#Look ma I drew something for once

[prettiestlovergirl]

SWEET

tw: MDNI; fem!reader; slytherin! reader; oral (f. receiving); hickeys; kitchen quickie; slightly sub! mattheo riddle; french! mattheo riddle.

concept: an afternoon of baking ends in you covered in a mess your boyfriend, mattheo riddle, is more than willing to help you clean up.

a/n: one of my lovely lovely anons helped me come up with this idea hehe. inspired by me, accidentally covering myself in edible glitter when baking. some idea credit to bratetteprincess who just recently did a latina! reader baking w/luke castellan fic! enjoy, my lovelies! 𓆩♡𓆪

everybody in your house knew that sunday mornings were for your baking.

after two years of begging and pleading with all of your professors, you were given permission to use the kitchens one day a week in order to bake to your hearts desire.

you always liked to experiment with new things. various dyes that stained your hands different shades, new flavors that made your hair smell for days, edible flowers that made you gag.

today, though, you might have gotten just a teensy tiny bit carried away with your current experiment: edible glitter.

you'd been desperately craving carrot cupcakes but after you'd made and decorated them, they just looked so... boring. after glancing around the blissfully empty kitchen, you spotted it: the silver edible glitter just begging to be used.

you pressed the pump once over the baking tray, watching happily as a cloud of glitter flew out and created a glittery sheen over the cream cheese frosting.

long story short, 15 minutes later your cupcakes were perfect and you were absolutely covered in edible glitter.

you'd been in the middle of sliding your pretty pink apron off when your boyfriend, mattheo, came in to bother check up on you. mattheo was practically fucking addicted to you.

he couldn't stand not being around you for more than an hour, and when he was with you? his hands were all over you, constantly touching, grabbing, rubbing, or squeezing some part of your body. not that you really minded, you were just as obsessed with him.

"wow, ma douce (my sweet), did an arts and crafts shop throw up on you?" he asked, his usual teasing smirk on lips as he wrapped his arm around you. he nuzzled his face into your neck, not caring about the glitter transferring to his clothes. "what are you even doing with glitter? thought you were baking." he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"it's edible glitter. my cupcakes looked so boring n i ran out of those carrot n bunny sprinkles i love so... i tried something new." you shrugged, sticking your lower lip out in a pout as you set your glitter covered apron down on the counter.

"edible, huh?" mattheo asked, eyes now locked on the shimmering skin above your collarbone. "mhm." you nodded, not paying much attention to your boyfriend as you attempted to try and clean up your mess.

you paused your actions as he leaned down and took a nice, long lick up from your collarbone to your jaw. you let out a soft gasp while he groaned instantly at the sugar taste, admiring how your skin shined now with both the glitter and his saliva.

"mattheo..." you breathed, your voice a soft whine as he drew his tongue back down. "mattheo, i have to clean up, it's part of my deal with the professors." you whined, trying to move from his grip that only seemed to tighten as you shifted.

he thrived on the sounds of your pretty little whimpers, already getting drunk on the one little taste he had of you. he'd never been so down bad for anyone before, but with you? he couldn't help but want to touch you, taste you, 24/7.

"we are cleaning up, ma douce (my sweet). 'm helping you clean up all this glitter first, you got a big clump right there." he murmured, pressing his lips to the skin and sucking harshly on it, drawing another whimper from your lips.

he sucked on the skin, drawing moan after moan out of you until he could see the beginnings of a pretty purple bruise. "there we go, all gone." he hummed, his hands finding their way up to your chest and squeezing your boobs gently.

you mewled softly as he squeezed, biting your lower lip as he kissed and sucked purple marks all over your neck. you squeezed your thighs together tightly, feeling the wetness pool in your panties.

normally, you'd be upset with the number of hickeys he left, but the way his lips moved in sync with his hands made you a little distracted.

he moved away from your neck, now kissing and swiping his tongue over the skin down your arms. he left the occasional bite mark as he moved, your fingers now digging into his scalp as your breathing got heavy.

"mm, mattheo, now you've got some glitter on you." you pouted, dipping your own head down to lick up the newly transferred glitter. you traced your name on his neck with your tongue, leaving your own series of hickeys on his neck.

"fuck." he groaned, hands still massaging your boobs over your clothes while you suck his neck and paint it varying shades of purple and green.

"you should use this glitter more often." he murmured, to which you simply nodded instantly. you grazed your teeth over his pulse point, giggling softly as he let out his own soft whine. "y'know, i think you've got some more glitter down further. hop up on the counter, yeah? want to check it out." he grunted.

you pushed the cooling rack holding your sparkly cupcakes to the side before lifting yourself up onto the counter. "really want to make sure we get it all off." mattheo hummed, lifting your ass up a bit and dragging your shorts and panties down your legs.

he knelt down before you, pressing a few soft kisses up both of your legs before being face to face with your drooling cunt. "ma douce, douce ange (my sweet, sweet angel)" he crooned, taking a long lick through your puffy folds and watching as your toes curled in pleasure.

"fuck, it's even sweeter than the glitter." he groaned, dipping his tongue right back into your pussy. your head lolled back, teeth trapping your lower lip roughly while your hand gripped the back of his head.

he pinched your clit between his teeth and his tongue before rubbing his tongue back and forth rapidly. he relished in the way your back arched and your moans got louder and louder.

you thanked god for the soundproofed kitchens as you bucked your hips against his face. "mattheo, fuck, mattheo!" you whimpered, his name sounding like heaven from your lips.

his tongue continued to work your sensitive clit as you moaned for more, begged for him to move faster. "god, fuck yes, fuck!" you whined, gripping at his curls tightly while he continued to flick his tongue against your puffy bundle of nerves.

"shit, fuck, mattheo, 'm gonna- fuck!" you moaned, nearly collapsing back on the counter as you came roughly on his tongue and chin. he licked and lapped at your pussy, going until he got every single drop and your legs were quivering from the overstimulation.

he let you catch your breath before eventually helping you back up. you got redressed and together, you picked up the kitchen and got your cupcakes onto your pretty little platter.

later that afternoon, you and mattheo snuggled up together on the couch in the common room, chatting away about whatever nonsense you felt like chatting about.

when your friends came in, their eyes widened in confusion at the sight of you: you were both still coated in glitter with hickeys all over your necks, and you even had bite marks on your arms.

"jesus, did you get into a fight with a sparkly vampire?"

ᵈⁱᵛⁱᵈᵉʳ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵇʸ @ᵐᵘʳᵘᶠᶠⁱⁿ

#☆lola writes ! #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo smut #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x you #slytherin boys

[notyetneedcoffee]

May I?

Kinktober - Consent NSFW - Adults Only

Summary: You are careful to get Bucky's permission.

Bucky Barnes normally did not allow people into his apartment. It’s not like there was anything to see. A chair. A TV. A bed he never slept in. The light above the stove in the little kitchen was the only thing to illuminate the emptiness of his space.

“So, you’re a hoarder.” You said, deadpanned, as you stepped into the living room.

Bucky huffed a laugh as he turned on the small side table lamp. He rubbed at the back of his neck. “I, ah, I wasn’t really planning on bringing you back here tonight.”

“It’s okay.” You dropped your purse and jacket on the floor by the little counter separating the kitchen and living room. As you toed off your shoes, you made sure to gauge his reaction. Bucky’s shoulders lowered just a little.

“Do you want a drink or something? I think I have a few beers left.”

“Naw. I’m good.” You came closer to him, taking his gloved hand in yours. “I’d really like to kiss you again.”

His eyes brightened as he leaned forward. You rose on your toes to meet him halfway. For such a hard man, his lips were impossibly soft. His tongue touched your lips and you eagerly opened for him, matching his enthusiasm.

Pulling away a bit you tugged at his jacket. “Are you going to get comfortable?” He stilled. You smiled. “Bucky, you can be comfortable with me. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

His eyes closed and he tipped his head forward. “I want to.”

You slowly removed his gloves, tossing them beside your coat. You ran your fingers over his metallic palm, entwined your fingers with his. “I know you have complete control, but can you really feel my touch.”

He nodded. “Yeah. It’s different, but yeah.”

You brought his hand to your mouth and kissed his palm. Bucky stared, transfixed. You kissed the tip of his fingers. His breath increased. You lightly sucked on his forefinger. Bucky’s eyes closed and nearly imperceptible whine escaped his throat.

Bucky cupped your face with both of his hands and kissed you again. You slid your hands under his jacket, along his t-shirt. He let go of you just long enough to shed his jacket. The gleaming metal of his arm didn’t bother you. Neither did the solid pressure of it as he wrapped his arms around your waist to kiss you more.

“Doll,” He sighed, pressing his forehead to yours. “It’s been a while.”

“I know.” You toyed with the bottom of his shirt where it was tucked into his jeans. “Bucky. May I take this off?” He nodded. You pulled it up, grazing your fingertips along his flat stomach, over his powerful chest, until he lifted his arms and pulled the shirt off the rest of the way himself. Your fingers lingered on his chest. “Damn, you’re gorgeous.”

You reached behind you and unclipped your bra before drawing it along with your shirt over your head. Bucky panted, mouth slightly open. You took a half a step closer. “Will you touch me?”

He nodded. His right hand slid up your side to cup your breast. You drew his left hand to your skin, showing him you wanted him to touch you every way he could. Bucky sighed and wrapped his arms around you. His kiss became more demanding.  His hands explored your back.

“Doll,” Bucky sighed. “Damn, you feel so good.”

“Can I feel more of you?” You nipped at his jaw. He breathed a quiet ‘yes’ as you unfasted his belt.

He stared as you slipped from your pants, standing before him in just tiny white cotton underwear.

When you lowered yourself to your knees, Bucky face expressed so many emotions at once. Excitement, fear, adoration, nervousness. It went decidedly soft when you took your time unlacing his boots and removing them one at a time.

He went still as you unzip his jeans. His erection twitched as you barely brushed against it as you pushed his jeans over his hips. Jeans tossed aside, looking up at him, your hands ran up his thighs. Bucky’s eyes were wide, he chewed on his lower lip.

“Bucky,” You moved closer, so close you could smell his skin. “May I touch you?”

“Yes.” He breathed.

You lowered his boxer briefs and wrapped your hand around his cock. He let go of a shuttered breath. Thick and long. You stroked the silky skin covering the steel of his cock.

“May I,” You ran your nose along the underside of him. “taste you?”

“Oh god,” He groaned. “Yes.”

As your wet mouth wrapped around him, your felt his body twitch. His fingers stroked through your hair. You could feel his tight control beginning to wane. His hips rocked. His thighs locked.

“Fuck, Doll.” He clutched at you. “Stop. Stop. I can’t. . . Stop or this is over too soon.” You stood. Bucky’s thumb slid along your wet, swollen lower lip. “Damn, you’re beautiful.”

“Can we go to bed?”

He nodded, leading you to the other room. It was as sparse as the living room. You kissed him again before crawling to the middle of the mattress. Bucky leaned over you, looping his fingers in your underwear and pulled them down. Your legs fell open. He inhaled deeply through his nose.

“Please, Bucky.”

He slid his hands along your thighs, stroking slowly, moving slowly closer to your core. Long fingers stroked through your folds, gathering your wetness, teasing your clit. Bucky leaned forward with his weight on his free hand to kiss your breasts. His mouth sucked on your hard nipples, making your back arch.

Warmth pooled in your core. Still, you wanted this to be about him.

“Bucky.” You pulled him up and kissed him deeply. Giving a light shove, you pushed him over onto his back. Straddling his hips, you kissed his jaw. Nibbled at his neck. You whispered in his ear. “I want to make you feel good.”

Strong emotion swirled in his eyes. You stroked his chest, sitting back more. His hands came up to cup your breasts. You took his right hand in yours and sucked upon his finger, kissed his palm. “May I do that, Bucky?”

He nodded, visibly shaking at your words.

You reached down, stroking him, rubbing him along your wetness. His hands moved up and down your thighs. As you lowered yourself onto him, impaling yourself, Bucky moaned loudly. You rocked, loving his reaction, lost in the intensity.

“Oh god, Bucky.” You panted. “You feel so good.”

His fingers dug into the cheeks of your ass, rocking you as his hip pushed up. You braced your weight on your hands. You kissed his chest, his neck, his full beautiful mouth. Tension grew, swirling in your belly. Your eyes locked.

“Doll, ah, I’m gonna…”

“Yes,” You breathed. “Me too.”

“God, you’re amazing. Make me feel…wanted.” His gaze held you captive. “Feel so good.”

You moved faster. The coil tightened. You wanted to say things, confess things. The emotion nearly bringing tears to your eyes. His breath grew harsher, hips snapped faster. You began to quiver.

“Please, oh, fuck.” Bucky’s clutched at you. “Come for me.”

You came undone. Eyes locking closed and body shaking. Bucky wrapped his arms around you tight, pushing up into you fast and hard until the moan of his release filled your ears.

You lay atop him, limp and sated. His fingers drew lazy circles along your back. “Doll,” He sighed. “You’re too good for me.”

“No,” You kissed his chest.

He smiled. “Then may I call you my girl?”   

Want more? Check out my Master List.

#Kinktober #Bucky Barnes smut #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes fic #Bucky Barnes fanfic

[milkzoro]

3D ★

portgas d ace -> ‘i wanna see it. in motion. in 3d.’

warnings: sexting, ft call, masturbation

☆彡

ace loved the curves of you, every angle he drooled over. his perfect princess was displayed everywhere.

he had you posted anywhere he could. his wallet, lock screen, on his cars dash, naughty pictures of you were always on exhibit. you were his girl after all, why wouldn’t he want to show you off whenever he got the chance?

these little memories were also there to remind him of you while you were away, he dreaded all those times.

he couldn’t even sleep some night because of your absence,, he wished you were here.

once those feelings registered, he couldn’t help it. fuck, was he so horny. he whined at the pressure growing in his lower abdomen, tightness filling his boxers.

he toyed with himself with the imagination of you but it wasn’t nearly enough. he craved you. he needed to hear you, talk him through it.

“pick up. pick up. — *click* ahhh y/n, babyy~” his voice rang lowly on the line, his sound alone sending flutters towards your core. “hi bae i miss you ♡.”

“fuckk, i miss you too.” his voice was heavy. by the sounds of him you knew he was torturing himself, slowing tracing along his leaky tip before deciding to call you up. “can you answer facetime?”

~

“you look so beautiful mama. let me see all of ya~” a blush crept on your face before extending your arms above to show all your body in frame.

you played into it, you began to feel that same heat rise in your tummy. you angled the camera a bit lower, showing your soft breasts. caressing them tenderly as you lowered your top even more. “like what you see baby?”

“mhmmm show me your cunt, i know you’re wet baby~ can see it in your pretty face.” his words played with your mind, you thighs squeezing around nothing trying to get some friction. he was right, you were so wet.

you had your camera propped up on a pillow, perfectly positioned to show you sitting upright with your legs parted for him. your fingers danced along the hem of your lacy panties. a sigh escaped your lips, you missed him so much.

“fuck princess— you gonna touch your self for me? let me help you, wish i was there for you angel, suck your pussy jus how you like it.” his words drew on. only making you more and more impatient. “take ‘em off y/n, let me see baby.”

you did as he said and stripped them off, teasing your man with your fingers covering most of your pretty cunt.

you heard muffled sounds on the line, his phone was positioned low, showing his toned stomach and his thick neck. he was laying on his back as he played with his dick.

“p-put em in for me— needa hear you babe.”

your fingers slipped between your folds collecting the juices from your arousal, they swirled between the entrance of your hole and your sensitive nub.

“ace—“ you purred for him, pretending your fingers were his own. he groaned with you. seeing your pretty face contract at the feeling of your own fingers, it everything to him.

“when you get home baby— g-gonna treat you so good, fuck- ma- you’re so pretty-”

you couldn’t help but reach your free hand up to squeeze your breasts, the feeling heating up the entirety of your body, you missed his warmth so badly.

your cunt was so achy, you needed something. hearing aces moans and whines on the other line made you squirm. his sweet nothings made the heartbeat in your core pound harder.

“haah— such a pretty girl mama, go ahead, ride your fingers.” instantly your fingers pushed into your plush walls, breathy moans flooding your empty room. “ace— miss you s-so much ahhh~♡”

ace adored you in this state, leaning forward for him, grinding pathetically on your hand, fuckk how he wished he was there. his phone eventually fell out of his hand, lazily placed on his blanket, he was barely in frame anymore.

your dirty pleads drove him crazy, he missed your pretty lips. he wanted to suck on them as he filled your weeping hole. he choked the base of his cock and stroked his shaft. he hasn’t touched himself in days, sticky precum was spilling everywhere, he was filled with so much fucking cum.

his motions grew faster as he pleaded your name. “fuck baby needya here~”

“ace haah- fuck! baby move your camera, wanna see you cum.” the little corner of your boyfriends face wasn’t enough. the way his cock twitched after he came made your tummy do flips. he fixed the position of his camera to show you all of him, he was a panting mess. sticky and disgusting, you loved it.

you rolled against your fingers as the tips pushed against your g spot, your moans consuming you. pumping in an out stretching yourself in all the right ways. “mmm baby i’m so c-close.” your legs trembled as your orgasm sparked within your cunt. aces filthy words edging you on, “fuck baby, just like that. you can do it haah- cmon~ for me?” his chest rose and fell with each pump of his fist. as he was close to his own, he talked you through your high. “cum- cum for me princess, get your clit baby.”

following his orders, you removed your fingers and rubbed circles against your nub swiftly. “aceee mmuuhhh ah~ gonna cum baby!”

your hole tightened round nothing as the wave in your stomach flooded your core, you rubbed faster.

ace was moaning loud on the line. his cock was so so sensitive, pretty veins decorated the sides. he grabbed his phone and flipped the camera to give you a better view. his moans were loud coming through your speakers, they were so sexy. he bit his bottom lip as he choked his throbbing cock.

“fuck y/n!- gunna cum! babyyyyy haaah-ha”.

his moans send vibrations to your cunt, pulsing with each breathy pant. you quickly put your fingers back in your sopping hole, pumping quickly. hearing him call out your name had you gushing around your trembling fingers.

you saw ropes of cum spill from your boyfriend pretty dick, pooling in the crevasses of his abs.

“such a pretty girl ma~ made a mess of me.” he giggled on the line as he flipped the camera back to his freckled face. seeing his reddened cheeks made you fall in love all over again. you giggled with him.

you hurried to clean up your hands and grab your phone. “my handsome boy~ i miss you ♡.”

“i miss you too princess. i love you.”

xxx

i would like ace as a bf please.

#one piece smut #one piece x reader #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace smut #portgas d ace #portgas ace x reader #ace smut #portgas ace x y/n #one piece

[y0urm4m]

BIKER CHRIS

(I feel like biker is just Chris coded soo)

Warnings:swearing,suggestive content,fem reader,nickname “ma”,smut,smoking.

:y/n never really found her self getting along with Chris, but she always felt there was something deeper that drew them back to each other and that darn bike.

It was a Friday evening, like any other she was sat at her window with a lit cigarette in her left hand her phone in her right scrolling through instagram. No new notifications she huffed to herself, what is nick doing he hasn’t answered in hours he had messaged her first asking about meeting up and having a night watching films and catching up on stuff. Bear in mind they talked all day everyday so not much was new, so they’d probably just scroll on there phones eat loads of junk and drink some energy drinks. She inhaled the last toke of her cigarette before putting it out, slowly becoming lost in thought her mind wondered to some of the times nick and her had hung out it was usually fun apart from the times Chris had ruined it by being a self centred, obnoxious jackass.

Speak of the devil, y/n’s thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sound of a motorcycle. Christopher sturniolo’s motorcycle to be in fact. The sound of the accelerator made her stomach do flips and her thighs squeeze together, but the abrupt sound of the motorcycle slowing down outside her house unexpectedly, caught her by surprise. She slowly peeked out the window hoping not to be seen: as she sat in her pyjama shorts and jumper. She finally had caught a clear glimpse of Chris slowly turning the key to his Honda CBR 1000RR: specifically orange and black probably being the only reason Chris bought it in the first place. Chris arose from the bike putting the visor on his helmet up as he began to walk towards y/n’s front door. Instantly y/n jumped up pulling her shorts down as much as she could, although the bottom of her butt still was out for Chris all eyes to see. She slowly made her way towards the door to unlock and see what Chris wanted, she reached her hand for the door handle hastily opening it. As She stood with one leg crossed over the other looking up at Chris, who had finally realised she had answered the door. Before even saying hi he took of his helmet brushing his hand through his hair. Her thighs squeezed together once again but this time Chris was there to catch her in the act, he looked her up and down smirking at the tiny shorts she had on. In response to his smirk she rolled her eyes thinking Chris was just trying to be a funny smartass. “What do you want Chris?”she spoke slightly annoyed. “No need to use that tone with me ma”he replied cockily moving slightly more towards her. “Christopher if you don’t tell me why you’re here I will willingly slam this door right in your face!”she snapped back. He raised his eyebrow at that witty remark. “Fine, fine I’ll tell you why I’m here if you stop being a cynic,” he chuckled. She didn’t look to impressed with that answer so he decided to finally tell her why he was mysteriously at her door at 5:40pm.

