#but sitting in this apartment without anyone breaks my heart | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arminsumi · 7 months

Note

First request ever: Can you make a story about Gojo, where their both in a relationship but gojo had to end it because he was afraid that she would be in danger?

Thank you! Keep up the good work, I love your stories!!!

LET ME MARRY YOU

↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader

The risk of dating you his too much for him to handle, so he breaks it off, only for him to come back to your doorstep years later and ask: "Let me marry you."

Note : istg each time i edited this... the wordcount grew lol. i hope u enjoyyy 🥹💗 tysm for enjoying my work it means everything

Warnings : angst -> fluff (?) -> happy ending trust me, Shibuya arc spoilers (Ep 9), manga spoilers (chapter 221)

🍒 More from Jay : Gojo works / Gojo fave works / JJK works / oct. reqs open

The risk of dating you is thrilling when Satoru's just a teenager in puppy love. But as he grows older, and heads into those dreaded 20s, the risk makes him more and more nervous.

What if something happens to you?

He presses kiss after kiss to your forehead and feels his chest tremble, feels his lips quiver, as he refrains from telling you the truth about the Jujutsu world. Satoru just can't do it.

There are so many instances of him saving you from curses that you're oblivious about. He just smiles strangely, and you wonder why he looks like he's just seen a ghost. Because he has, those pretty eyes see ghosts. But those pretty eyes also see you, "What am I looking at?" he responds after you ask why he's looking at you so tenderly, "I'm looking at my future wife." he flirts just to fluster you.

That's at the cafe, when things are still simple. He keeps thinking to himself, as he lays with you in bed some nights;

I want to marry you.

I'm going to marry you.

Please let me be your husband one day.

As if he's trying to manifest it.

Everything is okay-ish... until he gets pangs of fright when your name starts to be known outside of his closed circle of friends.

It's October 11th.

Gojo Satoru breaks up with you.

He leads you to believe that the two of you are just "right person, wrong time". It all hurts an incomprehensible amount for him, to finally cut the string that tethers the two of you together.

He sits on the stairs, head in his hands, mourning.

He starts many mornings with crying spells that last until midday.

He destroys evidence of you and him. In case anyone ever finds it and thus finds your apartment, or work, or college... or anything.

But he can't part with a very special photo. It's you and him in Okinawa, sharing a cheesy kiss at the beach. In the moment this photo was captured, Gojo remembers having whispered some dirty joke in your ear and that's why you smiled so big into his kiss.

He drifts to sleep to the lullaby lovesongs that defined your love.

Years pass, he refuses to even talk to you. The heartbreak worsens with time, he laughs when he realizes that on his 27th birthday.

Isn't time supposed to heal all wounds? Someone said that to him once. Well, they must have been lying without realizing it.

The day Gojo Satoru is sealed, he looks into Suguru's eyes, and remembers you through them. When he resides in that awful prison realm, he only thinks of you you you you you you you oh god he misses you so much that it feels like the very thought of your smile stabs his chest. Every memory is painful. Every flashback puts one more crack in his heart.

"Can't I ever catch a break...?" He laughs to himself, chattering skeletons making their eerie symphony around him.

He thinks. Ponders. Wonders. Broods. Daydreams. All about you. Always about you. Never anything else. Just his first love, from the late spring of his 17th year.

His earthly goddess.

The purpose of his benevolent actions.

He cries. And sobs. And weeps. Because no one can hear him but the skeletons and he's sure they don't mind the sight or sound of a 27 man howling in pain over a lost lover.

It's not just your relationship that he's mourning. But the fact he can't feel you in this cube... that he can't feel your presence in the world... that's worse than the heartbreak. At least through all these years, he's been able to sense your existence. Feel the subtle ripples of your soul no matter how distant you are; you'd be stood in a coffee shop, he'd be at Jujutsu High teaching, and yet feeling you.

Because as he promised to you at 17, "Half my soul is yours. And half your soul is mine. I'll always be with you even if I'm not there."

He has the biggest breakdown of his life in that little cramped suffocating claustrophobic eerie creepy box.

It's 19 days later. He's out. He's back in the world. And he feels the sense of you, your existence, swelling in his chest, tickling his mind, prodding his heart.

"Gojo sensei, where are you headed?"

"I'm gonna go find my other half." he says cryptically.

It's a stark bright day.

Gojo Satoru knocks at your apartment door.

You open it.

He looks at you, and you look at him.

"Hi."

"...hey...? Wow. Haha... you grew into your features, huh?"

Your voice fills his heart with life.

"You too... glad you still live in the same place... I was worried you might have moved out..."

"... Ah, Satoru, you'd be able to find me no matter what corner of the world I resided in."

Your laugh fills his mind with pleasant memories.

There's an a magnetism between you and him just like there always used to be. It feels like two magnets connecting at last, after feeling the distant attraction throughout all these years of distance.

"You're right." Satoru says after a silence of just staring into your eyes.

"I'll always find my way home."

A silence ensues after he says this.

"...haha... don't cry... or I'll cry..."

"... Satoru... I thought of you every day after you left me at the station."

"... me too."

"... why did you leave?"

He stares at you.

"... I was scared of you being in danger."

He gulps.

"Me? In danger? But you're the strongest, why would it matter."

Oh god that's right. You said it then when you were 17, "You're the strongest" and he carried that title with him from then. And now you've said it again. He's reminded. He feels a bit stupid. A bit ridiculous. A bit...

"You're right..." he chokes up. "I am. I could have protected you I guess..."

"... yeah, duh."

He smiles meekly.

It was more complicated than that, sweetheart. But I won't tell you.

He hesitates. He contemplates.

"I have to tell you everything... will you promise to believe everything I say even if it sounds insane?"

"Of course. What is it?"

He inhales deeply. And instead of blurting out his whole life story of being a sorcerer in the Jujutsu world, he just leans in and kisses you hard and truthfully. Cups your cheeks. Closes his eyes. Tastes you like a sweet from his childhood that he hasn't had for years. Presses to you. Takes in your scent.

Yeah yeah... he'll tell you everything in a minute.

But for now just let him kiss you until he runs out of breath.

Let him just...

"Hey..." he pulls away, gasping, "Let me marry you."

"Haha, Satoru..." you take it as a joke and laugh, because it sounds as bizarre and unexpected as one. Then you realize there's that serious look on his face. "... Satoru?"

"Can I?"

"... what?"

"Can I please?"

"... huh??"

"Can I marry you, please?"

He looks at you and waits for your answer. His poor heart. It's palpitating. His whole chest cavity inspires with love for you. This man that you haven't seen in years has just asked if you'll let him marry you — with very specific wording.

Can he? Will you let him?

It's funny in a way, because you think to yourself; this is such a Satoru thing to do... show up unannounced years later on your doorstep and ask for your hand in marriage as if no time has passed, as if you know the full story.

"Satoru... what happened to you throughout these years for you to come back to me and ask for my hand in marriage?" you ask, genuinely baffled.

He swallows slowly. "I know I sound like I've lost my mind. But I promise I haven't."

"That's hard to believe. The Satoru I remember was always on the brink of mania. A bit insane but not quite."

You make him laugh. "Yeah..."

"So are you asking to marry me out of insanity?"

"No."

"Well alright then. I guess I'll marry you."

You make him laugh again, with that funny tone. He hasn't laughed genuinely in years... it's always been that plastic laugh. But this is his genuine laugh. Silky and quiet. The opposite of his demeanor.

"I guess I should be explaining everything to you properly... before I ask you something like that."

"You're damn right..."

"... don't scold me too hard when I tell you all the reasons I left. Or, if you do, then at least hold me while you scold me. And run your fingers through my hair like you used to."

"Satoru."

"Yes?"

His heart throbs. He looks at you.

"Stop standing at the doorway and come inside."

"Oh."

You sigh. He smiles. Then he bows his head so it doesn't hit the top of the doorframe. Damn tiny Tokyo apartments. Your archway always had it out for the crown of his head. You laugh when he bumps into it just like he always used to.

So the two of you sit down and just talk. And talk. Maybe cry a bit. Actually, you cry a lot. And he holds you. And he says he's sorry. He says sorry over and over, as if the word is a bandage he's trying to wrap around all your heartbreak wounds that he caused.

"I'm sorry."

Satoru's apologies aren't easy to come by, and when you receive them, they nurse your heart. It's the gentleness with which he says it, and earnest too. Each successive sorry means more than the last.

"My angel..."

When you call him this after he vents to you about his time in the Prison Realm, and his overwhelming duty of being the strongest, he breaks down completely and just weeps in your arms.

He sobs like you've never heard him sob before, like a dog.

Finally. At least for a moment. He could be weak. Let down his guard. Be raw. Be emotional. Not a teacher. Not a sorcerer. Just your boy. Your Satoru.

Your consolation is all he wanted throughout these years. He looks up at you, eyes red and sore, nose sniffling, and stares at you like he can see your soul.

"...Satoru?"

"Marry me."

You chuckle again.

"If that will stop your tears..." you joke.

He sniffles loudly and swallows, composing himself.

"I thought about marrying you so much when we were together... 'n I tried so hard to bite my tongue when your name nearly rolled off it while talking to my students some days. I was always..."

On the verge of saying your name.

He sniffles long and hard and waits for your hand to weave into his hair.

"Will you think about it?"

"I will."

There's a silence. Satoru feels hopeful. He lays on your chest, arms around you like you're his whole world that he won't dare let go of again.

"There." you say with finality. "I thought about it. Let's get married."

"That took you, like, ten seconds."

You laugh with him. "Yeah... I already knew in my heart when you asked me at the doorway... you know... Satoru... it's funny. When you left, it felt like half my soul was gone. And when you knocked on my doorstep, it felt like I was whole again. Does that sound freaky, or does it tie into all this... Juju... Jujutsu stuff?"

He's silent.

"I have no idea."

"Wow. My future husband isn't knowledgeable at all." you joke.

His heart flutters at 'future husband'.

"Sorry." he says, smiling softly, "My mind is blank when your fingers are running through my hair."

The two of you go on and on, until you're laid in bed sleeping at each other's side. Resting. And god, did Gojo Satoru need a good rest.

In your arms, he's no longer an insomniac.

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

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meiieiri · 3 months

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𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 [geto suguru]

synopsis: suguru geto upped and left that day without a moment’s notice and he took everything with him — your heart, your soul — but as you look at the positive pregnancy test in your hand, you realize that he did in fact leave one thing behind.

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, angst, explicit sex.

a/n: i know, i know. i should be writing WE but this concept has been in my head far longer than WE and i just need to get it out there or else, i think i’m gonna go insane. if anyone wants to know the plot of this would have been fic, feel free to let me know lmao, of course it still involves gojo bc i can’t choose between the two of them since they’re both so baby girl—! also happy birthday to the loml, my pookie-wookie, honeybunch, suguru geto!!

It’s been a year since the happy side trip to Okinawa became a living nightmare that culminated in you, Suguru Geto, and Satoru Gojo on the brink of death and with many more scars than you could have ever imagined. The three of you had very different ideas on how to cope. Satoru spends the past year perfecting his cursed technique, often at the expense of his emotional well-being and energy but then again, after what Toji Fushiguro did to him leaving him with the trauma of being slaughtered without regard, it was only natural.

You and Suguru on the other hand retreated into yourselves; it was hard to believe that just a year before the two of you were a normal teenage couple who enjoyed walking the trendy streets of Shibuya in the weekend sunshine without a care in the world, whose only real problem is to decide where the two of you were gonna have your weekly dates.

Now, things were different. Rainclouds have gathered effectively blocking out the sun. As you sat on the desk reading through your textbook on reverse cursed technique, you glance at Suguru from time to time and you aren’t the least bit surprised to see him sitting by the dorm room’s windowsill, staring at the garden with an empty gaze.

You’ve had enough of this. This eternal state of limbo was tearing you and Suguru apart.

Slowly, you stand up from the desk, softly padding across the wooden floor to where your boyfriend is. It was the middle of the night, last you checked, it’s already nine in the evening. You should be heading back to the women’s dorms now but you couldn’t, not when things were like this, not when Suguru’s losing himself day after day, you can’t help him, you know that, but you could be there for him seeing that’s all you can do.

But even then, it’s never enough.

Your relationship with Suguru is like a lit dynamite stick, you know that it’s only a matter of time before it also explodes in your faces. So, Suguru takes the lead, like he always does, he’s so much wiser and stronger than you in every way though he doesn’t care to admit it, though he pretends he doesn’t know why you’re so dependent on him.

“I think we should break up.”

He says that while holding your hand. You saw this coming but just how long did you anticipate that the love of your life would eventually up and leave you? You squeeze his hand with every ounce of the grief you are feeling hoping it would transcend the confines of your skin and it would reach his heart. “Is that what you really want?”

“No.”

He stands up to meet your gaze, the throw blanket falling to the floor as he does. He leans in closer, his hand cupping your cheek with such tenderness and heartache that you feel your heart rise to your throat. Suguru is normally so gentle like a shower of midnight rain, but he kisses you like this is the last — it probably is. Lost in him, your hands trail over his chest, and he deepens the kiss hoping that you’d also understand that he doesn’t really want to leave but he has to. He can’t bear to drag you into his mess.

He could never do that to you.

You respond with a soft moan when Suguru slowly lifts your shirt over your head. He stares at your plump breasts for a moment, covered only by a thin lace-like material, before deciding that looking at you wasn’t enough. He has to take you, ravish you, fondle you, kiss you. Anything to let you know that he’s not doing this because he’s fallen out of love with you.

“Don’t leave,” you plead in between his soft kisses to your breasts, tears slipping from your eyes as he removes your bra, letting it slip from your shoulders which he was now kissing up to the crook of your neck. How could your hearts be so full yet so empty at the same time?

None of what happened should have caused this much heartache between the two of you. In fact, it should have made you rely on each more, right? It should have strengthened you not destroy everything you had: each other, the future you planned together.

Suguru doesn’t answer as he nips at your neck, sucking on the delicate flesh, as your forms gracefully fall on the bed, he stares at you with such love, such devotion, and you wonder why this should be the last time. His gaze falls to your vulnerable form, his cock hardening at the sight of your clothed pussy getting wet just from that. He grinds against you, sighing at the way you buck your hips to meet his wanting more of him. If this was to be the last time, then, you want to make it count.

