#if it hits midnight and nothing is still getting done or nothing I get down is working then i'll let myself skip today's | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yerimbrit · 1 month

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lovergirl : m. danielle

synopsis: even after she left you, you still came crawling back.

# : pairing ! danielle marsh x gn!reader

# : tags ! angst with a happy?? ending, this is set in like 2026, i'm... sorry(?)

# : wordcount ! 3.6k

# : warnings ! none i think just swearing

do you know why you're at the airport?

you're 21. she's probably 21 around this time too, since her birthday was last month. you wonder where she is now, if she's doing well. but knowing her, she's probably thriving, unlike you, stuck behind deadlines and finals.

you see her everywhere. not just on billboards, advertisements, and songs, but also in the little things around your neighborhood. the small candy shop around the corner, where your parents took you and her when you behaved. the local family-owned diner, where you and her stopped by on the weekends. the playground that connected to the park in the heart of the city, where you and her played on the swings after curfew.

instead of elation that hit you when you saw these things, though, it was bittersweet nostalgia.

...she didn't even say bye before she left.

it's not like you could blame her, though. she knew that you would convince her to stay, to not leave you alone because she was your everything. that you would take her hands in yours and look at her like she puts the stars in the sky, whispering sweet nothings into her ears like the world was going to end after midnight.

she wasn't there for graduation. or at least, you didn't see her there—she was promoting her first comeback album, or so you've heard. you'd muted nearly everything that had to do with her. it was cruel, you know that, because she hasn't even done anything wrong. but it was for the sake of your heart. you never did get to confess to her properly.

sheltering your heart was the least you could do, in the process of recovering from your heartbreak. but if you knew if you saw her again, that shell would be broken instantly.

so no, you don't know why you're at the airport, on the way to seoul to go to some fansign that you heard about just two weeks ago.

the air of the crowded gate is suffocating, a reminder of how you felt whenever a video of her showed up on your for you page before you blocked the fan account and muted all the tags.

you breathe in, hearing a familiar-sounding laugh behind you, and you whip around only to see two random strangers talking to each other.

'not good,' you grit your teeth. if you saw her right now you would've broke down.

cacophonies of conversation between the crowd rang in your ears, and you groan, covering them. you couldn't wait to get on the plane so you could put on the noise-canceling headphones that you'd bought specifically for this 14 hour flight.

thankfully, your wishes were granted, and you were allowed entry onto the plane. it was a cheap economy seat—you were still a student, after all. your parents offered to pay when you told them you were going to korea, but by then you'd already bought the ticket.

two hours in and it hits you that you're an idiot. a big idiot. you know nothing about the group she's in. buying multiple albums to go to a fansign for a group known worldwide, without even knowing the names of the members?

you pull up their page on kprofiles and start reading, assimilating yourself with the world of... kpop. yeah. you've never bothered with kpop, even though she was an idol. it's not like you hated it, you just didn't bother getting into it. plenty of your friends were avid listeners, pouring details after details about their favorite groups to you, and that was fine. you didn't mind.

'kim minji,' you read to yourself. 22, the oldest... representative animal is a bear... yeah, you can see it. the next was hanni, the vietnamese-australian member of the group. two aussies? what a coincidence.

you read on, studying each member thoroughly before moving to the next. you make a note to watch videos on youtube about them when you get to the hotel. you read about haerin and hyein, the youngest members, then scroll back up to the member you skipped.

'danielle marsh.'

you knew what she looked like already because of how popular the group was, but…

'she still looks the same after all these years.'

the same smile, the same eyes. you wonder if anyone else has ever seen the way her eyes twinkle under the moonlight after dark.

'hobbies: drawing, listening to music, swimming... guess she's the same girl after all.'

your seatmate nudges your shoulder, and you almost jump. "hey, are you interested in newjeans?"

he looks at you excitedly. he seemed about the same age, maybe a bit younger than you. figured there'd be at least one of their fans here. why'd you have to get seated next to one of them?

"um," you hum, "something like that."

you don't bother to tell him about your past with one of the members, or the fact that you bought albums for a chance to see them without any knowledge of who they were, because it was none of his business. god knows what would happen if you told him the truth.

he starts blabbering about how he was a fan since debut, and you tune him out, closing your eyes and putting on your headphones. it's not like he noticed, anyway. maybe you can catch up on some sleep you missed while studying.

you dream of her during your impromptu nap, waking up with tears in your eyes. the guy next to you stopped talking too, fortunately. at that rate, you thought he would've continued after the flight.

you check the time on your phone. surprisingly, a few hours have passed, and the flight is almost over. you must've passed out completely once you shut your eyes. the flight attendant comes by to remind you to unplug your phone from the power outlet, and you patiently wait for your plane to land.

one look outside and you could see fluffy white clouds perfectly set in the air, like a painting or piece of art you could find on social media. you swear you see a rabbit shaped cloud. or maybe you've been staring too hard.

("look, y/n! doesn't that one look like a bunny?

"nah, it's definitely a cat. where are you getting bunny?"

"where are you getting cat? it's most definitely a bunny!"

"okay, okay, fine. you're right, it does look like a bunny, dani."

"see? told ya!")

'fuck,' you shake your head. you try to think about something else. the seat in front of you. the loud sound of the airplane taxiing on the runway. the aircraft marshaller directing said plane.

breathe in. one, two, three, four, five. breathe out. one, two, three, four, five.

you and your seatmate get up to exit the plane, and he flashes a polite smile at you. you offer a tight-lipped one back. the aisleway is cramped, as it always is when you fly economy, and you bump into some people. there's a gross spark of electricity every time you brush shoulders with someone, and you shiver, suddenly reminded of the need to shower when you check in to your room.

the first thing you notice when you step into the airport from the ramp is that there are many products with an idol's face plastered on the front. twice on a candy bag, bts on a bag of chips, le sserafim on a sports drink... the list goes on. it's like they worshipped these people.

...whatever makes them happy.

a crowd comes stampeding towards your direction, causing your survival instincts to kick in. you take refuge in a nearby gift shop to avoid them. the airport was already loud, but the noise increased once the crowd came bursting through.

"minji-ssi, look here!"

"hanni! i love you!"

"please do a heart pose with haerin, danielle!"

"hyein-ssi, over here please!"

your hand twitches. it's not like they were going to see you, but you inconspicuously make your swift escape anyway. there's a bittersweet twist in your stomach at the mention of her name.

instinctively, you whip your head around just in time to make eye contact with her. her mouth is agape and her eyes are widened, and she looks as if she were going to say something, but you turn back around and start power walking to the nearest exit.

does she still remember you? maybe she does, considering the expression she made when you two met eyes. and you can't help but to think, 'does she miss me?'

does she think of you the way you think about her, 24/7, 365 days a year? does she remember the memories you made together, all those years ago? and does she treat them like precious jewels in a well-kept box, or like a constant reminder of what could've been, like you do?

but you also can't help but to think about how beautiful she looked. she's matured, something that you could only sense outside of the pictures provided by the internet. and she holds herself in a poised manner with an air of elegance, but also with a sense of cheeriness and innocence well-placed.

it has been 6 years since you have seen danielle in person.

6 years since you have lost the light of your life.

and you would do anything to change that fact, but, alas, it would never come.

you think you've memorized all the members by now, binging videos of them for three days straight. of course, you went out and explored, since you were in a foreign country, but even when you were out you were still trying to learn everything you could about the group that she's in.

the night before the meeting, you don't sleep well. you wake up on your back, sweating, because you've just had a nightmare. a nightmare where you reunite with her, but she said that she never liked you, and walked away. with every step you took, the distance between you two only increased.

wiping your sweat, you take a few gulps of water from the bottle on the nightstand, taking deep breaths to try and calm your heart. it's around 7 am, looking at the digital clock on the table. the meeting starts at 12, and you have to get there by 11 before it gets too busy for you to even get in.

you walk over to the bathroom with a sense of dread, intending to take a refreshing shower to clear your head.

(it did not help. your mind remains clouded with thoughts of her. impending doom awaits you in four and a half hours.)

not knowing what else to do since you woke up too early, you get dressed and go for a walk. there's a nice, humble café two blocks down the street from your hotel, and you get a warm welcome when you walk through the doors of the establishment. the bells chime in a familiar tune, lifting your spirits ever so slightly.

of all the places you've been to since landing in korea, more than half of them have played at least one newjeans song as background music. and, lucky for you, this one is not. although it is a bit jarring to hear smooth jazz rather than the energetic voices of the girls you've been seeing everywhere.

the café is mostly quiet, aside from the clacking of the dishes and the soft chatter of the few customers also spending their morning here. you mark it as somewhere to visit again, if you ever come back to korea.

with every sip of coffee, there's an added chill to combat the blazing heat that the sun is emitting outside. the sun reminded you of her, who shines just like the sun that breathes us life. the moodmaker between the two of you, who cheered you on even on days where it felt hopeless.

but the iced beverage also filled you with energy, giving you confidence to make it through the big obstacle of the day. (and also the entire reason you even came all this way) you could face her. it's been 6 years. and, well, if it doesn't go well, then at least you'll have an excuse to never come back.

with newfound courage, you exit the café with long strides and return to your hotel room, preparing for the journey ahead. a charger, cash, and a water bottle are all secured in your small crossbody bag.

it's 10:15.

your uber comes in around 10 minutes, and you decide to wait outside in the front to save time.

the drive from the hotel to the venue is about 30 minutes. during that time, you listen to the playlist full of newjeans songs that you made on the day you landed, and take a brief power nap. 'hurt' is the last thing you hear before you drift off to sleep.

you don't feel like you belong here. there's dozens, maybe around a hundred fans talking amongst themselves. from your limited korean, you could tell they were talking about their excitement for the fansign that's about to start in 15 minutes. you really wish you could share the feeling, even though you tried to get into them for three days straight.

a fan approaches you, tapping your shoulder, and you jolt. what is with people and sneaking up on you?

"hey!" oh, they're speaking in english. that makes this easier for you.

"hey," you echo, waving to them. upon closer look, you could see that their tote bag is decked out in merch, from keychains to stickers and a... hanni photocard? you think it's hanni. it's hard to tell when they change their hair colors every comeback.

they notice you staring, and smile at you. then they reach into their bag and pull out a clear goodie-bag containing some stickers and a lomo card.

"would you like one? i ran out of the others, sadly, but i do have hanni and danielle," they say, pulling out another bag which you presume has the other member mentioned.

the iridescent glow of the transparent bag shimmers in your eyes, and you blink. "oh," you start, "i think i'll have hanni."

the goods are handed to you, and you exchange friendly goodbyes. you wistfully look at the card inside the bag, mixed feelings swirling in your gut. it's for the better.

you have a couple more interactions with other fans, some giving you freebies like the first one, and some enthusiastically chatting to you about the group. your initial feelings of discomfort, are, admittedly, still there, but there's an added layer of pleasantness on top now.

weaving through the crowd to get to your assigned seat, you clutch the strap of your new tote bag containing all the things fellow(?) fans have given you.

the tote was another one of the things given, and you think the design is pretty neat, with a nicely placed logo and slogan in a chic style. you might actually use it after today, too.

the announcer calls for the fansign to commence, and five girls file in from a side entrance, their managers and bodyguards following alongside. immediately, the venue erupts in cheers from the audience, shouting affectionate phrases to the members, similar to what happened at the airport.

influenced by the majority, you cheer as well, although it was cut short when you realized that internally you were so out of place.

the group begins with some simple conversation starters, such as 'how are you' and 'have you eaten?' with as much energy as when they came in. you don't exactly know what's happening, so you sit and wait patiently for the event to start. everything seems so daunting.

finally, after around 5 minutes of greetings, the actual signing is starting. you're seated in the middle, which works out in your favor; not one of the first ones to come up and have to face her, but also not one of the last ones and lose your courage. you watched the interactions, the delusion-inducing actions that each of the girls provided, and the poses that they did together. the people around you were either taking videos, pictures, or excitedly talking to their friends beside them.

as the amount of rows in front of you remaining to go up and talk to the girls dwindles down, your heart sped up, thudding against your chest. an even bigger sense of dread instills in you, legs unmoving when the row directly in front of you comes back to sit down. you get nudged by the person next to you to move, and you shakily bring yourself to apologize and get a move on.

what would her reaction be? would she be shocked? happy? maybe mad, because if she actually wanted for you to be involved in her life all this time she would've said goodbye to you, or kept in touch. maybe you should just leave. you got yourself in this whole predicament, anyway. no one even told you to do it.

your palms are sweaty as you make your way down the velvet stairs, and you wipe your hands on your pants in nervousness and fear. eventually, the line slows down once your row reaches the table that the girls are sitting at, and you take it as a chance to try to relax.

breathe in.

five things you can see. seats, the person in front of you, the ground you are standing on, the album that you're holding to get signed (in your extensive research, people usually brought theirs to be signed on), and the table that seems so close yet so far from you. okay.

breathe out.

four things you can touch. the album, your shirt and jacket, and the bracelet on your wrist.

in...

three things you can hear. the increasingly obnoxious whirring sound of the air conditioning, the buzz of the audience, and...

fuck.

"hey, how are you?" a somewhat familiar voice asks. you say somewhat because you've only heard her voice in videos. you find yourself now kneeling in front of minji, the oldest member of the group. she's a lot prettier up close, all of them are, but it's a bit jarring to suddenly see her with your own eyes.

you clear your throat, blinking rapidly to try to focus yourself on the girl. "i'm, i'm gooth-"

...you bit your tongue. you try to laugh it off, awkward giggles slipping from your lips, and thankfully she joins you in laughing.

"that's good," she smiles, and it puts you at ease. no wonder people idolize these girls. she signs the front of the album, asks about your life, and you tell her about your school and how you're a newer fan. she waves at you with another gummy smile once your two minutes are up.

the next is haerin, who is the more reserved and quiet member of the group. there's a pair of cat ears sitting on her head, probably a gift from one of the previous fans, and she blinks at you owlishly, almost like she knew you, before a small smile settles on her face.

it is slightly unsettling, but the more you converse with her the more that feeling dissolves. she really is reserved, and the two of you exchange witty remarks with knowing grins. she signs your album just before the two minute mark.

hyein is super friendly, very high energy. you feel like she'd be a great person to be around on any given day. your conversation with her is mostly centered around food, and how she wants to visit australia again once you mentioned where you're from. she signs the album in the middle of your discussion about the best korean foods to try during your stay.

your time with hyein ends with a staring contest. (she won) and you give her a handshake after, joking about how you would win the next time. you think the sparkles in her eyes are very endearing.

hanni signs your album as soon as you set it down on the table. she's a very likable person in general; you think you could've been friends with her if she went to the same school as you. you also share the same music taste, spending your time together talking about the latest sza album and comparing hand sizes (yours were bigger, unsurprisingly)

but nothing could prepare you for the girl at the end of the table. her laugh rings in your ear from diagonally across from you, and you get a splitting headache. you mask it well enough for hanni not to notice, though, and you're able to finish the interaction smoothly.

how could anyone ever hate danielle? definitely not you. as much as you had reasons to hate her, you just couldn't bring yourself to do so much as dislike or be angry towards her. instead, you just drowned yourself in your sorrow and confusion.

she's perfect. the exact opposite of you, and yet she stayed with you until she didn't. those memories that you have together, they're so engraved in your mind, and you don't even know if she feels the same.

you slide over to the next slot, keeping your head down as you placed your album back onto the table.

heartbeat thudding in your chest. cold sweat running down your cheek. teeth biting your lip. is this the end for you? because it sure does feel like it.

when you finally do look up, and make eye contact with danielle, it feels like time has slowed even though it's really only been five seconds. her expression is mirroring yours: widened eyes, lips slightly parted. you gulp.

tears well in the corner of her eyes, and fuck everything, because you made her cry.

she blinks them away, and clears her throat, taking a second to regain her composure, and timidly calls out to you.

