#i just can’t accept that my body is not self cleaning

[takeawaythepain]

every night i spend at least fifteen minutes convincing myself to brush my teeth and do my skincare routine. like babe, you know you’re going to do it, why do you waste so much time mentally preparing??

#i just can’t accept that my body is not self cleaning #my thoughts

[awfcspencer]

reader feels ugly and just upset and leah comforts? pure fluff I beg xx

Don’t Listen To Them || leah williamson x reader

prompt: requested! Social media can be a cruel, cruel place.

warnings: self confidence issues

a/n: hope you enjoy it! happy v-day to those who celebrate <33

Inside your shared home, you and Leah decided to stay in and build a charcuterie board as a snack before you both cuddle up together and watch a film. For dinner, Leah had lit some candles and put on some slow music while she watched you cook her favorite chicken alfredo pasta recipe. The both of you decided to pop a bottle of red wine as a nice way to end the jampacked week. Dinner was relaxing, enjoying one another’s company and talking about miscellaneous topics. Leah cleaned up the reminiscent of dinner as you began on the board. Organizing the charcuterie board was pretty simple, you had found a Pinterest photo to recreate, and Leah had accompanied you to the grocery store to collect the items you would need.

 Placing the finishing touches on the board, you grabbed your phone located on the other side of the kitchen island. The board had taken you a lot longer than you assumed it would, but you wanted it to be perfect, so you found yourself examining the picture intricately and making sure everything was placed exactly. 

Leah had become bored roughly about 10 minutes into creating the board, she paced back and forth around the kitchen and occasionally sighed loudly to really get the point across that she was bored.

“Wait let me take a photo first Lee,” As you swat her hand away for what felt like the hundredth time tonight from the perfectly aligned board that she had been secretly picking at each time you would set a row of crackers or stack of pepperonis in place. Each time she would eat off the board, you would have to replace the food and scold her. It was like baking a cake with a toddler who would lick frosting off the spoon when you weren’t looking.

“Oh silly me how could I forget Instagram eats first.” Rolling her eyes and grabbing the remote in the living room to put on a movie. “Mamma Mia tonight?” It was always a go-to in the home. You loved the cute little plot and Leah liked singing the ABBA songs loudly in your ear.

“Perfect idea baby,” nodding your head towards the blonde. Carefully balancing the food in your left hand as you make your way towards the couch after you took the perfect photo. Then remembering that you have to get back up and grab the two red wine glasses the two of you had been nursing before. Placing yourself between the defender’s long legs on the L-shaped couch, leaning backwards into her as she placed her head on your shoulder, placing a few kisses in the crook of your neck. 

“Don’t start what you can’t finish Williamson.” Whispering as you kissed her now reddened cheeks.

You grabbed a few of the pepperoni’s and tossed them into your mouth, reaching your hand back and allowing Leah to have a few after she made a toddler-like gesture and a huff indicating that she wanted one.

“I sometimes think you are a 26-year-old stuck in a toddler’s body.” All night Leah had managed to find some way to annoy or antagonize you, all in fun though. 

Pretending to be offended, “Well toddlers don’t cuddle so maybe I should get up.” Making a move to get up and sit on the opposite side of the couch. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t get up, I am comfy, and you are warm.” You plead out in a joking manner, turning towards her placing a kiss on the tip of her nose as you forced her back down to her original position.

“So nice to me now but less than 30 seconds ago you were mean.” Folding her arms across her body and a stern look on her face. You wanted to make a comment about the state of which is looked right now, how it was so toddler-like, but you refrained, settling with a loud laugh.

“Momentary lapse of character” Reaching out to grab a peace treaty as an apology, “Olive?”

“You know the way to my heart, apology accepted.” As she takes it from your grasp and plops it into her mouth, pulling you back closer to her from her previous fake exit as you leaned into her chest.

Opening Instagram to post the pictures you had taken throughout the night. “Do you want me to tag you?” Organizing the selected photos on the screen and applying final touches on the photos. Ending it by adding a song in the background that had been playing when Leah grabbed you away from the masterpiece you had been creating and pulled you in for a quick salsa twirl and leaned you backwards and placed a kiss on your lips.

“Yeah so I can repost it” as she watched you create the post. You and Leah had been seeing each other for a few months, baking in the privacy for a bit before you let the whole world know. Each week that had passed, you and Leah got less and less subtle, performing a ‘soft launch’ through similar locations but different angles or the way she would repost your stories. This specific collection of photos was new though as it featured a slide of a side profile of Leah looking down at the board. It also had only 2 dinner plates, 2 sets of silverware, and 2 wine glasses in one of the photos, indicating it was in fact a date.

The fans had started to catch on and for the most part, the reactions had been mostly positive. Opposite of your life, Leah’s life was in the spotlight. Everything she did, everything she said, and everywhere she went was documented on some sort of social media outlet. Your account had maybe a few thousand followers, most of them you had gained from when Leah first started reposting your posts. So this post would set in stone that you and Leah were officially an item. 

Clicking upload and then facing your phone downward on the table, cuddling backwards more into Leah with your back into her chest. Baking in her warm body, strong arms, and vanilla scent. “Omg who is this beautiful blonde in the third slide?” Gushing over herself as she quickly reposts your photos and places her phone next to yours, pulling you in tighter. “Always so humble Lee” gently swatting her on the thigh as she clicked play.

Every few minutes throughout the movie, your phone would go off, a little buzz that at first you just assumed was a few Instagram likes but after what felt like your phone was vibrating every second, you untangle slightly from Leah and grab your phone.

Your post had over 100,000 likes and several comments from people who you definitely did not know. You scroll casually through the notifications on your device. A few negative comments stuck out to you and when you opened the app, you were greeted with hundreds more.

‘Can’t believe she is dating THE Leah Williamson.’ 

‘Leah definitely downgraded.’

Several comments simply just said, ‘ugly’. The hurtful comments went on and on.

Private accounts and faceless profiles, people would say anything they desired behind a screen when there were no direct consequences. Harsh words that initially you were able to push to the side, but each one that you read dug a little deeper. The response was overwhelming, there were new comments each minute, and almost none of them were nice. It hurt and each one you read felt more real. You could feel the tears coming, the emotions coming out, so you briefly excused herself saying you needed to use the restroom, desperately hoping that the way your voice cracked was unnoticeable.

The words felt true as you locked eyes in the mirror with yourself. Where you enough to be with someone like Leah? I mean she was absolutely drop-dead gorgeous, and what were you? Staring at yourself in the mirror you noticed each and every blemish, freckle, or pore on your face, and the tears began to fall. The grey sweatsuit that you had initially put on for the chill date now felt ugly on your frame, you wanted to rip the clothes off. Someone who was dating Leah Williamson wouldn’t wear such an ugly outfit.

Back on the couch, Leah was beginning to get worried at the amount of time you had been gone. The part Leah knew was your favorite was coming up so she reached for the remote on the coffee table to pause it so you could enjoy it when you returned. In attempting to pause the movie, she noticed your phone open on your Instagram comment section. The vulgar comments made her sick. They were piling in with each minute that passed, and she felt angry, but then she felt sad. She quickly left the couch and rushed to the bathroom, desperately hoping that maybe the pasta didn’t sit right, or you were busy washing your hands. 

A soft knock on the door took your eyes off the mirror. “Hey babe, you all good in there?” the blonde questioned. Leah’s heart was beating out of her chest because she had heard the soft sniffles from outside the door as she walked up to it. She knew you had read the comments. She wanted to run in and immediately convince you that not a single one of those comments were true, but she didn’t want to overwhelm you.

“Don’t come in.” You didn’t mean to scream at her, you weren’t angry with her, but you did not want her to see you like this, your makeup now smeared and tears freely falling from your eyes. You quickly locked the door and rushed to the opposite side of the bathroom. She would break up with you, she would realize the comments were true, you were ugly. You were fidgeting with your hair, a trait you’ve had since primary school when you got overwhelmed or nervous, it was a way to calm down.

“Baby please let me in, nothing any of those comments said is true. Nothing.” She pleaded, hoping she could convince you to let her in. She wanted to pull you into a big hug and say anything and everything she could to help you see that nothing they said was true or how she felt.

“You don’t mean that.” Your head was clouded, only being able to replay each and every comment in your brain. Your eyes continued to shift uncontrollably across different sections of your face or body that you felt ashamed of in the mirror.

“I love the way your baby hairs stand out even though you try and try to brush them down in the morning. I love the little crinkle in your nose when you get annoyed or confused about something. I love the way your tongue pokes out of the corner of your mouth when you are trying to focus really hard on something. I love your freckles, every single one, especially when you get some sun and they especially become vibrant. I love the way you lick your lips before you speak. I love the way each time you laugh or smile I can see the indent on your cheeks of your dimples even though you try and claim you don’t have them. I love the way you twirl your hair into curls when you get stressed. I love your eyes, it is like I can see a sparkle in them when you look at something you love. I love the way you close your eyes sometimes because you say it helps you think more clearly. I love you baby, every single inch of you. Those comments do not know you like I know you. They do not see how truly beautiful you are to me,” the compliments gushing out of Leah like it was second nature, truly meaning each and every word.

There was silence on your side of the door, taking in what Leah said. A click of the door as you unlocked it and Leah rushed in and to your side immediately. You sobbed into the defender’s chest as she rubbed large circles on your back.

“Thank you, Lee, really.” Your breathing had returned to normal and your heart no longer felt like it was racing. You felt safe and loved in the blonde's embrace.

“It is only you baby, you are my love. Don’t listen to them,” pulling you in tighter and placing a soft kiss on your temple as she forced you to look her in the eyes. She took her thumb and brushed over the final tears that escaped your eye. 

“I can’t believe I let social media get to me, this is so stupid. I’m sorry for crying and for ruining our date,” your voice no louder than a whisper as you look down at the bathroom tile. 

She forces your head back up with a finger under your chin, “It’s not stupid baby. I get it, it can be a lot. But anytime you feel like it all gets too much, I want you to talk to me. I want to know. And you never need to apologize to me, and certainly not for crying baby.” 

Another wave of silence fell over the bathroom. The two of you are still huddled in each other's arms, swaying slightly left and right as you come down from the major wave of emotions previously.

"I'm pretty sure we still have mint chocolate ice cream from last week," she quietly whispered, a small upward quirk of her lip that turned into a soft smile. She knew it was your favorite and that you rarely let yourself keep it inside the household because you would easily eat a whole pint. You matched her grin, locking her fingers with yours, and pulled her towards the kitchen.

Two spoons and one large bowl of ice cream was shared between the two of you. Leah had made the final touches by adding chocolate syrup and way too much whipped cream. You took your pointer finger to swipe the white cream and tapped Leah on the nose.

"Who is acting like a toddler now?" wiping her nose with a nearby napkin as you shrugged and placed another large bite into your mouth.

#woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso #woso soccer #woso blurbs #womens soccer #leah williamson x you #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #arsenal wfc #awfc #arsenal women

[panxramic]

Missa cubito ohmygod today’s stream was SOOO.

Firstly, I haven’t talked about this but the fact that q!Missa has finally accepted the family home as his home too makes me want to snob. The fact that he calls it HIS home too, after spending so long distancing himself and saying that he doesn’t deserve to live with them? It makes my heart spin. And yes he still has his movements of self doubt but he knows now that this is his home and this is where he will always return to no matter what.

And I adore the little things that Missa notices. Last stream he got so giddy over the barrel in the house with his name on it and got so happy that he was included with the rest of the family even if he didn’t have anything in it. And then once again today gasping and getting happy at seeing the barrel again as if it was the first time all over. Missa loves being loved and he adores the little things the family does to show it. And how does he return the favor? With drawings he can leave behind dedicated to each one of them. Because he loves his family and he will find a way to physically show it even if he can’t be awake when they are.

And ohhh today with the cakes. He struggled so much and he lost so much energy trying to make the birthday cake for Tallulah but he would not give up until he got it done for both of them because his kids deserve it. And can I also point out I don’t think he realized it was also Chayanne’s birthday but he still made him a cake because he wanted to give something to his son and not make him feel left out. And when he was making the drawing for Tallulah he would not stop and he would not let ANYTHING distract him because his daughter deserves the world and she deserves the perfect painting.

Then come the raccoons. He goes and helps them clean because maybe he can earn money for the family and help out more around the house -> something Missa has always struggled with. He always wants to provide for the family the way they have him so he goes along with these raccoons. Then it all goes to shit when Bad logs on and he finds out it was his home they were cleaning. He finds the dead bodies and he gets scared because… who is this man he’s been calling his friend? Why does he have a grave of bodies underneath his home?

Missa runs. He tries to run away from q!Bad but he always finds him. And then it gets revealed that Missa was working with the raccoons and Bad backs away from Missa because how could he betray him. And Missa does try to explain it, he doesn’t know what is going on. He’s lost and confused and no one is answering his questions. q!Bad threatens and leaves q!Missa with the racoons just for the racoons to stab Missa in the back and rob him too.

This is when he asks himself, who can he trust? q!Bad isn’t who he thought he was, and the racoons betrayed him. He has considered q!Bad a friend for a long time because he’s always on when Missa is on and is always there to help (though if you ask me I would argue the opposite). He tried finding a way to justify Bad’s behavior, even the stuff chat brings up until he can’t. So, he goes back home and prepares a letter to Phil.

Because he realizes after everything in his life, after continuously trusting and relying on the wrong people, he concludes he can only trust q!Phil.

Missa never really leaves letters. His thing has always been paintings and small gifts. But for the first time (in what might be a long time) he leaves Phil a letter. Now that he’s accepted this is his home, he sees it’s also a place people can use to hurt him, in this case q!Bad.

Notice how when q!Bad came back and said he was gonna prank q!Phil and left, q!Missa immediately ran in to check on the kids? His priority and his fear will always be losing his family. He has spent so much of his life pushing himself a way from them, he doesn’t want to lose them when they’re so so close.

But as always… Missa runs. He runs away and sleeps somewhere else for tonight.

In his defense, I will say that this time it’s different. He’s running to protect his family. Is it the best option? I don’t think so. Missa always has struggled with feeling like he isn’t enough. And in this case, his families lives could be in danger so he runs away, because it’s his fault and he isn’t enough to protect them.

I will say. Things have changed. Because this time around he warned Phil. These two have had SOOO many instances of miscommunication and not talking to one another and we finally have a moment in which Phil is hearing directly from Missa. Not some other character, not his kids, Missa.

And the last thing Missa said when he went to bed. He wasn’t sleeping on a bed, because the only bed he will ever sleep on is the one in his home. LIKE FUCK. Yes he ran, yes he left to protect his family. But that’s his home. That’s where he will ALWAYS return to for comfort and safety. It isn’t a forever. It’s just for now.

For the first time, Missa is certain he will always have a home to return to.

#sorry if this makes no sense #I love Missa cubito so much #I just had to spit this out #qsmp #marv rants #death family #qsmp missa #qsmp philza #deathduo

[ddarker-dreams]

Sore Loser.

Yan Alhaitham x Reader.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, manipulation and unbalanced power dynamics.  Word count: 1.1k.

“In case you somehow missed it while storming in here, I want to inform you that my work hours are posted outside my office. You should note that I’m not currently on the clock and am under no obligation to hold an audience with you.” 

You knew this would be no simple task. That’s why you’ve spent days — perhaps weeks, if you’re being totally honest — mentally preparing for this confrontation. Countless hours have been spent running mental simulations of this imperative moment. Still, despite your best efforts, you never achieved a breakthrough that’d navigate you through the obstacles lying ahead. Hence why you’ve been delaying this tête-à-tête no matter how much you recognize its needs to be resolved, and soon. 

Some might call it procrastination, or delaying the inevitable, but not you. You think of it as self-preservation. What small amount you have left to cling to, anyway. Today, that thin, already fraying self-preservation was pulled taut enough to snap. 

Which leads you here. The last place you want to be, paired with the very last person you want to see. 

Your gut tells you the feeling is far from mutual. Alhaitham’s expression might be schooled, betraying nothing that floats around in that sinister mind of his, but you’re certain he’s deriving some satisfaction from your disheveled appearance. It could be the nearly imperceptible quirk of his lips or how he went to such lengths to keep his words slow, as if savoring your attention. 

“Oh, trust me, I saw your little plaque.” 

“It comes as a relief to know you’re literate.” 

The creature seated before you cannot be a human being. There’s no way. You’ve dealt with some irritating men throughout your academic tenure — sometimes you wonder if the trait is an unspoken prerequisite to being accepted in higher education — yet none come close to this. The nonplussed air, that monotonous voice that is about as passionate as one reciting instructions from a manual. Oh, how it stokes a seething rage inside you that burns red hot. 

You slam your hands on his desk hard enough to jostle the various writing instruments and memorabilia. This little outburst earns a raised eyebrow, yet nothing else. It’s clear that the floor is yours. You’ll need to make every second count. 

“I know what you’ve been doing,” you whisper. Still nothing. No guilty body language that’d give himself away, his intense eye contact doesn’t even falter. Yours almost does. “Admittedly, I don’t know the specifics. I just think it’s interesting that ever since we broke things off, I’ve been receiving the cold shoulder from the academic world. An area you hold immense sway over.” 

He straightens out a pen that went askew from your previous action. “A quick correction: you used the incorrect pronoun.” 

“... Huh?” 

“You said ‘ever since we broke things off’ when the correct phrasing would be ‘ever since I broke things off.’ That was entirely your decision. I had no part in it.” 

It takes a few seconds for his words to register. What was once a steady yet contained flame ignites into a wildfire, seeking to smolder everything nearby into ashes. You can’t believe you saw something in him once. That you granted him a special residence in your heart, the door left unlocked so he wouldn’t need a key. In the wake of his forceful eviction, you’ve boarded up the windows and chained every potential entryway shut. There’s no fully surveying the damage left behind that you’ve been forced to clean up. 

Piece by piece, shard by shard. You knew picking up the jagged glass would hurt — you never could’ve fathomed how much it’d make you bleed. 

Unfortunately, he isn’t finished. While you mentally scramble to recollect your thoughts, he swoops in, talons sharp and ready to pierce your flesh. 

“Additionally, I don’t see why we’re having this conversation if, as you said yourself, you have no evidence to back your claims. This alleged abuse of power would be better discussed with the matra. I’d be cooperative with any investigation they open. In fact, why don’t we go visit them together—” 

“Stop it,” you cut him off, and surprisingly, he listens. “Is this— is this your way of tormenting me? Getting revenge? Does destroying what I’ve spent my entire life building satisfy your ego?” 

Alhaitham places his elbows on the desk, rests his chin on steepled fingers, and leans forward. You know that look. You were once intimately familiar with it. This is the posture he adopts when he’s studying. Analyzing every variable presented to him and unearthing what remains hidden. There is no secrecy beneath his scrutinizing gaze. Where some see a stubborn wall, he views a vast ocean of information, waiting to be absorbed by those who know how to find it. 

“You haven’t been sleeping well,” he notes. His voice is quieter. Almost tender, if such a word exists in his lexicon. You’re convinced it doesn’t. “Your foundation hides the worst of the eyebags, but I’m familiar with your normal complexion. The slightest change in pigmentation is enough to give you away.” 

You hug your arms close to your chest. “Who do you think is to blame for that?” 

“You wouldn’t like my answer.” 

His hand reaches for your wrist. You tense, your breath catching in your throat, yet you allow him to unfurl your protective stance. His skin is familiar. Warm, calloused from years of dutifully scribbling onto documents. You feel his eyes boring at and through you. Cataloging your every reaction, retrieving past memories to best advance his goals. 

He’s never quite as detached as you wished he would be. 

There’s an underlying fondness when he speaks your name, gentle as a soft breeze, and almost as indiscernible. 

“You must be at your wit’s end if you’re coming to me unprepared like this,” he sighs. The spell is broken, the hypnotist’s wristwatch frozen midair. You go to jerk your hand back, only for him to tighten his grip, not enough to hurt, but enough to effectively communicate his point. 

“I’ve always been partial to you, so I suppose a little overtime wouldn’t hurt just this once. I believe I have a solution for the predicament you’ve found yourself in. We could discuss it, if you’d like. How about over dinner? It’ll be my treat.” 

You did come here searching for a solution — though this is the last one you’d ever want. 

“... How much of this did you plan?” 

“I’m unsure what you mean,” his tongue might wax deceit, but his lips offer a glimmer of truth. They curl into a content smile. “I take it that’s a yes. Our usual spot, then?” 

It’s occurs to you that you were worried about the wrong thing all along. 

There was no point in fortifying your defenses after you ejected him from your heart; he never intended to undergo a forceful re-entry. 

No, according to his design, you’d be the one undoing each lock to meet him outside. 

#alhaitham x reader #yandere alhaitham x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #my stuff

[getawayfox]

My favorite reclist of the year! It’s the best excuse to reread beloved fics and shout about them again. I couldn’t wait any longer to post it, so, without further ado: here are my personal favorites from 2023 and why I love them, along with a banner I’m really pleased with. 

Thank you, sweet writers, for giving us your wonderful stories. Wishing everyone a happy December and an amazing and soft new year!

I Fall On Grass by @tackytigerfic Drarry, T, 3.1k

I adore stories with mature characters and this one is no exception. It’s so charming: gentle pining over the years, throughout the realities of life and parenthood, written with such a light hand. And lovely worldbuilding of a slow life that they built for themselves, which left me smiling the whole day after reading it. It feels like a soft caress for my soul.

It’s Me or the Peacock by harrows Drarry, T, 4.6

Do you ever feel like reading a fun, lighthearted fic that will have you grinning all day? Look no further, this is the one. Picture this: established Drarry taking the plunge to move in together, except Draco is bringing his “avian third wheel” with him, adding a feathered twist to the mix. Harry can’t quite believe what’s happening and that’s not even the half of it. This fic is a delight!

Sun Shower by @moonmanatee Drarry, T, 6k

Meet Orkie (short for Snorkel), the delightful cat who loves his boy Harry very much. They share a special bond, silently understanding not to delve into the origins of their pasts. What matters most is their companionship and the comforting routine they’ve woven together. Now, enter Draco Malfoy, a fashion icon with phenomenal outfits, his mud-loving dog, Hubert, and a dash of mouthwatering culinary creations. Your heart will grow three sizes by the time you’re done reading; mine certainly did.

