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ponderingmoonlight · 7 months

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Levi being separated from his wife for years after joining the scouts but finding his way back to her

Pairing: husband!Levi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,7k

Synopsis: Just before Erwin was about to catch you in the underground city, Levi begs you to stay behind and promises to return. Years pass, years in which he never reached out once. Until an unexptected visitor knocks on your door.

Warnings: heavy angst to comfort, the last part is not proofread so have mercy, please let me know what you think as this is the second aot fanfic I'm posting <3

Tags: @lees-chaotic-brain @sanicsmut @levislegislation

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You move with almost frightening speed around the countless buildings, escaping the hands of the blonde male behind you by razor’s edge. Why the hell are the survey corps so much stronger than the military police? So skilled with the 3D manoeuvre gear that it’s almost scary, haunting after you so fast that it’s getting harder and harder to escape their grasps. But everything is going according to plan, right? You need to get yourself caught, you need to join the survey crops, you-

“Move to the left. Just keep going and don’t look back. You are skilled enough to escape them alone.”

Your glossy eyes dart towards your husband in disbelief. No, he can’t be serious about what he just said. That would mean…

“But we’ll get separated”, you argue.

Levi is fully aware of what he’s asking from you. But given the neck-breaking speed and the skills of the people behind you, the risk of getting caught is greater than the benefit of staying together. And that man…Even though he promised you the world, Levi could tell by the sound of his voice that he isn’t trustworthy. He might go to hell, he might die in the process, but you.

There is absolutely no way in hell he’ll risk your life.

At least you’d be safe, even if it means he’ll be away from you for some time.

“I never intended on taking you with me, (y/n). If we’ll get separated, I will come and find you here. I promise.”

His words don’t make any sense while you shake your head in mistrust. But you agreed on going together, all four of you. Why would you stay behind, why would he even suggest something like that?

“(y/n), I don’t want to lose you because of a mission. Please, move left.”

You don’t know what to do, mind completely clouded by anger, fear and uncertainty. You would trust your husband with everything, laying your life right into his hands. But this? This means you might never see again, this means he’ll leave you here for who knows how long, this means your husband could lose his life for freedom.

“But what if I lose you?”

“You will never lose me. I promise I’ll come back to you, just trust me with this one. I love you, (y/n).”

You take a deep breath, the next intersection coming closer and closer. It’s time to make a decision.

Will you move left like Levi begged you to or will you move right and followi him like you initially planned?

With a load of gas you propel yourself past a building, moving with horrendous speed down the tight side streets of the underground.

One last glance. One last glance into the eyes of the man who is the only light in your life, one last glance into the cold blue eyes of the man who is now chasing after him.

“You better come back to me, Levi Ackerman”, you mutter to yourself while holding back bitter tears.

-a few years later-

“Take it or leave it. I will find someone else who’ll buy it.”

“Are you up on sale too?”

That’s enough. With a swift motion, you pierce through the man’s dirty hand with your knife before turning around and leaving his house in company of his pathetic screams.

It’s been years. Years since Levi go taken away from you by that blonde man with blue eyes, years since he promised that he’ll come back.

But he never did. With fast and skilled motions, you swing around, making your way back home before the military police starts getting on your nerves again.

Everything seems so cold since he left. Your worn-down house, the bed you used to share, your whole fucking life. Who knows what happened after they got caught. Are all of them still alive? Maybe something went wrong, maybe they die-

No. You shake your head vehemently. This is simply not possible. Levi Ackerman would never die through the hands of a titan, let alone a member of the survey corps. That’s absolutely impossible, unbelievable to say the least. Maybe he started a new life on the surface with his friends, lying under the sun right now while eating the most exquisite food.

Good for him. If you weren’t still stuck in this hell.

A few harsh knocks on the door rip you out of your dreams.

“Who the hell is this?”, you grumble to yourself.

You don’t expect any visitors today. To be exact, you never expected anyone to visit you. So who could this be? The man you threatened before? The military police officers you stole from? Whatever, you will figure it out somehow.

But when you open the door, you aren’t greeted by the face of a disgusting officer. No, you stare right into ice-blue eyes.

“When will you finally let me get her?”

He missed you every single day since you parted your way back then in the underground city. How are you? What are you doing? Are you even alive? Levi’s hands clenched into fist just by the thought of it. Countless lonely night that felt so empty without you by his side, countless people he lost during the process. If you knew what happened…

“Is a woman really that important to you? She must be someone really special if you’re still asking about her”, Erwin commented, staring at the captain sitting in front of him with eagle eyes.

Yes, he does remember you. The girl who took the left path back then, the only one him and his squad weren’t able to catch.

“She is my wife. If you don’t allow me to get her, I will quit my service”, Levi suddenly barked at his commander.

How unexpected. Even though Erwin could tell that you’ve meant something to him when he decided to leave you in the underground city, he never thought his relations to you would go that deep.

“Fine, if that’s what you wish I’ll go and escort her.”

“I will get her myself-“

“You have a job to do, remember? I will take Moblit with me, it shouldn’t take long, given she cooperates.”

Did he even have a choice? One look into Erwin’s face showed him more than urgent that this is nothing to be discussed. And even though he hates to admit it, somehow Erwin is right. These brats were unpredictable, along with Hange.

“Fine”, Levi finally grumbled.

As long as you’ll finally be back in his arms, he won’t complain.

“You”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

Your whole body begins to tremble in thick rage, eyes darting right through his spoiled soul. His eyes haunted you in your dreams, how he talked to your husband back then, how they pushed his gorgeous face into the dirt. You will never forgive him. No, nothing in the world could make you forgive the blonde man in front of you who stole your life away from you so cruel.

“Where is Levi?”

“Maybe if you calm down-“

“SHUT UP”, you immediately interrupt the other man behind him.

“You will pay for all these fucking years I had to live without him. You will pay for every sleepless night, for every tear that I cried. You will pay with your own pathetic life!”

With a swift motion, you lower the knife out of your sleeve, ready to hit his carotid artery with full force.

Until you suddenly fall to the ground, the last thing you are able to see being this asshole’s boots before everything turns black…

“I…hate…y-“

Silence, darkness, nothingness.

“You didn’t have to hit her this hard. Levi will definitely make you pay for punching his wife”, Erwin comments dryly before gently lifting your numb body over his shoulder.

“His wife, huh? No wonder she’s so feisty, what a pain in the ass”, Moblit remarks.

“I understand her anger. After all, I hid her husband for multiple years from her. Let’s see how she acts when she wakes up…”

-back at the base camp-

“Who’s this woman?”, Eren mumbles into his best friend’s ear, staring at the lifeless female body laying in front of Erwin’s feet.

“They just came back with her. But nobody seems to know who she is”, Armin clarifies.

Everything hurts. Your back, your head, your limbs feel like falling off every second. You feel like hit by a horse…Did the military police catch you? Did someone come for you? Impossible…

You rub your head, lids blinking against the harsh light. Where the hell are you? And why is it so damn bright here? This definitely isn’t the candle in the middle of your bedroom.

You lift your trembling limbs off the ground, groaning when a new wave of nausea rolls over you. God, why do you feel so bad? You can’t even remember what happened last. You were at the underground, you made a deal with that asshole, you returned home, it knocked.

It knocked.

Your eyes widen in pure horror when his face lights up in your head. He. He was there. The man who stole your life from you, the man who took your husband with him.

“I’m glad you’re awake, he should return every minute-“

“You.”

Your eyes roam around without an aim until his cold blue eyes meet yours.

“You took everything from me!” you scream on top of your lungs.

The air around you heats up immediately, all the voices quieting down in an instant when your trembling index finger darts towards commander Erwin Smith.

“You took my life from me, you stole my husband and now you kidnap me! I’ve had enough, you’ll pay for all your sins, for how miserable you made my life! Do you know how many lonely nights I begged for him to return, that I even started praying for him to come back home to me? You promised freedom but caged me to the underground in my hopeless dream of him returning someday!”

Again, you shoot towards him with your knife in your hand. Fuck, you hate the way hot tears start to sting in your eyes and take your sight, but you can’t help yourself. This man in front of you is the epitome of living hell, the reason you suffered all these goddamn years. You aim for his neck, ready to slice him open like a fish along with a toe-curling scream that escapes your trembling lips.

“Don’t.”

The sheer force of a pair of fingers wrapped around your wrist is enough to make you stop. This almost sounded like…

“Levi.”

“I have to explain all this to you calmly. Please put down your knife, (y/n).”

“You have some fucking nerve”, you mutter under your breath, eyes darting towards him for the first time in years.

He looks just like you remember him, figure roaming over you for a few inches, eyes as calm as the ocean, hair neatly trimmed. Yes, he is just as attractive as you remembered.

And alive.

And this is the first time you see him, after so many years.

“Where have you been all this time, huh?”, you cry out.

You free yourself out of his grasp, now storming towards him.

“What about the promise you made back then, that you’ll return to me?”

Your hands push against his firm chest harshly, fists slamming over and over against his tight muscles while all he does is standing there.

“You left me without saying goodbye, without even thinking about me twice. Do you know how much I cried that day, how much I missed my fucking husband?”

Tears stream down your face like a waterfall, voice so hoarse that it’s hard to cough out a single word that makes sense.

“Why didn’t you come back? Why did you leave me in the dark? Why-“

He can’t hold back any longer. Before you continue your ramblings, before you are able to hit him again, Levi wraps his arms around you and buries his face in the crook of your neck. God, how much he missed this, how much he missed the simplicity of holding his wife in his arms.

“I love you, (y/n)”, he breathes against your ear.

You see stars, feel like fainting, want to push him away while all you want is to be held at the same time. Countless nights you imagined what it would be like to meet him again, countless nights you pondered about his life, where he might live, what he is doing.

And now he’s standing in front of you, pressing you tightly against his firm body while all you can do is break down and cry in his inviting arms.

“Back then, I have asked you to move left because I feared what lies behind the walls. And I was right, (y/n). The things I saw, the countless lives the titans took. Isabel and Furan, they… They died on our first expedition. It wasn’t safe to drag you into this world. Even if I wanted nothing more than to hold you in my arms again, I figured it would be easier to know you live as far away from the titans and me than being in danger…”

“You idiot”, you spit into the face you learned to love long ago.

“I would rather die by your side than live alone at the safest place. Don’t you understand that all I wanted was to be with you?”

Your words echo through his mind, the past years replaying themselves in front of his eyes like a movie. It’s been so damn long. He should have asked about getting you sooner, he should have moved hell and earth to get you out of the underground.

“I’m sorry about all those years, (y/n). You were the only thing on my mind this whole time, I was longing for your touch, for your presence. I wrote a list of things I want to show you. I know how much I’m asking for, but please forgive me, please be by my side right here and now.”

Is it really this simple? Is one look in his lovely face enough to forget all those years you’ve waited for him? Your heart pounds hard against your ribcage, all pairs of eyes seem to be set on you. What are you supposed to do?

“A simple sorry won’t take away all those years I’ve waited for you.”

Levi swallows hard, this usual cool composure slowly but surely breaking away. Fuck, he messed up. He should have gone after you immediately, he should have ignored Erwin’s advice. If you leave him right here on the spot…His eyes widen in thick fear. No, this would completely tear him apart. After all, you are his precious wife, the love of his life, the only reason he kept going despite all the people that died in front of his eyes.

“But I won’t live in the past with regrets. I was hoping forward for this day so long, let’s enjoy it.”

And then you return his hug, wrapping your arms around his ribcage like you used to. Levi lets himself fall into your touch, soaks in the decent smell of citrons on your clothes. God, how much he missed this, how much he missed you.

“We will never return to the underground, my darling. Your place is right here under the sun.”

You press your lips against his hungrily, soaking up this precious moment. This is exactly how you imagined your reunion. Maybe a few years earlier, maybe being escorted by himself. But god, you can’t help but get lost against his mouth, your fingers re-discovering the valleys of his well-toned body.

“Huh, what’s going on here? HUH, DID I MISS SOMETHING!?”

Levi slowly removes his lips from yours, cold eyes staring darkly behind you. You follow his gaze, looking directly into the way too near face someone wearing glasses.

“This is my wife, shitty four-eyes. Can you stop bothering her?”

“WHAT? You never mentioned anything about a wife! Oh, what a gorgeous woman she is! And you’re just as small as Levi himself. Huh, maybe that’s what comes with living under the ground, right? But don’t worry, you will be just fine here! Apart from some titans here and there, and maybe titan shifters and don’t forget those-“

“Shut.Up.”, Levi hisses through gritted teeth.

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lizzyk137 · 3 months

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Picture Perfect- A Sepencer Reid Fanfic (Spencer Reid X Reader)

Summary: After months of not hearing from Spencer you move on, breaking both of your hearts. What he wasn't expecting was a frantic call from you one night. Warnings: Fluff, slight panic.

Want to read more, visit my Masterlist!

"Spence, please tell me you're going home after this." JJ said, eyes squinted as she watched him fiddle with stuff on his desk.

He cleared his throat and nodded before answering. "I will. I just want to make sure everything is ready for when I come back into work tomorrow."

"Are you thinking it's going to be a long night?" Morgan interjected jokingly.

Spencer just rolled his eyes and went back to making sure everything was in its proper spot.

Rossi came down the stairs and headed towards the small gathering that as forming around Spencer. His brows raised at Spencer dawdling. "Still avoiding things?"

"No, I'm just straightening up before leaving for the day."

"Reid, we're profilers, we know you're avoiding going home." Rossi smirked. "Go home, she's waiting for you."

"Fine, I will." Spencer collected his belongings and headed to the elevators knowing his team was watching him go. He headed towards the bus stop after being cleared to leave, his thoughts going a mile a minute.

He had been away for seven months working at the Las Vegas's FBU headquarters, helping train and work on cases. It at first started off as a case the whole team was invited in but as time went on trying to catch a team of killers, Spencer enjoyed being near his mom and decided to take on mentoring for a few months. He thought it was a smart move, but he never took into account of one thing. You.

He left one day then never came back. That was how you saw it. He didn't answer his phone for three weeks, his head focused solely on catching the monsters behind all the killings. All you had gotten back as a reply from the many calls and texts was a few sentences telling you that he would be staying there for a few months and that he was okay. At first you were okay with the decision, knowing what he was doing was for the good of the city and that what he was teaching was saving lives. But the texts and calls started to slow down and eventually you would count yourself lucky if he answered you back a week later.

Spencer was so busy helping on cases that he would forget to text you back, but he thought you understood. It wasn't until he came home to find the shared apartment empty of your belongings. At first, he was frantic, searching for you everywhere, but that turned to desperation and then quickly turned to a broken heart. You wouldn't reply back to any of his calls or texts, and he tried to get Penelope to find you, which he gave him a hard no a stern glare before turning back to her computers.

He didn't understand what he did wrong until the team pulled him to the side and explained it.

You were hurt by him. The replies became nonexistent, and you gave up trying to make things work.

He was a fool. A stupid fool.

He was almost home when his phone rang from an unknown caller. He ignored it and continued walking from the bus stop to his apartment when the phone rang again from the same number. Sighing, he answered and put it to his ear. "Hello?" The voice that answered made his feet stop.

"Spence?" You called out after a few moments of silence, your voice breathy.

He cleared his throat. "Y/N?"

"Spence... I need help... Please come..." He heard a loud crash, his heart stopping.

"Y/N, where are you? I'm on the way." His feet had already started racing to his parked car.

You gasped out the address, as he started the car racing to you. He made it to the apartment within a few minutes, drawing his gun as he made it up the stairs to the apartment. He heard another crash from inside, and before he could think, his foot was kicking in the door, and he was clearing the room. He saw you on the floor, your back to him as he heard you cry out in pain.

He was by your side in a second as he turned you slowly over, your large belly coming into frame. His eyes went wide as you looked at him, tears in your eyes as you clutched his arm.

"What's going on?" His eyes searching your face for answers.

"Hospital. I need go." You said through gritted teeth as your grip tightened on his arms.

Spencer quickly shook his head, and then cleared his throat. He helped you up onto your feet, grabbing the purse and diaper bag by the door that you directed him to get. He quickly locked up to find you trying to make your way down the stairs, if he wasn't in such a shock, he would laugh at you as you waddled around.

You grabbed the railing and cried out. He was by your side in a second, picking you up bridal style and carrying you out the door.

"Any news?" Hotch asked, as he sat down next to Spencer in the hospital's waiting room.

"No, they're running some tests, so I stepped out." Spencer was crouched down, his elbows on his knees his eyes focused on his clasped hands and the ground.

He had been struggling the past three hours to come up with answers that were already answered. The baby was his and you tried so hard to tell him but when he stopped replying you left to start the next step in your life alone.

Everyone knew but him. They had visited you daily to make sure you were okay, and they became your family, the only thing that was missing was Spencer. You knew you needed him; you were still in love with him, but he hurt you and you needed more than just an apology.

"Has it happened?!" He heard Penelope's voice scream as he looked up to see a giant pile of balloons headed his way.

"Not yet they're running some tests."

"Oh good! I can't miss out on our baby's arrival."

Another hour went by, and Reid was called to go into one of the hospital rooms. He lingered by the door for a second before pushing the door in to find you lying in bed, a beautiful sweaty mess as you reached out to him. His hand quickly found yours and he brought it to his lips. "How are you feeling?

"I'm feeling better after taking the epidural." A minute went by before you continued, your voice a whisper. "I'm still mad at you. You left for so long and no word. But I can't do this without you."

Spencer brought your hand to his cheek. "I know baby. I'm never leaving you again. I've been a wreck without you. You and our baby are my first priority."

You just nodded. "We have a lot to discuss later but I'm getting sleepy."

"Get some rest, my love."

Seven hours and two broken fingers later, Spencer was watching his daughter and son swaddled as they slept, their hands holding each other's.

"They're perfect." JJ cooed.

Rossi wiped a small tear from his eye, as he gave a big pat on Spencer's back. The team had been watching the babies for about an hour as you slept.

"You're going to be a good father." Hotch smiled at Spencer before lightly touching Spencer's son's hand.

"I hope so." He looked at his kids, his daughter yawning slightly, tears filling his eyes as he realized how lucky he was. He never thought he would have kids, he thought he would never see you again, never thought you would allow him back into your life. He knew things were probably going to be rocky, a lot of conversations were going to be needed, but you had said you wanted him in your life along with being with his children.

"Spencer?" Your voice called out and him and the team looked up to see you with a big smile, your phone pointed at them as you took a photo of them. "Picture perfect."

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid scenarios #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #reid #criminal minds fanfiction

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bouncybongfairy · 8 months

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Late Night At Fazbear's

Mike Schmidt x Fem Reader

Summary: Mike is an ex-coworker with whom you have a situationship with. Knowing about your interest in arcade games, he invites you to visit him at an abandoned pizzeria to check it out. Things get a little heated before you get a chance to look around.

Word Count: 2.5k+

(!This is a smut fanfic, you’ve been warned!)

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

You were working on some last-minute statistics homework after you got out of the shower. It was a Friday night and even though you got an offer from your friend group to go out, you decided to stay home. Going to house party after party was getting annoying. Half the time, the only people there were drunk frat boys trying to get some before their whiskey dick kicked in. Being a wing girl for your friends was fun the first thirty times but now you’d rather stay home. Things in your life seemed so stagnant, it was like all you did was school, work, then bumming it at home. Like you were some uncharismatic dad in a sitcom. Suddenly your phone goes off, which breaks you out of the trance you were in. When you answered, you immediately recognized the voice to be Mike from the pizza place you guys used to work at together. You thought it was kinda weird that he was calling you so randomly but you did talk often when working together. For reasons that still are unclear, you answered.

“Hey! Sorry I know this is- it’s kinda random but can you talk for a second?” his voice spoke over the receiver.

“Yeah, I’m just hanging out at home. What’s up?” you asked, now standing up to pace around your room.

“Oh cool cool, so kinda weird to explain but bear with me here. Remember how you were super obsessed with the old arcade games we had in the back of the pizza shop? Anyway, I got this new job at an old pizzeria and there’s a bunch of old games and animatronics. I was thinking while I’m working the graveyard shift you could maybe swing by for an hour or two and check it out with me?” His voice was so sweet and soft-spoken that you couldn’t help but blush over the phone. You coiled your finger around the wire of the landline.

“Umm, yeah that sounds kinda fun actually, when are you there till?” you asked with a hint of a smirk on your face.

“My shift starts at 12 am and ends at 6 am, no pressure. Obviously, I’ll be here all night,” he laughed.

“Yeah, I’ll call you right before I leave okay?” you asked softly.

“Yeah that’s perfect, I’ll see you then,” he said.

You put the phone back on its hook and check the time on your alarm clock. To your dismay, you’d been studying for two hours and it was 10:50. Luckily you’d already showered but that wasn’t the problem. Internally, you were going through a moral dilemma. Part of you was telling yourself that he was just a coworker that got attached and another part, wanted to do your hair and make-up and hair before going. Making sure that every strand sat just right as if he’d somehow notice. To make sure your eyelashes have the exact amount of mascara they need to be long but not clumpy. If you thought all these things, wouldn’t that mean you do care what he thinks of you? Although you were bubbling with a mix of nervousness and anticipation, you managed to finish getting ready. You start packing your bag, pacing around looking for all your items. Car keys, pocket knife, compact, body spray, and your wallet. As you went to take the cartoon of cigarettes from your bedside table, you thought about taking the joint that was rolled. Sitting on your knees in front of your nightstand, you start dialing Mike’s number to let him know you are on the way. After shoving all the contents into the bag, you make your way outside and start your Mazda. You were sitting in the car for a few moments, thinking about if you were really going.

Once you pulled into the parking lot, thoughts of regret started to bubble in your brain. You would have turned around if it weren’t for Mike’s car being in the parking lot. You checked the time on the radio and saw that it was only 12:57, was it weird that you were there so early? You were slightly worried that it would look desperate. Deciding to let that unneeded anxiety go, you get out of the car and lock your doors. Take a moment to take in the outside of the building. It appeared to be severely unkempt, brown vines covered most of the building. Due to the unsettling vibe of the building, the bear that was supposed to look cute and inviting was the exact opposite. Creating an ominous feeling as it waved at you. The walls were mostly a dull yellow color with red and blue accents and a black and white checkered line across the middle. One of the R’s of the sign was out, only adding to the sketchy feeling. You knocked on the big metal doors, wiping your knuckles off on your jeans. When Mike swung the door open, it made you jump and gasp. This caused him to break out into a fit of laughter. You playfully pushed his shoulder back.

He took you back to the small room where he was monitoring all the security footage. The room was more creepy than the outside of the building. You sat down on the desk and Mike plopped down on his office chair. He was completely slouched back, wearing a gray thermal and a dark hooded sweater. His hair was more curly than shaggy and he had a five o’clock shadow. You set your purse on the desk and stood up, looking at the security cameras. One of the first things you noticed was the group of animatronics that were standing on the stage together. It was then that you realized what you really had gotten yourself into.

He was surprised that you even came, yes you guys had become close while working together but he didn’t think it would lead to anything after. You were currently facing away from him, and he couldn’t help but admire you as you did so. He liked the fact that you were so well put together. Your jeans were fitted perfectly and your thong peaked out slightly from the top of your waistband. When you entered the small room, the entire space began to smell like apple-scented perfume. The white long sleeve was also very fitted, which brought attention to your figure. You turned around once you noticed it had been silent for a while. Grabbing your purse, you pull out the cartoon of cigs. Bringing the lighter to it and taking a drag to light it. After taking a couple of puffs you pass it to Mike who leans forward with a groan. As he took his hit, a piece of ash fell onto his pants. You leaned down and brushed it off his knee.

“So much for cutting back right?” he asked rhetorically.

“Oh yeah, I did switch to Spirits though. My grandma swore by these,” you said taking it back.