"y/n?"

a/n : 🤗 not the best at writing angst i hope this is ok !

#newjeans x reader #newjeans #danielle marsh x reader #danielle x reader #mo jihye x reader #danielle newjeans #danielle marsh newjeans #gxg #girl group imagines #girl group x reader #newjeans imagines

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aalyssah · 21 days

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Bloodline Members When Pregnant Wife Has Midnight Cravings

Characters: Roman Reigns, Jimmy Uso, Jey Uso, Solo Sikoa. x Fem!Reader.

Word Count: 2,497

A/N: When I thought about this I instantly knew I wanted to write it for the Bloodline. And I'm never gonna stop writing for this type of Bloodline. Freak whatever it is now. Anyways, Hope You Enjoy!

Roman Reigns:

You woke up to nothing, but silence and darkness.

You let out a little groan, turning your head to the side to your nightstand to see it was 2:10 AM. All of a sudden through the silence your stomach growled.

Your face twisted up, your 6 month baby kicking, begging for food. You turned your head to the side again and saw Roman peacefully sleeping with his hand on your stomach.

You desperately wanted something to eat to help you and your baby before going back to sleep, but Roman was sleeping and you don't wanna wake him up.

After he main evented WrestleMania and lost his title after 1,300 days, you wanted nothing more, but for him to sleep after all the hard work he has done.

You looked around the room. The TV was on Netflix asking 'Are You Still Watching?' maybe if you turned on a random show he wouldn't hear you leaving the room. You searched for the remote and found it underneath the blanket before turning on something random.

You carefully slid his arm off your bump and slowly made your way up and out of bed. Little breathes and grunts were heard in the room as you pushed yourself up and when you did, you cheered, before hopping up.

Your feet hit the wood floor and pattered all the way downstairs and to the kitchen. You were very careful going down the steps, holding onto the railing for dear life.

You shouldn't even be going there with no help anyways, but what Roman doesn’t know won't hurt him. He's been super overprotective when it comes to you and the baby, practically doing everything for you, so you won't have to lift a toe.

You made it to the kitchen, walking around and opening up cabinets to see what snack would reel you in and a cabinet later, Cool Ranch Doritos caught your eyes. You grabbed them, slowly opening the bag so you wouldn't make much noise.

You didn't really turn up the volume on the TV that loud, so it was all to you to be stealthy.

Once you got them open you did a little celebration dance. You took a chip out and took a bite. You let out a moan as the seasoning hit your tongue. This is just what you needed at 2:20 in the morning

You picked up another chip and as soon as you were about to put it in your mouth, the clearing of a throat caught you. You jumped, dropping the chip and whipping around only to see your husband.

He stood there, arms crossed over his chest with a disapproving look. "What do you think you're doing out of bed?" He asked, making his way around the island. You looked up at him, batting your eyelashes to seem innocent. "The baby was hungry, so I came down for a mid snack."

Roman took a small breath. He wasn't mad at you, he couldn't be, but the thought of you going down the steps with no help made him worried.

"Okay, but why didn't you wake me up? I could’ve gotten you something." You avoided his eyes, looking down at the bag. "I wanted you to rest. You've been working so hard and I didn't want to make you get up."

Roman sighed, grabbing the bag and putting them on the counter before his hands circled around your waist, pulling you close. "Baby, I don't care how long I've worked, wake me up. You know how I feel about you going down them steps without any help."

You nodded your head, letting Roman guide you back near the steps, but you stopped him. "Wait!" He paused. "Can you get the chips?" Roman chuckled as he got your bag of chips and helped you up the steps.

Now, his next mission is to make your nightstand a snack drawer and put a mini fridge nearby so you can have everything you need and want without getting up.

Jimmy Uso:

The sound of your stomach growling woke you up. It was loud and hurting as your baby kicked and moved for food.

You were about 7 months pregnant and your cravings have been getting weirder and weirder each month. Last month you wanted pickles and pancakes and the month before that you were obsessed with toast with ranch.

Yeah, nasty, but you were enjoying it. But tonight was simple. You yearned for a Burger King wrap.

You looked over at your husband who was sleeping on his back, his mouth open as he breathed in and out. He looked so relaxed.

"Jimmy." You called out quietly, but he didn't move. "Jimmy." You tried once more, but still he didn't wake up. You began shaking his body, repeatedly calling his name. "Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy, Baby, wake up. I'm hungry."

Jimmy finally woke up. "W-what?" He groggily asked, rubbing sleep out his eyes. "I'm hungry." He looked at you and then the clock. "Really? It's 4 in the morning!" He groaned out.

He knew he would get up either way, but wanted you to know what time it was that you got him leaving the house for something to eat. "Please, Jim! I'm really craving a Burger King wrap." Jimmy shook his head in shame as he got up and slipped on some sweatpants and his Nike slides.

“That's all you want? A wrap?" You cheered, sitting up. "Yes please, and some pink lemonade!" And with your order, Jimmy left going to his car and driving all the way to Burger King. He decided to go inside since nearly every time he ordered at the drive thru, they got something wrong.

As he opened the door he caught the eye of an old friend. "Kofi, is that you?!" Kofi turned around and saw Jimmy, a smile coming to both of their faces. "Aye, man, what'chu doing here at 4 AM?" Kofi asked as Jimmy remembered. "Y/n's cravings again. She wants a chicken wrap." Kofi chuckled. "Sounds like her. Anyways, how has WrestleMaina treated you?"

As the two began to talk about WWE, Jimmy forgot what he was even in there for until his stomach growled. "Oh, I'm a little hungry. I'll talk to you some other time, Uce." Jimmy said to Kofi as he went up to order something. He got him a burger before getting back in the car and going home.

He opened the door and was instantly met with you standing there with a smile on your face. "Food!" You cheered, your hands out, but that made Jimmy freeze.

Your food.

That's what he was supposed to be getting.

Your smile dropped as you saw there was one bag and no drink. "Where's my food?" You quietly asked him as Jimmy still stood there.

He was very careful with his words as he broke the news to you. "Babe, I'm so sorry. I forgot-" Jimmy didn't even finish his sentence as your eyes teared up. You were really looking forward to a wrap and pink lemonade.

Jimmy put the bag down and pulled you into a hug. "No, no, please don't cry. I-I'll go get your food, just don't cry." Jimmy pleaded.

Curse your stupid hormones for making you feel this way over food.

“Please." You begged as Jimmy broke away. "Okay, stay here. It won't take long, I promise." Jimmy said, placing a kiss on your forehead and rushing back out to Burger King.

Like promised, it only took about 20 minutes and he was already back home, but when he didn't see you standing in the living room waiting for him, he thought you went to sleep, but when he walked through the hallway and turned the corner to your shared room, he saw you on the bed with HIS burger wrapper ball up.

You looked up at him with your mouth full of food, an apologetic look on your face. "Sorry, I was really starving."

Although Jimmy really wanted that burger, he couldn't be mad at you. He handed you your food and drink and watched as you happily ate.

Jey Uso:

"Jey?" Jey's eyes opened at the sound of his name being called. You sat above him, a hand on his chest. "Yeah?" He asked, looking at you.

You had this innocent look to which he knew you were about to ask for something. "The baby's hungry, can you get me something to eat?" Jey let out a sigh as he sat up, kicking his legs over the side of the bed. "What are you craving?" He asked.

You shrugged your shoulders not really feeling the need for a specific food. All you know is that you’re hungry . "I dunno? I just want something." Jey chuckled.

"Fast food or homemade?" You quickly answered. "Homemade." Jey nodded his head going to the kitchen and looking at what y’all had. He found some Ramen noodles, deciding to cook it for you. It was warm, a little salty, and something that will get you full.

He went back into the room with the bowl, bringing it to you. "Ramen for you." He didn't even get to put the bowl on the nightstand before you spoke. "Actually, I don't want that." Jey's brows furrowed. "Well, what do you want?" He asked, holding onto the bowl. "It doesn't matter, but not noodles." Jey took note and returned back to the kitchen.

He looked through the cabinets again and found bread. The thought of French toast came to mind. Instead of eating something salty you'll have something sweet.

He was quick to make that and came back to the room, a smile on his face. "Here's some French toast, baby." You took the plate, stabbing the toast with the fork he gave you and took a bite.

A moan of satisfaction came out of you as the sweet syrup hit your tongue. "Mm, this tastes so good!"

Jey nodded proudly, going to his side of the bed and not even 5 minutes later you were calling out his name. "Jey?" Jey looked at you to see a different look on your face. "Don't be mad, but I kinda don't want this either."

Jey closed his eyes, trying to control himself from getting upset. "So what do you want now?" You thought about it for a second before answering. "McDonalds?" Jey got up and put his crocs on. "The regular?" You nodded and Jey left.

He went all the way to McDonalds which was 10 minutes away and got your favorite thing and drink, but on his way home his phone dinged. As he reached a red light he quickly took a peek at the notification and saw a text from you.

'Change of plans, don't want McDonald's, feeling Burger King rn.'

Jey growled in slight anger. He just got the food and was halfway home, but now he has to turn around and go to Burger King. Even though he was a little mad he turned around and went to Burger King, getting your classic order.

Once again, he drove back home and opened the door, but you were already standing there, a small smile on your face. "Jey?" He silently pleaded you weren't gonna say what he thought you were.

"I actually want Dominos." And there it was. It took everything inside him to hold back the words he wanted to say.

He quietly left the house and got back into the car which scared you. You know he's tired and wants to get back in bed, but he's gonna keep going out until you get what you truly want.

He pulled up to dominos, but before he got out the car, his phone rang. He saw your name and quickly answered it. "What is it now?" You were silent for one second before telling him.

"I'm thinking about a chicken sandwich from Chick-Fil-A instead of pizza." He's tried. Jey had tried holding it in for so long, but this was his final straw.

Not only were you pissing him off, but you were stressing him out. You got him running all around to different fast food places only for you to call it off for a new one. He was kinda done.

"Are you serious, Y/n? I've driven to 3 different fast food places only for you to change your mind every time. I'm tired and want to go to bed, so please for the love of my Dad, make up your mind." As Jey finished his sentence it was quiet on the other end.

He didn't want to make you cry, but he was so tired and wanted to go back to sleep. "I'll eat what we already have." And with that, Jey hung up going back home.

When he got to the bedroom he saw you looking happy as you stuffed your face with food. He slid back in bed, finally going back to sleep.

Now you both were happy.

Solo Sikoa:

It was 1:00 in the morning when you woke up, craving something sweet, but salty. You called out your husband's name once and he rose up like Undertaker.

"Solo?" He was up, eyes locking onto your form. "Hm?" You hummed. "I really want something sweet and salty." You pouted, looking up at him through your lashes in hopes to somewhat seduce him to get out of bed and get your snack.

“What do you want? A snack or meal?" You shrugged your shoulders. "You choose for me, as long as it's-" Solo quickly joined in. "Sweet and salty, yeah, I know.” You both chuckled as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and put on his shoes.

It was only 5 AM. This is usually his normal time to wake up for the gym, but because of WrestleMania, he was granted 2 weeks off along with the rest of his family.

He didn't have a single problem with going out at any time of night to get you something you and the baby craved for and he made sure you knew that.

Solo locked up the house and outside on the sidewalk all the way to the corner store. It's a good workout and it only takes him about 10 minutes to get there.

Solo instantly went to the chip section and picked up a bag of caramel popcorn. It was sweet, salty, and crunchy, all to which you would love right now. He picked up a couple of bags along with a drink and went to the counter and paid for it.

He did a small jog back home and met you with your awaited treats. "Got you some caramel popcorn and your favorite." You cheered, clapping your hands before pulling him in for a kiss. "Thank you, thank you, baby!" Solo smiled as he watched you open the bag and pop one in your mouth.

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hellcat8908 · 1 month

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Broken Home Azriel x Female Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, Azriel being an ass, Angst, Hurt

You were excited as Madja confirmed your suspicion. You were finally pregnant. After years of trying and tears every time your cycle came, you were finally going to start a family. "Congratulations, both of you." She says with a warm smile. You can't help but smile as you gently rest your hand on your stomach. "I'd estimate you're about 2 months along, give or take." She says before telling you she'll check on you next month, but not to hesitate to reach out to her with any concerns or questions. She takes her leave after congratulating you again.

"Isn't this wonderful, Az? We finally get to start a family." You say excitedly. "It's wonderful." He says before kissing you. You return the kiss before starting to list all the things you need to do to get ready. You gush about how excited you are to tell everyone. Azriel can't help but chuckle at your enthusiasm as he listens to you. You start talking about decorating the nursery and buying cute baby clothes. "Slow down, love. You're only two months pregnant. We have plenty of time for all that." He says before his smile suddenly drops and his brows furrow.

"Azriel, what's wrong? If Rhys thinks he's sending you away-" You're interrupted by Azriel, "How could you?!" He asks through clenched teeth, holding back his sudden anger. "How could I what?" You ask genuinely confused. "It's not mine!" He says angrily. Hurt flashes across your face as his words hit you. "What are you talking about? Of course it's yours. Who else could it be?!" You ask with raised voice. "2 months ago, I spent the majority of the time away! You seriously cheated on me?! After everything I've done for you, for us?!" He yells.

"I never cheated on you. How could you think that?!" You say as your eyes fill with tears. "How long were you planning to wait to tell me?" He asks insulted. "Azriel, I swear I never cheated on you! I love you!" His eyes darken as the anger inside him worsens, "I don't love you. We're done. Mating bond be damned." He says before storming out of the house. Your heart shatters as you protectively hold your stomach and sob. You curl up in the fetal position until you cry yourself to sleep.

Once you wake up and realize how late it is, it's obvious that Azriel isn't coming back. Anger suddenly replaces sadness as you start packing your things. You refuse to wait for Azriel to come to his senses if he ever will. Your baby needs you more than anything now that you're in this alone. A knock on the door pulls you from packing your clothes. You answer it, surprised to see Rhys and Feyre this late. "It's almost midnight. What are you two doing here?" You ask as you move to let them in. "Azriel told us everything." Rhys says softly.

"Of course he did. Tell him I'm going to find an apartment in the morning and then he'll have the house all to himself." You say angrily. "You don't need to find an apartment. We have plenty of room for you and the baby at the river house." Feyre offers. "I can't stay with you. I don't want to cause tension between you, and I need my own space where I don't have to worry about bumping into him." You say. "We'll still be friends, right?" Feyre asks nervously.

"Of course, nothing changes that. You and the rest of the inner circle are always welcome in my home." You say with a reassuring smile. "Azriel is an ass and will eventually realize how badly he screwed up." Rhys says. "Time will tell." You respond. "You know you're still welcome in our home, and don't hesitate to reach out if you need anything." Rhys says before offering you a hug. "Thank you for everything. If you don't mind, it's late and I have a lot to do tomorrow." You say. "Of course, take care of yourself and your little one." They say before leaving.