“I got forced to come and pick you up by Nick because Matt was out, is that a good answer?” He finally explained. “Right and how comes Nick didn’t tell me this before like he usually does when Matt picks me up, plus I could have walked,” She replied. “And in no way am I ready, so Chris just come in I’ll be like 20 minutes maximum.”she added on sighing, reluctantly opening the door letting the man in. As she turned to walk inside she had merely forgot her back side was on full display for Chris and anyone within a 10 metre range. Chris’ jaw dropped slightly at the free site in front of him, his hormones getting the best of his as his joggers began to tighten and his face flushed a slight red tinge. She turned to look at him. “You alright there Chris?”she asked in confusion. “U..uh yeah.. all good”he stuttered, looking down at the floor. At this point Y/N was confused Chris was never like this he’s usually loud and extremely annoying so she decided to brush it off her shoulder and get on with getting her stuff to head out. That wasn’t even the worst part now they both had to go upstairs so she could get her stuff, y/n was first to walk up the stairs Chris tried his hardest to not look at her ass but he just couldn’t help himself catching a glimpse of her ass and through the side of the shorts the orange panties she had decided to wear. “Fuck..”Chris mumbled to himself. “What was that Chris?”she looked over her shoulder at him. “Nothing.”he replied as they made it to her bedroom. Y/N decided it would be best to switch into some joggers for the ride to the house as it was definitely too cold for shorts. She quickly shoved her cigarettes,phone and some other stuff into a rucksack and made her way to Chris who stood leaning against her hallway wall phone in hand. The air was filled with sexual frustration even if neither of them could tell. “Chris we can go now.”she announced walking downstairs as Chris sheepishly followed behind as he was still painfully hard.

Once they were outside Chris faced towards Y/N. “C’mere ma.” He beckoned her over to him, she looked up at him as he grabbed his helmet slowly sliding it over her head. “Be better if you kept that on ma, can’t have you getting hurt!” He joked. There was that cockiness she remembered, She just nodded, as she slowly sat on the motorcycle behind Chris. “You know your gonna have to put your hands here ma?”he said pointing to around his waist. “I’m not doing that.”she replied shaking her head. “Yes you are or we’re not going anywhere,”he said, she just sat there staring at him obviously not impressed with what she was having to do. He slowly became impatient so instead of asking he just grabbed her hands and placed them on his waist. “Now I suggest you leave them there, ma.” He said, turning on the engine to his motorcycle and he began to drive off towards the house. The start of the trip was quiet Y/N sat in silence her hands still in the same place as they were when they first left, but a sneaky idea had come to mind. She slowly slid her hand down from Chris’ waist to his thigh, moving her index finger is circles. “Y/N?”he said sternly, he never called her by her first name it was always ma every time. But she ignored him still making tiny circles on his thigh, Chris’ cock was awfully hard now to the point who couldn’t take it. He sped up driving as fast as he could to the house slowing down as he got on his street. He pulled into the garage parking but before Y/N could go through the door he stopped her, pressing the button closing the garage door. “Ma, after what you did on the bike I suggest you do something about this.”he whisper spoke, as he pointed down to his boner. All y/n did was squeeze her thighs together she didn’t move almost frozen in place. He walked towards her tucking the loose hair behind her ears pulling her face forwards, her lips meeting his connecting perfectly. The kiss deepened tongues entwined together, this lasted around 2 minutes before chris pulled back his hands rubbing up and down her waist. “You sure you want this ma?”he asked. She nodded. “Words ma, I need words.”he replied. “Yes, Chris im sure.”she whispered, thighs clenched and eyes half open. He smiled a bit before looking at her asking for approval to undress her, she nodded this time he didn’t ask for words he was to impatient and began pulling her sweatpants down and taking her top of. Leaving y/n in her bra and undies, Chris groaned at the sight. “Can I take yours off?”she asked quietly. He just nodded, she began pulling Chris’ top over his head and pulling his joggers down. She bit her lip looking and the obvious bulge in Chris’ boxers. “I can’t wait anymore ma, I want you bent over my bike now.”he told her. She reluctantly bent over the bike her ass facing Chris. He slapped her ass, she moaned quietly in response. “You like that ma?” He asked smirking, but before she could even answer he slapped her ass a bit harder this time cause her to jolt slightly forward. “I’m gonna ask you to be quiet for me ma, can you do that for me yeah!”he whispered into her ear slowly pulling her orange panties down. She spread her legs a bit in response as Chris then pushed his boxers down, spitting on his hand pumping his dick a few times before aligning himself up. “You ready ma?” He whispered in her ear lustfully. She nodded, with that he pushed in leaving no time to adjust to his size. “Chris..fuck.”she moaned out, putting her hand behind her to brush it through the side of chris’ hair. He kept thrusting in her at the semi fast pace. As the garage filled with the sound of skin slapping, Chris’ groans and her moans. The aroma of sex filled the air as well as their noses. “Fuck your so tight ma, gonna make me cum if you keep squeezing me like that.”Chris groaned in her ear. “Chris.. fuck Im gonna.. cum”she cried out as the feeling of her slowly coming undone took over. Her legs shaking slightly and her eyes rolling to the back of her head.

“You think you can cum for me one more time ma?”he asked her softly.She nodded, this time Chris’ pace was a bit faster, y/n becoming even more of a moaning mess at the continuous feeling of Chris’ thrusting into her and the fact she had just came. His pace slowly became messed up as he became closer to his edge. “Fuck.. ma I’m gonna cum,”he groaned out gripping onto her ass. “Gonna fill you up ma”he whispered as he came undone filling y/n up with his cum. As they both stayed in place for a few minutes catching their breath, Chris slowly pulled out. “We should probably head in, before nick thinks something bad has happened.”Chris said putting his clothes back on, leaving y/n getting re-dressed. Y/N grabbed her phone, 1 new notifications from Chris.

Meet me later in my room and we can talk properly

ꜰɪɴɪᴛᴀ

That was honestly so fun to write if people do like it I’m kinda tempted to possibly make a part two or something!

Tiny taglist:

@freshsturns

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut

[kazemi-archive]

You Won’t Remember This

Pairing: Bodyguard!Matsukawa Issei x Reader

Word Count: ~4.1k

Genre: Fluff, Smut

CW:  language. tracking app used. drinking, partying. grinding, unwanted groping. kinda implied size kink? kinda dry humping?

Part Two of I Would-With No Question-Protect You With My Life

You hate him. Matsukawa that is. It isn’t that he’s a terrible person or anything like that. He’s not. He’s perfect. The perfect fucking bodyguard. And you hate it.

In just two weeks of being your bodyguard, you’ve already tried to put him through the ringer. In just two weeks he’s already taken more of your shit than any other bodyguard of yours had previously been able to handle. You’d disappeared on him, flirted with him, intentionally put yourself in harm’s way. You were all but throwing yourself at him, trying to get him to break, to quit, something. You were trying to test his limits, you wanted a reaction. The man didn’t even crack. He took everything you gave him in stride, an eye roll and a grumble was all he gave.

You hated him. And you hated that he was incredibly respectable too. Ignoring all your taunting. He protected you in the most miniscule ways, mundane things that he did without a second thought. He followed the goddamn sidewalk rule for god’s sake. You would be trying to balance along the curb, teetering on the edge of dander and his hand was there, encompassing your hip and drawing you to walk on the inside of the sidewalk while he took the position closer to the street. And his hands. His goddamn hands. You seemed to bump into them more than the edges and corners of things you usually did.

The worst part was-it was like he was doing it all without thinking. Like it was an instinct. You would look over at him every time he did something to protect you and he wouldn’t even be paying you any mind. Completely engaged in something else. It frustrated you to no end.

Usually you would save the tactic of completely ditching them for your last resort. You had resorted to using it on day four with Matsukawa. You’d disappeared during an event, intent on meeting up with your friends at a nearby bar. You thought you’d been successful, only to see him walk into your bar and realize that he’d downloaded a tracker app to your phone. You’d rambled and ranted about how that was entirely unnecessary, only to disappear again the next day. He’d found you again. You had deleted the app but had forgotten your tendency to post your outings on your socials. But he knew all your spots too. It was like he’d been studying you. Like he was an expert in you.

It took you nearly two weeks to finally lose him for more than two hours. Which brought you to today.

You had disappeared last night, never going home, instead finding yourself out on a binge with your friends. You hadn’t been sober all day, and had once again found yourself at a bar with your friends after the sun had set.

It was crowded in the bar and you’d found yourself pressed between your friends, laughing when the entrance caught your eye. You groaned as you saw Matsukawa enter the bar, his eyes scanning the crowd until they locked on you. He glared slightly when he saw you make your way to the bar, grabbing another drink, still downing it when he finally made his way to you.

“Hey Matsukawa.” You couldn’t help the smirk on your lips as you took in how annoyed he looked. Jaw set stern as he looked down at you, anger radiating off his muscled form. Really nice muscles if you did say so yourself. You let your eyes wander down expanse of his crossed arms until his voice drew your attention again.

“Where were you last night?” He asked, voice sending a shock through your chest. He sounded slightly worried, like he actually cared.

You faltered for a second before laughing it off. You waved down the bartender for another drink, turning away from Matsukawa to lean on the bar as you replied. “Been out, busy, having fun.” You sent him a sideways glance to watch his irritation grow, the response making a giddy feeling fill you up.

“Hey!” He snapped, snatching the drink from the bartender before it got you you. You rolled your eyes as you looked over at him. “Y/n. You know you’re not supposed to leave without me.”

You scoffed at that, your smirk growing a bit as you grabbed your drink back from him. “See, but you’re no fun, have a little fun, Mattsun.” You turned the thought over in your head, stepping away from the counter you had to rebalance yourself quickly. The counter made it easier for you to pretend like you were more sober than you were, but the way your vision was spinning gave away just how drunk you were. “I have an idea.” You giggled as you tipped your glass against your lips.

“No.” He answered immediately, before you even got the chance to say your idea.

You pouted at him, hand finding his wrist and trying to tug him closer to the crowd with you. “You haven’t even heard my idea yet, Mattsun.” You quickly downed the drink in your hand and dropped it on the counter as you stepped backwards.

His arm stretched across the space between the two of you, his body refusing to move towards yours. "That look in your eyes means nothing good."

You wiped the pout off your face and smirked instead. “Just want ya to come and dance with me Mattsun.” The nickname kept rolling off your lips, something that you’d only ever heard your driver and your brother call him. He had to stop himself from watching the way your lips formed the word.

He sighed, rolling his eyes at your incessant tugging, slurred pleas leaving your lips between giggles. “You can stay.” It was your first sign of weakness from him, the first crack, he gave in just a little. “I’m not dancing with you.” You took it. Laughing, you migrated back to your friends, pressing yourself against one of them quickly.

It was easy, normal even, to dance against your friends in the bar like this. Grinding against their bodies slightly as the alcohol flooded your veins. You might have been overdoing it this time, however, but the thought never truly crossed your mind. Your eyes kept flicking over to Matsukawa. He had migrated away from the bar and towards the wall, leaning against it, arms crossed and jaw set in stone.

He wouldn’t take his eyes off you. Couldn’t even if he wanted to. Your skirt was short, the sides cut out, it barely covered anything and neither did your shirt, barely covering your chest and leaving your back exposed. And he wasn’t the only one who noticed. You’d caught the eyes of many around you, some were your friends and some were strangers.

Your friends kept bringing you drinks and he sincerely wanted them to stop, but he was picking his battles. His current battle was not walking over and ripping you away from everyone else to take you home. You kept locking eyes with him, like you were now, while pressed against a man he didn’t recognize.

The man behind you had his hands on your hips, just above the cut outs in your skirt, fingers lingering close to the strings that held the front and back of your skirt together. You refused to look away from Matsukawa, your eyes lingering on the flex of his muscles as he watched you grind your hips against the man behind you who was clearly excited to have you there.

You stopped minding the man behind you, not even feeling his breath fanning against your neck as you watched Matsukawa’s eyes rake your form. They were watching how your hips moved, but his willpower was too strong to give in to the temptation you gave him as you tried to beckon him over. You’d almost forgotten that the man was behind you until his fingers dipped into the cuts of your skirt.

Matsukawa watched as your eyes widened, your concentration on him breaking as you tried to swat at the stranger’s hands. He nearly growled when the man behind you pulled you closer instead of letting you go. Kicking off the wall, Matsukawa quickly pushed through the crowd and beelined to you where you were snapping at the man behind you.

“I swear to god, take your hands off me. Now.” Your nails were scraping against his wrists.

Matsukawa just barely caught the man behind you laughing as the words slurred out of his lips. "Do you think I’m scared of a woman?" The man asked, just before you watched Matsukawa’s hand grab the stranger’s arm in an unforgiving grip.

You were quick to slink behind Matsukawa’s frame, his body hiding yours as his grip bruised your assailant. “You should be scared of me.” Your mouth parted slightly, hating the fuzzy feeling that grew in your stomach at the way Matsukawa growled out the threat. Your eyes widened as you realized that a brief thought had crossed your mind, shaking your head free of it, the dizziness coming back as you tuned out the men in front of you.

When Matsukawa released the man and shooed him off, his intention was to turn and grab you, to take you home. But as he turned, he realized that you were already gone. He groaned as he caught sight of you, now halfway across the room, tipping another glass against your lips as one of your friends encouraged you towards the stage.

You were laughing as you climbed on the stage. He glared as you leaned towards the pianist who was playing music for the bar. You whispered quickly in the man’s ear, a song request and smiled when the man cut his song short and picked up a new beat.

Matsukawa began to push his way through the crowd again, but the crowd was denser closer to the stage. Especially now, since there was something to watch. Two of your friends had joined you on stage and were encouraging you to dance. Your hands in your hair, your clothes revealing more skin as you swung your hips on stage to the song.

Matsukawa groaned in irritation as he finally made it to the edge of the stage. It took everything in himself to pry his eyes off your hips. He swallowed the lump in his throat when he finally caught your eye. You smirked as you beckoned him up with one finger only to have him shake his head, denying you. You shrugged and laughed as he looked worriedly around at all of the eyes on you up there.

He rolled his eyes when you turned your back on him again, crawling your way onto the piano to lay down. You laughed as people in the crowd whooped and hollered, encouraging you. You threw a few flirty glances at the crowd before locking eyes with Matsukawa. He looked so serious in the crowd you couldn’t help but bite your lip as you watched him. You kept your eyes on him as you arched your back off the piano, taking pride in the way that he seemed to tense more and his eyes raked down your body.

The song was over much too quickly for your liking, but you were laughing nonetheless when your friends came off the stage with you. You were giggling still when Matsukawa reached you, taking your new glass out of your hands as your friends were talking about going to another bar. You were about to agree to the plan when Matsukawa cut you off.

"Actually, we're leaving early, we have something to get to." His words were said in a definitive tone, one that you didn’t pick up right away through your drunken haze.

“What?” You shook your head, "no we don't-” you caught his pointed glance and groaned, “oh, okay fine.” You sighed and turned back to your friends. “I'll call you guys later." You were giggly as you said your goodbyes, pointing your steps towards the door, trying to get there before Matsukawa did, your irritation at him growing. You weren’t quite done partying but if he wanted you to leave your friends, you would do just that.

“Y/n, where are you going?” You rolled your eyes, your steps stuttering as you traveled away from the bar.

You cursed as you nearly fell, catching yourself on the wall. “Fuck off, Matsukawa.” You called back, shrieking slightly when you realized that he was next to you.

“Take off your heels.” He instructed, only for you to swat his hands away when he reached for you. He rolled his eyes when you tried to push away from him, falling only to be barely caught in time by him.

You whined as he lifted you easily into his arms, one tucking under your legs as the other wrapped your waist. Your face flushing hot as you felt his arms tighten around your form. “Wh-what are you doing!”

“I’m carrying you home.” You pushed at his arms, trying to get out of his grip and he rolled his eyes at you again. It was easy for him to manhandle your body, tossing you over his shoulder as he started to walk, his large hand covering the back of your thighs easily.

Your eyes widened as you clamped your thighs together, the rush of heat flooding into your core, embarrassing you. "Put me down!" You protested as you slammed your hands against his back, watching the ground under you move as he carried you towards where you assumed his car was.

He sighed and you could feel his hair brush against the skin of your hip as he shook his head at you. "Would you quit beating me up!" You froze and whined lightly when his hands roughly grabbed each of your upper thighs, unintentionally letting his fingers tuck themselves between them. Your whole body was hot by the time he dropped you down in the front seat of his car. Your brain fuzzy and all-consumed by him as he shut your door and rounded to his own side.

Your next idea you would definitely come to regret. If you were sober, the idea would have stayed an idea, but when Matsukawa leaned over you and buckled your seatbelt, you unintentionally leaned closer to him. “Don’t be mad at me Mattsun.” You pouted, watching as he refused to look at you, jaw set as he started the car and began to drive. “Where are we going?” You giggled, leaning across the center console as you tried to drag your hand against his chest.

He was quick to grab your hand and pull it away from himself and shove it back on your side. “Stop.” He pushed the words out through clenched teeth and you pouted at him. “I’m taking you home.”

You giggled a little, smiling as you  watched your hand find his bicep again. “You can take me to bed if you want.” He sighed and glanced at you quickly, taking in your glazed over eyes and your bitten lips as you raked your gaze down his form.

“God I can’t let your parents see you like this.” You were giggling and trying to rub down his arm but he just stared straight ahead. When he stopped at the next light, he was quick to remove your hands, putting them and your upper body completely back onto your side of the car.

“Why are you so mad at me?” You asked quietly, another pout settling into your features.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He snapped, turning away from you again to face the road as he drove. “What you’re doing is fucking dangerous. Why would you do it?” He growled and you tilted your head in confusion, wondering why he was so worked up when none of your other bodyguards had ever cared like that. “Do you know how many fucking people would kill to touch you?”

He was still talking but you’d lost your focus, people would kill to touch you. You were staring at the way his hands tightened around the wheel of the car. You didn’t even notice the way you but your lip, his hands made the wheel seem small but really, they were just so big. Everything about him was big, actually. Your eyes flicked down slightly and you clenched your thighs a bit, you would bet everything about him was big…

You moved your hand toward him again but he caught it before you could touch him. You took the chance to keep his hand in your grasp. He let you keep it, placating your apparent need to touch him as he tried to drive. You turned his hand over in your grip, fingers tracing the lines along his large palm. You were entranced by it, tuning out his voice. Your hands moved on your own, pressing your palm against his to compare the size difference between the two.

“And what about you, Mattsun?” You glanced back up at him, missing the way he quickly jerked his head to face front again, having stopped his talking to watch the way you fit his hand against your own. He cleared his throat roughly, waiting for you to clarify yourself. “Do you want to touch me?”

Matsukawa swore he stopped breathing for a second, his eyes flicking momentarily to the way you looked up at him from across the car. His lips formed the word before he had the chance to stop it. “Yes.” It was an admission he spoke like a guilty man. One that he knew he would never make if he wasn’t nearly certain that you wouldn’t remember this night when you woke up in the morning.

The confession, however, made a smile grow on your lips, your hands dragging his down to rest on your bare thigh. “You can touch me if you want.” You enticed, parting your legs and trying to pull his hand between them.

He was quick to pull it out of your grasp and place it back on the wheel, a safe place for him to have it. “Not like this.” It was a mumble that you could barely make out, and his lack of action confused you.

You were still trying to get his attention back when he pulled into a parking lot that you didn’t recognize. The building was a little run down and you realized, as Matsukawa got out of the car, that this must have been where his apartment was. “Look Mattsun, we’re already at your place.” You whined as he guided you into the elevator, pressing the third floor. You had attached your body to his arm, your words slurring more than they had been at the beginning of your drive. “You can just take me to bed, Mattsun. I want you to.”

He was trying not to look at you, blatantly ignoring the way that you were staring up at him, begging him to touch you. He denied your request again, watched as the doors opened and guided you down the hall towards his apartment door.

“Do you not want me?” Your voice was smaller now, insecurity creeping into your words as your steps faltered, watching him slip his key into the lock.

He sighed and his movements were blurry when you suddenly found yourself pressed between him and the door. Your chin was gripped in his hand, forcing you to look him in the eyes and your breath hitched, you hadn’t been this close to him since the kiss you’d shared two weeks prior.

“Let me make myself very clear.” You swallowed hard as you focused on him, his face perfectly clear with how close he was, despite your otherwise blurry vision. “Are you listening?” You nodded the best you could in his grip. “Don’t mistake my inaction as a lack of desire.” You blinked and missed the way his eyes flicked to your lips briefly. “I want you so badly it pains me, but I want you to want me.” You opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off. “I want you to want me sober.” You subconsciously flicked your eyes back and forth between the two of his. “You’re trashed right now, you’ll forget all of this by tomorrow.” He sighed, his grip on your chin loosening slightly but neither of you moved yet. “And the first time I touch you,” he let his eyes drag down your body and you could feel yourself shrinking under his gaze, your skin heating up with the way he seemed to eat you alive with his eyes, “I want you to remember it.” You tried and failed to suppress the whimper that clawed its way out of your throat. “I want you to remember every touch, every feeling, every word and sound that leaves my lips.” His lips, you were staring at them now, less than an inch away from your own and dangerously enticing.

You could feel yourself leaning towards him, wanting to connect your lips, but the wall behind you fell away. You gasped as he caught you again, guiding you through the now open door and walking into his apartment. “Mattsun.” You whined, your confidence restored as you tugged on his arm.

“You can have the room, I’ll sleep on the couch.” He wouldn’t even look at you as he sat down on the couch to take off his shoes.

Your hands were on his shoulders in a moment, pushing them back against the couch as you swung your leg over him, settling yourself onto his lap. His hands instinctively found your hips, pulling you into a safer position without thinking. Your hands, however, were busy dragging your top off of your frame. You smiled when you watched the blush creep up his cheeks at the sight of your body. He quickly turned his face away from you. “Please Mattsun, just touch me.” You were whining and trying to grab his face so he would look at you again, liking the way your body felt under his eyes.

“You’re drunk.” He whispered, his cheeks hot against the palms of your hands. He struggled to keep in his groan when your hips ground down on him. He squeezed his eyes shut and his grip on your hips tightened. “This is a bad idea, you need to stop.”