“Do you smoke weed?” he asked, you laughed and started digging through your bag and pulled out the Altoids container, grabbing the joint.

“Will you get in trouble? For like, smoking on the job?” you asked.

“Oh no, this place is abandoned. There’s usually nobody in and out of here that would notice,” he said.

You lit the joint and took a deep drag, blowing the smoke at his face playfully. He laughed as he took the joint into his hands and inhaled. You put the cig out on the glass ashtray that sat on the desk. He commented on how good the flower tasted which made you relieved knowing he didn’t think it was reggie. You guys started talking about memories of working together. You guys would always take smoke breaks together and go to lunch every once and a while. Mike actually listened to what you had to say. He wasn’t the type of person that constantly changed to a conversation with himself. A lot of guys you spoke with were usually just telling you whatever you wanted to hear. Everything you had to say was so fascinating and impressive because they were just trying to butter you up. Mike would actually give his opinions on things and would tell you if he thought what you were saying was stupid. It was refreshing, to be honest, to have an interaction with the opposite sex without them drooling on you. You glanced over at Mike, maybe it was the weed but something felt different now. The way his legs were spread so widely made something in you feel hot. Eyes were now bloodshot, making the hazel color stand out even more than before. When he reached for the joint again, his hand brushed over yours. This made you make eye contact with him but then break away once the awkwardness set in. You looked down and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Are you still with Jackson?” he asked.

“What? Oh yeah, we broke up a while ago,” you said, rubbing your arm.

“Well, what happened? I mean… If you don’t mind me asking,” he said.

“No it’s- he just..” you took a deep inhale and spoke as the smoke poured out of your mouth, “he was really aggressive like, not just with his words. Not saying he beat me or anything but some things are meant to be more sweet and gentle. Sorry, I don’t know why I'm telling you this,” you said, passing it back.

“No, I’m the one who brought it up. He always was a little misogynistic when we talked, I’m sorry you were subjected to that,” he said. You were sitting on the desk, you kicked off your sandals and gently swung your legs back and forth.

“Yeah, I guess it just wasn’t meant to be,” you sighed.

“For sure, you could do so much better than that,” he said.

“Oh yeah? When you say better what do you mean by that?” you asked, leaning over to grab the joint.

“Like if you said he was overly aggressive then you’ll find someone that is more gentle and shit,” he said, chuckling a little.

“Oh, I see,” you moved your foot so that it was resting on his inner thigh before continuing, “Maybe you could show me?” you asked flirtatiously, he looked up and looked at you with a shocked expression.

You used your leg to roll him closer to where you were sitting. He was now smirking, looking up at you. He let his hands slide up both your outer thighs. He pulled you off the desk so that you were now sitting in his lap facing him. You still had the joint in your hand, you took a hit before letting it sit on the ashtray. Your noses were touching and you were relieved to see that his breath was as fast as yours. Running your fingers through his hair, forcing his head to tilt back a little. You ran your bottom lip across his, arching your back and pressing your crotches together. He picked you up which caused you to wrap your legs around his waist. He set you on the desk again so that he was standing, hovering over you. You reached your hands down between your bodies, trying to unbuckle his belt. He stopped the kiss and chuckled at your eagerness and helped you. As you unzipped his jeans, one of his arms reached behind you and undid the clasps of your bra. The way he unhooked it with one hand made you throb. He pulled your shirt over your head, leaving you in nothing but jeans. He still had his jeans on but now that his pants were undone, you could feel how hard he was through his boxers. It was like the heat coming off his dick was making your stomach feel warm and tight. Before he buried his face into your chest, the look on his face was almost primal. Like it was taking everything he had to keep his hands off of you. He took one of your breasts into his mouth and sucked, biting down every once in a while. He reached into his backpack that was sitting on the desk and pulled out a condom. He was breathing heavily and a couple of drips of sweat were beading down his forehead. As you unzipped your jeans you looked over at the security camera and thought you saw one of the animatronics move from the stage. You pulled away for a second to show him,

“Mike, I know we smoked and everything. Oh my god, I know this is going to be crazy but I swear I just saw one of those… things moved,” you said as he trailed kisses up your shoulder.

“This is my third day here and I think that all the time. It’s just your head playing tricks on us because of how creepy they look,” he said, then tearing the foil package open.

“Are you sure because I could have..” you started but then were interrupted by Mike throwing the still-packaged condom onto the desk and pressing a button that made both doors close around you. He then got down on his knees and gripped the top of your jeans, pulling them down. Instead of trying to pull your panties off of you, he simply pulls them to the side. Sticking his tongue in between your folds, massaging your clit. You had been in a dry spell since you broke up with Jackson and even then, he would never go down on you. The feeling of his mouth pressed against you was so euphoric, the moans that came out of your mouth were completely natural and unrehearsed. His pace was slow but he kept a steady rhythm which helped you chase to your climax. Instead of pulling at his hair, you cupped his face, gently stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. He looked up and made direct eye contact with you. His eyebrows were furrowed but when he saw the look on your face, his eyes closed and he groaned loudly. He grabbed your ankles and pushed your legs back so that your feet were now on the desk. You grabbed two fistfuls of hair and threw your head back, moaning loudly. The pressure of the top of your thighs being pressed into your lower stomach. Crying out as you cum, the moans came out strangled. As you started to come down from the wave of ecstasy, you began to feel insecure about how fast he made you cum.

“God you are so fucking hot, like seriously I almost came in my boxers,” he said standing up and grabbing the condom. His lips were parted and his mouth was still covered in saliva. Without wiping his mouth, he slid the rubber onto his shaft.

“Sorry, do you want to keep going?” he asked, you didn’t verbally respond. Instead, you grabbed him by his shirt and smashed your mouth into his. He moaned the word ‘fuck’ into your mouth before continuing kissing. He broke away to look down and line himself up with your entrance. You were still wet and swollen from the previous orgasm, enabling him to slide in with you easily. He dropped his forehead down on your shoulder, mouth open and moaning as he slowly started rocking back and forth into you. You scooted your ass down so that you could fully be pressed against his hips. The desk was continuously banging up against the wall. Your foreheads were now pressed together groaning and growling into each other’s mouth. Everything suddenly came to a halt when everything went dark. You both jump and start looking for any articles of clothing that are nearby. The big metal doors on both sides of you slam open so loud, that your ears start ringing.

“What the fuck just happened!” you exclaim.

“The battery died,” he realizes.

“Well has that ever happened while you’re working?” you asked.

“No,” he stated.

“Holy fuck, do you hear that fucking music?” you whispered.

#fnaf fanfic #josh hutcherson fnaf #fnaf x reader #mike schmidt fnaf #mike schmidt x reader #michael schmidt #michael schmidt x y/n #mike schmidt

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seunmong-in · 2 months

Text

🌅Sunsets in Sydney🌅

Genre: Fluff, childhood best friend to lovers, Idol! Felix x Reader, Humor, slight cursing, she fell first but he fell harder.

Words: 2.1k

Summary: After being on tour for a whole year, Felix is finally back in Sydney for a well-deserved break. While he is ecstatic to be with his family again, there’s one person who he wants to see most. His childhood best friend and crush, Y/N.

A/n: Okay, can I start this off by saying, Holy crap… Thank you to all who like or reblogged my first fanfic with Han!! ( click his name if you wanna read it ! ) I honestly thought it wasn’t that good since I wrote it in a very sleep-deprived state, lol. But y’all proved me wrong🥹❤️‍🩹 That said, I hope you guys also like this story with Felix! Like always, if you have any feedback or want to make a special request just DM me!! Here’s also my latest one with Seungmin as well 🫶🏼

P.S Does anyone else have “that’s not very nice” stuck in their head too?

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365 days.

That's how long Felix has been away from the place he calls home. And no, he doesn't mean his actual home back in Sydney. He means being away from his childhood best friend, Y/n.

Felix and Y/n have been best friends since grade school. They have always been there for each other, from performing in talent shows to caring for each other when one falls ill. They are like two peas in a pod; wherever one goes, the other is sure to follow.

On the day Felix had to tell Y/n that he was leaving Sydney to become an idol in Korea, he broke down crying. He was worried that being thousands of miles away from his closest friend would strain their relationship. As he was about to board the plane, he turned around to see Y/n waving goodbye to him with tears streaming down her face, and he couldn't help but cry, too.

Surprisingly, Felix and Y/n's friendship didn't end after that day. Instead, their bond grew even stronger. Y/N would constantly update Felix through text or calls, sharing the details of her day and making sure he didn't miss out on anything important. While Felix enjoyed receiving these updates, what he loved most was the pictures his mom would send him of Y/n with his family on small family trips. Seeing her smile and taking selfies with his sisters always warmed his heart.

He had already surpassed the stage of simply developing feelings for Y/n. Felix adored her. He loved her. Whenever he watched a video of a couple on TikTok or Instagram, he imagined how to recreate the same videos with Y/n by his side. His heart skipped when Y/n surprised him at one of his earlier concerts with Olivia and Hannah, Chan's sister. The memory of her dancing his part of God's Menu while Hannah danced Chan's part on the big screen was something he would never forget. Since that night, Felix had been planning to confess his love to Y/n, and he decided to do it under the sunset in Sydney.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽

Under the hot summer sun, Felix's freckled face is lit up with a big smile as his family rushes to greet him. Olivia is the first to embrace him, screaming, "Oh my God, do you even know how I miss you, Lix?!"

Felix laughed, embracing his youngest sister and repeating, "I miss you more." He noticed that Olivia had grown a bit since the last time he saw her and that her hair was now dyed at the ends. Noticing her brother staring at her hair, Olivia mentioned that Y/N did it a few days ago at one of their usual girls' nights. His mom and dad were the next two to hug him tightly, with his mom shedding a few happy tears.

"I say this every time, but I am so happy to have my baby back home."

Felix wraps his arms around his mom, hugging her as he says, "I am happy to be back home to Mom."

Felix was sitting in the back of a car, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of Y/n. He was waiting for her message, asking if he had reached home safely, but he had yet to receive any message from her. Although this was unusual, he assumed she might be busy.

Suddenly, Olivia abruptly interrupts Felix's train of thought, "So, are you finally going to ask Y/n to be your girlfriend while you're here, or are we still sticking to the whole 'she's just my best friend' excuse?" The unexpected question catches Felix off guard. His face turns red with embarrassment as his mother turns her head around from the passenger seat, waiting for a response.

Avoiding eye contact with his mother and sister, Felix clears his throat, allowing himself to find the right words.

"Um.. what makes you think I even have feelings for her?"

Olivia stares at her older brother, scolding him with his earlier response, "Felix be so fucking for real right now. It's obvious you have feelings for Y/n. You look at her as if she is your whole world, your face lights up with a smile whenever she texts you, and you always seem to find a way to talk about her when we talk on the phone. If that doesn't scream, "I am in love with my best friend," then I don't know what does. Oh, and before you go and argue with me about this, even the boys agree that you are completely strung up on her. So do us all a favor and tell her how you feel, will you?"

Felix sighs as he looks up to see his sister's gaze. He knew he had to come clean now before his plans got ruined.

"Have I mentioned how much I dislike you sometimes, Liv?"

"Yeah, but I'm your favorite sister, so start spilling before I call Hyunjin and have him tell Y/n to you."

During the last five minutes of their car ride, Felix confided in his family about his plan to ask Y/n out when they reached the house. He made them promise not to say anything to Y/n about his plan since he wanted to create a memorable and private moment between them.

As Felix's father pulled into the driveway, Felix noticed Y/n's car parked across the street. His heart raced as he jumped out of the car, ignoring his mother's yelling about not going inside yet.

Felix barges through the main door and stops when he sees the handmade "Welcome Home Lixie" banner that Y/n was struggling to put up. He chuckles softly and leans by the living room doorway, watching as she gets on her tiptoes to hook the string onto the nail.

"You know, I could've helped you put up the banner, sunshine if you would've waited a little longer."

Y/n turns around to find Felix smirking. Blushing, she runs to him and hugs him. He hugs her back, lifting her up and spinning her around.

Trying not to cry on his shoulders, Y/n ever so softly whispers, "You have no idea how much I missed your hugs, Lix."

"Me too, sunshine, it's been way too long."

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⋅•⋅⊰∙∘

After returning home and having dinner early, Felix went upstairs to his room. There, he discovered a welcome-home basket in the center of his bed. The basket contained his favorite candies, face masks, a small chicken plushie, and gift cards to his preferred places. Felix smiled, realizing that it was a gift from Y/n. She was always the type to spoil others with gifts, even if it was a small occasion. Looking through the gifts in the basket, he heard a soft knock on the door, and Y/n walked in. When Felix looked up at her, they locked eyes for the second time that day. Time seemed to come to a standstill, and after a while, Y/n was the first to break the silence.

"I hope you like it; I saw it on Tiktok late last night and thought I should make you one."

"I love it a lot; thank you, sunshine."

He gives her a soft smile and motions for her to sit with him on the bed. She walks over and sits beside him, watching him unwrap more gifts. Y/n can't help but laugh as Felix brings the chicken plushie up to his face, jokingly asking, "Do you think it looks like me?"

"As much as I want to say yes, I feel like I am going betray BbokAri, so I must lie and say no."

Felix and Y/n laugh as Felix places the plushie back on the shelf behind him. The room lights up in a golden hue, indicating the sun is about to set. Without wasting more time, Felix takes Y/n's hand and leads her out of his room and towards his car.

"Lix, what are you doing? Where are we going?"

"I was hoping we could watch the sunset together again, just like we did as kids. It's been quite some time since the last time we did, and let's face it, we're not getting any younger. Before we know it, we'll be as old as old man Chan."

""I'm going to tell him you said that," she says, laughing as she follows him to his car. They both jump in and drive to the nearby beach.

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As the car pulled onto the sandy shore, Felix practically flew out of his side to open the door for Y/n. She beamed with delight as she stepped out, feeling the warm sand under her toes. Felix swiftly closed the car door and took her hand, leading her towards the beach. The sky was ablaze with a breathtaking display of pink and orange hues as the sun descended below the horizon.

"I forgot how pretty the sunset could be when you can see the reflection on the water."

"I know, but it's even prettier with you beside me," Felix responds.

Y/n stands before Felix, unsure if he is joking or serious. He chuckles as she becomes flustered.

"You know that's not very nice."

"What isn't sunshine?"

"You saying that to me and not explaining what you mean," Y/n states as she turns away from him.

Felix grabs Y/n by her waist and spins her, holding her close. Y/n's face flushes a deep shade of pink as she catches her breath. They've been close for years, but something feels different about this moment. There's a palpable tension in the air, a feeling of unspoken love that's hard to ignore. Felix looks deep into Y/n's eyes, examining how the sun's warm glow illuminates them. The sound of waves crashing against the shore adds to the moment's magic. Fighting the urge to kiss her immediately, Felix takes a deep breath as he stares into her eyes.

"Do you remember why I decided to return home for a break instead of staying in the dorms with the boys?" Puzzled by his random question, Y/n nods her head, looking back into his dark brown eyes.

"Of course I do. It was because you wanted to be with your family since you were homesick, Lix."

"You're right. But there's something important that I need to tell you, something that should've been said from the very beginning. Y/n, I like you. I'm in love with you. I love you so much that it hurts not to have you by my side most days or even to call you mine. The night before I left Sydney, I intended to confess my feelings to you, but I knew it was bad timing since I was leaving, and I didn't want to end our friendship. So, I kept it to myself for years. However, seeing you with Liv and Hannah at our concert earlier this year, dancing and singing to our songs, made me realize that what I felt for you was more than just a simple grade school crush. Y/n, I'd be lying if I said you weren't the person I want to spend the rest of my life with because I do. I want you to be mine, my only sunshine. And if you don't feel the same way, I understand..."

Felix was toward the end of his sentence when Y/n suddenly cut him off by pressing her lips against his. It was a bold move, but she had been crushing on Felix for what felt like an eternity and couldn't hold back any longer. When they finally pulled away, Felix looked at Y/n with a knowing smile, pressing his forehead on hers. In a very soft voice, Felix finally finishes his sentence.

"I cannot imagine spending a single day without you by my side anymore. Will you do me the greatest honor of all and be mine forever?

""Until forever stops existing, my love."

#stray kids #straykids imagines #straykids smau #stray kids fake texts #stray kids x reader #straykids fluff #lee felix #lee yongbok #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz fluff #skz fanfic #skz stay #skz x y/n #skz smau #stray kids imagine

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charmedbystars · 11 months

Note

can u do a fanfic for e-42 miles based on Super Shy by Newjeans 🙏🏽 the song is like REALLYY CUTE AND I CANT STOP LISTENING TO IT 😣😣

e-42 miles x shy reader

summary: y/n's mind is constantly processing on how to not be awkward around miles.

content: no warnings!

a/n: both of these asks were similar so i just decided to make it into one! these requests r so sweet. thank u anon🥹🥹. also I AGREE SUPER SHY BY NEW JEANS IS SO ADDICTIVE AND THE CHOREO IS SO CUTE!!

sitting with your friends at lunch, you peeked over your shoulder to take a look at the cute boy standing with his friends. nobody knew how badly the girl wanted to make a move and claim him as hers, but there was no way of that happening.

you were fairly new to brooklyn and visions academy. you’ve been there for a couple months and settled in fine. on your first day of school, some girl approached you and invited you to sit with her and her friends at lunch. you weren’t the most outgoing person, so you were glad that someone reached out before you had to.

“so y/n, do you think anyone is cute at this school?” one of your friends, layla, asked you.

that snapped you from your thoughts, turning your head to look at your friends staring at you expectantly. you opened your mouth to say something before closing it again. you were way too scared for it to get out, not that you didn’t trust your friends, you just didn’t want anyone to overhear or constantly be teased by it. shaking your head ‘no’ your friends just went back to the conversation they were having.

you sighed, looking over your shoulder once more before going back to eating your lunch. the rest of lunch zoomed by and you went to your next class. you had biology with miles, being one of the two classes you had with him. you sat three rows behind him, most classes staring at the back of his head. he’s never turned around or noticed, you’re pretty sure he doesn’t even know you exist.

sitting in class, you just listened to the teacher explain the direction for a project she was assigning. it was a partner project that she would be assigning. hearing her call out names, your head snapped when you heard your name being followed by miles’ name. you couldn’t believe it. this was gonna be so bad because he made you nervous, you just imagine the whole thing being awkward. you starting shuffling the stuff on your desk, making space for miles who was walking over. he pulls up a chair and slides it across from you, the desk being in between you guys. you didn’t want to make eye-contact so you just played with your hands and bit your lips. miles raised a brow at your behavior thinking it was cute, while your thoughts were going crazy thinking you bombed your only opportunity.

“i’m miles morales, you’re y/n right?” he asked trying to break the silence. you nodded in response and he gave you a grin before continuing, “so for the project, i was thinking we do the botany and ecology unit since the molecular biology unit is really long and i don’t really wanna do the genetics part.”

you blessed miles in your mind, thanking him for starting the conversation easily. “uh, yeah i would be fine with that,” you responded. giving you a glanced, he responded “okay, cool” before turning to write in his notebook.

“i’m not doing anything after school so we could meet in the library, can’t go to my dorm since my roommate is a pretty loud gamer,” he said. you simply nodded. the bell rang signifying that class was over.

the school day passed and all you could think of is how you were gonna talk to miles after school without sounding stupid. now, you were naturally shy, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t have conversations or lots of friends. it was only miles who made you really nervous and you didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of him or stumble over your friends.

walking over to the library, you had two paper cups in hand containing hot chocolate. you had wanted one and decided to get one for miles too (also maybe trying to win yourself some brownie points to make him like you a little bit). walking into the library, you look over, already seeing miles at a table with books spread out around him. walking up and stopping in front of him, you gave him a smile.

“i stopped by a cafe before coming here… i hope you like hot chocolate,” you said, trying to sound as calm as possible. miles looking up at you, gave you a grateful smile before grabbing the cup out of your hands.

“thanks, make yourself at home since we gotta work on this shih.”

you followed by sitting down and started taking your books and notebooks out. after being spread out, miles gave you a piece of scratch paper with a draft of what he kinda wants to do for the project. reading over it, you deemed everything good and nodded at him. you both discussed where to begin and he shared a powerpoint with you.

an hour passed and you start to feel more confident in your abilities to talk to miles. discussing work and occasional small talk has slightly taken away your nervousness of talking to the pretty boy.

“i feel like we should put more detail and description on the photosynthesis pa-” you began.

“can you say that again?”

“that we should put more detail on this part?”

“no, say photosynthesis.”

“photosynthesis?”

“the way you say that is cute, ma,” he grinned.

your head literally malfunctioned at that moment. there was no way the boy that you have been pining over for the past month just called you cute. you simply nodded, not knowing how to respond when miles kept on pushing.

“you know, i catch you staring at me a lot,” he smugly said, resting his chin on his hand.

“i don’t know- i mean, sorry?”

“nah, i think it’s cute. i think your cute in general.”

you felt your face flush and looked to the side, scratching your neck. “thanks miles,” you tried to sound appreciative, but accepting compliments was so hard and weird for you. you didn’t want to come off as stuck up, but also didn’t want to come off as ungrateful either. thankfully, your shyness didn’t back miles off.

“you wanna go out with me sometime? we could go to that cafe you went to earlier. whatever is comfortable for you.”

miles saying that immediately brought you out of your shell. “wait, really?” you asked with a shocked look on your face. miles leaned back in his seat, nodding, “of course, hermosa.” you nodded fast, a big smile on your face. who was going to say no to a date with miles morales?

you both forgot existence of the project in that moment and kept on talking.

extra!

the next day at lunch, you were sitting with your friends talking. miles walked by your table and you gave him a small wave, he waved back following a grin before continuing to catch up with his friends. your friends looked at you in shock.

“uhm mrs. super shy? wanna tell us what that was about?” your friend asked.

“give us all the deets. you just got the school’s pretty boy attention.” your other friend asked. you sighed knowing that even after you explain, the questions and hype from your friends will be never ending.

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sluttych4rms · 1 year

Text

all mine // ethan landry

heyy this is the first time i'm writing fanfic in a while so pls be nice :0 open to requests :]

warnings: 18+ minors dni, slightly jealous!ethan, corn with plot, degregation, light praise, not proofread word count: 2.7k

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"havin' a good time?" some blond mama's boy says to you.

"could be better," you say.

ethan dragged you to this stupid party with stupid frat boys who reek of bud light. he'd said chad was really excited about it and that he had to be there to hype him up before he tries to kiss tara for the first time. the tension between the two of them was starting to get unbearable for everyone else so of course you said you'd come, but that was before you knew your boyfriend would be spending all of his time with his boyfriend.

you're not super clingy, and you love that ethan has a friend that helps him break out of his comfort zone, but jesus christ he's barely said five words to you since you got here. they've been nose deep in beer pong since they spotted the table.

"any way i can help with that?" the blond boy says.

you look at him and contemplate for a moment. ever since you and ethan started dating you hadn't stricken up a conversation with a boy unless you needed to. not because he got jealous or anything, you just simply didn't want to. why even speak a word to anyone else when he's all you could ever ask for?

"do you know if there's a secret stash anywhere?" you tap your hand on the keg in front of you. "it's kicked."

although ethan didn't get jealous easily, he was extremely possessive. you recognized this early on in your relationship, how his grip on your hand would tighten a little if another guy started talking to you, the way he'd pull you in closer if he noticed some creep's eyes on you walking down the street. it sent a shiver straight through your spine every time. you're his, and he makes sure everybody knows it.

which is the only reason you're giving this frat bro your time. you know there's a cooler hidden in the corner of the room your boyfriend just so happens to be playing beer pong in.

blond boy leans down and says, "follow me," into your ear, at which you try not to grimace. you let him take your hand and guide you through the crowd of sweaty teenagers, the cheers from the room you're walking towards somehow still audible over the booming speakers playing trademark usa.

as soon as you enter the room your eyes scan for a mop of curly hair. sure enough, he's standing at the table with chad, giving him a high five and saying something you couldn't quite make out. blond boy tugs on your arm a little harder to pull you down to the cooler. he opens it and does a voila motion with his hands.