You go back to your room and lay in bed. Letting your emotions take over, losing all motivation to finish packing. You go over how the happiest day of your life turned into the worst. In this moment, you genuinely hated Azriel for putting you through this. "It's ok, peanut. We're going to be alright." You say reassuringly as you rub your stomach before drifting asleep, dreaming of what your little one will be like.

☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

You were able to secure a two bedroom apartment, and over the next few months, you got settled in. Cassian and Rhys helped to assemble the crib and bassinet for you while Feyre and Mor helped you pick out clothes and decor for the nursery. You were putting the finishing touches on the nursery when you were hit hard with a contraction, making you double over. Another one racked your body, and soon your water broke. You reached out for Rhys to get Madja telling him you were going into labor.

You managed to make it into bed and put on a loose-fitting robe. Soon, Madja came in, followed by Rhys. "I'm not due for another month." You say as Madja starts checking the progress of your labor. "Everything will be alright." Rhys says from beside you. "I'm going to do everything I can for you and the baby." Madja assures you before pulling Rhys aside. "You need to get Azriel. There is a chance she won't survive this. The baby has small wings I couldn't see before." Madja whispers to Rhys before coming back to you.

"What's wrong?!" You ask, knowing it can't be good. "Nothing you need to worry about. Just focus on delivering your baby." She says as she moves into position. Feyre comes in to stay with you as Rhys takes off towards the house of wind. Feyre holds your hand and reminds you to breathe. "You've comenso far, y/n. You're almost there." She says encouragingly. You give her your best smile, but insid, you're terrified. You want Azriel to be here, to be the one holding your hand and talking you through this. "I'm scared, Feyre." You admit for the first time.

Meanwhile, Rhys arrives at the house of wind and finds Azriel outside training. "Y/n is giving birth." Rhys tells him. "Why are you telling me? Go tell the real father." He practically spits, tired of talking about you and the baby. "Because you're the real father! Although you're a real ass for forcing her to do this alone for so long." Rhys says agrily. "She cheated on me, and I'm just supposed to pretend it never happened and that the child is mine?!" Azriel says.

"Today could very well be the day she dies! The baby has small wings that Madja couldn't see before, and y/n's body isn't meant to birth a child with wings!" Rhys shouts at his brother. Azriel's face pales at the news. "Now man up and go be there for her and your baby, because so far you've been a shit father." Rhys says before making his way back to your apartment. Azriel stands there stunned for a moment before taking off after Rhys.

"I need Azriel, I can't do this without him!" You say as your energy diminishes. "You have to push. Your baby needs you to push!" Madja says as Feyre dabs your forehead with a cool cloth while holding your hand. "I'm here, baby. I'm right here." Azriel says as he bursts into the room. "Az, I can't do this." You say as you cry. "Yes, you can. You will deliver our baby, and we're going to be a family." He says confidently. "You can do this, love." He assures you. "One more hard push, y/n. You're almost there." Madja says. You give it all you've got.

Tiny cries fill the room, and you ask Azriel how the baby looks. "She's perfect." He says as he admires your daughter. He turns his attention back to you and sees how pale you are. "I love you." You tell him before you lose consciousness and your body falls limp. "Y/n! Come on! Wake up!" He says in a panic as Madja orders Rhys to take him out of the room. Before handing Feyre the baby as she follows Rhys and Azriel out, leaving Madja to work.

Azriel holds your daughter, finding comfort in her tiny presence. He anxiously paces back and forth, wondering how you're doing. After seemingly hours, Madja comes out of the room, unable to say anything, for Azriel rushes in and finds you sleeping. "She's been through a lot and lost a lot of blood. She should wake up in a couple of hours, but she needs to stay in bed. She will be fine, though." Madja says. "Thank you." Azriel says as he blinks away tears. Madja makes her way out of the room, leaving Azriel alone with you and your daughter.

He looks down at the baby in his arms and notices the resemblance between himself and her. His tears fall freely as he realizes just how wrong he was and how he ruined everything. "I sure made a mess of things. Think Mommy will ever forgive me? Can't say I'd blame her if she didn't." He says as he watches her stretch in his arms. "Hopefully, you take after mommy more than your old man. I hope you have her kind heart and love." He says softly. Suddenly, she starts to fuss, sending Azriel into a panic as he's unsure of what to do.

"She's hungry." You say as you wake up to her fussing. Azriel brings her over to you and gently lays her in your arms. You carefully stroke her soft hair as she nurses quietly. "She needs a name." You say casually. "Do you have any picked out?" Azriel asks, a pang of guilt hitting him as he realizes what all he's missed out on. "I was thinking Addie." You say, watching forna reaction. "I think it's perfect." Azriel says, smiling at you and Addie.

"I never cheated on you." You say addressing the elephant in the room. You watch his shoulders slump. "I know, I was an ass for even thinking that you would've." He says. "Y/n, I'm so sorry. I left when you needed me, and I ruined what should've been the happiest day of our lives. I'm sorry I missed your entire pregnancy and wasn't there to support you like I should've been. I have a lot to make up for if you'll give me the chance." He says anxiously, rubbing the back of his neck.

"No more leaving. If you're in this, you're in it for the long haul because that's what Addie deserves, and I'll accept nothing less." You tell him. "I'm not ever leaving you again, and I'll spend the rest of our lives making this up to you and showing you how truly sorry I am." He says. "Good. Now get over here and kiss me because I've missed you." You say with a small laugh, causing your stomach to hurt. "Easy, Madja says you are to rest until she says otherwise." Azriel says before leaning over and kissing you.

#acotar #batboys #acotar fanfic #azriel #azriel x reader #acotar angst #azriel shadowsinger #azriel angst

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katiapostsss · 1 month

Text

𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 . . p. I ,, anakin skywalker

🎬//

teaser:

midnight worries

lead to sundresses and zippers.

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

warnings! :

swearing ,, talk of sex.

SUMMARY: in a fit of worry and concern for an upcoming date, you go to your roommate, anakin, for advice, putting aside your hatred for him.

〰️

| part 2 >

(based on this request. hope u like it!)

not one crevice of the earth can escape rain's wrath.

new york was beautiful, but it was also unkempt. maybe once, long ago, precipitation could've washed away the filth of shoes scuffing concrete and lingering ash, but now, no matter how much its streets are doused, cigarette smoke will forever hang in the air, dirt will forever pollute the ground.

therefore, rain only existed to annoy you.

you stood so close to the roof's edge overhead, that ricocheting water lightly sprinkled the toes of your shoes, unbelieving that this was really happening to you in that moment. your hall laid across the wide expanse of the campus, on the completely opposite side of your english class, which you clung to the perimeters of now. not 2 hours ago, when you had first walked here, the sky had been clear of any clouds, blue and cheery and happy, but now, gray swirls bruised its skin, sinking the air with moisture. of course you hadn't thought to bring an umbrella! you couldn't even ask to borrow one, either. having stayed after class, no one lurked behind once you were done catching up on the work.

so, not only would it take several minutes to walk back to your dorm, getting soaked in the process, but it only meant you'd have to take a shower immediately afterwards. you couldn't climb in bed with rain clinging to your skin, after all.

hence the reason you stood in quiet shock, hoping to whomever listened that if you kept still enough, you'd somehow open your eyes and find yourself in your bedroom. which—

"y/n?" you quickly looked up from the ground, eyes straying to the direction from which your name came from. they met green irises. henry. the kid who sat in the back, two rows from yours. the kid known only for his intelligence academically, not for his person or his role. he was antisocial in ways even you weren't, opting always for the last seat and the quietest corner. you were pretty shy, sure, but you could enjoy a good party here and there. henry though? his black-rimmed glasses fogged slightly under the pressure of the palpable humidity, black curls falling in a charmingly messy way over his forehead. why was he still here, anyways? had he not left with the rest of your peers? "what are you still doing here?"

slightly startled, your mouth fell open, finger pointing to the world beyond. "i forgot an umbrella."

his green eyes swam, studying the movement, before his hand, obscured from your vision, rose and revealed the bundle of black sheen in his hands. "you don't mind sharing, right?"

"you're a lifesaver, henry!" you quickly perked up, shoulders bunching in relief, and body involuntarily leaning slightly towards his. "seriously a lifesaver. thank you so much."

the boy beside you laughed bashfully, his own shoulders slightly lifting and falling in a shrug. "oh, it's nothing, really." he unwrapped the umbrella and it expanded, larger and larger, until he lifted it above his head and motioned you closer. rain hit it's edges slightly. quickly, you scooted closer, folding into the tight area and pressing against his side. "what hall?"

"lipton." you studied your shoelaces, which were soaked through. the walk started.

"really?" he sounded genuinely surprised. you looked to him, a smile of amusement growing on your lips as you studied his bafflement, raising a brow. his face contorted. "i— i meant— my dorm's there too. i've just never seen you around." his stuttered and frantic reply made you giggle, head turning back down.

"yea, i'm not much the productive student. more just staying in bed all day and hoping my homework will do itself." henry seemed to like that, because he laughed, and it was maybe the most empowering and pride-feeding sound you'd ever heard. "you couldn't relate though, could you?" when you met his eyes again, they found yours, bathed in question.

"what do you mean?"

"oh shut up." you batted his arm. "i know you've heard all the talk about you. people here are horrible at keeping gossip, gossip."

a smile pulled wider. "might need reminding."

"i would've never guessed the guy they call an albert einstein reincarnate was so narcissistic. you surprise me, henry."

"ah, yes. you're not just using me for my homework answers though, right?" you breathed a laugh, shaking your head.

"you actually offered me this umbrella," you countered, raising your brows. "so of course not. but... would you give them to me either way?"

he pursed his lips, face pulling taut in what you knew was fake consideration. "no."

you huffed, rolling your eyes. "worth a try."

silence took a spot beneath the umbrella with the two of you, not in a looming, menacing way, but just.. there.

"why'd you stay behind in the first place?" came a question. you looked up at him, but henry was looking ahead.

"i came in late. wanted to make sure i had all the material. you?"

"missed a presentation. just presented it—" you shrugged. "—mr. t is pretty chill about those things."

"ah, the dust bowl slideshow?" he finally met your eyes.

"yea. possibly the most droning topic ever."

his face twisted in disbelief, thick brows pinning, then rising. "you're kidding, right?" the words were accompanied by a shocked laugh. finally, lipton's brick wall loomed by your side, your hand skimming the rough rock. only a few more feet til you were at the entrance, though your attention was fixed only on him and the ground. "tell me you're kidding."

you stared incredulously at him as the door came into view, your cold fingers wrapping around the colder handle. he stood off to the side, closing the umbrella. it became a debate, your two interests in one field as you walked up the stairs and to the third floor.

"i took english for edgar allen poe, oscar wilde. not to talk about recycling," you drawled, a newfound warmth sinking its claws into your chilled skin. "y'know, the topic we already learned?"

"you're so dull," he chuckled, shaking his head. you looked his way, but henry's green eyes were fixed to the ground. your boots scuffed against carpet.

"says the einstein reincarnate." you came to a stop at your door, and he paused shortly after, turning to you.

"you don't know that. you don't know me." henry grinned, showcasing perfect teeth. "what if they're all wrong and i'm actually really stupid? how would you know?"

cocking your head, you pulled an arm out of its backpack strap, forcing the bag to its knees. from inside, you pulled out a ballpoint pen, straightening and grabbing his freehand, resting relaxed at his side.

"this isn't over." you scrawled your number on his palm, hurriedly and messily as not to think about the fact that you were giving a boy your number. when you dropped his hand and met his eyes again, he looked even more surprised than you let show. "you— call me. or— if you want to. so we can..." you rapidly picked up your bag and slung it over one shoulder. "debate. on that."

henry said nothing, quite obviously paralyzed in shock. though, his eyes followed your movements. you turned to the door, then back again. "and it's not just for homework answers." turn again, and then turn again. "and thank you. for— the umbrella, and stuff."

how embarrassing. you opened the door, then pushed because it had been jammed since you first came, and finally, it gave way, allowing you in. you quickly stumbled through, then shut it behind you, studying the shadow laying still beneath the gap. and studying. and studying. seconds had passed when the silhouette of henry's boots finally dispersed, then disappeared, and you focused on the sound of his footsteps, hand gripping knob, until he was finally out of earshot.

only then did you turn, and nearly jumped out of your skin. anakin. he stood against the dining table a little ways away, his face tilted down and his eyes on yours.

"god! can you not fucking jump-scare me immediately upon walking back into my damn dorm?!" you yelled, your tone comically different from how you spoke to henry. you did not even look his way as you annoyedly slung your bag to the floor by the closet and pulled yourself out of your zip-up jacket.

"immediately? i counted 13 seconds until you turned around."

"you know what i mean," came your sharp-tongued and quick reply, your eyes were anywhere but on his as you pushed past him and into the small closet off to the side, pulling an energy bar from a shelf. "i'm gonna be studying for my presentation tomorrow and i swear to god if you bother me—"

"might need that strauss kid for that too, huh?" he mocked, his tone laced with sarcasm as you paused and whirled on him. "learn something from him. you never struck me as the type to use someone for homework answers."

"sure, and you could learn how to cut down on the ego a bit from him, yea?" you cocked your head, fingernails biting into the bar. "not everyone fucks to get what they want, dipshit. i wouldn't expect you to know that, of course."

"poor kid—"

"studying, don't bother me!" you disregarded him as you sauntered into your room and slammed the door shut behind you, face twisted in fury. he just had to ruin everything for you. groaning, you slunk into your desk chair, resting your forehead on the cool wood and allowing yourself a moment to breathe.

in actuality, you had nothing to study for. and in actuality, it was the excuse you always used to get away from him. you despised anakin, which was apparently fine by him, because he seemed to like you no more than you did him. there was no particular answer as to why, actually. maybe because you had always dreamed of sharing a dorm with a girl that understood you and that you understood, someone who you could call a friend, bond over romcoms and a hatred for teachers with. but no, NYU mainly housed co-ed dorms, for whatever stupid reason.

it did start with his late arrivals back to the dorm, which always woke you up. to this day, you still had no idea as to why he was getting home so far into the night, passing it off as fucking around, which he denied. you argued, argued more, and decided you hated him. sure he was stupidly hot, and you were sure he knew it with how often he got hit on, but no man was worth an inconsistent sleep schedule.

a moment of unadulterated silence before you took the loud music blasting from anakin's room as a reminder to do your work, and eventually, yelled at him to turn it down.

---

henry strauss. what was it that made you think so often about him, anyways? he had never been a continuous guest in your thoughts before, you hadn't even dabbled in the idea. but now... throughout the course of the day, he was all your mind strayed to.

the upside of living with a maniacal control freak was the constant state of cleanliness in your apartment.

anakin might've been a pain in your ass, but at least he wasn't a dingy, smelly fuck boy of a roommate, the type of guy whose oder substituted for a missing maturity and personality. no, anakin had a personality. too much if it, too. it was you who balanced his perfectionism out.

you and your messes, you and your forgetfulness. you and your laundry schedule. or lack thereof. another factor added to the long list of reasons to hate anakin. he was so much better. so, you decided, to take your mind off of green eyes and thick, black curls, you'd actually wash your clothes.

