inappropriate, but he can't help but want this. He wants to become one with her and claim her as his own.
Harry gently kneads her breast with his hands, eliciting an erotic moan from her. Y/N isn't shy about her body. Her hand reaches to her back and she unclasps her bra, pulling it off and letting her boobs bounce freely. Harry gulps at the sight, they are just as magnificent as he had imagined them a few years back.
Harry kisses his way down her upper body and without a second thought, takes a nipple into his mouth. The man toys with it with his tongue, making Y/N's centre burn with desire. She hisses at the warmth of his mouth sucking and licking and nibbling. He then moves over to the other nipple, giving it equal attention before Y/N groans and speaks up.
“Fuck, I- I can't take it any longer, Harry.” Y/N whimpers, feeling her core starting to pulsate. She needs him there and she needs it now.
“Tell me what you want then, love.” Harry husks, his cock painfully straining in his trousers.
“Touch me. Eat me out, lick me clean. I don't care, but for fuck's sake-“ She heaves, her hands roaming down to the lining of Harry's trousers.
He doesn't need to be told twice, within a few seconds he is standing next to the bed, tugging off her trousers with her panties. Before quickly stripping down, he catches her eye looking longingly at the obvious erection in his boxers. She has been waiting for this to happen.
Y/N smiles as she observes him, he is so beautiful to her. His every flaw is precious. Y/N sees how his veins are straining underneath the thin layer of his skin as his fists clench around his bed sheets. How those plump pink lips are slightly parted, allowing his rapid, ragged breathing to escape.
Harry palms himself through his briefs, stroking his erection while keeping his eyes focused on the woman beneath him. With her lying on his bed in all her beauty, legs spread, his name on her parted lips. She is truly the epitome of sheer loveliness.
Harry kneels down at the side of the bed before he wraps his arms around her thighs to pull her closer to the edge. “You sure, baby?” He asks once more, although Y/N has been very clear with what she wants.
“Positive.” She mutters and in less than a second, Harry gently presses his lips against her folds. Kissing all around her pussy but never quite touching the most intimate parts. This drives her insane and her hands reach out to tangle in his curls, pulling him closer to her center. “Please.” She whimpers needily.
Harry doesn't make her wait, instead, he runs one finger through her folds before spreading them apart as his tongue prods over the heated skin. A loud grunt escapes his lips when he realises how sweet she tastes. It's everything he could've imagined and more. He then gets to work, flicking his tongue over her clit expertly, making Y/N buck her hips in appreciation. She pants, trying not to explode from pleasure at the feeling.
His free hand slides up to her lower stomach to hold her down and withhold her from squirming too much. Her juices are escaping from inside her, soiling his lips and chin and the duvet. Harry just can't get enough. His thumb scratches at her pelvis and as Y/N looks down, she sees him bobbing up and down eagerly, his eyes closed shut as he devours her. She hisses at the obscene sight.
“Ah- f-fuck!” Y/N stutters out, Harry now digging his fingers into her and slightly curling them inside her, hitting her g-spot and bringing her closer to her orgasm. “Harry!” She warns, her eyes practically rolling back at how he licks her, but that doesn't make him stop, no, he speeds up even.
His lips are locked on her clit, sucking as his fingertips massage her inner walls and let her slick seep out. She can't keep her legs still if she tries, her toes are curling and her thighs are shaking.
“Mmmh.” Harry moans lowly, tasting her juices as they keep flowing, signalling she won't last a second longer. “Come for me, darling.” He releases for a split second only to murmur those words, causing her body to respond with a shattering climax.
“Oh-ffu-Harry!” Y/N cries out as the burning knot inside her undoes and explodes. It's nothing like she's ever felt before, men never really seemed to know how to satisfy her, but Harry is all it takes for her to let go and forget about all the bad sex she ever had. She gasps loudly, riding out her orgasm as he keeps working her gently with his fingers and mouth. “Jesus fuck.”
Her legs fall to her sides. Harry comes up and wipes his mouth clean, chuckling at how Y/N is gasping for air. Her chest heaving as she does her best to try and breathe. “Good?” He hums and kisses her collarbone as he awaits a response.
“Too good.” She chokes out a laugh as soon as she can catch her breath again. She reaches down to caress his cheek, causing him to glance up. “Need a taste.” She huffs, as her hand goes down to his cock. Harry smirks and stops her. Gaining her attention with a quirked brow, indicating she doesn't understand.
“I desperately want to be inside of you, and I won't be able to last as long as I plan to if your puffy lips would work their magic on my cock right now.” He tells her bluntly, keeping his lust-filled gaze on her. And honestly, that might've just been the sexiest thing anyone has ever told her. She gives him a coy nod before he props himself up. He pushes his boxers down his legs and hovers over her.
Harry reaches for his nightstand to grab a condom while Y/N finally has her tiny fingers wrapped around Harry's erect and dripping cock. It's long and hard, the tip glistening and soft. Her hand runs down his shaft, paying close attention to the pattern of those prominent veins. His big hand reaches for her wrist.
“Hate to stop you, love, but you'll be the death of me.” Harry breathes as he slowly rolls the condom down his shaft. Y/N smiles adoringly, holding back laughter. Harry shakes his head amused, glad he brings that same childlike chuckle to Y/N's face that he used to adore when they were younger.
Then Y/N's face changes to surprise as Harry wraps his arms around her upper body to place her further on the bed, her head now resting on his soft pillows. Harry takes his position above her and cups her chin as he gently kisses her.
“Are you ready for me?” He asks. His cock now directly at her entrance, he holds it with his hand, teasing her.
“Yes, H. Please, yes.” She eagerly replies. So Harry presses a firm kiss on her mouth as he carefully pushes himself in. Just the tip before he pulls back again, teasing her incredibly slowly. Y/N groans in annoyance but lets him. Instead, she circles her arms around his neck and lets her fingertips draw nonsensical doodles on his scalp.
Her eyes shut when he finally thrusts himself forward, inserting his cock fully and feeling her pussy clenching around him. At first, he moves slowly, deliberately waiting for the satisfying burn to fade. His palms are pressed flat next to her shoulders as he secures his balance above her. She just can't keep her moans inside, not when he fucks her with all the love in the world.
“Fuck.” Harry grits, noticing how tight she is. Y/N keeps her eyes closed and lets him take control, simply doing what she feels is right, and that is responding to Harry's pace and needs. She finds solace in his sweet scent and she's sure she's addicted to it from now on.
As his hips rock, he slips his tongue into her mouth. Y/N's walls clench around him as his pace picks up. Her slick dripping out of her, coating their inner thighs as he slowly dips in and out.
“Give me your leg.” He says as he taps his fingers on her right thigh. Y/N obediently pulls her leg up and Harry positions himself a bit differently, the tip of his cock hammering against her cervix, reaching spots she didn't know could feel so good.
He places her leg on his shoulder and holds it in place with his arm wrapped around her knee. The newfound angle allows him to fuck her deeper and Harry can't hold himself back anymore. He slams into her, she moans in pleasure when he picks up the pace, making their sweaty bodies become one.
“G-goddamn, love.” He grunts, loving how they move as one. The muscles of his abdomen tense up under his skin with every hard thrust he delivers, he simply can't bear to slow down his movement. Harry continues to rut in and out, bringing both of them higher.
His left-hand reaches down, pressing down on her pubic bone for extra stimulation as his thumb finds her clit. Harry then knows he won't last long. Feeling her pussy already milking his cock, he knows she is close too.
Y/N squeezes her eyes shut, feeling the butterflies in her stomach building up again as Harry hits her G-spot every time he slams back into her.
“H-Harry- shit.” Y/N pants rapidly. She can feel how her juices are dripping from her and covering Harry's dick, definitely creating a wet spot underneath her bum on the duvet. She rolls her eyes back. She can't hold out for much longer.
“Nghh, yeah? Come for me, again, baby.” Harry groans as his pace starts to get sloppy. Y/N loves how his brows furrow and his jaw tightens up every time he pushes in.
“Aah- I'm-“ She starts and her walls clench around him, squeezing his hard cock inside her as she comes. The sensation is too much for Harry to bear. His hot liquid explodes into the rubber as her warm pussy milks him.
“Mmph.” Harry moans and with the last bit of power in his limp body, he slowly rocks back and forth to ride out their orgasms until they both collapse, tired and sweating messes.
“God, I can't believe that just happened.” Y/N puffs as they lie next to each other for a few moments. Harry hums, rolling to her side and pulling out of her in the process. Y/N catches his glance, seeing how his green eyes look like they shine even in the dark, love and affection radiating from them.
“I finally had sex with the girl of my dreams.” He murmurs, scooting a bit closer as Y/N feels him reach to her hand to twine their fingers together. She giggles at his sweetness before opening her mouth to speak.
“I now understand why you didn't want Charlie here today.” She remarks, earning a playful look from Harry. She brings her fingers up to brush the hair off his forehead. “I love you.” Y/N suddenly utters, surprising herself. “I mean it.”
“I love you too.” Harry says without a second thought before placing his wet lips on hers. It's not like they hadn't said I love you to each other when they were younger, but adult I love you's are different, stronger, more meaningful. Y/N grins, nudging her nose against his cheek and pecking his lips.
“We should do something about the stickiness, shouldn't we?” Harry says running his finger on the inside of her thigh. Y/N chuckles as she nods her head in agreement, slightly ashamed but just couldn't care less right now. She's happy, Harry's happy and that's all that matters.
Harry picks her up from the bed again, gaining another squeal as he carries her to the bathroom. They hop in the shower and their touches remain gentle. Just soft kisses and long glances. Once they're all washed up, they slide back between the sheets in an after-sex, shower-fresh bliss.
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Ok so full disclosure, I don't really listen to Yongguk's solos that much. I've heard (I think) every song he performed tonight at least once BUT I was not super familiar with any one song. I meant to listen to the setlist but this week was busy and I didn't get around to it.
So why did I go? Because I never got the opportunity to see B.A.P but Yongguk was always my bias so I wanted to at least go see him. Also, I did a review on the "3" EP and it wasn't bad.
Long story short, I had a GREAT time. Even without knowing pretty much ANY of the words! He's such a great performer and the songs are GREAT live. His fanservice is next level too! I think the only person whose fanservice matches his is Changjo from Teen Top (and probably iKon cause they be in the crowd hugging people and stuff). I'm definitely gonna be listening to those songs a lot more now.
I cried during "I Remember" I don't even know for sure why. I never really cared for that song too much back in the days. But I guess hearing Daehyun (my other bias in B.A.P; I guess it's like "main" and "lead" bias but idk which guy gets which label LOL) and it just overall being a throwback to B.A.P.
Then the above picture. he was so adorable. He gave me a side hug for the picture but when he was taking it, he accidentally turned the camera off and I had to set it back up so I got some extra hugging time LOL. He said, "Thanks for coming, have a great night". My plan was initially to tell him "You're so handsome. Thanks for coming" but I never got to say it cause I guess I got too nervous once I got in front of him LOL. Anyway, after the picture, I was so giddy and smiling so I kinda turned my head away from the people in line still cause it was kinda embarrassing LOL but I'm sure they saw me. While in line everybody was basically watching the people who just went to see their reactions. One person was crying when they walked back! Awww!
Anyway, it was a good day! I honestly regretted buying the tickets. I was REALLY tired because I got like one hour of sleep the night before and work has been so busy this month so I've been kinda burnt out and drained. I kinda wanted to just stay home. However, I'm SOOOO glad I went! I think I would have regretted missing him since I also regretted missing B.A.P. This was such a good experience!
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sunnibits · 3 months
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just out of curiosity bc I’m having war flashbacks today /j
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talentforlying · 2 months
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father grimaldi: forgive me, lord, for i have sinned. constantine: — understatement of the bloody century, that is. father grimaldi: the chapel is closed to the public! who are you? how did you get in here . . .? constantine: did you know vatican city has the highest per-capita crime rate of any nation state in the world? i'd have thought a touch of breaking and entering's pretty much par for the course around here.
so #1, an undeniable slay.
#2, how long do we think he was sitting in the confessional booth waiting for the guy to wake up from ellie's fake vision quest. like an hour? checking his light, practicing his Big Reveal Pose TM? he probably brought a book with him and just shoved it underneath the seat cushion when it was time to show off.
#3, knowing how intensely he studied & continues to study in order to teach himself magic at such an absurdly advanced level without any teachers to formally guide him? and how that level of dedication would absolutely carry over into researching a mark / making sure he had every corner of a confidence scheme nailed down pat? i like to imagine that the day before this meeting was spent with his severely under-caffeinated ass parked at a public library computer, squinting at articles for 'most important things to know about vatican city before you travel' or 'top 10 little-known facts about vatican city' and using the back of his boarding pass to take notes on what would be the best throwaway line to blow off all the usual questions with.
also, he probably woke up still in his travel clothes less than two hours before this scene and had to hustle to get suited up in time for his Dramatic Apparition. the demon blood was boiling so bad in that chapel that it was giving him a killer migraine. he didn't get breakfast so his stomach was growling the ENTIRE time. but all that meant was he had plenty of room to eat UP the runway and that's EXACTLY what the fuck he did.i'm
#( ooc. ) OUT OF CIGS.#always torn in half between 'john is a freaky little weirdo who just Knows Things and Picks Up Vibes and it usually works for him'#and 'john is the most Normal Dude in the whole london occult scene he just works w/ magic like a grad student prepping for finals week'#and you know what? the answer is always 'Both. Both is good.'#also on the one hand i'm truly obsessed with the idea of john just?? Always having a bunch of weird trivia available w/ his eidetic memory#like he read about the apostolic palace once in a book when he was with the peace convoy and his brain latched onto it forever#and it just Happens to become convenient later on and this happens VERY often and no one ever really knows how he does it#but there is a real real charm in considering that he's still Just A Guy beneath all the layers of false confidence and mysticism#still someone who had to work to get to where he is now and who will always have to work to Maintain as well#i like the mental image of him pacing around his temporary digs with index cards and drilling all the necessary details for the scam#or him and ellie getting blasted the night before and dramatically playing out their Big Final Confrontation to iron out all the beats#you just Know they were laughing til they cried workshopping shit like 'MY OLD ADVERSARY! WE MEET AGAIN!' and 'DO YOUR WORST HELLSPAWN!'#still trying to keep straight faces the day of the fake fight while drastically improvising to try and throw each other off their game#idk!!! i always enjoy the Strange and Off-Putting things about him but all of the Really Really Human stuff is also just. so so precious#we always get to see The Myth The Legend as shaped by the errors of The Man. but especially in later years actually SEEING The Man gets rar#all this to say that for every perfectly executed and properly horrifying loom out of the shadows with a glimmer of his freaky glowing eyes#there is always at LEAST half an hour or more practicing angles + expressions + mood lighting in the mirror going on behind the scenes#and that is very very special to me!!!!#( headcanons. ) I'M JUST LIKE THE BASTARDS I'VE HATED ALL ME LIFE.#( visage. ) AND I'M A BASTARD.#sched.