Birds Behaving Badly by @peachpety Drarry, E, 10.5k

Oh, this fic!! I swear my whole body was wiggling with delight when I read it – it’s hilarious and hot and so witty. Draco has a type, which leads to a fun case of mistaken identity, all artfully resolved with the intervention of a conniving seagull, Kevin. Brace yourself for some sassy Slytherin banter, side characters so vividly portrayed they’ll steal your heart (Goyle, I’m looking at you), and the enchanting backdrop of a magical Brighton in the summer. Cue the squeals of delight! 

A Saviour’s Guide to Manners and Decorum by @wolfpants Drarry, E, 13k

I have read every fic Wolf has written this year and, let me tell you, choosing just one feels like an impossible task – I wish I could include them all. But here is my pick, and it’s not because it happened to be my birthday gift. This fic is a gem, seamlessly blending humor with a soft, wistful touch (oh, and do I need to mention it’s also incredibly hot?). It resonates because Harry just wants to be accepted for who he is, refusing to change for anyone (as he rightly shouldn't!). Enter Draco, who is here to help, and not to “fix him”. Sprinkle that with a subtle hint of D/s dynamics, a generous serving of UST, and a sensual shaving scene, and you have got the perfect fic. LOVE!

I only want the ones I envy (I envy) by @porcelainheart3 Drarry, E, 13.5k

This fic is so stunning! A coming-out story with writing so clean and sharp it made me laugh out loud through (lots of) inevitable tears. It has a very competent magical inventor Draco, who wears sock garters(!). It has Harry on a self-discovery journey that feels so very real; with a heart-wrenching childhood flashback that will leave you shattered. It has the most supportive friends. It has banter and flirting and so many wonderful details (look closely at the newspaper in the fic for an extra dose of laughter). And let's not forget the most incredibly emotional blow job; talk about smut with feelings! It’s one of those fics that made me read the rest of the author’s catalog immediately (and trust me, you should too!).

A Time, Dark and Divine by @moonflower-rose Established Drarry, Draco/Ron/Harry, E, 17k

Oh boy oh boy oh boy, this fic is so scorching hot. And their dynamic is so complex: jealousy and possessiveness wrapped up in a delicious package of a boys' trip in Thailand. A stunning Ron POV filled to the brim with complicated history and tension, incredible characterization for all three of them, culminating, inevitably, in hot-hot-hot sex. I couldn’t get this story out of my head for days. If you, like me, like feelings with your smut, this one’s for you! 

Waking Up Slow by @sweet-s0rr0w and @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm Drarry, E, 22k

This story is so charming and whimsical! First of all, this Draco is such an utter delight that I fell in love with him right away. He’s so entertaining! The concept of Christmas in July gives the story a wonderfully atmospheric and slightly wistful tone. Add to it a very domestic and playful dynamic between Draco and Harry, top-notch dialogue, so many creative details, and an absolutely delicious and intimate sex scene. From beginning to end, this fic is so warm and touching; a gentle romance that feels as if it was enchantingly sprinkled with a cheering charm.

the first in line by @oflights Drarry, E, 29.5k

This fic is hilarious, mischievous, and sexy all at the same time. And also a little bit unhinged in the best possible way. It had me in its grip from the very first sentence: “When the clock strikes midnight on his 25th birthday, Harry is having a threesome with a werewolf and a vampire.” (chef’s kiss!) and it didn’t let me go. We have a reluctant and grumpy Veela Harry, an over-the-top Draco, summer vacation vibes, a magical yacht, wooing with a hot air balloon (and more!), plus an absolutely delightful non-monogamous background Romione. Gah!!!

Of Magical Beings Being - Magic by @rockingrobin69 Drarry, E, 30k

What’s actually magic here is Robin’s writing. It’s… wait, I don’t think I have words for how rich and full this world is, how special! There’s pining and soft angst and an unreliable narrator and exes to lovers, but somehow all that doesn’t even begin to describe what this story is. It’s witty and fascinating and soft and playful. It’s about loving the other person so much that you do the wrong thing because you think that’s what they want, even though it hurts you. It’s about manifesting them in everything you do until they come back. It’s about Love, about Happiness. It knocked the breath out of me. It’s unbearably lovely.

Winner takes it all by @skeptiquewrites Drarry, E, 41k

This fic is absolutely devastating in a sort of gentle way. My heart broke a million times for this wonderful, hardworking, cornered Draco – who’s looking after his mum – as well as for a whole bunch of beautifully written side characters. The story starts with a bet, and from there, it unravels with Tee's razor-sharp writing, infused with nuance that makes the narrative incredibly rich and undeniably real. If you're in the mood for a cathartic cry, followed by a sweet, happy ending, don't walk – run to this fic!

#drarry #drarry rec list #fic recs #draco/harry #draco malfoy/harry potter #2023 favorites

[jungkookschin]

to restrain is to love (to err is to love part 2)

synopsis: yea, it was totally your fault for pouncing on your ex husband and shoving your tongue down his throat at your kids' super mario birthday party. (totally romantic!) but after establishing boundaries? despite feeling nauseous, jungkook has to show great deal of self restraint when he finds out that his ex wife is going on a date. word count: 13k

pairing: dilf!jk /ex husband!jk / ceo!jk x afab reader

warnings: mentions of divorce, death, and cheating

to err is to love masterlist

"So, you want me to pretend like it didn't happen?"

Your ex-husband finally arrives home- his disheveled nature indicative of an exhausting day at work probably filled with tedious meetings and unexciting paperwork. He looks like he got the soul sucked right out of his body. His tie is loose around his neck, his hair is swept back sloppily, dark circles prominent, and there's a very obvious annoyed grimace hazed on his handsome face. 

It’s not like you enjoy contributing to his stress, but right now you have to draw the red line and establish boundaries. You hate the way your heart flutters at his mere presence- even when stressed out of his mind. You rip your eyes away from him so the notion departs from your mind; acknowledging your thoughts means accepting- or even embracing your feelings for him, and that’s just something you can’t do. 

After practically pouncing on him and salaciously shoving your tongue into his mouth after your children's Super Mario birthday party, you abruptly jolted from your sleep with regret plaguing your system. Instinctively your fingers come up to alleviate the aching pain in your temples whilst you recall how sinful it felt to have his lips against yours. The butterflies threatening to erupt in your stomach irk you, and you despise yourself for craving him like you are right now.

Even when he’s blinking at you incredulously like you’ve cut him deeply- you can’t help but be soft for him. 

“Yes,” you enunciate sternly; the dramatic roll of your eyes effectively masks how you truly feel, and it makes his heart ache painfully. “It was entirely inappropriate, and I apologize for that- let’s just pretend it never happened.” You mumble pointedly before redirecting your focus back to the soapy bubbly plastic Hello-Kitty dishes piled in the sink.

You brace yourself for a response as hostile as the words you just spewed out. 

Perhaps he perceived the way your body visibly tense because instead of a sarcastic response, he acts opposite of what you’re expected. You hear the soft thud of his briefcase echoing through the room and as a gentle sigh falls from his lips. 

He makes calm strides toward you, placing a hand on top of yours; the soapy bubbles on your hands rub onto his- it even gets on the cuffs of his shirt, but it goes unnoticed by him.  He just wants to help out. His other hand takes hold of the sponge as his body softly nudges you to the side. He begins to maneuver the sponge against the dishes, not gracing you with a single word.

Heart aching in your chest, you let out a concerned sigh. "Jungkook, you don't have to do that, it's alright-"

"I'm sorry for coming home late tonight,” His soft words are spoken in a hushed tone, as if he’s trying to bring you down from how panicked and aggressive you were previously behaving. "Thank you for making the kids dinner and cleaning up."

"It's my job to do that-"

"I know. But you work so hard. I just want to let you know how grateful I am." His words encapsulate the tenderness that has been stagnantly stinging his heart- and it sends an explosion of emotions to your stomach. He’s got this hold on you, and you find it unfathomable that he can reillumine the dull flame idly sitting in your heart. 

"Are you mad at me?" you squeak out, fingers brushing a stray strand behind your ear. He releases a soft chuckle, putting the last dish in the drying rack, turning and leaning back against the kitchen counter. He shakes his head to sweep the hair out of his face.

“Not mad, just a little sad,” the casual shrug of his shoulders enkindles a bubble of confusion in your heart. 

Your mouth dries up. You haven’t a clue of how to respond-especially when the situation isn’t combative in the slightest. You suppose that you adapted entirely to toxicity and hostility that you’ve become emotionally dysfunctional. You hesitate, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I’m sorry,” is all you’re able to muster up.

He smiles bitterly to himself, his sharp jawline flexing as he looks away from you and at the ceiling. For a split second, you detect a hint of pain on his face, but he masks that by playfully pinching your cheek before swinging his hand back down- further adding to your confusion. “Don’t be sorry- you can’t change how you feel. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” 

Oh.

The response he gave you was exactly what your brain was looking for, but for some reason your heart is left completely dissatisfied. 

He suddenly begins undoing the buttons on his shirt, letting his chest finally breathe after being trapped in the confines of a tight suit all day. This wasn’t unusual for him to do. Jungkook often paraded around the house shirtless. After all, this is his home, and he is entitled to comfort and privacy. Besides, it’s not like you’ve never seen it before.  

Biting your lip, you swat his hands away and begin undoing the buttons for him. Though the action intrinsically seems questionable, you’ve basically been his little wifey when the two of you decided to cohabitate again (for the children). You wash his clothes, make him breakfast, tie his tie for him- the more you think about it the more dysfunctional this relationship is. No words were needed- this isn’t intended to be sexual or seductive in the slightest- your love language has always been acts of service and this is how you’ll express your appreciation.

He raises his brows at you. His eyes haze over you like he’s checking you out, but he’s really scrutinizing you and peering right past your facade. And perhaps he’s simultaneously checking you out. He can’t help himself- your smaller frame is adorned in one of his white oversized tees, making you look so soft and wifey. At the same time, he finds it somewhat ridiculous that you’re telling him you don’t want him while you have his damn shirt over your body.

Once you get to the bottom of the shirt, you pout slightly and look up at him. Your eyes are met with dark eyes that peer into your very soul. Black eyes scan over you, pupils are dilated completely, questioning authenticity of your rejection towards him. 

At the same time, he gazes at you with so much desire that it hurts.

 “Please tell me how you really feel,” he whispers.

You break eye contact, snapping the strings of attraction that were pulling you together. “Just don’t want to ruin everything again.” you quietly murmur

He brings his calloused palms to rub his face. He already knows. He sees right through you. He’s known you so long he’s confident he’s familiarized himself with everything about you- knows how your mind processes information, knows the meaning behind all your gestures.

What haunts him the most is that he knows he fucked up his own marriage. As the man of the family, he was supposed to hold everything down, and it’s been eating him up that he placed that burden on you.  “I know,” he responds, “It’s my fault- I know I fucked everything up beyond repair. I don’t blame you for feeling that way. The divorce was really hard.” 

It’s the first time he’s ever explicitly said the d word. He places his arms behind his head, his biceps bulging through his shirt, and you rip your eyes away. This is not the time to be thirsting over him.

“I wasn’t the best either- so don’t say that. The divorce was hard for you too so let’s not think about that,” you mumble, staring at the photo of your children stuck onto the fridge with a “#1 MOM” magnet. The cute photo of the twins holding up peace signs stabilizes you. They are what keeps you going.

He sighs. “But I know you gave it your all to save us- and I didn’t. I know that if I put in more effort, we would have made it. I was entitled and arrogant,” he bites his lip like he’s trying to find the right words, “Please let make it up to you.”

His analysis of the situation is somewhat accurate. Though the rockiest part of your marriage was mostly because of carelessness and hostility from both sides- Jungkook was the one who ultimately expelled you from his heart while you desperately towards clung onto hope.

“There’s nothing to be made up- we can’t do this again. Our kids would be heartbroken if mommy and daddy got back together….  just to break up again,” you send him a faux smile with the intention of comforting him, as if your fucking divorce didn’t absolutely crush you. Jungkook’s resolve begins to crack at your mannerisms. He sees right through you, knows when you’re faking shit.

“Is that how you really feel?” 

 A deafening silence washes over the situation. You won’t grace him with a response. No one would ever be able to pry the words out of you.

He speaks up. “I respect that Y/N, but if you ever change your mind, I’ll always be here.”

Your brows furrow deeply at this words, and Jungkook winces at the haze of mortification that appears on your pretty face. What did he mean by that? Is he implying that he’s going to stay single forever if you don’t want to be with him? That it’s you or nothing? What an impulsive and ridiculous statement. As much as you care for him, he can’t just be saying shit like that to you 

You purse your lips.  “I have a date next weekend-”

“What?” The harshness and rapidity of his response doesn’t faze you. During college he was especially possessive over you, his possessive nature never fading even after the divorce. You were still the mother of his children so the sense of protection he felt for you was practically implanted into his system.

“I have a date next weekend, so don’t say stuff like that. Don’t give up on love because we didn’t work out. We didn’t work out for a reason- we can both be better for who we were truly meant for,” you rub his bicep diplomatically, your lips curling up into a polite smile.  

Brushing your hand away, he responds with a look that teeters on the brink of mortification and disgust. “Who’s taking you on a date?” He’s doing that thing where he presses his tongue against his cheek- like you’ve just horribly offended him, and you simply frown. 

“Don’t worry about that- if it goes well then I’ll tell you more, but it’s just a first date,” Growing slightly irritated, you tut because he’s really doing too much at this point.  “I’m only telling you because I don’t want you to give up meeting other people.”

After tensing up he closes his eyes and sighs steadily, expelling the negative energy that accumulated in his chest.  “Okay fine- go on a date. Not my business anyways,” he mumbles lowly, and this pit of guilt expatiates in your chest.  

Before he walks off, your hand automatically latches onto his wrist. “Hey, can we talk about this? I hate it when we fight and I don’t want to upset you,” you plead, gnawing on your bottom lip in concern.

Jungkook softens, regaining rationality before his shoulders relax. “There’s nothing to talk about. It’s not your fault. You’re allowed to move on if you want to,” he reasons, attempting to give you a smile. 

Suddenly, the realization washes over you that Jeon Jungkook looks utterly exanimated. He’s paler than usual and he just looks so spiritless and dull. It saddens you deeply and your purse your lips. You hope it’s from work and not because of you.  “Sorry,” you whisper.

“It’s okay Y/N. Not your fault. We separated years ago- don’t worry about it,” 

Desisting, your lips utter no response. 

“Well Y/N, ‘m getting tired so gonna go to bed.” His voice stiffly trails off before he speaks again. “Can I get a hug?” 

You don’t even realize how pouty your lips become when you lean into his embrace, hugging him from the side. 

Gosh. Is this what we’ve come to?

A side hug?

You and this man used to be madly in love, unable to keep your hands off of each other- so passionate and so intense. It’s genuinely crazy that's left.

 A side hug.

–

When you stepped into work that morning, asking a man on a date was the last thing on your list. In fact, the notion never existed because you making the first move? Disgusting. Totally defeminizing. 

"Ew, is this what people like?" Your coworker Soyeon peeks over your shoulder, scrutinizing the monitor. She grimaces while she makes an ugh sound with her lips, eliciting a lighthearted giggle from you.

You currently work for a luxury cosmetics brand called Belle Meraviglie, as lead of the analytics team at the Korea headquarters. Basically, you’re in charge of data mining, transforming survey results into applicable suggestions for product development. There’s a lot of math and statistics involved, which occasionally makes you question why you’re in this field because you can’t do math for shit. 

Though your job sounds tedious, the average workday is filled with jovial playfulness thanks to your coworkers.

Right now, you're inspecting the results of a recent survey about optimal lip shades for each season. Surprisingly, this ugly ass peach shade popped up as the number one result for fall, which you (and Soyeon) are not fucking with. With one tap of the keyboard, the results are modified into a line graph, and you swivel your office chair around 180 degrees, facing Soyeon.

"Hey, if it brings us in more money then it's good to me," you joke, eliciting a playful eye roll from your friend. 

“Of course, it’s all about the money for you…” 

A lightbulb seemingly appears on top of her head, and she really starts to regurgitate her thoughts. "I really want a chocolate croissant right now," she expresses aloud, very unsubtly you may add, so you quickly become suspicious, narrowing your eyes at her. Giving you her classic puppy dog eyes, you give her a knowing look before relenting.

"Fine."

Perks of working for a luxury brand is that there's a Starbucks cafe on the second floor of the office. You have to admit that the chocolate croissants are to die for, hence why you're willing to walk all the way to the elevator and to the cafe to buy Soyeon one.

Unsurprisingly, the line at the cafe is pretty long, wrapping around the corner of the interior of the building. Chocolate croissants are delicious, and you love the way the buttery dough melts in your mouth, so you're more than willing to wait it out. Your arms are linked with Soyeon's so you won't be separated amongst the crowd of buzzing employees rushing to get their coffee or snacks.

Looking around, you really conceptualize the diversity of your workplace. People of all ages and colors flock around the lobby; you're noticing that there are a lot more young people around, probably college interns. 

Amongst your scrutiny of the people walking in and out, you gracelessly walk straight into a brick wall of a man, even despite Soyeon's efforts of driving you away from bumping into people.

The man turns around and you begin hastily apologizing. Soyeon follows your lead. "I'm sorry!" you urgently express, but when you straighten your body, you realize that the brick wall is a familiar face. 

"Y/N?"

"Seokjin?" you mimic his confused tone, the two of you blink at each other before you both burst out into laughter at your clumsy antics.

You give him a warm one-armed embrace, delicately brushing Soyeon off to the side. (uncannily similar to when you used to force your friends to follow your tracks, so you’d muster up the courage to talk to your middle school crush)

But in reality, this situation couldn’t be any more different.

 Seokjin is actually head of the marketing department- so a manager like you.  During monthly meetings, you go out of your way to ensure the seat beside you is vacant for Seokjin. Coughing excessively into your arm to ward off everyone else,  but then when Seokjin walks in, you’re magically healed!

When you were abysmally stumbling through the divorce with your ex-husband, Seokjin was a saving grace. Being a divorced father of two kids himself, he empathized with you whole heartedly, heroically taking responsibility for your work while you took the time to mentally recuperate.

"How have you been?" he exclaims, beaming at you. Seokjin is always bubbly and radiant at work,  something you found comfort in whenever you interacted with him.

"I've been really good! We actually got the report back on the survey for the new lip product..." you trail off, "The shade the stakeholders chose is really ugly," you whisper, making Seokjin lightheartedly chuckle.

"Well," he begins. "If it brings us money then that's all that matters!"

You dramatically gasp before playfully smacking him on the chest. "That's what I said too!" You join him in his contagious laughter; it's just so easy to get along with him.

After the laughter dies down, Seokjin wipes a fake tear from his eye. "So, how're the twins?" he inquires, and you beam at him.

"They're awesome. How are your boys?"

Seokjin has two boys, who are a lot older than your kids. His oldest Seokmin is 14 and his youngest Seokjoon should be 12 or 13 by now. Seokjin shoots you a comically petrified look before shaking his head and exhaling deeply.

"Seokmin is in high school," he dramatically enunciates, as if it's the scariest thing in the world. It really is, though. You're horror stricken but thrilled for your kids to get to that stage, but you'll handle it when the time comes. "He actually brought home a girl the other day- it scared the shit out of me and his brother," he jokes, making you smile at his silliness.

"Awe, don't say that," you coo, "So was she his girlfriend?" you inquire, to which Seokjin shakes his head.

"They're in the 'talking' stage, so not dating but they kind of are," Seokjin explains, before feigning faux shock to dramaticize the situation. "What the hell does that even mean? I told him that if he likes her he should just ask her out, but he said that no one does that and it'd make him look weird," he elaborates while he rolls his eyes and shakes his head, which just makes you laugh.

"I've never heard of that before. Maybe we're getting too old," you kiss your teeth, making a yikes sound.

Seokjin shakes his head. "Us? Old? Never that. My boys still can't beat me in a sparring match, so I'd say I'm young as ever."

This catches your attention, and you perk up a bit. "I forgot that your kids do Taekwondo!" you exclaim. "Did Seokjoong finally get his blackbelt?"

"He actually did last month! Hey- the offer still stands. If little Haru wants to start Taekwondo, I can get my boys to take him to class. He'll be in good hands," Seokjin suggests with a casual shrug.

You get soft at the thought of Haru in a Taekwondo uniform, kicking boards and doing flips, so you start to pout. "Thank you, Seokjin. I'll talk to Haru's father about it."

Seokjin purses his lips and nods. He hesitates momentarily, gnawing on his lip, appearing as if he is contemplating whether or not he should verbalize his thoughts. He's always been careful not to overstep boundaries. "If you ever want to talk about anything, I've been in your place and I get it. You can always text or call," he offers.

You blissfully sigh, nodding your head while you give him a knowing smile. "Thank you Seokjin, I might just have to take you up on your offer," your voice sounding shriveled  and exhausted.

"Well, I have to get back to work now. I'll see you guys later," he looks around and finally notices Soyeon, shooting his hand out while he introduces himself. "Seokjin, by the way."

She shakes his hand weakly, being well aware and slightly intimidated by her superior. "Soyeon. It's nice to meet you," she smiles at him and he returns the smile before making his way back to his office.

You and Soyeon waddle back into the office and settle down at your desks, chocolate croissants in both of your hands. Soyeon shoots you a conspicuous look. "That was... odd," she states, and the expression you give her can only be described as quizzical.

"What was?" you ask, taking a bite out of your croissant. "The barista?"

"No no, your interaction with Seokjin," she insists, rolling her office chair over to yours so that no eavesdroppers would catch heed to the conversation.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you guys fucking?!” she whisper shouts, her facial expressions screaming urgency and incrimination. She’s staring at you as if she just caught you in the act, but you respond with a mortifying glare. 

You clasp your palm over her mouth. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

You feel the sensation of her tongue licking your hand, and you jerk your hand away.

“I have never seen you act like that before,” she points out while she gives you a snobby look, eyeing you up and down.

You roll your eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you bark back, particularly unamused.

“Like a high schooler talking to their crush?!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you hiss, petrified that your interaction with him could be perceived that way.

“Bitch, don’t try me! You were fucking giggling; I have never seen you do that,” she crosses her arms at you and gives you another accusatory look.

“Oh wow now I can’t smile? Or be happy?” you muse, forcing Soyeon to deepen her scowl while she looks at you particularly unimpressed.