"where are my headphones?" was your greeting, standing in his doorway. anakin sat at his desk, then leaned back and turned his head to acknowledge you, taking out the bud of his own pair from his ear.

"what?"

"my headphones. where did you put them."

his face twisted in annoyance. "i didn't put your headphones anywhere."

"well you're the only one who lives with me, dipshit. and i can't do my laundry without music." you invited yourself in, interrupting the clean state of his room by searching through his things. you already knew he was rolling his eyes.

"thanks for asking to come in," anakin quipped sarcastically, sitting up in his seat. you huffed as you sifted through some vinyls, possibly just to annoy him. "i thought you were studying."

"laundry doesn't do itself," you grumbled, moving onto his bookshelf. not there, not there, not— "oh you're joking—" you bit out a genuine laugh, straightening and coming back up with a box of condoms. "who the fuck are you even hiding these from? like i have a dick to steal these for."

anakin heaved a sigh, standing up and snatching the box from your hand. "i'm studying. and my sex life is none of your business."

"it is if the walls are paper-fucking-thin." you countered, meeting his eyes and smiling broadly. he threw the box onto his bed, his eyes half-lidded as he lifted an arm and pointed to the agape door.

"i don't know where your headphones are, okay?" you stared into those blue eyes, face hard for a moment, just to distract him for when you sauntered past him, snatched his own pair of earbuds, and quickly left.

---

it was halfway through your load that a string of numbers appeared on your screen, announced with a shrill ping in your "borrowed" headphones. immediately, you dropped a red shirt of yours, swiping your phone from the bench and bringing it to your face.

hey, is this y/n? your heart leaped, which would've concerned you in any other situation. but right now, you were only thinking of black-rimmed glasses and green eyes. it's henry texting, came the second ping. then, from english.

your traitorous lips pulled into a wide grin, body involuntarily moving until your back was against the machines. you looked up from the screen for a moment, forcing yourself to wait as to not seem like you were looking forward to this text, even though you were.

seconds passed, and then, your thumbs were typing on their own. i was starting to think you'd never actually talk to me again, they wrote, then hovered over the send button. you read it over and over again, eventually adding an exclamation point and a crying face to thaw the iciness from the letters you couldn't thaw with a smile or laugh.

a bubble and three, jumping dots, eager to reveal the typer's words, and then, and miss the opportunity for 'a debate'? never.

and you were giggling. giggling.

glad to see we're on the same page, henry from english, you shot back quicker than you intended, as quick as your body wanted, hitting the send button before you could think much on it.

a typing storm ensued, talk of english class, quoting shakespeare, all the orthodox things kids in college spoke of under the guise of friendly chatting. then, unorthodox things, like, 'i know you're not into parties, but..' and 'of course the child prodigy plays the piano'.

eventually, you pulled yourself up the stairs, empty laundry basket on hip and headphones stuffed only halfway into your pocket. the sun was sinking low already, and your phones' clock told you it was 10:33 pm.

when you pushed open the jammed state of your door, the lights were out save for the one in anakin's room. you sauntered into your room with an energy bar in hand, smiling and occasionally giggling at the gray text box of henry's words, dropping to your bed and laying atop the blanket. you turned to the side just as a new notification came in.

do you have time to call? your heart leaped, then stopped for a few seconds, eyes staring at the words, making them out, flipping them over. you thumbs, as traitorous as your lips, typed the response for you.

of course! and yet, you were still shocked when the phone began vibrating in your hands, his number, which you had changed to his name, flashing across your screen. you bit your lip, turning onto your back and clearing your throat before you pressed the green button and held it to your ear.

"hi," henry.

"hey," you. your heart thudded loudly in your chest, hands slick with sweat and skin prickling. the sound of his voice was so suddenly a lovely, lovely thing. "i'm surprised you're still awake," you joked shakily. "don't child prodigies have bedtimes?"

"only on school nights, duh." he deadpanned, or at least tried to, because his words were accompanied by a laugh that made your stomach twist.

"ah, i'll keep that in mind," you replied with a huffed giggle, teeth toying with your bottom lip. "for next time we talk on the phone." risky. your anxiety spiked when he didn't respond for a second, but then, another laugh.

"next time? so you're seriously not using me for english answers?" you breathed a sigh of relief, which came out as more of a chuckle.

"you didn't believe me? how rude."

you talked late into the night. late. at some point, henry, in a raspy and deep tone, asked, 'i want to see you again' and you, equally as tired, said, basically with heart eyes, 'i want you to see me again too'.

it was 2 am when finally you pressed that red button, dropped your phone to your chest and silently smiled at your ceiling. your eyes were heavily-lidded with a need for sleep and your body moved slower than normally, but all you felt was lingering excitement. happiness. it lasted even when you slept, and clung to you upon waking up. a text, significantly later than the ones before, lay in your messages.

does sometime this weekend work by any chance?

---

sunday. sunday afternoon was when you'd see him next. a picnic in north meadow was what you ultimately decided on, not too far from campus.

he apologized, then explained that he was busy on saturday. it didn't seem like a long time, 2 days, but it sure felt like it.

saturday night and you were slowly going insane waiting. there was something about the way you felt for him that made you want to confirm it was actually a crush. he was intoxicating you in ways you had never been before.

you tried, but soon enough, sleeping was out of the picture. plans to shop and prepare were set for tomorrow, but at midnight, you got more to thinking, and soon, you were pacing the small area of your room, thinking as to what you could wear, how you would act, what you'd say on your date. so what if he already showed interest in you? you wanted to be perfect. you wanted to be his type.

and so, you paced, and when the idea came to mind, you quite literally laughed out loud at the pure comedy of it, but...

you couldn't believe it. you couldn't believe you were doing this. not as you lifted your knuckles to the wood, and not as you knocked once, twice, three times, hands slightly shaking and mind a whirlwind of protestations. it took anakin 9 seconds to open the door, and there he stood, bathed in moonlight, face countered by shadows and a dim lamp. he wore nothing but a gray pair of sweatpants, his hair mussed, his chest broad and strong. it had you gawking, gulping, looking away.

"what."

"can you put on a damn shirt? have some decency?" you demanded, stare on the doorframe, though you caught the look of disgruntlement that passed over his features, the roll of his eyes in your periphery.

"in my room?" anakin countered, a brow raised.

"at least while i'm here." silence. your cheeks were flushed red, skin going hot as he glared at you a moment, before turning and swiping a shirt off his bed.

"why are you here?" he asked as he pulled it on, his shoulders flexing with the movement. you swallowed, staring only at the back of his head until he was done and sitting atop the mattress. "should i get out the condoms?"

you rolled your eyes, still half-recovering from earlier embarrassment. "no. i need... help." anakin's face contorted into what you could only guess was shock and annoyance.

"with what?" he cocked his head, face slightly tilted down. you breathed a heavy exhale, inviting yourself in and plopping down on his desk chair. dust particles danced in the dim glow of the lamp behind you.

"you.. know how men work. what do they... what do they... find— attractive." you cringed even as you said the words, nose scrunched, and for a moment, it was all quiet. he looked surprised, then confused, and then, amused. he snorted, shaking his head.

"you want me to help you make a guy like you?" came the incredulous question. you rolled your eyes, a hand rubbing up and down your arm.

"no. i think he already does. i just need to... prepare for a... date." and then, it was full laughter. you exhaled sharply as he chuckled, hand over mouth, face twisted in glee. "it's not funny. i want to be his type."

"well if he likes you," he spoke through a fit of laughter. "then you already are his type." anakin was making you feel dumb. you shifted in your seat, glaring daggers at him. finally, he quieted down a bit, sighing.

"are you done?"

"you have 15 seconds to explain before i kick you out."

"fine. okay. i guess— i just want— i want to know what to say. i don't know what to say, so i want you to tell me. i want you to teach me. i want to know what guys look for in girls.. y'know what i mean. i just have no idea what to do. i don't know how to do any of it."

"i think henry will take any chance he gets at this point." a grin. you sputtered, mouth falling open.

"how did you—?"

"i'm not stupid, despite what you think. i heard you last night. and have you forgotten that i know you gave him your number?" you flushed. "oh, what, you thought you were being sneaky?" a cocked brow, a tilted head. you rolled your eyes, looking away briefly, then back to him.

"can you help me... or?..."

"if i get the rest of the energy bars."

"i bought those for myself!"

"choose wisely."

quiet.

"fine..."

---

"stop moving. you look uncomfortable."

"i am uncomfortable."

"well you shouldn't look like you are."

you sat, on the floor in front of anakin, pretending his face was henry's and the cold wood below you was actually a field of grass and a blanket. his hand reached out and steadied your bouncing knee, and the skin that made contact with his fingers prickled oddly, a strange feeling twisting and turning within you.

"okay..." you whispered, eyes meeting his once his hand fell away and back beside him. you cleared your throat, straightening. "how are you, henry?"

quiet. his face was calm one moment, then all amusement and laughter another.

"what?!" you squeaked, feigning anger. "i did what you told me to!"

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry— i just can't take you.. seriously." he made himself quiet down, shaking his head slightly. despite yourself, you felt your lips pulling upwards. "okay. okay. i'm good now." he licked his lips. "just— look more open. like you want to talk to me."

you forced your shoulders down and back, tilted your head slightly, went through all the motions. "like this?"

he studied, then reached out, a hand under your chin, which he brought more upwards. "there."

---

"this?" it was now 1 am and you were in a floral sundress with dots of pink flowers on fabric and soft ruffles, turning in circles in the middle of anakin's dorm room. you even wore added heels, the color of book pages, and a matching handbag tucked beneath your arm.

your roommate sat at his desk, leaned back in the chair, studying your every movement in that stupid dress like you'd die in it, and you couldn't help but be a bit grateful for it.

"no," he ultimately decided, and you were left to grumble and moan as you tried on yet another outfit, which you were running out of.

next, was a plaid, loose skirt, a white tank top, and a leather jacket, which he also turned down, all pursed lips snd narrowed eyes. you thought you'd ran out of clothes completely when you stumbled over yet another sundress, except this one was the soft green of early spring. this would be the one. you even donned some extra necklaces, a spritz of perfume, new heels.

"this?" you fixed the sleeves a bit in the full-body mirror by his door, eyes meeting his face in the reflection. quiet. your brows screwed together, confused as to why he had suddenly gone quiet. you turned around, giving him that bewildered, slightly concerned look. "what? do you not like how it looks?" turn back again, to fix the dress anxiously. then, in the glass, he stood up, walking over, and his hands were on the collar, and you tried to whirl around, but realized he was zipping it up fully. you must've forgotten.

you stood there, his hands on your back and his eyes fixed to the dress, your stomach twisting and turning for the first time around him. you gulped, going perfectly still beneath his touch in fear that if you shifted, he'd go back to hating you, and you'd go back to hating him for hating you. once it was done, his fingers dropped back to his sides, and he looked carefully up and down at you through the mirror, which had you squirming, his eyes void of any emotion.

"this one."

| part 2 >

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG OMG 😭😭 (I HOPE YOU LIKE IT SO FAR)

this is only part 1. i want to finish 2 maybe the day after tomorrow but no promisesss! let me know if you'd like to be tagged and requests are always open! ❤️❤️

@blairwaldrfsworld

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todorokies · 6 months

Text

A LONG WALK - satoru gojo & suguru geto

✩࿐ a midnight summer stroll with your companions stirs certain emotions regarding self doubts & nostalgia . . .

contents: sfw, polygamous satosugu x reader (can be perceived as platonic or romantic), gn!reader, fluff & angst with some comfort, 1.3k words

a/n: based off of this fanart … pls support me by reblogging my work !!

the chilled summer breeze flows melodically through the air and finds its way swirling into your skin, arising small goosebumps on your exposed arms. you should’ve taken suguru’s advice into consideration by wearing a light cardigan for your midnight outing instead of leaving with a simple tank top.

albeit taken back by the breeze, you couldn’t be truly bothered by it, allowing the gentle wind to cascade your face caressing you softly like an embrace. with closed eyes, enjoyable fragments of your childhood flashes before your eyes with each rippling gust of currency.

your mother taking you to your first hanabi festival, getting your face painted with unique spiral patterns, the colourful loud sparks of light illuminating the sky as children’s laughs and adults’ excited clamours follows along with each firework.

your chest begins to rapidly ache by the supposedly fond memory, causing palpitations on your fragile heart. your innocence got unrightfully taken away at such a young age being forced to slave the rest of your life away to the occupation of a sorcerer, something you still haven’t come to terms with.

despite the roaring traffic in the centre of the city, a particular voice is able to pull your mind out of self imprisonment.

“a penny for your thoughts?” satoru appears standing by your side with two popsicles in one hand —one that is wrapped and the other unwrapped, presumably his.

you playfully scoff, reaching for the wrapped popsicle and satoru takes a seat next to you on the bench; your face must’ve been in clear discomfort for him to ask. “keep the penny, it’s nothing serious.” you attempt to wave off his concerns.

he nudges at your elbow, “if it’s causing you to look like you’re going through a midlife crisis on a park bench then it’s definitely serious, cmon spill it.” his words are lighthearted but voice is woven with sympathy.

“where’s suguru?” you dodge his inquiry “and you got me the shittiest flavour, really? nobody likes grape, you should know by now i’m a cherry type of person.”

satoru throws a complex glance your way but decides to not push it any farther, “he went to the convenience store to pick up some ingredients. i think he wanted to cook us beef stir-fry this time? not sure though.”

you hum in acknowledgment finding it a bit strange how he doesn’t press you for more information or your popsicle flavour statement. comfortable silence soon falls amongst you two, the frequent honking of cars and chatting of civilians keeps the streets lively. it’s a nice reminder that you’re never truly alone in such a big city as tokyo.

but alas, the warmth the eccentric city provided could never be enough to rebuild the wall of blissful ignorance you once had as a child. having to lick over the fresh wounds that reopen every time something triggers the painful truth of your inevitable death that will come from this line of work.

you must’ve been zoned out for quite some time because the grape popsicle began to melt and trickle down your hand landing in droplets on your pants.

“‘toru—” you begin but bite your tongue unaware of where to even start in your pursuit to find answers to calm your erratic mind.

“what does nostalgia feel like to you?” a stupid question indeed, as you watched satoru’s face twist and turn trying to either make sense of it or formulate his answer.

he soon replies, “it usually hits me in the face at the weirdest times, but when it does, it’s a bittersweet feeling that makes me glad i was able to experience it when i did.” he shrugs, licking at his almost-done blue popsicle.

“oh.”

“was that not the answer you were looking for?” he frowns, peering at you through his sunglasses.

“no, it’s not that, whenever i feel nostalgic it’s a gross gut wrenching feeling that seriously makes me ill. i hate it.” you truthfully express yourself.