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tojipure · 3 months
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Haunted
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Toji cannot move on, until he realized too late.
Warnings: Angst, slightest fluff (reader and baby 'gumi moment)
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You were just a girl, standing in front of a man, asking him to love you.
How hard was that for him? Yes, he wasn’t good with his words but he wasn’t good at anything else either. He was just there.
Maybe because the woman he truly loved—he was still mourning over her. His sad eyes every time he watched an old couple dance together, wishing he had been doing that but with her. The cute babies babble with their mothers as Megumi babbles with his father, how he wished his wife was still here instead of you. He never said it, but that’s what it felt like. 
And perhaps that's what it was. 
Sometimes he curses himself out when he accidentally calls you his wife's name. During intimate times only. You tried—trying to keep the emotions in as if it wasn’t breaking every part of you, was the hardest part. “Look he’s walking...” You smiled at the dark haired baby who was walking towards you. Toji smiled, making sure he’d record every second of it; deep down he wished his wife was the one the baby was walking towards instead of you.
And it was wrong—so wrong. 
“This relationship, I’m with you but Toji—Toji this is the loneliest I’ve ever felt.” You whispered while he ate his leftovers, his brows still furrowed from the argument occurring earlier. Having Toji work from 9–5 wasn’t the best but good thing he had you, helping him out with so much. Picking up groceries, picking up his lovely son—until you mentioned that one of his teachers mistaken you as his biological mother. That right there was enough to make Toji angry for weeks at least.
But not this time.
He stopped chewing on his food after you spoke, waiting for more of an explanation. Which you figured he needed, “I don’t think you’re in love with me–” 
“I like you [name], a lot.” He cleared his throat. He leaned back on his chair as his arms crossed waiting for you to continue the sentence he interrupted. 
Right, he liked you a lot. These three rough years you’ve been dating Toji—that particular l word was never uttered once, not even if he was drunk, or having a special moment with you. You huffed trying to find the right words for Toji to understand. That was until little Megumi started crying from his room. “I’ll try to put him back to sleep, finish eating.” He watched as your fragile little body sulked its way to Megumi’s room.
He knew this was gonna happen, he knew you were bound to leave him sooner or later. 
You smiled as you opened the door to see the little Megumi standing on top of his little bed. His hands wiping his tears as he ran towards you, his arms now wrapping around your legs. “Sleep with mama and papa.” He cried out as you leaned down to pick up the little boy. “[name] and papa, not mama okay?” You corrected him, if Toji were to find out that he had been calling you that, then that argument would’ve climaxed.
The little boy nodded, his tears now gone as you swayed him around. “Sleep with you.” He mumbled, leaning his head on your shoulder as he played with a strand of your hair. “Just for tonight.” You whispered, watching Megumi pick up his head and smile. Content with your answer. 
Toji’s heart could just swell at the sight. You treated his son as if he was your own and nothing looked so much better right now, except for the fact that he wished it was his wife.
Megumi was now soundly sleeping between you and Toji, “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” His eyes shut tightly hearing those piercing words leave your mouth. It hurt when his wife left him, but this hurt was different—different because he knew it was coming yet he didn’t want to do anything about it. 
“I’m sorry—”
“You don’t need to be the one apologizing.” He watched your soft gaze stare at completely nothing. He was confused, this was his fault. He never treated you how you needed deserved to be treated. “It was my fault for throwing myself at a man who simply was not ready.”
The next morning was silent—baby ‘gumi was confused at the saddened look on your face. Constantly walking up to you asking if you were okay. He was still just a baby, yet he read the room so well. “I’m sure we can work this out—” Toji now sitting next to you on the couch, some cartoon playing in the back as Megumi’s little head sat on your lap. “You’re not ready, Toji.” You nodded, eyes still glued on the tv as if it was meant for you and not the little Megumi. 
“And how are you so sure—”
“Tell me you love me then.” Your eyes are now fixed on Toji’s. It was hard, he felt as if his mouth had been glued shut. You sigh, bringing your gaze back to the tv, “I love you—but it’s hard when it’s one sided Toji.” 
It hurt much more, seeing you drive away as the clueless Megumi waved you out. Poor thing thinks you’re simply going to the store. The house that once felt like home was so dull now. Toji sat little ‘gumi down on the couch. 
His constant, “mama?” or “[name]?” while he kept his gaze on the door every so often. Nothing prepared Toji for this. Megumi cried that he wanted to sleep with his mama and papa, his heart swelled knowing that he had been talking about you.
You were gone, just like his wife. But it hurt—it hurt so much more knowing that you’re alive trying your best to…move on. He stayed up late that same night, stumbling upon a video from two years ago. When Megumi first learned how to walk. You and Toji had just started dating but the look of happiness plastered your face as you watched the little baby walking. 
That was one thing Toji never forgot about, how much you loved kids. Telling him how once you had kids of your own you would finally be able to live in peace. How he heard of it less and less as the years went on, he wonders if you still think that.
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yandere-daydreams · 7 months
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tw - kidnapping, manipulation, mentions of physical abuse, and prolonged imprisonment.
You learn quickly that Nanami is significantly more bearable with he's playing house.
It should've been more obvious, in retrospect. If you hadn't been so terrified, so desperate not to fall into your captor's domestic delusions, you might've been more able to catch on more quickly, to realize how much softer he was when you treated him like a loving husband, rather than an obsessive stalker who had the nerve to roll his eyes when you asked if he had anything for you to wear that didn't involve bows and frills. You were slow on the uptake, but then again, he wasn't the kind of man who wore his heart on his sleeve.
His reactions weren't exactly more pronounced when your aggression started to fade, when you realized that he could barely take care of himself, let alone another person. You were skittish, eager to get in and out of the kitchen before he came home, and he was stoic, offering little more than a nod of his head and a muttered 'thank you' when he came home to find a bare-bones meal on the table or his constantly neglected apartment just a little cleaner. It took weeks for him to come to you directly; his suit jacket in one hand and spare button in the other. It should've only taken a minute to mend, but your hands shook so badly that it'd ended up taking ten. He watched over your shoulder all the while - smiling so softly, you'd been able to convince yourself that it was just your imagination.
You pretended that you didn't mind being with him, that the idea of being his stay-at-home hostage didn't make your skin crawl, and in exchange, he let you watch an hour of T.V. once a week, told you how your family and friends were dealing with your sudden disappearance. It wasn't a fair trade, but it was a trade - his domestic bliss for a handful of basic privileges, his happiness for the illusion of your freedom. When you can build up the courage, when you've recovered (or, recovered as much as you can, anyway) from the last time he bent you over his knee, you press for more. And sometimes, it works.
"I missed you," he mumbles, burying his face in the crook of your neck. His strong arms are wrapped around your waist, his posture hunched to accommodate the disparity between your heights, and you can feel warm breath on your skin, his deep voice reverberating against your throat.
"Welcome home," you say, because he doesn't like it when you lie and 'I missed you too' might've been the most dishonest thing you could've said. "You should sit down. I just started on dinner, and--"
You pause, cursing under your breath. Nanami is tired enough or kind enough to take the bait. "Make me a list." He pulls you that much closer before straightening his back and kissing your cheek. "I'll run to the store. It's the least I could do, for the only person who manages to keep my head on my shoulders."
You let a second of silence lapse between you, then another. "You know," you manage, eventually, just as Nanami starts to detangle himself from you. "Most couples spend as much time together as they can."
You can practically hear his smile. "You want to go shopping with me?"
"...am I allowed to?"
"Of course." He says it like he hadn't kidnapped you. Like he hadn't kept you locked in his sterile apartment for the better part of a year. Like he hadn't taken you by the neck and promised he'd be the only man to ever touch you again every time you questioned his intentions.
There's another kiss, this one to the corner of your jaw. Just when you think your heart might beat out of your chest, he adds, "As soon as hell freezes over and curses go extinct, I'll take you wherever you want."
You might've cried, if you didn't know how much he loved wiping away your tears.
Sometimes, it works.
Most of the time, though, he chooses to remind you whose game you're playing.
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gutsby · 1 month
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Benign
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Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader
Summary: Marrying a former Soviet sleeper agent was your first mistake. Letting curiosity get the better of you and saying his trigger words before sex was your second.
Warnings: 18+. DUBCON - Bucky is partly brainwashed; R is reluctant at first. Reliving past trauma (i.e., grief, prior HYDRA captivity). Rough, unprotected p-in-v.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
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Marrying into the mob meant one of two things: turning a blind eye to your husband’s crimes or taking them up as your own. Most of the women who had gone before you chose the former, leading lives of willful ignorance while their spouses cut deals, shed blood, stole guns, and submitted only to the laws of secrecy and discretion.
You, unlike those wives, hadn’t had the luxury of choice.
Your life, unlike theirs, had been sold to a man you didn’t know, by a father you couldn’t stand, and now your dad was dead, and this man—your husband—was to blame.
The least Bucky could do was fuck you hard to say sorry.
But no, ever since the Winter Soldier had reared its ugly head that dreadful night in Madripoor two weeks prior, your husband hadn’t laid one finger on your body that was not soft, sweet, and sickeningly apologetic to you. He seemed almost scared to initiate sex, and when he did, couldn’t help but act like a touch might break you.
After all, one almost had. Those hands he’d hear you beg and plead to put on you now were the very same ones he’d used to kill dozens, if not hundreds, including blood of your own blood. To the world, Bucky’s reputation commanded fear. To his wife, now, he felt duly obliged to prove he was more—that you were safe with him, not from him. He’d carted you off to every GP, hematologist, nutritionist, and grief specialist lauded among Brooklyn’s elite to make that happen. Fast. Frankly, these days, the thought of fucking was the furthest thing from his mind.
Unbeknownst to Bucky, somewhere along the spectrum of grief, you’d already come to settle comfortably at the ‘Need-to-be-fucked-until-I-can-no-longer-think-or-feel’ phase, and every bone in your body was crying out for respite in the form of ruthless, mind-numbing sex. It didn’t make sense. You hardly knew what to do with it. You should have lashed out, shut down, cried rivers and lakes of tears for that integral part of family that had been lost, but for whatever reason, you had to go numb.
You wanted to do something really, really fucking dumb.
Remorseful as he was, Bucky and his explanations for who or what the Winter Soldier was had been sparse. He’d told you that he had once been held in captivity by HYDRA, had his brain re-wired some way to make him a merciless Soviet sleeper agent, and that the night in Madripoor was the first in ages he had been ‘activated.’ How did activation happen? Of course, he wouldn’t tell.
But Steve would.
Steve had told you everything you wanted to know about your soldat, describing in painstaking detail how he worked, trained, operated, and could be called to action. You were almost certain Rogers had said it all as a way to assure you that it wasn’t Bucky who’d killed your father—it was someone inside him. You were more than positive Steve had never intended for you to use his intel like this.
You hadn’t believed him. Couldn’t believe him. How the fuck could someone sever all ties to their conscious mind and just transform anew into a killer? You got to be hell-bent on knowing for certain whether it’d been Bucky or him, it, whatever the hell the Winter Solider was, and on knowing it now. If your husband was faking it all and simply using this persona to justify the killing, that would be it. Trust gone, marriage over. If he wasn’t, well…you hadn’t gotten that far into your own line of thinking.
“Tell me what you want, doll,” Bucky said, pulling you back to the present.
He shifted gently against you, cotton trousers raising the friction a little as he slotted between your legs. He was still dressed head-to-toe from his meeting that morning.
“I want you to fuck me. Make me cum. Please.”
You were bare, save for one small scrap of linen and lace that somehow passed as a nightie. Your gaze was soft.
Bucky didn’t want to say no, but he also felt too guilty to say yes. The way you were watching him now, eyes so helpless and pleading, body writhing for contact, he knew you didn’t want his touch so much as needed it. Desperately. Couldn’t bear to be burdened with grief so you brushed it aside, to the furthest recesses of your mind until all that was left was desire. Starvation, really.
He could satiate you for now, but that hunger might not ever leave. The corners of his lips twitched into a frown.
“Gentle?” he mumbled.
“Rough,” you countered.
“Baby—”
“I really don’t need another fucking lecture on death, Bucky. I know I’m not myself right now, but I can still make these decisions, okay? Don’t talk to me like I can’t.”
Anger flashed in your eyes for a second, then indignation, then nothing. Without much energy left, you pushed him away. Flopped back on the bed and, seeming to sink into yourself, heaved a low, feeble sigh.
“I know. Hey,” Bucky leaned over to press a touch to your tummy, and it made you want to hurl, “I’m sorry.”
You turned onto your side.
“You still don’t remember what happened?”
The question came suddenly, almost from somewhere outside your body, it seemed. For the hundredth time.
“No,” Bucky answered, for what felt like the thousandth.
“This Winter Soldier—”
“He isn’t me.”
“You didn’t know?”
“Couldn’t know. Wasn’t…programmed for it.”