"take your pick," he says, watching you as he grabs one himself.

you grab a Mike's and shut the cooler, looking back at him. "thanks," you say. "i think i was starting to sober up."

he smiles at you. "no time for that."

he cracks open his drink and motions for you to do the same, so you do. you take a long drink, thankful for the fruity flavors after basically drinking hard liquor all night.

blond boy is watching you as you come back up for air, then he licks his lips and you know what's coming.

"hey wanna go chill in my room for a bit? it's quieter in there." it's so typical you almost laugh out loud. frat boys put out like rabbits.

"i think i'm gonna go find my boyfriend actually," you say, pretending not to see him roll his eyes. "thanks for the drink."

you take another sip, then make your way to the ping pong table on the opposite side of the room. when you look to ethan, his eyes are already locked on you, his party boy exterior temporarily gone before he notices you walking towards him and that pretty smile falls right back onto his face.

"hey, baby," he says, kissing your forehead and immediately pulling you into him with an arm around your shoulders.

there's no sign of malice on his face, no twitch of his lip or excessive strength in his grip.

"hey," you say back with a smile. "you winning?"

"up by two," he says, gesturing to the table.

then he's just staring at you. his eyes are fluttering from one spot on your face to another. you know you're starting to blush because goddamn his gaze is intense.

"oh shit, y/n! where you been?" chad says from next to ethan.

you lean forward across ethan's chest a bit to make eye contact with your boyfriend's roommate. "around," you say. "found another cooler."

you point to the spot you came from. blond boy seems to have found his friends, dancing with a group of boys you couldn't tell the difference between in a lineup. when you look back, ethan's eyes are locked on the corner. or rather, the blond boy in the corner.

somebody else at the table grabs his attention, it's his turn to shoot. he does, and as he turns back around to do so the arm that's around your shoulders slips down to your waist, his fingers running under your shirt and digging into your skin as he pulls you closer. it doesn't hurt by any means, in fact, it feels good enough that there's a familiar flutter in your stomach.

ethan and chad win their game with a shot your boyfriend throws, kissing you on the head and calling you his lucky charm while everyone celebrates.

"i think you're just that good, babe," you say back, patting his chest. he chuckles, then turns to chad and says something in his ear.

chad's face falls as he says, "but we're on a four-time winning streak," in response.

"i know i know i'll be back later just don't lose it," you hear ethan say. they do a bro fist bump before ethan is motioning his head towards another room saying, "follow me," in your ear.

this time, instead of trying not to grimace, you're trying not to soak through your fucking underwear.

he pulls you through multiple rooms until you're standing in a dimly lit hallway where the music isn't quite so overbearing and there aren't as many people.

as soon as he can he's cornering you into a wall, pressing his soft lips against your own almost hungrily.

"i haven't seen you all night," he says, and he's still so close you can feel his lips brush against yours with every word.

"whose fault is that?" you ask teasingly, looking up at him.

"mine," he nearly whispers, seemingly so focused on your pretty face he can barely get the words out. he brushes your hair behind your ear before his hand comes to rest on your collarbone, slowly pushing up to your throat. "all mine."

he's looking at you in that way you love. when his eyes cloud over and you can basically see your name running on a loop in his mind in the reflection of his dark orbs. he's so fucking crazy for you, and it's intoxicating you more than anything you could've drank tonight.

"all yours," you say while staring into his eyes like you know he loves.

his grip around your throat tightens as he kisses you again. you couldn't focus on anything else if you wanted to. your hearing becomes clouded from your arousal because his hand feels so good there and his teeth start tugging at your bottom lip and oh my god he's pressing a knee up your skirt.

"e," you whine against his lips, running a hand down his arm. almost immediately he's grabbing it and muttering a fuck under his breath, pulling you through the nearest open door and shutting it behind you.

it's barely a second before his lips are back on yours and he's picking you up to set you on the sink of the bathroom you wandered into. your legs are spread open on either side of his and you can feel his bulge pressing into your underwear.

you moan into his mouth, apparently prompting him to pull you even closer. the friction nearly kills you.

one thing about ethan - he understands the necessity of foreplay. the man is a god at giving you just the right amount of attention throughout the day to make you lose your fucking mind when his hands finally have free reign.

which is why with just a little friction you're bucking your hips and whining, needing more. ethan just chuckles darkly, he knows what a mess he makes you and loves watching you fall apart because of him.

"ask nicely," he taunts, looking down at you.

you roll your eyes, an action he mocks. he heaves a big sigh as he does so, cramming two fingers under your panties and into your soaking cunt.

"such a fucking brat," he growls as you open your mouth to moan. his other hand makes its swift way up to cover your mouth before any sound can escape.

a deep moan vibrates on his palm and his eyes damn near start sparkling.

you mumble something against his hand, which he then moves, giving you a quiet, "hm?"

"please," you say.

it's light work, you know he won't accept it. but god you just love when he has to drag it out of you.

"please what, bitch?"

you swear you can feel yourself clench around his fingers when he says that. a lot of the sex you guys have is pretty vanilla and lovey-dovey. ethan loves going slow and deep inside you while making you look at him as he tells you everything he loves about you. but every once in a while, usually when you're both so needy you're practically drooling, this dominance flows out of him that you eat the fuck up.

he tilts your chin up to look at him and perks his eyebrows up ever so slightly. "more, e, please," you say, wrapping a hand around his wrist and trying to get him to move.

he just laughs at you.

"so desperate," he says as he curls his fingers inside you, the bare minimum amount of movement making you writhe with need. "and yet you can't even ask for it."

he pulls his fingers out, leaving your cunt clenching around nothing. as you're opening your mouth to whine he shoves his damp fingers in, making you taste yourself as he locks eyes with you.

he slaps your clit once, twice, then his fingers are back inside you, pumping hard as he rubs back and forth on your clit with his thumb. you're moaning to no avail as his fingers stop any sound from escaping.

you can truly never get enough of him.

and he knows this. he feels the same way. which is how he knows when he pulls his fingers out of your mouth that you're gonna give him what he wants.

"please fuck me, ethan, please," you whine, giving him a pleading stare. "need your cock inside me so bad."

he pulls his other fingers out of you, making you whimper.

"need you to ruin me," you say breathlessly.

ethan pecks your lips. "was that so hard?" he asks, a smirk growing on his face as he kisses you again, this time deeply as your hands make their way to his belt that your fingers make quick work of. his pants are coming down and then one of his arms is snaking around your back as your grip finds its way around his shaft.

he lets out a breath of release as you work your wrist the way he likes it.

"i want it in my mouth," you say in his ear.

he whimpers (fucking whimpers) and looks at you, his pupils dilated so much so they may as well cover his whole iris.

"next time, baby," he says as he steps closer, lining himself up at your entrance. you're gasping just at the feeling of his tip. "need your tight little pussy right now."

god he has a filthy mouth for such an innocent-looking boy. the contrast of his sweet voice saying such lewd things is enough to make you cum all on its own.

and you swear you might as he pushes into you, tightening his grip around your back when it starts to arch slightly. he's watching you the whole time, he loves studying every little reaction you have to what he does.

It’s why he knows how to make you feel so good.

he shoves himself into you, not caring about how much noise you make now. and fuck do you make noise.

your moans are filling the bathroom because immediately he’s fucking you like he hasn’t been touched in weeks. it’s almost desperate, the speed at which his hips are moving to stretch you out.

“nobody else will ever be able to make you feel like I do, y/n,” he says, grabbing your face and forcing you to make eye contact with him.

then he stops, and suddenly he’s pulling you off the sink and turning your around to bend you over it. he grabs your hair, pulling your head up a little so he can’t taunt in your ear, “I just want you remember that next time you ask anybody but me to get you another drink.”

then he’s fucking you again, deeper this time. your legs are shaking from how badly you want him because even though he’s inside you it can just never be enough. he really does fuck you the best out of anyone you’ve met. he’s so attentive to what you like, something you’re not used to.

you’re a mess, to say the least. there’s no use in trying to keep your mouth shut or be more quiet. you never can contain yourself around him.

“pussy’s so pretty swallowing my dick, baby.”

especially when he says shit like that jesus christ.

“so fucking pretty,” he says, letting go of your hair and leaning back to slap your ass.

His hands grip your hips, helping him fuck you even harder. you look back and see ethan biting his lip, then letting it go and moaning as he watches himself slide in and out of you.

he glances up and meets your gaze, your desperate little gaze with your mouth gaping open as you moan just waiting for something to fill it up. ethan leans forward and frees a hand to grab your throat, positioning himself above you. he spits in your mouth and lightly slaps your throat, indicating for you to swallow it.

you do, and then you stick your tongue out for him to see. he groans and hits your face, muttering, “such a fucking whore.”

you look back up at him, smiling as you say, “just for you.”

something flickers in his eyes and he gives you a slight smile back.

“that’s my girl,” he says as his hand once again leaves your throat and slips into your hair, pulling you back so you’re nearly standing with him. his other hand moves to your clit where he starts rubbing back and forth.

“fuck, e,” you whine, the over stimulation tightening the knot in your stomach to nearly explode. “fuck ‘m gonna cum.”

“yes, baby, cum all over my cock like the dirty little slut you are.”

that’s all it takes to tip you over the edge. your orgasm shoots through you in waves as ethan mutters “good girl” in your ear and you feel your cunt tighten around his throbbing cock that starts leaking from the feeling not even seconds later.

then he's groaning in your ear as he shoots his load into you and oh my god you could listen to him make these slutty noises forever.

you’re both sweaty and writhing riding out your highs, pulling each other close to feel as much of each other possible. ethan starts leaving a trail of kisses on your neck as your legs begin to slow down on the shaking.

You know if you were home right now he’d be pulling you into him on a bed, wrapping his arms around you and giving you kisses everywhere he can reach while he tells you how much he loves you. you’re a sucker for aftercare and he’s become a pro at it.

for now though, in a dirty frat bathroom, he settles for turning you around to kiss you on every inch of your face, muttering a soft "i love you" between each one.

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry smut #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry fanfiction #scream 2023 #scream 6 #scream vi #ethan landry x reader smut

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vandal-flower · 5 months

Text

The Type of Boyfriend that Will...

Blue Lock boys that will...

Characters: Various.

Notes: Go ahead, interrogate me in my inbox.

Go to war for you

Had it not been for his soccer career, he'll enlist himself in the army just so he can go to war for you.

Other moments are where there is a cockroach in the room and decides to kill it for you. He might be the type to complain about it, but that doesn't stop him from getting the job done.

If you ever have an argument with a girl that might get physical, be prepared to see him put on a cheap wig just to brawl her for you. Or in some cases, there is no wig.

Annoying neighbours next door that won't shut up when you want to go to sleep. Don't worry, he's got you.

He kisses you goodbye as his battle on the pitch is soon to set, and reminds you to take care of the kids while he's gone. Said kids are the house plants and/or pets.

So, yes. He'll go to war for you.

Seishiro Nagi, Shouei Barou, Rensuke Kunigami, Itoshi Bros, Ryusei Shidou, Oliver Aiku... + your favourites.

Sacrifice himself for you

When I mean sacrifice, I mean sacrifice.

When mosquito season rolls in, he'll stay up all night just to prevent them from stinging you. You have to remind him that you bought the latest mosquito repellent, but that won't stop him.

He'll give you his charger, even if his phone is on the verge of dying. He'll give you the warmest blanket, even if he's freezing cold. He's willing to watch the scary scenes, so you don't have to.

You remind him that he does not have to do all these things for you, but he's too stubborn to even listen to you.

His teammates often tease him for his behaviour, but he takes it with the widest smile known to man.

If it means he has to jump in the pool, in winter, fully clothed, just to get your hair tie, he'll do it in a heart beat.

Yoichi Isagi, Meguru Bachira, Rensuke Kunigami, Reo Mikage, Alexis Ness, Oliver Aiku... + your favourites.

Put his all for you

This man, could be the tiredest man on Earth, but he'll give his all to you.

He's too tired to cook, but you're hungry. Expect dinner in a few minutes. The store is closing in 3 minutes, give him 1 minute minimum. Nothing is stopping him.

You wonder how far he'll go to such lengths in order to satisfy your needs. Do remind him that he too should take a break. But do remember, there is a 50% he'll listen.

If you have not noticed, his love language is acts of service. He is your royal knight, your right hand man, the fanfic secretary you'll definitely get with. You know the drill.

He dedicates his goals to you as a way to say "I love you" on the pitch. And also as a way to say he's better than anyone else.

Yoichi Isagi, Hyoma Chigiri, Reo Mikage, Shouei Barou, Rensuke Kunigami, Itoshi Bros, Michael Kaiser... + your favourites.

Stay with you

When times are tough, he's here with you.

If you wish to be held, he'll hold you. If you wish to have space, he'll give you space. If you want someone to rant to, his ears are wide open. You want a shoulder to cry on, have his it's dry.

He may or may not understand what you are going through, but the fact that he stays with you, shows that he cares.

There were times in his life where there was no one for him to run to. An experience he does not wish upon you, his lover.

If it means just gently rubbing your back, giving you something to eat, listening to your soft or loud cries. He'll do it.

As long as it means he's staying with you, so don't have to be alone like he was.

All of them. (For our peace of mind)

Hi.

My inbox is open. Check out my Rules.

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #isagi yoichi #bachira meguru #rin itoshi #sae itoshi #kunigami rensuke #shidou ryusei #chigiri hyoma #nagi seishiro #reo mikage #barou shouei #michael kaiser #alexis ness #oliver aiku #vandal-flower

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abbeym28 · 5 months

Text

Clarisse La Rue - Between the Breaths

Clarisse x gn! reader

An- Over 3.4k on this one!!! It didn't really take me that long to write it either! Thank you for all of the notes on I'm Your Man, it means a lot to me! Also, if anyone has request for any Clarisse or Luke fanfics, I would be happy to hear them even though I have no clue on how to do requests lol

Warnings- Training, weapons, somewhat gruesome part but really at all, Clarisse being friends with most of the Aphrodite cabin, reader can be from any cabin!! Pls let me know if I missed something!!

Clarisse La Rue had been at Camp Half blood for awhile, and it's safe to say that she has seen a lot of things. Good things, pretty things, but also gruesome things, things that would break a normal person if they weren't strong.

But she was strong.

Just not as much when it comes to you.

You, who the moon and sun seemed to shine on in a whole different light then it did on the rest of camp. You, whose kindness had reached almost every demigod, each of which likes you in their own way for their own reason. You, who was the most beautiful person Clarisse has ever seen.

Except she couldn't ever get too close to you, or have a conversation with you that was long, for she was Clarisse La Rue, child of Ares, the favorite daughter of a man who didn’t like his kids. And you, you were just too good for her. But she would never let a crush like this weigh on her the way it had started to, so she found a good way to regulate it all.

It was fighting, of course.

She let out a battle cry as she stabbed her spear into the ground, getting annoyed at how the other camper had rolled out of the way instead of letting her stab them. Sounds of other kids also fighting in the training ground filled her ears and she could distantly pick up the smell of food. She could thank the instincts she got from her god-parent as she went in for another attack (this time one that would actually hit), but a yell stopped her before she could go through with it.

“Hey! Anyone who wants a snack can take one!” Luke Castellan stood off to the side with his arms crossed, and standing right next to him holding a tray, was you.

Younger campers ran over to the two of you, while older ones opted to walk or to pick up dangerous weapons that had been discounted to the ground.

Clarisse scoffed and began to walk the other way, clenching her gifted spear tightly in her hand. She was stomping down the path through the forest that led to her special spot, her favorite tree, but the sound of running footsteps from behind her made her slow down and lighten her steps.

She twirled around, spear at the ready to go through a neck, but it was your neck in which the spear was now pointed at. And, surprise surprise, your neck was attached to the rest of your body.

The back of her neck and the tips of her ears began to feel hot, the type of burning she swore she could only feel whenever she entered the Hephaestus cabin to complain about her faulty armor. Or whenever she was close to you at the bonfire nights. She lowered her spear a bit and her stance faltered.

“Oh, um, I was just.... Is this a bad time?”

“No, it’s not.” She dropped the spear from the attack mode and turned around, continuing down the path. You followed after her, balancing the last few snacks still on the tray you were holding as you awkwardly stepped over tree trunks and discarded branches.

“Well, I was just wondering if you wanted anything to eat, considering that you're, like, the most hard working person in training and stuff. You definitely need substances so you can keep your muscles. ” Wow, you definitely knew exactly how and what to say to a kid of Ares.

“I don’t need a snack from you.” Gods, she hoped you picked up more on the sarcasm and not the accidental longing that had slipped out.

“Clarisse-” -she almost melted with how you had said her name- “-You were training really hard for a pretty long time. You should- you need to eat something!”

“I don’t need to do anything that you or anyone else tells me to!” She whirled around, getting very close to you as you halted, but taking a few steps back as a precaution. She glared at you, and you could feel her heavy breaths on your neck. You were looking down on her thanks to the hill, but despite that she was still pretty intimidating.

And just pretty.

Her eyes flickered to the snacks, and then they flickered back up to meet yours.

“If I take one, can you leave?” You brightened at her question.

“Of course!” She hesitantly took one, and before she turned around, you could have sworn that you heard her whisper a “Thank you, angel.” Your cheeks felt strangely warm as you made your way back to camp.

Throwing down another broken dagger, Clarisse groaned. The dummy she had destroyed was laying in shreds on the ground in front of her, and she was beginning to feel bad for whoever would have to stitch it back up. Someone began to clap behind her and her eye twitched.

“I think you got ‘em!” Selena Beauregard, daughter of Aphrodite, called from the sidelines.

“What do you want?” Clarisse called back, grabbing another dagger from the closest weapons rack near her. Silena watched as she twirled it around a few times.

“I’m here to ask you about something.” there was a strange sly smirk that situated on Silena’s face, that no matter what reputation the Aphrodite kid was, other campers knew that was the universal sign to run away.

Clarisse sighed and crossed her arms, the dagger she was holding pointing to the ground. She quirked her eyebrow as a way to say “go ahead”.

“We know you have a crush.” All of the sudden, at least six other kids that Clarisse could recognize as from the Aphrodite cabin jumped out of the bushes and came rushing towards Clarisse.

That was how she died.

Okay, so she definitely didn’t die, but dying was definitely better than being forced onto a pink chair inside the even pinker walls of the goddess of love's cabin.

Could’ve Clarisse fought of all of them and then report them to Chiron? Yes. But she just really didn't feel up to using that much energy on a bunch of perfect haired people. And besides, the amount of strength they had did impress her, so she was going to give it to them just this once.

A twelve year old girl was holding onto her right hand, delicately and perfectly brushing on a coat of black nail polish onto her freshly buffed nails.

Clarisse tried to pay attention to everything that the girl was doing, but the distracting amount of sets of eyes on her made it hard to do so. Even so, this was the first time someone had ever painted her nails for her.

“Got the ice cream!” Mitchell, one of the only sons of the love goddess came through the cabin doors, and he was met with cheers from every magenta cabin corner.

It took a minute or two until a bowl was eventually passed to Clarisse, but it was snatched away by the girl doing her nails. She wrinkled her nose at her, and the girl stuck out her tongue as response.

“So,” Silena started off, pausing to take a bite of the ice cream. “Want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know what your talking about.” Clarisse stayed stubborn, but she most definitely knew what she was talking about.

“Girl, we see how you get whenever they are around. Do you for real think that we are all stupid?” Another voice piped in from a random bunk bed to Clarisse’s left.

“Who?” She paid hyper attention to how the girl had finished working on her ring finger and was now moving onto her middle one. Shouts of your name rang out under the tall ceiling and Clarisse immediately tensed up.

“I do not have a crush on them.” She scoffed, but everyone else noticed the shakiness in her voice and they all exchanged knowing glances and smiles.

“You soooooo do! And that's why we’re helping you!” Voices of agreement chimed in with their two senses.

“We see how you look at them!”

“Yeah, and there's, like, a certain tension that comes around whenever you guys pass by each other! It’s soooo cute!”

“With our help, there's gonna be no way that they aren't in love with you!” Clarisse glared at the direction the voice came from.

“You don’t think they aren't already in love with me?” It didn’t seem to far of base, since Clarisse herself didn’t believe you were, or that you would ever be. But hearing a bunch of Aphrodite kids practically admit to it hit a bit different.

“I think they like you.” Silena said. Some other kids quickly agreed.

“They get pretty nervous when you're around, and they seek you out whenever there's gatherings. Even when they don’t go up to you, they get more relaxed whenever they see you.” A girl, no older than eight, spoke up from a lower bunk. She was laying her stomach and coloring on a piece of paper while kicking her feat. Everyone turned towards her, questions in the air. The girl looked up and shrugged. “We make paper stars together.” And then she went back to doodling.

Clarisse chuckled. She was not going to underestimate an Aphrodite kid again.

Then, there was a knock on the door. You poked your head through the cracked open door and smiled at everyone.

“Hey, I was just wondering if- Clarisse!” You got more fidgety once you had noticed Clarisse in the chair.

She jumped up and rushed past you and out of the cabin. Shouts of “hey!” rang out from behind her, the most prominent one coming from the girl who was working on her nails.

The next morning while getting breakfast, Clarisse could admit to herself that she was most definitely a fool.

With one hand of painted nails and the knowledge that she had run away from you, she would much rather stay in her fathers dedicated cabin and not anywhere where the kids from last night could find her.

She set her breakfast down at Ares’s assigned table, making sure that her manicure stayed unaffected. A flowery scent passed behind her, and a note was softly dropped onto the spot in front of her. Once she opened it, the note on the inside read : ”Try flexing at training today! ~ Silena + Aphrodite cabin” Followed by a winky and kissy face.

The last thing Clarisse wanted to do was make a fool of herself in front of more than just you and one cabin. She was for sure going to look stupid showing off the muscles she had gained over the years, but maybe she was always a fool after she caught you looking at her while she stretched.

Training seemed to go by fast that day, and by the end of it she was sweating hard under the sun's glare. She placed her spear down on a bench and sat on the ground, trying to catch her breath from all of the extra moving she had done.

“Clarisse!” Oh boy, she knew that voice. You jogged over to her, a water bottle and towel in your hands. She got up off of the ground, making sure to purposely move her arms in just the right way. While she couldn't say that she was an expert on your expressions, she could say that you looked almost breathless.

“Oh-um, these are for you.” She smiled at you and took the two things from you and in an instant gulped down almost half of the water. You tilted your head to the side a bit.

“Only one of your hands is painted?” She raised her eyebrow before realizing that you meant her nail polish.

“Oh, yeah. I… I don’t really like sitting down for that long.” You nodded your head.

“That makes sense. That happens to me a lot.”

“Sooo, I’ll see you later?” Her simple question seemed to make you brighten up, and you watched as she picked up her spear and moved to go in the direction back to camp. She looked over her shoulder and winked at you, all while making sure to hold her weapon in a way to bring attention to her biceps and back.

The fire in the pit got higher as Clarisse poked around in it to make sure that it would keep burning. You were across from her on the bench on the other side, talking to two of her brothers and sisters, and whenever she would catch a glimpse of you she would take it as a sign to add to the fire.

The way her siblings were getting close to you, and the way that you would laugh and allow them to touch your arm. It left a burning feeling in her heart, and a sinking feeling in her stomach.

She focused on running her fingers over the thick stick that was used to help the fire.

“Clarisse?” Gods, your voice saying her name had to be her most favorite thing about her life, and for her to just hear like, you must really have a tight hold on her- her eyes flickered up, and there you were, standing in front of her, fidgeting with something small in your hands. “I got some black nail polish from Silena, and I was- I was wondering if I could paint your other hand?”