You huffed in annoyance and let go of his face, your hands coming to his and dragging them to where the bottom of your skirt had ridden up. “Mattsun,” your voice was whiny and slurring as you ground against him again, a small moan leaving your mouth when the friction felt just right, “want you so bad.” You heard his breath hitch and could feel him harden under you as his eyes zoned in on where his fingers were against your skin.

“God,” he mumbled, the realization hitting that you had spent the whole night without any panties under your too-short skirt. His chest rose and fell heavily as he became entranced by the movement of your hips. “You need to stop.” His voice seemed dazed, strained as he fought against the last bit of his self-restraint.

“Wa-” you whined a bit, your nails digging painfully into his biceps, “want you in me Mattsun.” He squeezed his eyes shut again, his jaw and hands clenching as he tried to ignore the pleasure sparking through his body as you rutted against him. “You can have me. However you want me.”

He let out a string of curses as he felt his pants get tighter, dangerously close to cumming in his pants, something he’d yet to have ever done. “You know where I want you?” You hummed, your eyes rolled back a little from pleasure, a smile on your face thinking you’d won. "I want you riiight here." You squeaked when his grip returned to your hips and you were suddenly removed from his lap and sat down on the couch. Your eyes flew open and your vision cleared to see him now standing above you, a clear bulge in his pants and a heavy blush spreading from his cheeks down to his neck. "As soon as we’re both sober, we can do every dirty little thing you ever dreamed of." It was a promise he knew he would break, but with the way you both were panting, he couldn’t bear to say anything else.

You looked up at him and he had to look away, he swore he could almost see your heart breaking in your eyes. “Mattsun,” you started quietly, your arms coming up to cover your chest defensively. He didn’t let you finish before walking towards his bathroom, needing a breath away from you and the temptation he almost couldn’t fight.

a/n i’m obsessed with him. thnx

TAGLIST: OPEN

#𓇻 Bodyguard

[whorekneecentral]

Fingering them but stopping every time they make a noise + "spank me then" with max vestappen please and thank you

this is literally just porn 👍🏽// prompt: "spank me then"

Head tipped back, hands gripping the sheets underneath you, bitting your bottom lip so hard you probably drew blood. Max has been edging you relentlessly; you're on the edge, hanging off the fucking cliff was more like it and he wasn't giving in.

His fingers curled, hitting right where you wanted it. "Ma-" you stopped yourself, knowing if you even made a sound, he'd stop too and that, he did.

"What was that?" He asked, looking up at you. You shook your head in response.

Max moved his fingers again, pulling yet another sound from you. "Do that again and I'll have to spank you." He muttered, knowing you'd never actually take him up on that.

He always halfheartedly threatens you with that but he never actually does it.

"Spank me then." You say, eyes locked with his blue ones.

There was a look in Max's eyes that you've never seen before; Lust? Anger? Something in between? You weren't exactly sure but before you knew it, the man has you turned over and on your stomach.

He pulls you by your hips; ass up, face down.

You look over your shoulder to see his hand lifting and then it drops, landing on down on your ass with a loud smack. 

He does it once more, “count.” 

Max's hand came down a little harder, "I said count. Start from one.” He tells you, rubbing along the red spot on your ass. 

Max gives you a moment before smacking your ass once more. He could feel you shifting on his lap, squeezing your thighs together harder with each smack. 

“That was?” He asks, rubbing on your bruised ass. A red imprint of his hand on your skin, making him smile as he waits for you to answer. “Ten,” you mumble, wincing when he shifts you onto your knees in front of him. 

You look up at your boyfriend, "you're too good for me," he smiles, leaning down to kiss you.

"Mhm, I know." You joked, leaning into him.

#max verstappen #max verstappen smut #max verstappen x reader

[colormepurplex2]

In Memory of Him | It's Cold In Here

↳ Florist!Taehyung x Artist!f.Reader ⤜ Non-Idol, Late Husband's Best Friend ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 13,558 ⚠️ Mild language, death/loss of a loved one, deep depression, high anxiety, loads of guilt, hidden feelings, realizations, hurt feelings, repressed feelings, hurt/comfort

Next Chapter⇾ (coming soon!) ◅ Back to story masterlist

With trembling fingers, you smooth out the letter that you found attached to a bundle of flowers on your doorstep.

To the love of my life, For after the funeral Take a deep breath, baby, I know it’s not easy. Even as I sit and write this, I can feel your energy in the next room. You’re always such a worrier, I’m sorry I’ve added to that. It’ll all be better soon, I promise. But, I know you and I know that you’ll pull away, you’ll cut yourself off…and we can’t have that, now can we? You have to keep going if we’re to stay connected even after I’m gone.

So, here’s the first of a collection of some things that you can hold and look back on when the storm starts to roll in. There are only so many words in existence to describe what you mean to me. So, instead of words, I want you to remember these feelings: Warmth - like the sun on your face while you read a great book Satisfaction - the way you sigh softly after a good, lazy day in bed Contentment - waking up with a smile on your face every morning Peace - that moment of quiet before the rain starts, when the scent of petrichor filters in These are all the things you’ve brought into my life the last seven years. I’ve never been able to look at the sun, sleeping, smiles, or storms the same. Never did I imagine I’d meet and marry such a beautiful, kind-hearted soul with a genuinely unique outlook on life. I never had to be reminded to smile because it just came so naturally whenever you were around. You have brought so much light into my world and gave me the best years of my life. You also gave me Sujin, the perfect little replica of myself even if you think he looks more like you than me (I secretly agree, but that’s not something I’ll admit outloud). When I look at our wonderful son, I’m reminded of the beauty that first drew me to you all those years ago. Being his father is the second greatest achievement of my life, the first being making you fall madly in love with me…don’t laugh, you know it’s true. Many people see things in black and white, a beginning and an end…but our life isn’t like that. We’re full of color and everything in between. You’ve supported me at my best and have loved me at my worst. Everything good in my life is because of you. I know you’ll always love me, and I know it won’t be easy once I’m gone, but I need you to promise me you’ll continue to wake up with that smile on your face and never forget how the sun feels or how beautiful the quiet before the storm is. I need my light, my girl, to keep going. Be that guiding light so I know exactly where you are in the world as I watch over you and Sujin. We knew forever wasn’t guaranteed, that’s just the way life is, right? This doesn’t mean it’s over, not by a long shot. You still have so much more to give, so much more love to offer.  I know you’d never forget about me, that’s not what this letter is for—it’s not a reminder of me, it’s a reminder to live, love, and keep shining. There are more where this came from, Taehyung has them and knows what to do, but not until you’re ready for them. I love you so much, never stop living—for me, for Sujin…for you. Love forever, Your Yejun

The letter crumples in your fist, the bundle of hibiscus and lavender it was attached to forgotten on the step between your feet as you bury your face in the crook of your elbow and scream. It’s better that way—the symbolism of the hibiscus flower on a letter from Yejun is a punch to the gut when he’s no longer here. Eternity? Bullshit. The sound is muffled into the thick wool of your coat but no less filled with agony. As if the day wasn’t hard enough, everything went belly-up when you found the flowers and the letter on your door step. You choke on a breath of air as you try to control yourself.

“Yejun.” His name drips from your trembling lips, absorbed into your jacket sleeve like your cries. “I miss you so much. Why did you have to leave us?”

A hand on your shoulder makes you flinch, jerking away from the potential comfort, despite it being exactly what you need right now. You crowd against the wall, knees knocking into one another as you huddle in on yourself where you’re sitting in the stairwell outside your apartment door.

“Hey, hey, hey, come here,” a strong, soothing voice coos. Your limbs protest weakly for a moment, your heart raging with guilt at the prospect of finding solace in another man’s arms—even if that man is Taehyung, your now late husband's best friend—but the desperate need for someone to hold your pieces together wins out. You fear if you let yourself truly break, you’ll never be able to be made whole again. You frantically launch into those open arms, keening a wail into the solid chest between them. “Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”

💔💔💔

Two years later

“Mommy, are we going to Uncle Tae’s house today?” Sujin asks from behind you, where he’s strapped into his booster seat.

You glance in the rearview mirror, angling yourself so you catch a glimpse of his smile as he stares out the window, patiently awaiting your answer. It’s gotten easier over the last two years to look at him without growing weepy. He looks like and reminds you so much of Yejun. They have the same chestnut-colored eyes and floppy midnight tresses. When he smiles, the tiny dimple on his left cheek is a near mirror to his father’s and something that your eyes seek out every time he flashes you a grin. Little pieces of his father that fill the gaps in your heart.

“Did you not want to stay at Grandma’s tonight? That’s what you said you wanted yesterday,” you remind him.

Sujin hums like he’s thinking hard about your question. “Well, I did want to go to Grandma’s, but I also want to see Uncle Tae, and plus, he always has good ice cream. All Grandma has is boring vanilla.”

“How about we see if Uncle Tae wants to hang out this weekend? I think Grandma would be sad if you decided not to stay with her tonight.”

In truth, you’d also be a bit disappointed if Sujin changed his mind. Being only four when his father passed, he doesn’t remember Yejun much, mostly knows him from photos and stories he’s heard. So, it’s not surprising he’s not able to put together that today is the second anniversary of his father’s passing. He doesn’t know that tonight isn’t just about your mom getting a visit. It’s also about you having an evening to grieve without being under your son's watchful and inquisitive eye.

Though maybe you’re wrong, perhaps he knows more than you think as he responds softly, “It’s okay, Mommy, I’ll stay with Grandma so you can go visit Daddy.”

If it wasn’t for tightening your grip on the steering wheel, you might have driven right off the highway. “You know what today is?” you ask hesitantly once your initial shock passes.

“Of course I do,” Sujin says with another smile, his dimple catching in the afternoon sunlight coming in through the car window. “I might not remember him, but I could never forget him.” It’s a wonder there aren’t more six-year-old poets, as what he just said is easily the most eloquent thing ever uttered by a child. Your heart swells, and you feel that telltale burn in the back of your nose and behind your eyes as you blink away the flood of emotions threatening to spill into the open.

You nod, taking a deep breath. “That’s right. He’d be so proud of you and how much you’ve grown.”

“He’d be proud of you, too, Mommy.”

It’s another blow, directly targeting the cracks already forming in your armor. Fissures zip and snap over the surface of the wall you’ve spent the last two years building. “Thank you, buddy. I love you,” you manage to get past the lump in your throat. 

The rest of the car ride home is spent with Sujin telling you about his day at school and how one of his classmates snuck a salamander into the classroom after recess. You hum, haw, and laugh as he recounts the way the class reacted to the discovery of the amphibian.

It makes you feel lighter, listening to his words and hearing the clear whimsy his heart possesses as the salamander suddenly becomes a dragon and Sujin, the fearless knight that saved the teacher—the damsel in distress—by scooping it up and putting it in an empty lunch box.

“She said since I was so brave and such a good helper that I could go outside with Mr. Kim, the science teacher, and help him release it back into the wild,” he proudly proclaims. “Did you know salamanders like water? Mr. Kim said they’re kind of like frogs even though they look more like lizards.” Sujin continues on, spouting off facts he learned about the salamander from his science teacher.

It’s a short drive from the school to your apartment. You’ve often thought about moving, using some of the life insurance money from Yejun to buy you and Sujin a lovely place outside the city. But, your mom lives just a floor up, and it’s been convenient having someone so close to look after Sujin when you need them, like tonight.

Having your mom close by, not just as a babysitter but also as an emotional support outlet, has been a blessing and far outweighs the other feelings—the seemingly endless void that now lingers in place of your late husband. With that, though, you can’t help looking at your small apartment as more like a preservation of memories. It was the first place you and Yejun moved into after getting married. It’s the place you both brought Sujin home to when he was born. It’s still filled with so many memories…you’re not sure you want to leave—at least, not yet.

The building has no elevator, just several winding flights of steps right up the middle. “Go on up to Grandma’s. I’ll stop by with dinner before I leave. Remember, homework first before you play.”

Sujin gives you a beaming smile and nods his head in understanding before vaulting up the stairs, his strong six-year-old legs carrying him far faster than your own. You watch him disappear up the stairs—the last flash of his face so reminiscent of Yejun racing up those very same steps the day you moved in—followed by the familiar sound of your mother’s voice drifting out over and down the stairwell as she welcomes him into her space—a safe space, away from the looming cloud of darkness over you.

Knowing he’s occupied and cared for, you allow your mask to slip just a little. The weight on your shoulders eases as you let the emotional fatigue roll in and replace your typically calm and collected demeanor. Even after two years, it’s not gotten any easier when this particular day comes. The holidays are hard, sure. There are plenty of days where you find yourself feeling like it’s too much…but nothing truly compares to this day. It’s not filled with happy memories the way those other days are. It’s nothing but darkness. There is a constant ache in your chest, which is amplified when the calendar turns over, and you find yourself once again reliving that fateful day all over again.

You spent nearly every waking hour sitting beside Yejun, the uncomfortable, stiff hospital chair becoming your permanent perch. The ventilator was always loud, but the punching swoosh grew to be comforting because you knew that meant he was still there. All the lines and tubes hooked up to him made it look like a scene from one of those sci-fi films he enjoyed making you watch with him. Yejun was so full of life when you first met, many years before. But, the image stuck in your mind—the one you can’t seem to get rid of—is of him with sallow cheeks and pale, greyish lips, drained of life.

It’s weird to think of watching someone die. But that’s precisely what you did over the six months Yejun was in the hospital. The disease moved quickly, the cancer stealing your husband away bit by bit, and you were powerless to stop it. That’s probably one of the worst parts, the helpless feeling that no matter what you do, you can’t prevent it from happening. No amount of prayer, begging, or screaming would change it. He’d still die, just the same. Day by day, the best parts of the man you loved vanished, and by the end—you feel guilty even thinking the thoughts, so you push them out of your head. 

After unlocking the door, you step into the quiet space of your apartment. Your shoes join the ones discarded by the door before you drop your purse on the small console table against the wall and make your way across the living room to the hall leading to the bedrooms. Sujin’s room is the first door. You peek inside to see that he had made up his bed before school this morning. You make a mental note to grab one of his chocolate popsicles from the freezer before dropping off dinner tonight. He deserves a little treat for being such a good kid.

The small single bathroom sits between Sujin’s room and the larger of the two bedrooms, the one you shared with Yejun for almost five years. You haven’t changed any of the decor. Everything is the same as it always has been, right down to the pillow on Yejun’s side of the bed. It took months before you mustered the courage to wash the pillow case and cried the entire time you stripped the pillow and plopped it in the washer.

The pillow was small fish compared to the closet. Going through all of Yejun’s clothes nearly took you out. Thankfully, Taehyung was there to help. You weren’t the only one that lost someone two years ago today. Taehyung and Yejun grew up together and worked together for the last dozen years, starting out as teens together at Taehyung’s parents' florist shop. They are—were—as close as brothers, and not just for the fact that Taehyung’s parents took Yejun in when his parents both passed, but because of their unbreakable bond—a bond nearly as strong as the one you had with Yejun.

Taehyung has been there for you whenever you’ve needed him since Yejun’s passing. All it takes is a phone call or a text message, and he drops everything for you. You try not to take advantage of it because you don’t want him sucked into your empty void any more than he already is. No grown man should be attached to a woman like that, especially when he has no obligation for it.

But, you must admit, it’s nice knowing he’s there…especially today. This is the one day of the year that you know you don’t have to text or call Taehyung for him to show up. His one promise to you. He’ll be there, waiting for you at the cemetery, just like he was last year.

You pull off your oversized t-shirt and worn jeans covered in splotches of paint from your time in the studio today. Once a well-known local artist, you haven’t been able to create anything worthwhile since Yejun passed. He would always joke about being your one true muse. It seems he wasn’t wrong. Everything you’ve been able to create in the last two years feels wrong, like it’s missing something.

The life insurance you received from Yejun has been more than enough to keep you and Sujin afloat. However, you feel like a failure having even to touch that money, even if it’s just to pay the bills. If you could just get your life together, you’d be able to provide for yourself and Sujin the way you once did—before everything happened. Shoving that line of thinking away, you focus on the here and now, just getting through the next handful of hours.

A quick shower later, and you’re dressed in a warm sweater and a clean pair of jeans with thick wool socks. It’s cold, winter having well and truly taken hold outside, but when the sun goes down, the bite from the wind grows more bitter. Grabbing the large, lidded bowl of beef stew you had cooking in the slow cooker all day. You wrap it in a dish towel to keep from burning your hands on the hot sides, snag a popsicle for Sujin, and make the short trip upstairs to your mom’s place.

“Hey, sweetheart,” your mom greets you when she opens the door. She’s gotten a lot more grey in her hair in the last year or so. The steel-colored strands stand out against her temples, framing her strong but still soft face. You used to think she looked too austere, but then you realized that was just the permanent mark of motherhood and time.

“Hi, Mom. Did Sujin get his homework done?” You follow your mom in, shutting and locking the door behind you as she ambles into the kitchen on the other side of the living room. Her apartment is a near mirror of your own, her second bedroom set up for Sujin as well.

“He finished a bit ago and wanted to break out the paints. Was nattering on about some sort of lizard, I think. He wanted to try to paint it,” she explains, putting the tea kettle on without needing to ask. Peppermint tea with a dollop of honey can fix even the worst of woes in her eyes. She’ll insist you have some just as she has any other time she can feel your darkness crowding in. You’ve grown to appreciate your mother's intuition, both for yourself and your son's sake.

“There was an incident involving a student bringing in a salamander at school, it seems. Sujin helped the teacher and was allowed to go out with Namjoon—Mr. Kim—to release it.” You recall the conversation in the car, your mother chuckling softly when you tell her about the salamander turning into a dragon.

She busies herself, packing the tea steeper with her own blend of mint tea. Tending the small garden of herbs and spices that she keeps on the fire escape off the living room, is how she spends most of her days since she retired a few years ago. Even in winter, she keeps a small plastic greenhouse over them, opening it just enough to care for them each day. “So, you’re on a first-name basis with that science teacher now?” she asks. You can tell she’s lightly probing, trying to figure out if there is anything more between you and ‘Mr. Kim’.

“I met him at the beginning of the year when we had parent-teacher meetings. He insisted I call him Namjoon, that’s all, Mom.”

Humming, she grabs the kettle just before it begins to whistle. “Still, he’s nice?” she asks, casting you a glance over her shoulder.

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, wishing she’d not try to go down this path of questioning. You know she means well, but you’re just…you’re not ready to think about those things.

“He’s nice enough, Mom, I guess. It was just a slip of the tongue. I’m used to greeting him at drop-off in the mornings. It’s not—I don’t, it’s just being cordial, y’know? I’m not ready…” you trail off, hoping your mom picks up on what you’re trying to say so you don’t actually have to say it; not today.

Her free hand goes to her mouth, covering her frown. “Oh, sweetheart, I didn’t mean—you know I’d never, not like that. I’m sorry. Forgive an old fool for her loose words.”

“It’s okay, Mom, really,” you offer with a tight smile as you set the stew on the counter and pop the popsicle you brought for Sujin in the freezer.

She sets down the tea, the cup slightly trembling on the tiny saucer she serves it on. “I made some pajeon to go with the stew. It’s warming in the oven. Are you going to stay for dinner?” she asks, seeing that you need to move on from the previous subject.

You settle on one of the chairs at her small dining table, pick up the tiny teacup, and blow across the surface before taking a tentative sip. The mint is a cooling contrast to the heat of the liquid, coating your throat with a soothing sensation. The blooming sweetness of the honey lingers on your tongue, helping combat the intense punch of the minty flavor. It’s comforting. Reminds you of home.

“I’m not all that hungry. You and Sujin enjoy it. You’re sure you’re okay taking him to school tomorrow?” She gives you a fond smile and nods. “I’ll pick him up on my way home and we’ll come have dinner.”

“That’s fine, sweetheart.”

You finish off the tea, suppressing a grimace as it goes down a little too warm and nearly scalds your throat. The sun will be completely down soon, and you’d like to get to the cemetery before it’s too dark out. “I should get going. Just going to say hi to him real quick.”

Your mom watches you stand. Her eyes are hyper-focused on your face. “Okay, sweetheart,” she says slowly. It’s clear she wants to say more, but you’re glad she doesn’t push.

The room your mom has set up for Sujin has a small bed pushed into one corner, leaving the rest of the space for him to play—unlike his room at your place, which has a writing desk and dresser taking up the majority of the play space. He’s never complained, though, choosing to get creative with the small room he does have. “Hey, buddy, Grandma said you’re painting. Can I see?”

You lean on the door jamb, peering into the room. The easel Sujin is using is angled away from the door. All you can see is smears of bright color peeking around the edge of the canvas.

His bright eyes meet yours as he grins extra wide. “It’s not done yet, but of course you can see it.”

Stepping in and around the easel frame, you take in the canvas covered in paint. When your mom said he was going to paint the salamander, you knew there was a possibility of said ‘lizard’ being portrayed as a dragon as it was in Sujin’s story in the car. But what you didn’t expect were the characters surrounding the dragon. You count them, six in total. The brunette woman at the top of the castle tower is clearly Sujin’s teacher, Mrs. Min. Sujin himself is astride the dragon, and who you think is Namjoon stands in a corner near some trees, his large-frame glasses are what lead you to believe that’s who it is. The other three characters are where you’re a bit lost.

“Who are these people?” you ask, gesturing to the other feminine figure framed by two men; one with unruly black hair and the other with small angel wings extending from his shoulders. It dawns on you the moment you ask.

“That’s you, Daddy, and Uncle Tae, of course,” Sujin proudly states. “You were in the tower with Mrs. Min. I’m rescuing her, and Uncle Tae is rescuing you while Daddy guides him.”