Bucky was watching you now, eyes as contrite as they’d ever been while you rehashed this subject to the brink of tears. He never could stay composed when he saw you cry.
“Baby…” he started, arms reaching out for you.
Eyes still filling with tears, you shook your head and swatted him off. You sat up, and your brows pinched together in a look he couldn’t read. Contemplating.
At last, you made up your mind.
You would try something new—and really, really stupid:
“Zhelaniye.”
“What?”
Bucky’s own expression contorted with uncertainty.
“—semnadtsat, rzhaviy, rasvet—”
He heard that. He immediately wished he hadn’t.
“Wait—”
You were curious. You had no idea what you were doing.
“Baby, baby, stop—”
“—pech, devyat—”
You were speaking so fast, surely it wouldn’t work like that. Either way, he had to stop you. He seized your arms, giving a sharp, deliberate shake, pupils blown to the size of saucers in his eyes. There wasn’t much time.
“Don’t—”
“—adin—”
No time at all.
“—dothisdon’tfuckingdothishoneyplease.”
Losing himself already. Feeling it stir inside his mind.
“—dobroserdechniy—”
‘Kind-hearted.’ ‘Benign’. You truly had no clue what these words were liable to do, much less what they meant.
Having enunciated this last part, you swallowed. Took the tip of your tongue and rolled it left-to-right across the backs of your teeth, waiting for your speech to take effect like some magical performance before your eyes.
It hadn’t, it seemed. You blinked. He blinked. You sat in a protracted silence for what seemed like seventeen years, and presently, your stomach began to churn. Nothing happened—you’d been right about this fuckery all along.
Then you remembered one last word of the sequence.
Faintly, you said:
“Soldat.”
The man above you straightened. Sitting. Stiff. Still perched by your legs at a comfortable distance but regarding you now with a pointed stare. Expectancy made manifest in a simple, sharp glare from his eyes to yours.
“...Bucky?”
The look on his face grew even harder. For a time, he persisted in that strange and silent grimace, and just when you started to suspect he was faking this whole demeanor of deadened stoicism, you heard a voice. Clawing out of his throat but sounding nothing like him:
“Who the hell is Bucky?”
The words drove a fear to the greatest depths of your bones, and you hardly knew why. You stared back at the handsome, barren man still watching you with severity, and you couldn’t seem to find your husband anywhere.
“James?” You weren’t sure why you tried his name again. You just didn’t know what else to say.
The scowl seeped into his mouth, and he frowned.
“James,” he repeated, like the word was foreign to him.
You found yourself shuffling back on the bed just then—to what, you didn’t know. You just felt a gnawing need to put some space between you and this person, this glowering face, however you could. When he grabbed your ankle, you let out a startled sound, and when he followed you up on the bed, you did more than just whimper; you lifted your leg to knee him directly in the stomach. He caught it.
Then he stared again, expression bloodless and wan.
“You’re scaring me, Bucky.” Your voice trembled as you tried to free your leg from his fist—grip unusually strong.
The man paused another moment, if only to soak in your words and let his gaze trail over your face. Your exertions did not register. And, for the very first time, you felt as though you were something more like a plaything in your husband’s eyes—not a full-fledged human being but a system to be gamed. The feeling was so unsettling that you had to turn away.
Or try to, anyway.
Craning your neck just far enough to spy your phone on the nightstand, your first thought was Steve; he would know what to do. But before you could even think to twist and lift your body in that direction, you felt a hand yank you to the bed, flat on your back. You looked up at Bucky and found yourself caged between two arms. He lowered himself to his elbows, shifted his weight to one side, and seemed not to notice your movements at all when you tried to slide away. The man just splayed his hand across your stomach and pressed it firmly. Stay.
You weren’t one to shy away from a challenge—or keep hope alive against the odds. You put your hand over his.
“James—”
“Zhena.”
The abruptness of Bucky’s word stole the rest of yours. You cocked a brow and followed his gaze to your hand.
To the gaps between your fingers, then the touch that fanned across them to settle on one digit in particular.
Bucky thumbed at the diamond and smiled. He smiled.
“Zhena,” he repeated.
You blinked.
“I— you...gave me that, Bucky. You did.”
He hummed in acknowledgment.
Bucky stared at the ring for what could’ve been five seconds or several years, and then he did something unexpected. He shifted his touch to the bodice of your dress—again, if you could even call it that—and he began to tug at the satin bow situated between your breasts.
Of course, this nightie being designed for honeymoons and supremely easy access, it didn’t take much effort at all for the folds of your dress to come apart. Your breasts spilled out of the fabric without so much as a hint of protest, your torso was quick to become fully exposed, and suddenly, shortly, your hands were fumbling at your chest in an effort to regain some smidgen of modesty. Your husband just shook his head, following your hands.
“Moya zhena,” he said, a touch more emphasis and fervor to the first of the two words.
Now it was you who was shaking your head. Trying to pry his touch away as you slid up the bed. When he followed, you saw the icy expression had been supplanted by intrigue and, though you still felt ill at ease, you couldn’t deny you were curious to know what he was thinking. Who was thinking it? Soft, plush lips swiftly replaced his hands, and before you even knew what he was doing, Bucky, or someone, was latching onto your left breast. Using teeth to graze the hardened nub and send a ripple of thick, guilty pleasure coursing through you.
You whimpered. Bucky groaned.
Your fingers slotted through his hair with every intention of pushing him away, but when you tried, he just flicked his tongue and made another delicious sound against you.
You pushed with even more force, and he groaned again.
Not Bucky, not Bucky, not him, you have to—
“Stop!” you cried.
A set of soft, warm baby blues darted up to meet you.
Some flicker of recognition seemed to cross them, too.
“Honey?”
You almost lurched toward the sound. It was Bucky.
Suddenly, your hands were making fists in the collar of his crisp white button-up, and you were trying to yank him up. You murmured his name in disbelief, relief, and gathered him up in your arms to pull him in for a kiss.
The lips that met you were soft for a moment—just one.
Then the teeth reappeared. Harsh, jarring, biting. You jerked back at the sensation, and when you found his face again, it seemed your husband was lost to you all over. The eyes were attentive still—nowhere near as cold and aloof as they had been before—but they did not radiate the same warmth and admiration that Bucky’s always did. You almost couldn’t believe what you were seeing. He was gone, just like that, and there was nothing you could do to stop it from happening.
A broad palm cupped your cheek to bring you in for another kiss, and you weren’t sure if you should indulge. It didn’t seem you had much choice anyway, because the lips that were seeking yours were hungry. Starved. Searing into your mouth with a force you couldn’t refuse.
But something inside you wanted to find Bucky again.
Somewhere inside this stranger was lying dormant a trace of your husband; you’d seen it yourself, if only for a second. It made you curious. Where had he gone? What did he do when forced to retreat into this strange, preprogrammed being, and how could you get him back?
“Bucky,” you mumbled, more of a plea than a moan.
You were kissed harder than you had been in a long time. You didn’t have to think, or do, or breathe one puff of air that this man didn’t account for. His tongue wedged a gaping space in your wet, welcoming mouth for him to fill, and somehow, you didn’t feel the urge to protest. A familiarity in the way he kissed almost put you at ease, and when his body lifted slightly, yours lifted with it.
Before long, Bucky was sitting. Kneeling between your legs with an eye to your soft, shaking torso. You’d barely even come to notice just how hard you were breathing until you felt a palm on your stomach again. There was an oddly calming insinuation in that one simple touch.
And again, he smiled. Brighter than before.
“Nashe?” He sounded eager as he said it.
You peered up at him and raised an eyebrow in question. Perhaps you should’ve felt more exposed; after all, you were sitting half-naked with your husband’s assassin alter ego stroking your stomach and beaming over you, eyeing you expectantly, and you didn’t know what to say. Apart from the short set of words Steve had taught you, you were totally clueless to Russian, and you weren’t quite sure you were in a place to ask Bucky to translate.
When it seemed words might never come, the gleaming teeth above you were shrouded in a tighter, close-lipped smile, and Bucky nodded. Appearing to understand. Instead of forcing a response from you, he just let his hand migrate down your belly, fingers tracing the skin, then settle comfortably—momentarily—at the crest of your pubic bone. Then he pressed the heel of his palm into the place residing right below it, and without really meaning to, you moaned. A quiet maelstrom of pleasure circled low in your abdomen, threatening to draw noises from your throat you weren’t planning to make with every gentle gyration of Bucky’s lower hand.
You had to purse your lips to contain the sounds.
Again, he nodded.
“It’s okay,” he said, so quiet he almost couldn’t be heard.
He let the friction continue for a while like that: just palming you, watching you react to the simplest of motions against your swollen, aching clit and try not to writhe. At length, you squirmed a little bit. Bucky seemed to want to wait for something to happen, and when you bucked your hips, a look in his eye said that was enough.
He lowered himself between your legs. Shoulders bumping your thighs as he spread them apart, chest rising and falling in measured breaths, and lips smiling all the while. You sucked in a breath when his face came to rest just a few inches shy of your bare, aching warmth.
“Bucky?”
The man looked up at you and blinked.
“Yeah, honey?”
One thumb traced over the seam of your cunt, and your back nearly arched off the bed. There he was, again, gaze safe and secure to yours and hands moving in tandem as they always would. His tongue calmly followed suit. When you fisted his hair, he blinked once more and then directed his attention back to your wet, warm, velvety folds with a pointed look and a purpose.
The sound that escaped you next could hardly be classed as anything less than a scream, but the soft and unperturbed demeanor of the man between your legs showed he hadn’t noticed at all. He just sucked diligently—damn near dutifully—on your clit with a vigor you’d never felt, and when you yanked at his hair, he hummed.
It was like his lips had been trained for perfect suction; that was how well and thoroughly he descended upon your swollen little bud. An airtight kiss and a quick flick of his tongue, paired with his hot and heavy breaths fanning over your cunt, sent your senses into overdrive. Your toes curled inward, your throat let loose a gasp, and without fully realizing it, your walls were clamping down, pulsing and leaking out desire for more of this touch.
Then, without warning, Bucky brought a hand to the throbbing and slick cunt that was presently clenching around nothing, and he fed it two fingers. So forceful and deep he nearly buried his knuckles right along with them. Then he started scissoring those two fingers, sharply.
“Open, milaya,” he said. Again, it wasn’t entirely Bucky.
But you felt a faint remembrance there. You didn’t want him to stop. Maybe you were led astray by the gentle laps of his tongue or the prodding of his fingertips, or perhaps there was something stubbornly familiar about the way he was touching you now. You couldn’t tell.
All you knew was that both of your hands were holding tight to his head and begging him, wordlessly, for more.
Your moans rang all the way through the bedroom in your new, far-too-big penthouse apartment in Brooklyn, down the hall, reverberating through every inch of the space until all that could be heard were your sounds and his and the delectable little noises of your bodies working together. Bucky hadn’t even stirred to pleasure himself.
You wanted that part to change.
With your hip pinned to the mattress and Bucky’s tongue laving over your clit in ruthlessly quick movements, you probably would’ve liked to cum all over his mouth and fingers, but you wanted to see him pleased even more.
Just when he’d worked a third finger inside you and was driving you close to your peak, you pushed him away.
Bucky parted from your folds with a glistening chin and two furrowed eyebrows, clearly frustrated to have been torn from his mission before you reached completion, but you wouldn’t let that look linger for long. You used your leverage in his hair—however slight, comparatively, that grip might have been—to pull him up on the bed.
Bucky surprised you with just how swiftly he moved.
His steel-blue gaze was on yours in a second, equally penetrating and soft.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“Nothing—”
“My baby okay?”
He surprised you again; this time by how quick his demeanor was to shift the second he sensed something was wrong. Just like Bucky. It had to be him in there.
You nodded, still out of breath from the wonders he’d been working with his tongue. You squeezed his arm and tried to coax him toward you, to help him lower his body some, and when he seemed uncertain, you offered a smile. It’s okay to touch, you won’t break anything.
Bucky eyed you skeptically, but it was clear he was more wary of himself than of you. He glanced over your body, briefly to his, then slowly, apprehensively, sank down.
“Just fine,” you mumbled, hooking your legs around his back the second his chest was close enough to yours.
You felt an uptick in his heartbeat when your heels dug a little more firmly into the waistband of his pants. While your hands started working their way toward the front of that fabric, wedging clumsily between your bodies, his gaze flitted to yours, and his brows drew even tighter together. He didn’t try to stop you, but he certainly seemed confused as to why you wanted to include him so soon. Why you cared to show concern for him at all.
You noticed that then, and in just about every moment preceding, the man was taken aback by kindness.
Whether it was pulling him closer to you, tugging his pants down with a tender touch, running your fingers across the bulge in his boxers, or simply nodding your head and letting him know it was okay to touch you back, Bucky seemed unaccustomed to any care in this area.
When your fingers made it around his cock and started stroking him, gently, he just might’ve come apart.
His chest shuddered with the inhale of a short, strained breath, and his eyelids fluttered, as if meaning to close.
Bucky’s jaw clenched, and he started to shake his head.
“No, let me—”
“Let me,” you finished for him, wrist flicking back and forth quietly. You paused just to rub a quick touch between your folds, collect some arousal, then return to touching him when he met your eyes again and allowed you to continue. You skimmed his sensitive underside with your palm and let the warmth of him bleed into your fingertips as you worked him up to a comfortable pace.
Bucky rutted into your touch, probably harder than he meant to. Then he planted a hand beside your head and anchored his weight above you so that he was close enough to reach your lips—but he didn’t kiss you.
His expression hardened again, and he forcibly removed himself from the pulse of your fingers. He frowned.
“You want me to fuck you, no? Make you cum?”
He sounded irritated again.
Briefly, you recalled your words from earlier and nodded. It was true, you’d said it to him like that, and you’d meant it. You just couldn’t make sense of what he wanted now.
It seemed Bucky couldn’t wait to indulge you any longer. He fisted his cock in one hand, angled the head just outside of your cunt, and burst in with one thrust.
“Then let me,” he muttered, plunging down to the hilt.