Clarisse was taken aback. But still, she sat up straighter and moved over a bit. “Oh, yeah, sure.”

You excitedly sat next to her and reached over for her hand. She put her hand into yours, and it felt as if the fire had gotten hotter, and as if fireworks were going off over your heads.

She watched as you focused and delicately worked on her left hand. Your work wasn't as precise as the other girl had been, but for some reason she enjoyed this more, with how your hands would shake and a deep frown would mark your lips in that way that if Clarisse knew that you liked her as she liked you, she would lean over and kiss you until you couldn't even frown.

Clarisse La Rue was most definitely in love with you.

Over the next weeks, you and Clarisse had gotten closer, but never close enough.

Whenever she wanted to hold your hand, she opted to fix your sleeve or to situate her hand on the small of your back.

Whenever you wanted to grab her and then kiss her till you couldn’t breath, you opted to fix her armor.

But despite all of the things the two wanted, you continued to dance around each other in a way that even Luke was getting tired of. But things changed after Clarisse had that dream.

The sky was clear, and it was a perfect night to have a picnic on the beach. Clarisse had provided the blanket and the food, and all you had to do was show up and give her the attention that she had been craving while she was too busy.

Things were getting more dangerous around camp, monsters getting closer to the barrier and less new kids showing up for that reason.

Clarisse could fight monsters all day everyday, but it was these nice nights that allowed her to get back the drive to do so. She was close to convincing you to just spend the night sleeping with her in her cabin, not caring how many rules that could potentially break. But if she wouldn’t get that, then she would have to love this. It wasn’t a hard task, considering that anything that had to do with you was something that she would love.

She felt you snuggle in closer to her side, and her heart soared as her arm tightened around your waist.

“It’s pretty cold, isn’t it?” you whispered, and she could feel your breath against her neck.

“Yeah, but the moon looks beautiful, right?” She whispered back and you grinned.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” She gently pulled off one of your arms that was around her to take your hand in hers, leading you into a simple type of slow dance waltz. She had never danced before, nor had she ever been taught, but she would do anything for you.

The two of you laughed gently, especially once one of you accidentally stepped on the other's foot. When it was nearing the early hour of one, she led you to sit back onto the blanket.

“I'm gonna find you a pearl.” She promised against your lips as you held her closely to yours. You brought her into a kiss, the best and most slow and sensual kiss she would probably ever experience. Once you drew away from her, you laughed a bit.

“Okay, good luck my love.” And so she bounded towards the water, wading in right at the spot she knew clams and oysters were.

Right when she was bending to pick one up, a scream peirced through the darkness.

Your scream.

You were yelling her name, and Clarisse dropped everything to try to make it to you faster. A cyclops had you in its grip and you were struggling greatly.

She wanted to shout that she had no weapon, and that you would have to use the power in which you had gotten from your godly parent.

But she didn’t shout, and she didn't move.

She just watched as you got eaten.

Clarisse woke up with a start, sweat clinging to what felt like every cell of her skin. She flipped off the blankets of her bed and jumped up.

Nobody else had woken up because of her yet, thank the gods. She wanted to see you, to take you in her arms and know that you were alright, and to tell you that she was sorry that she was so weak. But that wasn’t something she should do, and she knew that.

She sighed and sat pack onto her bed, running her hand down her face. There was no way she could be around you right now.

It was later that night in which you were finally able to track Clarisse down as she was sitting outside of her cabin.

“Clarisse, you skipped all of our meals together. Are you okay?” You were about to go sit next to her but she got up and began walking towards the forest.

You followed after her, speed walking to keep up. “Clarisse, wait! If something happens, we can talk- woah!” You were going down the path that you had followed her down so long ago, and while you weren't paying attention to where you were walking, you tripped over an arm of a tree that had fallen to the ground.

Clarisse whirled around and caught you before you could touch the ground, and you held onto her arms tightly to ground yourself.

“Wow it was a good thing you were there, Clarisse, or else-” but once you met her eyes, they looked watery. “Oh, honey, what happened?”

No tears had fallen, no matter how hard it looked as she was holding it all in. You reached out your hand and gently caressed along her cheek.

She then pulled you into a hug worthy of a bear, and while you couldn't hear her crying, you could feel the damp that had started to soak through the fabric of your shirt. She held you tight;y as you began to softly draw shapes onto her back, mostly hearts.

“I, I had a dream, and you died, and I love you, and I’m sorry I'm this weak and-”

”Shhh, shh, it's okay, hun. You are not weak at all, and you are justified in whatever you're feeling, okay? And… I love you too” You whispered the last part as she sniffled and pulled away from you a bit.

You looked into each other's eyes for a bit, and you found yourself falling into and appreciating her gorgeous brown eyes. She pulled you closer, and then she pulled you into a kiss.

Your arms moved to be around her neck as her hands that grip your hips loosened the more you both melted into each other. As you pulled away, doubt seemed to fall across her face.

“Are you sure you-” But before she could say anything more, you grabbed the front of her shirt to bring her into a second kiss, one that was just as good as the first one, if not better.

“I love you. And your muscles.” A grin broke across Clarisse’s face.

“I love you too.”

And then going in for a third kiss, she made a mental note to give thanks to the Aphrodite cabin kids.

#percy jackson x reader #pjo #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue #luke castellan #pjo x reader

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sourwolf-sterek32 · 1 year

Text

A Real Daddy?

Summary: You sat in bed watching Pedro's latest interview; Jeff Bridges: "Are you a daddy?" Pedro: "I'm not a daddy. And I'm not gonna be a daddy!"

Your heart shattered at his words as you looked over at the bathroom where six positive tests were sitting on the sink.

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: language, mentions of abortion

A/N: This fanfic was a commission request. She wanted a short Pedro x Reader where Y/N is nervous to tell him that she is pregnant, and after watching his Hollywood Reporter Roundtable interview, I had to incorporate it into the fic. I hope you all enjoy it ❤️ (gif found on Google, credit to the owner)

You and Pedro had been together for a couple of years now after meeting long ago on the set of Game of Thrones.

The two of you had hit it off right away and had become close friends during the filming of Season 4, but somewhere along the way that friendship had turned into so much more.

Watching Pedro perform as Oberyn Martell wearing that mustard-coloured robe with his unique accent, you never stood a chance. The man was a gift sent from the Gods and for whatever reason, he had taken a liking to you.

"Are you sure you're okay? You still look a little pale." Pedro observed, leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom. His beautiful brown eyes met yours from where you were laying under the blankets, and you could see the concern washing over him as he stared at you.

"I'm probably just coming down with something. I'll be fine. Aren't you meant to be at the airport by now?" You asked, glancing at the alarm clock on your nightstand with a frown.

He had less than an hour before boarding. He really should be halfway to the airport by now.

"Maybe I should reschedule. I don't want to leave you alone-"

"Pedro. You can't reschedule, you start filming Gladiator tomorrow. I'm fine. I promise." You reassured, but your words didn't seem to reassure him in the slightest and you sighed.

He had been working so hard for his new role in Gladiator. With his vigorous diet and workout routine, he had pushed his body to the max for this role. You were so incredibly proud of him. There was no way you were letting him reschedule.

"You were throwing up all morning. You're not fine. I want to take care of you." He all but whispered, walking into the room and sitting down on the edge of your bed.

He lifted his hand, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as he cupped your face gently and smiled softly at you. You leant into his touch and rested your hand on top of his.

"I love you for that, but I don't need you to take care of me. I can take care of myself."

He sighed, "if you get any worse then you call me, okay?"

You rolled your eyes, "Pedro-"

"You call me." You repeated sternly and you nodded.

"I promise. Now, go before you miss your flight." You said, shoving him gently off the bed. "Text me when you land so I know you're okay."

"I will, baby. I love you." He said, leaning down and kissing your forehead. "Get some rest, okay?"

"I will. I love you, P." You replied smiling softly at him before he grabbed his suitcase and walked out the room.

Life as you knew it continued on as per usual. That weird stomach bug would come and go, but you just put it down to work stress and bad food.

Pedro was still filming Gladiator overseas and wasn't due back home for another couple of weeks. It was hard whenever he was away, which was fairly often with your line of work. Acting was a very demanding job and although you were taking a break for a while after you had just finished shooting you last movie, Pedro had job after job lined up for the rest of the year.

You were happy for him though. From Narcos to The Mandalorian to The Last of Us, he had really shot to fame. He was the talk of the whole internet at the moment, and you were so proud of how far he had come, you honestly couldn't be happier for him, but a small jealous part of you sometimes wished he wasn't as popular.

He had writers and directors calling and emailing him constantly about job offers and interviews. The two of you rarely got to spend any time together.

It was part of the job though. You both lived busy lives with your acting careers. You knew it would be like this when you first started dating. The two of you had spoken about it before making things official between you, knowing that if you were really serious with each other that you guys would make it work, and you have. But it still sucked sometimes.

However, as you sat on the edge of your bathtub staring at the pregnancy test on the sink, you wished more than anything that he was here with you now.

There were still a few minutes before the test was done and you sat anxiously tapping the empty packet against your knee while you waited.

Neither of you had really spoken about wanting kids in the future. The topic had just never come up. You were too busy with your careers to even think about having kids, but now you were really wishing that you and Pedro have had that conversation. Did he even want kids? Did you even want kids? It was too much to think about.

As if on cue, your phone suddenly began to vibrate in your pocket, and you pulled it out to find Pedro's name on your screen.

He was calling you.

Shit.

You glanced over at the upturned test before taking in a deep breath and pressing the little green accept button.

"Hey!" You said into the phone with as much joy and excitement as possible, not wanting him to know that something was wrong.

"Hey, baby. It's so good to hear your voice. How are you feeling? My sister called and said you sounded a little flat yesterday on the phone."

Yeah, yesterday wasn't a great day. Your body decided that it didn't want to keep any food inside of you, even the plain toast for breakfast came back up. His sister had called at the worst possible time for a chat. You had tried to sound normal, but apparently you hadn't fooled her. You should have known she would tell him.

"Oh, yeah, sorry. Just wasn't feeling great yesterday. I'm good today though, but enough about me. How's Gladiator going?" You asked, and if Pedro noticed your sudden change in topic, he didn't comment on it.

"It is great! Joe and I had this really intense fight scene, and we did it in one take! Which was crazy because during rehearsal we kept laughing and dropping our swords, but we totally nailed it."

You smiled at how happy he sounded as you stared at the pregnancy test packet in your hand anxiously. You couldn't tell him. He was happy and in the middle of filming and you probably weren't pregnant anyway, no point in making him worry for no reason, right?

"Sounds like you've had a good day then." You replied.

"The best! Oh, remember when I did that Hollywood Reporter Roundtable interview?"

"With Jeff Bridges, Evan Peters and the other guys?"

"Yeah, that one. It's finally been released.

"Finally! I've been dying to watch it. Is it on YouTube?" You asked, putting him on speaker while you opened up the YouTube app on your phone to find it.

"You don't have to watch it. It goes for alike an hour and I'm probably just staring at Jeff Bridges the whole time. I don't know how I got through any scenes with him back when we were filming Kingsman together, that man is a legend." He admitted with a chuckle.

"Well now I have to watch it." You responded causing Pedro to laugh through the phone before you heard a voice shout in the background, but you couldn't hear what they were saying.

Pedro sighed, "sorry, baby. I gotta get back on set. I'll call you a bit later."

"Go knock 'em dead, Gladiator. Talk later." You replied before hanging up the phone.

You found the interview on YouTube and glanced over at the pregnancy test on the sink before shaking your head. You couldn't look yet... you didn't want to look yet because if it was positive... you had no idea what you were going to do.

So instead, you walked into your bedroom and connected your phone to the television on the wall and played the Hollywood Reporter Roundtable interview hoping it would distract you.

The interview did distract you. It was a good interview and whoever decided to sit Pedro and Kieran Culkin next to each other deserved a raise because they were fantastic together.

You had almost forgotten about the pregnancy test, you were so invested in the interview until the interviewer bought up the topic of 'daddy'.

"Uh, yeah. I am." Pedro answered the question with a smile. "I am having fun with it. It seems a little role related. I think. The Mandalorian is very daddy to baby Grogu. Joel is very daddy to Ellie. These are daddy parts."

"Are you a daddy?" Jeff Bridges had asked from across the table.

"I'm not a daddy. And I am not gonna be a daddy!" Came Pedro's answer.

He didn't want to be a daddy.

That thought hadn't really occurred to you. Pedro didn't actually want kids... you knew that was a possibility since you guys had never spoken about it, but he really didn't want to be a father.

The interview was still playing on the tv, but you had long ago stopped listening.

What if you were pregnant? What were you going to do?

Abruptly, you jumped off the bed and rushed to the bathroom and your stomach dropped when you saw the two little pink lines on the pregnancy test. It was positive.

Your body was paralysed where you stood, unable to tear your eyes off the stick. That couldn't be true. It couldn't be.

But after six positive tests later, you were forced to face reality.

You were pregnant. With Pedro's baby... but he didn't want to be a father.

Pedro had stated publicly during that interview that he didn't want to be a daddy, but you were pregnant. How were you meant to tell him? When should you tell him? You couldn't tell him now. He was in the middle of filming one of the biggest roles of his career. You couldn't dump this on him now. No way.

Pedro's boisterous laugher came from the tv in your bedroom and you sighed, listening to him. His laugh had always been contagious, and you could hear the others in the interview all now laughing as well.

You loved Pedro. And he loved you too, but you couldn't go forcing this baby on him, a baby that he definitely didn't want. How could the two of you have a baby anyway? Between your busy careers, there was no time for a baby. It wouldn't be practical. It wouldn't work.

In the end, you decided to ignore the problem for now. It wasn't like it was going anywhere. So, you ignored it. Maybe you were a little in denial about the whole thing, but any normal person would be.

Pedro had noticed something was wrong almost immediately when he next called. You tried to act normal, but he knew you better than you knew yourself so hiding anything from him was stupid, but you kept trying.

He knew you were lying to him whenever he asked if you were okay, but you weren't about to drop the biggest bombshell of his life on him over a phone call. So, you kept lying.

It wasn't until a few weeks later that you came home to find Pedro sitting on the couch with your laptop open on the coffee table in front of him. That in itself wasn't anything unusual, he always used your laptop to check his emails or play solitaire. But him being home a whole week before the end of shooting was definitely not right.

He hadn't noticed you enter the house. He seemed too focused on something on your laptop and whatever it was, you knew it wasn't good by the way he sat with his body tense and jaw clenched.

Did something happen?

"Hey!" You greeted happily, despite the worry churning in your stomach. "I thought you weren't meant to be back until next week."

Pedro turned his head in your direction, his usual bright brown eyes were dull and hard, his brow furrowed in a frown as he turned back to the laptop.

"We finished early. I was going to surprise you." He answered, his voice flat compared to his usual cheery smiley tone, and he looked away from you avoiding your eyes.

Okay, something was definitely wrong.

"What's going on? You seem... I don't know, did something happen?" You asked worriedly, dumping your keys on the bench before walking over and sitting beside him on the couch.

"Why don't you tell me."

You frowned, "I'm not following."

"I went to check my emails, but this was already open when I turned it on." He explained, leaning forward and tilting the laptop screen towards you.

You squinted a little staring at the laptop on the coffee table before your eyes widened in utter shock. It was your booking confirmation for an abortion.

Oh, God.

"You were pregnant." He said, but it wasn't a question, he had already figured it out.

You looked away feeling tears burning in the back of your eyes. He was angry. He was trying to hold his anger back, you could tell, but he was angry. Pedro was angry at you.

"Who's was it?" He asked, when you didn't say anything.

"What?"

"Who was the father?" He repeated, causing you to look over at him in confusion. "You got an abortion without talking to me, so it obviously wasn't mine. Who was it?"

Wait, what?

Did he seriously think that...

"You think I cheated on you?" You asked in disbelief because that couldn't be what he was implying, right? You've been together for years, he wouldn't think you would do that. He wouldn't.

"Who?" He demanded, his beautiful brown eyes full of so much anger and sadness, it made your heart break.

"I didn't cheat on you. I'd never-"

"Don't lie to me!" He snapped.

You flinched back at his raised voice like he had physically slapped you across the face. Pedro had never yelled at you before. Sure, you guys have argued, every couple did, but he had never raised his voice, not like this.

The anger in his eyes subsided a bit, a flash of guilt washing over him. Instantly regretting his actions before he shook his head and stood up from the couch, heading towards the front door.

"I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have shouted at you. I just need a minute to clear my head." He said over his shoulder.

"I didn't get the abortion and I didn't cheat on you!" You hurriedly yelled, not wanting him to leave.

If he left right now... you would break down. You couldn't lose him, and you didn't want him wandering the streets of LA thinking you had slept with someone else while he was away.

Pedro froze where he stood, his hand on the door handle about to open it, "what?"

You took in a deep breath, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as you looked over at him, his back still facing you.

"I'm pregnant. It's yours, and I didn't get the abortion."

He slowly turned to face you, but you couldn't gauge his reaction. His whole body was just a blur through the tears swimming in your eyes.

"You're serious?" He asked, like he couldn't quite believe it was true.

"I'm sorry." You whispered, the tears you had been trying so hard to keep back finally falling down your face. "I'm sorry, but I didn't cheat. I-I would never cheat on you. Never. I need you to know that. I would never cheat on you."

Pedro rushed across the room, dropping to his knees in front of you and placing his hand on your knee as he looked up at you. All the anger that had been bubbling inside of him was now replaced with guilt.

"I know, baby. I know. I just... when I saw the email, I thought... I'm sorry. I should have never accused you of that. But why didn't you tell me?" He asked, his voice breaking ever so slightly as he continued. "You booked an abortion without telling me. You didn't have to go through this alone, why didn't you tell me?"

Your heart shattered at his words because you knew that was true. He would have dropped everything to be there for you, no matter the cost. He would have ruined his role on Gladiator for you in a heartbeat, and you wouldn't let him do that.

"I couldn't tell you." You whispered, tears still streaming down your face as you looked away from him, not wanting him to see you cry.

"Why not, baby? I would have been there for you. I wouldn't have forced you to do anything you didn't want to do, you know that, right?" He asked, seeming genuinely worried that you may have feared that.

You sniffed, "I know."

"So why couldn't you tell me?" He asked, his voice softer and gentler than you had ever heard it.

You thought back to that interview, your heart breaking all over again. I'm not a daddy. And I am never gonna be a daddy. Pedro didn't want this.

"You said you didn't want to be a daddy." You answered, your voice barely above a whisper.

"What?"

You looked back over at him to find him staring at you in pure confusion and you sighed, wiping the tears from your face before elaborating.

"In that Hollywood Reporter interview. You said you didn't want to be a daddy... I watched your interview and found out I was pregnant the same day."

Pedro's expression dropped, "oh, baby-"

"And you were filming Gladiator." You quickly said, cutting him off. "So, I didn't want to tell you and distract you from that job. You've worked so hard for it, and you were so happy whenever you called from set. I-I didn't want to ruin that. But... but I knew you didn't want kids and I didn't want you to feel forced to have a kid that you didn't want-"

"Breathe, baby. Y/N, breathe." Pedro reminded, squeezing your knee gently.

You sucked in a shaky shallow breath, knowing you were working yourself up, but you had to say it all now because if you didn't than you probably weren't going to say it at all.

"I booked in for an abortion, but I couldn't go through with it. I was sitting in the waiting room, I was ready to go in, but I couldn't. I couldn't do it. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." You sobbed, burying your face with your hands.

"Shh, it's okay, baby. It's okay. It's okay." Pedro reassured, getting to his feet and sitting down beside you.

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his chest, his other arm wrapping around you tightly, holding you while you broke down in his arms. Pedro was still talking, whispering soothing words to you while you cried.

"I'm sorry you had to go through all this alone." He whispered, rubbing gentle circles over your back as he held you. "I'm so sorry, baby."

You weren't sure how long he hugged you for. The tears had eventually stopped flowing but the collar of his Lakers shirt was now damp.

"I'm sorry." You whispered, lifting your head from his chest and had to do a double take when you noticed Pedro's eyes were now red and glistening with unshed tears. Seeing him on the verge of crying made tears rise in your eyes once again, but you forced them back.

"You have nothing to apologise for. Nothing." He insisted, pulling away and cupping the side of your face with his hand, brushing the tear stains from your cheeks as he smiled softly at you. "I love you."

"You... you don't hate me?" You asked, your voice sounding as broken as you felt.

"Hate you?" He asked in shock. "I could never hate you."

"But... you don't want kids... and I'm pregnant and it's my fault and-"

"If I remember correctly, it takes two people to make a baby." He pointed out, chuckling softly as you rolled your eyes.

"I'm serious, P."

"So am I." He stated, his laughter coming to a stop as he took in a deep shaky breath. "Look, I know we've never talked about it, but I always wanted to have kids. I love kids. I love being an uncle and I love playing daddies on tv, but I had accepted that it probably wouldn't happen for me, not with my age or career."

"Pedro-" you tried to say, but he kept talking.

"I love you, Y/N. If you want to keep this baby, we will make it work, I promise. We will figure it all out. But if you don't want this, I will support that too. It is your body, baby, whatever you want to do, I will be there for you and support you."

His words sent the tears in your eyes trickling down your face once again and his own eyes softened as he brushed them away with his thumb.

"I-I don't want to force you into anything. I don't want to-"

"Baby, baby, you're not forcing me into anything." He reassured, but you shook your head.

"But the interview..."

"I said that thinking being a real daddy wasn't in the cards for me, but now it is, only if you want it to be though." He explained, putting emphasis on the last part.

You didn't say anything for a moment. A million different thoughts and emotions washing over you as you slowly nodded and met his gentle gaze.

"So, if I told you that I wanted to keep it..." You trailed off unable to finish the sentence as Pedro's eyes lit up with hope.

"I'm gonna be a real daddy?"

You smiled, "you're gonna be a real daddy."

Pedros face broke out into a bright smile, the tears in his eyes silently falling down his face before he lent forward and captured your lips with his, kissing you gently.

"I love you. I love you so much, Y/N." He whispered against your lips.

PART 2

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daydreams-after-dark · 27 days

Text

What's your fanfic fantasy? part 2

↳ tag list: open

Chapter Contents.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 // Part 11 // Part 12 // Part 13 // Part 14 //

pairing : fem reader + Chan + Jisung

This is an AU story about Chan bringing your fantasies to life... but what happens when boyfriends Chan and Han fall in love with you?

Chapter Summary: Jisung show you exactly what he can do to you. promising you will never not be able to imagine him fucking you. A surprise threesome ensues.

Warnings: oral sex, fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, anal sex (m. rec), threesome.

“What was that Hyung?” Jisung asks but his eyes are firmly on you. How long has he been standing there?

“I didn’t catch what you said.”

Chan doesn’t take his eyes off you as he repeats himself, this time loud enough for Jisung, or anyone who might happen to be walking by to hear.

“I was just telling y/n here that you find it completely fucking annoying that she can’t imagine having your cock fill her up”.

Wow. How fucking blunt.

He breaks his gaze from you and looks up at Jisung who hasn’t moved. “Don’t you Jisung?”

Jisung nods.

Embarrassment floods over you now, dulling the dread just a little. You feel a pang of guilt. You realise you might be giving Jisung the impression that you don’t find him attractive, or that he isn’t fuckable. It isn’t him. You know plenty of people have the wildest fantasies about him. The problem is you. You're the one with some sort of fantasy cock block.

You feel awkward and out of place, out of your depth, but Chan and Jisung are giving off a dark, controlling and far from awkward energy. They seem to be quite fine with this, actually. It’s like time has slowed down for them. They are taking their time, silently planning their next move. They aren’t in a rush at all. It’s like they’ve caught their prey. You. And they are playing with you. Dragging out your fate.