“Well, there is literally vacant dick for you right in front of you, but if you want to ignore it then there’s nothing I can do about it," she continues.

One of your palms comes up to smack your own face. “Someone’s gonna report us to HR,” you grumble, making Soyeon bite back laughter.

“Are you just gonna stay single for the rest of your life?” she then asserts, and the question has you melting into a puddle of realization. The only person you’ve seriously dated is- well, your ex-husband. Since you had your kids so young you’ve centered your entire life around your kids and work, the thought of another man has never even crossed your man.

After the divorce you came to peace with the idea that love just wasn’t for you, but you suppose that doesn't have to necessarily be the case, so you begin to welcome some of Soyeon's crazy ideas.

“I don’t know,” you meekly respond, “Right now I’m solely focused on my kids, so I haven’t thought about it.”

“Well their father has women constantly flocking around him, so you have every right to as well,” she insists.

“Okay but it’s not like he reciprocates their feelings-”

Soyeon raises a brow at you and you acquiesce. “Yea,” you agree, shrugging. "But it's not going to be Seokjin- he doesn't like me like that."

"Dude. He didn't even notice I was there until he was walking away," Soyeon deadpans at you and you laugh, deliberately not saying anything because you don't want to admit that she has a point.

"Plus," she muses, "I can make the case that Seokjin is the hottest guy in this entire building," she chimes in a sing song voice. 

You respond with a mirthless look. She knows damn well that there is no competition about 'hottest guy in the building' because all the men here are either super old, or college interns.

"There isn't that much competition."

"So you agree?" she teases, and her inquiry sucks you in to a whirlpool of quandary. 

Out of all the men at work, Seokjin is the most attractive here- now that you think about it, he is pretty cute. Probably on the more attractive side of all the men you've seen in your life. Maybe you should try to ignite a flame between you and Seokjin. Thanks to the sensation of adrenaline rushing through your veins, you become quite impulsive and bold.

"Shall I try to seduce him?"

"Yes!" Soyeon squeals. "Please! I'm tired of seeing you depressed all the time. Please get back into the game," she pleads.

You suppose that Soyeon must possess some supernatural hypnotic ability, because you find yourself doing something atypical to your normal behavior.

Knocking on the door of Seokjin’s private office, you take a measly step once you hear “Come in!” bounce on the walls.

“Y/N!” he greets happily, directing his attention from his giant computer monitor to a cumbersome you, fidgeting awkwardly in place. “What’s up? Do you have the report for the monthly meeting?” he asks, gracing you with his typical Seokjin smile.

“Oh- um- sorry, I actually don’t,” you say, clenching your teeth from the anxiety rushing through your veins. “I actually came to ask you- well I actually wanted to ask-“

Seokjin pays no heed to your stuttering or the way you wriggle around in his office, just clasps his palms together while he gazes at you fondly. 

“Do you maybe want to get dinner with me? Next weekend?”

His face immediately falls and you wince, instantaneously regretting even stepping inside his office. On Seokjin’s end, his expression actually reflects pleasant surprise, but you don’t know that.

A moment passes where the two of you blink at each other before his hands grasp a stack of papers, straightening the stack against the table.

He clears his throat.

“Like a date?”

Your cheeks blush crimson and you shyly avert your eyes downward, tucking a stray piece of strand behind your ear. At this point, there’s no going back now. Your impulsivity has gotten the best of you. You look up, gnawing on the plump of your bottom lip. “Yea,” you release. “Like a date.”

The shy smile that spreads on Seokjin’s face mirrors the goofy smile on yours. Anyone viewing this situation from the third person would assume you've never spoken to a man before; your cherry red cheeks indicative as much. 

His eyes finally meet yours, and you can’t help but think that he looks  cool. Seokjin tends to emanate approachability. He’s the cool boss- the guy every employee can confide in.

Not now though. You’ve penetrated a barrier no one else in the office has and unlocked the cool and suave Seokjin.

His large hand combs through his hair, revealing a peek of his forehead. He looks so handsome and quite honestly it’s making you giddy. “Yea Y/N, I would love to.”

“Oh- um- that’s great!” you say before you shrivel up in embarrassment. “Just text me and we can arrange a time,” you squeak out before shyly waving and taking a step back towards the door. He raises his eyebrows amusedly before waving back at you, and you return the wave that he returned to your wave, shutting the door ever so slightly. 

“Ah shit. She’s cute.”

-

You wake from bed with a splitting headache. The preceding day just happened to me the most eventful day for your love life since your wedding. Last night, your talk with Jungkook had all sorts of emotions and colors bursting and bubbling in your chest. However, no matter how drawn you are to him, no matter how weird you feel about him, it’s over, and you had to firmly establish those boundaries. 

Any lingering resentment toward Jungkook proceeding the divorce had long vanished- for the sake of your children and for the sake of your inner peace. Honestly, you were fed up with how salty and miserable you always were. You realized it was unproductive was to dwell on the aches and failures of your marriage; you found it in your heart to genuinely forgive him just like how he forgave you. 

After that, your co-parenting relationship flourished, but now it seems like everything is coming full circle again. He explicitly told you that he wants you.

But you can’t let it happen. It didn’t work out before, and it won’t work out if you try again. 

Life has blessed you with another capable, intelligent, and handsome man, and you can’t let yourself blow it because of your complicated feelings for your ex-husband. You like Seokjin. Seokjin is handsome, you click with him, and he makes you feel safe and comfortable. 

Your time spent with Seokjin is reminiscential of a dulcet hot spring. You find comfort in the way your skin absorbs his warm steam emanating from the water. You find comfort in the way he makes you feel normal and validated, the way he accepts you as yourself. Your relationship that had been a cordial friendship for so long has the potential to blossom into so much more. 

Jungkook on the other hand, is a tsunami whose waves violently crash down on the little control you have over your rationality. When you were a teenager, he washed into your otherwise peaceful world and aroused this sense of infatuation in your being, evoking your reckless behavior.

Holding his hand in a skintight bikini while he coaxed you into sneaking into one of his father’s hotel pools. Standing arms open outside your house waiting to catch you while you jumped from your window- my goodness you even had twins with this man!

Had you been a little younger, you would have chosen the exhilaration of infatuation over the sensibility of comfort. Now that you are a mother, you have the lives of two other people to consider. You ought to prioritize the viability of any potential relationship over anything else. 

With the plethora of thoughts banging against the interior of your brain, you fail to notice your son crawling into the bed.

“Hi mom,” It’s like the he popped out of nowhere, kneeling on the comforter in front of you. 

“Oh, hi baby,” you respond, pulling him into your arms and into your lap. 

“Dad said you’re going on a date, is that true?” he innocently inquires, large doe eyes blinking at you dumbfoundedly.

You kiss your teeth. No way he told your kids that. “He told you?” 

“He said that you’re going on a date next weekend, so Heeseung and Jake might have to come babysit,“ your son innocently explains, casually playing with the strands of your hair. 

You soften impossibly when he places the strand of hair above his lip, puckering his lips to use it as a fake mustache. You giggle and press a soft kiss to his forehead. He quickly wipes the saliva off with the back off his hand with the fiercest glare he can conjure.

You simply giggle in response. “Are you mad at mommy for going on a date?”

Haru shrugs. “Not really, but sometimes I wish you and dad were still together,” The casualness of his response halts the gears in your heart, and your heart drops. Sometimes you feel like you’ve failed as a mother for not being able to keep your family completely intact. Coparenting is sufficient, but you’ve always had insecurities about not giving them the full family experience.

Haru fails to notice and continues talking. “But I’m still happy you and dad are best friends. Who are you going on a date with anyway?”

You’re glad it doesn’t seem to bother him and you boop his nose with your pointer finger. “Do you remember Seokmin? The older boy who taught you how to break a board at mommy’s work picnic?”

His eyes instantly sparkle at that, and he eagerly nods his head  like a golden retriever pup.

“Well, mommy asked his dad out on a date.”

“So does that mean if it goes well I can play with Seokmin more?” His fixation on Seokjin’s son leads you to realize that he probably doesn’t even care about your romantic life- Roblox and hanging out with older cool kids are all he needs to make his little heart happy. 

“If your dad’s okay with that, then of course you can.”

On cue, Jungkook busts into the room, daughter on his hip and granola bar in the other hand. Your daughter’s such a little princess, always loving being carried in her father’s arms even though she’s been walking for years.

Wearing an oversized black tee and gray sweat shorts, Jungkook raises a brow at you. “Oh, so you’re making the first move now?”

You ignore him, grabbing your son’s chubby cheeks before peppering sloppy and dramatic mwahs all over his face. Jungkook’s eyes subtly role at your unbecoming habit of using your kids as a mechanism of brushing him off.

“Haru, Hina, you can have iPad time for thirty minutes- mommy and daddy need to talk,” Jungkook voices sternly, and you shoot him a dumbfounded look, locking your arms around your son. 

“Why? I want my babies here,” you complain, and Jungkook sends you a look so sinisterly serious that you zip your lips.

Once the kids scatter from the room, he settles on top of your comforter. He collects his thoughts before he speaks. “So?” he sends you an accusatory look and you mime his expression.

“So?” 

“Since when did you start making the first move?”

“Oh my fucking- that’s what you wanted to ask me?”

He crosses his arms and narrows his eyes at you. “Why are you being so secretive?”  

You roll your eyes. He’s acting like a child right now. You push off the comforters to walk away until his hand latches onto your wrist. “Sit down,” he breathes out lowly and you frustratedly yank your arm away from him, but acquiesce nonetheless.

“So who’s the guy? I think I deserve to know if he’s met my kids,” Jungkook inquires a bit bitterly and you purse your lips into a thin line to express your distaste. 

You relent because the man has a point. You can’t bring your kids around your work colleagues and not supply the details when requested. “Just someone from work, the kids met him at a work picnic a long time ago and Haru really liked his son.”

He projects his next question at you with lightning speed. “How old’s his kid?”

“Probably like 14 or 15 right now, and he has another that’s like 12-”

“The fuck? Are you looking for a sugar daddy?”

Your ears must have deceived you because you can’t comprehend the audacity of this man, and you can’t help but gawk at his shamelessness. 

“Is he rich or something? I just have no fucking clue why you would ask some old dude out on a date. You know I’ll buy you whatever you want-”

Now you’re irritated. Scoffing, you scoot away to distance yourself from him because you can’t stand being in his presence.

“I know you’re not talking. He was around the same age we were when we had the twins,” you reason. As logically as that statement was, it has an inverse effect, fanning the flames of his irrationality. 

“So this guy’s just looking to hookup,” he seethes, leaving you dumbfounded because Jungkook honestly had no right to be spewing this bullshit. What did he mean by that? Is that what Jungkook was looking to do? Hook up? The thought of him with another woman leaves you sick. 

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief at his hypocrisy. There was no reasoning with him at this point. You know how he gets when he’s all riled up; the best thing to do is to disengage. “You don’t know how insulting you’re being,” you release shakily. 

“And you don’t know how bad you’re hurting me,” he bites back. 

Saying nothing, you get up and walk steadily towards the door, closing it ever so gently. 

“Whatever. Do what you want.”

-

When you return home from work, you spot Haru dozing off on the couch, head resting on the arm of the sofa, already tucked under his Paw Patrol blanket. Hina’s resting her head on her father’s abdomen, her soft snoring mirroring her twin brother’s.  Jungkook’s plopped down on the sofa, eyebrows furrowed vexedly while he glares at Sanrio Cartoon playing on the screen. What did Hello Kitty ever do to him? But as angry as he may be, he’s stroking his daughter’s hair with the utmost gentleness. 

The sound of your footsteps makes Jungkook whip his head in your direction. He gently lifts his daughter up from his body and lays her on the couch, draping another vacant blanket over her small body. 

With soft steps, he mouths the words “We need to talk”  while pointing up at the second story. Sighing, you relent and follow his lead up the stairs and into his bedroom.

The door closes softly, and he faces you. You lock gazes, refusing to look away so he knows that you won’t be tolerating any bullshit this time. After a brief moment of just staring at each other, he exhales sharply. “I’m sorry.” 

You owlishly  blink at him and he continues. “I acted like an asshole, and I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way. After you walked out of the room, I felt so disappointed with myself- like I was still the same guy I was when we got divorced- I’m just so sorry and you didn’t deserve to be spoken to like that,” his words are flowing out and when he finishes, he nervously anticipates your response. 

Emotions swelling in your chest. You nearly look pained and Jungkook is scared that he may have hurt you even more. Instead, you tip toe to wrap your arms around his neck. Jungkook melts into your embrace immediately, arms around your waist while he holds you close to his body. 

“I accept your apology,” you whisper into his neck, releasing your embrace. “I was thinking about it today, and I was kinda-sorta thinking that you might have thought that I was trying to replace you or something, so I was going to apologize first,” you explain hesitantly, and Jungkook’s lips churn into a slight smile. 

“I didn’t think that,” his hands are still on your waist and he’s peering lovingly at you. “You wouldn’t do that to me, but it did make me feel a little... threatened,” he explains. 

“I’m sorry I made you feel like that. You’ll always be the father of my kids and my best friend,” you reply with a smile, and he releases a lighthearted laugh.

“But really, I said a lot of things I didn’t mean. I’m sorry for that… and I-I just wanted to let you know that I’ve never thought about hooking up with anybody. That’s not what I meant when I said what I said” he reasons nervously.

You shrug. “It’s not like it matters anyways. You’re free to do what you want. Just keep your kids in mind if you decide to be... Impetuous.” 

Your reaction disappoints Jungkook, his shoulders slumping and all he can do is let out a forlorn sigh. “You really like this guy?”  He suddenly asks, his tattooed hand brushing defeatedly through his hair. 

The question is unexpected, and it somewhat surprises you. You waver, tapping your pointer on your chin while you conjure an appropriate response. “I don’t know. That’s why we’re going on a date.”

He kisses his teeth. “Is he a good guy?”

You hum and step back, plopping on the bed. “Yea,” you bite your lips. “He is,” you conclude while nodding your head.

“He treats you nicely?” Jungkook adds, carefully speculating your gesticulations. 

You smile to yourself. Jungkook furrows his eyebrows at that. “He always takes care of me at work. He’s really been a great help. I mean that.”

Jungkook scrutinizes you intensely, and when he perceives the genuineness behind your words he nods bitterly. “Okay,” he sighs. “If you think he can make you happy then I’m happy too,” he offers you a faux smile, and you avert your eyes so you aren’t confronted with the sad twinkle in his pupils. 

-

You know for a fact Haru gets his athleticism from his father, because you don’ t have a single athletic bone in your body. Jungkook has always been eager to enroll his kids into sports. When they were three he suggested putting them into swim classes, but the idea was actually vetoed by his mother, who insisted that three was way too early. 

Personally, you were indifferent- it’s not like sports were going to make or break your kids’ future. Of course, being active would be beneficial, but they also didn’t have to start that early.  Anyways, you can imagine Jungkook’s enthusiasm when his son asked him if he could start playing soccer. 

Now, going to Haru’s Saturday soccer games are encrypted in your family’s weekend routine. 

Saturday morning routines have become familiar. You dress Hina up in one of her prettiest summer dresses before drowning her in sunscreen. One of Jungkook’s friends helps Haru get ready while Jungkook loads the lawn chairs and ice coolers into the Mercedes. Sometimes it’s Taehyung or Jimin. When it’s Namjoon, his wife and daughter tag along- the presence of his cute little girl always being a sweet treat. However, today it’s just the four of you.

Lathering your daughter in sunscreen, you place her mini sunglasses on her face while Jungkook gazes at his girls with awe. 

“Really girls? We’re only going to be outside for like two hours, do you really need to do all that?” Jungkook coos, and you roll your eyes. 

“Tell your father he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Daddy, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hina sasses her father, and Jungkook scoffs before scooping his daughter up and tossing her up into the air. He catches her and throws her up again, her squeals and giggles filling the morning air. 

Haru steps out of the door, clad in his soccer uniform, cleats laced up, and socks rolled properly. Putting Hina down, he approaches his son. 

“You ready to score a goal today?” Jungkook asks his son, kneeling down to his height. 

Haru jumps in excitement. “Duh! And you promise you’ll buy me and Hina ice cream if I score a goal?” Haru questions, and his dad immediately agrees. 

“Of course. I’ll get the two of you whatever you want, doesn’t have to be ice cream.”

Haru shrugs. Suddenly Jungkook’s awards don’t seem as appealing to him. “You can just ask Squidy for whatever she wants- I don’t really care.” 

Your son’s gotten to that age where he loves acting tough and chivalrous, taking care of his twin sister and being the little man of the family. He’s even adopted the name Squidy for Hina, which makes you and Jungkook eye each other humorously at the cute nickname. 

“Did you hear that Squidy? You have to cheer for me so dad can get us something, okay?” 

Your son’s valiant effort of being sweet fails, because Hina sasses her brother like she does with her dad. “Whatever,  if I see cute boys then I’m going to cheer for them-”

“Whoa whoa,” Jungkook intervenes, immediately deciding that conversation is over. He scoops his daughter up and places her in her car seat before shutting the door. He looks at you with urgency in his eyes and you laugh. 

“She’s boy crazy just like her mom, huh?” Jungkook teases, and you roll your eyes before slapping his bicep. 

-

Upon arriving at the field, you absorb the Saturday morning atmosphere. The crisp blue sky, the nostalgic scent of grass that fills your nose, your children prancing around the parking lot, and your ex-husband who carries the ice cooler on his shoulder as if it’s nothing. Your family walks ahead of you, but you stay in place simply observing them.

A few seconds later, Jungkook whips his head around, searching for you when he doesn’t sense your presence. Feet planted into the cement, he looks at you with concern. “What are you doing? We don’t want to get separated,” he calls out.

Suddenly, it strikes you that you hold an irreplaceable place in this family. You created your two babies; you gave them life. Two beautiful kids, a handsome father, and then there was just you. Sometimes you felt so average you had no clue what you did to deserve this. You can’t believe this is your reality and your heart soars. 

You jog up and catch up to him, slowing down when you’re secure by his side. He laughs, admiring how cute you are. “So ditzy, Y/N.”

You shrug. “Was just thinking that I’m lucky to have you guys.”

Jungkook’s eyes gaze at you, the softest expression on his face. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t know- jus guess I was feeling a little overwhelmed seeing you guys all cute and domestic like this. I’m really happy I have you as my family,” you smile at him, your fingers wandering towards his to give his palm a gentle squeeze. 

Jungkook melts at the action, gingerly bringing your knuckles to his lips to place a delicate kiss on the top of your hand. “I’m happy I have you as my family too.”

Family. The word settles heavily in his system.

Along with his two kids, you were one of his most precious treasures. He cherishes you deeply, would drop everything in hand if you’d simply ask. If family was all he could do, then just looking at you like this would suffice. He loves you, is okay with loving you only as the mother of his children if he couldn’t love you as his wife. 

Loves you so he wants you to be happy; needs to let you spread your wings and find your own happiness. Exhaling a shaky breath, he drops your hand and places his vacant arm around your shoulder. “Let’s go, yea?”

-

On the sideline of the field, you and a few other moms on the team congregate around each other and start making small talk. 

All the moms are significantly older than you, but they still welcome you and treat you as one of their own. They invite you to group brunch dates, playdates, and sometimes drop off home-cooked meals at your door. The group chat always shares resources with each other, like old toys or community events at the park.

After laughing at some cheesy joke, you say your goodbyes and walk back to Jungkook and Hina. 

When you return, Jungkook smirks a little at you. “That was cute,” he comments.

“What was?” you question innocently

“You’re a cute little soccer mom now,” he grins at you and you laugh. 

“Well, I am, I guess.”

“You have a cute little soccer mom group. That’s so fucking cute, Y/N.”

Jungkook sets up the umbrella for you, planting it into the ground while you relax on the lawn chair. Your daughter’s on your lap, and you’re both calmly observing the soccer game, matching sunglasses on as well.

“Do my princesses need anything else?” Jungkook inquires sarcastically. You giggle, pressing your hand to his cheek while your thumb smoothes over the coarse skin of his cheek. 

He removes your hand from his cheek and shoots you a playful glare. 

“Mommy! Haru’s going to score a goal!” The declaration of your daughter has you and Jungkook whipping your head towards the goal post, and sure enough, Haru is pelting the ball into the goal post.

You and Jungkook immediately shoot up, cheering and celebrating. Jungkook grabs your daughter and throws her into the air before catching her. Out of pure ecstasy, Jungkook grabs you by the waist and squeezes you, holding you up whilst he embraces you tightly.

“Hey! What about me?” You hear Hina’s voice and Jungkook chuckles, putting you down and enveloping his daughter into his arms. 

This is what happiness must be.

-

Having to act like this doesn’t bother him is requiring a great deal of self-restraint. 

You stand in front of your bathroom mirror, carefully twirling your hair around the barrel of your curling iron. Your bangs are in a roller that sits on the top of your head, and you’re humming along to the music that echoes from your phone speaker. 

Once you’re satisfied with your hair, you move to the makeup. You apply rosy blush on the high points of your cheeks before your  shirtless ex-husband enters and leans against the doorway. Hands shoved into the pockets of his gray sweat shorts, he observes your meticulous self care routine.

You see him through the mirror, and you have to stop yourself from taking a second look. Thighs are on display, abs are on display, muscles are on display, him just being there is short circuiting your brain. 

“You look good,” he casually inserts, leaning against the door and crossing his arms. 

“Oh, um thanks,” you respond, unable to conjure an appropriate response. 

He stands there, scrutinizing you through the mirror. His eyes narrow at you every time you bring the makeup to your face, It’s killing him. He’s really trying to be mature to hold things down at home while you’re out, but you look so beautiful without makeup- and he doesn’t get why you’re trying to make yourself prettier and for another man at that. 

His lips twitch into a bitter smile. 

“He’s a lucky guy, if you’re doing this all for him.”

You don’t say anything but this immense pit of guilt swells in your stomach. You set your brush down and inhale deeply, while Jungkook strolls to your closet and starters going through your dresses hung on the clothing rack. 

“Which one are you planning on wearing?”

“Huh?” you swivel around to his direction and shake your head. “I’m wearing a blouse and dress pants; I already laid it out on the bed.”

“You wore a dress on our first date,” he adds.

“That’s when I was young and wanted to seduce men with my sex appeal.”