The first go was rough, and the second was no kinder. Bucky’s face screwed up with indifference again, like he wanted to get something out of his brain and just do.
Like there was a task at hand that needed to be finished.
You couldn’t deny it felt fine at first. Fucking edifying after all those horrific thoughts had been eating away at your mind and rousing your own hunger for numbness. The drive of Bucky’s thick girth in and out, in and out repeatedly was no doubt capable of rendering you dumb. But being slammed into and taken so roughly was only good for you when you knew he was feeling good too.
This Bucky was back to being entirely flinty and lifeless—practically devoid of all emotion as he railed into you.
The back of your head was forced into the pillow with the weight of each thrust and Bucky’s thumb pushing into your chin—‘Better, milaya? Is this better for you?’—and frankly, you wanted to push him back and ask the same.
But you couldn’t. The pace he’d set was suffocating, and the stretch of his cock inside you was unusually tough.
Instead, you sank your nails into his arm and mumbled:
“Bucky.”
The man’s thrusts were both stabbing and rhythmic, sending a welt of pleasure blossoming up in your chest. You tried again:
“Bucky.”
He blinked.
And slowed.
“Bucky,” he mumbled back.
Seemingly mindless and mechanical, he snaked a hand behind your head to lift your face and tilt it toward the sight below: his cock splitting you open before him, parting your insides with an easy, welcome glide through the slick of your folds. You watched as your arousal enveloped him fully. Not a single inch of his rock-hard, throbbing shaft was spared; even his balls were soaked. They felt even heavier slapping your ass with each thrust.
“You remember?” you asked, hating how small you sounded.
The man’s nostrils flared, but he gave a curt nod. Expression taut and vigilant, as though anticipating something going wrong at any second. Still, he nodded.
“Years,” he answered.
“Years?”
Since he’d done this? Felt good? Become this way?
No, Bucky was activated in Madripoor just weeks ago. He didn’t look like he was ready to indulge in any ‘feel-good’ pleasure, and you weren’t sure when he’d last been with anyone else before you. Years could mean anything.
You chanced a few soft fingertips up to his cheeks, cupping either side of his clean-shaven face in an effort to anchor you both to one place. The pit of your stomach was reeling with warmth, and friction, and fullness. It took everything in you just to pull him in for a quick, grounding kiss before the feeling gave way to even more.
Bucky’s teeth nicked your bottom lip. He flinched back.
You ignored the sting and repeated his name, murmuring it carefully up to the seal of his mouth as if requesting entry with that word alone.
It seemed to work. Bucky kissed you back with a gentle, albeit guarded, sort of tenderness that made him soften. His thrusts weren’t as rough and punishing as they were before. The dull, throbbing ache between your legs transformed into something sweeter, and your body no longer had to brace itself against strokes that, to you, were nearly bruising and, to Bucky, were just necessary.
For once, your husband let out a soft grunt of pleasure.
“They never let us,” Bucky said as his teeth grit together, “It’s been years.”
“Since what?”
The face above you tempered more—this time with a trace of sadness behind it. He continued to rut into you, but now his thrusts were sloppy, and it seemed as though he were battling against his own pleasure with every motion. He lowered one hand between your legs and began to thumb at your clit, gaze torn from yours.
“Close now?” he muttered.
Ignoring the question you’d asked.
“Years since what?” you pressed anyway. The tiny ripples preceding bliss had already begun to stir inside you, maddeningly, with every flick of his thumb, but your curiosity to know the whole truth was stronger still.
Bucky’s hips were moving at a feverish pace now; his free hand made a fist in the sheets beside your head, and his chest heaved with a series of short, ragged breaths that were no doubt meant to mask his moans as well. Notwithstanding the burn you felt between your legs—he really was much rougher and stronger now, you saw—you cupped his cheek again to tilt his face toward yours.
What you saw made your stomach drop.
Your heart clenched like a fist within the confines of your ribcage, and there it was—that terrible ache you felt each time you saw something awful materialize before you.
Bucky’s eyes were wet with tears. He wouldn’t blink.
He tilted his head into your touch, as if for support, but really, the weight of it signaled to you that he just wanted to feel you. Be assured that you were there. His big, broad arms seemed suddenly unable to hold his weight, and then he sank into your frame with a grunt and another stuttered breath. Like he was ready to collapse.
“Don’t leave again,” he said quietly.
The pain in your chest elevated, in bloom.
“Bucky I didn’t— wasn’t—” you started to say.
The friction between your bodies was almost too much to bear. You couldn’t be sure if you were talking to your husband, soldat, or some strange, inconceivable mixture of the two, but you could tell that this one was desperate.
Pleading.
“I can’t lose you again.”
The head of his cock grazed your most sensitive spot inside, and a whine seeped out through your teeth. Bucky’s whole body was blanketing yours, torso flush with your front and hips working an erratic cadence as he got a glimpse of release himself. He groaned out in pleasure and begged you to stay. You promised that you would. Your legs were still wound around his sides, but both of your bodies were slick with a sheen of sweat; it was hard to hang on. Bucky’s hair was wild and pushed back from his face, but his eyes were clear when they finally met yours, and you heard him mumble again, ‘Please stay.’
You didn’t know what else to say but okay, baby, I will.
You swore you would stay, and in between oaths, your mouth was consumed by a barrage of kisses—Bucky got to feast with a full set of teeth again, primal as ever—and then your climax hit. Euphoria washed over you whole with a force you weren’t expecting to feel, and you couldn’t help but cry out and whine as waves of pleasure coursed straight from the innermost depths of your core.
Bucky’s hips collided with yours in two more stuttered thrusts, and when he bottomed out at the last, you felt a heavy spurt of warmth. A groan coiling out of his chest. Muscles growing lax and two sturdy arms coming to bracket your head as your husband’s whole body weight went folding into yours. You kissed some more, in between frenzied intakes of breaths and steadying moments where you were simply trying to ground your body and get your heart to slow down to a normal rate.
You held each other in silence for a while. Bucky’s head fell next to yours on the pillow when the last of his spend had been emptied, but otherwise, he didn’t stir. At some point, his hands slid behind your back, and the second he hugged you to him, you felt secure in that embrace.
You were probably as far as you’d ever been from understanding who the fuck your husband was, but all it seemed you were capable of feeling for now was pity.
Pity for the years he’d lost to captivity; pity for what was little more than mere existence under HYDRA’s thumb; pity for all the things you still didn’t know about his past.
You held Bucky tighter, and, flooded with this strange, grating emotion and an overwhelming sense of powerlessness, you wished you could protect him, too.
“James?” you mumbled into his hair.
Bucky didn’t respond.
You squeezed his shoulder. Still nothing.
Against your better judgment, you tried to shift yourself underneath his body. You figured you wouldn’t make it far at all, but at least he would be aware that you were trying to get up. Maybe even start to move with you.
He didn’t.
It took everything in you just to wedge an elbow back, struggle to prop yourself up against his weight, and when you were about to let out a huff of an exasperated laugh and tell him, Bucky, you’re crushing me, honey, could you please ease up a little, your request was answered before the words could even leave your mouth.
At the sound of two new muffled voices carrying up from the living room and what appeared to be noises from shuffling feet, Bucky rose straight from the bed, off you.
Your gaze trailed his to the door, and you reached for him.
“Baby, it’s just—”
Bucky was back on his feet. Yanking his boxers and pants up his legs and buckling his belt in no time at all.
The movers. It’s just the movers bringing in furniture—
You moved your hand closer to your husband in the hopes of stalling his movements for half a second, but then a set of ruthless blue eyes had you pinned, quick:
“Stay.”
Your outstretched arm was taken up in a much stronger, stiffer one, and you were suddenly pulled over to Bucky.
But you knew from the eyes it wasn’t him at all.
And you weren’t so much being tugged toward him as you were being hauled to the floor. Thrown on your knees beside the bed, next to Bucky. He was about to leave.
Without thinking, you reached for one of the legs of his trousers and sank your nails into the fabric to hold him in place, to tell him again that there was nothing to see out there but the people you knew, no threat outside at all. But Bucky was deaf to your pleas, it seemed. He shrugged you off easily and made a move for his gun, expression blank, stolid, calm, hardened. Decided.
You tried to rise to your feet but were stopped.
“STAY,” Bucky boomed again, this time an order that he didn’t even deign to complete with a look your way.
If he had—if he even possessed the ability to consider anything but the immediate task at hand—he would’ve seen his own hand knock you to the floor to keep you from standing. Might’ve caught a glimpse of the instant your head struck the edge of the nightstand before you hit the ground. Could’ve even made out the first traces of blood that came trickling out from above your temple. Would’ve seen you cower back, viscerally, out of fear.
But holding the side of your head and watching him leave, grim realization twisted at the pit of your stomach, and you knew the man wouldn’t have stopped if he had.
If your soldat’s objective was to protect you from any harm lurking outside that door, real or illusory, nothing you were capable of doing now could stop that. At expense to yourself, at expense to him, at expense to whatever lives stood between the Winter Soldier and that unwavering, hardwired goal, he still would not ever stop.
Thinking of new, innocent lives in the balance, now, you scrambled for your phone the next second to call Steve.
You tried him once. Twice. A third time crawling on your knees, then standing, then staggering over to the door and pulling the phone from your ear just to send a string of texts to your friend while the thing continued to ring.
SOS
Need help
Pick up please
Bucky’s stuck and he’s
About to hurt people here
A crash sounded outside. You hurried to the door. Your hand closed around the knob and tried to turn it. The handle turned freely, but something behind it was refusing to let you leave the room. You pressed again.
“Bucky!”
Your cry was useless in the face of the barricade outside.
You pushed your shoulder and, behind it, the whole force of your weight against it anyway, trying to get out.
The line went dead. You tried again.
Now with your phone to one ear and the bedroom door taking the brunt of your hits from the other, bleeding side of your body, you scarcely heard much of anything else. The ring started. Stopped. Began again when you pressed a shaky finger to Steve’s contact name, and continued in a cycle for some time while you tried to force whatever was on the other side of the door away.
The second a voice broke through the haze of your frantic, half-crazed state of consciousness, you cried:
“STEVE!”
“Mrs. Barnes?”
You were shocked to hear a woman on the other end. Your pulse was still racing, shoulder aching from the impact of each desperate push you’d been forcing against the door, and then you stopped. Another loud something sounded down the hallway, further away, but you were too startled and unnerved to take any note of it.
You started to ask, ‘Where’s Steve?’ when the voice continued:
“This is Mrs. Barnes?”
“Yes,” you answered woodenly.
You held the phone as close to your ear as you could, but still, the woman’s words were coming in and out in bursts. You must’ve mistakenly accepted the call when trying to reach Steve—you couldn’t think right now; could barely retract the phone far enough to see a strange number displayed on the screen. You swallowed.
“—from Lenox Hill Hospital at Northwell Health—”
The high-rise medical center on the Upper East Side you’d visited that week. Bucky had wanted you tested for nutritional deficiencies and anemia, of all fucking things.
“—if you had a moment or two to chat and maybe—”
No, you needed Steve, not this outpatient courtesy call.
You would’ve liked to hang up. Should’ve hung up. In fact, your fingers were practically itching to hit the button the whole time the nurse was speaking to you, but something in you just couldn’t be persuaded to do it. It took several more seconds before your senses began to creep back, and by then, when you were about to drop the call, you heard a phrase that stopped you on a dime.
“—but the doctor advises prenatal vitamins—”
“What?” you snapped, far more harshly than you meant.
The nurse paused a beat, whether from incredulity at how rude you’d just sounded or to consider something. When she resumed, she sounded a little more guarded.
“Yes…Dr. Watkins did reach out to you about your bloodwork from your last visit, didn’t she? I thought—”
“No,” you said, rushed and painfully brusque, again. You tried to rein in your tone some before continuing, “She didn’t—didn’t reach out about anything. What vitamins?”
Another pause.
“Prenatals.”
You hated that she gave you another second to chew on that word before taking a breath and pressing on.
“I’m terribly, terribly sorry to be the one to spring that on you, Mrs. Barnes—I thought you knew…um—” The nurse was sheepish now, almost embarrassed to be speaking, “—you’re about…three weeks along in your pregnancy.”
Three weeks along.
Advised prenatal vitamins.
For the child growing inside of you.
A rivulet of blood trickled into your left eye.
Your whole body was apt to convulse, but it didn’t.
You hung up.
Taglist: (please lmk if I missed anyone! I can only tag 50 at a time so will continue in a separate post) @vicmc624 @she-could-never @mcira @kentokaze @identity2212 @unaxv, @buchi91, @ordelixx @stinkerbelle007 @opibarnes @wilsons-striped-ties @desigirlxx @pono-pura-vida @geminiflanagansblog @buggy14 @sky-full-0f-fl0wers @buckysdoll1520 @armystay89 @minimarvelingmarvel @kunakizen @ghostiebby06 @blackhawkfanatic @dameron-grantspector @sushiseoks @deansapplepie @mrsjoequinn @gyokujyn @lunaroserites @first-edition @kaybaby2494, @jaggedsi @excusememrbarnes @daisychainsoflove @mostlymarvelgirl @diannana @shawnberry @yujyujj @urmomsalex @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @athenabarnes @christinabae @sluttylittlewaistenthusiast @wintrsoldrluvr @bethbunnyy @i-heart-smut @aagn360 @dahliawolfe @fantasyfootballchampion @lilyevanstan1325 @kandis-mom @thealyrs
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missukiyo · 2 months
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— ex-husband! gojo x reader
read part 2 here
cw: angst. just pure angst. co-parenting, brief mentions of miscommunication, fluff if you squint…
a/n: repost!! this post somehow got taken down last time. first ever ‘fic’ on here so i really appreciate any form of constructive criticism.