It feels like an eternity before anyone speaks. And when they do it’s Jisung.

“Can I show her?” You can’t see his expression properly as the light is too dim. But from what you can tell he is giving off a mixture of energies: pissed off, lust and a hint of timidness. The timidness being toward Chan who seems to be orchestrating this whole situation.

“Yes, she needs to learn what it is you can do to her, so that she can’t imagine anyone but you fucking her.” Explains Chan.

Wait. What? Breathe. You need to breathe.

What did he just say? He needs to show you?

Jisung walks into the room, finally, and sits himself next to you on the couch. You won’t dare look at his face, instead you tentatively look down at his shoes in a bid to compose yourself. White sneakers. Okay. You slowly begin to run your eyes up his legs. Baggy jeans. You’re doing good. You trace his legs a little further up. Shit. He is fucking hard too. Even with the baggy pants and dingy light it is plain to see. Shit, don’t stare. To avoid lingering too long on his crotch, you quickly look up to a more appropriate eye line and see he is in an oversized black tee. His entire outfit is loose and baggy. It suits him.

You don’t want to look at his face. You're too ashamed. Why ashamed? Are you ashamed that you're finding this situation kind of hot? Ashamed to admit it because then Chan and Jisung would know you're into this? Even though, clearly, they are relishing this.

You try to push your thoughts aside and focus your attention on the collar of the shirt where it meets Jisung’s skin. His tanned, slender neck and protruding Adam’s apple looks so inviting. Your mind flashes to a vision of nibbling up his neck. Slowly. Taking your time.

Well, you can at least envision that, right?

Jisung scoots closer to you so that there is no space between you. The sides of your bodies are touching. You can barely breathe as he takes your chin in his hand and tips your head up gently to force you to look into his eyes. You have been avoiding his eyes, and you know why. You're held captive by them, like he's looking into your soul, like he can read your thoughts. His eyes are so big and Bambi-like and there is a desperate look in them, but his movements are confident and intentional.

“So can you at least imagine me this close to you ?” his voice is soft and low, and he casts his gaze down to your lips, almost brushing his lips with yours.

You shudder. He is so close you can feel his breath against your mouth. It’s intoxicating and it’s so intimate, although you know Chan is there too watching silently. You like that he’s watching, it heightens your arousal.

“What about this?” Jisung’s hand moves away from your jaw and begins tracing a circle on your knee with his index finger. Delicately, slowly, gently.

Your breath hitches, and you can feel yourself losing all rational thought.

With the side of his face still close to yours, he looks down to where his hand is and watches his fingers circling your skin, then looks back up to you to gauge your reaction. He bites his lower lip, his teeth digging into the flesh. God his lips are so soft and you have the urge to kiss him. You want to feel those lips on yours. You want him to bite your lip too.

As though sensing your desires, Jisung ever so delicately brushes his lips against the skin next to your mouth. He doesn’t want to give you what you want just yet. It appears he’s taking his time, making you wait.

He stops tracing your knee and places his whole hand on your thigh. His grip is gentle but firm with no hint of aggression or force.

“Can I kiss you?” he murmurs softly, his eyes downcast on on your lips.

You don’t say anything but lean your face in closer to his, and your lips meet. Gently. Just like all of Jisung’s movements so far, gentle but intentional. His lips feel soft and moist, and you immediately melt into the kiss. You part your mouth slightly and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips. His grip on your thigh tightens and you feel a sense of urgency and hunger rush over you.

You want him to kiss you harder, so you bring a hand to the side of his face and deepen the kiss. He gets the point and matches you with his own heated energy. The hand on your knee now moves around your waist, bringing you in closer to his body. Your breath becoming heavy as you both gasp for air between kisses.

This is better than anything you could have imagined alone in your bed fantasizing. You wouldn’t have ever been able to imagine the feel of his plush lips on yours, or his warm tongue, or the feel of his body pressed against you. The way it's making you feel, you wouldn’t have been able to do it justice in your mind.

He is so close and he feels so good. But you need him even closer. You forget where you are and that Chan is even there. Right now your whole world is focused on kissing Jisung, and how perfect it feels.

Until he pulls away abruptly. A little whine escapes you and you feel pathetic for giving away how you're feeling. Not that they can’t tell.

Jisung slinks down to the floor and kneels in front of you and you instantly feel both the urge to tense up due to how vulnerable you're feeling, and a sense of fuck it! and enjoy everything Jisung has to offer.

He places a hand on each of your legs and parts them, automatically hitching your skirt up to an indecent placement. This position allows Jisung to kneel closer to you between your legs.

“I need you to memorise everything I’m about to do.” Jisung looks up at you for a moment and then down at your legs. “I want you to memorise the feel of my breath and my lips as I kiss your inner thighs”. He leans down to kiss the top of your thigh near your knee. “I want you to memorise my tongue against your skin”. He kisses your thigh just a little further up. “Can you do that for me?” another kiss. Little gasps escape your mouth with each press of his mouth.

“Yes!” you respond, your voice raspy. You can feel a tension growing in your core and your whole body feels like jelly. Right now you'd let him do anything he wants. Absolutely anything.

“Good girl.” Another kiss to your skin. Good girl? Yes, you want to be a good girl for him.

“Y/n.” Chan’s voice is gentle and kind. You look over to him and Jisung halts his kisses.

“Jisung and I need you to know that you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

You look back and forth between the two men. They are waiting patiently for your answer. For your consent.

“Okay, I want to continue for now,” you answer “and...I want to memorise your tongue buried in my pussy” you add, just to see how Jisung would react to such a statement.

With that the mood shifts. Jisung growls and hooks an arm under each of your thighs and drags you closer to the edge of the couch, positioning you in a semi-reclined position.

He resumes his kissing of your right inner thigh, and holding your leg in place so you don’t start trying to close them. His other hand explores your left thigh, gently caressing and stroking the sensitive skin.

Your breathing is heavy, your chest heaving. You can’t take your eyes off of Jisung as his kisses approach your aching, wet pussy.

“You’re so beautiful.” he murmurs.

“She is, isn’t she?” cooes Chan.

You glance over to Chan who is palming himself through his tight jeans. He’s fucking getting off on this too. It only makes you feel hotter, more aroused. Being watched like this, it was something.

You're brought back to Jisung as he takes his attention to your other thigh now, again pushing your leg wider with one hand as he greedily delivers hot wet kisses to the delicate skin. He is a lot messier and urgent now. His right hand reaches the juncture of where your thigh meets your underwear, a dark red lace thong.

Jisung’s mouth, his lips, his tongue are still giving your left thigh all the attention in the world as it moves up to meet the other edge of your lace panties. His right thumb pauses at edge of your underwear. You need him to touch you.

“You’re such a good girl for us, y/n.” Chan says, his voice sounds breathy and hoarse.

There it is again. Good girl. This is becoming too much. The situation, the gentle yet messy kissing from Jisung, laying here with your legs in the air, Chan watching. It is the most erotic scene you've ever been part of. You feel like your going to come as soon as Jisung’s fingers slip under your underwear.

“Please.” You whimper. Jisung lifts his gaze. He looks so fucking seductive.

“Please what?” His voice is deep and full of lust. He looks like he wants to devour you. “Say it.” He demands.

“Please… I need you inside of me.” You mean it too. You feel like the world is going to end if he isn’t inside of you soon.

Jisung stops his kisses but his hands remain dangerously close to your cunt. You just want him to slide his fingers through your wetness and press his tongue to your clit. You need him to.

“Why?” he pushes.

Oh God. Why is he making you wait?

“Because,” Your breathing is heavy and being so aroused is making it hard to speak. “I need to learn what it is you can do to me, so that I can’t imagine anyone but you fucking me.” You echo Chan’s words from earlier.

Jisung’s eyes turn even hungrier. “That’s right, that’s why I need to be inside you. You remember. Good girl.”

With that Jisung swiftly removes your underwear, sliding then down your legs and flicks them to the side on the couch.

“Let’s get this skirt off you too.” he proceeds to slip your skirt off too. It has ridden up around your waist and feels uncomfortable. You're glad to get rid of it.

Jisung hooks his arms under your thighs again, hitching you back into the position you were in before. With one last “are you ready?” look from him, he buries his face in your pussy. You're soaking wet and your lips are engorged, ready for Jisung’s mouth.

He begins to slide his tongue from your entrance up to your clit, and sucks it greedily before starting again. He lets out a hungry moan, showing you how much he is enjoying this. The sensation is almost unbearable. You're so close to your climax, with every languid stroke of his tongue bringing you just that little bit closer to the edge.

Perspiration begins to coat your skin and your breathing is rapid. You reach down with one hand and tangle it in Jisung’s hair, pulling him in closer. You let out a pleading whimper. You need him closer, deeper. You need him inside. You need him to fill you up and consume your entire being.

While his tongue is still delivering the most insane attention to your clit, you feel his fingers at your opening. You tense up in anticipation. Finally, Finally, he sinks two fingers deep inside of you and your body relaxes with relief as you feel the stretch. You let out a long, low moan as you accommodate his fingers. Jisung exhales sharply, and Chan releases a shaky breath from the other couch. This is intense for everybody.

You're so very close now. You slide a hand under your left thigh to hold it higher and wider to give Jisung as much access as possible. With your other hand still in his hair you hold on for dear life as he curls his fingers applying pressure to your g-spot. Your eyes squeeze closed and you throw your head back as Jisung continues to hit that deliciously tender spot.

“Come for him, y/n.” Chan’s voice is hoarse and raspy. Jisung’s pace quickens as he fucks you with his fingers and you roll your hips against his face. Harder. You need it harder. He gets the idea and fucks you even harder with his fingers. You can hear the heavy and ragged breathing from the two men combined with your moans and gasps for air, and the wet, slippery noises of Jisung’s fingers in your pussy.

You can’t hold it any longer and your orgasm hits hard. You're suspended in the moment and time is standing still. Your breath stops as you hit your peak. Then waves of relief melt through your body, oozing through your veins and out your fingers and toes. Jisung helps you through it with a consistent pace, gradually easing off as you come down from your climax.

Holy fuck. You rest your head back and try to catch your breath. Jisung pulls away and you groan at the emptiness. You close your eyes taking a moment to savour this feeling.

“Taste her, Hyung.”

Your eyes dart open to see Jisung kneeling back on his heels, arm outstretched towards Chan, offering his wet glistening fingers to him. Chan sits on the edge of the couch and takes Jisung’s hand in his.

They look into each other's eyes as he takes his fingers into his mouth, sucking and licking his fingers that are covered in… you. Chan takes his time, making sure he gets every last drop. Chan knows how you taste. It's so erotic. The two men look so - intimate in this moment, as though there is something more than friendship between them. You watch mesmerized.

“Shit. This tastes so good, Jisung. Do you think she will be able to forget you now?” he says.

“But Hyung, I haven’t shown her everything yet.” Jisung sounds mischievous, his eyes have a naughty look to them, and his jeans are tented from his erection.

You can’t help it. You have to say something. “That’s right,” you begin, “I need to know what his cock feels like.”

Jisung looks at you eagerly and scoots back to his previous position kneeling between your legs. He wraps his arms around you and despite his eagerness, presses his lips against yours in a gentle kiss. He breaks away and leans his forehead against yours.

“Can I please fuck you?” he whispers. He kisses you again, this time slipping his tongue inside your mouth. You can taste yourself on his tongue. All three of you have had a taste now.

Jisung’s breathing is heavy as he works his kisses along your neck while he waits for you to give the green light.

“Yes.” you whimper.

Jisung pulls away and gets up from the floor. “Chan, help me move the chaise” he removes the drinks and glasses from the chaise-coffee table and Chan gets up to help him slide the piece of furniture towards you. You lift your legs up onto the couch allowing the chaise to sit flush with it, creating a bed-like setup.

You look over to Chan whose tighter than tight pants can barely hold him in. He is certainly enjoying the show that's for sure, and you wonder what he was feeling and thinking as he sucked Jisung’s fingers?

Jisung is on to top of you, sliding you down and laying you on your back along the newly configured furniture. Kissing you, caressing your cheek. “I’m not going to let you forget me.” He lifts your shirt over your head and eases you up to remove your bra.

You sigh at freedom. Jisung sighs at the sight. Chan groans from the side and you can see him unbuttoning his jeans. Although you can’t see clearly, you do see him unzip his fly and release his erect cock. It’s big, and he begins to stroke it, his eyes fixated on what was unfolding.

You grab Jisung’s hair as you frantically kiss his lips, his face, anything you can get your mouth to. You run your hands down his back to the hem of his t-shirt. You want it off. You want his bare body against yours. You tug his shirt up and he breaks the kiss to remove it, tossing it aside with your clothes.

“After this you are always going to imagine my cock inside of you. You know that right? You’re not going to forget me.” He says confidently between kisses. He is so sure of himself.

He grabs onto your leg as he lowers his hips between them and you can feel how hard he is. You roll your hips against him, most likely getting your wetness all over his jeans. Your hands explore his bare torso, running them over his muscles. His shoulders. Oh God. They are so toned. His whole body is strong and toned. So this is what he’s been hiding under his baggy clothes?

Jisung stops kissing you long enough to finish undressing and resumes his position and you part your legs as wide and high as you can. You need him as close, as deep, as possible. He lays over you, propping himself with one hand, and uses the other to line up his cock to your entrance. His eyes are locked on yours. You swallow hard.

This is it. You're about to get fucked by Jisung!

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull his face in so you can kiss him. As you do he pushes into you. Slowly. All the way in. You both exhale in relief as he stretches and fills you. He pauses for a moment and leans his forehead against yours. It’s like this moment is almost too much for him. He looks into your eyes as he pulls out just as slowly, almost the whole way, then pushes his cock back in. Slow and steady, pausing for a long moment each time he is buried all the way inside of you. He does this a few times before picking up the pace and thrusting a little harder and faster each time.

“You’re so good taking me like this.” He says between thrusts. “So. Fucking. Good”. He pulls out almost all the way again, and slams into you hard this time. Over and over. The sound of skin against skin filling the room. The leather upholstery of the couch squeaking as you're being fucked into it. Your moans grow louder. Jisung’s kissing and touching becomes less controlled, almost frantic, as his hips snap violently against you. Chan is rubbing his cock with a look of delight on his face.

Sweat covers Jisung’s body, a drop rolling down his brow, and you bring your hand up to wipe it away. This feels so fucking amazing. He his fucking you relentlessly and you don’t want it to end.

“Jisung,” You pant “you feel so good." He grins at you, pleased, not slowing for a moment. You smile back at him and try to remember his expression for later when you're alone.

“Jisung, make sure you fuck her good.” Chan reminds you he is still here. Still watching. You notice him stand up and walk around the back of the chase behind Jisung and over to your left. Is he going to get you to suck him off? But he doesn’t come any closer. Instead, he kneels on the couch to reach over to a chest of drawers and pulls out a tube of some kind.

He swiftly removes his shirt, tossing it to the growing pile of discarded clothing, and 61 ?.',;tfplaces a hand on Jisung’s sweat-sheened back, and slowly strokes his hand along his skin until he is standing behind him.

Jisung’s breath gets caught in his throat as he registers Chan’s touch. You watch Chan from underneath Jisung, and see him squirt some of the tube’s contents into his right hand.

You feel your climax build at the mere thought of what might be unfolding. Chan holds Jisung by the hip and steps closer to him. You can’t see exactly what is happening, but then Jisung sucks his breath in hard and then moans. It’s the sound of being teased and stretched. You're sure of it. Jisung's thrusts become wobbly and then he stops altogether, staying buried as deep as possible inside you.

Then another sharp gasp and a look of absolute pleasure washes over his face. A second finger, perhaps?

“Jisung, you’ve been so good to y/n, you deserve to feel extra good today.” You watch Chan with his eyes fixated on Jisung’s ass, biting his lip, hungry for him. He gently strokes and caresses his hip and thigh, then the small of his back.

“Do you think you can make her come again?” he says as he thrusts his fingers deep into Jisung who moans loudly.

“Maybe we could get her there together?” Chan adds.

Jisung nods desperately. “Yes.” He manages to muster. His whimpers let you know Chan has removed his fingers, it sounds a lot like yours when Jisung pulled his fingers from you. Desperate and pathetic.

You see Chan quirt a large amount of lube into his hand, and what seems to be him applying it to his cock. From this angle you can’t really see what he is doing with his lower half, but Jisung’s responses are giving you a good indication of what's happening.

Chan presses himself up against Jisung and you can feel the pressure of it push Jisung into you. From the look on Jisung’s face, the pressure against you, and the increase in volume in his groans, tells you that that Chan is penetrating him. When you think Chan is fully inside, you wrap your arms around Jisung’s neck again and pull him into another messy kiss. You're close. Really, really close.

“Jisung, you’re doing so good for me, I just need you to go a little harder for a moment”. You're not sure if he has heard you but you know he has when he immediately picks up the intensity. Chan seems to be holding off taking things any further with him for a moment, instead guiding Jisung’s hips into a steady rhythm.

Your orgasm washes over you this time. Pleasure coursing through your body. You're overcome with a flood of emotions and feel like you might to cry.

Jisung is still declaring how you will never be able to forget him, but his words are starting to become incoherent and jumbled. His hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat and his eyes have become unfocused. He is struggling to maintain control of his senses, especially because Chan is starting to move in and out of him now.

You lock eyes with Chan. His gaze anchors you back to the moment, grounding you in some way while the man between you is a mess, falling apart, whimpering and moaning incoherently.

Your eye contact instigates some sort of unspoken agreement. You both need to take care of Jisung. Make the next part all about making him feel good.

You break away from Chan’s gaze and turn your attention back to Jisung. Your hands are still around his neck, so you guide his head to rest against your chest.

“Jisung, it’s time to us take care of you now.” You coo, stroking his face. He is incredibly beautiful when he's a mess. “Can you let us do that?”

“Mmm hmm… please” Jisung begs, still lost in all the sensations.

“You took care of me so good, Jisung. And you’re still so hard inside of me.” It is true. His cock feels harder than ever, and you can feel the jolts of Chan’s thrusts becoming harder and faster.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Jisung” you whisper. You continue to hold and stroke Jisung, whispering reassurances to him. It feels like Chan is fucking him to death.

“I’m gonna come…” Jisung announces all of a sudden, and you feel his whole body tense up and his cock pulse as he releases himself inside of you.

Chan continues to thrust, his hips slapping against Jisung. Jisung goes limp on top of you, completely exhausted and you continue to hold him tightly.

“You did so good.” You whisper so only Jisung hears. He lifts his head and you hold his gaze. His eyes well up with tears.

“I did?” Jisung sounds like he is in disbelief.

“Yes, you were perfect.” You smile.

“You really won’t forget me?” Jisung’s voice sounds desperate. What started out as an order, a confident declaration of how you wouldn’t be able to forget what it feels like to be fucked by him, has turned into more of a pathetic and hopeful question. It makes you feel a swell in your chest and you want to wrap him up and look after him.

Chan is still fucking him relentlessly trying to reach his own climax. He hadn’t been making much noise except for a few grunts here and there, when suddenly, without warning, he becomes noisy, with high pitched breathy moans. Then lets out a long low groan as he empties himself inside Jisung. He leans down and kisses his back, then pulls out his cock gently. “I’m going to get some towels.” He walks off for a moment to gather the aftercare items.

Jisung pulls himself out of you, and lays against your side while you continue to hold and stroke his face. ‘Holy shit!” he says, “I didn’t know this was going to happen!” he lifts himself off you and props himself up on an elbow. He has pulled himself together slightly and he grins blissfully.

Chan returns with towels and he helps Jisung clean up, and Jisung helps you clean up. None of you say much as you find your clothes and get dressed again. But you do share blissed out, freshly fucked grins.

a/n: I know I said this blog is not for my lovely dovey stories... but this fic has so much sex, with multiple people, that it's going to live on this blog.

↳ tag list: open

@rylea08 @channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @kangnina @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @wolfennracha @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @rixenluv @piscesrising01 @lunearta

#skz smut #skz fic #chan smut #han jisung smut #chan x reader #han jisung x reader #sorshas fic

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highhhfiveee · 7 months

Text

mint (mike schmidt x reader)

*minor movie spoiler that isn’t a spoiler fr but kind of is*

tags: suggestiveness, swearing, fluff

oi. this is my first official piece of fanfic on tumblr and i'm excited but also super nervous. i never knew what characters i wanted to write for as most of my fandoms are obsolete tbh (teen wolf and maze runner, i'm looking at you 💔) but after watching the fnaf movie and falling in love with j hutch like i'm 14 again, i wanted to try to write for mike!

i'm sorry if this story sucks tbh. i wrote it pretty quickly, did not edit it in any way (watch for grammar and spelling errors!) and i'm still trying to establish characters and plot and do all this silly billy worldbuilding, but i'll get better! i'm also taking requests for both fluff and smut, so if y'all would like to send anything for me to write, i'll def accept! like i said in my last post, i think i'm gonna redo my tumblr layout so i can feel like a true fanfic/misc blog lmao so ignore its under construction phase ((: i hope y'all enjoy this though bc i've been thinking ab mike schmidt all night

i have sooo many ideas, but between last night and this morning, i’ve been thinking of abby’s babysitter!reader (bc fuck max).

you’ve been channel surfing in the living room since you put abby down, working with her to lock down a nightly routine. ideally, she’d bathe, eat dinner (god willingly), brush her teeth, and then you’d be able to get her to lay in bed and doze off. some nights, this required dessert.

“you just brushed your teeth though. it’s gonna taste gross.”

“not if it’s one of those mint chocolate things you always have.” you straighten up, eyes squinted at the child before you; she meant the small, sometimes melted, squares of Andes mint chocolate you always kept. they’d always been your favorite, a guilty pleasure in this fucked up world.

you hadn’t been babysitting abby for long, and you didn’t realize that she'd been watching you crush the chocolates like it was light work. they were easy to eat, and once you had one, you found out how easy it was to eat another one, and then another one, and then another one until there was a mountain of crinkled foil next to your phone and chocolate smeared on your face.

"please, y/n. just one," you didn't exactly know if it was a lie. abby was convincing, able to break you down with her eyes, pleading and puppy-dog like. "please."

you cave, leaning down to brush her hair back from her forehead and place a gentle kiss on the skin. with pursed lips, you whisper, "fine, but tomorrow night. i have to get some more."

abby does nothing but smile, eyes fluttering closed. you stay with her for a bit like you always do--watching the way her chest rises and falls, and how her features twitched with slumber. features scarily similar to mike's.

of course she'd look like mike. they were siblings, no shit, but the resemblance occupied your brain. there was sweet abby, with her colorful clothes and scribbled drawings and persuasive aura, and then there was mike.

you shake your head, giving abby another kiss before exiting her room. you didn't need to think about mike. he wasn't what you were here for. you'd come to abby's school as an aide and after she'd privately confided in you about her home life, you knew you had to help her. you would do anything for her, even if that meant taking care of her while suppressing the overwhelming school girl crush you had on her older brother.

mike was a bit older than you, which didn't scare you at all. guys in their early 20s were rarely mature, doing anything they could just to fuck; but guys in their late 20s, mike specifically, had only ever shown you couth, surprisingly.

for nearly two months, five mornings a week, the sound of the door being unlocked would ring out. you'd turn to see sunshine pouring into the living room, enveloping mike's brooding figure in a radiant golden glow.

he'd hang his coat on the wall hooks, drop his bag down to his feet, and give you a small but warm smile. you'd try to not to embarrass yourself as you two made small talk, packing up your things.

you always left unscathed, but recently it'd been hard. you were always thinking about him, dreaming about him even; how his hair would feel between your fingers, how his hands would feel on your face, how his face would feel between your thighs.

the thought is washed away, drowned out by the sound effects of a loud infomercial when the door opens, and you're turning and squinting against the wash of pale yellow on your face. mike steps forward with a, "hey, y/n" and you meekly raise your hand to wave.

he hangs his hoodie up to reveal his shoulder blades flexing under an uncharacteristically tight navy blue sweater. you can't help but stare.