You’re not sure what to say. But you can’t help looking at your son in a different light. He’s only six, but in moments like this, you feel like his soul is older and wiser than yours. “It’s lovely,” you finally say, because it truly is, and everything else you could say would definitely start the waterworks, and there will be enough of that later. “I’ll be back tomorrow to get you. Be good for Grandma. There’s a treat for you in the freezer, but only after dinner, okay?” You feel like you’re running away—and maybe you are, but the darkness creeps in just a little bit further the more you look at his painting.

“Yes, ma’am,” Sujin beams at you sweetly. He lifts his chin, angling a cheek in your direction for a kiss. You plant one there, throwing an arm around his back for a quick squeeze, too. “Love you, Mommy.”

“Love you, too, buddy,” you murmur, shoving down the suffocating feeling bubbling in your chest—just need to make it a few more hours.

💔💔💔

The cemetery is about an hour's drive from your place in the city. Yejun grew up in the countryside, and the columbarium where he’s interred is at the cemetery closest to his and Taehyung’s childhood home. It’s a quiet drive, a typical Tuesday evening if it were any other week. You don’t even bother with music, haven’t in the last two years, preferring to just soak in the quiet and try to center yourself.

As you pull into the parking area outside the gate to the grounds, you spot Taehyung’s black SUV. He’s standing beside it, leaning against the driver's side door with his chin tipped down below the line of the thick scarf wrapped around his neck. Your headlights swing across his vehicle, illuminating him in the process as you park.

You take your time climbing out of your car, casting fleeting glances in his direction while you gather your courage and resolve. He’s wearing a thick grey-colored tweed coat that covers him to the knees, and khaki slacks lead down to shiny brown loafers. His hair is windswept, the fluffy waves moving across his forehead with every gust of chilly air.

“Hey,” you say as you swing open your door and step out. He catches your eye over the roof of your car and gives you a soft smile.

“Good evening. Drive okay?”

You nod. “Not too much traffic, which is always nice.”

“You should have let me come and pick you up.” It’s the same thing he said last year, to which you decline politely just the same as well.

“Thanks, but I enjoy the drive. Gives me time to think.”

His eyes flick over you, taking you in from head to toe. There is understanding clear on his face. “Shall we?” He gestures toward the entrance gate. You notice a small bundle of flowers held in his other hand that’s hanging by his side. “Oh, this is for you.” It surprises you when Taehyung offers you the flowers, having thought he was bringing them to leave in Yejun’s vase.

You take the offered cluster, automatically bringing it to your nose and giving it a delicate sniff. It’s hard to smell the fragrance in the cold, but as you peer down at the flowers and take in the deep purple and soft pink, the scent of lavender and hibiscus filters through as if on a memory. It’s a combination that reminds you painfully of Yejun, as this was always his go-to whenever he would bring you home flowers from the shop after work.

“Thank y—“ your polite words cut off as you hear the distinct crackle of paper as you shift the bundle of flowers between your hands. “What’s this?” you ask, holding the flowers up until you see the small envelope attached to the hemp string holding the bunch together.

“A note,” Taehyung responds slowly as if he’s trying to decide if that’s all he’ll say. “Perhaps wait until we’re settled to read it?”

You finger the crisp fold of parchment, wondering. “Okay, yeah,” you agree, chalking it up to most likely being a grievance note from Taehyung, and it might be awkward for you to read it right now in front of him.

The cemetery typically closes at sundown, but Taehyung has access as the gardener. When he and Yejun took over Taehyung’s parents' floral shop, they expanded the business to include landscaping for local companies and establishments. The cemetery is one such establishment they took on. He produces a key from his pocket, unlocking the small pedestrian gate that must have been locked up not too long ago, judging by the sun barely having dipped below the horizon.

“Moojin left about ten minutes before you pulled up,” Taehyung explains casually, confirming the thought you just had. “It’ll just be us, so we can take as much time as we need.”

Maybe you should feel bad that Taehyung gives you preferential treatment and access to the cemetery after hours, but it’s hard to care about that when other, darker feelings have you clutched so tightly. The walk to the columbarium is relatively short, being one of the newer buildings erected within the grounds just some twenty years ago or so.

“The trees are doing well, even in the winter,” you note, nodding toward the row of young pines along the fence line. It was one of the last projects Yejun worked on with Taehyung before he became ill.

“He’d be able to tell you all the properties of the tree that make it sustainable during this time of the year,” Taehyung responds, his voice carrying notes of sadness. Yejun doesn’t come up much in conversation between the two of you, most things not needing to be said, merely understood without a spoken word. So, it’s surprising and endearing to actually hear Taehyung talk about him, especially now.

You smile, knowing he’s right. “With enough scientific jargon to make you go cross-eyed trying to keep up, too.”

That earns you a soft laugh from Taehyung. “And he wouldn’t even realize it until you’re so lost you can’t even pretend to have understood.”

“I miss that,” you whisper with a sigh, your warm breath misting lightly in the cold.

Taehyung slips his arm through yours, hooking his elbow around the crook of your arm. “Me, too.”

💔💔💔

Taehyung

It’s never easy, watching the way you suffer through your emotions. Taehyung knows you try to hide them, and sometimes you’re successful. But others…like right now, he can read you as clear as a bright spring sky. Only instead of pastel blues, pinks, and yellows, you’re a stark monochrome of Pantone grey. Just as clear, but decidedly less alive. He hates it. Knowing just how vibrant of a person you once were. When Yejun left your life, so, too, did the color, it seems. Leeched away with the slow death of your husband. It’s a cruel fate, Taehyung has decided, and it’s one you never deserved. Yejun also knew this. He saw this in the way you mourned at his bedside, even before he was gone. It’s why Yejun made Taehyung promise to take care of you, to never let you forget how to smile.

As more time passes, Taehyung isn’t sure whether or not he’s done a good job by Yejun’s request. Not when the dark circles around your eyes seem to get more permanent every time Taehyung sees you. It’s why he brought the letter—the next letter. He’s curious if you remember the first one, the one that came the day of Yejun’s funeral; the one that had you crawling into Taehyung’s arms for the first time, seeking the comfort you knew was there.

That’s happened a few times in the two years since Yejun now. Any time you begin to fray at the edges and unravel a bit too quickly, Taehyung’s been there, weaving you back together the best he can. It might not be pretty, but a patchwork quilt is better than shredded rags, he likes to think. He hopes, at least.

“Are you warm enough?” Taehyung asks, realizing your arm is trembling around his. The jacket you’re wearing is far too thin, meant more for warding off spring rain showers than winter chills. Your lips are formed into a thin, bloodless line as if you’re trying to keep your teeth from chattering, and your brow is pinched.

The lift of your shoulder is subtle, dismissive and nonchalant. “I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not. Here,” Taehyung insists, pulling you to a halt on the walking path. “Take this.” He shrugs out of his jacket, draping it over the thinner trench you’re wearing over your sweater. You instantly relax, a soft sigh misting the air in front of your mouth.

“Thank you. I forget how cold it gets out here at night,” you mumble, encouraging Taehyung to continue walking toward the entrance to the columbarium, where Yejun’s memorial awaits. “Are you sure you’ll be okay without it?” Your eyes are round and glassy when you look up at him, the moonlight overhead reflecting in their depths.

The thick sweater Taehyung has on paired with his wool scarf is enough to stave off the wintery bite, but what warms him the most is seeing your eyes flash with a brief flicker of life when you snuggle into the depths of his jacket, bringing the tweed collar up around your neck after he assures you he’s fine without it.

Your feet shuffle, your stride slowing as you approach the columbarium. Taehyung can feel your hesitancy. The air around you is suffocating and full of static, something Taehyung wants desperately to help dispel.

“Come on. Together.” Taehyung offers you his hand, splaying his fingers wide in invitation. You lick your lips, eyes flicking between Taehyung’s face and his offered hand. Finally, you sag a little and slip your fingers in between his.

Your hand is soft and delicate in his. Taehyung has always admired your ability as an artist, being able to take your hands and a simple tool like a paintbrush and create something profound and breathtaking. Some might argue that what Taehyung does is also a form of art, but he swears it’s nothing compared to the pure magic you create. He’s found himself under your spell more than once, entranced by your art.

Even the works you’ve created in the last two years, the things you keep hidden away in your studio, are still quite beautiful—if more haunted. Taehyung knows you’re not selling any art and you haven’t hosted a gallery night in almost three years now. The few times he’s been inside your studio since Yejun, you’ve indulged his curiosity and let him look at the things you’ve worked on.

Taehyung cherishes those private moments you allow him within your space. He uses them as a time to reflect on what life has brought to you and to him. You have a shared experience of losing someone, but it’s clear you’re both working through your pain differently. Your studio, once a bright and vibrant space filled with inspiration and captured moments of love, is now more of a tomb, silent and full of the whisper of death.

Taehyung eases open the door to the columbarium. The motion-activated lights within flicker on and fill the space with a soft yellow glow. It’s better than the typical fluorescent white lights they used to use. Taehyung thinks the bright, sterile lighting is far too reminiscent of a morgue or hospital, not exactly places people should be reminded of when coming to visit their dead loved ones. So, he suggested the change when he took over doing the gardening for the cemetery.

Yejun’s niche is towards the back of the space, near the bottom. You separate yourself from Taehyung, letting the bundle of flowers droop upside down in your hand as you step lightly across the floor. You look like a specter, gliding across holy ground in search of what’s keeping you tied to this plane of existence. In many ways, Taehyung thinks that’s precisely what is happening with you. You’re suspended in time, stuck in a limbo of heartache.

In the two years since Yejun, you haven’t been able to move on, even though that’s exactly what Yejun wanted you to do. Yejun never wanted you to mourn him for long. He told Taehyung there was far too much love for you to give, and you had a heart big enough to love someone else while still holding true to Yejun. What Yejun failed to realize, Taehyung thinks, is that without Yejun, you didn’t want to love again.

Taehyung holds back a few steps, giving you some time to have a private moment as you kneel down in front of Yejun’s niche. The placard covering the niche is engraved with his name, birth and death dates, and a small metal frame that holds a glass engraved likeness of Yejun. It pains Taehyung to see the smiling face and crinkled eyes behind his wireframed glasses. Yejun was his brother in all ways, except for being born to the same parents. That didn’t matter to them, though—still doesn’t matter to Taehyung. They love—loved—each other just as fiercely as if they had been.

“Yejun,” you whimper his name, pressing a hand to the placard, head hanging low. Taehyung watches your shoulders shake with silent sobs, and he can’t take it anymore. He moves across the space and kneels down beside you, ignoring the cold that instantly leeches through the knees of his trousers. Before he can think better of it, he has his arms around you, trying to hold you together…trying to keep your seams from unraveling too fast.

Taehyung coos softly, murmuring as many words of encouragement and solace as can work past his quivering lips, “Shh, it’s okay. I’m here. It’s going to be okay. I promise. He loved you so fiercely. I miss him, too. I’m here for you. Shh, it’s going to be okay.” Over and over again, Taehyung repeats it like a mantra until your sniffles subside, and you slump into his arms, feebly returning his embrace.

Feeling your arms around him is a comfort, one that helps him keep his own tears in check. “Thank you for being here,” you sniff before burying your face in his scarf and inhaling deeply.

“I’m always going to be here for you,” Taehyung offers, smoothing a hand over your hair in what he hopes is a soothing fashion. He watched Yejun console you enough times to have a good idea of what might help. After Sujin was born, you battled postpartum depression for a while, and Taehyung helped wherever he could, giving him those brief glimpses into your emotional turmoil. Yejun always petted your hair and let you ground yourself in his embrace. He never even had to say a word; just let you draw on his strength. So, Taehyung has always tried to emulate that for you whenever you’ve needed him.

You sigh, and Taehyung reluctantly lets you pull away to sit back on your heels. “I’m such a mess. I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Taehyung says, capturing the side of your face in one of his hands. You sway on your knees; big, round, red-rimmed eyes locked onto his. “Never apologize to me. You’re human, not a mess. Okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, lips barely moving. You slowly turn, sitting with your back against Yejun’s niche.

“Okay,” Taehyung repeats, and settles in beside you. He barely notices the cold this time as it seeps through the seat of his pants. There are far too many fierce emotions rolling through him to be bothered by the chill.

“Is it okay if I read this now?” you ask after several moments of shared silence.

Taehyung looks over at you, fingering the small envelope attached to the bundle of fresh flowers he brought. He swallows past the thick knot in his throat, worried about you reading it but knowing you need to. Perhaps it’ll be best read when he’s around and not in the solitude of your apartment where you could fall apart without someone there to catch you; Taehyung knows Sujin is staying at your mother’s tonight.

He clears his throat. “Uh, sure, yeah.”

“They really are beautiful,” you say, voice so soft it barely carries to Taehyung. You admire the flowers for a moment, and the anxiety Taehyung had earlier in the shop when he was wrapping them goes away. He was worried that he got the flowers wrong. He knew Yejun always brought you fresh flowers, different types for different occasions. Yejun was all about the spiritual and emotional meaning of flowers, something that Taehyung hardly paid any mind to until after.

Finally, you tug the end of the string that attaches the envelope to the flowers, and you set them to the side. The flap is tucked into the envelope, so you slide it out and remove the tri-folded parchment from within. It looks the same as it did the day Yejun gave it to Taehyung a few weeks before he died. It’s the same as all the other letters waiting in a box under Taehyung’s bed—waiting for the right moment, waiting for you.

“If you need a moment—” Taehyung begins to say, but you hold up a hand to silence him. Slowly, you unfold the paper and smooth it over your thighs. Your eyes flick over the paper, snatching on random words until they hit the name signed at the bottom.

“What is this?” you whisper, yet your voice cuts like steel. “Is this a cruel joke?” You hold the paper up for Taehyung to see. At the top, it reads ‘For if you haven’t moved on’. Taehyung can understand why you might think so.

“N-no. It’s…there’s…” Taehyung pauses and takes a deep breath before trying again. “It’s not a joke. It’s from Yejun.” The look of hurt that ghosts across your face brings a prickling heat behind Taehyung's eyes, and he has to blink them several times to hold his emotions at bay as he explains. “The letter I gave you after the funeral?” He waits until you give him a subtle nod. “This is another he gave me…along with many others.”

“Many others?” you ask, incredulity seeping into your tone.

“He wanted to leave you something, something more than just your memories and heartache. So, he spent a few weeks, before he got bad, writing letters to you. He gave them to me and made me promise I’d give them to you when the time was right. This one—” Taehyung nods toward the letter held between your fingers “—was one I wasn’t sure if I’d have to give you or not. It was one Yejun specifically said to only give you if…well, if you hadn’t started living life again.”

“Hadn’t started living life again?” You balk at that, rearing back from him with an angry look pinching your face.

Taehyung feels like he’s botching this, not explaining it properly to you or something. “Just, just please read it.” Taehyung has no idea what the letter says. He never wanted to invade Yejun’s and your privacy. He’s hoping, though, that maybe the letter might hold some key information to help you understand…to help ease your anger in a way that Taehyung’s words can’t seem to.

You stare at Taehyung for a moment, and he’s certain you’re about to spit in his face and leave him sitting here alone. But, you finally shake your head and sigh, settling back into place and focusing on the paper. Taehyung is sorely tempted to try and read over your shoulder, but he doesn’t want to further your ire. So, he slides a few inches away, opening up a wide, cold gap between the two of you…and waits.

💔💔💔

To the love of my life,   For if you haven’t moved on Hi, baby. I hope this is a letter Tae never has to give you, but if you’re reading this, then that means we’re not doing so well. I say ‘we’, because I’m still there with you. Just like I promised in my other letter. I told Tae to use his discretion on whether to ever give you this or not. He knows you nearly as well as I do, so I trust him. So, if you ever read this, know he doesn’t mean any harm by it…I don’t mean any harm by it. But, baby, you gotta start living again. At this point, I don’t know how much time will have passed since I had to go away, but I do know you can’t let much more time pass. I need you to live, my love. Live for me, live for Sujin…live for yourself. No more standing by while the world continues to spin, you have to spin with it, baby, let it carry you away, and on to better days. Please. Find something that makes you laugh, find something that makes you smile…even if it’s a someone. I know you’ll always love me. There is no doubt about that. But, don’t let that love stop you from living. Let someone in, let someone help…love again, for me. Show the world that it can’t tear you down. Go on a date, go skydiving, go to one of those fancy art galleries in Italy you used to fantasize about…just go, baby. Go and do, and be free. Don’t be afraid…please, don’t be afraid to live. Love forever, Your Yejun

The memory of the other letter, albeit a bit fuzzy, drifts through your mind as you sit and try to come to terms with how you feel at this moment. You absently trace the neat scrawl of Yejun’s handwriting covering the page. Don’t be afraid. Are you afraid? Is that it? You’ve never thought of it like that, in terms of being afraid to live. But, if you think about it, you suppose that’s the root of it. You are afraid. Afraid of moving on. What if you do find happiness? What if you do find someone else? Yejun is clear that he’s confident you’ll never forget him, but what if you do?

You don’t want to be sitting somewhere thirty years from now, with your head thrown back, laughing at the joke from some other guy, with Yejun having not crossed your mind in years. It’s not that you don’t want to be happy. You just…you don’t know.

Taehyung is sitting so quietly beside you that if you closed your eyes, you’d think you were alone. Guilt pricks against your heart at how badly you first reacted, the harsh tone and words you lashed at Taehyung where he didn’t deserve it. You clear your throat, drawing the flicker of Taehyung’s eyes in your direction.

“I’m sorry, Tae. I really am. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.” The words are thick on your tongue as you work through the emotions threatening to obliterate your existence. You think you might cry, but give yourself an imaginary pat on the back when you manage to maintain eye contact with Taehyung while successfully blinking back the tears.

Taehyung is quiet for a moment, a muscle in his jaw working, flexing the dark stubble you can see shadowing along his jawline. It’s in this moment that you feel like you see Taehyung in a new light, with added clarity. He looks haggard, tired. You didn’t notice it before, the sunken circles around his eyes or the lack of a clean shave…until now. It’s not fair, you realize, that he has taken care of you so much the last two years when you haven’t even so much as bothered to check on how he is doing.

You’re just about to break the silence with another feeble apology when he smiles, it’s faint, but it’s there. “You don’t need to apologize to me. Yejun and I might have shared a different kind of bond than what you two had, but I have at least an inkling of the keen sting you’re feeling, the one that never quite goes away no matter what you do.” He brings a hand up and presses it to the center of his chest. “The one that slices a little deeper after the sun goes down and everyone else has gone about their lives.”

Chilled goosebumps pop up along your arms, despite the warmth from the added layer of Taehyung’s jacket. That is exactly what it feels like, a lingering sting that won’t go away, one that grows when you’re alone.

You lick your trembling lips, tearing your gaze away from his and focusing back on the letter clutched in your hand. “Yejun,” you whisper. “He—he wants…he wants me to move on.” A soft sob catches in your throat. “But, I can’t do that. How can I do that?”

Your shoulders heave as the emotions you were able to hold at bay before come crashing through the walls you managed to put up. It’s not like the weeping from earlier. That was simply the quiet cries of a mourning wife. This is bone-deep, soul-rending agony that shakes your entire body.

Taehyung pulls you into his arms, and you press your face into the cushioning of his scarf and scream. The sound is muffled, but you can still hear it echoing through the columbarium when all the air finally empties from your lungs. You try to replenish the air, sucking in stilted breaths, but it’s not enough. Panic ensues, your heart launching into a heavy, staccato rhythm as if trying to pound right out of your chest.

“Hey, hey,” Taehyung soothes. “Slow down. Try to breathe slowly.” He pulls you firmly into his lap. You’re heedless to the intimate position your body falls into with your knees on either side of his hips. All you care about is getting air into your lungs. Taehyung holds you by the face, angling yours so you look up into his worried eyes. “Come on, slow. In…out…like that, come on, another one. In and then out.” He breathes with you, exaggerating the way he inhales air through his nose and pushes it back out through his mouth.

His warm breath puffs across your face with each exhale, carrying with it the faintest sharp tinge of mint and the earthy tones of tea. Something that instantly makes you think of home. It helps bring you back to reality, slowing your rampaging heart, and subsiding your shuddering cries.

“I can’t do it,” you mumble.

“You can. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

“No, no. You don’t—I can’t. It’s…it’s cold in here,” you whisper, pressing a trembling hand over your heart. “No one wants that.”

A soft, sad smile forms on Taehyung’s face as he continues to stare down at you. “Good thing that I know a thing or two about keeping things warm.” He drops his hands from your face and grabs the lapels of his jacket that’s still draped over your shoulders and gives it a tug, pulling it tighter around you. You can’t help but smile, even if it’s a watery one.

“What would I do without you?” you ask, not expecting Taehyung to answer.

“You’d make it.” He sounds so sure. “I know you would, you’d do it. But, I am glad to be here, to help however I can.”

Taehyung doesn’t urge you off of his lap, just allows you to rest there with your cheek pressed over his softly beating heart, finding whatever comfort you can from the proximity of another source of warmth. His words linger there, filling the space between you with a comfortability that you know you’ll never find anywhere else. You don’t say anything else, as there isn’t much else to say. At least, not words you think you could say out loud. Not here, not now.

But, an hour later, as you’re driving home, you decide to try. So, you do something you haven’t done in a while and turn on the radio, letting the music fill the silence from before. It’s a small step, but a step nonetheless; the first of—you hope—many.

The next morning, with the light of a new day spilling through the gap between your bedroom curtains, you decide you feel…good. As you lay in bed last night, full of revelations about how you’re going to start making steps toward Yejun’s desire for you to be happy again, worry began to set in. Worry over whether or not you can do this. Now, though, you feel decidedly different—light, in a way—as you push back the blankets and climb out of bed.