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ex-husband! gojo who you are forced to see every fortnight due to the co-parenting arrangement set in place for your beloved 5-year-old daughter, sayuri.
ex-husband! gojo who would linger at your doorstep during drop-offs, almost as if searching for an unspoken invitation back into your life.
ex-husband! gojo who would intentionally leave a bunch of his belongings at your place, even if it was something minor like chewing gum, just to find a reason to pop by again.
ex-husband! gojo who would occasionally call you ‘princess’ or ‘baby’ out of habit, catching himself mid-sentence and playing it off casually.
ex-husband! gojo who would gently hold the hand of your precious daughter sayuri during his pickup, leading her to his car for the two weeks they’ll spend together. he would cast a glance back at you at least once, his heart beating rapidly when he caught your gaze. oh, how he wishes you could be a complete family.
ex-husband! gojo who would try to conceal the sadness in his eyes when sayuri innocently asks why mommy and daddy can’t live together. he struggles to find the right words that won’t break her little heart or reveal the depths of his own.
ex-husband! gojo who would still keep a family picture of you, him and sayuri as his wallpaper. a bittersweet reminder of what he once had before he threw it all away.
ex-husband! gojo who, during some of sayuri’s school events, finds himself involuntarily stealing glances at you.
ex-husband! gojo who clings onto the hope that one day you’ll look at him the way you used to, even if it was just for a fleeting moment, even though deep inside, he knew that the shattered fragments of your heart could never be mended
ex-husband! gojo who, on sayuri’s birthdays, buys her two gifts — one for her and one for you, unable to break the tradition of making you feel special, even if it’s just a little.
ex-husband! gojo who, on a particularly lonely night, contemplates sending you late-night text messages, only to delete them before hitting send. some bridges were just never meant to be rebuilt.
ex-husband! gojo who would endure restless hours, plagued by the thoughts of whether you would eventually move on and perhaps find a person that wasn’t him to claim as your lover. part of him yearned for you to choose him, and him only. that your heart will only have room for him and no one else. yet, despite the pain having a hold on his heart, he suppressed his selfish desires, opting for your happiness even if it lies beyond him. he hoped that, even if you decide to move on from him, that chosen person will bring you unparalleled happiness. whoever you decide to move onto would be the luckiest man, or woman ever — for satoru never judges. he hopes that he or she would hold you tenderly as you drifted to slumber, and shower your face with affectionate kisses the time the morning commenced. he wished for your heart to mend, even if it meant it would beat to a different rhythm. maybe, this was fate’s way of biting back at him.
ex-husband! gojo who wishes he would’ve treated you better during your marriage with him. he wished he would’ve listened to you more — the subtle nuances in your voice and the silent cries for understanding that went unnoticed till it was too late. he wanted to make you smile again, even if it was the last time he’d ever get the privilege to see your toothy grin.
ex-husband! gojo who dreams of a parallel universe where he had never let go. where he never signed those damned divorce papers in the first place. where the family portrait on the wall of his bedroom room tells a different story — one of enduring love.
ex-husband! gojo who is soon learns to be grateful that you two are civil towards each other, even if it was majorly due to the co-parenting arrangement. a life like this was better than a life without you at all.
and yet ex-husband! gojo would wish to restart everything if he could.
ex-husband! gojo who promises to love you properly in his next life. and the next. and the next.
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© MISSUKIYO | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work
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cassie48 · 2 months
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• 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘺 •
Dark!Paul atreides x fem pregnant reader
Pt 4
࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎
It had been almost 2 months since Paul had took over as emperor. Life was great, people treated you like a queen. You lived in a huge temple, with more handmaidens than you can count.
More importantly though, you had Paul. You no longer had to worry about him, as he was the most powerful man in the empire. Paul had been more colder, but in all honesty you didn’t care, because he never was to you.
Last night you and Paul were sat in your shared bedroom, laying together in your bed. Paul was always doting on you, and ordered doctors to check on you every day. Last week a doctor had said you should stay in bed when possible, and that the baby was due anyday.
Your head was on his chest, his hands wrapped around you. You were so tired, your body was overwhelmed with pregnancy. 𝗔𝗻𝘆𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗻𝗼𝘄, you told yourself.
“Has the doctor been kind to you?” Paul questioned.
“He’s nice, he seems to know what he’s talking about” you say, your eyes closed.
“If he’s ever 𝗡𝗼𝘁 𝗻𝗶𝗰𝗲 to you, tell me” he says placing his hand over your large bump.
You nod into his chest before dozing off to sleep for the second time that day. Paul laughed to himself, he loved seeing you like this. He was excited for his son to come into the world but, in all honesty he is gonna miss you being pregnant.
He was going to miss the sight of you full with his child, your reliance on him, your pouty lips and watery eyes when you didn’t get what you want.
He sighed kissing your head before slipping out of bed, to go back to work. He had been quite busy recently, due to only becoming emperor.
You awoke the next morning, looking to your side only to see no sight of Paul. Although you wished he was there it didn’t come as a surprise, he was so busy lately. You sat up slightly, only for your mouth to drop in shock.
You looked down to see wetness on the bed. Your water had broken.
You called your handmaidens who were in the next room. They immediately came to your side, one running off to find the doctor.
The doctor came and got you comfortable, telling you that you still had at least two hours before the baby would come.
You tried to stay calm as your contractions worsened, after an hour you started crying for Paul, the doctor said it was best to leave him at his work.
You didn’t listen and kept begging for him to be brought here. Finally one of you handmaidens agreed to tell him.
When Paul heard someone walk into his meeting room he was furious, 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘂𝗽𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝗺𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗼𝗿, he thought.
“Get out” he said coldly.
“My lord, it’s the empress, the baby is coming” she said quickly and frighteningly.
Paul’s eyes widened in shock, as he quickly left a room, not a word to the men sat all around him.
Once arriving to your room, he noticed the door closed for your privacy.
“My lord, it’s best for you to wait out here, birth is not a nice sight” A guard said.
“Are you telling me the empress is not a beautiful sight?” He growled.
“N-No my lord I simply-“ he started
“Oh I see, you do think she’s beautiful. How dare you be around her, she’s not a sight anyone like you should see. I command you open these doors” Paul yelled full of rage.
The guard quickly yanked open the doors, scared for his life. He had never seen the emperor so angry before.
Paul walked into the room full of power, shoving past people in his way.
“Paul?” A gentle voice cried out
He looked to his right to see you lying on the bed with tears in your eyes. He quickly made his way beside you.
“I’m here my love, why are you crying?” He said kissing your hand
“I thought you wouldn’t come” you said in a sad voice.
“I’d never miss the birth of our son” he said in a stern voice.
“My lady, the time has come for you to start pushing” the doctor said.
You nodded and began to push, this went on for minutes, blood sweat and tears included in the process when suddenly a high pitched cry entered the room, making everything else quiet too.
You began to cry seeing your baby, Paul sitting beside you helping you sit up a little as your baby was handed to you.
“Oh, my baby” you cried leaning on Paul’s side. You kissed your sons head, rocking him gently.
“What shall we name him Paul?” You asked with a smile.
“I think Duncan would suit him just fine” Paul said, smiling down at his little family.
You nodded, sniffling as your tears stopped eventually.
A few hours later, you had been washed and taken care of, and your room was cleaned also.
The doctor gathered his things, before turning the the couple.
“The last thing to do is for you to breastfeed my lady, let me show yo-“ the doctor began.
“Her handmaidens may show her, leave” Paul yelled in anger.
The doctor nodded before speed walking out the door. You laughed slightly.
Paul joined you in your bed once more, kissing your sons head, and then pecking your lips, the two of you had never been happier.
Man’s there it was,
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘺
࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎
I hope you all enjoyed this four part story, I have a feeling I’m not done writing for Paul….
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sluttywoozi · 2 months
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Interlude No. 6 | hjs x reader
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Interlude No. 6: Joshua has been away for three long, agonizing weeks, so really, it's not your fault that you wrap yourself around him as soon as he gets home.
Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~2.6k | Pairing: hjs x reader | Genre: smut
Warnings: bigdick!josh, softdom!josh, eye contact, fingering, piv sex, creampie, mention of bruises but it’s about the feeling not the appearance
Reader Notes: has breasts and a vagina, cries a lil bit
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It’s late when Joshua finally gets home, late enough that you should be saying early instead. 
You don’t hear the key turning in the lock from your place on the couch, but you feel his plush lips pressing against your forehead and the big, soft hand he rubs up and down your arm to wake you. 
You force one tired eye open and blink up at him blearily, a sleepy smile stretching your lips when his face comes into focus. “Hiii,” you beam, shifting onto your back and reaching out to take hold of his shirt and start tugging. 
He laughs fondly and shakes his head, letting himself be pulled on top of you on the sofa before breathing, “Baby, I told you when I’d be home. Why didn’t you sleep in the bed?”
“Feels too big when you’re gone,” you respond as you wrap your arms and legs around him like an octopus, pouting when he continues to hover above you instead of letting his body sink into yours. You know he probably wants to shower, wash the hours of travel off of him, but you’ve missed him so much and all you want is to feel him pressed against you, real and warm and here. 
His face softens and he drops down onto his elbows, his chest brushing yours with every breath, his body getting closer and closer until he’s splayed out on top of you, fully relaxed and squishing you into the couch. You love the weight of him, love feeling your heart speed up to match the beat of his, love being able to breathe in his comforting scent, especially because it’s faded from the sheets with him being gone for so long. 
When you first started dating, he made sure you knew that he’d be traveling for work at least once a month, but this is the first time he’s been gone for more than two weeks and you’re almost desperate to have his traces back in your shared apartment. You’ve missed washing his mug along with yours, and singing in the kitchen with him as you cook and dance together, and giggling yourselves to death over all your little inside jokes. 
More than that, you’ve missed his presence. You’ve missed the way he can instantly soothe or rile you up, the way you sleep intertwined no matter how warm either of you get, the way he can decipher your needs with a single look. He’s the most caring, intuitive person you’ve ever met, and the sheer longing you’ve felt for him these past three weeks has you set on keeping him in your arms. 
He seems to have accepted his fate, his face buried in your neck as soft breaths flow out over your skin, the pattern growing deeper and deeper until you’re sure he’s asleep. He must be really tired, you think, he never goes to sleep without washing up first. 
You feel a little bit bad that you didn’t let him shower when he had the energy, so you’ll only let him nap for a few minutes before waking him up and dragging him to the bathroom. 
.
You startle awake when Joshua moves from his place on top of you, the shifting of his weight and the absence of his warmth enough to pull you from slumber. 
“C’mon, baby. We can’t sleep out here,” he murmurs, taking your hand and rubbing his thumb over the back until you nod up at him and roll off the couch, your limbs numb and your back aching. 
He pouts sympathetically at your grimace, walking behind you and rubbing your shoulders with a firm touch, his long, skilled fingers hard at work. You step into the dark bedroom and skip the bed, heading straight for the en suite and pulling him along when he moans in displeasure and reaches yearningly toward the cushy duvet. 
“Shower first,” you remind him, and he seems to remember how many hours he was in recycled air on that plane, stripping his clothes off with urgency. You turn the water and shower light on in the meantime, sitting on the edge of the vanity and watching with tired eyes as he slowly reveals his skin to you. 
He glances over just as he steps out of his boxer briefs, his eyes catching yours and a small smirk quirking the corner of his lips as he makes his way over to you. “Did you get too distracted to take your clothes off? I can help you with that, don’t worry.” 
“Babe, I already showered. I was just going to hang out with you while you washed up,” you whisper, staring up at him and watching his face fall into a pout as soon as you finish speaking. 
“But I’ve been gone for so long and I missed you so much,” he takes hold of both of your hands and tugs them to rest under his chin, blinking those big doe eyes at you until you groan and let your head drop back. 
“Fine, but if you get my hair wet, you’ll be in trouble,” you teasingly warn him, your words bringing his smirk back. 
“Baby, I think I’ll like any punishment you could think to give me,” he steps closer and leans in, practically speaking into your mouth before pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss. You let your eyelids flutter closed, the familiar pressure of his mouth stealing every last bit of tension from your body. Then his hand cups your cheek to hold you in place as his tongue glides along your bottom lip, and suddenly, you’re wide awake. 
“We’re supposed to be getting clean, Joshua,” you pull away just enough to remind him, your arms twining around his neck in clear opposition to your words. You can’t help it, though. It’s been three weeks since you’ve had him, since you’ve had more than your toys and your own hands, and you can already feel the heat stirring in your belly after just one kiss. 
“Which is why we should get dirty now, not after,” he murmurs, his voice and his words so convincing, you wonder if he was put on this earth just to tempt you. When his other hand reaches down to hook under your knee and pull your legs open, his hips filling the space and his hardening dick pressing against your center, you know he was. 
You can’t find it in yourself to care, not when he grinds himself into you with a bitten back groan, his fingers squeezing the sensitive underside of your knee and his breath hot against your lips. You want him to kiss you again but he doesn’t, and you realize he’s waiting for a response, one you’ve forgotten to give. 
“Okay, okay, you’re right, just-” 
He leans in and swallows the rest of your words, his lips locked with yours and his palm warm on your cheek. His thumb stretches over to pull your chin down, opening your mouth for his searching tongue, the gesture making you sigh out a shuddering, needy moan. He groans in return, pressing closer to you and hitching your thigh up on his hip so he can dig his thick cock into your covered pussy. 
You whimper brokenly, fighting with yourself about whether you should pull away and finish your sentence or just let him ravish you. But you do still need to be able to get clean later, and if you leave the water running, there’ll be no heat left. 
So you shift your hands to his chest and push him away, even though everything in your body calls for the opposite. 
“What’s wrong?” He pants, his brows furrowed and his hands immediately soft on you. 
“Just shut the shower off, babe, we’re wasting water,” you urge him, sliding back to your feet and rushing to take your clothes off as he reaches into the cubicle and turns the spigot. When he faces you again, he stops short, just staring at your naked body in the steamy air, his gaze dark and heavy on you. 
You hop back up onto the vanity and spread your legs, and that spurs him into action. He’s in front of you in two steps, his fingers fever hot on your inner thighs as they smooth up to the mess between your legs. You’re so wet for him, you can feel it, air clinging to the slickness and making you shiver before his hand covers the whole of your cunt, the heel of his palm hard against your clit and his fingertips slipping inside. 