“well, there’s no right or wrong way of feeling nostalgic, it just stems from how intense you feel about that specific memory.” his words flow casually as if this topic was second nature to him.

you huff, “since when did you become so insightful and wise?” you attempt at a joke to lighten the dull mood.

he laughs. the type of laugh where his snowy white hair bounces rhythmically with each chuckle that emerges from his throat “oh stop that! i’ve always been big brained with knowledge.”

another fit of comfortable silence washes over until you felt the urge to break it, “y’know, sometimes i wish i could live in the past forever… the present is too painful at times.”

satoru demeanour falters as an unfamiliar emotion glistens in his eyes then disappears shortly after. his eyebrows furrow causing creases in the middle, he nibbles at his bottom lip with a visible hurt expression distorting his face, “are me and suguru not enough for you?” he immediately regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth.

satoru isn’t religious by any means, but he’d like to thank whoever is higher above for making it possible that you and suguru have crossed paths with him. you both complete him and give him a sense of purpose to continue what he deems he does best at; protecting. satoru prefers to live in the present with his loved ones, not the past. hearing those string of words from you caused a small pit in his stomach to erupt.

your eyes widen, “no! that’s not what i meant—”

“sorry for the long wait, i had trouble deciding if i should buy teriyaki sauce or we should just make it ourselves.” suguru comes into view from the sidewalk with a grocery bag in hand and a popsicle in the other. his eyes dart between you and satoru, already sensing unspoken tension, “everything okay?” he quirks an eyebrow up.

“yup!” satoru responds with obvious faux glee. he stretches his legs then proceeds to get off the bench taking a quick peak in the grocery bag, “took you long enough though, we were gonna turn into skeletons soon.” he flicks suguru’s forehead then scurries off like a mouse farther down the sidewalk to avoid getting his foot stomped on.

you join suguru by his side to journey back to campus. he briefly recalls his sightings that included a newly opened karaoke bar and hydrangeas are finally in bloom having seen them on his way to the store.

“you should talk to him when we get back, let him cool off for a bit,” he refers back to satoru. his minty breath fanning against the shell of your ear, “i will, don’t worry.” you send a tight-lipped smile his way.

the walk back is peaceful. the breeze from before turned into clouds of humidity, grasshoppers chirped loudly replacing the buzzing traffic that has now quieted down, assuming everyone else is calling it a night as well.

suguru takes out his phone to check the time mumbling curses under his breath once he reads three-thirty-five am, “we should hurry back before yaga kills us.”

his words trigger something in you.

“do you think we’ll be able to survive in the long run?” you suddenly blurt out. your voice shakes as you attempt to shove the forming lump in your throat down.

context isn’t provided but suguru has a hunch of what you could be referring to. the air around gets thick and the world stills as he carefully thinks over many ways to respond to the difficult question with a simplified answer.

“i think—” he pauses, and glances over at you to see your glossy eyes reflect in the moonlight and his heart crumbles at the sight.

at the end of the day, you were all still children forced into a wretched society that measures self value to strength and was either discarded by the horrors that walked among this earth or the adults in charge of the hierarchy.

“i think we should just protect who we can and cherish our possibly limited time together.”

tags: @tokyeoi @satocidal @yunymphs

reblogs & feedback is extremely appreciated <33

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seungmoonandstars · 6 months

Text

𝒮𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓃𝒹 𝒟𝒶𝓉𝑒

Kim Seungmin/Female Reader

wc: 7.1k

rating: Mature, NON-explicit (part 2)

→ PART ONE

Part 2 of 4

The sun is coming through the trees and leaving freckles of light over Seungmin’s face and chest. His eyes are closed, hands propping him up as he leans back and stares up at the sky.

You’ve been meaning to ask the question bouncing around in your head for several minutes, but you can’t stop staring at him like this. You reach out and gently shake his foot until he looks at you.

“Hey, sorry…I didn’t mean to get quiet.”

- Seungmin is tired.

Car rides are his worst enemy if he’s trying to stay awake, especially if he ends up in the backseat. His head keeps swaying side to side. The ride is far too smooth, and he feels like a baby being lulled to sleep.

The car turns left, then right, then right again. He doesn’t need to feel it come to a stop to know he’s home.

As happy as he is to finally be done with traveling—for now, he doesn’t think he has the energy to get himself back on two feet.

He hits his neatly made bed immediately. No unpacking, no snack, no checking text messages. There is zero time between thinking about sleep and passing out; there is only a deep dreamless sleep.

____

It’s dark and warm in his room when he wakes up. His eyes stay closed tight, but he can feel how late it is. He knows he’s been sleeping far too long. Nobody bothered waking him for dinner or checking up on him, because that would have been useless. He doesn’t even mind that he missed the Giants game.

He feels much better now, until he looks down at his phone to check the time. The first problem is it’s already past midnight. The second problem is he has 43 notifications to open.

Seungmin scans over them to see if he missed anything important. Most of them look deletable, but a few he duly notes, and definitely needs to answer in the morning.

He opens the text from Choonhee, though.

Are you here for the long weekend?

He doesn’t mind texting her this late. He sends back a quick response without much thought: “I’m here until Wednesday!

Time to shower and eat.

Seungmin stands in the shower for a good fifteen minutes—clearing his mind, easing the tension he always holds in his shoulders— before finally, somewhere in the back of his memory, the part where he puts things and never ever remembers them…he remembers something.

“Oh…” he cups his face in his hands and scrubs at his cheeks, “shit.”

He takes his time getting out. An extra half an hour accidentally ignoring you isn’t going to make much of a difference now. Hair gets dried; fresh clothes thrown on. He clicks the fan in his bedroom so it pushes the warm air around. The cool night air is at least trying to find it’s way in.

Now he notices how hungry he is. Might as well find something in the kitchen before getting into a conversation. One that goes well, hopefully.

A bowl of oi-muchim, a beer, and his phone in hand, Seungmin makes himself comfortable on the couch. He pulls up Choonhee’s text messages again and hopes she still awake…

“Is it too late to text her? Do you think she’s up?”

He sends it off and tries not to watch his phone for her reply. He clicks the tv on and eats, but before his second bite, his phone goes off.

She won’t mind if it’s you

Seungmin hopes Choonhee’s right. And hopes you’ll still actually want to speak after two months of accidental silence.

Now he puts his food down, drinks some of his beer, and thinks…”what am I supposed to say at one in the morning?” He mumbles it to himself. But he starts typing anyway, letting his thumbs and his heart do the work. If he thinks too much, nothing will ever come out.

“Hey, I’m sorry I’m texting you so late. And also sorry for not getting back to you sooner. I hope you can forgive me. I’m in town for a few days if you’re interested in seeing each other.”

He reads it and rereads it. Then sends it away. It’s the best he can do.

The rest of the night is nothing but a long wait. The nap he took served perfectly as a good nights sleep, so the next few hours are spent catching up on baseball highlights, finishing a drama, and then silently obsessing over whether or not he’ll get a text back while a new show plays out in front of him .

At 7:30, Seungmin’s phone buzzes in his hand. He’s sound asleep, but still holding onto it. It wakes him right away, but it takes a moment before he can remember where he is, and what he’s doing there. Too much sleep makes his head fuzzy, and yesterday and this morning must have been a combined eleven hours.

He looks at the notification and remembers. Only the name on the screen registers in his mind before he unlocks his phone and sits up. He shakes the sleep from his head and rubs his eyes before reading…

I would love to see you

A sigh of relief. You’re not mad. Seungmin’s heartbeat picks up in his chest as he types.

“Tonight? Or today. Any time is good.”

This reply takes a little longer. He gets up to change just in case he has to run out the door to meet you. Your reply comes a few minutes later. Seungmin reads it as he’s jumping into his shorts.

I’m free all day. Do you want to come over for breakfast?

“Come over for breakfast? Are you going to make me breakfast?” he thinks out loud. He’s hoping that’s what you mean.

“I’ll be there in an hour”

____

Your internal alarm hates you. At precisely 7:25, you’re awake. Even on the weekends, you can’t sleep in. It takes a couple of minutes before you can even think about moving, but the warmth in the room and the sun peeking in eventually forces you up. You can only take so much.

Your phone, charging on the nightstand, buzzes softly. Probably an email. It buzzes again. You thought you put it on sleep mode last night, but maybe not. It’s a miracle nothing woke you up. You grab it and unplug it…

Email Spam email Work email you never opened or cleared Instagram

Text from Seungmin

“Seungmin,” you say his name out loud in case you’re still a little bit asleep. Seungmin, who you haven’t had a text from in months; who has probably been very busy and very tired when he isn’t busy, sent you a text at one in the morning.

You open it quickly, butterflies in your stomach, and read. You read it a few times. His texts are always a little longer, never one or two words. And you always read him in his voice. You’ve listened to him singing and speaking enough now that you hear it in your sleep. You don’t have to think much about your reply.

“I would love to see you”

____

There’s little time to pick up the apartment and figure out what you’re going to make for him. You do your best with what little time you have. Shower, hair, makeup…outfit. You probably should have given yourself a little more time. Too late now, he’ll be on his way soon.

It’s been nearly seven months since your blind date, but it doesn’t feel like it’s been that long. The time between his last text and today somehow felt longer. You feel like it’s going to be a first impression all over again, so you really want to give him your best. Maybe even better than last time, now that you know what you’re getting into.

In the kitchen, you start pulling things out to make, and you’re relieved to find you have something to cook for him.

You hope he likes American breakfast. You do know he likes coffee. Just a few days ago a care package came from your parents; coffee, snacks…things you miss from home. You pull out the bag of beans and start grinding.

Minutes later, or at least it feels like minutes, (the full hour, plus 20 extra minutes, has passed) you hear you phone buzz. Before you can get to it, the intercom buzzes. You grab your phone and run to the door.

“Hi I’m here”

You smile at his message and let him into the lobby before texting back, “543.” You’re surprised and a little flattered that he remembered where your building was and was confident enough to come without even confirming.

He sends a smiling emoji in reply.

Your back is against the door, eyes closed. Your picturing him walking to the elevator, pushing the button, waiting…

The elevator here is pretty slow…

He gets on and hits the 5th floor button. It comes straight up without stopping, considering the early hour. Everyone else in this building is definitely sleeping in. He turns right and walks, maybe a little hesitantly, toward your apartment, looks at the number on the door, then at your text.

He knocks gently. Three soft little knocks. You take in a deep breath; you’re more nervous than you thought you’d be. The deadbolt clicks.

When you crack the door he’s smiling down at you. You pull it open the rest of the way and stand there awkwardly for a moment. You feel like one of your eight-year-olds trying to find the right words in English. You stupidly breath out a wow and desperately hope he didn’t hear it

He stands there with one hand in the pocket of his shorts. The other hand is holding a paper bag. He swings it a little as he takes a careful step over your threshold.

“Morning.” You finally manage to say.

“Good morning,” he closes the door behind him, and his smile grows as he moves closer to you.

His face looks a little different. It’s been long enough that you’re thinking his braces have changed his smile, or maybe he’s just gotten older. The spring sun has turned his skin a few shades darker compared to October. His hair is dark and straight across his forehead; different then the last time you saw him. You’ve also gotten used to seeing him only in videos and photos. None of that does him justice. In front of you, he’s better—and you forgot how much better.

“Are you okay?” Seungmin reaches his hand toward you as if he’s going to touch your cheek, but he stops just short of you, and his hand falls slowly.

“Yeah, yeah…sorry,” you set your hand on your face where his hand should have been. “I uhhm,” you still can’t seem to find the right words. So much for a new first impression. Now what?

You put your other hand around his waist and pull yourself to him. You’re relieved when he reciprocates the embrace. He holds onto you for a while, not letting up on his grip.

“I’m sorry I didn’t keep in touch.”

Even though you had plenty of old texts to return to; to re-convince yourself that Seungmin liked you and wanted to see you again, you still needed this physical reassurance. The last two months were a lot more lonely than you care to admit, and part of you was starting to let go.

“It’s okay, I know you’re busy.”

“Still a bad excuse.” He loosens his hold on you, but doesn’t let go completely. The bag he’s holding shakes a little in his hand. “I brought this for you.”

“Another gift? You’re making me look bad.” You slide away from his grip (very reluctantly) and head toward the kitchen.

“Well, you did make me coffee. It smells good.”

Seungmin follows closely behind. The kitchen is a little bit of a mess, but cooking and cleaning at the same time is not one of your strong suits. You grab a few things and toss them in the trash, the sink, the dishwasher. You don’t even realize he’s right behind you until you turn again to grab two clean glasses.

“I can bring you your coffee. It’s a mess in here, you don’t need to see this.”

“Oh I don’t mind. You are definitely a messy cook, though. You should clean as you go!”

“Believe me, I try.” You pour the cooled coffee into a glass over ice. “I hope you like this…have you ever had Kona coffee?”

Seungmin shakes his head and smiles. You briefly wonder if he realizes how cute it is, then you pour some for yourself, “I’m sure you’ll like it.” He takes it from you and follows as you lead him out of the kitchen and into the living room.

You sit. He sits, and sips his coffee, then adjusts so he’s a little closer to you.

“How long have you been in town?” You bring your knees up to your chest and turn your body to him.

“I got in yesterday afternoon, but I fell asleep and woke up very late.”

“Oh, that explains the late text.”

“Yes, hopefully it didn’t wake you. Choonhee told me you wouldn’t mind if I texted you so late.”

“It didn’t wake me up. It was a nice surprise this morning.”

He’s bouncing his legs up and down; knees are moving together, then apart, then together again. A nervous tick, maybe. All you do know is that the movement of his thighs is distracting. You tear your eyes away, and when you do, he’s looking at you.

“How have you been?” He asks, and he’s not just making conversation. The way he speaks is sincere. “Anymore blind dates?” He whispers the last part.

“Oh, no…no,” you stare into your coffee and shake your head. “Nothing special, not since our date.”

He smiles, but says nothing.

“I did keep up with you. I caught a few of your lives, checked YouTube for new videos…”

Seungmin laughs and lays his head back against the couch, “next time we don’t see each other for a while, I will call, and we can have a real live.”

“Is that a promise?”

He thinks for a moment, “yes, promise. I’ll be a better texter…also.” He adjusts and moves himself a little closer to you.

“I’ll take either.”

“I think I just…don’t know what to say sometimes. I don’t want to say something stupid, so I don’t say anything at all. And then I forget.”

“I don’t mind if you say something stupid.” You reach out and move a piece of hair out of Seungmin’s eyes. “I’d prefer it, actually. Then I can say something stupid back.”

He tilts his head and his hair falls back over his eyes. “Good to know.”

“Are you hungry?” You move his hair again.

He looks at you without answering for a very long moment. His eyes are impossibly big and dark; bottom lip a little bit red from biting down on it. Your eyes jump from the beauty mark on his cheek (you’re also thinking about how nice it is to finally see him again without makeup), to his eyes, his nose, his lips. His hair swings back down in front of his eyes.

He brings his hand up and attempts to fix his hair, but he just shakes his head again and smiles, “yes, I am. Very hungry.”

“I guess you can help me finish up,” you reach for his hand, which he happily takes, and lead him back to the kitchen. You prepped everything, but wanted it to be fresh when you sat down to eat.

“What are we having?” He looks at the counter. Four thick slices of bread and a bowl of something milky, eggs. “Oh these I can do,” Seungmin picks up an egg and holds it next to his face. “I can fry a good egg.”

“Okay, that’s your job.” You freshen his coffee while he examines the half dozen eggs in front of him. “Make however many you want.”

“Can I make all of them?”

“Yeah,” you laugh, “I have more if that’s not enough.”

“French toast?” He examines the milky batter next to the slices of bread. “I’ve had it before, but not for a very long time.”

“Is that okay? I can always make something else.” You turn the burner on low and let the pan get warm.