With your mom having taken Sujin to school this morning, it afforded you some time to sleep in, which is something you haven’t done in years. You weren’t sure you were going to, considering how poorly you’ve been sleeping the last couple of years. It feels nice, stretching your arms over your head and not feeling as groggy for once.

There is one thing you want to do before heading to the studio, where you know you’ll probably just piddle around until it’s time to pick up Sujin, but it’s just baby steps for now. It’s not lost on you that your work, the art you create, no matter if you manage to move on or not, might still be something that you’re never able to recover. Yejun wasn’t far off when he joked about being your one true muse, but you try to remain hopeful that you can surprise yourself.

The box in the back of the closet is exactly where you left it almost two years ago. It holds some of your most treasured possessions. Things you’ve held on to dating back as far as your teen years and as recent as two years ago. You kneel in the bottom of your closet and slide the box out from behind the stack of empty shoe boxes you can’t seem to toss out.

It’s a bit faded, the blue exterior, once a brilliant navy, is now more denim in color. You’ve had the box since you were a child, given to you by your father the summer before he split from your mom. That really hurt your family, when he cut himself out of the picture without so much as an apology; he ran off with another woman. It was so hard for you to believe in love after that.

Lifting the small silvered latch, you ease open the box lid and sigh as your eyes land on the folded paper nestled on top. Yejun’s first letter. It’s the last thing you put in this box. The paper still feels crisp in your fingers as you delicately pluck it out and unfold it. You worry at your bottom lip a moment before letting your eyes devour the same words you read once before.

This time, they don’t hurt nearly as much. You still feel that piercing ache, but it’s accompanied by another, fresher feeling—one of hope. What stands out the most, now, though, is the confirmation that there are other letters waiting for you. Yejun says as much himself in this letter, you just hadn’t ever put the dots together, too distracted in your grief.

There are endless possibilities for what those other letters might be for. But, what’s clear is that you won't get another one until you do something to deserve it. Knowing Yejun, you have a few ideas of what those things might be. There is a thrill but also a sense of trepidation as you think about that. You want to move on and be happy again, and in doing so, you know you’ll get the other letters, but there’s also that sense of overwhelming dread.

Where do you begin?

You spent most of your day rearranging and organizing supplies at the studio. But, now that the sun is beyond its zenith and casting longer shadows across your paint-marked studio floor, you feel like you’ve done nothing but waste time. You still haven’t decided where to begin with Yejun’s letters and you’re no closer to coming up with an idea for your next project either.

With frustration coloring your thoughts, you lock up and welcome the reprieve of going and picking Sujin up from school. That’s one part of your life that you do know up from down with.

As you pull through the pick up line, you don’t see Sujin anywhere out front. You spot Mrs. Min ushering a few students to their cars, her friendly face sporting a smile as she does so. Her eye catches yours and she holds up a hand, rushing over to your passenger side window.

“Hi!” she says when you roll it down. “So glad I caught you before you waited too long. Sujin volunteered to help Mr. Kim with his terrarium and it’s taking a bit longer than expected. He should be out in the next fifteen minutes or so, feel free to park in the teacher’s lot or you can wait here if you’d like.”

“Mrs. Min!” a rambunctious gaggle of students call her name, requesting her assistance.

She gives you an apologetic look. “Sorry, duty calls. He shouldn’t be too long!” she calls over her shoulder as she jogs towards the cluster of students beckoning her over. One of the kids has what appears to be a large diorama that they’re having a hard time carrying to their car, even with the assistance of their friends.

“Well, great,” you mumble to yourself, checking your rearview mirror and seeing a long line of cars waiting behind you.

Pulling ahead, you slip around the side of the school and pull into one of the empty teacher spots and cut the engine. You haven’t been inside the school since the parent-teacher meeting at the beginning of the year, so it wouldn’t hurt if you went inside now, it would give you a chance to peek into Sujin’s classrooms and see what he’s been up to. If it’s one thing he loves, it’s learning.

Mr. Kim and Mrs. Min have adjoining classrooms at the end of the hall for Sujin’s grade, a storage and supply closet connecting the two rooms. The door to Mrs. Min’s room is closed but the light is still on inside. You take a quick peek through the view window on the door and see colorful drawings and paper projects hanging on the wall, books scattered across a few tables, and a large container of art supplies opened on her desk. She teaches English, Reading, Art, and History while Namjoon covers Math and Science. 

The gym teacher, Mr. Jeon, startles you as he breezes through the double doors at the end of the hall that lead out to the playground. “Oh, hey! Sujin, your mom is here!” he calls, stepping back and propping the door open with the heel of his sneaker.

“Mom!” you hear Sujin’s voice sound from through the open door. “You gotta come see this!”

Mr. Jeon holds the door open for you, his face lit with a pleasant smile. “A future scientist, I’d bet,” Mr. Jeon stage-whispers as you pass him and that makes your own smile blossom further.

“What’s going on, buddy?” you ask, taking in the scene before you.

Namjoon is crouched down beside Sujin, helping him sort through a collection of rocks spread out on a sheet of plastic. There are dozens of them, all various shapes and colors.

Sujin excitedly points out a few of the large rocks. “These would be perfect to create a hiding space!” he loudly proclaims before turning his bright eyes up to you. “Mr. Kim is letting me help him choose the rocks to go into the terrarium. We’re going to get our very own class salamander! Isn’t that cool, Mom? A class dragon!”

A soft chuckle comes from Namjoon as he pivots on his heels and squints up at you, the sun catching on the thick-framed glasses that are slipping down his nose. “We had so much fun yesterday talking about the salamander that was brought into Mrs. Min’s class that I couldn’t resist. I’ve had this old aquarium sitting in my garage for years, it just seems perfect.”

“Wow, yeah, that’s really cool.”

“Sorry for keeping him,” Namjoon suddenly stands, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking contrite. “I didn’t realize the bell had rung until Jungkook said something.” He turns to Sujin who is happily stacking a few of the smaller rocks into a pile. “I think that’s all for today, Sujin. We’ll finish it up tomorrow during class.”

Sujin frowns, his warm brown eyes flicking to Namjoon. “Okay,” he sighs.

“I tell you what, for all your hard work today, how about I let you be creative director during assembly tomorrow? Does that sound okay?”

The frown is quickly replaced with another excited smile. Sujin gives a whoop of delight and slaps his hands together before dusting them off. “Thank you, Mr. Kim, that sounds amazing!”

Seeing the interaction between Namjoon and Sujin gives you an idea, one that you hope you won’t regret. “Go grab your backpack, buddy, I’ll meet you outside Mrs. Min’s room in a second.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Sujin pulls open the door and scampers through, his sneakers squeaking on the tiled floor as he skips down the hall.

“Thank you for that, Namjoon, really. He was so excited about what happened yesterday and now this? He’s been wanting a turtle for a year now, so this will be a good test on whether or not we should get one.”

Namjoon pulls one of his hands out of his pocket and grips the back of his neck as he smiles shyly, his cheeks pinking slightly. “He’s a great kid, loves to learn. Though, turtles are a bit more needy than salamanders. It would also depend on the type of turtle. The standard box turtles are…” Namjoon trails off, his brow pinching as he throws furtive glances your way. “Sorry, you didn’t ask for a science lesson.”

That makes you laugh, which seems to ease the awkward tension in Namjoon. “Sujin isn’t the only one that likes learning.” You don’t intend the words to sound flirty, but they come out that way and you can distinctly tell that Namjoon keys into that.

“Yeah?” he asks, the shyness leeching away by the second.

“Um, yeah. Er, well, I should—” you jerk your thumb over your shoulder toward the door “—Sujin is probably waiting.” 

“Oh, yeah, of course.” Namjoon sidesteps over the plastic sheet of rocks and fumbles with the door handle before yanking it open. “Have a good—”

“Are you free Friday night?” you blurt, wincing at the rudeness of interrupting him but knowing if you don’t ask now then you’ll lose your nerve.

“Friday?” he parrots back, eyes wide behind his glasses.

Panic slices through and you immediately want to take it back. “Sorry, that was—I didn’t, it’s not appropriate is it? I’m so sor—”

“I’m free,” he states, the words silencing your backpedaling.

“Oh.” Now that he’s confirmed, you’re not sure what else to say. It’s been so long since you’ve done this.

“Is there something you wanted to do?” Namjoon asks hesitantly, clearly picking up on your trepidation.

You swallow around the choking feeling in your throat, the one that’s ingrained with the idea that you’re still married and still madly in love with another man and this is akin to cheating. “Maybe dinner? Or a late coffee? Um, or…I’m sorry, it’s been so long since I’ve done this.”

Namjoon gives you an easy smile. “Dinner sounds great. Let’s say, seven?”

“Seven is good. How about that new pizza place that opened up near the park, do you know the one?”

“I’ve had my eye on that place for weeks! That sounds perfect.”

Are you really going on a date…with Sujin’s Science teacher? “Okay,” you say, chewing the inside of your cheek as you take a few steps down the hall. “Great.”

“Great,” Namjoon confirms with a smile, his deep dimples making an appearance. “See you then.”

All you can do is nod, not trusting yourself with any more words with the influx of emotions now swirling through you. Sujin bursts through Mrs. Min’s door, his backpack and lunchbox in tow.

“Let’s go!” he trumpets, thrusting his free hand into the air in a fist. “I’ve got some homework to do before I can work on my diagram for the terrarium!”

Namjoon’s soft chuckle carries to you from down the hall as you usher Sujin towards the exit. You can’t help casting one last glance behind you, taking in the way he’s lazily leaning against the doorframe of his classroom. He’s quite handsome, there’s no arguing that.

A giddy feeling adds itself to the uncertain emotions rolling through you. A fluttering in your tummy that you haven’t felt in over seven years. You can’t help but wonder, as you load Sujin into the car, if this is really what Yejun wants for you or are you making a mistake?

💔💔💔

Taehyung

It’s a weird sensation when you expect to feel one emotion but end up feeling another. That’s what Taehyung thinks anyway, as he reads the text message he received from you for the dozenth time. You have a date. With Namjoon.

Taehyung has never met the quirky Science teacher, but he’s heard plenty of stories about him from Sujin. Charming, educated, and completely and utterly perfect for you. And that should make Taehyung happy. Yet, all he can feel is mild annoyance when he thinks about Namjoon sitting across from you at a dinner table making you laugh and smile.

He wants to chalk it up to being overprotective in a brotherly sort of way, but Taehyung knows better. It’s no secret—well maybe it is to you—that Taehyung cares for you deeply. Even before Yejun, Taehyung always had a soft spot for his best friend’s wife. Something that he drunkenly confessed to Yejun once a few years ago. Yejun took it goodnaturedly, something that Taehyung still thinks about to this day, and simply told Taehyung he understood the attraction because hell, who could blame him?

They never talked about it again, until the day Yejun asked Taehyung to take care of you and Sujin—the day he was given a box of letters addressed to you. Yejun had given Taehyung a knowing smile and said something along the lines of fate knowing and that’s why Taehyung already had so much love for you.

He wasn’t sure, at first, if Yejun had ever shared Taehyung’s little secret with you. But, as time went on, it was clear that he hadn’t. That, or, so lost in your grief, you’ve been keenly uninterested in that prospect. But, now, you’re going on a date and Taehyung doesn’t know how to feel about it.

The twinge of jealousy in his chest doesn’t sit right with him. He has no right to feel this way. It’s just something that he can’t seem to shake, hasn’t been able to since you told him about it two days ago. So, instead of expressing that, he forces himself to try and share in your joy.

That’s great. Let me know when you’re home, I have something for you.

A letter perhaps??

Your eager reply makes him smile despite himself. If anything, that helps his mood to improve. The ‘first date’ letter is already sitting on his counter, waiting.

Perhaps. Now stop texting me and go have fun.

There is no reply to that. So, Taehyung waits patiently, phone in hand. Hours pass in a mindless, sluggish way. He’s far too wound up to do anything productive but also has nervous energy that needs to be released. So, Taehyung spends the four hours it takes for you to finally respond by squeaking out haphazard notes on the alto saxophone he’s taken to trying to learn to play.

His phone lights up where it sits on the coffee table and he nearly drops the instrument in his haste to snatch up the device.

I’m home.

That’s all it says and it makes Taehyung frown. Not that he expected you to tell him how the date went over text message, but he was anticipating something more than just those two words. He is startled to realize just how late it is, though, being past eleven already.

Is it too late? I can always just swing by tomorrow.

Sujin is staying with mom. It’s not too late.

Taehyung is contemplating his reply when another text from you pops up that makes him drop everything else and grab his car keys, not caring it’ll be close to midnight by the time he pulls up outside your apartment. It was a knee-jerk reaction to also grab the letter that was sitting beside his keys, but now he’s thinking about whether or not it’s a good idea.

Those thoughts quickly fade as he focuses on the road, intent on reaching your apartment in record time. His phone sits on the passenger seat, still open to your text thread, the single word might as well be an alarm blaring to Taehyung, urging him on faster.

Please.

💔💔💔

As soon as you send the last text message you want to take it back. Not only do you feel whiny, but you know Taehyung will drop everything and come over which makes you feel terrible and like you’re using him.

But, fuck. The date was so horrible all you want to do is crawl into familiar, comforting arms and cry yourself to sleep. You’re about to pour your third glass of wine when there is a sudden knock on the door, followed by it swinging open. Taehyung stands there with your spare key in his hand, eyes wide with concern.

“Are you okay?” he asks, breathless as he clearly sprinted up the stairs to get here and now you feel infinitely worse for it.

You shake your head which earns you a pained sound from Taehyung but you hold up your hand, silencing him. “I’m not shaking my head no as in no I’m not fine, it’s more a I’m such a fool head shake. I’m sorry, Tae. I’m fine. I shouldn’t have said anything, I just—”

“I’m glad you said something. What happened? Do I need to go pay a certain science teacher a visit?” For all his bravado, you know he wouldn’t hesitate if you said yes.

“No, no. It’s not his fault. Well, not entirely. Look, I’m sorry you drove all the way over here.” You discard the empty wine glass in favor of taking a large glug directly from the bottle.

“Hey, hey,” Taehyung says, deftly taking the bottle from your hands before you have the chance to take a second gulp from it. “Stop apologizing and tell me what’s wrong.”

“It was a fucking disaster.”

If Taehyung is surprised by your cussing, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he stills beside you, brow slowly pinching and forming deep furrows between them. “Did he hurt you?” he whispers, but his tone is cold and hard. “I’ll kill him.”

“What? What, oh no, Tae, no. He didn’t hurt me, god no.” You sigh, propping your hip against the lip of the counter and wrapping your arms around your middle. “He was lovely, actually. I was the disaster. Or maybe we were. I don’t know, it was just a terrible night. A terrible idea.”

“Talk to me about it,” Taehyung encourages, his hands landing lightly on your shoulders to steer you toward the couch in the living room.

So, you spend the next hour recounting all the horrid details for him. Everything from the way Namjoon wouldn’t stop talking about rocks and mineralized dirt to the way he tried to kiss you at the end of the night only for you to duck and him to lose his balance, effectively making him face plant into the brick wall of your apartment building.

“See, it was a terrible idea,” you lament, letting out a frustrated sigh.

Taehyung hums softly. “It doesn’t sound like a complete disaster to me. Namjoon was polite, even if he did nothing but talk about his own interests. Did you try changing the subject, or did he ask about you and you gave a dismissive answer?” You give Taehyung an annoyed look. “I’m just saying, you have the tendency to avoid things like that. So, it’s only meant as a means to try and understand. Maybe it can be better next time.”

“There won’t be a next time.” You throw up your hands in defeat. “He said he had a lovely time, but I could see it plain on his face, he was just trying to be nice. He left with a bloody napkin pressed against his mouth for crying out loud!”

“Well, maybe he really—”

“But, most of all,” you continue, speaking over Taehyung, “I didn’t have a good time. I don’t want to do it again. It didn’t make me happy.”

That seems to subdue Taehyung. “Oh,” he says, nodding slowly. “Well, okay, that’s different.”

“I’m broken, defective.”

Taehyung scoffs, giving you a withering look a moment before dragging you into his arms, squeezing you tightly. “You’re not defective. You’re human. All this proves is that maybe the science teacher isn’t the guy for you. Simply just a lack of…chemistry.”

You can’t help but laugh at his bad joke. “You’re terrible,” you say in a lighter tone, meant to tease more than chastise. “But, you’re right, I guess. I just…this was the first date I’ve been on in a long time and it all went so horribly. It’s hard not to think that I somehow messed up, that I’m just…not right, just broken, y’know?” Taehyung’s eyes are soft as you look up at him, trying hard not to let yourself grow too accustomed to the comforting feel of his arms around your shoulders.

“You are perfect, most certainly not broken,” he whispers. You watch from beneath your lashes as a small crease etches across his forehead and you can tell he’s warring with himself over something before he slowly presses a soft kiss against the side of your head. “You just have to give yourself grace. I’m proud of you.” As he says that last part, he gently pulls back, hands resting on your shoulders. His right hand trails down your arm and you feel the soft caress of paper against the back of your hand. “Yejun would be proud of you, too, taking as big of a step as you have, I just know it.”

The envelope is small, but you instantly recognize the shape and feel of the paper. It’s just like the one you got earlier this week—like the one from two years ago. “Should I wait to read it?” you ask, not really expecting an answer.

“I’ll leave if you’d like some privacy.”

And in that moment you realize that’s the last thing you want. “No, please stay. Umm, that is, unless you have something to do.” It’s after midnight, the sour twist of jealousy rears as you think of everything that could possibly take Taehyung away at this hour. You tamp it down, knowing you have no right to keep him here, regardless. “I’m okay, I promise.”

Taehyung’s lip twitches as you wait for him to answer. He shakes his head. “No, I have nothing else to do. I can’t promise I won’t end up crashing on your couch, though,” he says, stifling a yawn in his elbow before lacing his fingers behind his head and stretching out. “I’m here as long as you need me.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch and spreading it out over Taehyung’s legs before curling up on the opposite end of the couch. Taehyung shifts around the blanket with his feet, making sure the other end covers your legs as well.

“Don’t have to thank me,” he sighs sleepily. “I just want to make you happy.”

You’re not sure if he misspoke, because surely he meant only that he wants to see you happy. Because, as it is, him saying he wants to make you happy…well, that does something funny to you. Though, you can probably blame that on the terrible date with Namjoon or the half a bottle of wine you drank. Either way, you can’t help but smile as you look at Taehyung laying on the other end of your couch, eyes closed, and chest rising and falling with deep, even breathing.

You take a moment, running back over the date with Namjoon in your head, fingers idly moving along the edge of the envelope. It started out so nicely, Namjoon standing outside your apartment with a bouquet of flowers. They made your nose itch and your eyes water a bit from how overly fragrant they were—clearly some mass grown clippings from a supermarket—but you smiled anyway, appreciating the gesture.

Dinner was lovely, the new restaurant proving to be worth the drive and money spent. It’s perhaps your own fault for thinking Namjoon might pay for the meal and it didn’t hurt you any to pay for your own, but it felt oddly…impersonal? Less like a date and more like a business meeting or something. You’re not too old to be naive in the sense that women are just as capable of paying for dinner as men, as well as the fact that men shouldn’t hold the complete burden of expense on dates. It’s just…it was unusual and he didn’t even bring it up, simply told the waiter to split the check before it was brought.

It’s not helped by the fact that Namjoon wouldn’t stop talking about work or soil deposits. And perhaps Taehyung was at least half right in the fact that you didn’t put forth a lot of effort to change the subject, but the way you see it, if Namjoon was interested in knowing about you, he would have asked. Though, is that expecting too much? Are you being too harsh? Maybe you’re projecting and Namjoon really wasn’t that bad.

Before you can continue to spiral any further, you force your thoughts to the letter in your hand. Hoping it’ll put your ill heart at ease, you extract the folded parchment and smooth it out.

To the love of my life,             For after your first date Hi, baby. First, I want to say that I love you. Second, I hope he at least made you smile. If he didn’t bring you flowers or even those cheap ones from the supermarket, don’t think too much of it. I’ll let you in on a little guy secret, not all of us are well versed on flora and even less so on women. Even if it didn’t go so well, though I hope it did, you can’t give up. Go on another date, with the same person or someone else, you just can’t stop now. Take as many adventures as you can, do something spontaneous. You never did take that dance class you wanted to a few years ago. Paint, travel, explore the world. Take Sujin to places we never got to go. Just don’t stop, keep turning, even if it’s slowly. I’m so proud of you, you know? No matter what, I know you’re going to be okay. You’re going to make it. I can’t wait to see all you do. You’re going to be wonderful. You’re amazing, keep shining, baby. I love you so much. Forever With You, Your Yejun

Tucking the letter against your heart, you snuggle down in the couch, mind racing. You feel lighter somehow, like Yejun’s words have given you far more affirmation than you thought possible. The terrible date doesn’t seem so disastrous now.

“You okay?”

You startle at the soft question, thinking Taehyung was fast asleep. His eyes are barely cracked open, peering at you over his bent, blanket-covered knees.

“Mm, yeah. I think so,” you say after clearing your throat.

“Good…good,” Taehyung murmurs, his eyes falling shut once more.

“Hey, Tae?”

“Hmm?” His eyebrows raise but he doesn’t open his eyes. You take a moment to truly see him, the soft light from the stand lamp on the other side of the room illuminating him in profile. The soft curve of his cheek, the delicate slope of his nose, and the pouty bow of his lips aren’t new features, but you’re not sure you’ve ever truly paid attention to how breathtakingly handsome he is.

“Will you help me?”

Taehyung’s lips twitch as a mild frown turns down his lips. “Help you?”

“With whatever comes next.”