“Well it worked,” Jungkook licks his lips, recalling the tight red dress you wore on your first date back in college. My goodness were you a sight to see, all dressed up for him- so gorgeous it made him dizzy. You were so shy- could barely look him in the eye, and it spurred Jungkook on with the desire to corrupt you.

“And look where we are now,” you conclude coldly, pulling Jungkook from his little euphoric fantasy. At that, he frowns. You didn’t really have to say that. You did a great job of stripping all and any sense of hope from him. 

Jungkook opens his mouth to retort. “Doesn’t have to be like that. I can take you and the kids out instead if you cancel.”

Before you can reply, you both become distracted by the alarming sounds of his two kids screaming at each other. He closes his eyes and releases a sharp exhale, giving you one last look before going down the stairs to take care of his children.

A few minutes later, you join them down the stairs, red blouse and beige dress pants adorned on your figure. Quite frankly, you almost look like you’re going to a work meeting, but just with a tad more style. You pick up some of your kids’ toys and throw it into the basket and join Jungkook at the dining table with your kids.

“Mom, if the date goes well can I play more with Seokmin?” Haru asks.

You direct your attention to Jungkook, who simply sighs. “I’ll have to meet his father first, okay?”

And on cue, the doorbell rings. You shoot up, and Jungkook peers at you like your enthusiasm is thoroughly messing with his brain. 

You scurry over to the front door, opening it to see your Prince Charming waiting for you. There stands Seokjin, looking as classy and handsome as ever. You suppose he’s opted for something casual as opposed to his usual suit and tie at work- the black button up and jeans indicative of that. His hair slick back very prince like, his glorious forehead showing. A beautiful bouquet of flowers is in his hand. “Hey Y/N,”

“You didn’t have to bring me flowers,” you pout before accepting the bouquet and tiptoeing to hug him. 

He waves the notion away. “I always tell my son to bring flowers on the first date, so I have to live up to my word or he’ll call his dad a hypocrite.”

Haru runs up to him and Seokjin squats to his level before giving your son a high five. “Where’s Seokmin?” Haru asks and you swat the back of his head. 

“Haru, say hi to Mr. Seokjin first. That’s rude," you berate.

He blows out an annoyed sigh and juts out his hand. “Hi Mr. Seokjin. Thank you for taking my mommy out on a date. She’s very lonely and single." This kid does a great job at making you roll your eyes.

Seokjin laughs and shakes your kid’s hand. “Seokmin’s at home taking care of his little brother, Haru,” He explains while he views your ex-husband from his peripheral, who is approaching with your daughter on his hip “And I’m not so sure that’s true, she doesn’t seem to be very lonely.”

He stands up and shakes Jungkook’s hands with a firm grasp. 

“Nice to meet you. Jungkook.” Jungkook says, his voice distinguished with the husky tone he only uses as a work meetings. 

“Seokjin. Nice to meet you too,” Seokjin responds, also with his work voice. Jungkook puts up Hina’s little hand for Seokjin to shake and Seokjin shakes her tiny little hand. “Hi Hina,”

“Hi Mr. Seokjin, please take care of my mommy tonight,” Hina says sweetly, and you melt.

“Of course, Hina. She’s in good hands with me, and he offers your daughter a comforting smile.

You turn quickly and place your flowers into a vacant vase, kneeling down to your kids’ level. Ruffling their hair, you place a kiss on each of their cheeks. “Okay kiddies, mommy’s going to get going now, okay?” 

Both of your children give you a hug. “Bye mom!” your kids chime before rushing back to their iPads. 

Rising to your usual height, the discomfort of the situation washes over you. You’re becoming extremely uncomfortable, standing in between your ex-husband and your date. Wiping the sweat off your palms onto the front of your pants, you tuck a strand of hair behind your hair. “See you Jungkook. Call me if something happens,” you say after clearing your throat.

He looks at you blankly, with no particular look in his eyes, the ambiguousness of his expression eats at your skin. “Okay. Have fun.”

At this point, Jungkook should have walked away, but he stands firm simply staring at you. You fidget uncomfortably in place before scurrying over to the door and opening it.

Before you can step out, Jungkook places a hand on Seokjin’s shoulder and clears his throat. When Seokjin turns to face him, Jungkook stares blankly at the older man before sticking his hand out. 

“Hey, thanks for taking care of my wife at work. Really appreciate it man- ex-wife, I mean.”

Seokjin narrows his eyes at the man at the odd remark. Seokjin’s eyes scan over Jungkook’s frame, detecting his apprehension. Jungkook doesn’t look away from the guy, blankly staring at him until a response is given. 

Seokjin grips Jungkook’s hand very firmly. “Of course.”

And though the interaction seems very amicable, you don’t miss the way both of the men’s knuckles nearly turn white. 

-

What was supposed to be a cute and romantic first date turned into you and Seokjin urgently speeding down the freeway.

It started when Seokjin excused himself to check his phone and his face immediately dropped.

“What’s wrong?”

“My son says he’s at a party, and that the party got busted because kids were drinking,” Seokjin explains disjointedly, appearing and sounding very stressed. He brushes a hand through his hair and you can’t help but pout. 

“Oh my gosh, where do these high school kids even get alcohol from?” You step closer to him, peering over his shoulder to read the text. One of your hand rubs his biceps comfortingly because sure enough, the text reads

“dad, please don’t kill me but im at a party and the guy that was driving us started drinking and im scared.”

His son Seokmin sends his location, and when you take heed of the zip code, you gasp. “He’s two hours away? How’d he even get there?” 

Seokjin releases a dejected groan, jaw clenching at his son’s disobedience. Now he has to go clean up after his son’s shit. Great.  

Sighing, he places a hand on his hip. “I’m sorry Y/N, I’m going to have to get him. Do you think we can reschedule for another time?” He looks at you with guilt painted all over his face and you quickly shake your head at the notion. 

“Don’t apologize for that, please. Let me go with you and you can take the HOV lane to get their faster,” you suggest, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders. 

“You don’t have to do that. Your kids will miss you.”

“They’ll survive without me. You’re always there for me, so please accept my offer.”

Seokjin purses his lips then acquiesce. Nodding, he smiles at you. “Thank you so much. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“This is you making it up to me,” you giggle, “It’ll be fun. I can tell you about all the office drama.” 

-

Seokjin’s a very conscientious driver. His pupils fixate on the road, his foot ever so slightly presses on the brakes so you don’t jerk forward like you do with Soyeon. It doesn’t surprise you- carefully observing traffic laws is very characteristic of Seokjin and contributes to his lovely demeanor. 

The car ride is long, but conversations with Seokjin make time hasten.

“What?” Seokjin muses, hand banging on the driver’s wheel. “Jaehyung and Jungmin had an affair?”

You eagerly nod your head. “Yes they did! You can imagine my discomfort when I walked in on them in. In the printing room, at that! I gave them an ultimatum to fess up or I’d tell their partners,” you elaborate. 

“Huh,” Seokjin thinks aloud. “I thought it was coincidental that they were getting a divorce at the same time... But that’s a really great thing you did, Y/N. You know my ex-wife cheated on me too.”

Your eyebrows furrow at the confession. “ I’m sorry. Some people can be so horrible.”

“It’s okay,” Seokjin dismisses the thought, laughing it off. “She’s dead now so it doesn’t matter.”

At that bomb drop, your actions falter. “Oh my gosh, Seokjin. I had no idea she passed away. I’m so sorry.”

Once again Seokjin laughs it off. “It’s alright Y/N. I use humor to cope so it doesn’t bother me as much. I do feel horrible for my boys, though. It’s a lot to deal with but I’m trying my best as a single dad,” a reluctant sigh leaves his lips, and your heart immediately drops. 

“You can talk about it, if you want,” you offer, “we do have a lot of time.”

Seokjin makes a pshh sound of reluctance with his lips. “I mean, I don’t want to trauma dump on you, but if you want to hear the tea then I can spill.”

You giggle at his usage of the word tea. Why is he using the lingo of a teenage girl? He takes your laughing as a yes and continues to speak while he drives.

“Well, she cheated on me about five years ago with one of her work colleagues, and subsequently we got divorced,” he explains with a shrug, “I don’t regret it. I mean, I was heartbroken- I couldn’t even stand being in her vicinity.”

“I would have done the same. That’s completely on her, not you.” you expressively claim, becoming fixated on his words. 

“That’s what I thought too, but then the kids had  to do the whole one week with me, one week with her things, and I wondered  if I should have just sucked it up to keep the family together,” he explains, looking as forlorn as ever.

The notion pains you; you understand where he’s coming from. Sometimes you don’t know if you can handle being in your ex-partner’s  vicinity, especially considering the pain this partner may have inflicted. Nonetheless, handling the situation with emotional suppression and maturity is the only option for the sake of your children.

“Somehow the kids found out what she did, and it didn’t sit well with them,” he continues, eyebrows furrowing at the painful memory. 

You have your own opinion on the matter, but it isn’t about you right now. Of course it didn’t sit well with them. You’ve been in that exact situation- the memory of your father with some woman is still vivid and it makes you nauseous to this day. Betraying your mother meant betraying you and your siblings. The pain and guilt  you felt for your mother was indescribable. You were never able to forgive him for that.

“From then on, there was always a degree of resentment between her and the kids- and it never really got resolved. So, when she passed away, I’m sure my boys had a lot of regrets,” he finishes, sighing deeply. 

“You’re really a superhero dad, Seokjin. You’re doing everything as best as you can for your boys, and I really admire that,” you insert, and you mean it.

“I’m trying, but I’m not so sure if I can replace the nourishment their mother gave- but I also suppose that she ruined it for herself too,” Seokjin sighs, fingers gripping the wheel even tighter.

“Um, you know, if your boys ever need some mother-es que feminine figure in their life, I would love to fill those shoes,” you offer timidly. “Haru really likes your sons, so I can always help out, or invite you guys over for dinner.”

“You know Y/N, I really appreciate that, and would love to take you up on your offer, but I wouldn’t want to cause strain on your family dynamic,” he expresses honestly. 

For some reasons, his words elicit a very intense feeling of shame that echoes throughout your system. “I’m so sorry,” you enunciate. “You must have been uncomfortable… at my house,” you speculate accurately. 

Seemingly hitting the nail on the spot, he sheepishly laughs. “Not uncomfortable,” he clarifies matter a factly, “He couldn’t have made me uncomfortable,” Seokjin jokes, “But, shit, I don’t know.” He brakes softly at the upcoming red light and leans his head against the window. 

Rendering you speechless, you shrink into your seat in embarrassment.

Noticing your timid demeanor, Seokjin straightens in his seat. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that,” he perks up, “Y/N, don’t be like that. You can talk to me about it. You can trust me; you know I’d never judge you.”

You gnaw on your bottom lip, the vulnerability of the situation making you want to shrivel up. But honestly you had no right, the man just opened up about his cheating dead wife. 

You shake your head, looking down so he wouldn’t notice the tears accumulating on your waterline. “No, no, it’s not that- I just I feel so awful, going on a date with you when things with my ex are so complicated.”

Seokjin sends you a look of awe before sputtering out a laugh of disbelief. “Y/N, don’t feel bad about that. I mean- we technically haven’t even gone on a first date yet so this” he motions towards you and himself. “Hasn’t gone anywhere yet.”

You sniffle, wiping your waterline with the sleeve of your blouse. “I know, but I want to be your friend. I-I don’t want this be weird,” you explain between hiccups.

Seokjin amusingly sighs at the blubbering mess coming out of your mouth. “Y/N... you are the last thing on this Earth I find weird,” he trails off. “I mean, I am a little disappointed but it’s good we got this out of the way,” he admits. “Do you want to talk about it, though? How do you think you feel about him?” he asks. 

Leaning against the window, you ponder what to say. “I’m not sure how I feel about him. I was hoping that we would get along since I like you,” you mumble softly. “But my ex-husband stays in contact, it's like he has some sort of hold over me.”

Seokjin raises an eyebrow as he processes this information. “What do you mean by persistent?”

Taking a deep breath, you try to push away the feeling of unease in your stomach. “He said some outrageous stuff, saying he'll always be around if I want him back," you explain. "I mean, can you believe that? He's the one who served me papers."

The older man lets out a low whistle. “But Y/N, ou are still quite young. Not to minimize divorce, but being impulsive and immature can cloud one’s judgement sometimes," Seokjin points out.

You don't respond; Seokjin has made a good point, but the divorce was so difficult that you would hate to attribute it to impulsivity.

“Do you think his feelings are genuine?” Seokjin presses on carefully.

“I-I don't know," you answer hesitantly.

"Would you like them to be genuine?" He follows up with another question that shakes you to your core. If Jungkook was truly serious about wanting to marry you again, would that make you happy?

After a few moments of contemplation, you quietly whisper: “Yes, I guess so."

Seokjin gives a half-smile and states matter-of-factly: “And there we go.”

You allow yourself to process the realization before it slams into you like a ton of bricks.

“Oh my gosh I still love him,” and then you place your face into your cupped hands, sobbing at the impact of the intense realization that has been taken over. 

Seokjin is dumbfounded, hasn’t a clue what to do with this crying lady in his passenger seat. The way you’re crying and hiccupping into your sleeves while trying to express how you feel is somewhat adorable; he can’t do anything except extend a hang to pat you on the back. 

-

“34, 35, 36, 37- daddy, I’m getting tired of counting. Can I get off now?” 

“No baby, keep counting- just til we get to 100,” Jungkook’s replies, appearing a bit out of breath and lethargic. He pushes his body up and down against the rug with both hands, as if he was really out of breath. But really, he had an inner fire that he needed to put out or else he'd go mad. 

Making his seven-year-old kid sit on his back while he does push-ups? That is so Jungkook of him.

“You’re a lunatic,” Namjoon calls out  nonchalantly from his comfortable position on the couch. Namjoon’s wife went out for her friends for the first time since giving birth, leaving their baby girl alone with him. 

The conversation in the group chat went something like this.

jungkook: wyd everyone

taehyung: ?? i told you i was in dubai for a meeting

hobi: he doesn’t listen when u speak, always in his own little world

hobi: I’m at a dinner with my girlfriend’s parents 👀

jimin: OMG!! Does that mean…? YOUre asking them if u can propose to their daughter?!?

hobi: yes

namjoon: COngrats Hobi!1!!1

namjoon: im just sitting on myass at home. The wife went out for girls’ night so i’m here alone

jungkook: congrats hobi, have a long marriage. don't be like me🤣

jungkook: wanna come over namjoon? My kids’ mother is out

hobi: lol they were both abandoned by their baby mommies

“‘m not,” Jungkook replies, aggressively continuing his push-ups until his daughter claws onto the back of his shirt and jumps off her father’s back.

“Uncle Namjoon, can you sit on his back? I’m getting tired,” Hina complains before plopping next to Namjoon and stroking the hair of his little girl.

“I can do it!” Haru appears from across the room, his tiny legs sprinting to practically cannon ball onto his dad’s back, and just like that Haru has K.O’d his father for the first time, leaving Jungkook’s (practically lifeless) body on the carpet.

Namjoon stifles a laugh. “What’s wrong with your dad, Hina?” he ponders aloud scooping some applesauce into a plastic spoon to put into his daughter’s mouth.

“Do you want me to feed Lauren?” Hina asks, and Namjoon nods, handing Hina the spoon so she can spoon-feed Lauren the applesauce. 

“Well, daddy’s just sad because mommy went on a date. He’s still in love with mommy but mommy doesn’t love him,” Hina explains, the bold declaration leaving Namjoon astonished. 

“How do you know so much, Hina?” Namjoon asks.

“I just do,” Hina shrugs casually, leading Namjoon to question the health of this situation.

Namjoon scowls, redirecting his line of  vision to Jungkook, whose body is still on the ground like a thud.

Namjoon stands up, his daughter attached to his body with a baby backpack. “Get up Kook,” He stands in front of Jungkook, offering his hand. Jungkook looks up and accepts the hand, getting on his feet. 

“Follow me,” Namjoon commands and Jungkook really can’t do anything but listen to the older friend. Opening the door to the garage, Namjoon lets Jungkook step outside before standing in front of the door like a bodyguard.

“Wanna talk about it?” Namjoon asks, and the realization makes Jungkook laugh. His misery is so apparent his friend sees right through him.

“The kids told you Y/N went on a date?” Jungkook guesses. “I have half the mind to call her back and say Haru broke his leg or something,” he trails off.

Namjoon looks at Jungkook mortified at his borderline toxic behavior. “You know you divorced her, right?”

“Yes, I fucking know that,” he seethes, “that’s why I just have to suck this up and deal with it.”

Namjoon places his palms over his daughter’ ears at Jungkook’s unbecoming language, glaring at Jungkook. 

“Sorry,” Jungkook whispers, regaining his composure.

“It’s fine,” Namjoon adds. “But are you serious about still having feelings for Y/N? You seemed pretty sure about the divorce.” The comment makes Jungkook want to shrivel up and jump into a hole. He’s tarnished your reputation as a couple, and even his friends are questioning the validity of his emotions. 

Why would you ever believe him? 

“I am,” Jungkook declares. “Y/N.. she’s the only woman I’ve ever loved. I was never able to move on.”

Namjoon softens at Jungkook’s declaration, chewing at the inside of his mouth in contemplation. “Well, I don’t have my two cents to give,” he mumbles, “you already know you have to suck it up.”

He pats Jungkook on the back gingerly, and Namjoon’s analysis that there is no hope sucks the life out of Jungkook. 

“Now let’s go back in and play with your kids. They’ll always make you happy."

-

Seokjin pulls up at the McDonalds, Seokmin coming out with a noticeable sheen of shame on his face. Seokjin unlocks the car and leans back into the welcoming fabric of his seat, releasing a sigh of relief when his son gets in the car.

Seokmin looks a lot older than you last remember- well that’s quite literally how the process of  aging works, but now he exceeds your height, and has a larger and broader build than he did before. The resemblance between the kid and his father is astounding- Seokmin is practically a mini-Seokjin.

Turning to the backseat, Seokjin sends his son a tight-lipped smile and firmly squeezes his son’s hand. “Are you okay?” 

“Yea I’m alright- was just a little scared,” his son responds, before directing his attention towards you. “I’m really sorry you had to come all the way here, and that I interrupted your date.”

You immediately shake your head and dismiss his apology with a wave. “Not at all, your dad and I had a lot of fun on the way here,” you insist, sending Seokmin a motherly smile.

Seokjin looks at you very amused before he glances at the uncomfortable sheen on his son’s face. “It’s not a date anymore, Seokmin- Dad wasn’t charismatic enough to win Y/N over,” Seokjin sighs jokingly.

Seokmin stifles his laughter, leaning back into the seat. “Oh no, what did my dad do to you?” he jokingly asks, making Seokjin roll his eyes at the comment. 

“No, that’s not it all,” you thoroughly insist. “You know, your dad is very handsome, and very popular in the office, but I, I guess we’re just not romantically compatible,” you explain, and Seokjin laughs.

“Surprisingly I believe that. You wouldn’t believe all the crazy things girls at school say about him,” Seokmin shudders, recalling a particular incident that shall not be discussed!

You take a peek at Seokjin, who looks so effortlessly and naturally handsome, especially when he’s laughing at his son’s words. “Yup,” you agree, “I can definitely see that.”

-

The clock reads 2:13 AM when Seokjin pulls into the driveway of your home.

“Gosh Y/N, it’s so late. I’m sorry you had to come with us,” Seokjin sends you an apologetic look.

You dismiss the idea with a wave of your hand. “I haven’t had that much fun in a really long time, I feel like I’m back in college going to parties again.”

“But you stayed in the car the whole time,” Seokjin inserts, eliciting a sputtering laugh from his son. Shooting him a look of playful annoyance you smile at Seokmin. “Please try not to worry your dad anymore,” you lecture pointedly.

Seokmin sends you a lopsided grin, as if he can’t take you seriously considering your naturally playful nature. “Yes ma’am, and I really hope you’ll consider giving my dad another chance," he jokes, making his dad slap the back of the kid's head.

You send him a motherly smile before stepping out of the car. “Be good to your dad, and Seokjin, be good to your son. And hey, please consider playing with my son once in a while” you say, bidding your goodbyes.

Unlocking the door and stepping inside, you’re immediately met with Jungkook anxiously pacing around the living room. At your appearance, he pauses and looks at you if he’s verifying if you’re actually real. You stare at with him with mirroring emotion, just so thankful that he’s here, so thankful that he’s waiting for you, and so thankful that he still loves you. 

You drop your purse and run into his arms, melting into the warm and comforting heat of his body. Though heavily confused, he welcomes your embrace with equal fervor.

With him right in front of you, your resolve crumbles. Your knees get so weak that you feel like you’re going to collapse. Jungkook immediately recognizes it and holds you up. 

“Whoa whoa, Y/N, what’s wrong? What happened? Did he do something?”

You shake your head, leaning into him and letting him hold you while he strokes your hair. “Didn’t even go on the date- his kid called him and asked him to come get him cause a party got busted or something. We drove like four hours.”

Jungkook's shoulders relax, feels like a huge burden has been lifted from his shoulders. Thank God it wasn't for any other reason. He would have lost his mind. “You should have texted me back. You worried me.”

At that you check your phone, not even realizing that he texted you. 

y/n: sorry jungkook, you can tuck the kids in and go to sleep- won’t be back until later in the night. 

jungkook: ?

jungkook: what happened?

You crimson. “Sorry- I-I didn’t see it,”

Jungkook nods his head slowly and understandingly. “That’s okay. So, when’s the next date?” 

Instead of responding, you melt back into embrace and rub your face onto his chest, latching into him like a koala bear. 

“Y/N,” he laughs, “Look at me.”

You look up at him, and with the familiar sight of him peering down at you with concern on his face, you become emotional. You make that silly face you always make when you’re about to cry. You squint your eyes and morph your facial features oddly to hold back the tears, but Jungkook recognizes it, nonetheless.

“Baby… what happened?”

You shake your head again, pressing your cheek against Jungkook’s chest. You can’t live like this anymore. You have to let him know. “There isn’t a second date. Jungkook, I-I’m sorry. I hate pretending like my feelings don’t exist., I want to be with you again. I want our family to be whole again,”

Jungkook looks slightly speechless at your heartfelt confession. He hasn’t a clue of what to say, so he just hugs you tightly against him, gently stroking your hair with a tattooed hand. 