"just wake up?" his voice is raspy, but he's still facing the wall, rummaging in his bag for something.

"um...yeah. brain's still turning on," you lie, tossing the thick blue blanket off your body. you didn't sleep at all, kept up with your thoughts and the last of your Andes mints (though you loved her, you couldn't give abby your last ones).

"hm," he mutters, finally turning to you but keeping his hands behind his back. something crinkles in them and you raise your eyebrow at the tired yet amused expression he takes with you. it's enough to make your body hot and you awkwardly pull at the collar of your shirt, fanning yourself off.

"hot?" the gravelly tone sends you into a giggling fit, shaking your head as you shoot to your feet. you have to leave before you do or say something you regret.

"uh, yeah, it was s-super hot under that...um...blanket. i shouldn't have worn sweatpants to s-sleep," you stutter, nodding your head along with mike as he steps closer to you. this couldn't be the moment something happens, right? it'd been so casual between you too, very friendly, and he'd never shown any signs of trying to do anything with you before. why would he choose right now, so spontaneously?

he stands before you, the slightest bit taller than you. you're able to see every pore, every freckle, every microscopic detail in his eyes and lips.

you open your mouth, hoping your heart doesn't fall out, to ask what's happening, when he reveals a bag of Andes mints, one bigger than you've ever seen.

your mouth stays open in surprise. "wh-"

"abby's been talking about them. i wondered where she found out about them but--" he nudges his head towards the coffee table, where a small mound of green wrappers lay. you swear under your breath, cursing yourself for not throwing them away like you usually do.

"i'm sorry," you whisper, blushing beyond measure as you begin to frantically pack your things. "i should be more careful with that stuff."

"god, y/n, you're saying it like it's coke," mike chuckles. he sets the bag down on the couch and reaches out to you, placing his hand on yours as you shove things into your tote. "hey."

his voice forces you to stop and look up. you melt under his stare just like you do with abby. the puppy-dog thing must run in the family.

"i feel bad about not being able to pay you yet, and i really appreciate all you're doing. abby told me that you loved those mints, so..."

"thank you, mike," you say over the sound of your pounding heart. you didn't care about the money, you didn't need it. being appreciated by someone who made your heartbeat resonate throughout your body was payment enough. "this is really sweet."

"thank you, y/n. you don't know how much this means to me." You scoff, throwing your tote over your shoulder and looking down at your feet.

"i'm always happy to help." you and mike stand facing each other for what feels like hours, the air as thick as molasses between you. his eyes were squinted, low and dark and intriguing.

you wished you could read his mind. what was he thinking? did his heart do the same thing as yours, wacking against his ribcage with no end in sight? did he stay up thinking about you when he was supposed to be sleeping, imagining how you felt, what you sounded like, how you tasted---

"see you later tonight?" his voice rocks you out of your trance. he's not thinking about you. he's tired, wondering when you'll leave so he can fall into his bed and doze off.

"yeah. tell abby i said i'll see her tonight." your smile is tight as you exit the house, cursing at yourself as you get into your car.

you didn't know how long you could go on like this.

ya, i know this sucks and it isn't really anything but we're gonna work our way through these fics and blurbs to really develop a cute relationship (,: i will still be writing other fics for mike, and possibly using another babysitter!reader in a different universe, but as for now, we're gonna be rocking with these two (: (thinking that we’ll label her as 🌱🍫!reader)

all notes are appreciated (: thanks for reading!

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #fnaf #fnaf movie #mike schmidt fluff #faire is writing stuff #fnaf fic

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lukall705 · 2 months

Note

Hii!! Can I req Chuuya x SH reader? Can be both angst and fluff, you don't have to tho if you don't wanna <3

𝓒𝓱𝓾𝓾𝔂𝓪 𝔁 𝓖𝓝! 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

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This is another thing i didn't expect people to request, and it brings me so much comfort when i find sh comfort fanfics:(

If you are struggling with sh please know i'm always open to talk if you want:) and i'll try to comfort you to the best of my ability! (i'm usually not on here during the day so you can ask me for my discord in dms)

I'M SO SRRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO MAKE I REALLY NEEDED A BREAK SINCE I WAS SO STRESSED FROM SCHOOL 😭

Also, English isn't my first language so please dont mind any spelling errors!!

TW: SH, gore? Talk about fresh SH cuts, Might be ooc😓 please tell me if i missed anything!

Words: 1,3k

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sometimes in life things don't go the rigth way, is what people say, they say "sometimes in life things don't go the way we want, but thats just how it is"

But right now it felt like absolutely nothing was going the right way, you felt like the whole world was against you, like you were some useless peace of garbage that could be thrown out at anytime, like there was no one in this damn world that would sit down and listen to your pityfull problems. you were at your abselut worst.

And the only thing that could help the with it was the razor in your hand, which is cutting your thigh. you move almost like a robot, you don't even feel the pain of the razor anymore. everything seems like a dream, all the blood coming out of your cuts and dripping and mixing in with the water of the bathtub, your vision being slightly blury.

You can feel your heart pounding in your chest as you bring your razor to your Radial vein. you shake slightly as you look down at your wrist debating if you should cut it or not.

As you start breathing faster you look at the suicide note you left on the chair next to the bathtub. you wondered how long it would take for chuuya to find you, would he even care if you died?

you feel tears start to run down your face and you start to sniffle uncontrollably.

As you're about to cut the vein you hear a loud knock on the door, "[name]? baby are you in there..?" your boyfriend chuuya asks in a quiet voice.

You quickly wipe your tears and panic a bit as you didn't lock the door since you weren't expectinc chuuya to come home this early, "Y-yeah.." you say trying to not sound sad, but knowing chuuya he most likely heard the saddnes in your voice.

"Darling.. is something wrong..?" He asks in a conserned voice, "i'm just.. washing my hair" you try to come up with an exuse while your whole body is shaking. "Darling, you washed your hair yestarday tho? are you really okay in there..?"

'Damn i forgot about that' you think while trying to find a place to hide the razor. While you panic you some how bump into the soaps and knock them down making a loud noise. "Baby are you okay? i'm coming in" he says and opens the door, "NO WAIT!" but before you can stop him, he has already opened the door and seen your cuts.

.....

After a few moments of silence and staring at each other, chuuya finally makes a move closer to you.

"...Chuuya.. please i'm sorr-.." You try to explain but your voice starts to shake and you feel a lump in your throat. "...shh.." He quitelly walks closer to you and wipes the small tears that have started to for in your eyes.

"...I'm so sorry.. i k-know i said i'd.. try to stay clean for you.. i tried my best.. i swear.. i'm sorry.. please.. p-please don't get mad.." You sob as more and more tears start falling from your eyes. Your vision is starting to blur from all the tears, so much so that you can't even see chuuya anymore.

"....shh... darling.. i would never be mad at you.. what could ever make you think that..? i understand how hard it is to recover from something like this.." He whispers into your ear while holding you close, not even caring about the blood staining his clothes.

All you can do is cry and cry, you cant even manage to answer his question, all that came out if your mouth were pityfull sobs and 'i'm so sorry'. Chuuyas shoulder was becoming wet form all the tears but he didn't mind, he would do anything just so that you could feel better.

After some time of Chuuya trying to comfort you and trying to get you to tell what happened, did you finally calm down slightly, just enough for you to able to answer his questions.

....

Chuuya starts washing your cuts gently, you both sit there in silence with the only sound beinf your small sniffles and some small choked sobs.

After a few seconds chuuya decides to break the slience, "..Darling, please.. what happened that made you relapce..?" he asks with a gentle tone while holding your shaking hands in his. For a moment you stay slient, wiping your tears. "...i... i-i've...", you say in a shaky voice trying to break out into a crying mess again. Right at this moment you didn't know what to say, you really didn't know how to say what made you do it.

"...take your time..", Chuuya's soft voice snaps you out of your trance, you feel his thumbs rubbing on top of your hands in a comforting way.

"...its hard to say.... i-i don't know how to put it into words..", you whisper, hoping chuuya wouldn't be mad. You're scared he'll be mad at your answer, scared he'll force you to talk, force you like your mother would always do. You remember the first time you relapsed she got mad and forced you to talk, even when you were crying.

"..thats fine.. its not always easy to put something like this into words.." Chuuya caressed your back in a comforting way, making you want to just cry, cry so hard and let everything out, everything that has been bothering you, all your worries and troubles. You felt so comfortable in his arms, like you were safe. "would writing it help?", he asks and runs his fingers through your hair.

You burry your face in his neck and nod, feeling him pick you up and carry you over to your bedroom. He gently puts you on the bed and you slightly whine from the stinging pain that came from your cuts, holding back your tears. '..i'm sucha an idiot..' you think while watching chuuya leave the room to go get paper.

....

Chuuya comes back after some time with a piece of paper and a pen. He gives you the stuff and sits down next to you while waiting for you to write on the paper.

You sit there for a second before starting to write about how you've been feeling really insecure about yourself and thinking that you arent enough for him and that he should be with someone else. Once you're done writing you hesitate to give the paper back to chuuya for a bit, but you decide to just do it.

Once its in Chuuyas hands, you look away embaressed about the thngs you wrote, hoping he wouldn't judge you for it.

After a bit of silence, chuuya finally says something, "Darling.. why didn't you tell me..? i could've helped you feel better.." He says quietly and you just look down ashamed feeling like everything is your fult. You knew you should have told him, maybe then you wouldn't be in so much pain at the moment.

You felt like you were about to cry again, you felt weak. You just wanted to lay down and forget about the world around you.

"...i was scared.. i'i was so scared you'd be mad at me..." Your voice breaks as you try to explain everything to him. Chuuya sit there with you in his arms listening to you with a worried look on his face.

"...darling i would never hate you.. you're the most important person in my life, i would never be mad at you for relapcing.." He says while stroking your hair and rocking back and forth slowly. you hug him tight, like your scared he'll be gonne once you let go of him.

For the rest of the night chuuya keeps you in his arms while he comforts you and tells you how much he loves you.

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Grr the end was rushed 😓😓

Anyways, pleae give me some feedback, it really helps me when people tell me what i should try to be better at.

Do not repost this on any other website without asking me first and giving me credit!!

Requests: Closed for now

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carakook · 3 months

Text

Bloom. °˖✧✿✧˖°

“I said, don’t. Just shut the fuck up and let me have this. Just one more time, please…”

→ Chapters list ←

⚘4. Spring Is Gone

🔞For Mature Audiences Only🔞

╔══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╗

⚘Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x fem!reader

⚘Synopsis: After being granted with “closure”, you try to enjoy your last night with Jungkook. It’s an emotional and fucking steamy mess.

⚘Genre:Forbidden love

⚘Word count: 13K+ 🥴

⚘Warnings: 18+ for mature audiences only, MDNI, emotional, mentions of cheating, active cheating, HEAVY smut, mouth spitting, wine kissing (idk if it’s actually called this but it’s what I have always called it LMAO), crying during sex, emotional sex, EMOTIONAL EVERYTHING YOU WILL CRY I AM WARNING YOU, grief, breaking up (sort of?), panic/anxiety attacks, alcohol, stealing (lol it’s kinda cute you’ll see,) making love (different from fucking), sort of rough, unprotected sex (always be careful, Y/N is on BC!), SAD JUNGKOOK I REPEAT SAD JUNGKOOK!!!! let me know if I miss anything there is a lot in this chapter.

⚘Disclaimer: This story in no way reflects the characters of those who are mentioned. It is pure fiction and for entertainment purposes only. Please don’t take it seriously. Nothing is real in this story.

⚘A/N: The long awaited chapter. This is a long one. I cried. A lot. Holy shit? It’s actually so sad lol but also has some good smut. This isn’t the last chapter, as I said before this is a full on fanfic, I also have it on Wattpad but it gets barely any reads so if you are interested in that let me know. After this chapter, things get very… drama filled? Idk a good word for it lol. I hope you enjoy, and I’m sorry in advance if you cry. I highly recommend listening to the songs, each of them have a place in every chapter which is why I list them lol. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy. Love you.❤️

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↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ :

♪Merry Go - DPR Ian

♪Gimmie Love - Joji

♪The Astronaut - JIN

♪Dope Lovers - DPR Ian

♪sex money feelings die - Lykke Lie

♪Angel - The Weeknd

♪Nerves - DPR Ian

♪505 - Arctic Monkeys

♪I Love You So - The Walters

♪Apocalypse - Cigarettes After Sex

♪Cry - Cigarettes After Sex

✧━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━✧

Since you both agreed on enough of the heavy shit, you spend time together. The mood is heavy for some time, almost awkward, which is why you break out the several bottles of wine you bought this week in an attempt to cope with the end of you and your flower. You’d much rather drink it with him anyway.

You can always buy more.

The wine helps. After you’ve both had a glass, it feels less strained. You continue eating pizza and watching whatever sappy drama is on TV. He picks up on his rant, starts explaining how sex is definitely comparable to pizza; sex creates life, and without sex, we wouldn’t have discovered pizza. Makes total sense. It’s stupid, but he has a point—a very Jungkook thing to think up.

By the time you’re both three glasses deep, you’re a bit wine-drunk. He holds his liquor much better than you do, but you can tell he’s feeling all fuzzy inside. You check your phone as he sits sprawled out on your couch, taking up almost the entire damn thing with his bulky ass. It’s nearly 11:30 pm… around the time he should probably go home.

You glance at him, debating whether to subtly kick him out or not. You don’t want to, god no. It literally makes you sick thinking about it. But you shouldn’t let him stay either, should you? You’re supposed to end this. This was the last night.

But you see how content he looks—like a big, overgrown spoiled dog with a belly full of treats, relaxing next to his favorite person.

You did say one last night… technically the night isn’t over. And he shouldn’t drive in this state, really, if anything, it’s just for his safety…

So you nudge his leg with your foot, and he turns his head lazily towards you, arches a brow, “Hm?”

“Sleep over?”

Oh, he fucking grins. His dimples on show, his eyes crinkling up adorably, and his big bunny like teeth saying hi.

Because what you don’t realize is he wasn’t going to leave. Fuck no. You said one last night, and he was going to milk that for everything it was. No way in hell was he going to go home tonight. If he’s being frank, that’s why he drank three glasses of wine. He didn’t need it. But he knew he could use it as a loophole to staying the night. You wouldn’t let him drive drunk.

He knows damn well what he’s doing, and he’s elated that you offered to let him stay. It means you want him here.

Even after all the bullshit, you still want him here. You want to prolong it, too.

“Hell yeah.”

He winks and then leans up a bit to stretch, causing his shirt to lift and give you the most indulgent peak of his stomach. You shamelessly stare, and he absolutely notices, lifting his arms a bit higher just to give you a better look.

He loves it when you look at him like that.

But then he stands up, casually grabs his car keys from the coffee table, as if he isn’t fucking teasing you.

Fuck. The wine is definitely kicking in. The warm fuzzies in your tummy are spreading elsewhere.

“Gonna go grab some stuff from my car then, make sure it’s locked, I’ll be right back.”

You hum in response and lean back into the couch. Watch him as he walks out the door, and find comfort in the fact that you know he’s coming back… even if it’s the last time.

Jungkook is doing his best not to let his mind wander to the more damning thoughts as he walks out of your complex and into the parking lot. Because he feels the opposite, no comfort at all. His anxiety is spiked now that you’re out of sight. What if you don’t let him in when he makes his way back to you? What if you change your mind about the sleepover? What if you decide you hate him?

Not only that, but he feels like he’s wasting precious time. As if the five minutes he will be away from you (barely) are irreplaceable and he’s just wasting them. It’s literally the end of the world… he shouldn’t be wasting time.

But that’s just his anxiety speaking. In truth, he doesn’t actually need the things in his car… but he packed a few things before showing up unannounced—things he wanted to leave you with.

Such as the little Polaroid camera you bought for him months ago, one that you yourself have used every single time you’re together. You always snap little candid pictures of him, sometimes yourself. He finds your fascination with the thing so fucking cute. He uses it, too, of course. He often takes pictures of you without you even knowing it… and you’ve both definitely taken some more raunchy pictures, pictures that he keeps hidden away in a box for when he misses your touch. For his eyes only. They’re priceless to him, probably some of his most prized possessions.

Speaking of those photos, he also packed a box full of them just for you. Pictures you’ve taken of him, of both of you, of anything and everything. He wants you to have them, wants you to be able to look at them when you miss him a little too much. He went through the photos over the last few days of no contact, greedily picked out his favorites, and put them into his own box for the same purpose. But he picked a generous amount out for you, too.

And as corny as it may sound, he packed a few pieces of his clothing. He knows how much you love stealing his shit, especially his shirts. Several are still missing, but he won’t ask for them back. He’Ll gift you with more, made sure to spray his cologne on them too, so that you can smell him on them. He packed his favorite shirt, hoodie, and something he will reluctantly, but willingly, part with. His denim jacket.

All of them are Calvin Klein branded. The shirt is basic, just a black shirt that’s fitted on him but swallows you whole. It’s the one you often steal when you sleep over at his second apartment, but he never let you take it home because it was his favorite. It’s worn in and soft, that’s why he likes it. But it’s yours now, just like him.

The hoodie is the same, basic black, one that you always tried to steal but never succeeded in doing so. It’ll be like a warm hug when you miss him, he thinks. You’ll love it more than he will. You’ll need it more than him on nights that you feel lonely.

The jean jacket isn’t anything special in appearance. It’s dark denim but is lined in that soft wool that keeps you warm and cozy. He wore it often in the cold months, thought it made him look handsome, but also kept him comfy. He’d rather you have it. He wants to keep you warm forever, hold you in his arms and never let go, make sure you never feel cold again… but he can’t exactly do that. So instead, he’ll give you his jacket.

The last thing is one of his chains. God, he knows you love those damn chains. He almost always wears one, silver or gold, depending on the day. And you always make sure to tell him how much you like them. He never really understood it; it’s something so simple. But you swooned for it. After you guys fuck, you’re always touching it, playing with it. Even when you guys aren’t fucking, you seem to have the impulse to touch it. Maybe it’s a girl thing, he doesn’t know. But he’s giving you one since you liked it so much.

Definitely a girl thing.

He also brought the bottle of perfume you dropped on his floor that night you stormed off… he was going to give it back. Return it to its rightful owner. But as he’s grabbing the bag full of goods out of his car… he impulsively takes it out. Wants to keep it. Wants to be able to smell you, too. He’s sure you won’t miss it.

You won’t miss that perfume as much as he’s going to miss you.

He quickly grabs the bag of stuff, nearly dropping it as he grows more restless because he’s not with you right now. You’re too far away, and every single second counts tonight.

So he rushes back into your complex building, nearly full-on sprinting back to your door.

As he lets himself back in, you’re in the exact same position. Sitting comfy on the couch, eyes on the TV, your wine glass a bit more empty now. Thank fuck.

He wasn’t even gone for more than four minutes. And yes, you did notice, you didn’t like it. But you knew he’d come back. So you waited. Wasn’t a big deal.

He’s just dramatic, for good reason of course. You can see the unease written all over his face as he pads his way back towards you, sets the bag next to your couch. He doesn’t disclose what’s in it and you don’t ask, you just assume it’s the bag he usually keeps in his car for impromptu nights like this.

He doesn’t want to present these little gifts to you yet… because he feels like that’s what’s going to really finalize it. So he’ll wait a little longer.

Would put it off forever if he could.

He takes a seat next to you, obnoxiously close. Your couch isn’t big, but there’s enough for two people to have a comfortable distance from each other. He doesn’t care. He wants to make sure he’s touching you in some way, so he nearly squishes you as he sits down as casually as ever and slings one of his arms on the back of your couch so that his fingertips rest on your shoulder.

He has an almost jittery energy about him right now. Obviously, emotions are heavy; it’s your last night together. It’s kind of hard to act totally ok and normal when you’re both well aware that this is the last night. But even then, somethings a bit off.

You study him for a moment, notice how he’s running his teeth over his lip ring again, how his leg is bouncing up and down a bit even as he tries to mimic a relaxed position on the couch. Maybe he’s anxious?

He is. However, that’s not what this is all about. He wants to kiss and touch you so badly it hurts. But now he’s unsure if he’s allowed. He doesn’t know what’s on and off limits tonight, and he doesn’t want to jeopardize your time together by fucking it up and making unwanted advances.

Overthinking. He wishes he didn’t do that. But he doesn’t even realize it’s happening until after things are said and done, doesn’t know how to stop it.

You assume maybe it’s just nervous energy thanks to the impending sense of doom you both feel. You feel similarly… but you hide it better.

More wine would help, you think.

So you lean forward and grab the bottle which is half empty, this is the second bottle of tonight. You top off each of your glasses as Jungkook watches, and you take a sip.

His eyes stay glued to your lips. He loves your lips. Loves all of you, but especially your lips. He thinks that will be one of the things he misses the most. How soft and pillowy they are, how they’re a bit rosey in color, how they taste, how they pout out a bit when you drink wine, how wine stains your lips so prettily, how they feel wrapped around his—

Yeah. Fuck it. One last night.

“Gimmie some.”

You glance at him and arch a brow, wonder if he’s referring to the wine… or maybe pizza? You literally just topped his wine glass off. He’s being weird.

“I just topped you off?”

He shakes his head, “Nah, I want yours.”

You scoff at him because now he’s just being childish. But he’s looking at you so expectantly, almost stubbornly, as if he’s asking for something more than the wine he’s demanding.

And he is. He doesn’t even really know what though. He’s being greedy, wants your wine because your lips touched the glass, because remnants of your spit might have melted into the wine after taking sips. He doesn’t want his own damn wine.

He wants to be greedy tonight. It’s not like he has anything to lose, he’s already lost it all.

So he reaches over and takes the wine glass from you, gets a bit impatient when he sees you aren’t gonna give it to him right away. He takes a slow sip, places his lips in the same exact spot yours have been every time you’ve taken a drink. It’s ridiculous, really… but he swears he tastes the faintest essence of you on the glass. Closes his eyes, swishes the wine around in his mouth, trying to see if he can taste more of you…

Ok, so, he’s definitely being a bit ridiculous. But fuck, he already feels like he’s going crazy. Can’t really help himself when he is desperately craving any little crumb of you.

You don’t know what to make of this. Part of you is amused, part of you is irritated, because he just stole your damn wine. But you also know there must be more to it, there has to be.

He cracks an eye open, sees you staring at him like he’s crazy, because he kinda is. Only for you, of course. He just swallows the wine and shrugs innocently.

“Yours is better, mine tastes weird.”

You roll your eyes at him because he has the same wine as you do. You can’t figure out what his game is here. So you reach over and take his wine and say, “Yours is literally the same as mine.”

To prove a point you take a sip of his. Just as expected, tastes the exact same as yours. He watches you carefully… gets an idea. An incredibly impulsive,almost intrusive idea.

But again… it’s the last night. And he’s greedy.

You huff at him and point his wine glass (which is now yours apparently) at him as you watch him take a huge gulp out of your glass again.

“Yeah, see, tastes the exact-“

He abruptly grabs the nape of your neck and cups your jaw with his free hand, his thumb coming to rest on your bottom lip and lowering it. He places his lips on yours, waits until your mouth instinctively opens just as it always does for him, and then funnels the wine into your mouth.

Fucking feeding you the wine like a baby bird.

It catches you by surprise at first, causing you to cough a bit and causing the wine to dribble down your chin, but you quickly gulp it down just like he gulps down the little gasp and cough you let out. He kisses you greedily, doesn’t even build up to it before he’s pushing his tongue into your mouth and swirling it against yours, tasting the heady mixture of wine and you. Fuck, you’re his favorite taste.