“Whatever you need, I’m yours,” he mumbles, a soft smile replacing his frown. You watch him for a moment longer, his lips going even softer as the smile fades with sleep. His chest rises and falls, your eyes tracking the motion in the dim lighting until you feel the pull of sleep yourself. Taehyung is the last thing you see before you close your eyes, and for the first time in over two years, you sleep peacefully; with a subtle warmth blooming in your chest where once there was only cold.

Next Chapter⇾ (coming soon!) ◅ Back to story masterlist  

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️ 2024-03-18 ColorMePurplex2

#taehyung x reader #bts taehyung #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #taehyung fanfic #taehyung imagines #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #kim taehyung #bts non idol au #bts imagines #bangtanwhq

[mushies-stories]

Be a good girl

Tommy shelby X female!Reader

Summary: tommy has been teasing you all day and It's time you get some payback... or something like that.

Warnings: SMUT, pnv, unprotected sex, creampie, cum eating, tommy's desk.

word count: 2067

smut under the cut

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tommy spoke low in your ear. Hands on your hips helping to sit you on his thick cock. “C’mon love, you wanted it eh? You can take it just fine like this.” You struggled to take him in so fast, you didn't think he would just sit you on his cock. You pushed through and snuggled him into you, feeling full and warm. “Good girl, now stay still.” you shook your head and laid your head on his shoulder. 

Tommy had been teasing you all day, since he had most of the day off, just needing to do some work at home he was free to grope you and kiss you tell you were dizzy. He never touched you enough though, he would pull away when things got too heated and leave you feeling hot and needy. 

You had enough and decided to try at least to distract him as payback. Payback kind of, in the best way, backfired. Thomas Shelby didn't appreciate you trying to interrupt his work. He does however enjoy seeing how needy you were getting. So he gave you his cock, only to sit on, tell his work was done. Fifteen-twenty minutes tops he said, then he will fuck you. But only if you were a good girl. 

You were going on twenty-five minutes now and you were beginning to really get restless. His cock twitched every once in a while and that got you feeling even hotter. You were soaking his crotch with your juices and you just needed to move. You turned your head to face Tommy, Lips brushing his neck. Your arms rested around his shoulders. “Tommy, it’s been too long.” You inform him. 

He gives you a quick glance. “Almost done.” he states firmly. Scratching a few more notes down and turning to a new page. You roll your eyes. You couldn't take anymore waiting. Moving your hips softly you press a feathery light kiss to Tomy's jawline. “Love what did i say?” he asked with another glance at you. When you didn't stop he took your chin between his fingers and pulled you forward slightly to look him fully in the eyes. “What did I say?” he repeated himself. His voice is much darker now.

You gave him a small pout but continued grinding on his cock. “Please Tommy?” Tommy set his pen down and gripped your hips to make you stop. “Please, I need it.” you begged. 

Tommy leaned forward and moved the papers he was working on out of the way. He gripped your thighs with both hands and stood. Keeping himself buried in you he sat you on the edge of his desk, your arms behind you to keep yourself up. He looked down at your sheer nightgown and how your nipples poked through the fabric. He admired your body before his eyes came to lock onto your own. “What was that princess? What do you need?” he asked. His thumbs drew small circles on your thighs as he held your legs open for him. 

You felt your face heat up. The way his eyes bore into you, like they saw everything you are. Your pussy was dripping around his cock. “I need you Thomas please… I need your cock.” you said embarrassed. 

Tommy smirked a little and moved his hips back a fraction just to see you gasp at the slightest movement. “Is that so?” he slowly rocked his hips into you. Giving you only a little friction to work with as his hands held a firm grip on your thighs. “Couldn't even wait thirty minutes eh?” He teased you. 

You huffed and gave him another pouty face. “You've been teasing me all day.” you countered. 

He chuckled and leaned down to kiss your neck softly before giving it a love bite. “Getting all needy from a few kisses huh? You wanted to argue back, but his lips and teeth on your neck are making your mind blur. “Need my cock love?” Tommy begins to actually thrust into you now. He didn't pull out completely but he kept a steady pace. Enough for you to finally feel a little release. Tommy lets one hand wander to your right breast. His fingers massages and pinch your nipple. You let out a breathy moan and tilt your head back. 

Your eyes are half lidded as they look into Tommy’s. “More.” You looked at him with pleading eyes. 

He cocked a brow and pulled back so far he was almost completely pulled out, holding just the tip of his throbbing cock at your dripping entrance.you felt so empty after having him buried in you for so long. “More what love?” he had left your breast to hold your jaw softly to force you to look him in the eyes. He wanted to see you beg. 

You didn't want to give in, he was having too much fun teasing you. Without breaking eye contact you reached one arm in front of you to the hem of Tommy’s shirt and tugged him towards you harshly. Tommys cock slid into you a bit more but not enough to make you content in the slightest. You went to do it again but Tommy’s hand came down to grip your wrist, stopping you. “Use your words of love, don't act like a brat.” he warned. 

But you did want to act like a brat, he teased you all day and he still wont fuck you. You immediately got an idea when his hand let go of your wrist. You grabbed a hold of his suit jacket with both hands and wrapped your legs around his hips and pulled him into you. His cock sinking back into your tight pussy made you moan and gasp softly and it caused Tommy to lose his breath for a moment. 

Tommy’s hands were on your tights again to keep you still. He leaned down so your foreheads were touching. “That was a nasty trick, love.” he whispered. “If you're going to be so needy, maybe I'll see just how needy this pretty pussy is for me, eh?” His fingers gripped your flesh firm and he began to pound into you roughly. You threw your arms back to keep yourself in place as you almost screamed at the pleasure that was not hitting you all at once. Your breasts bounced with every thrust and your legs were shaking already around Tommy’s hips. Your face was full of pure bliss, your eyes screwed shut while your head hung back. “Eyes open love, watch how well I fuck you.” He commanded. 

You reluctantly opened your eyes just enough for Tommy to seem pleased. His pupils were blown and he looked ready to eat you. A hand snaked its way between the two of you to your clit. He rubbed circles into your clit and watched as you had a hard time keeping your eyes locked on his. Your moans bounced around the room and your breathing became uneven. “Tommy- aah- i'm close please!” you cried out. Just when you were feeling yourself about to come undone he moved his hand away and slowed to shallow thrusts. You gasped at the loss of your climax and looked at him with tears pricking the corner of your eyes. “Why?” you asked with a pout. 

His hand came back to your clit to rub slow circles to match his trust. “How much do you want my cock love?” he asked. He couldn't help but love the desperate look in your eyes. Needing to come on his cock to the point of tears. “C’mon princesses. just tell me and I’ll let you come on my cock.” 

You looked at him through your lashes. You couldn't stop it anymore, You needed him to fuck you. You could hardly keep it together anymore. “Fuck me- please Thomas.” He bucked his hips to hit you a little deeper. You let out a strangled moan. “I need your cock please, I need you to fill me with your cum.” you pleaded. 

Tommy let out a grunt before smashing your lips together. While his fingers sped up their assault on your clit his other hand came up to cradle the back of your head. He pushed you to lay back on the desk. His cock pounded into you relentlessly. His mouth left you to roam around your chest and neck. He sucked and bit your sweet spot and left marks far enough down so they can be covered up for a few days. You couldn’t help but babble out nonsense about how good his cock was and how good he fucked you. So fucking good. 

“Now you're being such a good girl for me, just need my cock yeah?” Tommy spoke low in your ear. You couldn’t form full words. His name being one of the only things he could really make out between your desperate moaning and jumbled words. “Fuck, i want to see you cum. Can you do that for me? Come on my cock love.” He encouraged you.

Sensitive from Tommy’s finger on your clit and the overstimulation you were not ready for your climax. It hit you hard and fast and without warning. You were a moaning squirting mess under Tommy as you kept yourself steady with your arms around his neck. Your pussy spasmed around Tommy’s cock. “You want my cum love?” He asked, looking down at you as he slowed his pace to let you catch your breath. “Want me to fill you will my cum?” he asked again, pulling almost all the way out.

You nodded your head softly with a small grin. “I need it please Tommy.” You let out a soft moan and pulled him down enough to speak softly into his ear and forced his cock to slip back into your pussy. “Fuck me full with your cum.” You kiss the spot right below his lobe and softly bite the skin.

Fueled purely by desire Tommy's hips took up the same pace as before and pounded his cock into your pussy. You whimpering and begging for his cum had his cock twitching and painting your walls white in a few good thrusts. He kept his cock in deep while he caught his breath. He looked at your eyes ready to close shut on him. A small smile on your lips as you laid there with his cock still stuffed inside of you. “C’mon love wake up for me.” he chuckled, hand stroking your cheek softly. You look up and pull Tommy into a gentle kiss, tell you bit his bottom lip and his

fingers dig into your skin lightly. He pulled away and noticed the small smirt playing at the corner of your mouth. 

Tommy pulled out of you as he stood. You gave a small whimper at the empty feeling. His cum was so deep in you but there was so much it was beginning to slip out already. With two long fingers Tommy scooped his cum back up to your entrance and pushed it back in. He pumped his fingers into your pussy a few times causing you to choke on a moan. “Tommy-” You whimpered out. 

Pulling his fingers out he brought them to your lips. “Open your pretty lip’s.” he commanded. You did as he said and opened your mouth enough for him to slide his fingers in. “suck them clean love.” He said. You could taste both of your juices swirling around on your tongue. Your eyes fluttered shut as you licked his fingers clean and pulled off with a soft pop. 

You looked up at him through hooded eyes. “Carry me to bed.” you demanded tiredly. 

Letting out a snort Tommy picked you up bridal style. “How’s about a bath first eh?” he suggested. 

You laid your head on his shoulder and snuggled into him. “But then all of your cum will leak out.” you protested. You were still feeling needy and now so cock drunk you just wanted Tommy’s cum to keep you full.

He looked down at you with a raised brow. “That so?” he played at being deep in thought. “Then I guess I’ll just have to fuck you to bed then, but a bath first.” He insisted. You grumble but only for show. You'd happily take another of Tommy's load’s before falling asleep wrapped in his arms.

#peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby #tommy shelby smut #peaky blinders smut

[yoditopascal]

My Jake

Pairings: Jake Lockley x afab!reader

Tags: SMUT MDNI,NOT BETA READ, unprotected sex, rough sex, dark!possessive Jake, overstimulation, jealous!Jake. It’s super short sorry y’all

a/n: I’ve been rewatching avatar and the way Neytiri says ‘ma Jake’ got to me

To say Jake Lockley was interested in you was an understatement. Mans had a borderline obsession.

He just had to know how you ticked and once he did he doubted he’d ever be able to let you go again.

Avatar to the god Anubis he first found himself fascinated in the fact that you couldn’t die. Through Marc and Steven’s eyes he’d seen you be stabbed, shot, had your throat slit and more and everytime you just healed and kept fighting. That’s what drew him to you, simple morbid curiosity. Your connection to the duat and the way you fought as an avatar was beautiful in the most poetic way he could think of. You essentially became a god of death, sucking the life out of evil with one touch, ferrying them to the afterlife to be judged for their wrong doings. He'd never seen anyone fight the way you did. And the emotions you expressed while you did it, he couldn’t wrap his head around why you wept for some of them but you did and it made him all the more curious about you. You were different.

Next was your love for Steven and Marc. Though platonic in nature you still gave them your heart in full. Steven was almost instantaneous, the man had you wrapped around his little finger with his puppy eyes and soft voice. To you he could do no wrong. Marc took a bit more work but after a few life or death missions together and the whole saving the world from Harrow fiasco Marc was just as much of a trusted friend as Steven was. Jake wasn’t sure if you could tell when he front and pretended to be Steven or Marc but whether you could tell or not you treated him just the same, voice just as sweet when you spoke to him and only him, touch just as delicate and as soft, sometimes he wished you would just hold his face in your palm and never let go something he’d usually never admit but you made him feel…different.

Lastly what drew him to you was jealousy. He saw how you looked at Layla when she wasn’t looking or how you hung onto every word she said. He also saw how she looked at you sometimes too, how she smiled shyly and looked at you through her lashes. He couldn’t let that slide.

Which was how you found yourself underneath him, tears in your eyes as you wailed with every aggressive thrust of his hips.

Hovering over you, his pupils blown with feral lust Jake grabs at your hips, desperate to anchor himself as he drove away savagely at your core.

A whine seeped from your lips, your skin felt like it was on fire, sensitive to his contact, burning touches following each placement of his long fingers.

“Give me one more cariño”

He was starting to lose himself in you, his hands continued to dig into you as his thrusts got harder, rougher, making a complete mess of the both of you, leaving bruised touches in his wake. He felt your pussy suck him in even more, cunt dripping with every movement he made.

Looking down he became mesmerized by the way he disappeared inside of you, another wail escaped from your lips as his thumb found your clit once more, refusing to let up as he rubbed furious little circles into it, body growing feverish under his gaze and from the intense pleasure you were experiencing.

“Give it to me cariño, I need one more.”

With every flick of his finger, hot pleasure rocks its way into the pit of your stomach, you cum quickly without warning with a scream, overwhelmed by his heavy body on top of you and overstimulation, causing him to pause but only for a second before he starts up again.

“Please my Jake, please”

You pleaded completely spent, lightly pushing against his abdomen in a weak attempt to get him to stop.

He ignored you, focusing instead on sucking along your breast with fervor. You reached up and tugged onto his hair hard, just enough to get him to listen to your pleas but he only grunted, continuing his menstruations as he ground himself into your core.

“So fucking wet for me hermosa, gimme one more.”

#moon knight x reader #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley smut #black reader #ma jake #my jake

[katiapostsss]

✧ ˚ · . 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐄𝐀 — anakin skywalker p. 1

˗ˏˋ 📄 ´ˎ˗

teaser:

"just the way you

still like it, i hope."

ᶜ ʰ ᵃ ʳ ᵃ ᶜ ᵗ ᵉ ʳ ˢ : modern!anakin x fem!reader

warnings! :

swearing ..

SYNOPSIS: you and anakin are not friends anymore. not as you used to be. but letting him stay in your home while his own is being renovated doesn't call for friendship... just.. friendliness.

based off this request. hope you like ❤️❤️

〰️

| part 2 > ( coming soon )

knocking from your front door was what finally had you changing from your nightly attire and emerging from the isolation of your room, not without some struggle, though, seeing as it was only 8 in the morning and you were pretty sure half your brain was still dreaming.

rubbing the remnants of rest from your eyes and trudging absentmindedly down the stairs and to the entrance, you had to fumble for the key and unlock the door, then struggling to just pull it open. dropping your hand and forcing your eyes open, you were met with blaring sun and a stout figure. you squinted. "ma? why are you—"

"oh, dear." without warning, she shoved a platter into your arms and drew closer, running her hands down your shirt and straightening your appearance. "don't tell me you just woke up! it's—" she looked down at her watch, "8 am already, y/n. you must greet your guests with formality."

you sighed, looking down at the plate and inspecting the contents. "ma, it's too early for.. fruits." of course she had appeared at your door, at 8 in the morning, with a big dish of strawberries, grapes, and pineapples, because she was your mother. you expected no less.

you looked up at her with a brow raised, gesturing to the platter.

"well, i know how much you like them. we had some left over from the dinner party just last night." she shrugged. "now, will you let your guest in, or have her stand outside all day?"

not without some hesitation, you stepped off to the side and opened the door wider for her to enter in, shutting it behind her once she had begun her descent down the corridor to your kitchen. "a mess, y/n. do you ever clean around here? for guests, at least?" it was not a mess. aside from a stray duster on the ground and one of your cat's toys, your house was perfectly fine, actually.

you rolled your eyes and set the platter down on the kitchen counter, unraveling the plastic wrap from the top and pulling it off. you plucked a strawberry and popped it into your mouth. "i didn't expect any guests. and plus, you're my mother— what are you—?"

"i'm cooking breakfast. coffee is not a meal." she was rummaging through the fridge, pulling out some eggs and frozen bacon and plopping it onto the counter by the stove. you heaved an exasperated breath.

"ma—"

"well, you need to eat something," she drawled, clicking her tongue. you gave up the fight, turning back to the fruit and rounding the counter so you could sit in one of the many chairs lining it. the crackle of cooking yolk and simmering heat filled the quiet. your mother hummed as she worked, and you focused solely on the fruit, slightly appreciative of this meal.

"you know, anakin's back in town for the summer. george and i hope it's to stay. that boy is always on the move." she chuckled, shaking her head. you looked up from the platter, brows pinning together, surprise etching into your features.

"he is?" from what you knew, your best friend since childhood had been out in new york, for reasons that never got to you. or maybe it was dallas? spokane? you had no idea. you never did. it was true, anakin was always moving around, as if scared to settle. it was why you had stopped talking so much. not because of any miscommunications or fights, but just because he left so often, that it was hard to keep in touch. he had ambitions. hopes. feelings and things to do that you never had even known of, ever even dabbled in. he was always that type. to want everything all at once. you stopped trying after a while. it all came to be too much, and prior to the fallout, there was no implication he cared much, either. not that you cared. you didn't. sure, it sucked to see a friend go, but maybe that bond was always meant to fray, as childhood friendships always do.

you looked back down at the fruit, swallowing thickly and deciding you did not want to eat any longer. "i never thought i'd hear those words, actually," you quipped as you pushed away the platter, even as a frown came to your lips. your mother laughed. "how— how is he?"

"oh, good. all good. he visited last night, y'know. at the dinner. he looked well. god, he grew. oh, and he's renovating. his house, i mean. needs somewhere to stay until it's done..." she trailed off, turning with the pan and a plate and eyeing you as she stepped up to the counter and slid the egg onto the glass. you bristled, understanding what she was implying.

"so that's why you're here.. mom, we don't even talk anymore! it would just be weird to invite him here out of the blue! i can't just..."

"but you could talk again," she countered, shrugging and turning to the sink. the pan clinked against the metal. "and don't act like it wouldn't be good for you, either. you've been wasting away in this house. some company would be a well fit for you." she walked back over with a fork and pushed the plate to you, but you had already lost your appetite. you looked distastefully down at the eggs.

"ma..."

"just consider it, y/n. i know you like your privacy, or whatever you call this.." she gestured to the house and trailed off without finishing the sentence. you rolled your eyes. "but really, just think about it, okay?" a moment of silence. "well, i've got to get to my pilates classes. eat all of that, y/n. i didn't make it for the trash, now did i?"

you sighed in defeat as you watched her pat her leggings and pull out her car keys, which jingled loudly when she waved goodbye and whooshed down the hallway, the sound of the door opening and closing following in suit. you watched her leave, eyes remaining on the bend and fingers balled tightly, your shoulders slumped inward. maybe she was right. you were getting tired of this isolation, this complete quiet. maybe... just for a month or two, this stranger with a past you shared could move in until his renovations were over.

you didn't know how long you sat there, thinking, before you ultimately reached for your phone in your pocket and pulled it out, unlocking it and swiping to your messages. you weren't sure if you still had his number personally, but surely on some group chat... and there it was. you clicked onto his information and the typing bar came into view. all you had to do now was actually write him. you hesitated. this was nothing, certainly. just being friendly, even for somebody you weren't friends with anymore.

hey, it's y/n. my mom told me you were back in town? you typed up, hitting send before you could think badly of it. immediately, you set the phone facing down on the table, making yourself get up and do something with yourself to ease the anxiety. it was 30 minutes later that he responded.

---

Hey, it's been a while.

Yea, I'm back in town. Do you need something?

You don't usually text.

you laid in bed, staring at the three, gray boxes, before responding.

oh, no, i don't need anything. i just heard you were getting renovations done, and decided to reach out and see if you needed a place to stay or anything.

sorry about this suddenness, i just know you don't usually stay here a while, and my mom was telling me all about it, so...

the jumping circles popped onto the screen. you bit your lip and tried to keep yourself from further simplifying this conversation.

Oh, I mean, that would be great. Renting here is harder than I'd thought it would be 😭😭

yea, it's always hard in small towns...

i just figured you'd appreciate it. i really don't mind. stay as long as you'd like, in fact. it's getting boring all alone, anyways

Thank you, Y/n. This is really a big help. The renovations won't take that long.

good to know :)

just come by whenever you'd like. my door is always open.

---

and open it was indeed.

---

when the doorbell rang, you made yourself calm down. made yourself breathe, before you walked down the stairs and unlocked the entrance. there he stood.

"hi." it really wasn't that big of a deal. in fact, it hardly meant anything at all. you knew he wouldn't bother you, even if you didn't know him that well anymore. so why were you so nervous, standing in front of him, surveying his every movement, his new appearance?

the last time you saw anakin skywalker was christmas dinner 3 years ago. he had been a thin, tall boy. now, he was a broader, taller man. his jaw was more strongly-set, his features a sharp fit of lines and angles, and his eyes, darkly blue in the shadows and shade. fortunately, he seemed just as nervous.

"hey," he spoke, lightly smiling, which surprised you, how easily his expression averted. you shifted on your feet awkwardly, clearing your throat.

"well, uhm, come— come in." you motioned him inside, stepping away from the door for him. "i'll show you around, and everything."

anakin nodded, licking his lips and stepping in. he let the handle of his suitcase drop and grabbed the smaller handle instead, lifting it off the ground. you took it from him, setting it aside.

"new house?" he asked, looking around.

"oh, yea. it's nothing much." you shrugged, following his gaze. "here, your room's upstairs." beforehand, you had cleaned every crevice and crack of the house thoroughly, and now, it was pretty much spotless. you heard him following behind you as you walked up the steps, pushing open the door across from yours and allowing him in. you cleaned this room extra thoroughly.

"this is it. if you need anything at all, just tell me. other than that, the essentials are all in here." you watched him walk inside, leaving his bag by the door. he turned to you, smiled.