Of course, his heart is soaring at the notion, but this is all happening with such rapidity that he can’t process your words.  “Sleep with me tonight?”

“Okay- I will, just- are you mad at me?” you ask in anticipation, wincing at what he might say.

He softens at how tender you’re being. “Y/N, I’m tired. Can we go to bed and talk more?”

You grudgingly nod, so emotionally overstimulates and exhausted you don't want to think. You let him lead you to his bedroom before you head to his closet and change out of your suffocating clothing into one of Jungkook's oversized t-shirts.

Crawling into bed with him, you use his arm as a pillow and snuggle into his chest. Despite the smears of makeup on his shirt, Jungkook doesn't seem to mind. “Did something happen today?” he asks softly.

In between hiccups, you reply. “Seokjin’s a really nice guy and it was wrong of me to ask him out when I still have feelings for you. I- I don’t know…I just want to stay single forever."

Your confession shakes Jungkook up a little. It's not like he didn't know you still felt something, but hearing it explicitly is a different story. Jungkook sighs. “I don’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable,” he insists. “But Y/N, I don’t think I can handle you welcoming another man into your life.”

“Okay, if you don’t want me to, then I won’t," you simply say, your voice calm.

“Then,” Jungkook starts slowly. “Do you want to give us another try?”

“I think I'd like that,” you stammer, as you sink into his comforting embrace. 

Jungkook pulls you in close and kisses your forehead lightly. “Let's take some time to think about it, and then let me know how you feel tomorrow morning.”

You nod, snuggling closer to him, finally feeling like home again. You drift off to sleep with his arms still around you tight, both of your hearts beating as one unit now that it’s just the two of you together again.

#bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts scenario #bts scenarios #jk fanfic #bts jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #btsfanfic #bts jungkook fluff #bts jungkook scenarios #jeongguk scenarios #jeongguk fluff

[callsign-rogueone]

intimacy alphabet - b.d.

Bodhi Durran x reader words: 1.9k (oops.) 🏷: NSFW. all of it. afab reader, but no pronouns or gendered nicknames used. mentions of penetrative sex, oral, soft d/s dynamics, the usual stuff. I plan to do one of these for each of our boys eventually, but feel free to send a message if you want a specific one prioritized! this is a sexy democracy, after all.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

sleepy cuddlebug. half the time he manages to get you guys out of bed and into the shower, then proper PJs and brushing teeth etc., but the other half, you’re just curling up in each other’s arms and knocking out then and there — you’ll shower in the morning. and he might suggest that you shower together… something about saving time and water… totally not just so he can see you naked again.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he likes his hair, the thick, fluffy curls and the way they contrast his skin nicely. and his arms. he may not be as jacked as his friends, but he’s got some nice strength and definition there that he worked quite hard for.

and don’t get me wrong, he loves every single part of you — but your chest. if you wear a low-cut or tight-fitting top, he’s gonna be staring. he just can’t help it. loves playing with your nipples, sucking on them and leaving hickies on your chest and collarbones. 

also loves resting his head over your heart while you cuddle and having you play with his hair, especially if you were in charge that night; it just feels so soft and safe and warm… he’s also the type of guy to like to fall asleep with a handful of boob, not even in a sexual way, just as a comfort thing. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

says he has no strong preference on where he does it — but really likes to cum on your chest. not afraid to get messy, but he’s a good guy, so he’ll be the one to clean it up and/or wash your sheets for you later.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he’s pretty open with you about what he wants and doesn’t really hide anything, especially now that you’re in a committed relationship. but before said relationship, he definitely didn’t think of you when jacking off in the shower, and most certainly did not gasp out your name when he finished. yeah, that was the tipping point for him, when he realized just precisely how bad he had it for you and decided to finally do something about it.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

before you started dating, he had little to no experience. you figured things out together, and now he knows what he’s doing and what feels good, but it’s still fun for y’all to explore and find out new things about yourselves.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

loves you on top / riding him. that way he can see your pretty face and kiss you and hold your waist / hips, watch your chest bounce while you take him nice and deep… lots of perks to this position (for him, at least. but he’ll offer to take over if you get too tired.)

also fond of anything where you’re super close together, chest to chest or side by side — he wants to be as close to you as he can, always.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

always down for a giggle in the moment. he loves hearing you laugh. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

he’s doing some maintenance on a regular basis. doesn’t have much body hair, other than the loveliest little trail from his navel down…

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

oh, he can be so soft and sweet and romantic… we’ve collectively accepted that Bo is a total sweetheart, and would be so gentle and respectful and loving with you, especially your first time (which is on my very long list of smut ideas lol) 

but yes. kisses everywhere, lots of murmured praise and affirmations, soft touches… that’s just the default for him.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

see letter D.

in the beginning of your relationship, he was handling matters himself more often because he didn’t want to scare you off by propositioning you all the time -- a slight breeze can get this guy going. but now that you’re comfortable with each other, he’s usually doing things with you instead.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

not quite a kink, but he really likes overstimulation. if he’s fucking you and he cums before you do, he’s not stopping. he’ll push through the sensitivity to get you there too. he likes overstimulating you, too (remember what I said about spending hours between your legs?) but sometimes it’s not even on purpose; he just gets lost in the sauce and doesn’t want to stop -- you have to pull him off of you by the hair. coincidentally, that’s also how you found out that he likes having his hair pulled.

he also loves when you take charge, focusing on yourself while you ride him / grind on his thigh / sit on his face… he wants to make you feel good, but he also finds it really hot when you take charge of your own pleasure.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

your room, his, the showers… he won’t try much else when you’re at the school or at Riorson house (too many people around). but if you ever get a house of your own, you’ll be christening every room. and probably every piece of furniture, too.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

all the standard stuff: seeing you undressed, seeing you dressed up or wearing anything revealing, you touching him a little too much (especially touching his chest or waist), when you use that soft, teasing tone of voice. and honestly, if you initiate things / say you want to, he’s ready to go --he’ll almost never decline that opportunity, and it’s a confidence boost to him: he wants to be wanted. 

also, you being possessive and protective of him — I have a scene written where Darling threatens someone at knife-point for hurting him and he’s just like 😍😍

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

does not want to do any sort of degradation or name-calling. again, he’s a sweetheart, and he wants you both to feel loved and respected 24/7, even when he’s railing you or you’re edging him or whatever. it’s just not his thing. nope. not happening.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he can and will spend hours with his head between your thighs. sometimes he’ll just ask you out of the blue if he can eat you out — you can keep reading or doing whatever you’re doing, he just wants to lick your pussy while you do it. though you never stay focused for long, not when it feels that good.

and he loves it when you go down on him. the boy just cannot shut the fuck up when your mouth is on him, babbling praise and swearing and making the prettiest little sounds. he would love it if you swallowed, but again, he’s happy to finish anywhere.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?

he can be slow and romantic when the time is right. he gets faster/rougher when he’s desperate, when he needs you so bad that he can’t hold it back anymore (often after you’ve been teasing him all day.) but it’s usually a good medium pace.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

loves them. this boy is ready to go at the snap of your fingers. he’s absolutely down to spend the spare half an hour you have between classes fucking you. however, comma, you always underestimate how long things will take and you’re definitely going to be late, so you might as well skip class entirely, right?

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

you’ve done a fair amount of experimenting thus far in your relationship, and are content with your usual routine now. anything new is always prefaced with a conversation about it / asking if it’s okay before you do it in the moment. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he can go a good two, maybe three before he’s tapping out, but preparing for war is exhausting, so you usually aren’t going much farther than that anyway. and of course, he’s giving you loving check-ins and water breaks etc. between rounds, especially if things are getting rough.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I can’t decide if he’d like to handcuff you / tie your wrists or not. that way he could really take his time with you and make you sit still while he plays with that pretty body of yours that he loves so much, but then you can’t touch him, and he really likes you touching him… hm.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

proper foreplay is definitely happening nine times out of ten (the tenth being a very quick quickie), but he doesn’t like to draw things out too long, because that means he has to wait as well, and he’s too impatient for that. you’re direct with each other about what you want in the moment.

however, it’s very fun to tease him all day and get him riled up because he’s just so fucking cute when he’s needy, and he’s not afraid to beg, either. but if you take the teasing too far, there may be consequences…

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

not necessarily loud, but definitely vocal. he’s not afraid to moan and whimper and whine, especially when you’re in charge for the night. but even when he’s the one doing the work, he’s still panting and giving you praise, etc. very nice to listen to. also not afraid to make noise when he’s going down on you, humming and moaning at the taste. a bit of a messy eater, too.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he loves it when you mark him up -- hickies, scratches from your nails… this ties into that love of you being possessive of him. he doesn’t even try to cover it up, wearing them proudly as a sign to any onlookers that he’s taken, thank you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

he’s pretty lean, some nicely defined muscle, and there’s a very nice contrast between his skin and the green of his rider’s relic, which takes up half of his back. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

quite high, as mentioned earlier. he’s really into you, and incredibly easy to get in the mood. you’re having some kind of sex 3-ish times a week, or however many times you want -- he’s adaptable, and will always respect you / won’t push things if you say no.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

pretty quickly, since you are almost always cuddling after (unless you have somewhere very important to be) and he falls asleep super fast if you’re holding him and playing with his hair -- that’s a guaranteed way to get him knocked tf out.

#bodhi durran #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing #bodhi durran x reader #might as well tag this as #Bodhi and Darling #smut #mine #reader insert

[rippersz]

𝕴𝖙’𝖘 𝖗𝖔𝖙𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖔𝖔.

«——..✞..——»

«——..✞..——»

(DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT) (TW: Mentions of cannibalism, murder, slight glorification of both, gore, toxic love, smutty/suggestive themes, etc.) (Larissa Weems x Reader)

«——..✞..——»

“The blood on my teeth begins to taste like a poem, like religion, like the way you look at me.” ~ Sean Glatch

«——..✞..——»

Turns out, the maintenance crew was due to leave only about two hours after everyone vacated Nevermore to go to the carnival. The only catch was that Larissa had to turn it back on five hours later; some inane thing about a system catch up and not wanting to blow the lights and blah blah blah. She didn’t really seem too concerned, so you figured it wasn’t worth worrying about. Though then again, her level of reaction is often exaggerated around others. A smooth coverup to her consistent undertone of intense apathy. She’s a damn good actress, you have to give her that. Even when around you, she puts a bit more life into her eyes. Into her voice. Into her breath. It’s forced, of course. Yeah. Most definitely. She doesn’t just magically feel more alive because of you. That type of thing doesn’t happen in real life.

…Cannibals, on the other hand, happen far more often than people like to think.

If you could go back in time and tell your younger self that you’d somehow fall into a weird pseudo-psychotic-relationship with your one day shape-shifting cannibalistic gorgeous boss, you’re pretty sure your younger self would just burst into tears. Or blink maybe- and ask what a ‘cannibal’ was. You wouldn’t have an answer, of course, but that’s neither here nor there.

What’s more important anyway is the fact that you stupidly agreed to meet Larissa by Nevermore’s main entrance at exactly 9:45. You were exhausted after a day of rowdy teenagers and slow classes and it was only at about 7 PM when you remembered that your day wasn’t even over yet. Oh no no no. You still had a game to play. A game that, now as you think of it, standing by the two big doors and waiting for the guest of honor, may just go on well into the night. It depends on how Larissa’s feeling. It depends on what the ‘terms’ are. It depends on if she’s eaten dinner yet and if she has the energy to kill, cook, and clean before everyone gets back.

God you hope that’s not the case.

You really really hope-

“Always on time, I see,” a familiar voice rings through the hall, sounding from the top of the staircase.

Speaking of the fucking thorn in your side.

You turn at the exact moment that Larissa’s kitten heels start click-clacking their way down the stairs… and then promptly fall short of breath at the sight.

You haven’t seen her all day. Not even once. And now there she stands, all 6 feet and however many inches in those shoes and she’s painted against the moonlight that shines through the large windows behind her and the shadows drink her in as the air loses itself in her beauty, stealing away into her lungs and depriving you of oxygen and you, not for the first time, find yourself wondering why it’s so hard to just accept her. To just come to terms with the fact that maybe, if you ignore her insatiable appetite, you may be able to fall asleep in her arms and kiss her peacefully without feeling shame. Why can’t you just push guilt aside and fall into her body and let her pick you up and surround you and finally feel safe? And why oh why can you not take your fucking eyes off of her goddamn body? Jesus you are barely holding yourself together as she drags one slender hand down the bannister, making eye contact with you as she prowls. Those crystal eyes take on a dark, nearly black hue in the grey of the evening and you find yourself ashamed of the fact that you can’t look away from them.

Perhaps some sins are meant to be indulged in.

Her crimson lips curl into a placating close-mouthed smile. Her skin and hair are as pale and pristine as ever. Her perfume, as she gets closer, is heavier- spicier- but the intoxication of scent is the least of your worries. Oh no; the thing you’re most concerned about is the dress. Never have you ever seen her wear red. Not in your five and a half years of working at Nevermore. Not even in your dreams. Larissa doesn’t touch deep colors. She doesn’t wear the darker shades.

And yet?

Yet, there she is. Torturing you. Wrapping her long slim fingers around your attention span and taking all of it for herself. ‘Mine,’ is what she’s silently saying as she gives her hips some extra sway and shows off the loose sash around her waist. The dress reveals the curve of her calves and the tiniest bit of her thighs and suddenly you come to the (stupid) realization that she’s not wearing any stockings. Which she always wears. Which somehow, the absence of, makes your brain short-circuit and recalculate.

“Thank you for meeting me.” And before you even know it, there the Big Bad stands - hands clasped at her waist and head tilted to the side, looking like the cat who did not only catch the canary but also skinned, filleted, and served the little fucker up on a silver platter.

You feel the need to glare at her, to curse her for her beauty and her allure, but you simply can’t muster up the energy to do so. You’re tired- and your emotions are frayed- and you just want to rest- but clearly someone doesn’t want you to be at peace just yet. No, clearly, she wants you all to herself for just a little while. You’re not sure why, you’ve contemplated it before, but dwelling on anything regarding Larissa Weems is a spiraling whirl of insanity and despair that you just don’t wanna go down right now. So it’s better to stay in the present… and give her a little hum while you cross your arms. If she’s noticed that you take on such a defensive stance whenever she’s around, she hasn’t said anything. And she probably won’t either. Cuz she doesn’t care.

“Yup. Are we gonna get this over with or what?” It comes out harsher than you want it to, forcing your organs to immediately crinkle up like smashed paper as you cringe at your sharp tone.

Larissa fairs no better as her expression falls and her lips twist into a frown. The lines of her face become deeper when she looks so depressed, like she hasn’t slept in 80 years. You want so terribly to tell her to suck it up and stop acting like a baby, but you also know that her excitement about fun and friendliness is not a thing she fakes. The Poe Cup excites her. The Nevermore dances and activities and Outreach Day and this, that, and the other all bring her some modicum of joy. The kids themselves make her happy. It’s weird to know a person who has killed another human being and enjoyed the taste of their flesh… while also finding happiness in the simple annual events of their job. Like she has an alter ego; but you know that’s not the case. She’s 100% herself. Which is both admirable and scary.

“If you don’t want to,” Larissa hisses, making you freeze at the sound of undeniable ice in her tone, “then don’t make me force you. Go to bed, if you so wish. I’m not going to keep you against your will.”

Like a monster. She doesn’t say it, but you think that maybe she’s thinking it.

And though you want to respond and say But you are a monster. You have kept people against their will before. You have killed before. you decide to steer the conversation to safer shores and get yourself out of harm's way. Larissa doesn’t often get serious with you, but whenever she does it, you know better than to push her buttons. Certain boundaries have not yet been established. You never know if you are safe.

“Sorry- sorry. I’m just tired. Really, I’m fine. Let’s play and then we can get some rest. That sound okay?”

A dark gaze pins you to your spot, staring into the very marrow of your bones. It’s clear what she’s thinking. It’s clear what she knows. Like she knows you’re just agreeing to save your own hide. She knows you’re complying out of fear. She can’t hear your heartbeat, but she knows it’s running faster than a speeding train. She knows she’s shifted the line once again.

The only thing is that she really can’t bring herself to care.

You’ve complied. That’s all she needs.

“…Fine. Yes. Are you ready to discuss the terms?”

It’s obvious that the tension hasn’t dissipated entirely, but you figure that as the night carries on, that will change.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

Who knows? It may even be fun.

Larissa smiles.

It’s wide.

It’s.. scary.

Sharp.

A Cheshire grin.

Cold. Steely. It doesn’t reach her eyes. You feel sweat start to bead along your back.

“In the name of saving time, there will be one round. I will seek. You will hide. We will have 45 minutes in total. However, you will get a 20 second head start. Should I manage to find and catch you in under 45 minutes, you’ll join me for dinner. The main course will be poached lamb. And you will be required to eat it.” There’s a pause.

“All of it.”

Okay not fun. DEFINITELY not fun. So incredibly not fun.

You swallow.

“…And if I win?”

Then what? Then what if you win? What the fuck do you get out of this? What could she possibly give y-

“Then I will give it up.”

…What?

You look at her wildly. But there’s no expression on her face. She’s just… blank. White behind the eyes. Nothing. Apathetic.

No.

No.

Practiced indifference.

She doesn’t think you can win.

She doesn’t even want to consider you winning.

But all is fair in love and cannibalism. And she’s never been one to tip the scales.

“I’m sorry, you’ll what?” You’re just not sure you’ve heard her correctly. She’ll ‘give it up’?

Larissa sighs, her lashes fluttering as she purses her lips and gives you a ‘look’.

“If you win, I’ll give it up.”

…And that’s it? That’s all she’s gonna give you?

“What do you even mean? Give up the whole killing people and eating them thing? The-” You look around, suddenly nervous about a creature somehow lurking in the shadows. One can never be too careful. Probably best that you don’t speak so loudly. “-the cannibalism?” Your body leans closer to her as you whisper, though your eyes stray and scan the shadowed columns and walls of the entrance hall.

Larissa of course takes that opportunity to get closer to you and bends down at the waist, lining her lips up to your ear while you’re distracted.

“Yes, darling. I’ll give up the cannibalism.” And her voice is so husky and her breath is so warm, flushed against the side of your neck, that you nearly fall right to your knees.

I’ll give up the cannibalism.

Oh you could laugh. You could laugh and you could laugh hard. She’s joking- she has to be. And you’re about to tell her that, you’re about to turn your head and tell her not to fuck around with you, but then your cheeks brush and suddenly you’re letting out an embarrassing squeak and stumbling back to hit the door behind you.

She blinks, straightens up, and smiles down at you as though nothing ever happened.

It’s infuriating.

“You’re lying. You wouldn’t do that.”

A light eyebrow quirks up.

“Wouldn’t I?”

A heavy staring contest ensues; but you’re the only one trying not to blink - Larissa is just looking. And smirking. And god fuck her for being so fucking gorgeous.

“I’m a woman of my word, Y/n,” she purrs, watching with such amusement as you desperately try to collect yourself and steer yourself back on track.

Not that the track was very clear nor sane in the first place. In fact, the track probably leads to Hell.

Oh well.

You were never getting through the pearly gates anyway.

“Okay,” you decide, looking her up and down. “If I win, you stop it. All of it. No more killing, eating, nothing. The only protein you consume comes from livestock. Not human livestock. Just- livestock.” You nod to yourself, giving her a firm stare.

But just because you reaffirmed what happens if you win doesn’t mean you will. And she knows that. So she hums and turns on one heel, taking her burning gaze away from you and sweeping it over the floors and walls- down into the darkness of the corridors. You don’t know what she’s thinking, but you have a feeling it’s not good. Larissa can be very sneaky when she wants to be… cheating, at least in a playful little game like the one you’ll be having, is certainly not below her. In fact, she’s entirely capable of winning. Like on a level you could not even imagine. She’s been around Nevermore for how long? Counting her years in the Academy as a student and as an adult… knowing her roommate used to be the cunning and sly Morticia Frump neé Addams… well. Her big sexy shapeshifter brain probably has the entire fucking place memorized.

And you haven’t even been there for six years.

So you’re saying you’re doomed.

Yeah. Basically.

“Yes,” Larissa finally confirms, turning back to you with a quick shift of her legs. “And if I win, you dine with me.” Oh she looks so excited about that. Her eyes, somehow, are darker than they were before. No light reflects at all as they carve into your soul. Already you can tell that she’s imagining how she’ll cook the meat.

“…Poached lamb, you said?”

She grins, her smile sudden like she’s surprised (and delighted) that you remembered.

“Yes. Would you like to know what other dishes I’ll be preparing?”

At the sound of her cheery tone, your expression sets into a scowl.

“You’re talking as if you’ve won already. What makes you think that’ll happen?”

Her physical response is minuscule. Barely even there. But you notice the slight way in which her cheek twitches; and you see how her hands tighten around each other. When she responds, her red lips are curved into a smirk and her voice is soft. Soft and kind. It sends a blaze of hot warmth across your body.

“I find acting as though you already have the thing you want tends to result in obtaining it.” Her head tilts. Her eyes run over your body. From your feet to your head, over the swaying black cotton dress you’re wearing and the necklaces you have draped over your collarbones. Slow and steady. Tracing your arms… your legs… your shoulders… your waist… your breasts and your hair… not hungry for your flesh in her stomach, but hungry for your skin against her tongue. Your skin against her lips. Your skin against her own. She lets out a sigh. “And I want you.”

It’s breathed out into the night - and accompanied by the sudden loud chime of Nevermore’s clock tower.

You jump at the sound of it, immediately slapping a hand over your heart in shock.

“Goddammit! That fucking thing gets me every time.” It’s definitely not the thing to be focusing on, but you’re not sure you have the mental capacity to pick through and understand the implications behind Larissa’s words. As it is, the change of the hour means you have even less time to play before the rest of the staff and the children return.

Larissa, of course, did not jump out of her bloody skin. Instead, she watched your body tense and your eyes widen with no small amount of fondness. She thought you were silly. Adorable. Hers.

“I suppose that’s our cue, then. Are you ready to begin?” Her white teeth glimmer when she turns to glance up at the staircase.

You feel your heart start to thump within your ears.

Always the little lamb, aren’t you darling?

Yes.

Always the prey.

Yes.

Meant to be hunted.

Yes.

Meant to be found.

Yes.

No.

Wait. …Meant to be found?

No...

No no no no no no.