“No, I want to try your french toast.”

You reach for the butter, taking great care to reach around him by placing your hand on the belt of his shorts. He watches you closely as you dip each slice of bread into the batter, and when the butter melts completely, place them neatly in the pan.

“Nice sizzle,” he whispers. And then he laughs when you laugh. “Oh, I’m doing the eggs…” He turns his burner on low, butters his pan, and cracks four of the six eggs.

Seungmin looks at you, “I don’t want to crowd them.” He nods his head at two intact eggs. “They can wait.”

“You’re the expert.”

“They will be good, I promise.”

“Even if they’re bad, I’m sure I’ll love them.”

You hear him laugh as you tend to the French toast, shaking on the cinnamon, flipping them when they’re just crispy and brown. Seungmin ooohs at them as he seasons his eggs.

“Do you prefer maple syrup or…honey?”

“Hm?” He flips the eggs carefully and takes them off the heat before turning to the selection of toppings you’re setting out.

“Can you turn my burner off?”

He clicks it off, and Seungmin finds his way to the cupboard to get a plate. He gently sets his finished eggs onto it and cracks the remaining ones into the warm pan.

“Do you like maple syrup, or do you want honey?”

“Oh…maple syrup! And strawberries.”

“And whipped cream?”

“Dessert for breakfast…” he takes one of the strawberries and bites into it.

____

You have one dining table in your tiny apartment. It has two chairs, and it’s right next to the large picture window that sits just between the kitchen and the living room. Outside is a limited view of the city. It’s nice, though. And you can afford it.

Seungmin is watching the city slowly start to move, chin resting in the palm of his hand. He has a smile on his face–it’s very subtle on his lips, but not in his eyes. You made him sit while you got the rest of the food ready, and eventually, he listened.

“Is this enough strawberries?”

He looks at you first and smiles, then at his plate. “Yes, thank you,” he waits for you to sit before whispering jal meokgetseumnida and when you pick up your fork, he follows. Seungmin opted for maple syrup, strawberries, whipped cream. He goes for the whipped cream first, eating a forkful by itself.

“Did you make this, too?” He takes another bite of it, this time with a big piece of strawberry.

You nod.

“It’s very good, it’s not too sweet.” He cuts into his French toast now, getting a bite of all three at once.

“If everything is too sweet, it ruins it.”

“Sometimes…” he says in a singsong voice, almost a whisper.

You sneak glances at him between your own bites. He’s a quiet eater this morning, but you’re comfortable sitting there with him in the silence.

“How has work been?”

“Kind of crazy.” He takes a drink of his coffee, “we will be in Japan in two weeks, and then to the US after that.” Seungmin nods to himself and divides the four eggs between you.

They do look perfect and exactly how you usually make them. Over-easy. “That’s exciting…but I’m sure it’s very exhausting.”

He picks one up and shoves the entire thing in his mouth. You can tell he wants to speak as soon as he does it, but he chews patiently. “I wouldn’t want to do anything else, but some days it is a lot. And very tiring.”

He rests his face in his hands again. He finished his food. Now he’s looking at you with the same tired eyes he’s given you before.

“Thank you for making time for me.” You say.

He sits back in his seat, smiles, shakes his head a little.

You look at him questioningly. His mannerism are cute, but you’re not quite sure how to interpret them sometimes. “What is it?”

“I’m happy to be here.”

“You are?” When you stand to clean off the table, he stands with you to help. You let him.

“Yes,” he bites into another strawberry when he gets to kitchen sink with his dishes. “I like you. You're...you're relaxing to be around. I don't feel any pressure here."

You look at him and smile, unsure of how to respond at first. "Thank you." It's not enough of a reply, you know that, but you're a little lost for words.

"Is that a weird thing to say?"

"No! Not at all. It might be the sweetest complement a date has ever given me."

Seungmin follows you wordlessly to the living room, and sits when you sit. You move a little closer to him and relax, hoping he continues to mimic you. And he does.

“Can I ask you something…um,” he purses his lips as he thinks, covers his cheeks with his hands. “Something personal I guess. Kind of. Maybe not really personal but-”

“Yes, of course you can.” You take one of his hands away from his face and hold it in yours. It’s starting to feel like the first date, except now he seems a little different than last time. Maybe he’s worn out from performing. Maybe it’s just an off day.

He’s looking down at his hand clasped in yours, “do you ever feel like, um…I guess it’s hard to put into English.”

“That’s okay, we can use whatever words feel best for you.”

Seungmin can’t help but smile at that, and a tiny laugh escapes. “I almost forgot, you teach kids. You do sound like a teacher.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! I mean…whichever language.” You pull his hand closer to you and put your other hand over it. “I’m sure between us we can figure it out.”

“You’re so sweet.”

“What’s bothering you?” You squeeze his hands even harder.

“I don’t know if you will, but if you ever meet my friends…the other members.” He stops for a moment to look at you.

You nod at him, but at the same time you’re completely unprepared for that statement. Meeting his friends? It's a big jump from where you're at right now.

“I guess I’m worried you might like them more than you like me.” His head falls back on the couch and he covers his eyes with his free hand. He sighs loudly.

“Why would you think that?” You pull him closer and shake him a little, “Seungmin…Seungmin, what do they call you when they don’t call you Seungmin?”

You get him to laugh, at least.

“Minnie,” he looks at you through his fingers. He says it again under his breath. “Min…puppy.”

“Puppy?” you scoot even closer to him, until you can almost set your chin on his shoulder. "Puppy."

He closes the gap a little.

Your forehead is almost touching his. You hold his eyes there. Then you kiss the bridge of his nose.

He leans forward and sets his head in the space between your neck and shoulder. His hair is tickling your ear, and his lips are brushing against your skin. You’re certain he can hear your blood pumping through your veins.

He lets out a long sigh. You don’t really want to say anything, you’d prefer it if the two of you could just stay like this for a little bit longer. And suddenly thinking of him leaving again (for another six months, maybe) gives you a horrible sinking feeling in your stomach.

But you need to talk to him.

“Why do you think that?”

He’s quiet for a few seconds as he searches for the right words. “There are eight of us…and sometimes I end up feeling, uhm…”

There's a long pause while you both think. He's searching for the words; you're searching his mind and his face.

”Do you feel like you're stuck behind everyone sometimes?” You think that’s what he’s getting at. You can see it in his eyes.

”Yes, I guess so. I mean, I know I am not as popular.”

It’s a hard comment for you to respond to, but the sad smile on his face makes you a little angry. Not at him, just at every single person outside of your apartment.

“Well, you’re my favorite.”

A hesitant smile appears.

Your hands close around either side of his face, and you graze your fingertips over his ears, “I’m sure the others are great, and I’m sure I could be friends with them someday...but they’re not you, and I already told you we wouldn’t make very good friends.”

You’re not sure why him being vulnerable and honest is suddenly, making you so bold, but you’re not going to question it. He’s quiet and calm as you speak, so you must be doing something right.

“I wouldn’t want anyone else here with me.” You hope he believes you, but you also aren’t a stranger to the hesitant feelings he’s obviously processing. “And I wish you could stay.”

“I can stay today!”

____

Seungmin falls asleep on your couch again. This time, though, he’s lying comfortably with his face shoved into one of your pillows and his curled up legs are almost on your lap. It’s a small couch.

You put a movie on, but he didn’t last more than a half an hour. It’s been two hours now, and you really don’t want to wake him. You’re certain he’ll get up on his own soon.

The kitchen is clean, the movie is over. You’re a little tired yourself, honestly, but you don’t think you could fall asleep while he’s here and almost in your lap. He’s a quiet sleeper, and he’s hardly moved, but you can hear his big sighs every few times he exhales.

He shifts a little when your hand touches his leg, but he settles back down immediately, and is out again. Even when your palm slides over his skin, he doesn’t move.

The soft buzz of his phone doesn’t wake him, either. But it’s going off again, and it’s the third time. You’re wondering if it’s important, but you don’t want to pry.

You run your hand over his leg again. Still nothing. It goes off again—this time it’s ringing. You can see the name on the screen without looking very hard.

“Seungmin…” You whisper. This time you gently drag your fingertips across his skin. “Seungmin?”

A little groan. His leg stretches out across your thigh. You squeeze his calf a bit and he seems to react, but not enough, so you gently move him and get up.

“Seungmin?” You kneel down until you’re face to face with him. He looks so peaceful and content, and while you hate to disturb him, you’re kind of looking forward to him slowly waking up. Saying his name isn’t getting through, though, so you place the tip of your finger at his temple and lightly trace a line down the side of his face.

A raspy mmm is all you get in return.

You bury your fingers in his hair and comb through it, kneading into his scalp a little. “Minnie?” You move down toward his neck, knead a little more, this time into a soft part of his shoulder.

His eyes open slowly, eyelashes fluttering a bit as they readjust to the sunlight in the room. He looks around before his gaze settles on you, and for the briefest moment he seems lost. But then he remembers where he is, and he smiles at you.

“Hi,” his voice is sleepy and raspy, like he hasn’t used it in a long time. He closes his eyes again.

“No no, eyes open.”

“I’m awake,” he mumbles.

“Look at me,” you lean toward his face until your noses are almost touching.

Eyes open again and he blinks a few times. “Are you gonna kiss me?” He asks, and the sleepiness in his voice is unbearable.

Yes, if he wants you to, you will kiss him. You lick your lips. But first, “your mom is calling you.”

“Oh, she’s probably wondering why she hasn’t seen me since I got home.”

“Do you want me to call and tell her you’re busy?”

Seungmin laughs and finally seems to be fully awake. He shakes his head and slowly sits himself up. “Do I have bedhead?” He rubs his eyes and runs his hands through his hair.

“A little bit.” You comb a hand through it and fix his part, “it’s cute, though.”

“Nooo it’s not,” he flattens it more and lays back against the couch. “I’m sorry I fell asleep.”

“You apologize too much.”

“Do I?”

You nod and sit down next to him, “I’m glad you were comfortable enough here to fall asleep.”

“Did I snore?” He looks a little embarrassed.

“No, you were pretty quiet. You kicked a few times, though.”

He almost apologizes, but stops himself and picks up his phone. He reads through his messages and eventually types a reply to one of them. Then he turns to you, “what should we do now that I’m well rested? Are you tired?” He throws his phone down and turns the rest of his body to you, “did you sleep at all?”

“I didn’t sleep, but I’m fine.”

“Maybe you should rest,” he smiles and tilts his head. “I can leave for a while and come back, if you’d like.”

“No, I don’t want you to leave.”

He nods, “We can try another movie,” Seungmin relaxes on the couch, pillow at his side, and extends an arm. “And if you fall asleep, we’ll be even.”

You stare at him for a long moment. It’s not until he beckons you with his hand that you realize it’s an invitation to cuddle up to him. And you take it without another moment of hesitation.

Your cheek settles against his chest, open hand spread out over his stomach. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you in a little tighter.

“Are you comfortable?” He grazes his fingertips over your forearm, very slowly, as if he’s still testing the limit of touch between you.

“I am.” You feel the goosebumps jump up on your skin, and Seungmin runs his fingers over you again, like he notices.

He does notice. You hear a breathy little laugh come from him. “Good.”

Now you think you could definitely fall asleep. He’s warm, but a good warm; not like the summer heat moving around the room. You push your face further into the space under his arm and inhale.

“What should we try to watch? Maybe something funny.”

He browses through Netflix. Meanwhile, you can feel yourself slowly slipping into sleep. But you don’t want to fall asleep. Sleeping now would just be wasted time with Seungmin, so you adjust yourself and sit up a little more.

He sits up, too. His eyes are big and a little worried.

“I don’t want to fall asleep.”

“Okay, how can we keep you awake then?”

You stare at him thoughtlessly for a few seconds. Then you feel like maybe you’re blushing because he probably (probably?) isn’t thinking the same thing your sexually frustrated mind is thinking. Now you can’t get the thought out of your head. You try not to breath out like you’ve just been holding your breath for too long.

He grins a little, so you think the thought may have crossed his mind after he said it. But he stays quiet.

“Maybe we can…go for a walk,” you say it as you exhale and then take a steady breath in. At the same time, your brain is slowly unbuckling his belt and lifting his shirt. “We should go for a walk.”

“Okay, that sounds nice.”

____

It’s warm out, but not enough to be uncomfortable.

You changed into something to show a little more skin, because you might as well try to get his mind where yours is. He may not even be interested in going there.

“So, are you allowed to date yet?” It comes out before you even decide if it’s a good thing to bring up.

Seungmin giggles. You look at him and see him covering his mouth with his hand, but the smile in his eyes is obvious.

“Sorry, that came out of nowhere…”

“It’s alright. You can ask me anything you want,” he shoves his hands in his pockets and slows his walk a bit.

“Okay, I’ll just throw questions at you as I think of them.”

“Good,” he stops and bounces on the balls of his feet, “ we should get some boba.”

You were already concerned about Seungmin being recognized on your walk, and going into a boba place seems like the most obvious way for him to be seen. But you’re not going to tell him no.

“Maybe I should go in and get us both something, it seems a little busy in there.”

“If that makes you feel better, yes.”

“It doesn’t. I just don’t want you to get any unwanted attention.”

“I think I’ll be okay,” He brushes his hand against your arm and leads you across the street. “I’m not as popular or recognizable as you might think.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“If nobody expects to see me, they’ll miss me,” he hops up on the curb like a kid. It feels like he becomes more and more relaxed as the day goes on. “But…” he pulls a black face mask from his back pocket and loops it around his ears. “I’ll be much happier if you’re more comfortable.”

____

The sun is coming through the trees and leaving freckles of light over Seungmin’s face and chest. His eyes are closed, hands propping him up as he leans back and stares up at the sky.

“Hey, sorry…I didn’t mean to get quiet.”

“I have a question.”

He sits up fully and smiles, “oh I never answered you before. No dating. Openly. Technically.” He says it like he’s not sure if he’s using his English words correctly. “Maybe that wasn’t the question.”

“It wasn’t, but I did want to know that, too.” You sip your drink and think about your question again. You had it ready to go, but Seungmin said the word openly and you lost it. “Do you know that I’m older than you?”

“No, I didn’t know. But I don’t mind.” He gets on his hands and knees and crawls closer to you. “If you don’t mind that I’m younger.”

A breeze picks up and his hair is swept across his forehead. He tousles it a little until his bangs fall back in front of his eyes.

You shake your head. “No, I don’t,” the question starts forming in your head again. “Would you ever consider dating, uhm, me? I mean, let’s say you weren’t who you are and we still somehow met. Is that something you’d…consider?

Seungmin looks at you, and his eyes have certainly never been this big before. His ears and cheeks are slowly turning red. And he’s quiet. His mouth opens a bit, but no words come out. You’re afraid you asked the stupidest question you could have possibly thought of.

You made it weird.

“You don’t have to answer. I’m sorry. Please pretend I never said that.” You lift your knees to your chest and bury your face in the space there. You whimper a little to yourself and hope he doesn’t hear it.

“That’s a tough one.”

You can’t see his face, but you can imagine it.

In reality, he’s thinking and playing with his straw. Still blushing, still smiling. If you’d just lift your head and look at him, you’d see that he’s unable to contain his smirk.

“Let’s go back to you looking up at the sky and me not talking.” You relax as much as possible and your back gently hits the grass. You spread yourself out, hoping to sink into the ground.