“Suguru, I’m yours.” That’s all he needs to hear and he removes your underwear, kissing down your leg as he slips it off of you. He tosses it onto his nightstand, and he leans towards it to grab a condom from his drawer. You catch his hand. “Don’t. I want to feel you.”

Suguru’s eyes widen at your request, his lips eliciting short huffs of breath. He’s never fucked you raw before. “Are you sure?”

You nod against his forehead. “Please. Please fuck me, Su.”

Slowly, his hand guiding his tip up and down your slit, smearing your wetness along the base of his cock before slowly pushing into you savoring the sensation of your cunt squeezing around him as he stretches you with his girth. A deep groan betrays him and his mouth hangs open as your tight walls envelop him as he bottoms out. He takes a moment to collect himself, not wanting to cum right then and there.

“S-shit. Ah, you’re so fucking tight.” He allows himself a small thrust, the tip of his cock already nudging your sensitive spot, having memorized you after many desperate nights of lovemaking. His fingers grip the soft skin of your hips as he pulls out momentarily before pushing back in again more forcefully this time.

“S-su! Mngh—please fuck me—I love you, I love you, I love you,” you beg.

A tear slips from Suguru’s eyes, it was becoming more real now — this final goodbye. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he slowly builds up the pace of his thrusts, his cock bullying your cunt, driving himself in and out of your pussy, again and again. He brings your leg to his waist, holding it so he could angle himself better. “I love you too.”

You mewl as he pistons in and out of you, his balls slapping hard against your skin. “Sugu—ah! More—n-need more of you—“ You’re crying now, and he is too as he continues to ravage your pussy, his hand finds your other leg and he pushes your knees close to your chest, folding you into a deep mating press, slamming into your cunt.

“I’m yours. Always,” Suguru looks into your eyes amidst your desperate cries, your thighs trembling under his passionate gaze. He grunts when he feels the familiar tightening of your walls. “You’re close—fuck,” he takes this as an incentive to go faster, harder, and he fucks you in a way he never has before.

“So good—oh—“ you fall silent as he suddenly brings your hands to your clit, letting you touch yourself. You looked so beautiful like this, under him, your head thrown back against the pillows, your mouth primed in a silent ‘o’. He pants as he feels his balls tighten when your hips involuntarily buck into him as you climax. “Suguru!”

“Ah, baby…” He groans, the hot breath from his lips tickling your forehead as he rides out his high, spilling his seed into you not caring what the consequences may be. You did want this after all, and he did too. You feel full just from the sensation of his thick cum, he thrusts into you one last time, further smearing his release in your walls.

You sighed as he stays there, your weak and trembling arms coming up to embrace him. He strokes your hair, memorizing each lock, pulling out after a while. Suguru pulls you flush against his chest, the remnants of his and your release sliding down your thighs. “It’ll be okay,” Suguru catches his breath, kissing your temple. “Even without me. You’ll be okay.”

“I won’t…you know I won’t.”

“You will.” He says firmly. “I promise. You know me, baby, I never break my promises.” You feel tears well up in your eyes again and he tenderly wipes it away. “I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too.”

By the next morning, you already knew with the way the AC’s cold air nips at your skin without Suguru, your Suguru, there to embrace you that he’s already left.

Without a note, without a goodbye. Typical of Suguru who doesn’t want to stick around to see you cry.

You curl into yourself as sobs wrack your body, the promise ring Suguru gave you gleaming under the rays of morning sunlight.

A few years later, just as Suguru said, things did get better. You smiled as you arranged the last of the tempura into the bento box filled with soba noodles with nori and small containers of mentsuyu and wasabi. It’s amazing how much she takes after him. You look at the clock and your face pales. You’re running late, so, you head upstairs to speed things up a little. You creak open the door to see the little blessing of your life, the last gift Suguru ever gave you. She’s looking at the picture of you and Suguru which you placed in her room, and since you know it was highly unlikely she’ll ever meet your lover in this lifetime, you’ve decided you want her to know him if by his appearance alone and the stories you tell her.

“Riko? We’re gonna be late,” you gently reminded your four-year-old daughter. You shoot her a funny look when you see the haphazard way she placed her hair in a bun. She pouts as she tries to get it right again, looking at her father’s picture intently. “Sweetheart, are you trying to look like—?”

“Like papa,” she huffs cutely and you chuckle, moving to pick her up and sit her down on your lap. Kissing her cheek, you also gaze at the picture depicting a candid you and Suguru during your first year at Tokyo Jujutsu Technical College. He has his arm wrapped around your shoulder, winking at the camera as he kisses your cheek, a silent gleeful laugh on your face.

You look at her, a little confused, you gently smooth her hair before planting a kiss between her eyebrows. “And why do you want to look like papa?” Riko shyly looks away, her ears turning a little red as she blushes, a trait she inherited from you. You flick her nose, giggling. “Well?” Riko laughs at the playful gesture.

“…So you don’t cry anymore, mama.” Your heart seems to have stopped beating for a moment and a warm, tearful smile appears on your face, wrapping Riko in a bone-crushingly tender hug. “Love you…” she sinks into the warmth of your hug and you kiss the top of her head.

“I love you, Riko. So…so…much.”

At that, your little girl sighs in relief. “School?” she tilts her head and you suddenly remembered the reason you went upstairs. You had to get moving. Your eyes widened and you carry her downstairs, being careful not to jostle her too much. “My hair, mama!” she giggles at her still unruly hair and you grimace in embarrassment. Suddenly, the front door opens and Riko sees who it is, before you could grab the spare brush from your bag, she suddenly jumps out of your arms and makes a beeline for the door.

“Papa, papa!”

You turn around and though the sight pains you to this day, somehow, you’re starting to learn to live with the fact that things are always bound to change with time and that this is what Suguru would have wanted: a loving and complete family for his little girl. You wrap Riko’s bento and place it in her lunchbox before going to greet the visitor.

“Hi, babe.” He turns to meet your lips for a sweet kiss, balancing Riko in his strong arms.

“Good morning, Satoru.”

#geto x y/n #geto smut #geto suguru smut #geto suguru headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #geto suguru #geto suguru x y/n #geto x you smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto #geto angst #geto x you

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jongseongsnudes · 3 months

Text

team captain

bf!nishimura. 1k words. so flufffffffy. [note]: this can be read alone or as apart of my badboy!niki series drabbles. warning, it’s so cringey and cute i’m literally kicking my feet lmao

“oh my god look how brown it’s getting!” you cheer more to yourself than anyone, the sight of your marshmallow changing colour over the fire exciting you a little too much.

after getting it perfect, you finally look up to realise that everyone who was sitting around the bonfire before... was now gone. how or when, you’re not even sure, but the loud chatting and laughter coming from inside the house tells you that they’re all inside now.

shrugging, you get up from your squatting position and was about to head inside too when you notice niki, sitting in his chair right behind you with the cutest grin on his face. the boy had been so quiet the entire time that you didn’t even know he was there.

you’re so startled by his appearance that you almost fall backwards but luckily for you, your team captain boyfriend was quick to grab your arm, pulling you to him. specifically, onto his lap. you’re now seated across his lap, his arms around your waist to hold you, his face just a breath away from yours.

gulp.

the boy was truly the most handsomest you’ve ever seen. no matter how many times you see him, his face still manages to surprise you, just like the very first time. it’s something you’ll never admit to him though, not when his head was already so big.

“i’m starting to think you’re clumsy on purpose, just so i can save you,” he rolls his eyes at you, “because i don’t know anyone as clumsy as you.”

“w- well you should’ve said something! you scared me!”

“right. as if you didn’t sense me staring at you the entire time?”

“you-” you pause, brows raising at the realisation of his words, “... why were you staring at me the entire time nishimura? creep!”

instead of an insulting response like you had fully expected from him, the boy stays completely silent. his eyes however, drops down to your lips, gazing at it for a few moments. you’re unsure of what his intentions were but it was making you nervous either way.

“what? can’t i stare at my girlfriend?”

gulp.

“well- well yeah but! but! but make some noise next time-”

to your surprise, niki leans in without warning, kissing you and shutting you up. seeing you so startled yet again, the boy immediately breaks into laughter like it was he funniest thing to him.

“you don’t understand how pretty you are, miss class president,” he says with a smile, one so sweet you swore your heart just melted over it, “you’d be staring at you too if you were me.”

you’ve been together for a few months now and although you’ve had your fair share of sweet moments, this time topped it all. his gaze, his smile, his words, all seemed so genuine. like he meant every single thing.

everyone knew how niki was, someone so tsundere, so unbothered, so unserious, so seeing him this way had your emotions and thoughts going wild.

it had you thinking if this could really last, if it could really be more than just a stupid high school relationship.

it had you thinking about your future after high school, whether you and him could really make it work. you haven’t brought up the topic with him, but it has surely been on your mind more with graduation quickly approaching.

“it better be me you’re thinking of right now in this head of yours,” he playfully knocks into your head, bringing you out of your deep thoughts, “or else you have no reason to be smiling like that.”

“unfortunately... it always is. you and your... big mouth!”

the face he makes is one of anger, confusion and surprise, all in one. the view instantly had you in giggles, so much so that you almost fall off his lap. but the boy doesn’t let you have your moment for too long, his fingers at your waist, ready to do what they do best.

“niki- no- no- ahhh!”

you were giggling again, only this time it was caused by niki nishimura tickling your sides. you wanted to run away from the boy, but how could you when you’re trapped in his hold, on his lap. there was literally no escape!

“ni- nish- nishimura! stop! please!”

the boy really does do as asked, stopping his fingers and quickly helping you fix your creased up top. he’s also laughing, eyes in complete moon shapes at your struggles, and although you want to smack him, you end up chuckling as well.

“so... can i kiss you now with my big mouth or?”

“since when do you even ask?” you playfully roll your eyes, “what’s with you today? you’re being a bit weird. more so than usual.”

“ha funny,” the boy mocks you, his fingers reaching up to flick your forehead, “maybe i just realised how much i actually like you.”

you could feel your cheeks immediately heating up, hands a little clammy from his sudden confession, but it’s his gaze that catches you off guard. the way they’re looking directly into yours, with so much hope, so much adoration. you have no idea how to respond to him but you do know that your heart is currently going crazy in your chest.

“you just realised? pfffft,” you manage to make a joke, using it to hide away your current urge of wanting to scream and kick your feet at how cute he looked.

“yeah... and it’s crazy how much i actually do.”

now it was your turn to go quiet, no longer laughing or making jokes. without thought, you lean in and kiss the boy. softly and sweetly.

niki’s arms around you tighten as yours rest on his chest, the two of you enjoying the moment in silence. it’s crazy when you realise how your relationship with him used to be like, full of screaming and fighting every single day.

it was too early to claim you l-word the tall boy but judging from how you were currently feeling, you’re sure you’re almost there.

“nishimura-”

“OH MY GOD! NOT THE MARSHMALLOW! what did the marshmallow do to you guys?!” both you and niki turn towards the dramatic voice, just to see taki and maki both staring at the ground where you had dropped your much forgotten marshmallow earlier.

“i dropped it by accident-”

“because you guys were busy making out??” maki chimes in, his expression so sad you’d think something actually happened, “don’t you guys do that enough?? i saw you two in the lockerroom yesterday too!”

“it’s like that’s all you guys do. our captain is such a simp-”

the two boys immediately stop talking once they notice the change in niki’s face, one so grim, so irritated. similar to the one he usually had during practice... before a finals game.

even you were scared of that face, let alone the boys on the team.

“i’ll be right back baby,” the team captain says calmly while helping you to stand up. he pats the back of your head before turning to face the two screaming boys who were already sprinting around the yard.

you can’t help but giggle at the sight, a memory you’ll surely hold onto for a very long time. although your future with niki remains unclear, you realise that what mattered more was now, in this very moment.

and in this very moment, you were happy.

end.

2024 © jongseongsnudes on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.

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marigoldenblooms · 1 month

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Drunken Confessions - Drabble

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Agent!Reader

Prompt: You never called on her for anything, always staying at a distance from Natasha. She was starting to think you hated her, that your lingering glances and continual avoidance was because you didn’t want to know her. That changes when you call her drunk off your ass at 1 am.

MINORS DNI - 18+

Tags: Drunkenness, slight drunken confessions, mentions of harassment, Reader calls Natasha “Natty,” Natasha calls reader “Agent,” Natasha has a motorcycle, fluff, hurt/comfort.