Not meant to be found. Not meant to be found at all. The whole point is not to be found. The whole point is to escape.

Oh? What are you escaping from? There is no one here to hurt you. There is no one here to get you. You are safe. You are safe.

Oh if only that were true…

If only she could love you without wanting to swallow you whole.

You finally sigh, resigned and tired.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, Larissa.”

«——..✞..——»

Can you tell I’m hyperfixating on her? Thank you so much for the love. (Let’s just pretend Nevermore’s clocktower works. And the power being out will come into play in the next part ;)) - Rip x

(P.S. Tell me who you want to win in the game of hide and seek.)

(P.P.S. Most of the meat referenced in this series is code for human flesh. ‘Long pork’, for example, is the official name for human. Here, the ‘poached lamb’ and other types mentioned in future is also code. Thx.)

«——..✞..——»

#rippersz #fanfictionwriter #fanfic #fanfiction #larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #wlw fanfic #larissa weems x y/n #larissa weems x you #principal weems x reader #principal larissa weems #dead dove #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #dead dove: do not eat #darkfic #cannibalism #cannibal larissa weems

[worldsover]

Kaninchen und Ente

In your mind, there were three different ways your dinner date with your friend Yena would end. The first would be noticing that familiar sight of a telephoto lens hidden in a bush, and the two of you would have to come up with some fantastical excuse. Second, she would tell you she had a great time, drop you off at your place, and never speak to you again. Lastly (and this was a sliver chance, but you had to find comfort in that sliver), the date would spark the same feelings in Yena that you had for her, and maybe she’d be willing to go on a second date, or maybe she’d even accept a kiss at the end.

None of the above.

The liveliest smile on her face as usual, a boundless energy that you did your best to match, yet you couldn’t read if she was being her usual self or if she was genuinely having a good time.

When you were chatting in her car, it seemed the disappointment of the second outcome was becoming more and more likely. Though in that case, she didn’t have to come into the apartment. You weren’t expecting anyone to come over soon, especially not Yena, so you feel bad you didn’t clean it up much. You were meaning to get an armchair that actually matched your blue couch, but instead you have this brown plaid abomination. There’s blankets and pillows scattered about, clutter like keys and mail on your dining table.

Despite all that, she looks content to relax and sip away on beer next to you. Funny enough, there’s Yena on TV, though just for a brief moment in a commercial. She smiles seeing herself. Guess that feeling never goes away.

“Is my bed that nice?” you ask. You can’t make eye contact with her. The longer this goes on, whatever she’s up to, the more awkward you feel. You try your best to pretend like the date’s never happened. “Do you like making me sleep on my own couch? This is why I told you not to drink.”

“You really want me out of here that much? You hate me that much?” She’s saying it in this annoying cutesy way that makes it impossible for you to hate her.

You sigh. Set your can of beer on your coffee table next to another couple cans of soda.

“Look, I should be straightforward with you.” Yena sets her can down too, scoots closer to you on your sofa, and puts her hand on your shoulder. “I wasn’t really getting the couple vibes. But I know you were being super sincere and I wanna make it up to you.”

“Oh, so you’ll sleep on the couch this time then?” You scan her eyes to judge her reaction to the joke; again, you can’t figure them out. “It’s fine, I prepared myself for worse.”

She giggles. “See, I know you like me now.”

You blush. “Come on, you don’t have to rub it in.”

Yena’s hand moves about an inch: fingertips on the back of your neck, and those sensitive pads must understand the bumps they're giving it right now. Her eyes are half-open, sultry, dim yet clear in intent.

"Yena, what are you..." You didn’t have to ask.

She leans in. “Did I say I don’t like you?”

Your lips touch, and you close your eyes.

"What?" you ask? Why did you ask? You didn’t have to ask, you're staring, and now she's staring back.

Yena flashes a hungry smile before she pulls you in again, and this time, your lips are attached for much longer. And she's not just sitting next to you anymore, awkwardly twisted, but she shifts and scoots until eventually, she is sitting on your knee. Her hand goes from being lightly placed on your neck to tightly grasping your back, her arms in a complete hold. You run your hands through her hair, and then your digits find a bit of purchase, giving a light tug. The two of you engage in this back and forth of who can embrace who more, who can get their body closer. The warmth. It’s subtle but it isn't just the air. It's on your leg. It's unignorable. Between her legs, on your thigh, she's so warm as she adds a second back and forth of her hips.

When you pull her hair again, you swear she just moaned into your kiss. Her tongue follows the destination of the small sound she made: straight into your mouth, and now count a third back and forth of tongues. She stops grinding against your leg and is instead earnestly leaning into you know; you can feel her sizeable breasts pressed on your chest.

As the two of you let go for air, you both tug at each other shirts. In a blur, you have nothing but your boxers while Yena is only wearing her red bra and panties.

“Oh, they’re matching?”

Yena glances away. “That was an accident.”

You smile smugly, and Yena’s blush only grows when your hands start move from her back to her shoulders to her ample tits. You give them much focus, massaging and kneading over her bra. Take plenty, plenty of time to watch the mesmerizing physics; you could stare at the valley between her breasts for hours.

“You like them?” Yena pouts as she squeezes her arms in front of her to accentuate the cleavage.

“Yeah,” you answer breathily, and your fingers follow her bra straps.

“I can take it off if you want.”

You nod and Yena reaches behind to unclasp, then slowly lowers her arms, allowing her bra to fall down her arms and onto the floor—the moment it hits the ground, you take her nipple into your mouth and suck hard on it. She's breathing hard, but it catches when your hand comes around and cups her other breast. Her head drops and her fingers find their place in your hair, somehow pulling you deeper into your makeout session with her chest.

"Fuck, I should've rejected you sooner."

Your tongue is circling around her nipple when you laugh. You look up and raise your brow. "Why?" You bring her nipple to your lips again and this time, use your teeth for a little extra friction and suction.

Yena lets out a little yelp. "Because you'd be fucking me way sooner, that's why!"

"I'm not sure how I feel about that." But you do. You feel a surge of blood pulsing in your cock, and Yena does too. Even though you both have your underwear on, you swear you could burst the fabric right there and then. Especially when she grinds down into your rapidly growing erection harder. Your hands leave her breasts—they've been made glossy by your licking, and you relish in the sight for a moment—then you focus on her pert ass, squeezing both cheeks.

“Oh, ah, please,” Yena says between gasps for air.

You glance up and she's biting her lip, struggling not to moan loud enough for your neighbors to hear. "Please what, you ask?"

"Kiss me, fuck me, anything, please!"

You laugh, and kiss her neck; then you lean back a bit so you can see her face. You want to see it when your hands move from her asscheeks to underneath her panties. "I'll have to think about it. You might be a little wetter than normal," you say.

"Fuck, I'm so wet. I didn't expect this much, oh my god." Her hand darts under your waistband. The mere touch of her digits on your cock's tip sends your brain into a frenzy.

You reach down and grab Yena's wrist. Give each of her tits a kiss. "I can't stop thinking about these. You ever given a titfuck before?"

She bites her lip. "No, but I can imagine what you mean by that."

“Good. Down.” You don’t mean to come out so short, but she shudders when you say it like that.

“O-okay.” Yena gets on her knees. There, she finally fishes out your cock, pulls your boxers off your legs. She looks as dazed as you think you are, her fingers delicately on your shaft.

"Spit on it."

Yena nods hastily, opening her mouth and procuring as much saliva as she can before she sticks out her tongue and lets a generous strand fall. Some of the spit gets on her cleavage, some on your cockhead. With one hand, she guides your erection between her breasts while the other hands helps press them together. She looks down, a bit cross-eyed focusing on your dick, and spits forcefully a few more times, which leaves both her chest and your shaft covered.

"Perfect."

She bends her head down far and slides your cock up so that she can lick the tip of your cock with her tongue. "Muah, muah." The sensation of her plump lips kissing so sweetly, combined with the pressure of her tits around your shaft, makes you groan, and you instinctively push forward. You hit the back of her mouth, and she gags, releasing your dick with a bunch of drool on it. Her brows furrow.

You know Yena is going to get fixated on trying to get you deeper, so you reestablish what you wanted by pinching her nipples.

"Mmh! Okay, okay." She brings each of her hands on each of her breasts to squeeze your cock between them again before she starts sliding you up and down. You let your head fall back against your couch, and then you realize you must keep looking at her. While every touch alone can bring one step closer to your climax, you want to enjoy the visual experience even more. After all, look at Yena. She's gorgeous, adorable, and yet so incredibly naughty. Even though she's never done this before, she's putting her all into blowing your mind with this boobjob. Sometimes she's looking up at you with the most intense glare—no camera nor stage could pull that sultry expression out of her—while sometimes, she's staring down at your cock, fascinated by the size and shape of it, by the way it shines with all the spit, or by how your tip pops out from between her ample breasts. Every once in a while, she stops her movement to stroke your cock between her tits or to let her tongue droop out, tasting the precum dribbling from your slit. Then, whenever she feels like it, she resumes, and you just sit there, amazed by how great this feels, amazed that you're actually doing this with your friend or with an idol like her.

While Yena keeps up the same pace of bouncing up and down, keeping her boobs pressed together on your dick, your body tenses up; there, that familiar rush of excitement. After an expletive or two, you let her know.

She slows down. "Not yet."

You're gasping. "What do you mean?"

"Don't cum on me."

You swallow your own spit.

"In me."

There's a million thoughts a mile. All of them involve being inside of her, feeling her tightness wrap around your cock, filling her up, making her yours, consuming her, making her squirt and scream and lose herself in orgasmic bliss... and then you remember: you shouldn't. It's too risky, unsafe. What if you don't pull out time? What if she gets pregnant? How are you going to deal with all the repercussions—

The rabbit-duck illusion. An ambiguous image in which a rabbit or a duck can be seen. Understand this.

Yena gets up, then she's back on her knees but now on the couch, facing away from you. Her cute ass is in perfect view, and so are her damp panties, especially when she bends down, putting her head into the cushions. She looks back and pouts. "Please? I'll even..." She tugs her underwear, and it sticks to her pussy for a moment with some thin strands of juice before she pulls it down her thighs. Her cunt is glistening, pink and swollen with need, and her clit seems already hard, eager to be stimulated.

You stare, transfixed at Yena's beautiful folds, and after a long, silent moment where you try to convince yourself it's okay, you take her panties from her and throw them on the floor.

Yena sticks her ass up higher, wiggling it. There's a delectable curve to her back, and you can spend all day studying the perfect anatomy, her tits hanging, the back dimples above her ass, the dip of her spine. In fact, once you get your mind right (or wrong, depending on how you look at it), you spend at least a few moments massaging her shoulders, her back, feeling every inch of her skin. You can't resist pressing a kiss on her soft, pale skin. Your thumbs rub circles around her shoulder blades, and she whimpers. Whimpers even more when she feels your shaft between her asscheeks.

"Please?" She sounds resigned, exhausted that you haven't fucked her into the couch yet. Yena's giving the sweetest puppy eyes she can.

Taking a deep breath, you hold your erection and rub your cockhead against her folds.

"Fuuck," Yena whines.

You smirk, then push.

The second your cock slides into her cunt, Yena yelps into the sofa.

You've never felt anything so tight before. In one way, her inner walls are like steel, squeezing you with a vice grip that almost hurts, but she's also so warm, wet, and soft. And the more you start to move, the more her inner muscles tighten around your shaft, until they feel like they're already trying to milk your cock for your seed. You're not even done your first stroke.

"Fuuuuck," she moans again, and this time, she pushes her ass up, shoving your cock deeper into her pussy until it hits the deepest part of her. This is where you start to really go for it, thrusting your hips forward before pulling back against the whims of her apparently greedy hole. Every thrust that you give is met with a shove back from Yena, her thighs slapping against yours, your balls slapping against her cunt.

You grunt and bite your lower lip. This girl doesn't give any slack at all. You hiss, one hand gripping the couch, the other on an asscheek. "Fuck, your pussy feels so damn good."

Her only reply is more squealing.

"Yena," you call over the sound of her voice, but she's lost in another world of pleasure. You slap her rump, and it has no effect. Her moaning becomes louder, desperate, and you find it impossible not to speed up, pushing faster and harder. When her ass slaps against you, her juices drip down your balls and onto your couch, and you're suddenly so hot. You can practically feel the sweat dripping down your sides and between your legs.

Without thinking, she's tensing her legs and bringing her knees together, and your cock receives more of this unbelievable friction soothed by a never-ending stream of nectar from her hole.

You grab her long hair, making a ponytail that's more of a handle. It forces a gasp out of her, also forces her to get up onto all fours. Yena looks back at you for the first time in what feels like forever and it's cloudy. Her expression, her eyes, her smile, they're all foggy and lost to lust. You're probably looking at her the same way, unable to truly focus on anything other than the perfect feeling of her pussy.

So you don't expect when she says, "Are you close?"

You manage to puff out an airy "Yeah", surprised at her prescience.

"Remember." She moans when you hit some inner part of her she probably didn't know about. "Nnh, I said, fff, fucking, fuck, cum inside. I wanna feel your cum, dripping, hot, in me."

Your whole body trembles as you slam into her. You slow down for just a moment to put your knees between her legs and force them apart; you're getting too overwhelmed by her pussy. You grab each of her hands, pulling them behind her because you need all the extra leverage to drive through her depths. You pull her enough to lift her torso up; now she's kneeling while sitting on your cock at the same time. You fuck upwards into her, your balls tighten and pulse, and your load is nearly ready to shoot. You hear her breathing change, quickening as she gets closer, but you don't have the strength to last any longer.

Yena cries out loud when you begin to empty into her. "Yes! Yes!"

You're still thrusting even though you're going through a powerful orgasm, your whole body tensing in earthquakes of pulses, all your muscles tightening. She was already so warm, but now it's even warmer when you feel your seed blasting into her insides. By the looks of it, or rather, by the feel of her pussy clenching on your cock, she's going through a similarly strong climax, which causes her to add a mess of clear fluids to mix with your thick white semen.

"Feels so, so, so good," she says raspily.

You grunt in agreement, and your cum dribbles out of her pussy and down your balls.

"Fuuuck." She breathes, barely, and then leans back.

You collapse with her, catching your breath while you catch Yena on your body the whole time. You can hardly breathe; your heart is pounding so fast in your ears. Now you're lying on your back on the couch, and Yena is lying on you, your still-throbbing dick still inside of her creamed hole.

After you finally find your breathing's regular rhythm, you try to sit up, but find that Yena sleeping on top of you makes it a bit difficult.

Luckily, you can just reach over to your coffee table, grab some tissues. You try to clean up as much of the mess underneath you as you can.

Yena stirs awake at your movement and sits up.

"Hey. If you want, you can just head to my bedroom and sleep there. I'll clean this up."

There's a strong blush on her face. "No, no, let me help—"

"No, it's fine, just go ahead."

"Okay. As long as you come sleep with me. If you're not in the room in... five minutes, I'm going to be mad at you. Actually, if you don't, we're never doing this again."

"Oh, so you plan on doing this again?"

Yena crosses her arms. When she sits up, she brings a hand between her legs and slides a finger up her folds. You watch her suck that very finger with a moan, and you're almost hard again. But then she reaches down for her panties, puts them on quickly, and gets up to scurry over to your room.

She said five minutes so you're done cleaning in two.

You head to your bedroom and find Yena half asleep. She stretches when she sees you open the door.

"Cuddle me," she says adorably with her arms out.

You get under your blankets. She's lying on her side, so you lie behind her to spoon her and wrap your arms around her torso.

“Can I be honest with you?" Yena asks. "That was really good sex. I only cum like half the time."

"Really?" You can't hide the grin on your face.

"The feeling of cum inside me just... mmm, fuck. That's why I put on my panties. It makes me tingly and I don't know why."

You whisper, "Wow".

"But. Well. I just can’t imagine us in a million years being exclusive.”

There goes your smile. You loosen your hold of Yena. “So what, you want to sleep with other guys?”

“Yep.”

“Well, that feels unfair.”

“Oh, I think I can make it up to you even better.”

✦✧✦✧✦✧

To be continued.

Yes, this is just one scene of a longer story, but I know myself and figured I might as well post this now (because for one thing, I haven't posted in four months). You might see this again in the full thing edited.

#kpop smut #izone smut #yena smut #reader insert #male reader

[manyminded]