“No,” he sips his drink and leans back on one hand. “You asked, now it’s out there forever.”

You peek up at him briefly and see his face in the sun again; eyes closed but smirk still tugging at his lips. Quiet and thoughtful.

“Seungmin?”

No answer. You look back at the sky, but you can hear him moving and getting closer. His shadow blocks the sun from your eyes, so you open them.

“Yeah?”

“It’s okay if you wouldn’t.”

Still no answer. Your eyes close again, and then he lays down next to you. It’s a nice moment, or it would be. The birds are singing and there’s the sound of the wind through the trees. The only other people around are far enough away that you can barely hear them.

You feel like you could cry.

Maybe he just isn’t very good at letting people down. He can’t find the right words to tell you it would never work, and that’s understandable, really. He’s sweet and thoughtful and kind. He doesn’t want to hurt you. He just wants to be friends.

You cover you eyes with both hands and sigh as quietly as possible.

“I would, but…I don’t know…” he hmmms and uumms a few times. “Nobody has ever asked me out before.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“You don’t believe much.”

"If that's true, it's because you're intimidating."

"Me?" He's trying not to laugh. "I'm not intimidating! Am I? Is it my face? Do I look angry?"

"Okay, wrong word to use. You're too handsome to approach, I mean. I would have never, on my own, started a conversation with you had I seen you at that coffee shop by yourself."

Now you sit up and shade him from the sun. There’s a stray eyelash on his cheek, so you lean forward to gently blow it off.

His eyes flutter open. "I am not too handsome to approach." He whispers and lets himself laugh out loud.

“Okay fine…so I’m your first.”

“So you’re not taking it back?”

“You mentioned meeting your friends earlier. Did I interpret that wrong?”

He shakes his head.

“Then no, I guess I’m not taking it back.”

----

The trip back is not awkward. You expected him to keep his distance, physically and mentally, but he walks almost shoulder to shoulder with you the entire time. He hasn’t given you any type of answer yet, but you’re not worried about it. Part of you still wants to take it back and let things flow at a slower pace. This is, after all, only your second date. The other part of you is already on fire. It’s a tough line to walk.

Inside the apartment it’s gotten much warmer, and you regret not starting the AC before leaving. It’ll take forever to cool down now. You close the windows, lower the shades, and pull the curtains closed. Then you head to the couch and collapse onto it.

Seungmin makes himself at home by heading to the bathroom, then finding himself (and you) something cold to drink. You’re too distracted to even care that he’s digging around in your messy fridge.

“I forgot about this,” he grabs the bag from the side table and dangles it in front of his face. “Your gift.”

You sit up against the arm rest and smile at him, “thank you, Seungmin.” Inside is a small yellow dog plush. “Oh, it’s you!” You squeeze him and adjust the hoodie he’s wearing before bringing him up to your face. “Was he yours?”

“Yeah, he was mine.”

“He smells like you.”

“Is that a good thing?” He sits down by your folded legs and sets a hand just above your knee.

He’s touchy today...almost as much as you. And for never being properly asked out (now you wonder what else he hasn’t experienced), he knows just what to do to make you squirm.

You sit up a little more, bumping his hand off of you by mistake. He pulls it back a little, so you reach out and take it in yours. “Yeah, it is.”

He squeezes your hand and pulls you closer so he can place a kiss on your lips. You kiss back, but your brain takes a second to catch up with your mouth. When it finally does, you kiss hard enough to force him back against the couch.

Seungmin is better in action than he is with words today.

He doesn’t struggle against you or ease up, but pushes on with just as much enthusiasm.

You don’t know what to do with your hands, though. You have a lot of options. Through the hair? No. Neck? Maybe, but you don’t want to be too rough at this angle, and he might not be into that. Face? It’s a good option, and his cheeks are soft and nice to touch. And it's not too much.

Before you can decide, he takes your other hand and pulls until you have no choice but to swing a leg over his lap. And then his hands are on either side of your thighs.

You pull back and look at him.

He stares back, catching his breath. “I’m sorry I’m so bad at answering your questions.”

“You don’t have to.” You let your hands wander over his chest and down his sides. He squirms just a little; probably ticklish. When your hands settle on his belt, you lean in to kiss him again. On his lips, over his cheek. “I shouldn’t have put that on you.”

“I’m glad you did,” he looks down at your hands. “It was nice to be thought of like that. It felt good.”

“If I can see you again, that’s enough for me.”

“Is it?”

It really isn’t, but you decided on the walk back that anything with Seungmin would be okay. “If it’s what you can give me, yeah.”

Your needy, clingy heart feels like it’s crumbling, but you do your best to keep it from showing on your face.

“I can’t promise much, but I can try.”

You kiss him again, and without thinking it through properly; without thinking at all, really, you slide your fingers down and over the zipper of his shorts and feel the significant bulge that you somehow didn’t notice before.

Seungmin’s tiny oh and his hand wrapping around the offending wrist makes your stomach sink. His eyes are wide and fixed on you.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you gently push yourself away from him and sit against the opposite side of the couch, hands covering your red face. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking…”

“It’s okay,” he giggles and adjusts himself, and you watch from behind one hand as he runs a palm between his thighs. “Please don’t be upset, you didn’t do anything wrong.” His voice softens as he speaks, and the last part is a barely audible whisper, “it was my fault.” But the grin on his face only sharpens. He’s looking down at his hands as they nervously fidget with the hem of his shorts.

“Was that uh, a first, too?” You regret asking it as soon as it leaves your mouth.

He doesn’t answer right away. You’re worried he feels embarrassed about it. And you feel weird for bringing it up. The urge to get closer to him is kept under control for now.

“It’s no big deal, Minnie…if it was.”

Using his nickname breaks him from his trance, and he looks at you, blinks, nods. “Yeah, it was.”

“Did you want that? I mean, when you pulled me on top of you.” Now you scoot a little closer. “You can give me boundaries.”

“I got caught up in the moment.” He starts, thinking and picking his words carefully. “But I did want to kiss you like that.”

“Got it,” closer still, until your knee is brushing against his thigh. “You can always stop me if I go overboard. Sometimes I can be too much.”

“Is that bad? Too much is sometimes nice.”

“I guess it depends…”

You lean forward until your forehead can lay on his shoulder. His cheek rests on your head. You stay that way until you feel yourself relaxing and drifting into a half-sleep.

“I think it’s time to rest.” You don’t move, but Seungmin lifts his head.

“That’s a good idea,” He grabs the pillow to his right and puts it on your side of the couch. “Do you want me to stay?”

You lay back on the couch and sigh. “Yeah, I do. If you want to.”

“I do…move over.”

#kim seungmin #skz fluff #skz seungmin #skz x you #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin x y/n #seungmin x you #seungmin x reader #seungmin x y/n #stray kids fluff #kim seungmin fluff #kim seungmin x you #skz x reader #skz smut

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mojogojocasahouse · 4 months

Text

Blushing Confessions - Suguru Geto

Suguru Geto x f!reader

When your best friend finds out there’s something you haven’t experienced, he takes it into his own hands to show you what you’ve been missing.

Words: 1.9k Content:NSFW, friends to lovers, first time oral f!receiving, unprotected p in v, oral m!receiving, multiple orgasms, overstimulation 18+ ONLY

Satoru Gojo version || SatoSugu version

It’s just past midnight when you finally spot the wreath of flowers hanging on your front door. Your ankles and calves are throbbing from the long walk home in heels, the chill in the air blocked out by a black leather jacket that didn’t belong to you.

“Thanks for walking me home,” you sigh, beginning to shrug it off to return it to its rightful owner, “and for this.”

“I’ll get it inside,” your best friend Suguru Geto chimes from behind you.

Suguru follows you in before gently pulling the thick coat from your shoulders, leaving you in the short strapless dress you’d begun the night in, your keys and purse going on the hook behind the door.

“I overheard you talking to Shoko tonight,” he confesses, your blood running cold and a shiver shooting down your spine.

There had been enough words shared between you and Shoko that night you wouldn’t want anyone to hear, most of all Suguru. A few drinks earlier in the night had your tongue loose, and the conversation had gotten much more suggestive as the laughs had flowed. You were freshly single, breaking it off with the guy you’d been with since high school, and Shoko had been eager to get all the dirt on him that she could. That, and you’d finally admitted that the crush on a “mutual friend” she always teased you about having had actually been true all along.

“Is it true?” Suguru whispers soft and deep, he’s close enough you can feel his breath hot on your ear, “That no one’s tasted you before?”

Air leaves your lungs as the backs of his fingers graze down your arm, that was certainly one of the things you hoped he hadn’t heard. In fact, you’d wanted to take the words and shove them back down your throat the moment they left your lips. Frozen in humiliation, you feel the tight skirt of your dress being pulled up to bunch at your waist, your bare ass pressing against Suguru’s linen pants as he closes any remaining space left between you, nothing but the small triangle of fabric of your thong shielding your lower half from view.

“If only you knew how long I’ve wanted this,” he purrs against your throat, “Maybe you’d have taken pity on me a long time ago.”

Through all the nights you’d thought of him as you pleasured yourself none of your fantasies had done him justice. Your body is limp when he pins you against the door, sinking down to his knees and slinging your left one over his shoulder, your sharp stiletto heel thumping against his back. He doesn’t bother slipping off the pathetic excuse of panties you’re wearing, he just nudges the thin satin fabric aside before burying his tongue in your slit. A strong forearm pressing against your stomach keeps you upright when you keel over forward, the leg you’re still standing on already quivering and threatening to give out.

It’s just long languid strokes at first, but he’s already groaning as he swipes over your dampening skin. Your limbs are on fire, and it’s taking all your focus to concentrate on the dark eyes transfixed on every gasp and expression on your face. Every muscle is shaking, you don’t notice the way you’re slinking down to the floor until the cool wood hits your ass, and somehow Suguru has followed you down without stopping his onslaught until he’s flat on his stomach, wrapping his arms around your thighs and taking advantage of the new leverage he has at this angle.

Immediately, his lips lock around your clit, sucking on the sensitive bud until your little whines go silent. Your mouth is just hanging open now, fingers running along the sleek black hair tied back neatly in a bun. Every purse of lips and flick of his tongue is stronger than the last, and he stops to collect your slick whenever he pauses for a breath, humming in appreciation for every drop.

The top of your dress slips down as your chest heaves and body slackens against the door, and his hands immediately find your newly exposed skin. You’re lost in him. His thumbs rub circles over your hardening nipples as he palms the plush of your breasts, his mouth still greedily lapping at your cunt. It’s hard to breathe, pressure bearing down on your chest and stomach like a vice, and subconsciously you begin flicking your hips over his face.

A wicked smile settles on his lips at the sight of you so undone, so wild and feral for him. You’re using him now, fucking yourself on his outstretched tongue until every muscle tenses, the dam breaking and sending a wave of relief through your body from the middle outwards. Air burns your lung as you gulp it in with loud, whimpering pants, your lidded eyes watching his hair fall over his shoulders as he pulls it free.

Before you even stop twitching from the aftershocks, his mouth is once again adhering to your slick, swollen folds. You scream out in shock, your body still too sensitive, but Suguru has no intention of relenting.

“It’s too much,” you slur, but your fingers thread in his silky locks gently, combing through them affectionately, “I can’t—“

“Try,” he purrs, kissing your overstimulated bundle of nerves, “You can take it. For me?”

That poisoned honey tone could command you to do anything.

“So sweet,” he hums after his tongue swipes over your fluttering hole, “You’re still dripping.”

“Fuck me,” you beg, not even in control of your own thoughts anymore, “Fuck me, please.”

“Soon. But there’s something I want first.”

Pleasure won out over discomfort beneath his skilled ministrations, heat bubbling in your belly once again as his teeth grazed your inner thigh. You’re so swollen, just his middle finger feels like a stretch when he pushes up into your pussy, his chuckle over just how tight you are hot against your soaked skin.

After a few strokes, he stuffs you with a second finger, curling them to massage along your inner wall. White-hot heat prickles your skin as a thin sheen of sweat has you glowing in the dim light, it’s an entirely different level of bliss now. This feels heavier, every drag of his thick digits can be felt all the way in the tips of your fingers, the added wet heat of his mouth shamelessly running through your slit and over his own fingers drenched in your juices making it unbearable.

Wriggling your hips, you try to get away, but you’re keeping his head in place between your legs with an iron grip. You know your neighbors can hear your wanton cries, they’re echoing off the walls as a wildfire burns through your veins. Suguru is unrelenting, his fingers moving faster, pressing harder, scraping against the soft patch he’s pinpointed with proficient accuracy until you're gushing around him.

His teeth are bared in a greedy grin, his lower face drenched as he props himself up onto his elbows like he’s crawling from the trenches. Gripping the bunched mess of your dress pooled around your middle, he yanks you upright into his chest and crashes his lips down onto yours.

“See? You taste simply divine,” he says, your tongue darting out to taste yourself still strongly saturating his mouth, your fingers working on the buttons of his shirt.

As you come down from your high, you enjoy the kiss you’ve waited years for. It doesn’t feel like the first time, his lips moving fluidly with yours, the dance is graceful as you wind your arms around his neck and find his hair once again while he shoves his shirt off his shoulders. Large, warm hands slip from your waist and over the soft curves of your ass to grip the backs of your thighs, your body leaving the ground as he stands.

The blankets on your bed cushion your fall when he drops you, immediately twisting you to lay flat on your stomach and lifting your hips.

“Gorgeous,” he sighs, smacking his palm down onto your ass cheek, the sting searing down your leg.

“Please,” you beg, knotting your hands in your bedding as he notches at your opening, “Please, Suguru.”

“Have you ever thought of me?” he asks, teasing you with the tip, “When you were with him.”

“Yes.”

He groans at your admission, thrusting in and bottoming out in one stroke. There’s no time to adjust to the stretch of his cock splitting you open, he’s already dragging through your velvety walls in search of friction, slamming back in harder than the first. With each punctuated piston of his hips, your whines are choked from the force of his movements, your bones turning to jelly in his grip.

“We’ll stay in tomorrow…sleep in,” Suguru plans, his voice barely audible over the smacking of his hips against your ass, “Order delivery for lunch…Then I’ll cook you dinner…”

How could he even be thinking coherently right now? You were drooling, face down on your bed, your body limp as he ruts into you with enough force to have you sliding up the sheets.

“I’ll fuck you to sleep,” he continues as you mewl beneath him, “Soft and slow. Because I know you’ll be sore.”

You’re clenching around him at the suggestion. As his movements grow more frantic and sloppy, you’re building towards your third orgasm of the night. Exhaustion doesn’t even begin to encapsulate what you feel, the only word you can manage to babble is his name, and it only fuels him faster.

“I won’t come without you,” he coos, curling his chest around your back, “Tell me what you need.”

With one hand, you drag his to your center, his fingers immediately beginning to rub circles over your clit once again, and with the other, you drag his left to your throat. He chuckles in your ear, pulling you upright with him, his hair falling down over your shoulder as he mouths at the hollow behind your ear. Your tits are shaking as he fucks you somehow harder and faster, his hand squeezing around your windpipe while he kisses your gasping lips.

“Where do you want it?” he murmurs, his voice edging on desperation.