“Fuck, baby, missed this perfect little pussy so fucking bad,” he moans to you, two of his fingers sinking into your already fluttering walls, your inner muscles clamping down on them when he pulls them out only for you to whimper when he pushes them back in. 
“Yeah?” You whine, wanting to hear more but not having the words to ask for it with his long, thick fingers knuckle deep inside of you. 
“Yeah, thought about you every damn night, most mornings, too,” he chokes out a self-deprecating laugh, as if he thinks you don’t miss him just as much as he misses you. 
“I have t-to make myself not call you whenever I want you, or I would,” you gasp as his fingertips find that patch that makes you squirm. “I would be calling you all the time.” 
He grins affectionately and coos a soft, “Baby,” just as he works a third finger inside of you, curling all three into your sweet spot. Your head tilts back, breaking the eye contact he so loves to keep, and his other hand curves around the back of your neck to hold your head up for you, his forehead pressing to yours and his eyes intent. 
“Keep looking at me, baby. I missed you too much not to see you now,” his voice wavers but his fingers never do, their aim precise and more than enough to ruin you, especially when his thumb sets on your throbbing clit and starts to rub swift circles. 
“Will you cum for me? Please, I wanna feel it,” he begs, all traces of his earlier cockiness gone. 
All you can do is nod, though you can barely even do that with his grip on the nape of your neck, so you force out, “Yes, Joshua, yes, yes, yes,” just before your vision whites out and your pussy locks down on his fingers, a small gush of arousal leaving you and pooling in his palm. He works you through it, his gaze heated and covetous, and when you finally stop clenching and whimpering, he drags his fingers out and wraps them around his cock. 
You want to look down so bad, but he’s still holding your head up and you know he wants your eyes on his, so you don’t look away. The first graze of his hot, leaking dick is enough to make you jump, the head brushing over your sensitive clit before he lines himself up. He starts to push inside, and now you’re grateful for the eye contact because it means you can watch him as he finally gets to feel you again. 
His lashes flutter, his eyes roll back, and his mouth drops open on a long, deep groan when he bottoms out inside of you. His grip on your neck is harsh, as is his grip on your thigh, but you love when he leaves bruises, love the little points of tenderness that act as a reminder of when you were connected with him in every way. 
More than that, you love how the first time in a few weeks feels like the first time period, his cock thick and long enough to stretch you even after three fingers and an orgasm. You’re sure you’ll ache tomorrow, but you don’t mind even a little bit, not when it means you get to welcome him home with your heart and your body. 
“Can I move, baby?” He whispers through gritted teeth, his gaze back on yours and his cock twitching inside of you. 
“Yeah, please,” is all you can manage, your nails digging into his shoulders and your thighs straining as you make room for him to thrust. He withdraws a few inches, just far enough that when he angles your head down, you can see the gleam of your arousal on his cock. 
“Watch,” he encourages you, his fingers firm on the nape of your neck as he slides back inside with a sharp buck of his hips. The fullness makes you gasp, a zip of electric pleasure shooting down your spine at the sight of him buried deep inside of you, where he’s meant to be. The rhythm he builds is fast, relentless, almost frantic, like he thinks you’ll disappear if he doesn’t fuck you into the bathroom counter. 
It’s exactly what you need, his urgent pace too much for you to keep up with but not too much for you to take, his cock bullying through your tightening walls to fill you again and again. You love this push and pull, love the rocking of his hips into yours, love the way it feels to be one with him, to be whole. You’ve missed it, missed him, and before you know it, tears are burning in your throat and bubbling up over your lower lash line. 
Joshua presses his forehead to yours and you feel his eyes on you, know he can tell they’re not tears of pain but tears of relief, and he just releases your neck and thigh to wrap his arms around you, tugging you into his chest even as he continues to fuck in and out of you. 
“Love you,” he moans, his voice shot and his hips speeding up. “Love you so fucking much.”
“I love you,” you warble back, clinging to him with everything you have as that coil starts to wind tighter and tighter in the depths of your belly. His cock twitches inside of you, leaking precum, and you know he’s just as close as you are, so you drop one hand from his shoulder and tuck it between your bodies, swirling circles over your clit. 
One of them catches just right, and paired with his perfect cock, it’s more than enough to push you over the edge. You drag him with you, your rippling walls sucking him in deeper and practically milking the cum from him as you gasp and whine. He answers with groans and whimpers of your name, the combination of his voice and his weeping dick making you shiver in his hold and tighten up just a little bit more, your aftershocks overlapping each other so much they become another orgasm. You shiver your way through it, burying your face in his neck so you can cry in peace. 
You catch your breath together, your chests rising and falling in tandem, Joshua’s hands petting you anywhere they can reach. They journey from the bottom of your spine to the top, over your shoulders, along your neck, into your hair, and then reverse, soothing you into a state not far off from sleep. 
“I’m gonna turn the shower back on, baby,” he murmurs to you, and you nod, forgetting that means he needs to pull out. When he starts disentangling himself from you, you can’t help but whimper and hold him tighter, needing him close now more than ever. 
Thankfully, he seems to understand, gently shushing you and breathing, “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay. I’m not going anywhere. We can stay like this as long as you need.” 
“Can I eat you out in the shower, though? I thought about it the whole flight home.”
“Babe, your flight was, like, nine hours.”
“Yeah, and?” 
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AN: ending line is not an ariana grande reference lmao
Seventeen Masterlist
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chrollohearttags · 4 months
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random firefighter!ace headcanons (while I finish this fic!)
warnings: nothing too bad! some fluffiness and silly!ace, a few nsfw things under the cut, alcohol mentions, food mentions
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firefighter!ace is surprisingly a neat freak. At least around the firehouse..he does weekly inspections and is very meticulous about how the equipment is stored. He has his own little system and everything. (his apartment is another story though!)
firefighter!ace thinks he is the appointed cook in the firehouse. Mans throws down in the kitchen and will make enough to feed an army. (he’s half Filipino in my head idc idc) so he cooks a lot of Asian fusion dishes, recipes passed down from his mom and family and yes, he insists on making them for (y/n) too on ‘date’ nights.
firefighter!ace is a CLOWN and a half. He keeps everybody in high spirits, especially after a rough call. Dancing, playing music, cracking jokes, playing cards..he will never let his team stay down for too long! (hc that he loves Bad Bunny, J Balvin and a lil bit of dancehall 🤭.) went to the club with (y/n) once and you were shocked when you started whining on him and he knew what to do with it!
firefighter!ace keeps teddy bears and dolls in the fire truck in case there are children at the scene and he always rushes to comfort them.
firefighter!ace spends his days off hiking, camping, running and doing a bunch of nature-centric activities. He loves the outdoors and wants to share that passion with you! He gets sooo excited when you agree to go on a hike with him up to this canyon he’s trekked a few times, surprised when you beat him up there. “You’re really good at this, rookie. You can run more than your mouth.” “Nah, I just wanted to kick your ass, that’s all.”
firefighter!ace is an animal lover. He has two cats and the firehouse dog is his literal son. He pets random animals whilst out at the park and will come over to your apartment just to ignore you and play with your kittens! “Anyways, I’m not here for you. I came to see my daughter, thank you.” 😭
firefighter!ace is the life of the party and that even gets worse when he drinks. He can handle his liquor pretty well so he doesn’t fall all over the place but he is way too lively when he’s drunk!
firefighter!ace does have a bit of a fashion game. He and his brother are sneaker heads and collect them so his closet is filled with all sorts of shoes. He has more a rustic, indie/hippy aesthetic but he dresses really nice when he needs to.
firefighter!ace loves the idea of sneaking around the firehouse with you. Getting in quickies with the very little free time and privacy you have. Covering your mouth as he gets you up against the wall in the bunks. “C’mon, rookie. We only have a few minutes, don’t get us caught.”
firefighter!ace is a back kisser, neck licker and suck toes. He’s so attentive and loving when you guys do get your alone time. Especially when you’ve had an attitude all week and he knows what you need. He will give you the slowest strokes while looking deep in your eyes and prone bone because he doesn’t want you doing any of the work. “Is this what you wanted, baby? Needed me stretch you out? Should’ve just said that from the beginning.”
firefighter!ace lovesssss showering together. Not just for the sexual aspect but the intimacy of it. Touching and feeling every inch of your skin, kissing you real slow underneath falling water and holding your face. Seeing your skin all lathered up in soap and just admiring every inch of your body. “You’re so soft..I love it.”
firefighter!ace gets so intense and passionate, becoming a little possessive..fucking you like it’s the last time after extremely dangerous calls. If there was an instant where your life has been in danger or he was scared of losing you, he all but puts you through the mattress, making you whimper and claw at the sheets as you scream his name. He cries into your neck/shoulder, just confessing his feelings. “You’re mine..you got that? Don’t you ever scare me again.”
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sincerity--extreme · 2 years
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Why can't I be normal? Be able to tune out sounds that are clearly only bothering me? Be able to talk to people I want to talk to and make friends? Be able to ask for help when I need it? Be able to say things that need to be said?
Why am I so sensitive and needy? Why am I so dependent but somehow at the same time can't trust anyone and let them like and help me? Why does little things impact my life so much? Why can't why just give up and free the world from my insignificant existence?
Why can't I just be normal like everyone else seems to be?
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ventismacchiato · 1 month
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RAFAYEL HEADCANONS
canon complaint, established relationship
sorry guys, can u tell i have a favorite
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matching everything. phone charms. earrings. nails. socks. you name it, he’ll buy everything in two.
begs you every other day to get a matching tattoo with him. he’s even drawn up multiple designs for you to choose from and will keep asking you until you eventually agree, how could you refuse?
hates cats, says he’s allergic (he’s not) but will run out the room when your cat walks in when he’s staying over. one time you asked him to feed it when you were away on a mission and you watched through your cat cam as it took him fifteen minutes to get the bravery to even get five feet near your cat.
so very chronically online. he’s a certified yapper. you’re his only follower on his private twitter and best believe he’s posting every single thought he has, and he expects you to reply to every single one. also asks you to match profile photos, but he has commitment issues so you guys change them almost every week.
you usually wake up to at least one voice note from him, minimum of five minutes long. you got used to playing them as podcasts as you got ready for work.
honestly he already probably gets his nails done, but will let you do them for him. more so force you, he’s lazy. but if you like to have yours done he would be able to do the prettiest designs for you.
aquarium dates are his favorite, no need to get a guide because rafayel will talk your ear off the moment you’re inside.
boy who cried wolf. fakes being sick for your attention so much so that you don’t even believe him when he actually is. not until thomas tells you that rafa has been whining about missing you in bed.
clearly has abandonment issues and gets upset when you don’t let him know where you are or if you’re okay. he’ll show up at your apartment the few times you pass out from a mission and forget to reply, ready to be mad at you. but the moment he sees your wounds and tired eye bags he loses any ounce of anger he once had.
love language is quality time, doesn’t matter what you’re doing as long as it’s together. he’s the type to tag along when you need to go grocery shopping or pick up something. he just likes to be beside you.
he is a brat, so he’ll laugh as he watches you struggle to carry all the groceries back inside. but it’ll only last a few seconds before he scoops them from you. if you guys go to a carnival together his immediate thought is to win every prize there. it’s only when he’s sucked the poor booths dry is when you have to tug him away.
claw machine dates are weekly and mandatory, but if you think you’re getting a turn think again. he gets too into it and forgets to share. you’ve come to learn you just need to pry him away from it
always follows the sidewalk rule but in return will make a big deal out of you opening doors for him since you’re his bodyguard. he’s the girlfriend in the relationship fr
that’s not the entire time though, when it’s just you two and he’s all worn out from being annoying all day his tone will go softer and his gaze warmer. he loves you he really does he just showcases it weirdly
constantly asking, morelike begging, you to stay the night. even if you have work the next day he says he needs you to fall asleep. it’s happened so many times you eventually brought one of your uniforms over and some clothes so you could spend the night and still go to work. it’s hard not to give in to him.
loves pda. if it was up to him he’d have his hands on you constantly. will get sulky if you don’t hold his hand when you go out.
much like xavier i don’t think he would enjoy working out. but if you need to go to the gym to train he’ll sit on a yoga ball beside your treadmill and talk your ear off. he’ll spot you on the machines but won’t go near anything. he will offer to sit on your back as you do push-ups though. you decline.
nsfw
probably a switch but after seeing his tipsy invitation and ebb and flow scenes he’s giving he prefers to be on the bottom. probably bratty at the beginning but he according to the cards he gives in pretty easily, letting mc tie him up and referring to you as master likeeee. i feel like he just wants you to enjoy it more than he wants to enjoy it. gets off at seeing you get off type of deal.
he’s giving pillow princess vibes but if you ask he’ll give you the same treatment but tease you the entire time tbh he’s sooo bratty but i can’t see him being a hard mean dom. like he’ll give into you but make you work for it. edging kink all the way
“hmm, should i stop? i can’t let you finish this quick.”
“wow i didn’t know you were so sensitive here.”
“i haven’t even used my fingers yet and you’re already this wet.”
100% down to try any sex toy can you imagine him buying some sort of tentacle dildo as a joke cus he’s a mermaid but then you end up actually using it on him one night
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melobin · 1 month
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innocent 𐙚 anton lee
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warnings. best friend!anton x female!reader, virgin!reader x experienced!anton, virginity loss, nipple sucking, hair pulling, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, pulling out method, quite light-hearted, eludes to a corruption kink.
wc. 4k
summary. anton comes home for the summer and the two of you find yourselves having a deep conversation.
part of my late 2k prompt event
2. “let me take care of you”
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
“how’s idol life?”
“tiring” anton shrugged as he responded to your question, hands resting on his stomach as he laid on your bed “i love what i do but sometimes i miss being back here” he turned his head to the side to look at where you sat on the bed next to him, back against the head board with with yours in his hair.