I can’t stop thinking about shadow milk x physically disabled!reader. is this just because I, myself, am disabled? yes. but still. (Warning the writing below will be very wired to my experiences and mine only!! Sorry to my fellow disabled shadow milk lovers!!!)

~~~

just…imagine.

there’s an ache in your gut. a pain, deep in your psyche - something is fundamentally wrong with your body. you want to cry. you’ve run out of tears. every breath leaves you heaving, every step sending a shooting hurt through you. it feels like you’re just constantly sick or ill, having to take on the world with what is essential the flu 24/7.

shadow milk doesn’t understand, at first. survival of the fittest ruled in his time. why are you so tired? in so much pain? you haven’t done anything crazy.

it’s hard to explain. “it’s just how my body is,” you say, “the doctors never figured it out. I accepted it a long time ago.”

but there’s something about being there. about seeing the effects with your own…two? eyes, and the understanding that comes by being forced to help.

it’s…difficult. worse for you, certainly, but that doesn’t erase the learning curve. after spending thousands of years stuck in a cycle of torment and being the tormenter, it’s hard to heal.

but he manages. he’ll jump out of the shadows, letting you lean on him. he’ll even cary you, if you can’t keep walking. it’s almost become second nature to take you home in an emergency. (plus, scary dog privileges. doctors are much more willing to listen when you have an ancient beast with you.) he’s there when your symptoms get worse, both in public and in private. he’ll get anyone off your back if they’re harassing you for having symptoms.

it doesn’t get easier, more like it just becomes routine. maybe it’s nice to have someone around. it’s a healing of self through the other - finally being listened to, on your end, and on shadow’s, he gets to use his powers for something other than destruction. reddened hands come away clean, for the first time in an eternity.

doesn’t mean it’s perfect, far from it. easy to slip into old habits. days are hard. the journey ahead is rough, awful, gravely and painful.

but you will make it.

I believe in you.

#shadow milk x reader #shadow milk cookie #crk x reader #shadow milk cookie x reader #shadow milk crk #cr kingdom #crk #Cookie run #cookie run kingdom #disabled writing #disabled writer #disabled characters #disabled reader #x reader

[lilyginnyblackv2]

Buddy Daddies - Episode 12 - SPOILERS! - Rei’s Injury and His Hobbies - A Deeper Look

I was thinking last night about Rei and his arm, about hobbies, and also about accessibility, and how those tend to overlap in regards to the stereotypically gendered spaces of said hobbies.

Specifically, Rei’s gaming hobby vs. Kazuki’s cooking hobby. Gaming has tons of people of all ages, genders, and sexes that play them. But the sphere itself is still largely male first and male dominated. There is also a lot of focus placed on skill level, and there are plenty of “gamers” out there that look down on people who play games on easy level or who struggle with certain aspects of games, saying stuff like “get gud!” or whatever. 

I love games! I enjoy playing them, but I am definitely more of a casual gamer and I enjoy playing games solo (Rei seemed to as well, or playing with Miri, he never seemed to engage in online game play - that was likely too risky).

My mother enjoyed playing games ever now and again too. She was a very casual gamer, basically just liking classic stuff like Mario and Donkey Kong or even arcade games like Pac-Man, etc. She didn’t play much as new gaming systems came out like Playstation and N64, but she did used to have the option to play a game if she wanted to. Until about 10 years ago.

She had a stroke (due to medication for her heart condition), and lost movement on the left side of her body. She has practically all of her face movement back and her left leg works well enough, but her left arm and hand has very little to no movement. The option and ability to play video games became extremely limited, basically just to the Mario Jump game or whatever on mobile. 

The gaming industry has an inaccessibility problem. There are some customized controllers out there for single hand game play usage, but the quality of them vary a lot and they don’t seem to be all that good. Many games are crafted with single hand game play in mind (or even as an available option either).

Of course, Rei was younger than my mom when he self-inflicted that injury on himself, and he was trained in a lot of areas and skills that might make it easier for him to recover a bit more arm movement and adapt more to being able to play some games with only one hand (I know there are some gamers out there who have learned how to do this!). But, generally speaking, the gaming hobby is a seemingly male dominated hobby space that lacks a lot in accessibility options.

Games being more of an actual hobby, as in for entertainment purposes solely, rather than a mixture of hobby and survival skill like cooking (Kazuki’s hobby) is, also likely plays an aspect in the difference between ease of entry, use, and accessibility that you find within the cooking hobby sphere.

Don’t get me wrong, there is elitism here in the sense of people looking down on others who use pre-made food or who do this or that, but there are a lot of gadgets and tools that can help with cooking. My mom can’t really play video games anymore, but she can still cook.

Cooking, while on a professional and culinary level has a lot of connection to famous male cooks, is still seen as a hobby and overall seemingly female dominated space. But it is also a space more welcoming to accessibility. Using guides, like recipes, are common and accepted instead of looked down upon (like in gaming), and so on and so forth.

In the 10 year time skip, we see that Rei is cooking. How much he cooks and if he really cooks anything outside of his signature dish is unknown to us. Does he still play games at all on any level? We don’t know and can’t really say. Not with the info we’ve seen and what has been given to us.

The fact that his amount of game play in the day was already being limited before the incident with his arm (1 hour per day) makes me think it was likely a hobby that he likely wasn’t engaging in with as much as he started learning and obtaining new skills (like cleaning and cooking).

There may be other hobbies that he picked up over the years as well too, but really does make sense to me that he would start engaging more with cooking as well. Since it is a hobby and skill that is more accommodating to him now.

Also, I’m only speaking from second-hand experience (my mother’s experiences with things like video games and cooking and the like), if you have your own experiences with something like this are okay with sharing or talking about it - please feel free to!

#Buddy Daddies #BD #Rei Suwa #thought post #meta post #long post #BD spoilers #Buddy Daddies spoilers

[circle-with-me]

'tis the damn season - part 4

Pairing: Will Ramos x OFC (Gen/Viv/Vivvy)

Content Warning/tags: 18+ MDNI!, vaginal fingering, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, body worship, hurt w/ comfort, fluff

Word Count: 4.6k

Tag list: @concretenoah @deathblacksmoke @midnight-eternals @bngurngheart @malice-ov-mercy @witchyweeb34 @lyschko666 @cookiesupplier @lilrubles @meekahy @lacktoesandtoddlerants, @sammyjoeee

If you would like to be added to my tag list for this series or my other works, please sign up here.

Author’s Note: This part took longer than I had anticipated due to some personal issues, but hopefully this was worth the wait! I'm certainly proud of this part. Thank you to @deathblacksmoke for editing this and helping me rewrite parts that I was unsure about. Thank you to @concretenoah for helping me brainstorm and letting me bounce ideas off of you. Love you both sm 🤍.

A loud knock at the front door scares Gen awake. She sits up abruptly, holding onto her head as the pounding begins. She looks over at the coffee table and eyes the empty whiskey bottle, remembering the night before. Once Will left she downed the rest of the bottle to numb the pain and anger. Soon after, she passed out on the couch, whispering his name over and over. 

She groans when she hears another loud knock, scooting off the couch and heading towards the door. The knocks become louder and more frequent the closer she gets. 

“I’m coming. I’m coming!” she grumbles, flinging the door open. She immediately holds her hand up over her eyes as the sun blinds her, her head now pounding even harder. A tall figure steps in the ray of light currently burning her retinas, blocking it from her view. She silently thanks them.

Once Gen’s vision returns to normal, she recognizes the tall figure as Mr. Shaw. He was dressed much more casually from their initial encounter — a thick black sweater, jeans, and sneakers. He surveys Gen’s appearance and she’s suddenly very self conscious as she realizes she probably looks like a complete mess.

“Good Morning, Ms. Taylor.” He flashes his thousand watt smile at her. She smiles back.

“Good Morning, Mr. Shaw. Would you like to come in?” 

He shakes his head. “I’m afraid I can’t. I just came to make sure the rental company dropped this dumpster off.” He turns and points to a gigantic blue dumpster sitting at the curb. “I figured it would make cleanup easier.” 

“That’s very kind. You didn’t have to do that though.” 

Mr. Shaw waves her off. “Don’t get too excited. I used money from your inheritance to pay for it.” 

Gen raises her eyebrows in amusement, and he laughs at her. “You steal my money and you don’t even stick around to help me out.” Gen teases. “You really are a great lawyer!”

He laughs louder this time. “What can I say? I’m good at what I do.”

She laughs with him and leans against the doorway. “Jokes aside, thank you for all your help.” 

“It’s not a problem. If you need anything else, give me a call.” He walks to his car and leaves. 

Gen falls back on the couch and huffs. After a half gallon of water, some greasy food from the gas station and a few tylenol she decided to take on the house. Six hours later she has barely made a dent in all of the clutter. The entire kitchen is clean at least so she accepts the small victory. 

She has spent all day staying busy to keep him out of her head but as soon as she sits down and is alone with her thoughts, he is there. The way his face contorted at her words, his lips on hers, the final words he spoke to her as he slammed the door. All of it comes back in a flash and suddenly her head is pounding again. She pushes her palms into her eyes and curses loudly.

Gen eyes her phone. You can’t call him. You don’t know his number. She thinks to herself. Is she really going to be that much of a coward and apologize over the phone? She wanted to avoid this situation all together but her heart was beating her brain into submission. What did everyone always call her? Bullheaded? Obstinate? 

Stubborn.

She snatches her phone and dials the only number she remembers. It rings a few times and a woman speaking a language she doesn't understand answers. Gen hangs up quickly and drops her phone in her lap. Well that idea didn’t work. 

With no idea how to get in touch with him and no way of knowing where he lives now, Gen was out of options. Her phone pings in her lap and she looks down. An Instagram notification from Natalie sits on her home screen and Gen mentally chides herself. The solution is obvious. Stalk him on social media like a normal person.

Will’s Instagram is easy enough to find. He was verified now and had amassed a lot of followers. As she scrolls through his account, It doesn’t take long for her to find a photo of him with a woman hanging off of him. She scrolls past quickly, ignoring the way her heart sinks. The rest of his account is full of photos with his band, his car, and his cats. And a few more women. 

“You can’t expect him to be alone for the rest of his life just because you plan to be.” She whispers to herself tauntingly. She immediately groans at her own words. Could she be more insufferable? 

A video he posted two days ago catches her eye and she clicks on it. Will is standing outside in the snow. She’s so focused on his face she doesn’t even pay attention to what he’s saying. He flips the camera around to show his cats standing behind a familiar glass patio door and her mouth drops open. 

No fucking way.

The apartment building looks mostly the same as it did when Gen left, save for a fresh coat of paint and a few repairs to the outside. She stares at the door. Will’s car was right next to hers so she knows he’s home. That knowledge makes her nerves even worse.

She lays her head on the steering wheel and howls in frustration. Her head makes light repeated contact with the steering wheel as she hopes for some form of higher power to smite her now so she didn’t have to do this. 

Bullheaded.

Obstinate.

Stubborn.

Once again, her heart beats her brain into submission. She sighs and gets out of the car. As she approaches the front door, Gen reaches for the knob but pulls her hand back quickly because the door is already opening. She hears laughter, Will’s and someone she doesn’t recognize. A female appears and almost runs into her. 

“Oh!” The woman exclaims. “I’m so sorry I didn’t see you.” She laughs nervously and adjusts the bag on her shoulder. She’s pretty. Blonde, slender, and slightly shorter than Gen. Her bright blue eyes are accentuated by her long eyelashes. She has plugs and multiple facial piercings. There were no visible tattoos from Gen’s quick once over but winter isn’t exactly the best time to show them off. 

Gen holds her hands up. “No need to be sorry. I was the one just standing here.” 

“Viv? What are you doing here?” Will steps into view behind the blonde. His voice is honeyed for the sake of company, but his expression gives away his annoyance. 

As they both stare at Gen her mind goes blank. What is she doing here? She isn’t going to say it in front of this woman. It isn’t any of her business. Besides, Gen doesn’t even know who she is. She could be his girlfriend for all she knew. Gen ignores the queasy feeling in her stomach at the thought. 

“I- um…” She starts. Will cocks an eyebrow in anticipation and his friend gives her an awkward smile. Gen flounders for a few more seconds but luckily the woman has mercy on her. 

“Ya know, I was just leaving! I will leave you both to it. See you later, Will?”

Will stares at Gen for a moment longer then clears his throat. “Yeah, see you.” He gives her a soft smile and waves goodbye. 

He returns his gaze back to Gen, this time it’s a little softer. He steps out of the doorway and silently invites her in. She holds her breath as she walks past him but it’s forced out of her quickly once she’s inside. Everything was almost exactly the same as it was when she left. 

Gen feels something rub against her leg and a soft meow follows. She looks down to see a tan and black cat with white socks staring up at her, circling between her legs. She squats downs to pet it, cooing as it meows back at her. 

“This is Bobbi.” Will says crouching down next to her. 

“Hi Bobbi.” Gen says, planting a kiss on the top of the cat’s head. She looks back at Will and he smiles softly. He looks around for a moment before his eyes land on something and he rolls them. “And that loaf,” he points to her left, “would be Dusti.” 

Lying in a basket attached to the window sill is a black cat completely unfazed by the new guest in the home. Gen walks over and scratches Dusti’s head, chuckling as he rolls over and bats at her hand playfully. 

“What are you doing here, Vivvy?” Will asks. He’s leaning against the back of the couch now, fidgeting with his hands. His curls were out of his face for once, secured in a bun with a spiral hair tie. The look he gives her, likely without even meaning to, gives her goosebumps and causes her cheeks to heat. 

“I need to apologize about last night.”

He takes a deep breath and considers her for a moment. Gen can see he’s chewing on the inside of his lip. He looks down at his hands and adjusts the bracelet on his wrist. 

“No, you don’t.” He looks up, eyes boring into hers. “It’s me who needs to apologize.” Gen stares at him in disbelief. She had said such horrible things to him and he’s apologizing instead?

“I don’t understand. What do you mean?” She questions.

“I’ve been a dick since you got here, Viv. All I’ve done is complain about you leaving and throw it in your face when I’m the reason you left in the first place. You’ve made this wonderful life for yourself. You made your dreams come true. I’m so fucking proud of you, Vivvy. You were right. If you had stayed you would have fucking suffocated here with me.” 

“Will, I-“ Gen starts but he puts a hand up to stop her.

“If I had been a better boyfriend… If I had just been honest with you in the first place then none of this would have happened. Maybe we would still be together and… L.A. would be our home.”

“What are you talking about?” Gen says as she walks closer to him. Will sighs and runs his hands over his face. 

“When you first told me that you wanted to go to New York, I was really excited for you,” Will starts, fidgeting with the skin of his fingers. “I knew how badly you wanted to get out of here, and how much you loved your job. I would have gone anywhere for you,” he admits. Surprised by the confession, Gen watches as tears begin to well up in his eyes. “I told my friends because I thought they would be excited too, but they all said how it was a terrible idea,” Will continues, face twisting uneasily at the memories. “They said you would be working with these big artists and producers, and you’d get so caught up in the music industry that you’d forget about me,” Gen’s heart sinks, she wouldn’t have, but she can’t exactly blame him, either. “I couldn’t let that happen, so I freaked out and refused to let you go. I should have talked to you,” The shame is clear, gnawing at him. He’s been sitting with this, alone, for so long. “I was selfish and thought I could keep you here with me, but I lost you anyway.”

Gen is left speechless at his confession. The more it sunk in, the more it made sense. He would never give her a straight answer even when she begged him to tell her why he wouldn’t go. This whole time he was scared she would leave him for someone else?

“If you were so afraid of me leaving you then why did you just let me go? Why didn’t you tell me the truth then?”

Gen watches as he shifts uncomfortably. A tear rolls down his cheek and he’s quick to wipe it away. 

“You made it clear you were going with or without me. I was heartbroken and angry.” Will closes his eyes, the memory becoming too much to bear. “When you left and never came back it just confirmed my fear. You forgot about me.”

His words punch her in the stomach, forcing all of the air out of her lungs. They’ve known each other since they were kids. They started dating at thirteen. He was her first boyfriend, her first kiss, her first everything. They made plans to spend the rest of their lives together. How could he possibly think that she could forget him?

It dawns on her that for him, the situation was reversed. All of this time she had spent thinking he didn’t care, that he had forgotten about her. When in reality, he thought the exact same thing. She was his first for everything too. How could she think he could forget about her? 

Suddenly, the photos of all of the women on his instagram and the woman at the door crosses her mind. Her heart starts to race and jealousy crashes into her. She knew it was irrational. He had every right to pursue other relationships but did he really have the audacity to be upset with her and accuse her of forgetting about him when he so clearly had no problem replacing her?

“I forgot about you?” Gen challenges, scoffing. “From the looks of things you had no problem forgetting about me. It seems I was easily replaceable.”

Will’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“I’ve seen your instagram. You haven’t been shy about posting your girlfriends.” Gen watches as he leans forward, like he’s making sure he’s hearing her correctly. “You haven’t posted the pretty blonde that just left yet, though. Is she brand new or just not special enough?” 

Will remains silent for a moment. He watches her, his jaw clenched, lips pressed into a straight line. “The blonde you are referring to is Austin’s girlfriend. He’s the drummer for Lorna.” Gen’s stomach drops as she realizes her mistake. “She came by to pick up some stuff he left here on her way home from work. So, no, I’m not fucking her.”

He takes a deep breath and stands up, walking towards her. Peering down at her, he speaks calmly. 

“Even if I was, I don’t owe you an explanation for how I choose to cope with losing you. It took me over a year to even look at someone else.” Gen begins to feel sick, overwhelmed. She backs up, but he follows her. “When I finally touched another woman it damn near killed me but I wasn’t going to put my life on hold knowing you had moved on with your life.” 

“Will, You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.” Gen snarls, shoving her finger into his chest. “When we broke up every shred of belief I had in true love dissolved into thin air. I’ve spent the last eight years alone or having meaningless sex because what was the fucking point if it wasn’t you?” 

Will’s face falls, the shame evident. He reaches for her but she recoils and turns away. She sits in the chair by the window and wraps her arms around her legs. Will wrings his hands and sits down. He fucked up again. How does he keep doing this? 

They sit on opposite sides of the room in silence for what seems like hours. Gen focuses on the snow falling outside, crying silently. Will sits on the edge of the couch with his head in his hands. The guilt and grief in the room is so palpable they can’t even look at each other. Will decides he can’t take the silence anymore. He sits up straight and looks at her.

“Viv?”

Gen folds in on herself as soon as she hears her name. He sees the sobs wracking her body and his heart aches. He was sick of the fights, the hurt. All he wants now is to fix things for good this time.

“Viv.” He repeats softly. “Will you come here to me, please?” 

Her sobs continue and his instinct is to walk over and take her in his arms, but he doesn’t. From her body language alone she was on the verge of a meltdown and he knew better than to touch her without her permission. Despite this, he couldn’t let her sit there all alone. Besides, he would be lying if he said he couldn’t use some comfort of his own.

“Vivvy…please?” Will begs, his voice cracking. “I need you.” Gen stiffens, her sobs turn to quiet sniffles. She shifts and for a moment he thinks she’s going to get up but instead she just repositions herself. Will sighs dejectedly and places his head back in his hands. 

A few moments later, he hears soft footsteps followed by the feeling of a warm hand resting in the juncture between his neck and shoulders. Will looks up to see her standing in front of him, her face flush from crying. 

She studies him, her other hand coming to rest on his opposite shoulder. Her fingers absentmindedly dip underneath the collar of his shirt. She rubs circles into the muscles of his back, a calming tactic she picked up years ago. Will exhales and drops his head forward. He begins to reach for her but stops.

“Can I touch you?” He requests. He tries his best to keep it from sounding like he’s begging. Gen nods but he isn’t satisfied. “You know I need your words, honey.” Tears brim in her eyes and as soon as the soft “yes” passes her lips he wraps his arms around her waist, burying his head in her stomach. 

Gen wraps her arms around his neck, and Will opens his legs to allow her to step in between them pulling her even closer. She feels his body shake as he weeps and she gently shushes him and scratches his scalp.

“I’m so sorry, Will.” She utters. “For everything.”

Will shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry. This is all my fault and I’ve been treating you like it’s yours. If it wasn’t for me, none of this would have happened.” He places a single kiss on her clothed stomach right above her belly button and looks up at her. She runs her hand along the side of his face. “I guess we both made some mistakes, huh?” 

Will agrees and swallows harshly. He plays with the hem of her shirt, his fingers lightly caress her bare skin. “Let me make it up to you?” Gen’s heart pounds in her chest at his words, her own proving to be difficult. An “okay” is all she can manage but that’s good enough for him.

Will takes both hands and places them under her shirt, pushing it up slightly. He peppers the soft flesh of her stomach with soft kisses, his thumb lightly rubbing against her hip bone. He dips his thumb in the waistband of her jeans and looks up. She nods and he pops the button open, sliding them down her legs and helping her out of them. 

Will places his hands on either side of her thighs and squeezes. He takes in the sight of her, the plush hips and thighs that he loved worshiping. The dark spot that forms on the red lace panties she wears makes him lick his lips. Will pulls her closer to him and kisses her hips, the top of her thighs, her clothed pussy, anywhere he could reach. He inhales her scent and his cock twitches in his jeans.

He grabs her leg and hikes it up over his shoulder, making sure she holds onto his other shoulder for purchase. He pushes her panties to the side and runs a finger through her folds. They both gasp at the same time, Gen from the feeling and Will from how wet she was already. He gently presses a finger inside her and watches as her head falls back, moaning quietly. 

Will continues to watch her savoring the moment until she squeezes his shoulder and whines. “What do you need, baby?” He coos. “M-more.” She stutters, rolling her hips into his finger. Will smiles and kisses her thigh. He slides another finger in and she keens. 

He continues to kiss up and down her thigh, leaving soft nibbles as he goes. This was all about her but the way her slick was running down his hands made his eyes darken. It had been so long since he tasted her. He stares at her pussy as he fingers her, attaching his mouth to her thigh and sucking on the flesh as he’d suck on her clit.

Gen looks down at Will, his eyes rolling back into his head, and she nearly cums just from watching him. She grabs him by the hair and gently pulls him away from her thigh. “If you want to taste me, just ask.” 

“Can I?” Will pants. “Please?” Gen nods and he lunges forward, licking through her folds. He closes his lips around her clit and sucks. She shudders and grips his hair tighter, grinding against his face. Will moans into her, bucking his hips. He desperately wants to free himself from his jeans but his hands currently have a more important purpose.

Will is ravenous as he devours her, his fingers digging into flesh of her thigh. He feels her clench around his fingers and the arm he was using to hold her steady wraps around her waist, pulling her tight against his face. Legs shaking as she cums, Gen cries out Will’s name. Her release gushes over his face and down his arms. 

He doesn’t waste a single drop. 

Will barely gives Gen a moment to breathe before he’s picking her up and toting her to his bedroom. He lays her on the bed and makes quick work of removing his clothes. When he turns his attention back to her, the way she looks makes him stop in his tracks. 

She’s fully naked now, propped against his pillows. One hand is playing with her hair while the other draws lazy patterns on her stomach. He follows the curve of her breasts and he swears there has never been a woman more perfect than her. Their eyes meet and something akin to embarrassment settles in them as she attempts to cover her body. 

Will frowns and crawls next to her. “Hey.” He says, placing his hand over hers. Gen peers at him from the corner of her eyes, then down at their hands. “Please don’t hide from me.”

“I don’t look the same as I did before.” She laments. Will removes his hand from hers and cups her cheek. “No, baby.” He kisses her temple gently. When she leans into his touch he continues, leaving a trail down her face and along her jaw. “You’re even more beautiful now. Let me show you.” 

Gen lets him move her hands away. Will hovers over her and leaves soft kisses on her neck. He palms her breasts, drawing her nipple into his mouth. When his tongue swirls around and he bites down, she gasps and arches into his touch. 

“You’re perfect.” Will whispers as he leaves open mouthed kisses between her breasts. “You’re soft. And warm.” He punctuates each compliment with a kiss to her belly. He kisses and nibbles his way back to her lips.  “And you’re even more beautiful than the day I met you.” 

Their mouths meet in a deep, heated kiss. Will swipes his tongue on her bottom lip and her lips part inviting him in. Gen feels his hard cock press against her core and she squirms beneath him, desperate for friction. Will moans into her mouth and hooks his arm under her leg, using the other to push himself up on his knees. 

Will strokes his cock and places the tip against her slit, rubbing it against her and collecting her slick. He lines himself up with her entrance but looks up first. “Is this okay?” He breathes. She nods. “Mhmm.” He pushes in slowly. His head falls back, eyes squeezing shut at how good she feels.

The feeling of him stretching her out makes Gen dizzy. She grabs ahold of his shoulder and he turns his head to kiss her hand, continuing to slowly pump inside her. As he bottoms out she takes a deep breath and rolls her hips into his, a silent plea for more. Will groans as he begins to thrust into her harder. 

Every single inch of him consumes her. Will grips her hips tight, biting his lip. His eyes focus on where they’re connected and he slams into her even harder. She cries out, clinging to him and scratching his arms. He dips his head down to kiss her and she wraps her arms around his neck to pull him closer. The kiss is messy and desperate. 

“Fuck, I’ve missed you.” Will moans against her lips. Tears form in her eyes. She isn’t sure if it’s from Will’s admission or because he feels so god damn good. All she knows is that she hasn’t allowed herself to feel like this, to feel satisfied, in ages. She has punished herself for years and she decided she was done. It was time to surrender and take everything this man was willing to give.