"thank you for this, y/n. really, it's a huge help. i'm sure you know that, though."

you laughed it off, waving your hand in dismissal. "really, no need for thanks. just doing what friends do." though... the words felt somewhat sour on your tongue. anakin only nodded, shoving his hands in his the pockets of his hoodie. he stood in this casual sort of way, that made your own, awkward stance, look out of place.

"so, how are you, anyways? i just realized, we haven't caught up or anything. it's been... what..."

"3 years," you quickly filled in for him, shoulders bunching. he cocked his head.

"wow, already, huh?"

you swallowed, nodding. "yea.. already..." though it didn't feel like "already". "so, how.. how are you? how was new york? that's where you went, right?"

anakin ran a hand across his neck, a muscle jumping in his jaw as he set his teeth. "i've been good. new york was.. nice, yea. a bit... congested, but good. very pretty. it was nice to get away for a bit, y'know?" so 2 and a half years for him was "a bit". you bit the inside of your cheek.

"of course.. and you went... because...?"

you expected a quick response. something astounding. something unfathomable for a girl who'd lived in the same town her whole life. something only the streets and corridors of new york city could bring forth. but all anakin did was shrug and say, "job offering", which you wholeheartedly doubted.

"and how are you?" he asked a bit more awkwardly than before. you, confused, cleared your throat.

"yea, i'm good, too. i've been doing well. my mom says i need to get away for a bit, like you did. but... i don't know. i think we're opposite in that sense. i like it here." you shrugged, looking down at your feet. you saw him nod, and before he could say anything in response, you perked and slowly ran your hands down your jeans. "well, again, if you need anything, just let me know. feel free to make yourself comfortable, cook something to eat from the fridge or something."

anakin nodded, licking his lips. "alright. thanks again."

"any time, of course." and you backed out.

---

the morning sun had you squinting your eyes, rubbing the dregs of sleep from your face, and avoiding all the windows as you made your way downstairs and through the corridor to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

you hadn't seen anakin since last night, after you'd left his room and given him space to unpack. you were unsure where he was now, but you'd seen his car parked in your driveway, so he must've been home. and sure enough, there he sat, at the counter, looking fully awake. because only anakin could look fully awake at 9 am. he was nursing some cereal.

"up already?" you asked, sending him a nod of acknowledgment and turning to the coffee machine. "some things never change, huh?"

he chuckled behind you. "i guess not, especially since you still wake up late."

"you sound just like my mom." you filled the empty compartment with water and turned on the machine, turning to the counter at which he sat and sending him a smug look, before disappearing below to search for a mug. when you remerged you held up two. "coffee?"

he cocked his head, dropping his spoon in his now-empty bowl and leaning back in his chair. "i don't like coffee. thought you'd remember that."

you sighed a sarcastic 'ahhh', turning back around with both and setting one on the machine. "shame. i make the best coffee this town's ever had."

"oh, trust me. i remember just how it tasted," he laughed, and you chuckled yourself, slightly aching to remember that small little film shoved to the back of your head. 16, and best friends for what looked like would be life.

"then you should remember its awesomeness," you shot back, pushing away the thought. "or you should really polish up your memory. unless i can just make you one and restore it back to new right now?" the machine rumbled as it emptied gritted beans into the holder, and then, black liquid into your cup.

"still a no," he said anyways. you felt him walk up behind you, and you thought, for a moment, that he'd join your side, or something, but instead, he turned to the sink and began washing his dish and spoon. well, at least he had manners.

"one day, maybe." as the coffee worked, you turned to the kettle and heated up some water, pulling tea from your cupboard. you waited by its side, tapping your nail against the counter. "and how'd you sleep? is there anything i can get you, at all?"

over rushing, steaming water, anakin shook his head, turning off the faucet and wiping his hands on a nearby towel. he turned to you once done. "no, i'm good for now. and shit, your pillows are fucking clouds, did you know that?"

you laughed, turning around once you heard the beeping from the kettle. "what, you've been sleeping on bricks or something?" you grabbed the handle and emptied the liquid into his mug.

"feels like it compared to yours." when all was done, you left your own beverage on the machine, and instead, took the other cup of herbal water, turning to anakin, who had found his way back to his seat, watching you work, and pushing the mug to him across the table.

"just the way you still like it, i hope." obviously, to remember his favorite drink, you had the better memory of the two.

.

hey guys im back 🫶🏻🫶🏻

@blairwaldrfsworld i just feel like i had to get this out 'cause i know it's been a while since you requested it so i feel bad 😭😭 part 2 will be out soon i hope🙏🏻🙏🏻

also, can you tell the end was rushed? 😻😻

#anakin skywalker #fanfic #hayden #hayden christensen #star wars #anakin x reader #star wars anakin #fandom #sam monroe #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker masterlist #anakin x you #anakin imagine #sw anakin #anakin smut #obi wan and anakin #anakin and padme #hayden christensen x you #hayden christensen x reader #hayden.txt

[prismuffin]

Hi! I saw you did Sally Face, and you hadn't gotten a request for it yet.

So if you can, how about a Sal fisher x Male reader that's into studying witchcraft and the paranormal?

You can decide if this would be a drabble, one-shot, etc..

A/n: say less anon leave this to me🫡

Little Dark Age

Sal Fisher x male!reader who’s into witchcraft

kinda goes from headcanons to a little one-shot !!

warnings?: mentions of witchcraft and the paranormal,

!-!more under the cut!-!

—Honestly you being into witchcraft and all things spooky is probably how you met Sal.

—He'd definitely be intrigued, and would probably ask you for help in finding out the secrets of Addison Apartments

—You both click instantly, with his curiosity of the paranormal and your knowledge of it, you both fit hand in hand.

—He asks you a lot of questions regarding the paranormal and that's how he found out you're also into witchcraft.

—He makes jokes about potions and hexes and is actually shocked when you tell him that those are real, though they're not as drastic as people think. He quickly get's over his shock and quickly finds it super cool that you know about all of this stuff.

—He tells you about Megan and you suggest having a Séance in the room her ghost resides in to make it easier for him to communicate with her. It's now a regular thing you both do, sometimes you're able to contact her and other times you're not, either way Sal is still pretty impressed with your skill.

—You guys tried to get Larry to join you both for a Séance once but he freaked out after just stepping foot in the fifth floor, like he just refuses.

—The entire gang calling you a witch whenever they're talking about you

—Todd corrected them all once, calling you a wizard and not a witch since you're male and now it's the only thing Larry calls you. At least Sal still uses your name sometimes but Larry seems to have taken a vow to never say it again.

—After gaining a bit more trust in your relationship Sal would tell you about the shadow ghost he'd been seeing around, asking for help to contact it or seeing if you know more about it.

—You freak out when he tells you about it though he can tell you're trying to hide it. You give him a Hazar necklace (one of those blue-eye amulets) and tell him you'll place a protection spell on him while you look into his shadow entity.

—He now wears that amulet religiously and practically never takes it off.

—He's asked you to try and contact Larry's dad the way you do with Megan but you don't follow through with it since you're not sure how Larry would feel about it.

—When he first meets Ash he stupidly asks you to make a love potion for him. You tell him you won't do it because it can be dangerous and you're jealous, and he's a bit sad but understands nonetheless.

—I ran out of ideas so here's a one-shot about the scenario above

----

"Come on Y/n please! Just this once," Sal begged you as he stood in your living room, hoping that this time your answer would change, however it didn't. "No." "I'll never ask you for anything ever again! I swear! Come on man..use your wizard powers and whip something up for me!" "For the last time Sal, I am not making you a "love potion" for some stupid girl." You crossed your arms, a pout resting on your lips as your eyebrows furrowed. "Ash isn't stupid, she's-" Sal sighed in a lovesick way and you rolled your eyes. "Making a love potion can be dangerous, they tend to backfire, you know?" You drew Sal's attention back to you, staring into the holes of his mask where you could just barely make out his blue eyes. It took him a minute, but slowly he nodded, a sigh that you could barely make out escaped his lips and you chuckled.

"You could just confess to her you know?" You mentally cursed yourself out for suggesting such a thing. Even though a part of you wanted to help your dear friend with his girl problems another part of you wanted said girl out of his life completely. Luckily, Sal quickly shut down the idea, "No way man, it was hard enough for me to just become friends with her." You shook your head, biting back a teasing grin as you stared at Sal, "well sorry I can't exactly help you here. If you need me to summon the dead I'm all ears but you and your girl problems can go." You pointed towards the door with a quirk of you eyebrow and you barely saw Sal roll his eyes as he turned to leave with a huff. "Thanks for nothing Y/n, see ya." "Yeah yeah, see ya Sally Face." You sighed, hearing the door close behind, walking over to lock it back. You stared at the wooden frame as your mind wandered to the conversation that took place moments prior. A love potion...would it be hypocritical if you,,,- no! You quickly shook those thoughts from your head, scolding yourself as you walked to your room. Using a love spell on Sally would be ridiculous, not to mention the dangers you just warned Sal himself about. You flopped onto your bed, groaning into your hands as gay thoughts of you and one of your best friends flooded your mind. You can see why Sal felt hopeless enough to ask for a love potion in moments like these, a dry chuckle leaving your mouth at how hypocritical you sounded. 'Just confess to her' you said, as if you yourself don't tremble at the thought of doing the same thing. 'Maybe one day I'll tell him', you think, knowing in your heart that it's probably not true.

----!----

( i hope my limited knowledge on witchcraft and the paranormal was enough)

Thanks for reading! Have a great day/night!!

My requests are OPEN so feel free to request anything! Just make sure you check out my Request Info first!

See my DIRECTORY for upcoming fics!

Masterlist

#sal fisher #sally face #sally face x male reader #sally face x reader #sal fisher x male reader #sal fisher x reader #x male reader #male reader #x reader #fanfiction #sally face fanfiction #sally face headcanons #sal fisher x you #sal fisher headcanons #prismuffin #fanfic

[palskippah]

does Magma Mario shift between two forms? One human and one koopa. What’s the requirement for becoming koopa for her like full name or getting angry

Hi!

Yes, she's a shapeshifter and got those two forms only dhdjdh

[[I think I already said this somewhere, but she had to be human enough if she wanted to survive in Luigi's body 🧍 because had she been fully koopa it would have just kicked her out right away. Because a koopa (reptile) is not compatible with a human (mammal) but Bowser is a royal koopa and he has magic and stuff so his body makes it work 👁️👁️]]

She can control her shapeshifting at will, it's not really controlled by her emotions. If she gets very angry she'll growl and stomp and blow out smoke furiously, but if she wants to keep human form while she's throwing her tantrum, then that's how it's gonna be.

But if she's feeling sad or ashamed, for example, she would turn into koopa and hide inside her shell, until the unpleasant feeling goes away.

In fics they say sometimes that koopas got shell pockets, but what if when Magma keeps stuff in her shell and then shifts into human all her things just fall to the floor and she's like 🧍

When she was a baby though, she didn't have much control over it, and at random times she shifted into koopa or human. Magma was born human(ish) and not long after she was in Luigi's arms she shifted to koopa and him and Bowser (and Mario) were like :0 and :D because it was a pleasant surprise ajdkdhd

When she's human, I'm not thinking of it as keeping the koopa form down or anything (like she gotta shift to feel free in her body or something like that?) or viceversa. Like, both forms are Magma and most often it's the human one. But when she's human sometimes she feels her tail or tries to sweep it and realizes she doesn't have it at the moment (ghost tail??). Or her posture hunches, as if the form of her shell was at her back. (By the way, the shell magically appears as do the scales).

Also, and know that Luigi has never implied that he feels left out as the only human in their mostly koopa family, but Magma has favored since she was small her human form unconsciously to be like her mama- only that she's maybe three times his size when she's older, but that's beside the point. So maybe out of habit she keeps her human form more than the koopa (so Luigi isn't the only human in the family??)

Btw, she's as (very) tall in both forms, so in that way it doesn't make much of a difference. And she can breath fire (or maybe has a power-hand too like Luigi?) in both forms, so. She is a bit stronger as a koopa tho.

And here's a thing I drew the other day sjsjd where Magma has one of those walls where her height is tracked, and sometimes there's big growth spurts, and other times the difference each year is not very big.

Luigi is always the one to mark it, and he starts using a stool to reach her head way too soon in his opinion. Besides, Magma is very happy when she's taller because on one side is funny because Junior is shorter than her and she always makes sure to remind him of it, and on the other she can be as tall as her papa (which is cool!)

Also, a thing I talked with a mutual the other day, about how their fanbaby once becomes a teenager stops the saying daddy thing and just go with saying dad (and it breaks Bowser's heart JSKDHD). But I think it's funny and also cute that my aunts and mom are all grown ups and call my grandma mami still :'v So, Magma and Junior keep calling them mama and papa, even if the rest of the koopalings go with mom, ma, mommy, or dad, father, pa, or idk sjssh

Also, maybe all her clothes are magic-ed to not get in the way when she shapeshifts, so even as a koopa she wears her short-sleeved shirts and overalls.

Here's another drawing I did that I didn't like, but you can look at her face 🧍And she has purple eyes bc Bowser has red eyes and Luigi's are a light blue so why not mix them up. And in a post about the movie someone pointed out that Bowser got like retractile (??) front teeth and maybe Magma has those too, and if she applies enough force on her bite they come out.

#super mario bros #ask #my art #text #magma mario #thanks for the ask :] 💞 #bowuigi #implied? #bowuigi fankid #help i hope i actually answered your question ASJKDASJ

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Under The Stars and Stripes - One (Capt. Syverson x OFC)

a/n: look at your girl coming up with two multiparters at once!!! i wanted to write something sweet for capt. syverson (who moving forward, i have named luke, fyi), and my partner sort of suggested this (i mean, kinda, he thought it was what i was writing - turns out he was wrong but gave me a v good idea).

pairing: Capt. Syverson x Joanna Blake (OFC)

warnings/content: injuries, medical discussions, age gap (38 + 26), mentions of military service, inaccurate descriptions of physical therapy + military life.

word count: 1.9k

The unforgiving glare of the overhead lights in the medical center cast a harsh radiance over the waiting room. Luke's cerulean blue eyes squinted against the artificial glow in the room, his gaze wandering in search of anything remotely captivating. Opposite him, an infographic poster touted the virtues of physical activity and mental health, a message that seemed incongruous with the knee brace he begrudgingly wore. The irony of contemplating jogging or hitting the gym while nursing a wounded knee did not escape him.

"Luke Syverson?"

He swiveled his head in response to the melodic call of his name. In the doorway stood a woman, her blonde hair secured with a claw clip, a clipboard balanced gracefully in her hand. A warm, friendly smile adorned her heart-shaped face. With a half-hearted wave, Luke acknowledged her.

"Present and accounted for, ma'am."

Internally, he winced at the self-consciousness his response provoked. Rising to his feet, Luke attempted to distribute his weight favorably, minimizing the strain on his compromised leg. A sharp pang shot through his knee, confined by the rigid embrace of the brace. Collecting his crutches, he navigated his way toward the young woman, focusing on maintaining a semblance of grace. The crutches, tools of mobility he had resisted vehemently at home, now betrayed his struggle.

As he drew closer, Luke observed that she was notably younger than he, the realization of his own impending forties sinking in. Her olive-green eyes sparkled, framed by honey-colored strands that cascaded like molten gold. A sun-kissed radiance illuminated her complexion as she beamed at him.

"I'm Joanna. I'll be your physiotherapist moving forward. Let's head to the exam room; we can go over the paperwork together."

Her voice possessed a cheerfulness that could rival a weather reporter or red carpet interviewer. Luke nodded in understanding, trailing behind her as they entered the room. The once sterile lighting had mellowed, casting a more agreeable ambiance.

The examination room emanated professionalism, each piece of equipment meticulously arranged, and charts displayed with precision. Joanna gestured toward the examination table, indicating for Luke to take a seat. Settling into a chair nearby, she balanced the clipboard on her lap.

"Alright, Captain Syverson, let's delve into the paperwork and gain a betterunderstanding of your situation, ok?" Joanna initiated, her focus shifting to the documents before her. 

“Let’s start with the basics, full name and date of birth?”

“Right,” Luke began, “"Full name's Luke Everett Syverson, ma'am. Ain't much use for the middle one, but it's there. I was born April 15, 1968, ma'am, interrupted my ma’s Easter dinner. Home base is Fort Bragg, North Carolina, hence why I’m here in Durham. Otherwise woulda’ probably gone to the centre in Tennessee, closer to where I’m from and all..” 

“You know, I never use my middle name much either, but, just in case there’s two Luke Syversons in the armed forces, gotta include it to make sure I’ve got the right one.,” Joanna nodded her head, humming as she jotted down her notes.

The room embraced a quiet tension as Luke settled onto the examination table, his eyes following Joanna's movements with a mix of curiosity and wariness. The dimmed lighting cast a softer glow, alleviating the clinical starkness of the surroundings. Joanna, her gaze focused on the paperwork, began with a series of routine questions about the nature of Luke's injury.

"So, Luke," she started, her tone gentle yet professional, "tell me about when the injury occurred, and how has the journey been since then?"

Luke took a moment, his gaze drifting to a framed landscape photo on the wall. The distant mountains seemed to echo the weight of his thoughts. "Iraq. Torn ACL," he said, sparing the details but acknowledging the source of his struggle. "Routine patrol, turned into anything but routine."

Joanna nodded, recognizing the understated weight in his words. "I see. That's a significant injury. And you had surgery to correct it?"

Luke shifted his weight uncomfortably on the exam table, nodding his head. “Sure did, m’am, three days ago. Still hurts somethin’ fierce, but I guess that’s what I’m here for.”

He sighed, his focus on the knee brace that had become both a literal and symbolic constraint. 

“To be completely honest with ya, m’am, I just wanna get back on my feet so I can figure out what to do with my life now, you know?”

She nodded, understanding the complex emotions wrapped around his military service and the path to recovery. "Recovery and returning to civilian life is a process, Luke. We'll take it one step at a time. Do you have any idea what you’d like to end up doing in future?”

“I haven’t really thought about it. Never went to college, so a lot of stuff’s off the table now. Plus, I’m getting old. Not sure where that leaves me either. Thought about maybe becoming a police officer or an EMT, you know? I wanted to do that when I was a kid, but then joined the military on my 18th birthday instead.”

Joanna smiled warmly as she made a couple of notes on her paperwork, before continuing to further establish the details of Luke's history, the conversation shifting to one about his daily struggles and the impact the knee surgery had on his life. With each exchange, a bridge of understanding formed between them, an unspoken alliance forged in the pursuit of healing.

In those moments, Joanna glimpsed the man behind the military façade. Luke rarely dwelled on his time overseas, focusing instead on the immediate goal: shedding the brace and moving forward. The physical therapy sessions ahead were not merely about mending a knee; they were about reclaiming a life after two decades of military service.

As the examination progressed, Joanna outlined a personalized rehabilitation plan, detailing exercises and strategies to rebuild strength and mobility. The room, once filled with tension, now held a promise of progress and recovery.

"Alright, Luke," Joanna said, concluding their discussion, "we something to start with at least. Let's work together to get you back on your feet."

With the paperwork completed, the clipboard now resting on the desk, Joanna moved seamlessly into the practical aspect of Luke's rehabilitation. She began guiding him through a series of light exercises designed to gradually rebuild some of the strength in his knee that he’d lost. The atmosphere in the room shifted from contemplative to purposeful as Joanna demonstrated each movement with precision, her instructions clear and encouraging. 

Luke, though initially reserved, found himself following her lead, a quiet determination in his eyes. As they progressed through the exercises, Joanna observed the subtle signs of discomfort and adjusted the routine accordingly, ensuring that the session struck the delicate balance between challenge and progress. The room resonated with the rhythmic hum of therapeutic effort, a shared endeavor toward a future where the weight of the brace would be a distant memory. As the session neared its end, Joanna offered a reassuring smile.

"Great work today, Luke. We'll take it step by step, and before you know it, you'll be moving freely again."

“Thanks m’am, I appreciate it,” Luke replied, a soft smile forming on his lips.

“It’s what I’m here for,” Joanna nodded as she held the door open for him in an effort to make it easier to exit as he hopped on his crutches, “And Luke? I wanna hear that you’ve been using the crutches at home as well, or you’ll just injure your knee further.”

“Yes, m’am,” He chuckled, shaking his head as he made his way out of the clinic.

Later that night, Luke settled into the worn-out couch in his living room, the dim light casting a soft glow across the room. He dialed his younger brother Travis’ number, the anticipation of sharing his day evident in the subtle smile that played on his lips.

After a couple of rings, Travis’ voice came through the phone, lively and teasing.

“Well, well, if it ain't the elusive older brother himself. What's new, Luke?"

"Not much, just had my first therapy session today,” Luke chuckled softly as he took a bite out of his slice of pizza. 

"Therapy? Never thought I'd see the day, Luke. What's the world coming to?"

"It's for the knee, not my sanity, Travis."

"Alright, alright. So, how'd it go, Captain?"

"Surprisingly good, actually. The therapist, Joanna, she's something else. Got me doing all these exercises. Says I'll be back to hiking those Arkansas woods in no time."

“Joanna, huh? Luke, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a little bit of a thing for her. Florence Nightingale effect?"

"You watch too many movies, and besides, idiot, that’s when the therapist falls for the patient. Ain’t gonna happen. She's just good at her job, makes me feel less uncomfortable, I s’pose."

"Sure, sure. So, what's the verdict? She cute? Should I tell the kids they’ve got a new aunt?"

"You'll be waiting a long time for that. But seriously, it felt good, productive. And, she asked me about what I wanna do now. Got me thinkin’ about my options."

"Really? Did she smell the smoke? Set off a fire alarm?"