A/N: Had this one in my word counter for a while, and thought I’d finish it up! Quick little doozy, wanted a break from all the smut totally wholesome drafts I have going (although none of my work is not 18+ even without smut content! Once again, Minors DNI!) Biker women own my heart (I’d love to do a proper Biker!AU if anyone’s got any ideas!) Asks/requests are open! Director!N x Actor!R x Actor!W is coming soon... >:))

Word Count: 777 - Read Length: 2 minutes, 50 seconds. Pictures aren't mine, credit to their owners!

~~~

It had been a while since you’d been out drinking, and even longer since you asked for Natasha’s help. You were acquaintances, perhaps even coworkers, but she thought it stopped there. You always avoided her- you were a beautiful stranger, lost in the night. And even still, when she heard her phone buzz with your ringtone this late, she picked up without a second thought.

“Agent?” She’d question, brow furrowing as she’d sit up, slinging her arm across her knee. She could hear the sound of cars around you, though from your heavy, stumbling footfalls you weren’t in one. You were drunk.

“Natty..-“ you’d keen and she’d blush, wiping the sleep from her face as Natasha tried to ignore the sweetness in your tone, and the nickname on your lips- never used for her. She wished it came out of your sober mouth. You’d stop walking and she’d hear you huff, stuck in an alleyway you didn’t recognize. “I think I’m..-lost, I’m lost, fuck-“

“And I’m awake,” she’d respond, voice gravelly and thick, but focused as she’d pull on clothes, and you heard the rustle. Your voice would drop into a secretive whisper, still too loud to be actually effective, “Natty, Natty- are you…naked-??”

“No,” Natasha would be grabbing her motorcycle keys and jacket now, slung loose over one shoulder before you heard the sound of her door, and seconds later the ignition of some vehicle. “I’m coming to get you, Agent. Gimme a landmark-“

“There’s a Mc…a Burger King, next to me, mm-“ Your mumble about being hungry was lost on her as Natasha’s tires would squeal across the road, its emptiness allowing her to climb speed quickly. Her voice was closer now, spoken through her helmet’s microphone, “Stay put, I’m on my way.”

------------------------------------------

“He was… was callin’ me ugly-“ you slur, a blush alighting your cheeks. You’d hiccup, earning a chuckle from Natasha’s focused expression on the road. She’d picked you up minutes ago, careful to drive slower with your arms slung sloppily around her waist. You’d been telling her something about a rude man at the bar, disgruntled by your refusal to ‘go home to his smelly apartment,’ as your mocking voice had put it, “On the inside, and- and the…..outside, mhm!”

Natasha would chuckle again, expecting the insult to roll off your drunken facade, but instead your shoulders shook against her back. Slowing to a crawl on the side of the road, she’d look back to see your face looking crumbled- gleaming with tears. You hiccup again and Natasha turned off the bike, trying to soothe you with an awkward hand around you. She’d pull your side against hers, helmet in the crook of her other elbow as she’d whisper to you, “Hey, hey Agent, it’s alright, shhh..” Natasha’s hand would’ve risen to your cheek, prickling goosebumps down your spine as her thumb would wipe your tears away. Your fingers would’ve risen to hers, taking her palm gently before placing a kiss on it. She’d shift her hand away and you’d meet her gaze- her mouth was open, and your eyes darted down to it. “Natty..” your eyebrows would furrow, pouting as she’d escape your touch, “Why won’t you kiss me, Natty?”

“Because you’re drunk,” She’d roll her shoulders and you’d watch with wonder as her muscles moved beneath thin fabric, Natasha’s coat now on you. You’d have to pick your jaw off the road once you were done. Her words would almost startle you, “And you don’t know what you’re doing, Agent. Why did you call me?”

“I..” You’d begin, yet your words left you as soon as you started them. You could never think when she was around- distance was necessary for professionalism. You hoped liquid confidence would be enough to bridge the gap, and ask the attractive redhead for coffee tomorrow. You overdid it. You forgot what she even asked, “But I want- want you. Don’t you want me?”

Your declaration made her smile, and you decided then that you wanted her to do that again. Needed her to. Natasha shook her head, and she thanked your drunken stupor for you not noticing the blush on her face. She’d turn around, donning her helmet again- her voice muffled now, “You’re drunk, Agent. Let’s talk about this tomorrow, alright?”

“Mhmm..” You’d settle, pulling yourself against her back. “So warm..” you’d murmur, crooning into her shoulder. You’d hear the woman snicker, before the bike underneath you thrummed to life. Maybe if that conversation went well, your thoughts sluggishly considered- she’d teach you how to ride it. If Natasha’s playful snicker at your words was any indication, your chance was pretty high.

~~~

#minors dni #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel #marvel mcu #mcu #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanov #natasha romonova #black widow x female reader #drabble #my fic #bearrrwrites

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saetoru · 11 months

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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。08:00 PM — AL-HAITHAM.

idk i just felt like. writing haitham grieving his grandmother. it’s also a slight character study ig. idk if anyone will read this but if you do. just know that he is the core of my heart. his grandmother too i mourn her death so much sobs

“hey,” you say gently, sitting next to him. al-haitham only grunts in acknowledgment, slumped on the couch. “d’you want dinner? i made your favorite.”

“not hungry,” he mumbles.

his grandmother’s death anniversary is a sore spot. it’s a day you tiptoe around carefully every year. you don’t know much about his family—just that he was orphaned very young and raised by his father’s mother until the ripe age of 16. you’ve seen the dainty handwriting inside the covers of books, and you’ve even seen a small, framed photograph that he keeps stowed away.

sometimes, you wish he’d tell you. you wish the far away look and the clenched fist around the fabric of his pants would ease with your presence. you wish he’d tell you about her, that you’d know the woman who raised the man you love—even if only through hushed words and old stories.

“you hate sleeping on an empty stomach,” you hum, placing your hand over his clenched one.

his fist loosens a little—progress.

“i…” he pauses, let’s out a heavy sigh before letting his head fall back. there’s tension in his shoulders, in his neck, in the jaw he keeps so tightly clenched. “i won’t be sleeping for a bit. sorry,” he tries to sound apologetic. you don’t hear much in his tone besides defeat. “you can head in without me.”

“that’s okay,” you shrug, forcing his clenched fingers apart to weave yours in with his. “i don’t sleep well without you anyway.”

“suit yourself,” is all he says.

and it’s silent for a bit. he seems to be thinking deeply—or reminiscing, maybe grieving. maybe all three, but you’re not too sure. you’re never too sure when it comes to how al-haitham feels about anything.

he’s hard to decipher—but he’s easy to pull apart. you don’t understand how someone as hard and calculating as him is so gentle with love, but it’s hard not to notice how soft his touch is, how it lingers, how the tips of his fingers long for you. you don’t doubt he loves you—he never gives you the chance to.

but sometimes….sometimes you wish he’d let you love him properly. to kiss the scars. to admire the parts he thinks are ugly. to shelter the thoughts that have no home besides his own head.

it’s silent for a bit—until it’s not. you break the silence first, like you’re holding a hand out for him from the shore as he drifts aimlessly.

“baby?” you ask quietly. he grunts again in response. “what was she like?”

“who?”

al-haitham is a smart man. probably the smartest you’ve ever met. you don’t think you’ve ever met someone who read physics books as a pastime, and you’re pretty certain he’ll always be the only one. you know he knows exactly what you’re asking and you know he’s avoiding it.

but it doesn’t stop you though—it’s been long enough, you think. you’ve known him long enough. craved him for a few summers and loved him for enough winters that he has pieces of you that fall through the cracks of your resolve.

you think you deserve a few pieces of him too—even if your fingers have to reach past the cracks themselves, even if they have to slice against the jagged edges and bleed a little in the process.

you’ll bleed for him—like the sun rises from the east and sets in the west, your heart beats for al-haitham. and it’ll bleed for him too.

“your grandmother,” you whisper. “you’ve never told me about her.”

“there’s not much to tell,” he shrugs. “she died right before i enrolled in the akademiya and she raised me after my parents died.”

“i’m sure there’s more,” you say gently—his grip has tightened on your hand now. you don’t think he realizes—in fact, you don’t think al-haitham realizes half of what he feels when it comes to vulnerability.

it’s why he realizes he loves you so late. it’s why you fall first and he falls after. but he falls harder—it’s not hard to see.

“she was a kshahrewar scholar,” he offers blankly.

your thumb brushes over his knuckles, and it’s almost like your hand reaches past the shore just a little further—you don’t mind risking the fall into the water if it means pulling him out.

“haitham,” you sigh delicately. he swallows. it’s hard to keep composure for long—even for someone like him.

grief is an evil thing. it’s a familiar friend—one you wish you never made and one you’ll never shake away. it dances with you under the moonlight, when the stars are bright but the sky is heavy. it barely grazes your skin some days but weighs into your bones on others. it’s a cruel thing really—and it hits you harder some moments than others.

“she was kind,” he starts slowly, his hand reaching out and grabbing yours over the shoreline. maybe, just maybe, sometimes he can get tired of drifting too. “she liked to bake. her hands got too weak to knead dough when i got older, though. you would have liked her tarts. she couldn’t read without her glasses and she always forgot they were on her head. she said my father looked like her husband and that i look like my father. she used to ask me to read to her sometimes so i’d sit on her lap and read my books out loud. she loved the sunrise but was never good at waking up on time to see it. she used to drink tea during sunsets. she liked hers extra sweet and i liked mine more bitter. i…” he pauses, voice shaky as his fingers dig into your hand. you squeeze, and he sniffles. “i haven’t had tea since she passed.”

“she sounds lovely,” you whisper. “i would have loved to meet her.”

“she’d have loved you,” he cracks a small smile, shaking his head as he thinks. “probably more than she loved me.”

“i’m sure i’d never compare to her darling grandson,” you chuckle, bumping arms with him. his head drops to your shoulder—you hesitate for a moment before deciding to pull him into your chest. and when he doesn’t protest, when he buries himself into you instead of pulling away, you thread your fingers into his hair.

“i miss her,” he croaks quietly.

“i know,” you soothe. “i know, baby.”

al-haitham has only ever known love twice in his life. one is gone but it lives through the other. the gentle touch against his scalp and the warmth under his cheek is familiar—it feels like the lap he slept on when he was six. it feels like the delicate hands that cupped his cheeks when he was eight. it feels like the soft kisses against his temple when he was ten.

al-haitham has only ever known love twice in his life, and he’s glad that one of them is you.

“you’d have loved her too,” his voice breaks. you kiss his head as you feel your shirt dampen.

“i already do,” you murmur, “she raised you well. i have her to thank.”

his breath hitches at that—and then he pulls you closer, grasps you tighter, falls in love with you harder. his grandmother’s death anniversary has always been a sore spot—but somehow, you numb the ache even if by just a little.

gently, your hand clasps his and pulls him to shore. he’s grateful he doesn’t have to drift alone anymore.

there is nothing i’m more obsessed with than al-haitham’s childhood. i have so many thought about it. and him. and his character. and his inner thoughts and feelings and most of them revolve around his grandmother and more importantly her passing. and idk. he’s just sosososo important to me i wish we knew more about his grandmother. i love her so much i grieve her passing even though we’ve never even met her 😭

#teepods.writings #drabbles.#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham angst #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin fluff #genshin angst #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact angst

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kinokkotsu · 7 months

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Girlfriend — Yuuta Okkotsu x Reader

You found yourself sitting at the edge of a building. You took a small box and opened it, revealing the several cigarettes sticks inside. You pulled one out of its box as you push it in between your lips. The Tokyo city lights were amazing from above, though you had seen this view many times before. Maybe you’re getting high with yourself without even noticing. A low chuckle escaped your lips as you figured so.

Your ears immediately perked up once you heard footsteps from behind, “…relax, it’s just me” a gentle voice crept out as a tall figure appeared from the dark, Yuuta Okkotsu.

The special graded sorcerer had always something to do with you and it was always something about love. Maybe it was just you trying to deny it. You’d had sex for a few times, went on dates and even had shared the same apartment before.

But you guys were not a thing.

He was a jujutsu sorcerer and worse he was the student under Gojo’s wing. And you? You were a puppet of Kenjaku in fact you know everything little things he had done including him pulling a trick on Itadori’s dad.

Maybe that was one of the reasons why you always had not been accepting his and your feelings to get in the way.

“Are you not going to say anything?” You said firmly, staring at the guy that just settled down next to you without a word. “no, not yet.” he smiled, a genuine one. you scoffed, “the fuck you mean no? I did not come here for nothing.”

Silence fell between you both before Okkotsu turnt to look at you. “I actually..don’t want to seem like I’m using you.” he said as he stared at you flick the cigarettes with your fingers. “Use me? Then what do you wanna do? Propose me? Don’t be an id-”

“Yes..yes. I want to make us an official thing. I want to make you an official thing.” he said, almost seemed like whispering.

At the moment, his face was too close to yours. You can feel his hot breaths against your cheeks, slightly making you feel things you had never experienced before. A rush of blood flowed through your cheeks which caused Okkotsu to laugh.

“Are you seriously blushing at this? c’mon it’s not like we have not even slept together bef-”

“Will you shut up already? Your voice is so loud that people on the ground might even hear.” you said, trying not to break a smile as you push him away.

You loved these kinds of moments. Moments that cannot be shared with anyone. You knew he was serious about his previous commitment yet you were not convinced you agreed too.

“..I just don’t want you to get executed once they found out.” you exhaled before your hands worked their way for another cigarette as it stopped its track once Okkotsu stopped your hand.

He looked at you sincerely, “they won’t find out.. I’m really tired of staying as strangers and you know how much I would like to hold your hand without feeling guilty.” He said before rubbing his palm against the back of your hand gently. He grabbed your soft hand and placed it on his lips, giving it a peck on the veins.

your heart softened at the sight, his face illuminated by the city lights, featuring every details perfectly. His hair messily falling off to his forehead. he was indeed handsome though it may take sometime to actually admit it.

“I promise they won’t. I don’t care if they do, I only need a world with you and me in it.” He grinned as he crooked his head in your neck.

you laughed at his words, “do you even know who you are talking to right now?”

“my girlfriend — obviously.”

“You’re such a hard headed guy.” You smiled softly while rubbing his skull. Though your brain told you to stop your actions, your heart convinced you to trust his words.

And you did.

I lost the request to this but if you’re seeing this, thanks for the brilliant idea xx. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Thanks!

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sgtgarricks · 2 months

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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ i want your hands on me for all my life

simon riley x afab!reader cw: nsfw, angst, happy ending, mentions of simon's abusive past, talks about death, mentions of soap's death, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected piv sex, creampie!!, simon lets himself be happy yay

reblogs are immensely appreciated! <3

PREVIOUS PART: your gentle hands are enough

notes: this is the 2nd part for the people that want a happy ending :) this turned out sooo long LMFAO if you want to be sad just pretend this doesn't exist and read the other one! your feedback & comments help <3

Simon had always excelled at compartmentalizing his emotions ever since he was a child.

Growing up with an abusive father and an older brother who has hell-bent on scaring him had forced him to develop self-preservation tactics in order to survive their torment. Dissociating was a daily occurrence in his childhood years — it helped Simon escape the pain and torment that was being inflicted on his body.

Being in the military has not been that different.

He was still dissociating, but he was no longer on the receiving end of thrown punches and insults. He was now the perpetrator inflicting agony on his enemies for the good of the world. To rid the world of filth.

Simon Riley had become the ultimate soldier — lethal, swift, quiet, and was immune to the horrors of war, which was no surprise considering he had spent most of his childhood learning to lock away all the negative emotions. The ability had become innate, bleeding into his daily life and in turn, his relationships.

When Simon walked out the door, he had left all the hurt and sadness in the apartment with you. He trusted you'd keep a part of him safe until he came back and even if he didn't.

Simon had whole-heartedly accepted the risk that comes with the job, fully prepared to lay his life down if it meant a better world than yesterday. In fact, Simon knew death more intimately more than anyone. He'd knocked on death's door multiple times but always seemed to come out alive.

It was easy for him to not think of you. The anxious voice inside his head becomes static as he engrossed himself in the mission. The hard part comes when the dust has settled — when all that remain are cold corpses and bullet casings.