“at least you’re back for a few weeks” anton smiled softly at your reply, fingers pushing through the soft strands of his hair. his eyes were tired and he felt them begin to shut, yet he didn’t feel like sleeping yet. he found himself sitting up next to you instead.
“how have things been here? anything new? any boyfriends i need to beat up?” you laughed as your hands dropped to your lap.
“no one”
“and why not?” you shrugged at his question, paying no mind to how nosy your best friend was.
“i mean, the girls have been encouraging me to find someone over the summer but i don’t know how likely that’ll be”
���they want you to get into a relationship?”
“they want me to lose my virginity, tonnie”
“ah” the topic of your virginity wasn’t a sore one, the two of you just never discussed it “do you want to?” you shrugged again.
“yeah” you sighed for a moment, looking over at anton “but it’s okay it’ll happen one day”
“why do you want to lose it?”
“i just wanna know what it feels like, the girls are always talking about how good it is and how it feels so much better than when they do it themselves and i’m just curious i guess. there’s only so much a girl can do before she needs more” anton watched you carefully as you spoke, head tilting to the side as he thought.
“i get it, i was the same”
“how do you feel now you’re not a virgin?”
“the same, just hornier”
“oh that’s not good” his fingers found themselves tracing mindless patterns against the skin of your thigh “i don’t need more horniness”
“it gets that bad for you?” anton wasn’t sure why he was asking such questions, neither of you had ever delved into such a realm together before.
“yeah, sometimes i’m at it every night trying to get some sort of relief, most are filling with mediocre orgasms that barely make me feel anything”
“i didn’t realise you struggled so much” you laughed at his choice of words.
“i’ll be fine once i get some help”
“do you want some now?” anton was, well anton. he wasn’t bold, he was quiet, kept to himself, anton had absolutely never forwardly asked a girl if she wanted to sleep with him. until now, at least. he panicked for a moment, not knowing how you’d react to his sudden question.
“you want to take my virginity?”
“do you want me to?” silence filled the air as you looked at each other, his fingers paused their patterns as his hand flattered out on your thigh. it was in the moment that you realised just how close together you were, his hand on your skin sent heat to your core.
“yes”
“are you sure?”
“one hundred percent” anton nodded and squeezed your thigh. he moved himself, kneeling back so he could position you to lay on the bed, his fingers trailed along your thighs whilst he looked down at you.
“then let me take care of you, i’ll give you what you need, okay?” you nodded, eyes seemingly gazed over at the tension that had formed around the two of you.
anton could never have admitted his attraction to you out loud, part of him thought maybe he was being selfish by taking your innocence but the other part of him knew you wanted it too. anton could recall the first time he had a wet dream about you, how you bounced so prettily on his cock and cried out his name. he remembers how quickly he darted to the shower when he woke up and how even though he tried not to, he ended up with his hand flat against the tiled wall with his other tugging at his cock quickly, images of you flooding his mind as he came.
it was the start of a vicious cycle for anton, he felt like he’d just hit puberty by the way he was growing hard everytime he was around you, dreaming nightly about having your precious cunt wrapped around his cock whilst he drilled into you. sure, anton had girlfriends and one night stands and they usually took his mind off of things but once he saw you again he folded.
he wasn’t sure if having sex with you would make the dreams better or worse, but he guessed there was only one way to find out. one thing he knew though, was that you were even prettily in real life than in his dreams. your lips parted as you looked at his face, eyes focused on him as you let out a deep breath. beauty was subjective but anton believed anyone would’ve been blind to not see beauty in you.
focusing on the moment at hand, anton laughed lightly,l as he leaned over you, feeling one of your legs hook around his waist and your foot rub against the back of his thigh.
“what are you thinking about, tonnie?”
“how we ended up here” you frowned slightly as you looked at him.
“we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to”
“no no i do i promise i do, there’s nothing i want more than this. i know no one will give you the experince the way i can, love” you smiled lightly at him, hand reaching up to hold his cheek, thumb rubbing over the skin as your other hand pressed against his clothed chest.
“i trust you more than anything, i want this” anton sighed as he leaned closer to you, lips barely touching yours as he tested the waters. he pushed them a little further against yours, kissing you softly. the kiss only lasted for a short moment, a peck that confirmed to the both of you that this is what you wanted.
it only took a second of your lips to be parted for him to lean in again, lips pressing softly against yours as he brought you into a slow kiss, it made you feel dizzy as it grew deeper. your hand fingers their way to the strands of hair he had sitting at the back of his neck, breathing getting heavier as he continued to kiss you.
this was one of the things you craved most, the intense making out that left your cunt throbbing for attention. you weren’t sure on how to portray your need to anton without whining, the whine slipped out once he broke the kiss. his cheeks were flushed as he looked at you, his knee slipping in between your legs and pressing against your core, you gasped at the feeling.
“how are you feeling?” his voice was soft as he asked, barely speaking above a whisper.
“i need you” you believed the whimper that fell from you as you spoke was pathetic, but anton thought it was the hottest thing you’d ever done.
“need?”
“so bad tonnie, please” he could never deny anything you asked for, especially this. one final, gentle kiss to your lips was all it took before he knelt up once again. his fingers pushed under your shirt, looking at your face for any sign of discomfort or hesitation. “you can take it off, it’s okay” he nodded at your confirmation, fingers gently brushing against your skin as he pushed your shirt over your head and dropped it onto your bedroom floor.
he wasn’t expecting for you to be bare under your shirt, yet he was pleasantly surprised to find out you were. he couldn’t help but admire you, every skin was so soft as his fingers traced over it, nipples so hard as he thumb brushed against them. he took note of the way you squirmed as he brought his hand to cup your breast, your nipple being rubbed between his thumb and index finger before he leaned down.
as his hand squeezed one of your breasts, his other hand held the underneath of the other, pushing it up so he could wrap his lips around your nipple. he let his tongue glide over the hardening bud as he sucked lightly, letting your fingers lace them through his hair and pull gently as you whined at the unfamiliar feeling.
he savoured the feeling of your nipple on his tongue, already adoring the way your body reacted to him sucking on it. he released it from his lips before moving to the other one, this time his tongue poked out of his lips, flicking over the nub a few times before leaving open mouthed kisses against it. he felt his cock twitch in his pants when you moaned and pulled a little harsher on his hair.
he pressed a final kiss to your nipple before kissing along the valley between your pressed, lips parted leaving wet spots in his path as he made his was down your body. his fingers hooked over the the waist line of your trousers, catching your panties with it. he looked up at you for a moment, lips still attached to your skin as you nodded to him.
he hummed against your skin as he slowly pulled them off of you, head lifting as he dropped them to the floor, fingers curling around your inner thighs to part your legs for him. he groaned at the sight of you bare in front of him, opting to pull his own shirt over his head so you didn’t feel alone.
“you’re so pretty” he admired you from head to toe, your body made his heart flutter and the sight of your cunt glistening under the light left his cock fluttering too. he noticed the way your eyes lingered on his body, tracing every detail of his abs as he knelt before you. your fingers reached out to touch them, nails lightly raking against his skin before you looked at his face.
“so are you”
anton’s fingers trailed up your inner thighs before they reached your pussy, his thumbs pressed against your lips as he held them apart and looked at you. his mouth watered at the sight of your slick cunt.
“let me eat you out baby” you whined at the way he was looking at you and how he spoke to you, his words went right to your core.
“please” he moved back until he was laid on the bed, he looked up at you as his thumb brushed over your clit.
“have you ever been eaten out before?” you shook your head and whimpered, the situation growing intense and overwhelming you. there wasn’t a word you could think of to describe the way you felt toward anton in that moment, just primal need for him to touch you. anton found himself loving your answer, his mouth watering as he thought about tasting your untouched, innocent cunt.
he leaned forward, parting his lips and breathing over your slick folds before he placed a wide, open mouthed kiss over your pussy. he let his lips drag along your flesh before he done it again, being gentle as he kissed you. his hands hooked under your thighs so he could pull you closer to his face, tongue peaking out of his lips so he could press it against your slit, dragging it along your core before circling your clit with it.
he groaned as the taste of you filled his mouth, lips closing around your clit as he heard you whimper and felt your fingers grip at his hair. you were so sensitive, so sweet and whiny at every little touch. even with the small amount of stimulation anton had began to give you your hips were squirming under him, your shut as you took in the feeling of his tongue.
he was slow, not wanting to overwhelm you by going too fast. his tongue circled your clit, lips kissing over the top of it repeatedly, lips only wrapping around it and sucking on it when he thought you were ready. anton felt an intense spark run through his cock when you moaned a little louder at the feeling, the sound of you becoming breathless and moaning because of him made his cock leak.
he sucked a little harder on your clit, tongue flicking over it a little faster as he was determined to make you cum. somewhere during his actions, his middle finger found your sopping hole, the tip of it carefully circling it before he pushed it inside of you. you gasped as you felt it, his finger was longer than yours, thicker too. along side his tongue flicking over your clit, you felt as if your body was beginning to fall apart.
for a moment he released your clit, head lifting up to look at you as his finger curled inside of you. “how does it feel, baby?” you whimpered when you parted your lips, gimping as you felt another finger being pushed into you.
you were a stranger to fingering, yet it felt different having someone other than yourself do it to you, especially anton. “it’s good” your voice was weak, it was all anton needed to hear, the shaky, whiny undertone of your words had his heart melting. he smiled at you before ducking his head back down, two fingers curling inside of you as he wrapped his lips around your clit once more.
you couldn’t explain how you felt, there was an intense feeling running through your clit as anton sucked on it. you struggled to keep yourself quiet, couldn’t keep your eyes open nor could you stop your legs from shaking. the mix of his tongue with his fingers left you a wreck, unable to find a way to tell him that you were about to cum.
“cum when you’re ready baby” you whimpered hearing him talk against your cunt, his fingers speeding up their movements inside of you as he drove you to your orgasm, wanting nothing more than to feel you spilling onto his tongue and giving you your first ever orgasm from someone else.
the feeling of your orgasm hitting you was like nothing you’d felt before, you weren’t sure how to react as it ran through you. moans left you instinctively, anyone name slipping out without you realising as you came on his fingers and tongue. letting him drag out every last drop of your orgasm until you could give him anything more.
anton’s lips were slick when he lifted his head from your cunt, slowly withdrawing his fingers from your hole before looking down at you. he admired the way you were breathing heavily, how your eyes looked tired and how you struggled to keep them open as you attempted to regain your breathing. there was a subtle smile on your lips as your eyes opened, anton returned your smile as his hands soothingly rubbed your thighs.
“do you want to continue?” his question was simple but he needed to know, not wanting to give you too much all at once.
“please”
“i don’t have any condoms”
“i don’t either” you started, looking down at the bulge that had formed in his pants before looking back at his face “but i trust you, plus you can pull out right? i can get the morning after pill tomorrow just to be precautious” anton looked at you, fingers creeping up your skin before lacing with yours.
“it’s completely your choice baby” he lifted your hand and brought it to his lips, pressing then softly against the back of it “i’m okay with whatever you want to do”
“then please tonnie, i need you” he nodded before kissing the back of your hand again, letting go of it as he stood up to remove his sweats and briefs. you never knew what to expect when seeing antons cock, the size being unknown to you until he revealed it. the thickness of his cock intimidated you slightly, it looked heavy as it weighed itself down, the tip red and slick, leaking slightly.
you watched as anton knelt up between your legs, his hand wrapping around his cock as he laid it against your stomach. your eyes stayed glued to it, fingers itching to wrap around it so you could feel it in your hand.
“go on, it’s okay” it overwhelmed you how easily anton could read what you were thinking. you let your hand fall to your stomach before you reached down to wrap it around his cock, it did feel heavy in your hand. anton groaned as he felt your soft skin glide against him, your hand feeling gentler than his ever had as it ran along his cock.
“is it going to fit?” your question was genuine and innocent, slight concern lacing your tone as you looked up at his face. anton almost hated the way his cock throbbed at the sound of it.
“it will” he nodded before continuing “but you don’t have to take all of me angel. i’ll be gentle with you and you can decide how much you want to take. if it’s too much we can stop okay? all you have to do is tell me”
“i love you tonnie” anton has heard you say that multiple times in the past but it felt different in this moment, your voice appeared more vulnerable as looked down at you. his hand reached for your face, thumb brushing over your cheek as he leaned down to kiss you softly.
“i love you too baby” his face stayed near yours, hand moving to lace his fingers through yours and press them down against the mattress near your head, letting you dig your nails into the back of his hand as he replaced your hand that was wrapped around his cock with his own.
“are you ready, love?” you gulped at his question, eyes watching his. he looked at you with a gentle gaze, never taking his eyes off of yours.
“i’m ready tonnie” he watched you for a moment, tip of his cock pressing against your soaked clit. your lips parted at the feeling, breathing growing a little deeper as he dragged it down your slit.
he was focused on you when he pressed the head of his cock against your inviting hole, he felt you clench before he properly pushed it in. his thumb rubbed against the back of your hand, lips pressing against your temple.
“you can relax baby, it’s okay” you took a deep breath as you tried to let your body relax, allowing yourself to sink into the sheets under you. anton paid mind to the way you gasped when the head of his cock shifted inside of you, pressing slightly deeper as his girth stretched you out.
you opened your mouth, wanting to tell him how big he felt but all you could do was whimper. it didn’t hurt the way you’d first believed it would, but the stretch was overwhelming. it wasn’t painful but there was an ache in your cunt that you couldn’t shift, the only way the ache hurt was because you were aching for something more, but you weren’t sure what that something more was.
“is it too much?” anton wasn’t all the way inside of you, the parts of himself he did give you were slowly being dragged in and out of you. letting you adjust to the way you were taking him. you shook your head at his question, gulping before trying to respond.