“I’ve missed you, too.” Will doesn’t miss the crack in her voice as she says it. He kisses her fervently and sneaks his hands between them, massaging her clit with the pads of his fingers. “Want you— fuck,” He pants. “..need you to cum for me, Vivvy.”

The moans and cries that flow from Gen’s mouth as she climaxes are music to Will’s ears. He watches her face twist in pleasure and rubs his hands up and down her thighs as they shake. Her pussy clenches around him and he knows he’s not far behind. 

Will takes both of her hands and places them above her head. Instinctively, Gen wraps her legs around him and pushes him in deeper. He grinds into her and pulls all the way out, then slams back in. He repeats this a few more times and picks up his pace. Both of their moans fill the room. Will buries his face in Gen’s neck, sucking on the flesh as his orgasm approaches quickly. 

Gen can feel his thrusts get sloppy and by his whining pants in her ear, she knows he’s about to cum. The barrier breaks as she raises her hips to meet his. He cries out and sinks his teeth into the flesh of her neck, grunting and groaning as he stills inside her. She can feel the muscles of his stomach tense as he collapses on top of her. 

Will releases her hands and she scratches her nails up and down his back. He brings his hand to the top of her head and plays with her hair, the other caressing her cheek. She smiles and strains her neck to look at him, kissing the vein on the side of his head. 

“Are you just going to stay there forever?” She questions, poking him in the side. 

“Hmm.. don’t tempt me.” He mumbles into her neck and she laughs. She pokes him again and he squirms but doesn’t budge. “Willllll!” Gen whines playfully. “You’re suffocating me and I have to pee.” 

Will pops up suddenly. “Fine! I will let you up. On one condition.” 

Gen narrows her eyes at him and smiles. “And what is that?” 

“Will you stay here with me tonight?” 

part five

#will ramos #will ramos x ofc #will ramos fanfiction #will ramos fanfic #willramos #william ramos #lorna shore #lorna shore fanfiction #lorna shore fanfic #will ramos smut #william ramos smut #williamramos #lornashore

[mando-fando]

Miguel O’Hara Being a Caretaker Drabble

Idk I got this idea earlier!

Tw: mentions of depression

You’d snoozed your alarm too many times to count. By the time your heavy lids slowly opened, the sun was high in the sky.

That familiar ache settled deep in your bowels as you stared up at the ceiling. The feeling that everything was simply too much. Your limbs felt like they were being encased by 10 tons of cement. You slowly turned on your side in your bed as you thought of the many things you’d wanted to accomplish today. Regret and shame filled you as you began to accept that nothing would be getting done. You’d be lucky to get out of bed at all.

You can’t recall when these moods began to overtake your life. They were unpredictable and all encompassing, ruining your plans, your productivity, and your self worth in one fell swoop.

You heard clinking in your kitchen, and furrowed your brow.

“Hello?” You called out nervously.

Your boyfriend, Miguel, walked over and stood in the entryway of your bedroom door with a smile. “Hey, sleepyhead,”

Your relationship was still fresh. Barely out of the honeymoon stage. You’d just given each other keys to your respective apartments as a sign of commitment.

You had casually mentioned your bouts of depression to Miguel, but you’d never told him how severe it was.

A panicked thought rushed through your foggy mind: your apartment was a horrendous mess.

You gasped as you looked around your room. Clothes were strewn around, and you pictured the pile of dishes sitting in the sink.

“I brought you some coffee, but you seemed pretty tired.” Miguel said as he walked over and sat on the edge of your bed.

Your cheeks were bright pink from embarrassment. He was sure to break up with you now that he knew what a catastrophic nightmare your life was.

“Thank you… you didn’t have to do that,” you said sheepishly.

“I also cleaned up a little. I hope that’s okay,” He reached up and tucked a strand of your unwashed hair behind your ear.

You felt like shriveling up and dying as you suddenly became aware of your day old makeup smeared across your face. The idea of showering the night before was overwhelming.

“Oh my god,” you put your head in your hands, desperate for him to stop looking at you. “You probably think I’m disgusting.” You mumbled.

“Hey, look at me,” Miguel said gently as he brought a finger under your chin.

“You’re not disgusting. You’re just having a bad day,” he smiled. “Let me help you. Please.”

He seemed so sincere. Your heart fluttered at his tenderness. “…Okay.” You said apprehensively.

You were so tired. Exhausted, despite just waking up. There was no explanation.

“So…it gets kind of bad sometimes.” You began to explain.

“It’s okay, that’s what I’m here for. Are you hungry?” He said gently.

You shook your head. “Maybe later.”

“Do you want to take a shower? Or I could give you a bath?”

You felt so small, but not in a belittled way. You felt cared for. “A bath would be nice.”

Not long after, you found yourself sitting in a perfectly warm bubble bath as Miguel knelt next to you. He’d washed your hair for you, and you were already starting to feel much better.

“Lean forward, please,” he gently tapped your shoulder. You obliged. He began running the sudsy washcloth along your back, rubbing in small circles.

He followed along your shoulders to each arm, and he’d finally finished cleaning your entire body slowly and lovingly.

“Thank you,” You said quietly. He smiled at you.

“You’re welcome. Do you want to sit here for a bit, or are you ready to get out?”

“I’d like to stay in here for awhile. The water is nice,”

“I’m going to order something for dinner. If you need anything, just call for me,” he gave you a gentle kiss on the cheek and stood up.

What had you done to deserve someone so kind? You didn’t know, but you promised yourself to cherish him.

When your fingers began to prune, you pulled the drain plug in your bathtub and quickly rinsed off in the shower.

You wrapped a towel around yourself and walked into your bedroom to find a clean set of loungewear waiting for you.

After toweling off your hair, you pulled the clothes over your damp body and went to go find Miguel.

He was sitting on your couch, scrolling through a list of movies. When he saw you walk into the room, he smiled.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” He asked as he patted the spot next to him on the couch.

“Better,” you said with a small smile as you sat next to him.

“Pizza is on the way. Should be here soon, I think.” He pulled out his phone to check the status of the order.

“You didn’t have to do all this, you know.” You placed a hand on his arm.

“I know. But I wanted to.” He said reassuringly.

You ended the evening laying on his chest as he gently caressed your back.

The overwhelming ache in your belly wouldn’t cease for awhile, but it was dampened by the love and affection of your boyfriend.

#tw depression #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #across the spiderverse #atsv

[anabdaniels]

Cowboytober Day 10- Body worship

Paring: Agent Whiskey x Plus size!Female reader

Word counting: 1.2k

Rating: 18+

Warning: Self body shaming, praising.

Masterlist

Nothing would ever feel better after a deep cleaning day than a fresh shower. You walked back to the bedroom, wrapped in the towel, smiling softly at the vision of Jack sitting on the floor in front of the dresser, organizing a few bedsheets in the last drawer. You stood in front of the mirror to brush your wet hair.

When you were almost done with your hair, Jack was the one going to shower. Once your hair was finished, you got rid of the towel to get dressed and stopped for a moment, looking at yourself with that self-conscious critical look you would never use with anyone, but was common for you to use with yourself. You leaned your hands on your rounded belly squishing it softly and touching your stretchmarks, trying to contain those mean thoughts about yourself, but failing miserably.

While getting out of the bathroom, Jack noticed your expression, already knowing what was running through your mind due to the look on your face. Calmly, he approached you, holding you from behind while resting his chin on your shoulder, looking at you through the mirror.

“I hope you ain’t overthinking, honey.” He said softly and kissed your cheek.

“I was just wondering how crazy you were to get married to me.” You tried to make it sound like a joke, hoping he’d laugh, but, as always in those circumstances, he didn’t.

“I’d be crazy if I hadn’t got married to the most stunning lady in this world.” He answered calmly and caressed your stomach.

“C’mon, can’t you tell the truth at least once?” you looked at him with a neutral expression “I’m aware of my not-favorable appearance.” Judging by the look on his face, you knew that the matter was almost personal to Jack now.

“If you were truly aware, my precious sugarcube, you wouldn’t say such an unfair thing about your stunning self.” He said while caressing the sides of your body, planting a soft kiss on your shoulder.

“Do you really think that?” you asked sincerely “Sometimes I think you’re just being kind as my husband.” You frowned slightly when he chuckled and shook his head.

“Look, I don’t want to sound like a bastard, but the night we met, I wasn’t hitting on you ‘cause I was interested in your academic achievements. It was this amazing ass of yours.” He said with that flirtatious smirk while groping your butt with one hand.

“Okay, you almost convinced me now.” You answered shaking your head and laughing quietly.

“Wait ‘till a drop my other thoughts about your amazing curves, my darlin’.” Jack kissed the top of your head while pulling you with him towards the bed.

“Have to admit I’m curious.” You said while he placed you mounted on his lap.

“Then let me start for what’s right in front of me.” Before you could question, his hands were already on your breasts, gently squeezing them “I swear ya, honey, you could convince me to sell my soul with this pair of gems.” He finished the sentence leaning forward to kiss both of your breasts.

“I bet you can’t have such good opinions about the rest.” You said calmly, really meaning it.

“Trust me, I can.” He winked at you with a playful expression, moving his hands to your thighs “If you allow me the honesty, I’m a step ahead of "accidentally" throwing those damn baggy jeans you have on the trash, ‘cause it’s criminal that you even though it’s acceptable to hide your amazing thighs, not to mention that they ruin the view of your butt.” Jack kept speaking calmly while one of his hands moved to your ass “I have another important remark, but I don’t know if you can deal with it.” With that, Jack awakened a hundred possibilities in your head, and of course, they were the worst possible.

“This is already living rent-free in my head without even knowing what it is, then just say it.” You answered without second thoughts.

“Well then.” He smiled and moved both of his hands to your stomach “I could spend the next three hours just saying how much I’m down for your soft belly and I’ll lose my composure if I even start to mention how amazing it feels to grab a handful of you.”

You were ready to discuss the topic, but all your questions brutally vanished from your mind when you felt him getting really hard under his sweatpants. You couldn’t control your reflex of looking down, wanting to be sure that you weren’t imagining things, and when you looked back at him, you could see the look of satisfaction on Jack’s face, as if he had managed to prove to you his point.

“See? You can doubt my words as much as you want, but you can’t deny this.”

“I’ll have to agree with that, even though I wasn’t expecting this amount of reaction.” You admitted with a soft expression, even though you were still surprised.

“But you should expect it, honeybee.” He answered promptly while placing you lying on your back on the bed “Y’know I love a good fleshy steak.” You couldn’t keep your attempts to be serious after that.

“Alright, you got me on this one.” You chuckled softly, losing your focus even more as you felt his hands moving through the folds of the skin of your belly. You melted a bit on the bed when you saw Jack caressing your stretchmarks with his fingertips, looking at them as if they were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

 “I’ll never understand how you can even doubt about how perfect you are, sugar.” He said quietly and planted a kiss on your stomach, keeping his hands sunk on your skin.

You sighed softly as he covered your skin with kisses and caressed every inch of you, spending a good time on all the places he reached, but not surprisingly, the top of his focus kept on your stomach, squeezing it, caressing that rounded spot on your lower stomach that you always tried hide and he always ended up with his hands there, and you could swear that he had kissed every single stretchmark he could see.

When Jack moved up to kiss your lips, safe to say that you were about to turn into a puddle after his loving behavior toward everything you saw as a defect in you. You enjoyed that slow passionate kiss, sinking both of your hands on his hair, and relaxing under his body, appreciating while he kept caressing the sides of your torso. After a reasonable amount of time, the two of you needed to catch your breath, and only at that moment, you realized the tears starting to fall from your eyes.

“What’s the matter, honeybee?” Jack asked with a slight frown, caressing your cheek.

“It’s... It still weird for me to feel good about myself.” You admitted quietly, letting out a sigh when Jack pressed a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I hope you know you just gave me the mission of making you feel like that ‘till you got used to it.” He said in a whisper with his forehead resting on yours, letting you with no doubt that he was serious about it.

Cowboytober Masterlist

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #agent whiskey #agent whiskey fic #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #jack daniels #jack whiskey daniels #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #kingsman: the golden circle #pedrostories

[angelprinz]

thinking about stepbro diluc raping his younger sister because he doesn’t want anyone else to be the one who gets to take away her virginity :( diluc can’t let his pretty girl have a bad first time! so ofc he decides that no one would be better for you than himself <33

when you confessed in that shy embarrassed tone that you were a virgin, untouched, after a few sips of champagne at your mother's wedding to diluc's father, you hadn't expected diluc to remember that little fact that slipped past your lips. you didn't even think he was serious, but the next time your step brother has invited you to try out his cocktails, it seems he has plans for your virginity.

dark content warning. minors do not interact.

word count: 1.5k | fem reader x diluc smut!

trigger warnings: rape kink, non-con, virginity loss, alcohol/aphrodisiacs, noncon drugging, stepcest, diluc-nii my luv <33333

diluc didn't mean to get you drunk. he had guessed your tolerance was low but fuck, do you look lewd with your cheeks flushed red and eyes dazed as you drink from the nearly empty flute of champagne. diluc can imagine how sweet your lips would taste, he choose the drinks of the night, and how easily he could take advantage of you, his new step sister. the strap of the tight dress you wore for the reception was dangerously dangling off your shoulder, showing off skin diluc desired to mark with his teeth and claim you by tainting it with his sticky load. how can he have the hots for his step sister and want to rape her drunk self so badly?

diluc knew it was immoral but your vulnerable state made him even harder as he gripped your face by the chin, your face slowly forming a face of confusion. "diluc-nii? what's wrong?"

he couldn't help how his formal slacks felt confining as he answered you with a strained voice. "do you know how dangerous it is for you to be drunk? somebody could seriously hurt you."

"hmmm? how? aren't i safe here with you diluc?" your slurred words only made diluc sigh, exasperated by your naivety.

"what if i wasn't here? someone could just rape you y'know?"

"o-oh! i wouldn't know, i'm a virgin." diluc gulped as you smiled drunkenly, a quiet giggle leaving you before you fell asleep right in diluc's palms, the alcohol finally overwhelming your system.

diluc cursed, the new information of your virginity and you asleep in his arms made it all too tempting. nobody else should ever have the privilege of taking his sweet trusting step sister's innocence, nobody but him. though diluc could simply undress you right now and defile you, he chose to wait. he'd make his stepsis feel so good that she simply couldn't ever want to find another. with that, diluc had lifted your body into his arms and carried you from the wedding reception back to your room, now that you'd permanently live in his mansion as part of his family.

when you awoke the next day, all cleaned up and comfily tucked in bed you knew diluc had taken care of you! you felt so safe with your new stepbrother, he was the older brother you've always wanted. how could you ever suspect him for having other intentions with you?

so when diluc invites you to taste test his creations that night, you're delighted that your stepbrother wants you to spend time with him! helping him with his job meant you were useful to him and you eagerly accepted his offer not knowing how the night would end up.

"come sit here." diluc patted his lap and pointed towards the line-up of his latest concoctions. "i need to observe your reactions to gauge which one is most to your liking." though his ruse would be seen through by anyone who had any idea about wine tasting yet you didn't defy him, reasoning that diluc was clearly the expert between the two of you!

sat upon diluc's thighs, you reached over for a glass containing bubbling liquid*, entranced by it's vibrant colouring. "what's in this one? it looks like a rainbow!"

"a paradise cocktail. it's a mix of juices, brandy and a special ingredient. i'm sure you'll like it." diluc smiled to himself, glad he'd spiked each and every drink with copious amounts of alcohol and aphrodisiac, designed to make your first time further heightened. the moment you take your first sip, he'll count down the seconds until you're needy underneath him.

your alcohol tolerance was already known to not be the strongest, so you're pleasantly surprised when you can down the whole glass easily, the refreshing taste making you feel pleasant and relaxed on top of diluc. "ah, i think i like your drinks the best diluc, i couldn't help finishing it!"

"really? you enjoyed it? why not have another one, i have a whole table top of drinks made just for you." though the first drink tasted wonderful, you could feel the alcohol being to make your head buzz and skin heat up. "oh, i don't know, i think 'm already getting tipsy."

unlucky for you, you being drunk was exactly what diluc wanted tonight. getting tipsy was only the beginning of the sensations you felt, the warmth spreading through your body and making your cunt suddenly wet. what was going on? your mind felt fuzzier than usual and diluc cupped your cheek, his expression looking concerned.

"already? you don't look so well little one."

"hahh, it feels strange, especially down there." your stuttered words caught diluc's attention immediately, a satisfied smirk forming on his face as your step brother leaned forward to kiss your lips. diluc couldn't help it, he had waited all night and finally everything was falling into place. you felt unusually sluggish and couldn't push diluc off, only whimpering under his forceful kiss with confusion.

"what's going on-"

"i'm making you feel better pretty girl. don't you trust your brother hm?"

with a swift movement, diluc's removing your clothes and pinning you against the table. "been thinking of you all day, can't believe such a precious doll like you still hasn't been held. but i'll change that for you baby, i'll make you feel so fucking good."

"no, this is wrong uh, diluc please!" your pleas are stopped by the way diluc spreads your soaked folds, fingers sliding into your wet cunt and curling inwards to loosen your most initimate parts for what's to come.

"it's not wrong at all if it feels so right. your pussy is so tight, such a cute little virgin that will feel perfect wrapped around my cock. there's no need to beg, i'll fuck you right after i make your pretty hole ready."

diluc plunges his fingers deeper into your leaking cunt, thumb rubbing on your sensitive clit and forces your mouth to take his tongue, exploring both your holes with aggressive touches.

when diluc parts from your lips, a string of spit connects your mouths and his face softens at the dazed look on your face from being fingered by diluc's rough hands. his hand is holding your cheek again, vermillion eyes staring into yours as his fingers brush up against that spongy spot inside your pussy.

"nnh- something's ah, coming out diluc, stop please!" ignorning your begging, diluc's fingers stroke insistently on your dripping clit and rub against that bundle of nerves until you cum, gushing wet around his hands with a weak cry.

you sniffle against the marbled table top, body exhausted from orgasm and the influence of alcohol within you but diluc's not done. your step brother has barely begun, his pants pooling at his feet as he strokes his erection, slapping the tip against your pussy lips with a groan.

"shit, gonna deflower you. gonna cum right in this virgin pussy and breed it full." diluc moaned as he slid his cock into your trembling walls, cursing at how you clamped down on him like a vice, it felt almost too much, like his seed was going to spill over any moment and flood your pussy but diluc wouldn't want to let go of this moment. taking his cute drunk step sis's first time shouldn't end so quickly, after all, he was taking your virginity. diluc wanted to make you feel good too, just like the euphoria he felt burying his cock deep into your cunt until the hilt was against your clit.

the view of you splayed beneath him and stomach bulging from how deep his length reached made diluc lose any little control he had left, rutting desperately into your fluttering walls, groping your chest with each thrust, opening up your untouched walls to accommodate him and carve your insides in his shape.

the pressure of your stepbrother's cock fucking into your overstimulated cunt had you creaming around him after a few thrusts, completely unused to having your pussy split open by a cock much less one as large as diluc's. at this point, you were nothing but a fleshlight for diluc to fuck into, laying there to take the brutal pounding from diluc's cock. the stamina of your older brother seemed endless, you knew how long he could go for during training, now that energy was being spent on ravaging your pussy until you feel diluc still with a particularly forceful snap of his hips before leaning in close, caging your body in with his.

then you felt it, the twitching of diluc's cock inside you as it began pumping in his cum. you could feel the liquid filling you up inside until it leaked, flowing down your thighs as diluc pulled out to watch how your cunt dripped. "what a good girl, taking my load so well on your first time. you better not fall asleep on me, we've still got all night and all these drinks to finish."

*i'm aware that not all alcohol is effervescent. however when someone dissolves a sort of tablet (date rape drugs), they often form bubbles and fizz as they dissolve. just a fun fact. a/n: forgive me for any mistakes. lil woozy from all this nic.

#diluc <3 #tw. dark content #tw. rape #tw. incest #genshin dark fic

[elsgooglyeyes]

those three words.

summary: you take care of ellie after she returns from a tough patrol

warnings: 2 usages of “f*ck” but other than that just pure fluff! ALSO ellie has a hard time with her feelings and admitting things pls keep that in mind...

a/n: this is litchrally my first fic i've ever written (pls be nice) but this has been my nighttime scenario for a while now, so i thought id be self-indulgent and write it, then share it with you all :)

wc: 1k

most of your evenings are spent waiting on ellie to return from patrol, but rarely do you ever have to wait this long for her. the time passes slowly as you read the old, dusted book in your hands, sitting on the couch. legs swinging off the side to the beat of the old grandfather clock. as minutes begin to feel like hours, your worry for ellie starts to creep into every crevice of your mind; reading paragraphs multiple times and accidentally skipping lines to the point where it feels like you’re reading ancient wizardry spells written for only the most talented of warlocks. while that is dramatic, it’s true.

“fuck it,” closing your book you begin to stand up when you hear the front door click open.

“els,” you breathe out, the worry washing away only to immediately return when you see the state she’s in. blood and dirt cake her entire body and face, clothes disheveled. rushing to her, you attempt to get the spaced out girl’s attention. you place both hands on her face, checking for any serious injuries.

“‘m fine babe. just some fuckin’ clickers ambushed us…” ellie mutters to you, seemingly in another world, completely out of it. whether it’s exhaustion or trauma or whatever, you’re not sure. regardless, you pull her to the couch and tell her to sit down.

“i promise i’m okay…let’s just get ready for bed,” she sighs to you but you refuse to listen to her.

“i said sit,” your sudden tone shift causes ellie to snap back to reality, slightly smirking as she sits down. “and take off your shoes.” you give her a small smile to backtrack your stern demand, and tell her to wait there as you rush to the bathroom to grab a washcloth. the adrenaline begins to wear off as the warm water washes over the cloth and your hands. blinking back the sudden tears you turn off the faucet, what if she wasn’t able to fend them off? you think. you’ve always known ellie to be able to care for herself and have the skills to take down anything and anyone, but what if one time she isn’t able to? all it takes is one time…

shaking your head you squeeze the excess water and head back to the couch. ellie was still sitting there, fidgeting with her hands, trying to get the dirt, or blood, out of her fingernails. feeling the couch dip she looks up at you, an emotion deep in her eyes that you can’t quite place.

“can i clean you up? is that okay?” you ask, receiving a curt nod in response. slowly and quietly you begin to wash off the muck on her face and hands. even though there’s no talking between the two of you, it’s not needed. the silence is comfortable.

after the final swipe you deem her cleaned up. placing the washcloth down you bring her face to look at you.

“there, all cleaned up,” you sigh, kissing her forehead “my beautiful girl.”

ellie smiles at you, bringing her hands up to hold onto your arms. ellie is always taking care of others to the point where she refuses to accept any help for herself. she doesn’t want to appear weak. however, when it comes to you, all her inhibitions disappear. she wants you to take of her, be there for her, but she would never admit it out loud. she knows she needs to fix that aspect of her, she’s still working on it, trust. nevertheless, you know deep down she needs it, whether she admits it out loud or not.

“let’s get you changed, yeah? wait here…again. don’t move!” you point at her, making it clear that you weren’t playing around. she chuckles softly and jokingly mumbles a “yes sir.”

as she waits for you to bring out fresh clothes she removes her flannel, left in just her dirty white tank top. she balls up the outer layer and throws it somewhere in the room, tomorrow’s problem, she thinks. her eyes are then caught by the dirty washcloth sitting on the floor next to her. a crease forms between her eyebrows as she thinks about you and only you, which is usually the case. you take up every aspect of her mind at all times. when on patrol she only thinks how she has to get back to you.

oh, she would love this, she thinks when seeing a flower on a walk.

god, i wish she was here, she’d make this interesting, she thinks when she’s stuck in a boring conversation with joel and tommy. 

interrupting her thoughts, you rush out with a big t-shirt and boxers for her to change into.

“thank you baby,” she takes a long pause, “i love you.” ellie says to you softly. a smile immediately creeps up onto your face, unable to hold it back. those three words haven’t been exchanged between you yet. well, you’ve said it, she hasn’t. after the time you’ve spent with ellie, you’ve realized she has a tough time with stating her feelings candidly. but, you just gave her time, knowing that’s what she needed.

“i love you, so much,” you reply giving her space to change quickly. as soon as she changes ellie has you in her arms and her lips are on yours. it’s soft and delicate, her hands cupping your face. pulling away you notice that same emotion from earlier in her eyes and realize exactly what it is, love. it’s love in her eyes.

she leads you to the bed and you fall together, cuddling into your scratchy, wool blanket. legs intertwined, you play with her hair, finding solace in the mundane moments with her, such as this. breaths synced, and just staring at each other, admiring the other’s beauty. you try to memorize her freckles, instinctively reaching up to draw constellations in them. she scrunches her nose and catches your hand to place soft kisses on your fingertips and knuckles. pulling you in closer she whispers, “i love you. i love you i love you i love you,” finally comfortable with speaking her feelings.

she kisses your face over and over again, and you feel heat rush to your cheeks. cuddling into her chest you slowly drift off to sleep to the sound of her strong heartbeat.

i love you.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #tlou fanfiction #ellie williams x female reader