Sitting in the helicopter all bloodied accompanied by the sound of whirring blades wasn't usually bad. It would give him time to sit down and process his emotions. It let him feel the slight guilt that never goes away when taking a life — no matter how rotten.

But with each mission he went on after his abrupt departure, he finds himself constantly ruminating his entire reason for not wanting to get into a relationship with you.

Simon had wanted you to move on from him when he died, eventually. Forget the bruised and battered soldier and find someone whole, someone who could be there for you and love you without causing you anxiety every time their phone rang.

He thought himself selfless for trying to spare you, but his entire reason collapses with every mission he comes back alive.

What was his excuse now? What was he protecting you from?

The voices slink back into his mind the moment he gains a moment of peace. Whispers planting seeds of doubt in his mind, feeding on his insecurity and his fears. They're ruthless and persistent.

You don't deserve them. They're too good for you. You're going to leave them one day anyway, why bother?

He feels a tightness in his chest, as if a phantom hand was squeezing his heart that sends pulses of pain through him. His hand shakes slightly, fingers moving absent-mindedly trying to remember the feel of your skin.

"You alright, Lieutenant?" His captain's voice breaks him out of his trance. Simon is slightly startled but doesn't let it show. He merely grunts.

"'M alright."

Silence engulfs them once more. It goes one for one, two, maybe three minutes. It's suffocating. Simon can read people well enough by now that he knows there are questions lingering in the back of John Price's mind.

A part of Simon wishes he'd just spit it out, but the thought of having to explain seemed worse. Instead, Simon settles with a silent huff as the helicopter continues on its designated course.

The second the helicopter landed, Price simply nods at him, trusting him to get his shit together and walks off to his office. Simon does his usual routine, though instead of rushing through the motions, he's intentionally prolonging each action.

Whereas normally he couldn't get out of this place faster, now he almost dreaded the moment he would have to leave. Staying at the base meant monotonous, dull, predictable tasks. Leaving means he has to choose where to go — he has to actively force himself to not drive straight to your apartment despite the fact that every fiber in his being longs to be close to you.

He feels sick, a kind of illness spreading inside of him that only ever felt better when you were around him. A dull ache inside his body that only lights up when you touch him.

He runs a hand to his now damp hair, content with sitting on a sofa in the rec room. Normally, the place would be bustling with recruits goofing around with each other. But one glance at the broodier-than-normal look on the lieutenant's face had created a force field that pushed away everyone as to not get caught in its storm.

Simon doesn't know how long he sits there, half of him trying to convince himself to not come to you. That you don't deserve the broken man with a penchant for violence.

Chuckling lowly to himself, he shakes his head. What kind of demented higher power decided someone as kind as you be plucked and dropped into his sights?

Fifteen minutes went by as he pities himself in the rec room before a shadow in his peripheral vision causes him to look up.

"L.T.," Kyle nods towards him, leaning on the doorframe.

"Garrick." Simon grunts dismissively, not saying anything more. He hops the sergeant will take the hint on his own and leave the miserable bastard to his own devices.

Kyle worries for Simon. The brooding giant seems more miserable than usual — not more than after the incident, but still. Typically, he wouldn't even be able to catch a glimpse of his lieutenant after coming back from deployment. He'd usually opt to disappear from the base in record time.

The fact that he's here now, instead of wherever he usually hangs around, is slightly concerning.

"You alright, L.T.?"

Simon turns to him, slightly annoyed. "Why does everyone keep asking me that? Yes, I'm alright." He huffs. Kyle merely shrugs, unbothered by the icy gaze directed at him.

"Well, seeing as you haven't fucked off from the base yet and it's been," Kyle checks his phone for the time, "Around an hour? I'd wager something is wrong."

Sometimes Simon hated how observant Gaz was. Kyle's always been attentive, even more so now without Johnny's presence. It wasn't a secret that Johnny had been the lieutenant's shadow — always lingering near him, cracking jokes and pulling his leg.

His absence had naturally left a gaping void in Simon, oozing all the pain and hurt that comes with losing a comrade. Simon isn't naive, he knows death comes as a package with being in the battlefield. He's seen his fellow soldiers die, held them as they bled out. It was why he tended to keep to himself. After all, the less people you know, the less funerals you have to go to.

This worked most of the time, anyone who got close to Simon would get his arctic stare and cower off — most of the time anyway. Johnny was a different case. Johnny was a little bit of a nutcase to be honest. A talented, bright, pyromaniac, the youngest ever to pass SAS selection, with an arsenal of jokes in his pockets. The blue-eyed Scotsman got along quickly with Kyle, bantering with each other easily as if they had been long-lost friends.

While Johnny still had reservations about dicking around with the captain, he didn't seem to have the same problem with Simon. Seemingly happy to chatter off in his ear about anything, whether it was about shitty food, a lady he picked up from a bar, or jabs directed at Simon.

Johnny's bright disposition put Simon on edge. He wasn't used to seeing someone not be terrified of him. No matter how many glares he sent him, the bugger wouldn't leave him alone. Johnny would continue to go out of his way to talk to Simon, to sit next to him during lunch, and sometimes, Johnny would even manage to get Simon to open up just a little.

"What's on yer mind, L.T.?" Johnny nudged Simon with his elbow. The two men were both sat at the bar, the TV playing an old recording of a football match. It had taken Johnny ten minutes to convince Simon to go out for drinks and he planned on taking full advantage of it.

Johnny had been talking non-stop for around five minutes about his sister who had just gotten married, waiting for a reaction from Simon who seemed distracted. His eyes had strayed to the other side of the bar a few times, barely noticeable to the untrained eye, but Johnny was anything but.

"Nothin'." Simon had grunted, tearing his gaze away. A giant smirk plastered itself onto Johnny's face.

"Ah, been starin' at the sad one across the bar, aye?" Seeing Simon's eye widen a little had made Johnny even more gleeful. "Go on then. Ye have my full permission to ditch me tonight." He teased, winking at his lieutenant.

"Don't know what you're talking about, Johnny." Simon had denied instantly, taking a sip of his drink. A normal person would have left it at that, but Johnny wasn't your average person. He loved starting fires and Simon was a flame he wanted to see lit.

"Ach, come on L.T. what's the harm, eh? A little bit of flirting never hurt anyone." Simon didn't know this but Johnny wasn't going to let this go. It was the first time Johnny had ever seen Simon show interest in someone and he'd do anything to get Simon to at the very least, talk to them.

"They're a civvy, Johnny. Not gonna take any chances." Simon shook his head adamantly.

"That's bollocks! All we do is take risks anyway, at least on this one the worst that could happen is getting a drink thrown in yer face." Johnny chuckles, peering at the person across the bar who was clearly nursing a broken heart. Simon still made no move to get up from his chair.

Praying to whatever God was listening, Johnny hoped Simon wouldn't kill him after what he was going to do. Calling over the bartender, Johnny slid the man a fifty.

"Mate, give 'em a refill yeah? Tell 'em it's from the big bloke over here." Johnny signaled the bartender. Simon, who had finally processed what Johnny was doing, couldn't even get a word in. The bartender hastily took the money and went back to his station, ignoring Simon's call.

Simon could only watch in despair as the bartender presented the drink and pointed towards Simon. He received a shy smile, a mouthed 'thank you', and an expectant look.

"Now you've got to go there, mate. Otherwise you'll look like an arsehole!" Johnny threw his arms up, grinning triumphantly. The sergeant crossed his arms and wiggled his eyebrows.

Simon could've easily ignored Johnny and went back to his drink. But a part of him couldn't deny that he wanted to go over there and maybe talk to someone else that wasn't Scottish for a change. Against his usual logic, Simon decided to stand up from his chair.

"You're an arsehole." A glare was sent Johnny's way, although it had no weight behind them. As Simon began to walk away, he could hear Johnny laughing loudly.

"Yer welcome!"

Simon had never told Johnny you were the person who had been texting him during deployment, but he knew deep down that Johnny already knew. He'd asked multiple times, even tried sneaking a look.

He simply didn't want to admit that Johnny forcing him to talk to you that day had shifted Simon's world. He wished he told Johnny.

"We all miss him, L.T." Kyle's soft voice spoke again. He's closer now, dragging a chair from a table and sitting in front of Simon. Kyle knew he could never fill the giant void that Johnny left, but he felt a sense of responsibility to at least try. Price had become more closed off after his death whereas Simon had slowly been unraveling, little stitches coming loose a day at a time.

"All we can do is make sure it's not in vain." Simon sighs, hearing Kyle's words, knows he's right. That he can't go back to expecting the worst all the time, constantly on edge.

Johnny had breathed life into his ghostly presence, bringing Simon back into the realm of the living. The more Johnny got out of the lieutenant, the more people were able to see that Simon wasn't merely a visage, a ghost roaming the hallway. That he was a real person.

He was throwing away his chance at a second life. Perhaps it was also a twisted way of Simon punishing himself. If he couldn't save Johnny, couldn't save the man who managed to get him to talk to you, then he didn't deserve you. It was a round-about way of him trying to mend off the guilt eating away at him that had inadvertently claimed another victim.

"Thank you, sergeant." Simon stood up. Clapping his hand on Kyle's shoulder.

I see you.

"Don't mention it, sir."

The drive to your house takes around twenty minutes, which means that's all the time Simon has to try and figure out a way to atone for his sins.

They're too gracious to even hold a grudge against you. A small part of Simon tells him. While he hopes that's true, he still wants to apologize and acknowledge how unfair he's been to you. If not to make you feel better, at the very least it will ease his conscience.

He drums his finger on the steering wheel, the radio turned on but on low volume. For once, Simon wishes he had Johnny's ability to get out of problems with his alluring words and his kicked-puppy look.

Lost in his own thoughts, he hadn't even realized he's been sitting in his parked car for a few minutes. He clasps his hands when he realizes they're shaking. God, he was so terrified. Not of you, no. He was scared of having to see what he's done to you. Is terrified of really seeing the carnage Simon Riley had tore in you.

He lets out a bated breath and opens the car door. He knows you're home by now, probably cooking away while listening to some indie band. Resting his head on your door, he braces himself once more, and knocks.

He waits, the seconds feeling like hours. The door swings open and he sees your surprised face.

"Simon." You compose yourself immediately, not wanting to show any sort of weakness in front of him. Something twitches on the corners of his mouth hidden by the balaclava. As if realizing he's still wearing it, he takes it off.

"Can I come in?" He asks timidly, as if approaching a wounded animal. He had no idea how you'd react after him being gone for so long. Even during his three month deployments, he'd sometimes text you once every fortnight. But after the way he left things, he couldn't bring himself to message you at all. Couldn't even stomach the thought of you still pining over him after what he had done. It was easier for him to simply block your number. Photos of sunsets and coffee cups gathering dust in his photo album, unsent.

You didn't even think about it, your body unconsciously moving sideways to let him in. A part of you screams at yourself.

Idiot, show some dignity.

It had been so easy for you to let the man who had left you for six months without a word back into your apartment, into your life.

You felt like an addict. Constantly begging for your next fix and taking whatever scraps are thrown your way. It's pitiful, but you're too far gone, anyway. His dirty boots make contact with your hardwood floor, leaving small specks of mud on them. Simon notices the frown marring your face and begins to unlace his boots.

"Sorry." He apologizes, neatly tucking away his muddy boots at the side of your door. You close the door behind him, making your way towards your kitchen. The plate clatters loudly in the sink as you haphazardly put them away, clearly rattled.

Simon coughs slightly, words stuck in his throat. He'd prepared a small speech earlier yet all the words seem to escape him. All the courage he had mustered for his little speech all had but disappeared into thin air. He feels out of his depths, not used to being vulnerable.

"What are you doing here, Simon?" Your voice sounds so tired. He supposes he was to blame for that.

"Can we talk?" He sends you a pleading look, hoping you still felt a sliver of the love you used to harbor for him — the only thing stopping you from kicking him out.

"Oh, so after blocking me and radio silence for six months you've decided you want to talk?" The bitterness seeps into your words like venom. He can't even make himself physically recoil from the sharp edge of your tone. Simon can feel the thin rope right beneath his feet, one wrong step and he'd be falling off the edge.

He takes a deep breath. "I deserve that."

"Oh, you deserve more than that Simon Riley. I should kick you out right now." You were huffing now, going slightly red in the face. Had he not been so anxious he might've thought you look cute. But right now? He was downright terrified.

"Just-" Simon pinches his nose bridge, calming himself down. "Let me speak for a moment, yeah? After that if you want me to leave, I'll leave." He holds both his hands up.

You were livid, rightfully so. The man you love had essentially decided he didn't want to communicate with you anymore, breaking your heart. The first week you thought maybe something had happened to his phone, broken it maybe?

As the weeks turned into months, the realization dawned on you that he had purposefully blocked you, cut off all contact. At first there was only sadness. You spent your days crying into your blanket, some days barely functioning. The hurt and betrayal had emotionally drained you. Did all those years mean nothing to him?

You knew he had a hard time expressing his emotions, but never in your wildest dreams did you think he would throw you away just like that. Like you were nothing more to him than a good fuck. Despite your head telling you otherwise, the emotional baggage he had left you with didn't leave much option.

It was easier to hate him than to accept maybe he didn't love you at all.

You spent the first few months cursing into the wind hoping it'd somehow hurt him a fraction of how much he hurt you. Afterwards, the pain became a lingering , dull ache, but not debilitating anymore. It became a constant that you carry everyday.

Kicking him out the door was tempting, but you knew it wouldn't do you any good. If anything, the words left unsaid would become a leech — slowly draining away your curiosity until you eventually leave another voicemail.

You give him a pointed stare before sitting down on the couch. Simon slowly approached you, wanting nothing more than to sit next to you but choosing to sink into the other side of the couch. He sees you cross your arms, feeling more uncomfortable by the second.

"I jus' wanna say that I'm sorry." He stares into your eyes, slouched with elbows on his thighs. Seeing your mouth thin into a line, Simon knows he's going to have to do a lot better.

"When Johnny died..." Your eyes widen, arms slacking slightly. He'd talk about Johnny sometimes but sometime ago had entirely stopped mentioning his name altogether. You had suspected something terrible had happened but you didn't want to believe it.

"I was so angry. It's not fair. He was so young, had his whole future ahead of him. Told me he was gonna see his sister's newborn on his next leave." He breathes out, clenching his fists.