“i want more” you sounded broken when asking for more, anton groaned a little louder as he shifted more of himself inside of you, watching your face carefully as he slowly pushed the rest of his cock into your welcoming heat.
anton felt overwhelmed but he didn’t want to show it. you were wrapped tightly around his cock, your slick making it hot inside. he wanted to make you feel good, wanted you to feel safe and comfortable under him whilst you took his cock but you just felt so good, too good, it took a lot in him to not go dizzy because of it.
he kept himself still once his cock was seated completely inside of you, looking at you as you clenched around him. your eyes opened gently as you looked back at him, his cheeks were flushed and his eyes were wide, he looked like a mess. a pretty one, at least, but a mess. you wondered just how much he was suffering from this.
anton’s free hand laced through your free one, both of your hands now intertwined as he pulled his hips back before pushing them forward again. it was a smooth, slow motion. his cock filled you up incredibly well. the ache you felt in your core was beginning to fade, having every inch of him inside of you only increased the pleasure you felt inside of you, rather than an ache.
“it’s so good tonnie” your voice broke mid sentence, eyes not being able to stay open as he fucked you slowly, stretching out your cunt with each soft thrust forward. whine-like moans fell from your lips as you took him, anton found himself groaning during it too.
“you feel so fucking good baby” anton moaned as he spoke back to you, his forehead pressing against yours as he basked in the way you felt around him, finding himself quickly becoming obsessed with how perfectly your cunt molded around him.
within a few moments one of his hands let go of yours, soon enough you felt his thumb press against your clit, small circles being rubbed against the slick, swollen numb as he continued to fuck you slowly.
“wanna make you cum” he told you, head lifting from yours so he could look down at you, thumb speeding up as his thrusts stayed the same “want you to cum around my cock, baby” you nodded and whined a little louder at his words, already feeling your body heat up a little more as he continued pleasing you.
“i don’t think im gonna last long tonnie” you whined through your words, back arching up, chest pressing against his as his cock slipped a little deeper inside of you, head seemingly finding a spot inside of you that had moan after moan slipping from your lips.
“it’s okay baby you can let go whenever you’re ready” he treated you so well, cared for you as if you were going to break apart at any second, you were fragile under his touch. all he wanted to do was make you cum around his cock and bring you to heaven.
bringing you to your second orgasm brought anton joy, but also left him tilting toward the edge. he let you fall apart under him, feeling your legs shake and your fingers dig into his hand and back as he fucked you through it. only pulling out once he knew you were done. anton quickly found himself kneeling up over your body, hand jerking off his cock as he released himself over your skin.
looking down at you, anton couldn’t help but admire the way his cum covered the skin of your stomach and how tired your pretty face was. he kissed you again, lips barely touching yours as he let you relax under him. it took him a few moments to get the courage to stand up and leave you, almost rushing to find a towel to help you clean up, gently dragging it along your flesh to help you before letting it fall onto the floor. caving the moment he heard you whine for him to come back to you.
once he did, his fingers raked through your hair as you laid against his chest, arms wrapped around his body tightly as if he was going to disappear within seconds. he could feel your body growing heavy against his, breathing steadying out as you allowed your exhaustion to take over your body.
anton wasn’t sure how the following day would play out for the two of you and how this would affect your friendship, he could only pray that any change that was incoming would be good.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
tag list. @ma-riiii @zombyjuice @addictedtohobi @strayghibli @seokeuns @productiwity @swaggyjinnie @kvstjwonnie @xushigyu @daebin @lavscene @hyucksdelicate @shotaroswifeyily @imthisclosetokms @wccycc @gyuvision @seotired @starrypen @llearlert @yeolwrld @snowyseungs @shawnyle @bbg7mae @hwhjsthetic @cysier @lilriswife4life @riizenextdoor @revehosh @kpxpseoul @emoseob @sashasbluehair @ohmykwonsoonyoung @https-yangjungwon @nctxtrash @sacrificialsim @lunicho @pnkified @hyneyedfiz @astrotrilogy @linloveoneonenine @bludzk1llzyuzu @enha-cafe
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gatitties · 8 months
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War & crack II
—Task Force 141 x young!reader
—Summary: more headcanons with your team as you being chaotic
—Warnings: none
Part One / Halloween special
yeah, I didn't finish my brainstorm and I bring more things from this sudden idea 🫣
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─ Listen, you have a lot of problems.
─ And we are not talking about your jokes about death biting your ass anymore.
─ Price's going to go bald before he retires, how the hell are you still alive today? It is a mystery to them.
─ Everyone noticed during a mission where they had to stay in a safe house for a few weeks that you had the same concentration as a fly, empty thoughts behind your eyes lost in a distant point of reality.
─ You looked like another person when you were a simple civilian, Gaz had to pull you so you wouldn't get run over a couple of times for not looking at the traffic lights.
─ Price needs to put on videos of crunchy slime or Subway Surfers so you could hear what he was saying, (Soap won't admit that it also helps him focus).
─ They discovered that you can sleep in any position, seriously, whether it's standing up, in the bathtub, your body bent in an unusual way, now they understand why you complain so much about back pain.
─ Everyone looks in silence when they give you little impulses to do stupid things, like, last time you were walking to see the area and you found a woman walking her dog, you asked her if you could pet it and when she said yes you pet the woman instead of the dog, Ghost dragged you away murmuring an apology.
─ The following days they decided that you would stay at home, they simply fed your stupidity, every time they arrived you received them with the phrase 'where have you been, loca?' while playing a wolf howl in the background.
─ Luckily it was time to return to the base, during the trip you were listening to music, despite having your headphones you had the volume so high that everyone could hear it, Soap stuck to you because he liked what you were listening, the others decided to drown out the noise with some light talk.
─ Once you returned to the base you relaxed, returning to your working state, you focused again, which relieved all.
─ One day they decided that you needed a nickname since everyone had it except you, so they began to investigate your record as a cadet and even your years in the military school.
─ You kicked and fought because you were something else a while ago, but it was inevitable to find an old report where it said that you were violent with some classmates.
─ And in your anger for probably some nonsense, you ended up biting the ankles of a guy, or a group of guys, or even one of your lieutenants...
─ Soap and Gaz cried with laughter because there was a video of what was evidenced and you looked like a rabid chihuahua attacking its worst enemy.
─ Nibbles, at least it was temporary because you didn't entirely agree with the nickname.
— Since you were now known like that, you went from friendly punches to friendly bites.
─ Once you got kidnapped and you returned to the base the next day because your captors couldn't stand having you sing old Justin Bieber songs or listening to you talk about all your obsessions, they tried to cover your mouth but you just kept making too much noise, the information was not worth it.
─ You arrived in the middle of the meeting they had to prepare the rescue, having the courage to enter the room asking who they were trying to rescuing.
─ Price casually replied that they were looking for you until he did a double take, realizing you were there.
─ You were buried in a mass of muscles after the realization.
─ When you're depressed at random times (because you don't understand how your brain works and you feel bad out of nowhere), everyone will quickly notice, like even though you're not the most talkative person all the time, you usually drop some stupid comment, but on your bad days you are simply a piece of flesh and bones that walks without knowing where it's going.
─ The first time they saw you like this they tried to do something to cheer you up, Price gave you a few days off hoping your mood wasn't due to work overload, he even wrote some of your reports.
─ Soap bought stickers and decorations to your liking to decorate your prosthesis, he also told you that he could draw you a design to have your personalized arm.
─ Gaz tried to talk to you but you just didn't want to open your mouth, he chose to just keep you silent company, maybe you hug him, you need a little physical support.
─ Ghost will leave objects scattered around knowing that you would find them, knowing that they were things that you liked or had been looking for (because the poor guy always has to pick up what you forget around the common room).
— Nothing seemed to work until a stray kitten snuck in and lit up your face, so the easy answer was any baby animal would brighten your day, it was free therapy.
— You once dyed the boys' clothes pink by accident, but at least you told them that now they could go see Barbie with you.
— You promised you'd take them to see Oppenheimer, and that's why they agreed.
— You created a group chat just to send shitpost and teach them the meme path.
— Price just leaves it on seen, Ghost has the group muted, Gaz answers from time to time and Soap is the most active, he learns fast about today's shitpost.
— You really resist the urge to trim Price's beard to make it heart-shaped.
— You use the radio to sing parts of songs when you take too long to jump into action, Price scolds you for it.
— You complain that he seems constantly in a bad mood and you open a profile for him on every dating app you know, even on Grindr.
— You found Ghost's profile browsing Tinder and Soap's profile on Grindr... you decided to use it as a weapon in case you needed any favors.
— Gaz caught you red-handed, but you made a deal and he wouldn't say anything if he can profit from the manipulation.
— You hide it like you're hiding war crimes.
— Why does Price have so many likes from single moms?
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hannieehaee · 5 months
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content: badboy!wonwoo (he's actually a cutie pie he's just v careless with his safety T-T), established relationship, break up, angst, fluffy ending (it's always fluffy endings here or i die), mentions of shady work, mentions of bruises, etc.
part 2
wc: 1191
a/n: thank you so much to the person who requested this!! im rlly bad with angst so this was hard haha if any of u want a smutty continuation pls lmk <3 i was gonna finish w smut but i wasnt sure ;-;
masterlist
"how can you expect me to care about you when you have such little regard for yourself?"
those were some of the last words wonwoo had heard from you last time he saw you.
he had, once again, arrived home late, blue and grey from yet another altercation he'd found himself in. he had promised you he'd leave his shady past behind. that he'd take care of you and you'd exist happily together, never having to worry for the other's safety.
it had taken you a while to break, begging him to put you out of your misery and either leave you or promise you a life in which you wouldn't be terrified every time he stepped foot out of the door. living without you was just unconceivable for wonwoo, which left him with only one choice.
he managed to keep his promise for about a week or two, happy to arrive punctual at home every night and find you waiting for him, more than ready to shower him with your affections.
he hadn't meant to break his promise. nothing broke him more than the look in your eyes as he entered your shared home, two hours late and with twenty missed calls from you. his skin was once again covered with bruises, disheveled hair and exhausted state to match. he hadn't thought this would be the end. that despite of his pleas to please stay, you'd still pack your bags, eyes filled with tears as you cried at him that you couldn't stay and watch him slowly kill himself like this. what you hadn't realized was that nothing could kill him more than your absence.
~
it had only been two weeks since you left him. two weeks since his last genuine smile graced his face. two weeks since he was able to sleep. and most ironically, two weeks since he'd gotten into some type of life-threatening altercation. his bruises had healed by now, taking longer than usual now that he didn't have you to tend to him like before. he still kept up with you, watching you from afar as you cruised through life. he didn't want to make you uncomfortable, hoping to respect your decision to leave and take his heart with you, but your absence was too much for him. if he couldn't have you, he'd at least watch you from afar, dreading what he had lost. so that's what he did, and thats what he was currently doing right now.
you were attending some party, he'd found out. which meant he needed to be in attendance too and watch over you. he felt dejected as he watched you have fun with your friends, sad that maybe the breakup just hadn't been that big of a deal to you. maybe you were truly better off without him. maybe he needed to leave you alone and allow you to enjoy life without a burden such as jeon wonwoo.
he wanted to leave, he truly did, but his body wouldn't let him. he just wanted you back into his life so badly. everything had turned bleak the moment you left, making him just a shell of himself. he wanted to approach you and get on his knees (in front of all the wasted party goes, even) and beg you for forgiveness. he wanted to cry out to you how much he loved you, that you were the light of his life, that he'd leave it all behind for you. but he was too much of a coward to do that. so, he prepared himself mentally in order to leave, sparing one last look your way before disappearing into the crowd. except you were gone. in his distracted state, you had left. your friends were still there, but you were the sole disappearance. wonwoo knew he should've just left you alone, but he couldn't live with himself if something were to happen to you.
he frantically looked for you for a good five minutes before finding you in some empty balcony, sitting down against the rail with your legs hanging from it. he could only see your profile, but was able to spot the shine of your cheeks, a clear indicator that you'd been crying. he once again couldn't help himself when he spoke up.
"baby?" he was slow at approaching you, not wanting to surprise you too much.
you jumped a bit anyways, "wonwoo? what are you doing here?"
"i ... i wanted to see you. i'm sorry"
you had gotten up, now facing him but keeping yourself closed off, arms wrapped around yourself and eyes not meeting his, very much unlike your usual affectionate self.
"wonwoo ... you can't keep doing this. i know you've been following me around. you need to leave me alone."
"i .."
"do you think this is easy for me? i love you. so fucking much. i just cant watch you get hurt over and over. i cant wait home late not knowing if you'll actually come back," you'd began ranting, your emotions getting stronger by the second, "every time you leave it's like i have to hold my breath, and i cant breathe until i have you back to me safely. i can't do this anymore. i love you, i-"
wonwoo couldnt take it anymore. he walked the rest of the way and held onto you. he lightly grabbed you and placed you in his arms, engulfing your shaking form against his chest. you'd begun crying halfway through your speech, your words becoming slurred and you shook and sniffled throughout. wonwoo couldn't physically handle seeing you in such distress without wanting to take it away. so he held onto you. what surprised him was that you held him back. you nuzzled your face into his chest, wrapping your arms tightly around him as you sobbed against him, crying that you loved him.
"i love you ... so fucking much," pulling away, he made sure to look into your eyes as he spoke, "i can't exist without you. i'll stop- i stopped. i'll leave it all behind for you. we can leave. together. i'll do anything for you, just- please. please come back to me. i love you."
"wonwoo ..."
"i mean it! i'll keep you safe. i'll keep us safe. we can start new. just us. you'll never have to worry about me again, i promise. just need you back. please. i can't do this without you, i-"
like in any other cliche, you pulled him into you, kissing his words back into his mouth. but he didn't care. he kissed all emotions right back into yours, letting all the sadness he had in him dissipate against your lips. you kissed until you became lightheaded, sighing against each other's lips even when you were out of breath, refusing to pull away. wonwoo was finally the one to pull away, almost losing his mind at the way your lips chased after his.
"let me take you home? i love you. wanna take care of you."
and with that, you walked back into his life, hand in hand, with the promise that his love for you would keep him safe.
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