“Funny. I’m thinkin’ maybe becoming an EMT, you know? Can still help people, use my military training, just…stayin’ stateside and less sand.”

“You did always have a thing for helping people, I’ll give you that. Now, about Joanna…”

“Travis, forget it.”

“I’m just saying, Ma’s 60th birthday is coming up, and you know you’re in for a grillin’ about when you’re giving her grandbabies.”

“She has two already,” Luke protested, laughing as he took another slice from the box of pizza, “Besides,” he said with his mouthful, “I don’t know if I even want kids at this point. I’d be dead by the time they had kids”

“Well, if they take after you, maybe. I had kids at a reasonable age.”

“I s’pose, how are they anyway? Bet ya Hannah’s grown like a bad weed since I saw her last, and Maddie? She was knee-high to a grasshopper last time I saw her.”

“They’re good. Maddie’s almost 5 now, gettin’ quite feisty, like her mama, and Hannah’s taken up cheerleadin’, now I gotta become well-versed in making perfect pigtails in her hair if her mother’s busy with the little one.”

“Better you than me, Trav. Don’t think I could figure out how to do those tiny lil elastics.”

As Luke engaged in a heartfelt conversation with his brother, the echoes of family life stirred a contemplation of his own future. The tales of parenthood shared by his brother left a lingering thought.

 Did he, despite his usual reserved nature, harbour a desire for a family of his own? 

Love and romance had often found him awkward and uncertain, but when it came to showering affection on his nieces, those barriers melted away effortlessly. His musings naturally gravitated towards Joanna, her radiant smile replaying in his mind, illuminating the corners of his apartment like a beacon. 

The playful teasing from Travis planted an idea in his mind, one he never expected to be considering, which prompted Luke to consider whether there might be something extraordinary about his connection with Joanna.

Setting the cordless phone down on the table beside the couch, he sighed heavily, the weight of his newfound solitude settling in as he savored a third slice of pizza. His eyes roamed around the room, the empty expanse of his apartment feeling almost suffocating. The hush of the house, disrupted only by the dull roar of football highlights on the TV, intensified the solitude. In that moment, amidst the quietude, the prospect of companionship and a shared future became a lingering ember in Luke's thoughts.

#captain syverson fic #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson x ofc #cpt. syverson #cpt. syverson fanfiction #cpt. syverson fic #cpt. syverson x ofc #cpt. syverson x oc #captain syverson x oc #captain syverson #capt. syverson #capt. syverson fic #capt. syverson x ofc #capt. syverson x oc #henry cavill characters #henry cavill fanfiction

[y0urm4m]

BIKER CHRIS P.2

Warnings:swearing,suggestive content,fem reader,nickname “ma”,a bit of jealous Chris,fighting.

:y/n never really found her self getting along with Chris, but she always felt there was something deeper that drew them back to each other and that darn bike.

Quick A/N: I do apologise but I decided to change the perspective of the story to 1st person it just seemed better!

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

╰���➤ ❝𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚝, 𝚋𝚞𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚢𝚌𝚕𝚎, 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚎, 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚜 ❞

🏍️

——————————————

I sighed staring down at the message from Chris, what had I done I just had sex with my best friends brother, the brother that I was supposed to despise. “y/n?” Someone called out to me, shit it was Nick. Before he could walk in I straightened out my outfit, ruffled with my hair and hesitantly opened the door. “Heyy Nick, sorry I was just on the phone.”i said trying to play of the fact I was getting fucked by his brother not even 15 minutes ago. “Oh okay… You could have just came in and spoke to whoever was calling you,” Nick replied. I just nodded. “Anyways, I was thinking we could rewatch the scooby doo films!”he smiled. “Sounds fun.”I said smiling.

After putting my stuff in nicks room, getting some blankets and getting some junk food we sat down on the couch turning on the TV. But before I could get comfortable someone slid down beside me, it was Chris he just smirked at me before looking at the film that was currently playing. Nick seemed to take no notice in the short interaction that had just happened his focus on the film.

We were all sat in silence for roughly 30 minutes until I felt a hand on my thigh. It was Chris I just glared at him as he started making circles on my thigh with his thumb, for the rest of the film his thumb stayed on my thigh until Nick spoke. “I’m gonna go in my room now, y/n feel free to come in whenever cause I’ll probably just be on TikTok or something.” “Okay.”I replied smiling as he left the room, I waited until I knew Nick was in his room to turn to Chris. “Chris what the hell was that about?”I said frowning. “What was what?”he replied raising an eyebrow. “You know what I’m talking about don’t try be funny.”I hissed back at him. He just rolled his eyes standing up. “Go grab your jacket and meet me outside in five I’m taking you somewhere”he said before walking into his room.

Around 15 minutes later I walked outside to see Chris leaning against the garage his motorcycle next to him. “Where are we going?”I asked. “You’ll find out when we get there,”he replied smiling placing a helmet on my head. “Now get on.”he added looking towards his bike.

After we had both got on the bike Chris sped off down a quiet road, but as we went further down the road the sound of music getting louder and louder caught my attention. “Chris, now will you tell me where we’re going?” I asked once again. “We’re literally two minutes away, so you might as well wait.”he replied pulling up. Almost immediately the smell of tobacco and alcohol filled my nose. I looked around a small bar with loads of people and there motorcycles outside, was Chris in a biker gang? And as if he had read my mind he said. “No I’m not in a biker gang if that’s what you thinking, I just hang here with a few friends.”

We parked up and I slowly slid off the bike looking around, most of them looked like Middle Aged men apart from a group of four younger men and one girl which I’m guessing are Chris’ friends. “Just follow me you’ll be fine.” He spoke softly, placing his hand on the small of my back as we walked towards his group of friends. “Yo Chris who’s that?”One of the men spoke. Chris rolled his eyes, “this is y/n, y/n Marcus.” He said, looking down at me. I just awkwardly waved at them.

It had been around 30 minutes, and every time I tried to take in my surroundings I caught Marcus eyeing me up. I looked up at Chris in return he smiled. Obviously oblivious to his supposed friend eying me up. “Chris when are we going back? Nick also has no clue where we are.”I asked him, hoping he would realise how desperate I was to leave. “Soon I promise and Nick won’t care anyways.” He replied continuing his conversation with Marcus who in return just smirked at me.

Eventually Chris noticed the tension between me and Marcus and took me to the side and began speaking to me. “Is everything alright ma, you’ve been acting weird since we’ve been here?” “I’m fine I probably just need a cigarette break or something.”I mumbled, grabbing the box of cigarettes out my back pocket bringing one to my lips. “If you say so, I’m just going to speak to Aaron I’ll be back.” He whispered in my ear walking off.

I looked around awkwardly, Marcus looking right back at me. He began walking over. “So how come Chris hasn’t ever brought you here before, are you just one of his fuck buddies?”he spoke, turning his head to the side slightly. I didn’t answer, I was practically frozen in place. Around a bunch of bikers and possible criminals. I looked for Chris, no where to be seen. I just wanted to cry, I hated social events especially this. “Are you gonna answer me darlin?” Marcus chuckled. I just looked down. Please come back Chris. Please just walk back over here so we can leave.

It was as if god had answered my prayers, Chris caught my eye. He was coming back thank goodness. He walked over looking at me and Marcus. “You alright?” He asked Marcus. “Yeah, just speaking to your fuck buddy.”he replied kicking his foot back and forth.“What did you just call her?” Chris frowned. “Im guessing she’s your favourite fuck Buddy or something cause you never bring anyone here with you.”Marcus chuckled. I saw Chris’ fists tense as the words left Marcus’ mouth.

But just as Marcus began speaking I watched Chris punch him right in the jaw. “Chris!” I shouted. He didn’t reply, just carried on fighting with Marcus.

Everyone else around us was now paying attention. Chris’ supposed friends walking over to us. “What the fuck is going on.”one of them spoke to me, the other rushing forward to split the two of them up. “Don’t you ever speak to her like that again you fucking Jackass.” Chris spat walking back towards me. “We’re leaving.” He said sternly. I just nodded, turning to look back at Marcus. Marcus was now speaking to a few of the other bikers there, they all turned to look at us giving me dirty looks as me and Chris left.

Me and Chris didn’t speak once when we first left, but the sound of multiple motorcycles speeding up caught my attention. “Uh Chris, is that the only place where people meet up?” I asked turning to look behind me. “Uh yeah why?” He said confused.

When I turned to look behind me, I saw roughly 5 people including Marcus. They were following us. “Fuck Chris, I think Marcus followed us. And he’s not alone.” I whispered just loud enough for Chris to hear. As soon as I said that I felt Chris speed up. “Hold on, we will be home soon. I’m sorry for getting you in this shit ma.” He spoke softly. “It’s okay Chris it’s not your fault.” I sighed, looking back again. This time Marcus was closer he just smirked at me, the same smirk he’s been doing the whole night. As he sped up. “Chris, come back I just want to talk to you!” Marcus shouted. I frowned, fucking weirdo. “What’s up with your weird ass friends?”I asked. Chris payed no attention, still trying to get away from the bikers that were catching up on us now.

We had been driving for around 5 minutes now, driving down street after street. Turning corner after corner. I looked behind us. They were finally gone. “Chris there gone now.” I said loosening the grip I had around his waist. “I know, I’m taking you somewhere else.”He mumbled trying to keep his focus on the road. I looked around us, once again on a quiet road but this time it never got louder just quieter.

He slowly stopped, we were at a tiny field with a little hill. In the pitch black the only thing seen where the lights from the houses surrounding us. “What are we doing here Chris?” I asked. “Just wait.” He said, grabbing my wrist walking us up to the top of the hill. “This is where I go when I want to get away from everyone. I don’t ever see anyone here so I knew Marcus wouldn’t follow us down here.”he said smiling. “Chris this is beautiful.”I said, looking at the empty field. It was peaceful. I had never thought of Chris as a quiet place kind of person. “Well I’m glad you like it.” He said sitting down on the grass. I sat down next to him, as he took the helmet off my head and took his own one off.

“I’m sorry for tonight.” He apologised once again. “Chris y’know you don’t have to apologise again.”I said looking at him. He smiled slightly. “Chris I have two questions.” I said. He hummed in response. “Before all this, why did you always used to give me so much shit?” I asked playing with my fingers. He shrugged sighing. “I don’t know, I guess I just didn’t really know what to say to you.” “Oh, and what happened to me speaking to you in your room?” I said resting my head on his shoulder. “I guess I just wanted you to meet my friends but that didn’t end very well.”He said mumbling the end.

We sat in silence for around 5 minutes before he turned to look at me. “I know I’m really shit at these kinds of things- but y/n would you be my girlfriend?” He said smiling. My eyes widened slightly at the words that had just left his mouth. Chris sturniolo asking me to be his girlfriend was definitely not what I expected to leave his mouth.

He looked at me his smile fading as I still hadn’t replied. “So, Will you?” He asked once again. “Chris is that a silly question, of course I will!” I said smiling. He chuckled slightly before pulling me in pecking my lips.

——————————-

A/N: sorry for the short shitty ending I honestly fumbled on this hardd.. I just needed to get it out as it has been like 2 weeks or possibly longer.

Tag list: @junnniiieee07

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #mathew sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo

[callsignredwolf]

At Heaven's Gates

Pairing: Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x Guardian Angel!Reader Summary: In the vastness of the universe, there exists a world out there where you're Johnny's guardian angel. Warnings: Mentions of major character Death. Word Count: 1577

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Previous | Next

You were an angel, born in an instant. Whole and radiant, your soul was bound to another. A mortal soul, belonging to a sweet baby boy with rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes of blue. From the moment he drew breath, maybe even before, he was yours to watch over, yours to protect. His entire life was laid out before you, detailed in gold on a long, sprawling ledger. Every high and every low, from beginning to end. And with every moment etched into your mind, you set off to meet him, taking your place as his ever-present shadow, silent and waiting.

There's an old, dirt road leading all the way from Johnny's house to the aging, white church nestled in the hillside. It wasn't a short walk by any means, and he didn't understand why his Ma insisted on rousing the whole family at the peep of day, all so they could don their best garms and shuffle through the dirt, while everyone else road in cars.

"It's a waste, lamb," His mother had said to him that morning, only half paying him mind as she rummaged through her jewelry box. She made a small sound of relief once she found what she had been searching for, attaching the small pearl earring to her ear quickly before leaning into the mirror to check her lipstick.

"And anyway," she continued. "The neighbors only drive because they're wantin' to show off." And then she was on about the stuffy, old women in the church with their saggy stockings and floral perfume that always set her head off hurtin'.

"They're always lookin' as if they've got something to say, but never say it," she was saying, but truth be told, Johnny had stopped listening a while ago. She could go on all she wanted, but none of that explained why he had to suffer out in the chilly morning air wearing shoes that pinched his feet.

"Are you listenin', John?"

He most certainly was not.

"Yeah, Ma, I just don't understand why we've got to walk when no one else does." He knew he was whining, but in his defense, it usually worked in his favor. Johnny was the youngest of his three siblings, and his mother's clear favorite, though she'd never admit it. On most days, all it took was a little pressing and he'd have whatever he wanted. However, this morning did not belong to one of those days.

His mother looked at him through the mirror with an expression that was far less than amused.

"Well then, you clearly weren't listenin, were you?"

"I was, Ma. But-"

"Go on then, John. I won't work it 'round again with you again. We've got to be leaving soon. Go on and wait on the porch. I'll be out in a minute." She turned around to face him properly, giving him a pointed look with his same sapphire eyes. "Go on then."

It was safe to say, from that moment on, Johnny's mood had been ruined and in turn, his behavior only deteriorated as the morning progressed. He followed behind the rest of his family, sulking and kicking up rocks as he went. He hadn't meant for one of the tiny pebbles to soar higher than the others and strike his sister in the ankle, but that didn't save him the scolding form his father. And when his older brother had tried to raise his spirits with a bit of harmless horseplay as they approached the church, it was Johnny that received the stinging pinch to his arm.

"Stop carrying on like that," his mother hissed in his ear. "People will see and think we've raised a lot of heathens."

"You've gotten too big to be actin' a fool like that anyhow," his father added. When Johnny attempted to bring up his brother's involvement, who was a full two years older than his thirteen, he was met with a decisive hush.

Completely put out with his entire family, and in the mood to give them all a dose of punishing silence for the rest of the day, Johnny took his seat on the hard wooden pew, with his arms folded across his chest and a displeased scowl on his face. But despite his rear falling asleep ten minutes into the sermon and the booming voice of the preacher bouncing off the walls, a heavy cloud of sleep settled on Johnny's shoulders. He fought it off as best he could, but it was no use, and the next thing he knew, he was slinking through the church doors in the direction of home, his ear still aching from his mother's iron grip.

Now, the question of where you were this whole time is simply answered. You were with Johnny, as you had been every other moment of his life. From your place high up on the balcony, wooden banister pressing into your ribs, you saw the moment when Johnny had been sent home alone by his mother for falling asleep during service.

Normally, you would have found yourself giggling at the scene playing out before you, entertained by his silly antics. But today you couldn't bring yourself to even crack a smile. Instead, you were fraught with nerves.

The day Johnny was born, you were shown every moment of his life in vivid detail, and some of those moments were marked with stars. Destined and unchangeable, those moments were scattered all throughout his life, moments that would shape who he was as a person. Some were bright and full of love and excitement. Others, such as the one marked for today, loomed like a foreboding cloud that set your stomach fluttering with unease.

You followed behind him, down that long dirt road, an unseen apparition filled with worry. It was a car, set to come barreling down the road at any moment, that would strike your Johnny and send him tumbling down a rabbit hole of pain and brokenness, ambulances and hospital stays.

You'd seen it all yourself, and yet it was still so hard to imagine in this moment, when he walked just out of your reach, whole and unscarred.

The early spring breeze sent the tall grass on either side of the road moving back and forth like the waves of an ocean. Johnny raised his head and looked off at something you couldn't see. You didn't try to follow his gaze to see what caught his attention. Your mind was on something else, a plan that was unfolding suddenly, but still not fast enough.

You didn't have time to think it through, not when you thought you could hear the rumbling of an engine off in the distance. Not when your Johnny was in danger.

There, around his neck, was a sliver of blue. Not quite the color of his eyes, but just as shiny and bright. It was a hand me down, a tie that had been worn by his older cousin, then his brother, and now it hung undone on top of his collar.

You reached for it, unsure if your fingers would even be able to grasp the smooth material, but you decided to take the chance anyway. The surge of elation that flooded your veins as you pulled it free from his neck made you nearly jump for joy.

His head turned in your direction, a look of surprise painting his features. You heard him blurt out a word that would definitely land him in hot water if either of his parents had been around to hear, but you didn't care, taking off into the field of grass at your side with his tie in tow.

Of all the possible ways Johnny could imagine his day getting worse, losing his tie to a stiff breeze had not been one of them. The look in his mother's eyes had all but promised punishment when she returned home from church come the afternoon, and he shuddered to imagine how much angrier she would be if he admitted to losing his tie on the way home. Without hesitating, he darted off after the slip of fabric that was gliding and sailing further away from him with each passing second.

With a gleaming smile curling your lips, you cast a glance over your shoulder, the feeling of triumph practically radiating from you at the sight of Johnny hot on your heels. The road was disappearing as you ran further into the high grass, and when the ill-fated car came barreling down its path, it was nothing but a slash of silver in the distance.

You could hear Johnny closing the distance between you, muttering curses the whole way. You began to slow your pace as you approached a small tree with low branches. You climbed one and then another, dangling the tie from your fingertips in an attempt to look as natural as possible. Whether it did or not, you didn't care. All you cared about was him being safe. Your Johnny was sweaty and out of breath, and safe.

You watched him climb the first branch and then the second one, his face now just inches from yours. He couldn't see you, but as he pulled the tie from your fingers, there was a second, a heartbeat of a moment, where his blue eyes settled on you and warmth flooded your body down to your toes. It was then that you knew you loved him. Your Johnny.

#john soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #soap x reader #soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #call of duty #cod modern warfare #call of duty fanfic #soap mactavish fanfic #soap cod #soap fanfic

[k-marzolf]

Walk on water just to kiss me.

An idea I had because I used to write to a man as a teenager, of course there was no romantic interest, but I remember it always made me feel less lonely.

Word count: 714.

(cw; obsession, kissing, Marine!Billy, loneliness, a bit of Yandere!Billy, feelings of unworthiness, fear of abandonment, plus size reader, possessive thoughts, fem!reader)

You’d written to Billy while he was in Afghanistan, you must have gotten his name at one of those charity drives. And at first he groaned, he didn’t need charity. But you drew him in with your words, the clumsiness with which you spoke.

“Is it okay if I write? It’s okay if not, I just get lonely here.” You’d said, making his heart squeeze. “I always bothered ma and dad. Yours must be proud of you.”

He’d answered, “You can write, sweetheart. I never knew my dad. Mom abandoned me at a fire station in Albany.”

He expected pity, but he got compassion. “You should be proud of making something of yourself, Billy, despite your beginnings.”

And you asked if he had nightmares too, like you did, and if you could send him a rosé quartz, because “it helps with sleep if you put it under your pillow,” you’d said. You talked about your bunny, Piper, and how she bit people, and was always begging for fruit.

She’d recently bit your maintenance man.

“She’s a little spicy. I had to replace the wallpaper because she chewed on the wall.”

It was the first time he laughed in a while, a smile breaking out.

The next week he’d received the rosé quartz, and the guys gave him shit over it, but as he stared at the crystal, he felt a warmth bloom in his chest. A sort of obsession took hold, that had him constantly waiting for another letter.

A sickness in him when it took you a while to respond, worrying you just didn’t want to write anymore. He scolded himself for his attachment to you.

But he wanted you for himself. He didn’t want to share you, hiding your letters because he didn’t want the guys to see it, to love you too.

“Do you think I can be yours, Billy?” That had made him feral, he’d nearly ripped the letter he’d gripped it so hard.

“Is that what you want, pretty girl? To be mine?” He’d answered back.

You’d answered back in a week. “Yes.”

He realized somewhere along the way that he was more attached than was healthy, and so were you to him. You never spoke of any friends, and other than your bunny, you seemed completely alone.

“I grew up in the system.” You answered when he asked about family.

His heart ached when you mentioned you missed him, after he'd been unable to write for over a month. He noticed bunny chew marks on the pages, as though she’d tried to eat the letter.

And the smell of your perfume, subtle but a fitting aroma.

“I’m lonely, Billy. I’m sorry.” You’d written once when you kept sending him letter after letter, and fuck, he wanted to be at home with you. He hated attachments, but you’d come in like a thief in the night, taking ahold of him.

He’d laid awake at night imagining what you might look like, what your voice would sound like. What it would be like to have your body pressed against his. What it would feel like to kiss you, to taste you. You consumed him when he wasn’t on a mission.

And then, he met you at the airport. You were plus size. But Billy didn’t give a fuck. You were his, and that was all that mattered.

His mouth touched yours in a hard kiss, and you whined a little in shock, but opened up to him, your fingers gripping his sweater. You tasted like a sweet wine that you probably had before meeting him here.

“You’re real pretty, sweetheart.” He said, kissing you again, making you sigh into his mouth.

“You’re pretty, too.” You’d said shyly, looking at him from under your lashes.

Billy laughed. Goddamn, you were sweet.

He was never letting you go, he thought, kissing your forehead, his scruffy beard tickling your skin. He had something of his own now.

He felt unworthy of you, being just an orphan with nothing to his name. Nothing but the clothes on his back, and his little dinky apartment that couldn’t heat properly.

But he’d make himself worthy of you. He’d build up his dream in Anvil, and he’d make sure you were never lonely again.

He swore it.

Tags; @idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack @firexfate @aoi-targaryen

#billy russo #billy russo x reader