"All of that, gone. We haven't even caught the bastard yet." Simon runs an exasperated hand through his face. Your arms were no longer crossed, choosing to fiddle with the edge of your shirt. You wanted to comfort him so badly, wanted to take him into your arms and tell him everything's going to be okay. But he was still pouring his heart out and you wanted to greedily snatch every piece he was willing to give.

"I had constant nightmares for months. Sometimes, I still do. You're just a heavy sleeper, I suppose." He chuckles and catches the way the edge of your mouth turn up.

"It's never easy, losing someone. It changes you. I used to hear his nonsense almost everyday and now it's just not there. I'm terrified one day it'll be like he was never there at all." Simon looks away, blinking tears away.

"But he was there. I know that. I felt him. He was like the fucking sun, but instead of being 150 million kilometers away, he's next to my ear with his Scottish nonsense." Simon chuckles bitterly, reminiscing the times when Johnny had to translate his gibberish.

You stay quiet, letting him speak freely. You had a feeling where this was going and how Johnny's death had indirectly impacted your relationship.

"If I died tomorrow, would you be okay?" His question catches you off guard. It was a question you've pondered a thousand times before, and every time you only ever came up with one answer.

"No." You answer honestly, because you'd break either way. Whether it was tomorrow or a year from now. You can feel a part of Simon in your bloodstream that if he died, some part of you would die with him.

"I only ever wanted you to be okay." He straightens, testing the waters by moving closer to you. You let him.

"Would you prefer if I never loved you at all?" Your heart was thumping loudly in your chest you worried he could hear it.

"No." His answer was immediate, as if he'd never been as sure before. "Not selfless enough for that."

"Then are you selfless enough to accept that I would want it to hurt?" You put your hand on top of his, gently grasping them within yours. Simon feels the broken pieces of him mending together.

He's quiet, not sure how to respond. He didn't use to understand why people would put themselves on the line, but he's starting to.

"If you died, I'd want it to hurt. I'd want it to take my breath away. I'd want it to keep me awake at night. I'd want every single bone in my body to ache when you're gone, because that would mean I have loved you with all of me."

You don't realize you'd started crying. There was no distance anymore between you and Simon. His thigh pressed against yours as you clutch his hand to your chest.

"I want it to hurt so badly, because I want to love you deeply." Tears were streaming freely down your face you couldn't even stop them even if you wanted to.

"Simon, will you let me hurt for you?"

And he lets you.

"Okay." His hand go to engulf your frame, but you had thrown yourself at him before he managed to. Simon can feel his shirt getting wet, he'd never thought he'd be slightly happy over the fact that you were crying.

Everything's going to be okay.

Your head was now on his collarbone, his palm gently holding you there. You feel a kiss on the top of your head as he strokes it.

Neither of you know how long you simply cried on him, much less when you ended up on his lap. When he heard you stop — tired from the energy you exerted, he slowly rearranges his body so that you are able to lie fully on top of him. His sore back is the last thing on his mind as he sees your peacefully sleeping away.

A pounding headache eventually woke you. You weren't sure if last night really happened or if your mind had conjured a scenario where Simon came back for you. However, the sweltering heat you feel on your midsection proves otherwise.

He really was here.

His eyes were closed, seeming to be asleep. You test the waters, placing your palm on the left side of his face. A hand immediately darts towards your hand and keeps it there.

"Put some pills on your nightstand for the headache." He murmurs, eyes still closed. His face turns slightly, placing a kiss on your palm. Even after half a year away, he still knows you like the back of his hand.

Leaning in, you give him a peck on the cheek. As much as you want to drink in the sight of him, there were more pressing matters at hand. You need the reassurance. You need him to tell you he wasn't going to abandon you again.

"Simon, did you mean it?" You can't get the entire words out, can only hope it was enough to convey your tumultuous emotions. His heart aches that you don't believe him, but he understands.

"I love you, sweetheart." Soft lips descend upon your own, barely brushing.

"'M here to stay as long as you want me here." He sneaks a hand under you, pulling you closer to him. There isn't any part of you that's not connected to him in some way.

He was so warm, scorching you inside out. You wanted his flame to burn every inch of your skin. When he left, everything felt cold to the bone, your life turning into muted blues and grays.

Simon brought warmth into your life, with his little acts of service. With the little trinkets he brings back after deployment because it reminded him of you. With his gentle hands, gentle kisses — his gentle self.

"I love you, Si." You whisper, grabbing him by the neck and lowering your lips onto his. Brushing softly, you were going to pull away when Simon lets out a moan. Heat builds inside of you as you slip your tongue inside his open mouth. He grunts in surprise, holding you still for a second. But you're impatient.

"Need you." You whine, "Want you so much, Si."

"Yeah?" He mumbles against your lips, running his hands through your hair gently.

"Thought I'd be in the dog house much longer than that, love." He teases you. Simon yelps slightly when you retaliate by biting on his lower lip. He grips both your cheeks with his fingers, pushing you away from him.

"That wasn't very nice of you, hmm?" He gently shakes your head, grinning handsomely. "Think you need a little lesson in being nice, sweetheart. Lucky for you, I'm an excellent teacher." He leans in and kisses your puckered lips, working his way downwards.

His hands wander everywhere, working themselves underneath your shirt. You feel goosebumps rise where his fingertips lay, shivering under his hold.

"Missed you so much, Si. Please." Your moans echo throughout the room. He's holding your thighs together as he trails down your body as you writhe.

"Missed you too, love. Fuck, missed you so fucking much." He manages to say. He cups your ass as he mouths at your panty-covered mound. Your juices seep through the fabric, making Simon groan.

"Mmm.. Someone missed me too." He runs his tongue up and down your slit as you cross both your legs behind his neck. He felt you clench your thighs and he feels blood rushing downwards. Turning his head slightly to the right, he nips lightly at your inner thigh.

He'd barely touched you but here you are already begging for it. Simon Riley has you wrapped around his finger and it scares you a little how much of a hold he has on you. You had bared your neck so openly for him and he had bit down the first chance he got.

"Will you let me take care of you, love? Make you feel good." He hums, fingers trailing along your inner thigh waiting for permission. You nod fervently before realizing he can't see you.

"Yes, yes, yes. Need you to take care of me, Si." Your heart was beating fast out of anticipation.

"Yeah? I'll make you feel good, baby." He coos at you as his fingers slowly pull down your panties. Strings of your juices were sticking to the insides. He threw them aimlessly, eyes zeroed in on your wet pussy.

His finger runs through your folds, making squelching noises. "All this for me, hmm?" He tilts his head up, pinching when you don't reply immediately. The sudden sensation makes you whimper.

"All for you, Si. Just for you." You were panting heavily as Simon sucks your clit into his mouth and licks in a circular motion. You thread your fingers in his hair, not tugging harshly.

Simon laps at your pussy like a starved man, burying his entire face in your warmth. He moans between every few licks, the taste of you dazing him. Your eyes glaze over as you see the man you love pleasuring you with earnest. He continues for a while, alternating his focus between your bud and your folds.

When you tug at his shirt impatiently, Simon grunts. He gets up and throws his shirt over his head. Not one second after it's off, you begin to paw at him, desperate to feel every inch of him.

Simon thinks he's never seen such a beautiful sight. Your hair was messy from your movements, eyes hazy as he can feel goosebumps on his body where you stare. He grabs your face and kisses you desperately, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth. His clothed bulge was grinding messily against your wet pussy as his boxers begin to darken from the wetness.

Simon's whimper fill the room when he feels you grinding upwards to rub yourself on his cock. He pulls from your lips with a string of saliva. Not waiting for him, you scramble to take off your shirt, baring your tits to him.

His eyes drink in the state of you greedily, one hand groping your tits as the other travels down to your pussy. You were beyond wet enough for his cock, but he's determined to make you cum on his fingers first.

Two fingers slip into you gently. The stretch catches you off guard, it's been a while since you've had his thick fingers probing inside you. His fingers were thrusting shallowly as you grind on his palm.

"Fuck, Simon. Feels so good." You babble, barely able to keep your eyes open, the pleasure overwhelming your senses.

"Yeah? Gonna make you feel even better." With that, his fingers thrust deeper into you, massaging your spot. Your back arches as Simon plants his face on your chest, sucking on your nipples.

He crooks his fingers slightly as he continues thrusting, his palm touching your clit with each time. You couldn't stay still anymore, moving your hips back to meet his thrusts.

The room was filled with wet, squelching noises and your combined moans. Your hands were gripping his bicep, feeling the large muscle flex under your fingertips.

His thick fingers continue his ministration as you begin to climb higher and higher. Your walls begin to pulse and constrict his fingers. Sweat drips down his forehead as he continues to drive into your pussy with his deft fingers.

"You gonna cum on my fingers, love?" He teases, placing kisses all over your damp face.

"Yes, oh fuck. Please, please let me cum."

Simon grins against your neck, placing sloppy kisses all over. His fingers begin to speed up even faster, hitting your sweet spot with every effort. You feel the familiar tingling sensation begin to build in your core.

Your legs begin to tremble as you struggle to get air inside of your lungs. Panting harshly, you close your eyes as your orgasm starts to reach its peak.

His hand leaves your tits as they begin to rub circles on your clit. The combined assault on your clit and your pussy brings you over the edge.

"Look at me when you cum." Your eyes open immediately as you find him staring directly into yours. Your legs tremble deliciously, hands gripping Simon even tighter as you feel your orgasm wash over you. Mouth agape, your back continues to arch as Simon doesn't stop, overstimulating you with a few shallow thrusts.

Simon's hand was covered in your juices as he slowly withdraws them. Your pussy clenches, feeling empty. He brings his fingers to your mouth and taps your lips. Obediently, you open your lips and let him slide his fingers inside your mouth.

Circling your tongue all finger, your eyes begin to close again. When you blink them open, you see Simon's bare body hovering above yours. His cock was standing proudly, shiny with precum. You feel the urge to take his cock into your mouth. When your hand tries to reach for him, it's stopped by his firm grip.

"Next time, yeah? Need to fuck your pretty pussy, baby." He slowly pulls his fingers out of your mouth, wiping them on his hip. He repositions his cock at your pussy, sliding the head up and down your folds.

Tilting your head down, you see Simon's hand grip his cock firmly as it slowly rubs his precum all over your pussy. He groans seeing your juices mix together. Moving your hips upwards, you try to push his head in and he hisses.

He grabs your hips and gently lowers them on the bed. "You just lay there and take it, yeah? Let me do all the work." You preen, more than happy to lay there and see him move above you.

"Put it in, Si. Missed your cock so much." You whimper, pressing delicate kisses on his neck. He nudges your nose with his, capturing your lips into a kiss. Your moan gets interrupted by your own grunt of surprise as the head of his cock slips in.

His cock was thicker than his two fingers, with veins running all over the shaft rubbing your walls deliciously. You link your legs behind his waist, helping him push deeper.

When he's inside you, it's like two pieces of puzzle fitting together. His cock fit so perfectly inside you, as if you were made for him and him for you. You knew Simon was it for you a long time ago, falling head over heels so easily for the grumpy soldier. You weren't happy at how long it took him to come to his senses, but you're glad either way.

He thrusts slowly, going deeper with each shift of his hips. His tongue tangles with yours as wet noises fill the room. You know when he's pushed in to the hilt when you feel him bump against your cervix slightly. Your pussy clenches at the tiny pain, causing Simon to moan out.

"Fuck, you're squeezing me so well, sweetheart." He stays there for a moment, grinding his cock inside. You only stop kissing when you pull away to beg him to start moving. Both his hands are placed firmly on your hips when he begins thrusting.

He moves back and forth slowly, the walls of your pussy feeling every drag of his big cock. You hiss against his mouth, the sensation lights up every nerve in your body. You beg him to go faster but he ignores you, continuing to sink slowly.

When you're about to wail at the pace again, he thrusts sharply — his cock sinking deep into your pussy. You gasp, clawing his back when he continues to move slowly but going deep with each thrust. You can hear the sound of his balls smacking against your ass.

Your combined juices were dripping out of your pussy, causing wet noises whenever he moves inside you. You don't know how long he continues his brutal motion, your eyes dazed and breath unsteady.

You've never felt this way before. It feels as if he's everywhere inside you, there isn't a part of you that doesn't feel touched by him. He thrusts as if he's trying to imprint himself in you, trying to permanently leave a mark.

"Such a pretty pussy. Doing so well f' me, sweetheart. You gonna let me cum in you? Gonna let me fill you up nicely?" He grunts, his composure starting to unravel. His cock begins to piston in you messily as he loses himself in your pussy.

"Yes, yes, yes. Fuck, love you so much, Si. Need your cum in me." You cry out desperately, tightening your legs and pulling him deeper inside you.

"So good to me, love. Letting me cum in your pretty pussy." His form begins to shake slightly from exertion. You know his hands were going to bruise your hips from how hard he was gripping them but you couldn't care less.

Your body moves up and down from the force of his thrust. His cock touching your cervix with each delicious thrust. Your pussy begins to pulse wildly on his cock as you feel another orgasm build inside you. When his cock begins to pulse, your eyes roll to the back of your head as it sends you over the edge. You moan out his name loudly, pulling him by the neck to your chest as his arms hug you to him.

You feel his desperation and love when he holds you. He hugs you so tight to him your ribs ache. You never want this feeling to go away.

"I love you so much, fuck." Your orgasm triggers his own, his cock pulsing as his creamy load fills up your pussy. He's so snug inside your pussy the excess cum begins to drip out. When he stops unloading inside you, he moves slowly, thrusting a few times shallowly. A part of him wants to look at the way his seed drips from your pussy but he didn't want to move away from you.

You both pant with eyes closed as your breathing begins to even out. Simon slowly pulls out and you hiss at the feel of his cock leaving you empty. You look down and see his cock covered in his cum and yours.

Your head falls back down to the pillow, eyes closing shut. Simon stares at the ceiling and huff, righting himself. You feel him plant a kiss to your forehead as the bed dips.

"'M gonna go clean us up, yeah? You stay there." You hear him step into the bathroom, going to wash himself and grab a clean towel to clean up your mess. By the time he came back, you had already passed out, judging by the sound of your low snores.

He begins to wipe your thighs and try to dry the surrounding areas as best he can. He'll change the sheets later when you're well-rested. Simon climbs into bed, hugging you to him. He runs his fingers through your hair, slowly unknotting them one by one.