You don’t protest; of course you don’t. Was definitely a bit bizarre, but also… fuck, that was hot. Was a bit weird but in a super sexy way. You kiss him back, letting out little huffs of air into his mouth as one of your hands also finds the nape of his neck. The other hand automatically rests against his chest, clings to the fabric of his shirt tightly.

You both stay like this as long as possible. The kiss only grows more desperate and aggressive, teeth and tongue clashing beautifully together like thunder and rain. Your soft pants turn into eager breathes at some point, and he knows you need to breathe. But fuck, he wants to stay lip locked with you until he passes out.

This is when you start to second-guess things. Yes, this is the last night together… but knowing it’s ending makes the guilt a bit more prominent. This wouldn’t be ending if it wasn’t wrong, but it is wrong; sleeping with him again just seems so contradictory or maybe even hypocritical.

So you push at his chest lightly, a silent signal for him to slow down. God, he hates the way his stomach lurches. Can’t fathom the idea that you might kick him out right now. Please, god, don’t do this. I’m not a weed, I swear, I’m her fucking flower. I need her one more time, he silently prays even though he’s never been religious or prayed before.

When he pulls back with heavily lidded eyes, you speak up hesitantly, even though you don’t wanna stop, god not at all.

“Kook, we shouldn’t…”

That’s all you say. Because it’s really that simple. You shouldn’t be doing this; you should never have done it at all. But even then, you lack the ability to convince him. Because you want him, one last time. You’re just having a hard time willingly giving in again.

Jungkook knows you well. Knows your body language. He knows that if you truly wanted him to stop, you would’ve been more self assured when speaking. You wouldn’t sound like a meek little mouse, you’d be firm in telling him know. He can see the same thing in your eyes, it’s pure unadulterated want. But maybe you need reassurance, reassurance that one last time is ok, is needed.

You’ve both sinned so much already, one more time won’t change shit.

So his grasp on your jaw firms up a bit, he starts feeling a little too passionate about this. He coaxes your mouth open by smooshing your cheeks a bit before saying,

“Y/N, fucking don’t. Just let us have this, please.”

“But Kook-“

He grunts in frustration. Just as impulsively as he fed you wine kisses, he spits in your mouth. It makes you flinch, makes your pussy clench because fuck it’s so filthy but so hot. So intimate in a sort of fucked up way.

“I said, don’t. Just shut the fuck up and let me have this. Just one more time, please…”

He leans back down and starts kissing you again, licking into your mouth and adding more to the spit he put there moments ago. Doesn’t even give you a chance to protest. He kisses you like he’s going to die if he doesn’t. He’s sure he will. He’ll die a miserable death if he doesn’t love you one more time.

It's a bit harsh, but you know each other enough to know he isn’t trying to be forceful or rude; he’s just desperate. You are too, honestly. You know damn well if you said no and meant it, he would pull away and stop immediately. Your body has always been safest with him. You don’t want to stop, not really. You’re thankful he’s being like this. It’s the push you need to ignore the guilt for a while longer and share your body with him one last time.

When he feels that you’ve melted into him, with no more tension or hesitancy in your body, he pulls away, nipping at your lower lip once and then sucking on it. Then his lips travel down, and he licks the wine staining your chin off before placing sloppy kisses down your neck.

He doesn’t even ask before he starts sucking and licking on your sensitive skin. Not kitten licks, not gentle sucks, no, he’s full-on giving you hickeys, and you know it. You know it’s intentional when you feel him pull back a bit to take a peak, only to lean back in a second later and bite.

The hand on his nape fists into his hair, and your back arches a bit, causing your chest to push against his chest, “Fuck, Kook…”

You should tell him to stop marking you up like this. You don’t like showing up to work or visiting friends with visible hickeys because questions get asked. And as much as you wish you could admit who they’re from, you can’t. No one knows about Jungkook. No one even knows you’re seeing someone right now, and you don’t want to have to come up with some story to cover your ass.

It’s a secret for you too.

But it’s the last night together… and the idea of having his hickeys on your neck, just to remind you a little longer that this was real, he was real, it’s an idea you quite like. Fucking love, actually.

He grunts at you, bites down a little harder, “What? Told you your wine was better…”

You let out a little breathy laugh when he says this, because of course he would play it coy, as if he didn’t just randomly start devouring you. Of course he’d blame it on the damn wine.

That breathy laugh quickly turns into a moan when one of his hands finds your tit, he starts squeezing and groping it through your shirt shamelessly, tweaking your nipple in the way he knows you love. God, he loves your tits. They’re the perfect size for him, he swears. They fit into his palm perfectly, feel like pillows, just like your lips. All of you is just so soft.

He kisses his way down your neck now that it’s all marked up in pretty purple and pink bruises blossoming, much like you do every single time he touches you like this. When he gets to your chest, he looks up at you through his lashes, and then he nearly rips your shirt off of you when he pulls it down.

His eyes leave yours as he looks down at the beautiful pillows on your chest. He just admires them for a moment, as if he’s at an art gallery studying each piece of art. That’s what you are, art. Everything about you inside out is otherworldly beautiful to him, tits included.

At this point, you’re lying down on your couch, legs parted for him. It’s a bit awkward because of how small the couch is, but that doesn’t stop either of you. He doesn’t give a fuck that he barely fits. He’ll make himself fit… just like he’s made himself fit into your life for months.

He wants to fit into your life just one more time, one more night, wants to meld together and tangle your roots so that it’s impossible to untangle them. He knows it’s wishful thinking, but that’s where this is all coming from. He’s not being aggressive and eager and greedy just because he’s horny, no, he’s doing this because maybe, just maybe, if he shows you with his body how much he loves you… how much he needs you… you’ll change your mind one day.

His mouth descends on your left breast, and he starts licking and sucking on your nipple. Your eyes roll back, and your entire body shudders at the sensations, fuck, it always feels like the first time. Before him, men didn’t pay such close attention to your body. Never even had a guy play with your tits before, Jungkook was the first. It was so odd at first, but it quickly became one of your favorite things. Makes you get so wet so fast.

You love how he looks up at you when he does it, his eyes full of asters and stars alike, hearts and moons, lust mixed with love and it’s a dizzying sight. You wonder if this is how you look when you go down on him, if that’s why it unravels him so quickly. You’d understand if so, you wish so badly you could snap a picture of him like this and preserve it.

It’s funny because he’s thinking the same thing. How beautiful you look when he goes down on you, how your eyes mimic his own, and how you have a hard time controlling your facial expressions when the pleasure is too intense. His favorite thing is when you start furrowing your brows and almost pouting at him without realizing it; the little pants and mewls you let out without meaning to, it drives him absolutely insane.

He wants to capture it, too. Fuck, tonight is a night to remember, he wants everything solidified in film. Every single kiss and touch and whisper spoken tonight, he needs to preserve it.

He sucks on your nipple for a few more seconds, his other hand flicking the nipple on your right breast. Wants to get you all worked up for him. he then pulls back, letting go of your tit with a wet pop sound. Lets his hands rest on your thighs and rubs his palms up and down them as he takes you in.

You let out a little whine when he pulls away, but you don’t protest. His pupils dilate heavily as he looks down at you because, holy fuck, you’ve never let him mark you up like this. He doesn’t even like giving hickeys, thinks it’s a bit immature, something meant for college. But seeing you blooming pink and purple from your neck down to your pretty tits? It makes his cock twitch hard in his sweats.

He removes one hand from your thigh, and reaches down to palm himself through his sweats. He squeezes his cock as he takes in your already debauched look. Marked up, tits out, lips swollen, eyes heavy… fuck. You may be what kills him, not heart break.

One last squeeze to his cock to relieve a bit of the pressure, and he lets go of it. He knows you’re getting a bit impatient by how you’re shifting in your spot, but you know he wants to take his time tonight. So you don’t say anything, no matter how much you wanna beg for his dick or his mouth.

He leans over the couch to unzip the bag he brought, grabs the Polaroid, and then readjusts himself between your legs. He sets the camera down on your stomach and brings his hands back to where your thighs are spread prettily for him.

You arch a brow, and he gives you a little smile. He still looks a bit fucked, his eyes black with want and his cock literally tenting his sweats. The smile is much too sweet for what you’re both doing.

“Take as many pictures as you want, there’s a full roll of film in there. Can keep ‘em for when you miss me.”

Now is not the time to cry. Fuck.

You nod at him, grab the camera and keep it close. You wonder if he planned this or if it was a coincidence that it was in his bag. Regardless, you’re thankful. Elated even, that he’s going to let you capture this and preserve it for those nights you doubt he was ever even real. There's no time to be sad now; you can grieve him when he’s gone.

He flicks his tongue over his lip ring as he looks down at you again, there’s so much that he wants to do tonight, but he knows damn well the moment his cock so as much touches you, he’s going to lose control. He needs to lavish you with love and attention first before even thinking of himself.

He grabs the hem of your shirt, gently pulls it over your head. You lay pliant, let him take the lead and do whatever he wants. God, anything for him as long as he keeps looking at you like that, like you’re the reason he breathes.

Next he takes off the pajama shorts you had on, slowly fumbling with them because of the awkward position on the couch. It makes you giggle at him, which makes him giggle at you. Now that you’re both a bit calmed down, not quite as worked up, you realize maybe the couch isn’t the most practical place.

Even then, you take the Polaroid and snap a picture, capturing his bashful smile on camera as he tosses your shorts away. He doesn’t protest; he lets you. Watches as you take the photo it spits out and stare at it lovingly before setting it on the coffee table.

His hands are on your thighs again, and despite the fact you’re nearly butt naked now, his eyes stay steady on your face. He reaches forward, grabs the camera from you, and snaps his photo of you. He focuses the Polaroid specifically on your neck to capture the hickies he left, wants to remember you marked as his. He retrieves the photo after the camera spits it out. He doesn’t look at it yet; just tosses it inside of his bag next to the couch.

At your huff and shy little glare you send him, he chuckles, hands you back the camera, and before you can scold him, he lightly swats your thigh. Then he gets off the couch and picks you up bridal style.

It’s hard to be mad at him when he makes you feel like a princess. You don’t actually mind that he took the picture, as embarrassing as it feels. You know it’ll be for his eyes only.

He easily carries you into your bedroom, kicks the door open, and deposits you on your bed. Wasted no time before he’s taking off his shirt and sweats, and fuck, you swear he’s a Greek god. Perfect, in every way. You could drool every damn time you see any bit of his skin. His broad shoulders, his tiny waist, his subtle and toned thighs, it’s a lethal combination. Any woman who sees him like this surely could keel over at how beautiful he is, how sexy he is.

He gets on the bed with you, and you set the camera on the pillow next to your head. He settles between your thighs once more. He can feel himself starting to get impatient now that you’re both in only your underwear; his cock is still hard. Only getting harder as he stares down at you, looking at how pretty you look with your hard nipples glistening with his spit and your soft thighs spread just for him.

He descends, placing open-mouthed kisses on your tummy. Your hands come to rest in his hair as they’ve done many times because you know you’ll need to hang on. You know where this leads, and anytime he eats you out, it’s an out-of-body experience. The things this man’s mouth can do are unholy, but still feel like heaven.

His eyes stay on you as he kisses his way down to your thighs. He nips at them lightly, causing you to whine. He covers your lower half in kisses, not missing a single ounce of your skin as he lavishes your inner thighs with sweet little declarations of love that just aren’t enough.

You lift your hips ever so slightly, tug on his hair a bit, send him a silent message that says please fucking put your mouth on me before I explode.

He smirks against your skin, looks up at you as he trails his lips upward, “Just feel it, baby, let me love on you.”

You want to roll your eyes at this, but don’t say anything. Just try to regulate your breathing. You know he’s wanting to savor it, savor you. He has every right to.

But he knows what you need; can tell by the way you’re scratching his scalp that you’re itching to feel his mouth on you. And if he’s being honest, he’s growing a bit impatient, too.

So he finally trails his lips past your thighs, onto the mound of your cunt which is still covered by your panties. The moment he sees the wet spot seeping through, smells your arousal, his patience disappears. Suddenly, he’s fucking starving.

He doesn’t even take your panties off before he starts kissing your cunt, sucking on your clit through the fabric. The feeling makes your body nearly jolt, your hips bucking into his face as you tug on his hair and let out an incredibly strained moan. Fuck. So much for taking it slow and dragging it out.

He becomes a man possessed once he tastes you. He’s letting out grunts as he borderline makes out with your panties, suckling the fabric to get every drop of your essence off of them and onto his tongue. It’s genuinely filthy, debauched, but god, it’s hot.

He leans back with flared nostrils and glistening lips, looking like he’s wearing lipgloss. Made specially by you, of course. He nearly rips your panties off and throws them into the pile containing his clothes at the end of the bed.

A coincidence, he tells himself. He’s totally not planning on ‘accidentally’ taking them home with him… not at all.

He leans back down, grabs your thighs, and props them over his shoulders as he maneuvers himself to lay flat on his stomach on the bed, his knees keeping him steady as he presses his face into your pussy.

He inhales you, takes in your scent. So musky and pretty, so uniquely you. He wishes he could bottle it up and wear it as a fucking cologne. He rubs his nose around in it, nudging your clit back and forth, almost as if he’s motor-boating you but instead of your tits, it’s your cunt.

God, it’s lewd. But he can’t get enough.

You already feel yourself becoming a little too turned on but wanna capture this moment. Wanna preserve how fucked he looks when he does shit like this, only ever for you. So you grab the Polaroid with one shakey hand that leaves his hair, and you snap a quick photo. It comes out a bit blurry, but you don’t mind. You place the camera back on the pillow alongside the fresh photo and have to double down on gripping his hair because, holy fuck, this feels so good.

His tongue finds your entrance and starts licking inside, trying to get every last drop of your cream greedily into his mouth. He uses his nose to stimulate your clit, one of the perks of having a big nose. He’s grunting as he licks into your cunt, almost sounds feral doing so. He doesn't even recognize his own voice with the damn noises he's making.

As much as you don’t want to admit it, watching this all unfold has you dangerously close already. Your thighs are quivering on his shoulders, and your toes are curling along his back. The way he’s breathing into your pussy, sucking and licking and nudging it with his nose, fuck, it has you a mess. The noises you’re making you can’t control; you’re starting to sound just as feral as him.

“Mmmph… Koo… gonna cum soon, slow down…”

You babble at him. You wanna cum so bad, but you also don’t want it to stop so soon. If you had one wish at this very moment, it would be that he does this forever. He looks so lovely in between your thighs, licking and sucking you up as if it’s his last meal.

Because it is his last meal. After this night, he’s gonna be starving for eternity without you.

He huffs out a little laugh against your clit, the hot air causing your back to arch and fingers to tighten in his hair; if he doesn’t ease up, your thighs are surely going to crush his damn head.

“Cum then. Fucking give it to me, Y/N. Let me earn it.”

He nearly growls at you before he dives back in with renewed vigor. He replaces his tongue, which was deep in your cunt, with his fingers. He uses his mouth now to suck on your clit. As you look down at him, you’d swear he was kissing it, making out with it, making love with his fucking mouth. The added pressure of two of his long fingers crooking inside of you is quickly bringing you to your end.

But what nearly makes you cum on the spot is the way he starts fucking humping the bed. Acting like a virgin humping a pillow, he moves his hips back and forth on the mattress just for some sort of stimulation to his cock because it started getting so hard it was damn near painful.

He knows how desperate he looks but doesn’t care. Clearly, you enjoy it, judging by the way you start panting, and your pussy starts pulsating and tightening around his fingers. They fuck into you harder, rubbing up against the spongy flesh inside, all while he makes out with your clit.

His eyes open to meet yours, and you’re done for. Seeing that desperation and love in his eyes mixed with the fact he’s fucking humping your bed makes your pussy throb. You begin cumming hard, tugging on his hair as your thighs clasp around his head. He damn near whines into your cunt, the noise only causing vibrations to make it so much more intense for you.

“Nnngh oh shit! Fuck, oh fuck Koo… oh my god, shiiit…”

Your hips buck up into his mouth eagerly; you can’t even control it. Your feet planted on his back, toes curling, thighs trembling around his face, and your face scrunched up in pleasure. You see stars- no- you see an entire fucking galaxy as you cum all over his face. Full of stars, moons, planets, gardens, all of which are full of him and every single fiber of his being.

All for him, just as he is all for you.

He fucks you through it, does his best to prolong it, but he knows he’ll make you cum again on his cock. He is aching to be buried inside of you. He wants to make love to you, not fuck you, he wants to meld your bodies together and become one tonight.

After what feels like forever, your body relaxes, and the spasming of your clit dies down, causing it to become sensitive. He can tell by the way your legs shake and your body jolts when he applies too much pressure with his tongue.

He reluctantly pulls back, licking your juices off of his lips before placing little kisses all over your thighs and pelvis. He looks fucked, his nose and his lips are glistening obscenely in the dim lighting, and his eyes don’t look brown anymore but black.

When your eyes travel downward, you whine at him. His cock is nearly tearing through his underwear, which you now realize he’s wearing your fav, the purple CK’s. There’s a little stain where the head of his cock presses, so much precum, all for you.

He looks down where your eyes are trained, and he snorts at himself. Jesus fuck, he really is acting like a desperate teenager, isn’t he? But he can’t find himself giving a shit. He wants you to know how desperate and unhinged you make him. He can’t say he’s ever been so horny he borderline fucked a mattress, not until now. And it’s all because of you.

He takes off his underwear with shaky hands and tosses them somewhere in your room. Then he settles between your legs again, rubbing up and down your thighs as he takes you in as if it’s the first time.

Your hands come up to his chest, scraping your nails down it slowly, which earns you the most beautiful groan from his lips. He bites down on them, and his cock jumps upward, begging to be touched. So you trail your hands lower until you find his aching length and take it into your hand, start stroking him lazily.

His breathing becomes labored, and his eyes flutter shut. Even just your hand feels so fucking good. His hips jerk forward, seeking more stimulation. Fuck, he can’t get enough.

One of his hands remains on your thigh while the other reaches for the camera. He boldly angles it directly at your cunt, snaps a photo of it, making sure to capture the way your slick folds glisten in the light, along with all of the purple flowers blossoming on your thighs. His tattooed hand is barely in the shot but is visible enough to make it clear it is him in this photo.

He tosses the photo in the same pile his clothes and your panties lay next to the bed, and then angles the camera towards your face and body to take another. He thinks you’re so pretty like this. Cheeks flushed, lips puffy because you always bite them right before you cum, eyes bright with afterglow. You look like an Angel, especially in this moment.

He’s sure you’re an Angel sent from the God he doesn't even believe in.

He snaps another photo and tries to steady his shaky hands because the way you’re stroking his cock feels borderline painful. Too slow; he needs more. Beads of precum drip down his cock as if it’s crying. It may as well be crying for you.

He quickly takes the photo, tosses it in the same pile, and then does the same with the camera without thinking. Is getting way too worked up with how you’re stroking his dick and looking at him like a Greek god.

Because he is one. You’ll say it time and time again.

He leans over your body and settles in between your legs. You remove your hand and wrap your arms around his shoulders, burying your fingers in his hair again. He grinds his cock onto your pussy, coating it in the remnants of your cum and juices, and starts kissing you slowly.

The kiss isn’t like the one with wine; this one is sweet, loving, still desperate, but more patient. His lips work with you in unison, your puzzle pieces coming together once more. You can taste yourself on his lips, and it makes you moan into his mouth, which causes his cock to twitch against your pussy. God, he loves the sounds that you make. Music to his ears, he’d play it on repeat if he could.

He slowly drags the tip of his cock down to your entrance which is well prepared for him, and even more slowly starts thrusting inside of you. He wants to feel you deeply, feel every ripple and ridge of your pussy, every pulse and throb. He wants to catalog it and replay it over and over in his head for when he misses you.

Jungkook is definitely gifted when it comes to his manhood. It’s not too long, a good seven and a half inches, but fuck he’s so girthy. When you first fucked him, you could barely handle how thick he was. Nowadays, you can absolutely handle it, but that first push always gets you fucking squirming. The pressure and stretch are nothing like you’ve ever felt before.

You let out a stuttered gasp into his mouth when he buries himself to the hilt, his balls flush against your ass, and he stays there for a moment so that you can adjust. You break the kiss, wincing a bit as you turn your face to try and hide the way it scrunches up as it always does the first few moments he’s inside of you.

He doesn’t like that. Not at all.

He pulls his face back from yours and steadies himself on his elbow as one of his hands comes up to grip your jaw. He turns your face towards him, doesn’t let you look away or try to hide.

“Uh-uh, you look at me when I fuck you. I wanna see every single detail of your pretty face if this is the last time I get you like this.”

You whine at him, your eyes fluttering shut and cheeks warming. For some reason, that’s embarrassing, like being called out for talking in class or some shit. But even then, your pussy clenches around his cock, because you love it when he takes control like that, when he makes it clear what he wants.

He shakes your jaw a bit when he notices you closing your eyes, causing them to open instinctively. He looks just as fucked as you do, his nostrils are flared, and he’s sweating slightly, clearly holding back.

“Eyes on me, Y/N. Don’t you fucking dare look away. Look me in my eyes while I make love to you.”

Fuck. It takes every single bit of strength you possess not to cry. There he goes, voicing the fact that tonight isn’t going to be some hard fuck. It’s making love.

That terrifies you.

Making love is something entirely different compared to fucking. Some people disagree, but you don’t. Fucking is mindless, meant for pleasure and pleasure alone. Sometimes, there's intimacy after, but it’s mostly just sex. Making love, of course, comes with pleasure, but that’s not its purpose. Its purpose is to come together with your partner, show each other how much you love them, let all of your emotions run wild and free while sharing the most intimate parts of your body together.

Fucking is like buying a bouquet of roses. You get to see them, water them, keep them on display, but the joy dies quickly because the roses die, too.

Making love is like growing a garden of roses. You can’t make love until you grow that love with someone; nurture it, watch it morph and evolve. And then the flowers bloom. The love bursts, the petals are vibrant in colors made up of you and your partner.

Both are lovely. Everyone loves buying a bouquet of roses, but few get to experience growing their own.

You’ve never made love. Tonight will be the first time.

And it will probably be the last.

You nod at Jungkook stupidly, keeping your eyes on his just as he asked you to. Once he sees your eyes remaining on him, he starts slowly moving his hips. His cock slides in and out of you, your arousal can clearly be heard by the noises your cream coating his cock every time he slides in and out makes. It’s beautiful.

This is beautiful… and so goddamn tragic.

He’s also fighting tears. Because, unlike you, he has made love before… or thought he did. He swore on his wedding night he made love to his wife, but it was nothing like this. You’ve barely even started, and he can feel the stark difference. God, it makes him question fucking everything. He never felt this way with his wife, with anyone, only ever with you.

But now isn’t the time to think of such things, to dissect the fact that maybe what he had with his wife was never actually love, but comfort. Now is the time to share your love together, one last time.

He starts moving his hips a bit faster. His arms reach under your body and wrap around you, trying to get as close as humanly possible. He rests his forehead on yours, keeps his eyes on yours, too. He starts panting, is fighting back tears. He is trying so hard not to cry right now.

“I love you.”

Fuck.

You let out another stuttered breath, and then your breathing picks up entirely as you fight back tears. Your arms are wrapped around him now, nails digging into his back like you’re afraid he will float away. Because you are, you’re so scared that if you let go, he will disappear. You don’t want him to disappear.

He starts pounding a bit deeper, grunting with each deep thrust as he grits out again,

“I love you.”

Fuck he needs to stop.

“Jungkook— nngh… don’t…”

He shakes his head, his breathing heavier, and his thrusts bordering on aggressive now. That’s not abnormal for him; sex with you both is regularly rough. But this is so different. It isn’t the dominating kind of aggressive but desperate, full of passion and love and grief.