He stares at your sleeping from and grins. Lowering his lips to yours, he keeps them there for a few seconds.

"I love you."

You can only mumble in response, too tired to properly articulate the words.

"I love you too, Simon."

#simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost smut #ghost x reader #cod smut #cod x reader #cod ghost x reader #sgtales

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lovexdeepspace · 1 month

Note

All the Love and Deepspace boys react when you make a homemade scarf for them?

Thank you very much and hope all is well.

“made with love.”

summary; a gift is best when it comes from the heart.

warnings; none! enjoy the sweetness <3

note; aaaaa some fluff to break the angst cycle !! ty for the sweet request !!

( to be formatted in the future )

a box awaits each of the boys, wrapped neatly with a note attatched.

rafayel…

… immediately calls you, panicking that some crazed fangirl or someone he wronged in the past has found his address.

“what if it’s a bomb?” he shouts into the phone, peering through the crack in his front door at the box. “or worse! what if it’s some woman’s used underwear?!”

you fail to contain your laughter on the other end of the call, covering your mouth as you double over.

“how can you laugh in such dire times?” rafayel wails, clutching the phone to his ear. “this isn’t funny!”

after a moment you were finally able to compose yourself and say, “the box is from me, dumbass. i dropped it off on my way to work this morning. i tried to give it to you personally but someone wouldn’t answer the door.”

cue a sheepish chuckle from rafayel as he opens his front door and stoops down to open the gift then and there. he smiles to himself as he finds a blue hand knit scarf sitting in the box, his fingers running gently along the material.

“it’s so soft,” he says softly and you laugh again, amused by his genuine reaction. “i’m putting it on and never taking it off.”

“so dramatic,” you mumble, cradling the phone between your shoulder and ear as you pick up your book once more. the line went silent and you quirk a brow. “rafayel?”

your phone buzzes and you pull it away from your shoulder to find three image attachments sent your way with more piling in every second. each photo is one of rafayel in a different, exaggerated pose with the scarf wrapped around his neck. you laugh at his theatrics and save a couple to your camera roll before shooting him a quick text.

you look like a dork.

he answers immediately, as to be expected from your clingy artist:

i think i look amazing

xavier…

… opens the box as soon as he pulls it in his apartment without a single concern. if anyone could handle some danger, it’s him, so why worry?

the yellow scarf is soft in his lap as he reads the card you wrote for him, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. he sets the little card aside and wraps the scarf loosely around his shoulders before pushing himself off his couch, sending you a text that he’s coming over.

it doesn’t take long for him to arrive at your front door or for him to fish out the spare key you had given him, unlocking the door and pushing his way in. xavier shuffles into your apartment, leaving his shoes by the door as he calls out your name. he moves from the main room to your bedroom, finding you sprawled out on your bed. without a second thought he crawls into bed beside you, startling you awake.

“huh — wha? xavier?” you lay back down, groaning. “scared the shit outta me.”

xavier hums and pulls you into his embrace, your face burying in his chest. “i got your gift and needed to come say thank you.”

“you couldn’t have just texted me?” you ask sleepily, wrapping your arms around his midsection. “you’re welcome, by the way. tara taught me how to knit and she gave me some extra yarn. i thought the color would suit you.”

you pull back a little and eye the scarf around his neck before adding, “it does suit you.”

xavier nods in agreement, kissing your forehead. “you have a good eye.”

zayne…

… completely forgets about the gift. one day he comes into the office to find a box on his desk and makes a mental note to open it after his first patient.

then one patient becomes two back to back emergency surgeries and by the time that was all complete it was well into the night. finally having a second to himself, zayne plops down on his couch and leans his head back. his eyes finally close only to snap open again at a knock on his door.

“zayne, i brought you some dinner,” you say as you open the door to his office. he lets out a sigh of relief and relaxes once more as you shut the door behind you, setting the lunchbox on his desk. “oh! you still haven’t opened it?”

“opened what?” zayne asks, turning his head slightly to look at you. you pick up the gift on his desk and hold it out to him. “oh, that. i assume it’s from you, then?”

you nod excitedly and place the box on his lap. “go on, open it!”

“i’m sorry, today’s been a hectic day,” zayne apologizes as he carefully opens the box. the stress melts away as he looks into the box at a black hand-knit scarf with a small smile. “you made this?”

you take a seat next to him, reaching over and grabbing the scarf out of the box as he reads the card. “i did! and since you’re mr. jack frost over here, i think a scarf is the perfect accessory! do you like it?”

you wrap it haphazardly around his shoulders and zayne sets the card down on the coffee table before fixing it around his neck.

“out of all the gifts you’ve given me over the years, i think this one might just be my favorite,” he replies, placing a hand on your knee as he leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. “thank you, sunshine.”

#love and deepspace #rafayel #lads rafayel #rafayel x reader #lads xavier #lads zayne #xavier #xavier x reader #zayne x reader #zayne #oracleofstars

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heeliopheelia · 11 months

Text

𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄-𝐔𝐏𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊-𝐔𝐏𝐒

part 1

genre: hurt/comfort, hurt/no comfort, angst, fluff

word count: 3.2k

warnings: curse words and fuckload of tears, breaking up in some

masterlist

LEE HEESEUNG

"Fucking hell, pick up," Heeseung mutters under his nose as another one of his calls goes straight into the voice mail. He's been sitting on the edge of the couch, nervously picking on his nails ever since you left the apartment.

It's way too late for anyone to be walking outside alone. Heeseung's well aware of that, so the second that his call gets declined again, he jumps up on his feet and leaves your house, not even bothering to lock the door behind him. The only thought present in his mind is to find you and make things right. He can't believe he would hurt you like that with some reckless words he didn't even mean. You always told him he was way too hot headed for his own good and now the time has finally come for your words to be proved right.

As he turns the first corner, he finds himself crashing into another person, their startled gasp echoing through the empty street. He doesn't even need a second to recognize your silhouette and without thinking much he pulls you closely to him, heart nearly beating out of his chest from relief.

"Oh my god, I was so worried about you!" He says, voice breathless as he holds you closely. Your small sniffles nearly break his heart in two. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so cruel with you earlier. I'm sorry."

But you keep silent, only let your tears drench his t-shirt. Heeseung swallows nervously, feeling like he's losing you already. And, fuck, he was not ready for that to happen.

"Please just say something," he whispers, pressing his lips to the top of your head a little desperately, yearning for any sort of an answer from you. "YN?"

"I'm sorry, Heeseung," you say quietly as you finally pull away from him, finally allowing him to see all the damage he's caused written all over your face. "I just don't understand how could you even say all of that to me? Comparing me to your ex, really? And you've literally admitted you don't love me anymore."

Biting his lips hard, almost painfully, he listens to your broken rambling. "That's not true. I do love you." He feels his heart stuttering slightly as he notices the uncertainty in your teary eyes. "I love you, YN."

You step away even farther from him. "It's kinda hard to believe after today."

"I know," he can barely hold back the whine mingling at the back of his throat. "I know that I don't deserve to be forgiven so easily but just- Please, you can't break up with me now. Not like this. I didn't mean it, darling. I'm sorry."

The desperation in his voice nearly makes you give in. Nearly, because no matter how hard you try, you can't push his cruel words out of your mind.

"Look, Heeseung. I love you," before you can see the hope starting to shimmer in his dark eyes, you continue, "I really do but I just can't imagine how this relationship would work anymore. There's way too many wrongs to only focus on the rights, don't you agree?"

"No, I-"

"Let's just go home for now, okay?" You interrupt him, feeling tired from the long day. "I'll pack my stuff up in the morning."

PARK JAY

How could he forget about the one day he's been looking forward the most to for the whole month?

Jay closes his eyes and lets out a heavy sigh before quickly calling his boss to cancel the meeting. Swearing under his nose, he reminds himself of all the thing's he's had prepared for you today. And now his stupidity has ruined it all for you.

He thought he would give you a moment to yourself for collecting your thoughts, but after another minute of listening to your sobs coming from behind the door, he let go of that stupid idea and walked into the bathroom. Seeing you sitting by the wall with face hidden in your hands makes him realize that he would give absolutely everything to somehow invent a time machine and go back in time, only to make you happy again.

You don't even flinch when he takes the spot on the floor right next to you, arms wrapping around your middle and pulling you to his lap. You let him do all of that because no matter how much he's hurt you, his touch will forever remain the one thing that instantly brings you comfort. You know that that feeling won't evaporate so quickly as he's been your support person for such a long time.

"I'm sorry I forgot," he says into the silence after a heartbeat or two. Your traitorous heart instantly melts the second he brings his hand up and starts stroking your hair softly. "And I'm sorry I put my work first without thinking of you."

"It's okay, it's not that big of a deal. I don't even care about my birthday that much," you mumble into his shoulder.

"Don't do that. You deserve an apology," he scolds you softly. His hand slips lower to your cheek and he pulls your face up to look right into your bloodshot eyes. "It's not okay and it is a big deal. And I'm sorry for being the worst boyfriend that's ever walked the planet earth."

You let out a small huff. "That's a little harsh, don't you think?"

"But absolutely deserved," Jay sighs before lifting one of your hands to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your fingers. "I'll never dismiss your feelings like that again. That's a promise I'll keep forever. I love you so much, honey."

"I'm glad to hear it," you hum, wiping your nose with the back of your sleeve. A sleeve of his hoodie, actually. "I hate fighting with you."

"Will you forgive me?"

His question doesn't linger in the air for a long time unanswered, because as soon as it leaves his mouth, you're leaning in and pressing your lips to his. Jay quickly responds to your kiss as he nearly engulfs you in his arms, pulling you as closely to him as it's possible. His fingers are caressing your cheeks gently, almost as if he's afraid of causing you any more damage.

"Do you still feel like celebrating your birthday?" He asks, following his words with few more kisses to your tear-swollen lips.

"Absolutely. As long as you'll buy me Starbucks today."

SIM JAKE

"You didn't answer my calls," Jake says as the two of you walk inside your apartment.

"I think the reasons for it are pretty self-explanatory," you respond, directing yourself straight to your kitchen with Jake following you closely, nearly stepping on your heels. You lay the grocery bag on the counter and start unpacking its contents.

"I'm sorry I forgot about our date again, it just slipped my mind, I swear."

"Good to know I'm so forgettable to you," you huff, not looking at him even once. "Well, you never forget about your friends, that's for sure."

"I shouldn't have done that," Jake admits, moving closer to you and reaching for your shoulder. "It was wrong of me to lie to you about it."

"Yeah, no fucking shit."

"Will you just let me apologize?" He raises his voice, losing his patience with you quickly.

You turn around and send him a pointed look, eyebrow raised as you finally meet his eyes. "Damn, that's bold of you to be yelling at me like that in your position, Jake."

He immediately lets go of you and rubs his face with his hands. "I know, I know. I just- fuck, I'm sorry."

"I only have one question for you," you say as you stop unloading your groceries for once and lean back on the counter, bracing your hands on each of your sides. "Why are you even in this relationship when it's clearly not even in your top three priorities?"

"Hey, that's not really fair, is it?" He backs away as his tone raises defensively. "I've been a good boyfriend to you most of the time, YN. I've just missed a couple of dates, that's all. I'll make this all up to you, I promise."

"Oh, come on, Jake! Do you really expect me to just forget about it all and move on like nothing happened?"

"I mean, that's how it works. Couples fight and couples make up," he says, nodding his head as if he's looking for your affirmation, "We're not gonna break up because of a stupid argument, are we?"

When silence is your only answer, Jake's eyes widen at the realization.

"You're joking, right?" He scoffs. "You really wanna end a perfectly fine relationship over some petty bullshit like this?"

"The fact that you think we're having a perfectly fine relationship even though we've just been arguing about you blatantly lying to me, says more than enough. I've already made up my mind, I'm sorry."

You watch as a scowl makes its way on his face and he crosses his arms over his chest. "Fine. Do as you want. Just don't come crawling back to me when you finally grow up."

"Oh, don't hold your breath, babe. Goodbye, Jake."

PARK SUNGHOON

You jerk in your place when you feel Sunghoon's warm hands on your knees. You didn't even notice him walking into the bedroom, way too absorbed in crying a goddamn river of tears. He's understood his mistake merely couple minutes after you've left him in the living room.

"YN," he starts quietly but quickly gets shut down when you shake your head, hiding your face in your hands as another sob leaves your throat. He swallows loudly before trying again, "Baby, I'm sorry."

"Please, leave me alone for now," you whine out through a clenched throat. You pull away from your hands to look at him kneeling down in front of you.

Sunghoon lifts his hand up to wipe your wet face with his sleeve. "Just hear me out, okay? I didn't mean it, darling. I shouldn't have said that."

"Then why did you?"

"I- I don't know. I was just having a tough time at work and I just let it happen," he tries to explain, to defend himself somehow but even he can see that the excuse is just simply not enough. "I know I went too far and you don't even understand how sorry I am about that. I really didn't mean it."

"You made me feel the most unloved I've ever felt in my entire life. Do you really think that's how a relationship is supposed to look like?" You choke out, watching as his face scrunches up with pain.

"I love you. I know I don't say it often but I do. More than you could ever imagine," he confesses, running his thumb over your cheek. "I hate myself for making you feel like I don't."

"I don't know if I can forgive you yet, Hoon," you say, trying not to show any emotions as his face visibly drops. "I'll need some time to think it all over."

"I understand." His voice gets quieter and he backs away from you slightly, giving you some space. You try to ignore how you instantly start missing the warmth of his touch on your skin. "Take all the time you need. I'll wait for as long as I have to, love."

KIM SUNOO

A knock on your door wakes you out of your thoughts. With a sigh, you go to open it, already knowing who's standing outside.

When your face shows up instead of the wooden surface, Sunoo finally allows himself to breathe again. "YN," he starts, straightening his posture a little. "Can I come inside?"

You shake your head, clenching your fingers on the door. "No, I don't think so."

"Look, I'm sorry for not believing you. It was wrong of me, I know that. I haven't slept all night because all I could think about was you."

You press your lips tightly at his confession. "Do you know what's my biggest issue with this entire situation? The fact that even after I explained myself, you still wouldn't believe me. You still chose to believe her words over mine. That hurt the most, you know?"

"I'm sorry," he repeats with guilt written all over his face. "Let me fix this, please. I swear I'll stop hanging out with her. Just don't leave me."

"But it was never about you being friends with her, Sunoo, don't you get it?" You run your hand through your hair in an attempt to not blow up on him right there and then. "The problem isn't you having a girl best friend, it's you not trusting me! I couldn't care less that you spend time with her because I never doubted your loyalty to me. You accusing me of some stupid shit with Sunghoon only proved that you don't feel the same way about me."

"That's not true."

You let out an unamused snort. "Oh but it is. I'm sorry but I just can't see this going anywhere from here."

"How can you be so okay with ending a two year relationship just like that?" Sunoo asks, upset with your solemn behavior. "Looks like I must've meant nothing to you."

"Why are you trying to turn the tables again? God, you're unbelievable!" You finally raise your voice. "Stop trying to make everything about you, when it's clear that you're the one who fucked up the most, Sunoo. You're not the victim and I'm not the villain in here!"

"Stop shouting at me," he scowls at you.

"I wouldn't have to yell if you weren't so goddamn infuriating," you bite back harshly. "I think we've said all that needed to be said now. Go home, Sunoo."

You shut the door right in his face and walk back to your living room, not looking back even once.

YANG JUNGWON

"Hey, are we okay?" Jungwon asks you quietly as you sit side by side in a train, the both of you going back from school.

Even though you haven't spoken to him much ever since the two of you met up at the train station, you didn't shy away from any of his touches or other forms of affection. You haven't mentioned yesterday's argument either which only sent Jungwon's mind into an even bigger havoc.

Your head is pressed against the window as you nod, lazily tracing some pattern on the glass. "I think so."

He sighs and finds your fingers with his, intertwining them together hesitantly. Your lack of displeasure encourages him a little more, so he starts caressing the skin on your hand with his thumb.

"It was never my intention to upset you, love. I didn't mean to hurt you like that," he finally addresses the problem.

Turning your face to his, you look right into his sorry eyes. You sigh, feeling a little better about the argument after spending a whole on night thinking about it. So you smile at him weakly and say, "I know."

"Can you forgive me?"

"I know you meant well and you only want the best for me but some of the things you said really hurt me, Won," you admit, looking back down at your lap.

You feel Jungwon shifting in his seat and moving closer to you, raising your intertwined hands up and pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

"I'm so, so sorry," he apologises, remorse nearly dripping from his voice. "I know it was uncalled for. I don't actually think any of that about you, I just let the frustration speak through me yesterday, I'm sorry."

"It's okay," you whisper.

"No, it's not. I was cruel and unfair towards you." You take a glance at him again and notice how his eyes are looking for yours desperately. "I just love you a lot and it hurts me to hear somebody speaking to you in such way. And yes, you said she's always like that and she doesn't mean to be offensive but I still think you should talk to her about that, love."

"I will," you reassure your boyfriend, squeezing his hand slightly. "I've thought about that a lot yesterday and I admit that she can get pretty out of line sometimes. I'll try to tell her that the next time I see her."

Jungwon smiles down at you, feeling proud of you finally taking a step forward into becoming more confrontational.

"I love you so much," he says again and you get lost for a second in his sparkly eyes. "And I'm really sorry for what I've said."

You lean your head on his shoulder and sigh in content. "Apology accepted."

NISHIMURA RIKI

It took couple good hours before Niki's stubborn mind finally allowed him to realize his mistake. With a heart heavy with guilt, he quietly closes the front door behind him and takes off his shoes. Passing the living room to go to the bedroom, he stops dead in his tracks as he notices the TV being still turned on silently. Niki turns around and his gaze instantly falls on your sleeping figure on the couch.

He crouches down in front of you, heart dropping the second he spots your glistening from tears cheeks. Niki lets out a heavy sigh as he snatches the folded blanket laying on the headrest of the couch, and engulfs you with the plush fabric securely. Then he slides into the empty space behind you and sneaks his arms around your middle, pulling your back into his chest closely. You're being awaken by the feeling of his warm lips pressing right below your ear - the place that's always been your weak spot.

"Niki?" You ask quietly as you turn around and lay chest to chest with your boyfriend.

He swipes your hair away from your dim eyes. "You shouldn't be sleeping on the couch, you're gonna hurt your back."

The silence doesn't last long as the both of you speak at the same time, "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry."

You look at each other in confusion before Niki chokes out, "Why are you apologizing? You did nothing wrong, I know you're just worried."

"Yeah but maybe I shouldn't have pushed you this much either," you stumble out, looking everywhere but into his eyes.

Niki scoffs quietly and pulls you closely to him, kissing your forehead. "You know that's not true. I've been really frustrated with work lately and it was stupid of me to take it all out on you. I shouldn't have and I'm sorry."

"It's not the first time you've done that, you know?" You mumble into his t-shirt, sniffling slightly as you feel you're starting to get emotional again. "You always push me away once something starts bothering you."

"I know," he whispers as he slips his fingers underneath your shirt and caresses your back soothingly. "I feel like an idiot for blowing you off like this. I'll try to start talking to you more from now on, I promise."

You hum and lift your head to press a kiss to his jawline. "I really only mean to help you. We'll work on your communication, alright?"

"Together?" He breathes out.

'Together."

a/n: guys the way i almost folded and wrote them all happy endings 💀💀 i literally couldn't decide if i wanted yn to forgive hoon or not so i left the ending kinda open so that you guys can handle him the way you want to lmao

permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19, @l0ver1ki

taglist: @byu @hwabang @choclate32 @kkawsomeness24 @nobodyshallenter @sunsunl0ver @hiqhkey @mimimovv @iraa567 @nes-caf @maybemiko @neptunetododeku @aureliaxuuu @1004bangchan @tobiosbbyghorl @rosie-rosem @kiroosan @ramenoil @wonwushu @redfieldposts @lunacrtk @marvelahsobx @opheliaas-stuff @dylanswifeyp @hydroyakshaluvr69 @ranieannbalean14 @haechxnnie @heeseungssidechick @lolilkkk @hoon0logy @iadorenaki @chaechae-23 @jhopesucker (so many of you guys won't tag no matter how much i try so im sorry but idk what im doing wrong help :/)

#it's almost 1:30 am so ill do a grammar check tmr i promise #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen reactions #enhypen reaction

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paradisedumpling · 2 months

Text

Wife's Best Friend

SYNOPSIS: aeri is married, but she's really starting to wish she was married to her wife's best friend instead

CONTENT WARNING: suggestive themes; mentions of infidelity; aeri centered; not fully proof read

A/N: surprise!! it's been a while I know, so I'm posting this as an apology. I don't condone any of the things suggested here I feel like that's important to say, I just had this silly idea while listening to this brazilian song while I was super tired and decided to write this also while super tired, so this is just a silly thing while I don't finish my wips

_________________________________________

Aeri sighed deeply as you walked past her, shooting her a seductive smile that had her heart racing and cheeks burning. The tray of food almost fell from her hands when you stopped by the backyard door to stretch, making your shirt rile up and expose your back that was glistening with sweat from the hot weather today. Aeri almost felt tempted to go up to you and hold your waist, but you quickly walked outside to talk to her wife Somi.

Watching the two of you enter a joyful conversation, Aeri couldn't help the small guilty feeling in her chest as all she could think about were the beautiful way you laughed throwing your head back instead of anything her wife was doing.

She was supposed to be bringing the food outside as Somi's family, her in-laws, would be arriving any time now for a small weekend gathering in their house. But here she was, admiring her wife's beautiful best friend.

Aeri wasn't quite sure when this interest began. Sure, she had always found extremely gorgeous and irresistible since the moment you met. But Aeri loved Somi, she really did. She married your best friend for a reason. But when your kindness and weekly brownies tray became lingering touchs to her cheek and hands, and your visits almost daily, even when Somi wasn't home. Aeri couldn't help the temptation that it was resisting your charms.

She never reciprocated them. At least not explicitly. But she couldn't help but fantasize about the way your eyes became halfmoons everytime you smiled. Or about how warm your hands felt anytime you touched a part of her skin, in contrast with Somi's usually colder ones. Or even about how everytime you came over for a movie night and insisted on sitting at the other side of Aeri and burying yourself in her arms for 'protection'.

Somi was a great and loving wife. She never imagined marrying anyone but Somi in her entire life. But you made Aeri feel desired, and that made her heart race any time she thought about you.

It felt so tempting, but she knew it wasn't right to desire you.

She couldn't.

She wanted to.

But she couldn't.

So she immediately turned around when the doorbell rang, gripping the tray in her hands tighter at the startle before putting it down in the table and yelling. "I'll go get it!"

"It must be them!" Somi's muffled words made Aeri's steps get quicker, opening her front door with a big smile.

Her father in law immediately pulled her in for a hug, patting her back happily before he let go and made his way inside to probably see his daughter. But Aeri couldn't dwell much on that when your sweet voice filled her ears.

"Mrs. Jeon!" It almost felt automatic as Aeri turned around in time to see you with open arms and a bright smile come hug your best friend's mother warmly. "It's been so long!"

"It sure has, dear!" The woman smiled at you with familiarity, breaking apart from the embrace to squeeze Aeri's hand in greeting before following her husband deeper in the house.

She barely realized the smile growing in her lips as she watched the scene unfold, nor did she mind when you hugged her arm, smiling brightly at her before the two of you turned to greet her sister in law.

"Evelyn! Get in, get in!" Without waiting for a response, you turned to Aeri again. "I'll go help them finish settling the table down." Lingering for a few extra seconds, you squeezed Aeri's hand and kissed her cheek before leaving to where the others were.

With another deep sigh, almost as if enchanted Aeri watched you leave with a small smile. Her mind beginning to wander to the thought of you when someone clearly their throats had her attention.

A bit annoyed, Aeri turned back around, finding Evelyn still outside looking at her with arms crossed and a quirked eyebrow.

"Won't get inside, Evelyn?"

"Does Somi know you're letting anyone treat you like that?" The light venom in the girl's words didn't go unnoticed by Aeri and for a moment, she felt like a sinner. The guilty grew bigger in her chest, making her palms sweaty.

"I don't really know what you're talking about." Grimacing nervously, she stepped aside to let the girl in, closing the door with some force. wincing at the noise it made.

"Yeah, right..." Evelyn narrowed her eyes watching Aeri for a few seconds. "Be sure to set your boundaries next time, or I'm telling unnie you might need to talk."

"It's okay, I'm not uncomfortable or anything." Perhaps that wasn't the best thing to say as Evelyn eyebrow rose again, but she didn't say any further words, leaving silently to join you and Somi's family outside in the backyard.

Shaking her head, Aeri focused on bringing the rest of the food to the table, chatting idly with you and her father-in-law while she finished her tasks, trying her best to ignore your blatant flirtatious actions.

She couldn't.

She really wanted to.

But she couldn't.

Everything felt safe during the first half of lunchtime, but when Somi tried to hold Aeri's hand and she simply dropped her wife's hand to pass you the salad bowl and laugh at whatever comments you were making, a whisper in her ear had her heart stopping.

"What was that about, Aeri?"

Shrugging, Aeri didn't have the courage to look Somi in the eyes as she mumbled a reply. "Nothing." That was a lie, but how could Aeri tell the truth when your hand had just rested on her knee, mindlessly drawing calming circles. "Don't worry about it."

Her mother-in-law's questioning gaze didn't go unnoticed by Aeri either, but all she could go was shrug and ignore, pretending nothing was happening. Pretending you didn't make her heart race. Pretending the thought that she perhaps married the wrong friend didn't go through her mind at least once lately.

She couldn't.

She wanted to.

But she had not to want to.

When you got up and volunteered yourself to wash the dishes, Aeri embarrassingly quickly offered to help, leaving Somi and her family to be with you inside. Alone.

The smile you gave Aeri as you got out of earshot was enough to make her legs weak. But your melodic giggles cleared all of her thoughts, heart racing as she followed you inside the kitchen.

"I thought madam Uchinaga didn't like washing other people's dishes." You teased, leaning your head to the side to look at Aeri better, exposing all of your neck for her.

Aeri gulped down hard, blushing hard at the sight and the name you called her. Something about her last name coming out of your mouth sounded so perfect and warm to Aeri, she needed to make you say it more times.

"It's okay if it's with you." Perhaps it had been her words, or the way your eyes widened in an almost victory, but Aeri didn't question herself anymore when she found herself hugging you from behind. To help with the dishes of course.

"What are you doing, Aeri?" Despite your words, you made no moves to break from the position you found yourselves in.

"No madam Uchinaga anymore?" In a whisper, Aeri's eyes moved down the length of your neck, inhaling sharply and biting her lips. "Gave up on trying, sweetie?"

The hum you let out in response had Aeri gripping the edge of the sink to contain herself from doing anything to you.

Somi was right outside with her family. Aeri's in-laws. She had a wife. She–

"I'm not the one who has to try anymore, sweetie." Turning around in her arms, you gave Aeri a prideful charming smile, bringing a hand up to lightly caress her cheeks. "It's a bit warm today, isn't it? I think I'll go change my shirt." Finally breaking free from her hold, you walked seemingly nonchalantly to exit the kitchen, stopping at the threshold. Looking back at her, you shot her a sly smile, eyes dark with something that only filled Aeri with temptation. "Want to help me, madam Uchinaga?"

Her feet moved mindlessly before she came to a halt, hearing her wife laughing outside.

You left her eyesight, and Aeri almost vividly could imagine you walking inside the guestroom that was basically yours in her house, going through the clothes you had permanently in her house since you were often so much.

Oh, how much Aeri wanted to go after you.

But she couldn't.

She really wanted to.

But she could not.....

Right?

_________________________________________

a/n: I'll probably not be proud of this when I wake up tomorrow but what's done is done, also ambiguous ending because I suck at endings and it's your decision to commit to it or not really :)

thank you so much for reading!! <3

#aespa x reader #giselle x reader #aespa giselle #aespa giselle x reader #aeri uchinaga #aeri uchinaga x reader

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everythingne · 5 months

Text

wing damage - mv1

Eldest of the Halliwell-Horner pack, Y/n “Nadine” Horner gets her heart broken by the man she’s supposed to wed in six months. Four years of love slipping down the drain faster than she can try and grasp at the remaining water droplets. But... not all hope is lost as far as the f1 community is concerned and they might be right, since Max seems to be trying to get a little closer to his Team Principals daughter.

max verstappen x influencer!horner!reader

warnings & notes: cheating, mentions of alcohol, small age gap (24-27), strong language, probably inaccurate f1 information, using a name as a placeholder for y/n bc i’m not typing that every time, dates are off by two days in the beginning. deal, might have gotten christian's lore wrong but idk man he's just a white guy

fc: sophia la corte (and various ginger women on pinterest.)