“No, Y/N, look at me. I love you. I fucking love you so much, Y/N. I love you.”

And you break.

Crying for you also isn’t abnormal during sex with him specifically. It’s always intense, so sometimes you cry. Not out of sadness or pain; it just happens sometimes. He came to learn that quickly.

But just like how he’s making love to you, these tears are different. You’re weeping for the loss of your lover, but also because you are still so full of love for him. You’re crying because for the first time since this mess started between you, you believe him when he says he loves you. Deep down in your core, in every single crack and crevice of your being, you feel his love for you.

You see it in his eyes as he looks at you, you feel it in the way he touches and kisses you, you hear it in the way he speaks to you when he says it. He loves you so fucking much, and you regret refusing to see it until your last night together. You wish so badly you could have savored his love more seriously rather than deny yourself of it.

You wish things were different.

So you cry for him. The moment the first tear falls, you don’t hold back. You let out something between a moan and a sob as he fucks his cock into you, and his hips stutter when he realizes you’re crying. He didn’t want you to cry, fuck, he doesn’t think he can handle that right now without crying himself. He just wanted you to know, needed you to know that you are loved by him. So fucking loved.

He keeps his eyes on yours, watches the tears fall. He tilts his head slightly and starts kissing the tears away, even as they continue to fall. Greedily kisses them away because they are for him. This will be the last time you water his fully bloomed flower, so he will be greedy. Because he knows that after this, his flower will wilt away, maybe he will, too. So he lets you cry and he kisses and fucks you through it.

He feels himself getting close, his cock starting to twitch and his hips grinding harder into your pelvis. He feels you getting close, too, the way your cunt starts pulsing in rhythm with his cock. You’ve never come at the same time before. He hopes that tonight, he can make it happen.

“Fuck, you feel like home… I love you so much…”

A strangled sob escapes your throat at his words. It’s like he can’t stop saying it, can’t get the words out of his mouth enough. You’ve yet to say it back because you’re afraid his glittery eyes will water, too. But god, you need him to know.

“I love you too, Koo… more than anything…”

And you were right. Hearing you say it amidst your tears, combined with the way your pussy starts rippling around his cock, throbbing and clenching directly after you say it, it’s too much.

He cries. Tries to hide it with a moan, but it’s no use because his tears fall onto your cheeks. You both start crying harder, and he starts fucking you faster. His arms tighten around your waist, and he starts kissing you. Lets you taste your melded tears, his sorrow, his devotion, his love all poured out into this kiss and his tears.

You both water each others flower for the last time.

You feel the familiar pressure building as you kiss him back, your tears mixing with his, the taste addicting. You hate seeing him cry; you know it’s going to haunt you for weeks. But right now, you’re consumed with wanting to be as close to him as possible, and you want to share this moment with him.

You wrap your legs around his waist, and your hips start matching his thrusts. The kiss turns a bit sloppy and uncoordinated because he’s very clearly about to cum; you can feel his cock start twitching and pulsing aggressively inside of you.

“I love you, Y/N. I love you. I. Love. You.”

He groans loudly, his voice sounds strained and distraught. “Come with me.”

You assume he means he wants you to cum at the same time as him. He wants you to cum together, which is definitely going to happen; you feel the string about to snap on both sides.

But really, it had dual meaning. Cum with me, but also come with me. Anywhere, everywhere, please run away with me, please love me forever and ever, please save a piece of your heart for me, please don’t stay away from me forever.

One last thrust and his pelvis grinds into yours as his balls draw up taught. He whimpers into your mouth, and his pelvis grinding into you, mixed with how fucking deep his cock is inside of you, is enough stimulation to your clit to cause you to hurl over the edge a second time. You cream all over his dick, your hips writhing beneath him as you whine and moan into his mouth. His cock jerks hard inside of you, shooting hot ropes of cum that seem endless. Your souls meld together much like your tears do, and you both cum harder than you ever have.

It’s like, in this moment, you are one. You both share a garden, flowers at full bloom, no pesky cages or fences to hinder you from flourishing together. There’s sunlight, and bees, and soil, and plenty of water. It’s peaceful, it’s heaven, it’s home. It’s where you both swear you belong.

Both of your orgasms seem to last eternally. It’s endless, his cock jerking and spurting in rhythm to the way your pussy milks him and pulses around him. He stays buried to the hilt until his cock tires out and your pussy stops milking him.

Even after, he stays like this. You both say nothing as you silently cry together, still connected intimately as you share little kisses between tears.

You made love. He made love to you.

You know damn well you’re ruined for any other man going forward after that.

He exhales a shaky breath and starts peppering your face with little kisses. Despite the tears, he feels lighter than before. There’s still that impending sense of doom, but he knows in his heart that you know he loves you now. That’s all he wanted from tonight…

And despite the sex being pretty vanilla compared to what you usually do, Jesus fuck, that was the best sex he’s ever had.

As he attempts to kiss all of your tears away, he starts whispering the sweetest shit to you, even as he continues crying.

“My baby…”

Kiss.

“My love…”

Kiss.

“My pretty girl…”

Kiss.

“My angel…”

Kiss.

“My heart…”

Kiss.

“My soul…”

Kiss.

“My fucking everything…”

Kiss, kiss, kiss.

Fuck, it makes you swoon hearing all of those sweet words. Not sweet nothings, but sweet declarations. Pure truth. You are and have been his everything despite how fucked up it all is.

You always will be. Fucking always.

You cry a bit harder, nearly blubbering now. He keeps crying, too, not quite as hard as you because he doesn’t want this to be harder for you than it already is… but he knows the moment he leaves you in the morning, he will cry twice as hard.

You realize you’re still clinging to him; there are definitely going to be red marks all over his back. Your legs are still wrapped around his waist, keeping him buried inside of you because that’s where you swear he belongs. He would agree with you.

But you remove your hands from his back and bring them to cup his face, and you feel so fucking drained from the intense sex and crying and the entire goddamn rollercoaster of today… but you don’t want it to end. Fuck, you’re so afraid for it to end.

You place a soft kiss on his lips, “I love you. I really do. Always have, always will, forever and ever…”

He smiles sadly down at you, nods. Because he knows. He never once doubted how much you loved him; every single time he was with you, he felt your love. Even when you were mad at him, you made him feel loved. He wishes so badly that he could’ve made you feel as secure as you made him feel.

You will never know how utterly thankful for you he is.

“I know baby, I know…”

You let out another choked sob and bury your face in his neck. He lifts himself off of you slightly, and he moves himself so that he’s lying beside you instead of on top of you. You cling to him again, refuse to let him go. Can’t. Won’t. Don’t want to. Can’t fucking bear it.

He gently slips his cock out of you and then wraps his arms around you, one hand coming to cup the back of your head and stroke his fingers through your hair, the other rubbing your back soothingly.

You cry and cry and cry. It’s pitiful how hard you’re crying; if anyone saw you right now, they’d be certain someone had died. It really feels that way, as if he’s dying while holding you right now. He feels like he’s dying watching you crumble like this, but he doesn’t dare stop you.

He doesn’t even reassure you because all that would do is give you false hope for something that may not happen ever again. For all you know, after this, you will never cross paths. He may just become a ghost to you…

A flower that bloomed in the spring and died come winter.

There were so many things you wanted to do tonight. You wanted to shower together, wash his hair for him, show him how to bake those cookies you know he loves, stay up and talk about a bunch of pointless shit, rewatch your favorite movies together, fuck a few more times, choke on his dick one last time, kiss him and touch him all over all night. So so so much more.

You didn’t want to stop here. You wanted to stay awake and savor every last second together just as greedily as him. But god, as you sob in his arms, you feel yourself growing so heavy with exhaustion that you can’t keep your eyes open.

“Don’t let me fall asleep, Koo, make me stay awake…”

He buries his face in your hair, his tears making wet patches in your strands. He inhales deeply just to get another whiff of your shampoo, fuck, he needs to figure out which one it is before he leaves so he can buy it and use it. Doesn’t even care if it’s weird. Wants to smell like you. Wants to be surrounded by reminders of you forever.

Like you, he’s been crying this whole time but so quiet that you don’t even realize it. He made sure you wouldn’t realize it. This is your time to get comfort from him, he can’t offer you reassurance, but he damn sure can comfort you through the pain that is his fault.

“Rest, baby… I’m here…”

You shake your head at him, keep your face buried in his neck even as your eyes start to lull shut.

“No, slap me, keep me awake… don’t wanna… sleep… please…”

He can feel your body start to go limp, can feel your tears running down his neck. He knows you’ll be out cold soon. You were fighting a battle you just couldn’t win, and god he wishes he could keep you awake. But he knows you’re emotionally overloaded right now…

And maybe if you fall asleep in his arms, you’ll rest peacefully for tonight. You deserve that, he thinks. You deserve so much peace and happiness.

“It’s ok Y/N… I got you. Just sleep. My baby needs rest, hm?”

You try so fucking hard to respond. But he’s right; you’re fighting a losing battle. Your body can’t keep up with your brain to the point you’re slurring your words. Maybe it’s the after-effects of a fight or flight response because it really felt like you were fighting for your love when making love tonight… fighting to keep hold of his roots as they slowly became untwined from yours. And now, you’re simply too tired.

“I… I love you… so… much…”

He lets out a shaky breath and closes his eyes. Holds you a little tighter. Because, fuck, your last words before lulling into a deep sleep were that you loved him. It’s as it should be, but for some reason, it wrecks him, knowing that this is the last time he will hear them.

When your breathing evens out, he pulls back, stares at you. Your brows are furrowed even in sleep, clearly troubled. But you don’t stir and your grip on him loosens. You are so fucking beautiful. He wishes so badly he could just stay like this, watching you rest, in your arms while you’re in his.

Holding each other, as if you’re both one person instead of two.

He knows he won’t sleep tonight. He’s just as overwhelmed as you, but instead of his body shutting down, his adrenaline has spiked. He’s dreading leaving this bed, dreading leaving you.

He stares for an almost pathetic amount of time. Just lays beside you and takes in every soft detail of your face, traces his fingertips over your features. He finds himself wondering, what if he married you instead? What if you met sooner? What if you lived with him and had his babies one day?

What if… he left his wife?

He has to stop himself there. He makes a pained noise and buries his face in your hair again because he knows he can’t think like that. He could leave his wife; he probably should, but he feels like he owes her his life, his devotion. He married her, for fucks sake.

And even if he did leave, he doubts you’d ever be capable of having a healthy and stable relationship. People in these situations rarely do; it’s a form of karma, he thinks. Husbands who cheat and marry their mistresses often get cheated on, or they end up do it again.

He swears, fucking swears on his life that he would never do that to you. But he knows you probably wouldn’t trust him; any woman in your situation wouldn’t. You’d always be left wondering if he’d turn around and do the same to you one day.

Oh, Jungkook, how badly you’ve fucked up…

He has no idea how much time has passed by the time he checks the little alarm clock on your bedside table. He honestly can’t recall when he got here or what time ‘one more night’ started, but as of now, it’s 5 am.

He wants to stay. Wants to fall asleep holding you, wake up and make you breakfast, draw you a cozy bath and massage your back for you… wants to treat you as a lover would.

But he knows that if he doesn’t leave soon, he won’t leave at all. The moment you open your eyes, he will beg again. He will cry and beg and plead for you to change your mind.

Which is way too selfish, considering he’s still a coward, still unwilling to leave his wife both out of fear and knowing the reality of what happens once he does.

So he places one last kiss on your forehead, breathes you in one last time, and then quietly extracts himself from your hold. Standing up and getting off the bed, he looks down at you.

He swears he can see the exact place you keep his stolen heart inside of you. He doesn’t want it anymore, it’s yours. Always will be.

He slowly starts dressing himself again with robotic-like motions. He isn’t crying anymore; he feels kind of numb at this point, or maybe his tears have just run out.

Acceptance? Or the calm before the storm? He isn’t sure.

He doesn’t bother taking a shower; can’t be bothered right now even if he smells like sex… smells like your sex specifically. He can blame it on being lazy, but he knows it’s because he wants your smell to linger a bit longer. He will shower later.

Once fully dressed he pads his way into the living room, grabs the bag full of stuff he packed for you. He takes it back into your bedroom and sits it at the end of the bed.

He carefully collects each Polaroid he took of you for himself and stuffs them in his wallet for safekeeping. After nearly considering changing his mind and taking the camera greedily, he decides he’ll leave it for you, even though it was a gift you got him. He knows you love it, but also knows you’d never buy one for yourself. And if he’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t think he could ever use it again without thinking of you. It would feel wrong to use it without you.

So he sets that on the end of the bed. He opens the bag, carefully takes out the clothing he packed for you, folds them, and arranges them in a neat pile. Next, he takes out the box of Polaroids; he made sure to put a label on it before coming that said ‘For Y/N.’ He sets the box next to the clothes and then carefully places the chain he packed on top of the pile of clothes.

He wants to arrange it almost as a surprise, hoping it’ll feel more like a gift and not so much like a goodbye this way.

Now that the bag is empty, his intrusive thoughts return. He wants so badly to turn into a little thief and take some of your stuff, too. You would have gladly offered it to him, anything he wanted, but you’re asleep. And he can’t stay much longer.

His intrusive thoughts win, and he can’t find himself feeling too guilty.

So he reaches down and grabs the panties you had on earlier, the same panties that he sucked on like a damn popsicle, and he puts them in the bag.

He quietly makes his way into your bathroom, looks around for a moment until he finds exactly what he’s looking for: the star pimple patches. He takes them, noticing that they’re in a cute little case with a face on it. He knows you love these things; they make pimples feel less like some kind of imperfection. He loves them, too. They remind him of a time when you showered him with love.

You won’t miss them, he thinks again. Not as much as he’ll miss you.

He greedily holds onto them, looks around to see if there’s anything else he can steal. He sees your scarf hanging on the back of your bathroom door; it was the scarf you wore one of the first times he took you to dinner. It’s honestly kind of ugly; it’s a dark and muted plaid, but you loved it because of how soft and warm it is.

It smells very strongly of you.

It’s his now.

He takes the scarf and decides that’s enough. He’s greedy, but he’s not an actual thief. Maybe more like a rat. As much as he wants to steal your shampoo, he decides just to make a mental note of the name because he knows you'll need it to shower when you wake up.

He stuffs the patches and scarf into the same bag and stands before you on the bed. Fuck. He doesn’t want to go. He doesn’t want to leave you.

But now is the perfect time; you’re sleeping soundly, dead to the world. If he leaves like this, there will be no hysterical begging or crying from either party.

Still, he finds himself procrastinating. He decides to open the box of Polaroid photos he packed just to make sure none of the ones he kept for himself snuck their way in. They didn’t. He knows they didn’t. But never hurts to double-check.

He comes across one photo in particular… it was a photo he took one night after you both had some very intense sex. He rented a motel that night because he was in Busan for business, and of course, he dragged you along with him. Busan is his hometown, and his wife has always hated it. She was born and raised in Seoul and always claims Busan is too boring, not lively enough. She always refused to go with him, even if it was to visit his parents.

You, on the other hand, you were so fucking excited to go. You talked his ear off the entire ride there, and once you arrived, you were so interested in everything around you. It was so fucking sweet because you told him the reason you were so excited was because it was a part of him. He was born here, which makes the place sacred. It was dramatic, but god, it was precious.

After you guys fucked that night, you both showered together. You got out of the shower before him, and you snapped a few pictures with the Polaroid; he made sure to put those in the box for you. At some point after, you were lying in the bed watching some cartoon on the motel TV, and he was smoking a cigarette. He noticed a vivid handprint from where he was slapping your ass while fucking you from behind. It was the first time he wasn’t really concerned about it, but proud. Because in some fucked up way, he marked you, even if it was temporary. You were his, and even if you doubted it, he was yours.

It was the same feeling he got tonight when giving you those hickeys. Just a little reassurance that you belong to him.

He took the photo to kind of solidify the feeling, preserve it. It was very aesthetically pleasing. One of his favorites, he’s realizing. He almost wants to take this one.

But instead, he decides to leave it with you, and before he does so he grabs a pin from your desk and writes:

I won’t let you forget us

-Kook

It’s cryptic, he knows. Maybe it’s selfish to leave a message like that… but perhaps it’ll keep you open for him. Not that he expects you to wait for him to get his shit together, god never. But maybe you’ll allow him to check on you now and then, maybe you won’t block his number, maybe, just maybe, you’ll save a piece of your heart for him…

He sets the photo down on top of the pile of folded clothes and steps back. He looks at the clock again, sees that it’s now 5:50 am. He has no idea how time passed that quickly because it only felt like maybe ten minutes had passed. He must have been moving slowly; his brain must have realized how much he was fighting this inevitable end.

As he stares down at your sleeping form, he genuinely considers staying. Considers refusing to leave.

And that’s exactly why he chooses this moment to leave. He has to get the fuck out of here before he does something stupid.

He walks over to you once more, leans down, and places a kiss on your forehead, then your cheek, then your chin, and starts peppering your face with kisses all over again. His heart is pounding fast, and he has the urge to run. With one last kiss to your lips, he yanks himself away and grabs the bag now full of items that don’t belong to him.

He wants to take in your space one last time, wants to linger and look around because this has been his safe space for literal months. But he fucking can’t. He feels his resolve weakening quickly by the second and knows one more second here, and he won’t leave.

He quickly makes his way out of your apartment, is nearly panting as he walks out of your complex and down to his car. His hands are shaking, his heart is beating at a scary pace, and he starts to feel fucking sick.

He borderline throws the bag in his back seat, and then gets into his car quickly. His hands shake so severely that he fumbles with his keys as he starts the engine. The moment the car turns on, he’s peeling out of the parking lot.

It wasn’t acceptance. It was indeed the calm before the storm.

He’s never felt like this before. He feels nauseous and almost panicky as he drives robotically down the morning streets of Seoul. His breathing is coming in so fast he gets dizzy.

It all hits him at once. This is the end. FIN. Over.

He swears he feels his flower die at that very moment. It wasn’t uprooted and moved to another garden; someone fucking stepped on his fully bloomed Bearded Iris. One second he was thriving, flourishing, and now he’s fucking dead.

He doesn’t even recognize the sounds of his own choked sobs as he drives down the street. He can’t breathe. He can’t fucking see. He feels like he’s dying, truly, he almost considers calling for help because he feels so full of despair and grief.

But who would he call? His wife? That's a fucking joke. You? He can't call you anymore. He can't call his friends either because none of them know. He's on his fucking own now.

Nothing could have prepared him for what it feels like to grieve the death of a love who is still alive.

He ends up pulling into a random parking lot once he’s a safe distance from your apartment. He slams his palms on his steering wheel and just fucking bawls. Tears fog his eyes, and he sounds almost childish because of the force in which he’s crying.

He knew the day he lost you would be the day that that he died. And right now, he is dying for you.

It isn’t until 10 am that you stir awake. You instinctively reach for him, but your hands only find cold sheets, meaning he left a while ago…

You didn’t expect him to leave so soon. You expected to be able to wake up to him one last time, so you’re disappointed when you realize his clothes aren’t on the floor anymore, and you don’t hear the sounds of him awake and making coffee in the kitchen.

But you suppose that was a smart move. If he had stayed, it would have just made it harder for you both, most likely.

You feel oddly… numb. As of now, no sadness. The only thing you feel is almost like a little zap in your chest; it’s subtle, to the point you aren’t even sure if it’s really there.

It’s off. Somethings not quite right.

You ignore the weird hollow feeling as you sit up and stretch; you realize you never showered, and you smell heavily of sex. So you get out of bed, and you make your way into your bathroom. You start the shower after using the bathroom, and as you wait to warm it up, you look at yourself in the mirror.

Fuck.

You are literally littered with marks. Your neck, all the way down to your chest, all the way down to your thighs. Purple and pink love bites all over you. He seriously fucked you up.

You feel that zap again.

You shake your head and tear your eyes away from the mirror, don’t notice how your star patches are missing from your skincare tub on your bathroom counter yet. You step inside the shower and spend a good while letting the hot water wash over your body, washing the remnants of sex and sweat off of your skin.

After about half an hour, you step out. Dry off. Get dressed. That’s when you walk back into your bedroom and notice the pile of clothing sitting on your bed. Clothing that isn’t yours.

You slowly approach it and quickly recognize the strong scent lingering on it: his cologne. You unhurriedly pick up each piece of clothing, see the shirt and hoodie you often attempted to steal from him, accompanied by one of his favorite jackets.

He left pieces of himself for you.

Zap.

You set them aside and pick up the chain and photo. Fuck, you love his chains. You always loved them because, one, they’re fucking hot, and two, you loved how they would dangle above you when he was fucking you. You doubt he realized it, but sometimes you’d bite it as he was fucking you, tug on it like a damn dog playing with their favorite chew toy just to see if it would break. It never did, and you never stopped being fascinated with his jewelry.

Zap.

You look at the photo and immediately recall the memory. Busan, now one of your favorite places, all because of him. It was such a good little trip. You tried a lot of street food you never had before, saw a lot of pretty things, and he fucked you beautifully that night. It was rough, passionate, and he left hand prints on your ass, and much like him, you loved it. This was one of your favorites, for sure.

But then you read the note.

I won’t let you forget us.

Zap. Zap. Zap.

You drop the photo and the chain on top of the clothes, let out a shaky breathe. Still, you aren’t really feeling much, maybe a bit of nostalgia accompanying the zaps… but no despair, no yearning or grieving…

Calm before the storm.

You decide you need some coffee and painkillers. You have a lingering migraine from all of the wine and crying last night, so you leave your bedroom and make your way into the kitchen.

You start making your coffee and swallow the painkillers dry. You lean against the counter as your coffee brews, then freeze when you look at the floor.

The purple wild flower lays there, stepped on by he-who-shall-not-be-named’s boot. Wilted and destroyed, the petals disconnected from the stem.

The flower is dead.

And now you break.

Those zaps you were feeling, you suddenly understand. It was your fight or flight kicking in again, and instead of your brain responding to it, it blocked it out.

Can’t fight it now.

You drop to your knees, start breathing heavily because you feel like someone placed bricks on your chest. Your heart aches, literally, it hurts, it feels like it’s going to explode and you feel like you can’t breathe at all.

You start crying again… no- you’re fucking wailing. You’re crying out for the loss of your flower, for the death of a lover who isn’t even dead, much like Jungkook had earlier.

It finally hits you that he isn't coming back. He's gone, and now, you're expected to move on. Your heart aches for him. Without him, do you even have a heart?

No, you really don’t, not right now anyway. The moment he stepped out that door, he took it with him. He fucking stole your heart just like he stole your pimple patches and perfume.

All you can do is cry for him, except right now, you don’t have him to cling to for empty comfort. Instead, you reach for the dead wildflower, hold it in your palm, bring it to your chest, and cradle it close as if you can somehow bring it back to life.

Bring him back to you.

Little do you know, he’s currently curled up in his bed at his second apartment. He hasn’t stopped crying since he left. He went back home, took the stolen perfume, and sprayed it all over his damn bed, and now he’s hugging a pillow as if it’s you. Imagining that it’s you, that this is all just a horrible dream, and he will wake up soon.

Both of you are lovers, stars who collided, planets who aligned, flowers who grew side by side.

But it was at the wrong time. And now you’re paying the consequences of your paths crossing when they shouldn't have.

So far away in the matter of hours when you were once so close, yet you’re both doing the exact same thing; clinging to shreds of each other and wishing so fucking badly that things could be different.

Both of you left each other without returning your hearts. Both of your flowers got stepped on instead of uprooted and re-planted somewhere safer.

Spring has passed, no longer bees buzzing and flowers blooming, but the cold harsh winter is coming.

It will be a while before either of you bloom again, if at all.

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