04 MARCH 2024 — TWITTER. ↴

—

BAHRAIN, 04 MARCH 2024 — REDBULL GARAGE ↴

“Do you want me to confront him?” Max asks, sitting down next to me in the paddock. His hand comes to squeeze my knee, my father rubbing my back as he deletes every photo—every memory of Jacob Taylor from my phone. Four years down the drain. My friends back home at my apartment are currently bagging up his stuff. Both Mona and Ally will move in with me, just like college again, once his stuff is empty. My bare apartment will soon be filled with our old nick nacks but i can hardly be happy about it.

Cheated.

The man who spent 50k on an emerald cut four karat ring with a real gold band, cheated? The man who cried when his mom told him she loved me, cheated? The man who cancelled an entire film set because it conflicted with my schedule, cheated? The man who won over the hearts of not only Geri Horner, but Christian Horner? He was the one who cheated?

Jacob was (strong emphasis on the was) the highest standard I ever held. Now, I didn’t even know what standards to have anymore. Anyone could be a cheater. I never stood a chance.

“It’s fine, Max.” I say softly, wiping at my face again to try and make it look less like I’ve been sobbing since I found out as soon as the plane touched down two days ago. The paddock is buzzing, qualifiers getting ready to start for the first GP. The warm Bahraini sun beats down on the track and I can see the heat wiggling above it. Even in March it’s as hot as summer over here, and part of me misses the gloomy, smoggy streets of London right now.

“It’s not fine!” Max groans at me, throwing his head back in exclamation. I know he’s sick and tired of hearing me say it for the thousandth time, but if I say it’s not fine, I’ll break down. And we can’t have that.

“Max,” Pierre’s voice calls before Max can go on another tirade about killing Jacob. Max turns and I can see the hesitance in him to leave my side. He’s been like this since I met him the first day he raced with Red Bull years back—instantly the two of us clicked. When the days got hard, or his dad got on his back a bit too much, I would appear by his side and with a tiny smile somehow I'd fix everything. After I became his sort of 'chauffeur' when one of our drivers got sick in Abu Dhabi his first year, and we got stuck in an hour of traffic with nothing to do but talk, we became basically glued to each others sides.

I think having my unwavering support made a lot of the transition into Red Bull easier for him. And in moments like these, where he's watching me with a keen eye, I don’t know how I lived so long without his calm presence at my side. I was only a five years old when my dad joined Redbull, it’s been my entire life, and every racer who has passed through our team has never stuck to my side like Max Verstappen has.

“Go.” I nudge his knee when I see his hand twitch and hover by his helmet, eyes darting to me and then Pierre who waits in the doorway, so I supply, “I’ll be here when you get back.”

Max nods, giving me a departing hug before he gets up and starts tugging his racing suit on. Immediately my father replaces him, turning my head to card his hands through my hair.

“Oh, honey.” My father murmurs, squeezing my arms as he lets me lean into him, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong, Papa.” I sigh, leaning into him and letting his wrap his arms tight around me.

“No, I trusted that boy. That’s what I did wrong.” He says back, before handing me back my phone. We sit like that for a long time, people passing us without asking. Everyone knew. I had found out the same way they all did—on social media. Jacob didn’t even have the balls to tell me himself. Fucking coward.

Eventually someone calls my father away, the racing must now in full swing. So I force myself to sulk off to a hidden corner where I can munch on chocolates and watch Max from a little tv. Not as good as my usual perch next to my dad, but I don’t need the public seeing me the day I find out my fiancé of several years had been cheating almost the whole time. With his co-star. Fucking hell.

10 MARCH 2024 — INSTAGRAM ↴

THENADINEHORNER MADE A NEW POST!

liked by maxverstappen, danielricciardo, charlesleclerc, and 124k others...

thenadinehorner: the halliwell-horner household >>

tagged: christianhorner, gerihalliwell, blubelhals, theoliviahorner.

USER HAS COMMENTS LIMITED ON THIS POST

gerihalliwell: love u lots mini ginger spice!!!!

⤷ thenadinehorner: mama ill cry </3

charlesleclerc: maman says hello and that she will have wine for you when you come to monaco

⤷ arthurleclec: nadine you are very beautiful do not let a man win -- maman

⤷ thenadinehorner: OMGGGG <3<3<3 XOXO MAMAN JE VOUS AIME TELLEMENT

christianhorner: my beautiful daughter

theoliviahorner: best sister ever

allycameragirl: cutest family fr

blubelhals: I LOVE YOU NADI COME BACK SOON !!!

maxverstappen: you and your sisters together is recipe for disaster

⤷ danielricciardo: bet they're planning ur downfall.

⤷ thenadinehorner: beware both of u 🔪

10 MARCH 2023 — LONDON, ENGLAND.

I knew returning home to my apartment was going to be hard. I had spent a few days with my dad, Geri, Olivia, Bluebell, and Monty. My father's third marriage had brought me Bluebell and Monty, Olivia's mother my first step mother and my father's second wife.

My mother? I didn't speak to her for good reason.

But being in my father and Geri's home had been refreshing enough to start and heal my heart. I also learned that Geri was really fucking good at healing, it involved a lot of wine and a lot of cursing.

My apartment had been a home full of happy memories of moving in with Jacob, and our time living together everyday I wasn’t at GPs and he wasn’t on set. Memories of our families and friends together with us, and now it would be just me. So empty. Alone. White walls with no decorations anymore. Just staring at me, closing in slowly.

God, I’d rather kill myself than deal with the solid ache in my heart that hasn’t left in almost a week.

Opening the door I sucked in a breath of pure agony. My father’s warm hand around my shoulder a soft reminder that even if I felt abandoned, I wasn’t alone. Not by a long shot. And as the door clicks open, my hand finds the lights instinctually, and my eyes widen to dinner plates.

“Welcome home!” a chorus cheers and I laugh, all my of old friends circled around the end of the foyers hallway, wine glasses and soju bottles in hand. I can’t even speak as tears fill my eyes and the girls run to me, waving my father off. He kisses my hairline, tells me he'll text me when he gets home, and shuts the door as my friends cart me into the kitchen and wipe my tears and fix up my messy hair with giggles.

“Tonight!” One of my friends—eventually I source the drunken giggles to Ally, “we will make you so hot and sexy, he will regret it.”

“And if he comes crawling back!” It’s Mona now.

“We will rip his dick off!” Marija shouts and the girls raise shots to me.

“Guys—what is all of this?” I can’t help but laugh, and then the three look at each other and smile.

“So… you’ve heard of a revenge dress, right?” Ally says slowly, and it all clicks.

—

10 MARCH 2023 — INSTAGRAM

THENADINEHORNER MADE A NEW POST!

liked by maxverstappen, charlesleclerc, christianhorner and 976k others..

thenadinehorner: ‘little black dress, who you doin it for?’ 🖤

tagged: monanotlisa, allycameragirl, marijaswrld

USER HAS LIMITED COMMENTS ON THIS POST.

maxverstappen: Is this that ‘hot girl era’ thing?

⤷ charlesleclerc: i think so.

monanotlisa: absolutely sexy. as per usual.

allycameragirl: FUCKKK UR HOT 🖤🖤

landonorris: one direction???

⤷ thenadinehorner: ofc you know it’s one direction.

⤷ landonorris: cannot tell if this is a compliment or not but thanks ?

marijaswrld: 🧎‍♀️ < me

#my fic #formula one fic #formula 1 fic #formula one smau #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen smau

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billybob598 · 8 months

Text

Consequences of Our Actions (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

2 fics in one day whaaaa?????? Double whammy bitches. Anyways here's part 2! Next fic will be pt2 to How Many People? Again, any feedback good or bad welcomed! Enjoy reading!

Part 1 here

Word Count: 1.3K (kinda short but who cares? (me))

“And it’s another goal for Y/N Y/L/N! Wow! She has been blossoming here at Bayern Munich.” Alexia tries to ignore the game playing on the TV in the team's common area.

“Could you shut that off, gracias,” she calls out to her teammates.

“Oh, come one Ale. Just because she’s not our teammate anymore doesn’t mean we can’t support her,” Mapi says back as she watches Ingrid dance around happily at another one of your goals. You had transferred to Bayern a little over a month ago, breaking Alexia’s heart while simultaneously repairing yours. It didn’t help that you were performing better than you had ever at Barca. Everyone at Barca understood your decision, you were not getting the playing time you deserved and the few close to you knew that it was tearing you apart to be around Alexia every day. Moving was for the best, for everyone. Everyone except Alexia, it took her days, a lot of movies, and her mother’s home cooking before she recovered from walking into your bare apartment. While she had thought about contacting you numerous times, Ingrid and Keira had advised her not to, stating that it would only make things worse. The captain missed you. She missed how whenever she called you’d be there, she missed how happy you looked when you were playing football, she missed how you’d give her kisses on the forehead before she fell asleep, she missed everything about you. While you were out there, playing and looking better than ever, Alexia was kicking herself over how she let you slip through her fingers. Her teammates were starting to become concerned, they’d never seen Alexia so hung up on anyone, not even Jenni.

Almost two months since moving to Germany and you were thriving. Everyone was so kind, the team welcomed you with open arms, the fans were already calling you an integral part of the team, everything was going perfectly. Yet, you still felt this emptiness in your heart. You knew what you were missing, but the whole point of moving was to get over her. You’d be damned if you let yourself fall down that rabbit hole again. So, you went on dates, sometimes they’d be mutual connections, sometimes they were from dating apps, and sometimes they were set up by your friends. None of them made you feel like Alexia did. None of them gave you that certain rush of adrenaline that she did. You were trying everything to get over her, but no matter what, at least once a day your thoughts would wander back to her. Reaching out to her was something you contemplated regularly however, the few friends you had made in Germany had told you not to. They said that you were there to heal. They were right, of course. But, everything just seemed off without her, Alexia gave you balance. As weird as it sounds, she was your everything even if you weren’t hers.

Once again Alexia’s finger was hovering over your contact. Once again she sighed and turned her phone off. Instead, she decided to shoot her mom a quick text asking if she could come over. Ten minutes later, Alexia is settled on her mom’s couch with Eli sitting across from her with a concerned look on her face.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong, carino,” Eli asks delicately. Alexia groans in frustration.

“I don’t know, mama. I thought I would be okay, but every damn thing reminds me of her. She just won’t get out of my head. I can’t believe I lost her!” She exclaims, her hands running down her face. Eli just looks sympathetically at her daughter.

“Maybe you haven’t lost her, bebe.”

“What?”

“I mean, you could always go after her, eh? Don’t you have a few days off anyway? Go see her, tell her how you feel about her,” her mother tries to convince her. Alexia shakes her head,

“Mama, what makes you think she would want to see me? I broke her heart. I’m the reason she left! She probably wants nothing to do with me,” she mumbles out the last part sadly.

“You don’t know that. You won’t know that until you talk to her,” Eli reasons, trying everything to get her daughter to shoot her shot. Slowly nodding her head, Alexia starts to come around to the idea. Whipping out her phone, she quickly searches for flights to Munich.

The next day, Alexia walks through the streets of Munich. Surprisingly, your face is everywhere. Billboards, bus benches, store windows, apparently the people of Germany adored you. This doesn’t ease Alexia’s nerves at all. She had it all planned out, after reaching out to one of the Bayern coaches she had a connection with, she was able to discover what time your guys’ training ended and what coffee shop you frequently visited after. So, she waits inside the coffee shop for a few minutes until you walk in. You looked perfect, your hair was still damp from the shower, the Bayern Munich hoodie you donned fit you just right, and the veins on your hand popped ever so slightly when you removed your backpack from your shoulders. There was only one small problem. You weren’t alone. Accompanying you was Klara Bühl. She was standing a little too close to you, her hand a little too close to yours, her laugh a little too loud at your joke. Alexia wanted to sink into her seat. She wanted to disappear. You had moved on. God, she was stupid for thinking you would wait around for her, clearly you had not. She pushed the cap resting on her head further down. Now she had to get out of there. Taking one last sip of her coffee, she stood up as inconspicuously as she could. Her feet moved swiftly carrying her towards the exit, she was almost there, so close.

“Alexia?” Your voice stopped her dead in her tracks. She did not want to turn around, she was begging that you would let her go. You did not. “Is that you?” Taking a deep breath, Alexia spun around on her heel with a forced smile on her face.

“Y/N? Hey!” Her voice was about two octaves higher than normal.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, Klara sitting behind you was smiling softly.

“Umm, nothing. We had a few days off,” she tries to work her way out of the situation.

“So you came to Germany? Really?” Your eyebrow was raised slightly. You did not buy it.

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N. Just enjoy your time with your girlfriend,” Alexia snapped, gesturing towards the German behind you. Your eyes widened at the insinuation that Klara was your girlfriend, but before you could say anything Alexia turned around and stormed out of the quiet cafe. You stood frozen to the spot, dumbfounded.

“Go get your girl, dumbass,” Klara, your friend, speaks up from her spot. Didn’t need to tell you twice, you shake out of your trance and sprint through the doors before searching down the sidewalks. Klara watches in amusement while sipping her coffee. Your neck was starting to ache from how quickly you were whipping it around looking for Alexia. Finally spotting her blonde streaked hair in the crowd. You push your way through many groups of people until you reach the Spanish player. Alexia jumps in surprise at your hand suddenly making its way onto her shoulder.

“Y/N? Wha-”

“Shut up and let me speak,” you cut her off. She immediately stops her question. “I’ve missed you, Ale. Like, a lot. I tried to move on, I did, but for some unfathomable reason, I can’t. I know you said ‘no’ before but if I’m right in thinking that you flew over here to see me then, I think I can ask again,” You take a deep breath, “Would you like to go on a date with me?” Alexia’s face breaks out into a blinding smile. She looks at you, her heart beating like crazy inside of her chest.

“I would love nothing more.”

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso fic #woso imagine #barca femeni x reader #barca femeni #espwnt #espwnt x reader #bayern munich frauen x reader #bayern munich frauen

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