“In-inside…” you answer, and it’s the last word you utter before your air is cut off completely with his tightened grip.

It’s nothing short of euphoria when your vision begins to blacken around the edges and stars begin to speckle across the room. You hear him moaning behind you as you tense, the feeling of his cum spurting hot and thick inside of you sending you hurtling off the precipice. When he released your throat, a hoarse cry finally chokes free, both of you collapsing down onto the bed, his arm slung over your lower back. You’re both heaving for air, burning and sweating but not caring enough about the heat to separate.

When your eyes flutter open to the sight of his face you can’t help but smile. His eyes are closed, bangs sticking to his forehead, cheeks flushed red, and his lips are still swollen; he looks serene. Your fingers drift to push the hair from his brow, moving down to cup his cheek and there he lays his hand over yours, nuzzling against you in a silent plea to stay.

“Shall I run a bath?” he asks, his lips pressing to your palm, and you hum in agreement, “When I feel like moving then.”

Your lips find his in a slow, lazy kiss, no longer frantic and desperate like before. There's safety in it—a promise—as you both affirm it won’t be the last.

The other two will be out soon! Thank you so much for reading, comments and reblogs=love

#geto suguru #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru smut #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

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spectr3inl0ve · 3 months

Note

please more age gap Bruce Wayne PLEASEOLEASEPLASEPLEASEPLEASE

YES OFC ML!!! HERES CRADLE ROBBER!BRUCE WAYNE TELLING READER HES BATMAN (expanding on this post)

you and alfred are the only people in the manor, it's almost midnight. you know this because alfred let you in, telling you everyone's absent after you ask where they are. making your way up to bruces room, you take note of the stillness, the absence of noise, chaos. you silently open the double doors into the masterbedroom, and sit on the edge of the bed.

bruces presence has becoming more and more scarce in the past two months, and in a couple weeks you would be celebrating six months together. he's been more fatigued as well, and there's been countless unexplainable injuries - and some of them weren't of the smaller kind either. it's gotten to the point where bruce would sometimes wince when you touch him, brushing it off with 'muscle pain' until you lift his shirt to reveal a swelling bruise or a cut or graze. "you know how clumsy I am, baby." he smiles, and he's right, you do know. he's not clumsy. he's hardly ever available at night, and the 'date night' plans turn into a brunch on Saturday instead.

all of this makes you start questioning and overthinking your entire relationship, was he seeing someone on the side? are you not good enough? did you do something wrong? no. you didnt. couldn't have. you're as good as it gets and you know it, he knows it. even the tabloids are noticing how unhappy you're looking, always slightly pouting, perhaps a bit more clingy; always tailing bruce like a lost puppy.

tears form, and you do nothing to stop them. it's been a while since you've had a good cry. and as Steph says, "even a girlboss needs to cry!". and you completely agree. you let out all of your bottled up emotions out, sniffles turning into heavy sobs, but quiet enough to keep alfred from worrying.

through your overthinking and sobbing, you don't hear bruces heavy footsteps, and you don't hear him when he opens the double doors to his room. you do however, hear him when he gently calls your name. blood rushing to you cheeks, you stop your sobbing, wiping your nose. but you don't face him. bruce moves toward you swiftly, sitting down next to you and scooping you up into his arms, placing you onto his lap so you face him. he sees you actively avoiding his eyes, so he places a gentle, but firm hand on you jaw and guides your face to look at him. "what's got you crying, huh, pretty?" the nerve of him..."you." you hiss, furrowing your eyebrows. his face grows solemn, the colour draining. you see this as a sign to rant to him about whay he's done. and you do. you go off on him, yelling, hitting his chest and ugly crying. he just listens, nodding every now and then in acknowledgement. his calmness irks you, "do you have anything to say for yourself, bruce?" you cry into his chest, soaking his black tshirt with tears and mascara. you resurface, resembling a panda with the way your mascara smudged around your eyes. bruce, reading the room, bites back his smile and instead let's out a long sigh.

with his arms around her still, he stands, keeping her steady. "gotta show you something. you might not like it though..." the vagueness of it worries you even more. he retracts his arms from you, taking your hand and leading you to his office. while you stare off into the distance, bruce does fiddles around (I forgot how he enters the batcave thru the office 😭) and then the bookshelf reveals a secret elevator. your jaw drops as he leads you into it, pressing the button to go down. a few moments later, the elevator stops and opens, revealing a high tech...basement? cave? he steps out, you do the same. you notice how cold it is, wrapping your arms around yourself, "...what is this...? I don't understand.". the tears start up again, and this time youre unsure why. bruce comfortingly rubs your back, shushing you gently. "I...I'm...batman." he says quietly.

it takes a moment for you to process what you heard. "so you're not cheating on me...?" you sniff, looking around you. bruce goes red, oh. that's what you thought? he shakes his head, "no, sweetheart. never." he guides you toward the batcomputer, letting you play around a bit as he watches. if bruce is batman...does that mean.. "so...damian is robin? and the others are...?" you look at him with a quizzical look, sniffling. he gives me a small smile, "yeah, baby." "that explains a lot." you hit his chest and chuckle.

hope this was alr, please send asks abt cradle robber!bruce wayne or dick or jason!!!

#°○☆spectr3inl0ve #cradle robber!bruce wayne #monty loves dc #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne headcanon #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne #batman x reader #batman x reader imagine #ignore these tags im just trying to get more reach #jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader smut #dick grayson headcanon #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #red hood headcanon

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corroded-hellfire · 1 year

Note

Hi Amy,

Can I pls request reader and eddie waiting for a special moment to ‘do it’? Like maybe they planned it after prom but then everything they planned went wrong. So in the end they give up and it just happens in the most natural way.

It can be without the actual smut if you don’t feel comfortable. I love your writing and I’m going through each fic you have out. Thanks a lot ☺️☺️

I love this idea so much! It’s so cute, thank you so much for sending it in 😊

Warnings: smut, unprotected p in v (wrap it up)

Words: 2.6k

“Are you kidding me?” You smack your fist against the bathroom counter in anger.

“Hey, you okay?” Nancy gently knocks on the door.

“Fine.” You sound far from it.

Nancy patiently waits in the hallway for you to come out. She raises an eyebrow at you.

“What’s going on?” she asks.

“I’ve got my period,” you tell her as you walk past her and back into her bedroom.

“That sucks,” she says as she trails behind you. She shuts the door once you’re both back inside and you flop down face first on her bed. You mumble something against the mattress but Nancy can’t make it out. “Want to try that again?”

You groan and turn your head to the side so she can understand you.

“I don’t wanna go to prom on my period.”

“I know,” Nancy says sympathetically. She sits down next to you and pats your leg. “At least you have a dark dress.”

Shaking your head, you roll onto your back and stare at the ceiling.

“You don’t understand,” you say. “We got a room. Eddie and I… We were supposed to have our first time tomorrow night.”

“Oh.” Nancy lays down beside you. “Yeah, that really sucks. I hadn’t realized you guys haven’t done it yet.”

“We said we were going to wait for the right time,” you say with a sigh. “It was supposed to be prom.”

Nancy turns her head to the side to look at you.

“You two are disgustingly and grossly in love. Any time will be the right time.”

A blush heats your cheeks and you let out a chuckle.

As soon as you get home from Nancy’s, you call Eddie to break the news to him. He’s bummed, but would never let you know that. Instead, he brings chocolate and a heating pad and cuddles you the whole night after prom, in the big comfy hotel bed.

The next attempt is after graduation a few weeks later. Eddie finally graduating makes you want to just pull him into a bathroom once all the caps were thrown in the air, but it’s hard when family and friends swarm both of you in congratulations. The plan is to go to the party at Chrissy’s for a while, then head out to your house, empty and just waiting for the two of you to get down to business.

All your friends are at the party, dancing, drinking, having a fun time. Eddie doesn’t really want to dance, but you manage to convince him. Neither of you drink too much because you don’t want anything to take away from experiencing everything with each other tonight. No disorientation, numbing, nothing. You both want to be fully aware of every little touch.

Eddie raises his eyebrows at you sometime just after midnight, silently asking if you want to get going. Not hesitating for a moment, you grab Eddie’s wrist and drag him to the front door. The warm summer breeze hits your skin as you step outside, a nice departure from the stale air in the house that reeked of alcohol, body odor, and weed. Just as you step off the porch, someone barrels out of the front door behind you.

Steve stumbles forward, eyes glazed, the scent of whiskey wafting off of him. He steps forward, and though both you and Eddie are only three feet in front of him, he doesn’t seem to notice you.

“Steve?” you ask. His eyes search at the call of his name and they finally land on you, causing him to smile.

“Hey!” He’s loud and his voice sounds carefree, happy. “What’re you doing here?”

“It’s a party, Steve,” you tell him. “We’re all here.”

“Oh yeah,” Steve says and he stumbles to the side.

Eddie steps forward to make sure he doesn’t fall, but still rolls his eyes at his friend.

“Where are your keys?” Eddie asks.

“Dunno,” Steve says with a shrug.

“Are they in your pocket?” you ask.

Steve pats at his ass and hips, and his face lights up when he feels them in his front pocket.

“Got ‘em!”

“I’ll take those,” Eddie says as he snatches them from Steve’s hand.

“Hey,” Steve pouts. He looks at you, eyes wide like he’s hoping you’ll back him up.

“You’re not driving,” you tell him.

“Fine,” Steve says with a sigh.

Eddie takes his own keys out of his pocket and replaces them with Steve’s.

“Come on, we’ll take you home,” Eddie says. He sighs as he lets Steve hold on to him for balance as they walk down the stairs.

“Cool, thanks,” Steve says. He stumbles down the steps and stops. His brow furrows for a minute and he stands completely still before darting over to the bushes and bends in half as he vomits loudly. You grimace and turn away, trying to block it out.

You move into Eddie’s arms and hide your face in his neck as you wait for Steve to finish. When he’s done, he stumbles back over to the two of you, but he’s decidedly less happy than he was before. He looks pale and his eyes have gone from glassy to bloodshot.

“Shit, Steve,” Eddie says as you step out of his arms. The both of you help Steve into the back of Eddie’s van, where he can lay down, and head to Steve’s house.

When Eddie pulls up, you frown when you see the large dark house. There’s not a single light on in the whole place and you can’t bring yourself to take Steve inside.

“Eddie, we can’t leave him alone,” you say.

“I know.” Eddie sighs and rubs a hand over his face. “Fuck.”

He puts the van back in drive and does a U-turn in the Harrington driveway to head back in the direction of your house.

Your room is the closest to the front door, so you pull down your blankets as Eddie half carries Steve into the room. A sigh of relief leaves Steve’s lips as his head hits your pillow.

“Thanks, guys,” he mumbles.

“Whatever,” Eddie huffs as he walks out the door.

“We’ll be down the hall if you need anything, Steve,” you say as you turn out the light.

Eddie’s standing in the hallway with his arms crossed over his chest. You walk over and place a soft kiss on his lips.

“Guess we’re sleeping in my parents' bed.”

“I’m guessing that’s a no, then?” Eddie asks.

“Um, duh! I’m not doing it on my parents’ bed. Or with Steve in the next room.”

“Why do we have to be such good friends?” Eddie asks through clenched teeth.

“Because we’re good people,” you tell him. “Now come on, let’s make a new plan for our first time.”

Everything was all planned out for your birthday. Eddie was going to take you out to lunch, go see the new horror movie you wanted to see, then a trip to your favorite book store, and finally back to his place where he was going to cook you dinner. Wayne would be at work for the night and you’d have the whole place to yourselves. Your perfect moment had finally arrived.

Your stomach tumbles as Eddie pulls the van up to his trailer. Both of you are so excited and fidgety that neither of you notice the other truck out front.

“Hey, kids,” Wayne says as you step through the front door.

“Wayne,” you say in surprise.

“Um, aren’t you going to be late to work?” Eddie asks.

“Took the night off,” Wayne says with a grin. “Thought I’d take you both out to dinner to celebrate this one’s birthday.” He looks at you and gives you a wink. “I couldn’t just let you eat Eddie’s cooking.”

You force a chuckle as Eddie’s hand tightens around your own.

“Well, let’s head on out,” Wayne says.

Eddie’s quiet the majority of dinner, but eventually loosens up and gets back to his old self. You’re disappointed too, but it’s still a very thoughtful thing Wayne did and you make sure to tell him that you appreciate it. When you get back to the trailer, Wayne lets you pick the movie and you snuggle up on the couch with Eddie as you watch.

Wayne didn’t have an issue with you spending the night at their place, and you still consider it a great birthday present to sleep in Eddie’s arms.

Waking up with Eddie was also wonderful. He’s awake before you, just holding you against his chest until you woke up. He smothers your face in kisses until you giggle so hard your stomach hurts.

When you get up, Wayne’s left a note saying he’s gone out fishing and Eddie heads into the kitchen to get breakfast.

“Cereal?” Eddie asks.

“Sure.” You go over to the couch and flip the television on. Eddie’s old hole-ridden Ozzy shirt tangles around your body as you curl up.

Eddie walks in with two bowls of cereal, and you can’t help but smile at his bedhead.

“Nice hair,” you say.

“Look who’s talking,” Eddie says with a smirk.

You reach up and feel that your hair isn’t much better than his.

Eddie hands you a bowl before sitting down near your feet, digging into his own breakfast. He finishes first, slurping his milk loudly, and once you’re done he takes both bowls back to the kitchen. When he comes back, you move so you can lean against him, but you stop with a chuckle as he sits.

“What?” Eddie asks as he plops down.

“You have milk on your face.”

“Where?” He wipes around his mouth, but misses the spot by a mile.

You lean forward and wipe it off with your thumb. Eddie catches your wrist in his hand and presses a kiss to your palm. Your eyes lock and a shiver runs up your spine. Looking into Eddie’s eyes, you feel so close to him. You love him and he loves you. Why were you two trying to create the perfect moment for your first time? Any time with Eddie is already perfect, and your first time would be special no matter when it happens.

He tucks some of your messy hair behind your ear and you’re certain he’s thinking the same things that you are. You tilt your chin up and he slowly leans in, slotting your lips together. As your hands go around his neck, his arm wraps around your waist and he gently lays you down. You spread your legs and Eddie rests his body between them, hands running from your waist down to your hips as his tongue delves into your mouth. A moan escapes your lips as you slip your hands up Eddie’s shirt, parting your mouths only for a moment to slide it off over his head. He copies your actions and slips his own shirt from your body. Kisses are pressed against your neck and your body arches up into his, giving Eddie the perfect opportunity to squeeze your breast in his hand.

The vibration of Eddie moaning against your neck causes your hips to buck up against his. The hard length of his cock rubs against your thigh and the feel has you letting out a whimper.

“Eddie,” you breathe out.

“Yes, baby?” Eddie whispers against your throat.

“Need you.”

“I’ve got you, princess,” Eddie says.

His hand slips down the front of your pajama pants and rubs over the thin material of your panties. Legs spreading wider for him, Eddie kisses down to your collarbone and starts to lick and nibble at your skin, determined to mark you up as he moves your panties aside and runs two fingers through your slick folds.

Chanting his name over and over again like a prayer makes him smile against your skin. When Eddie takes his hand out of your pants, it causes you to whine at the loss of contact. He shushes you gently as he starts to tug the pajamas down over your hips. Once you’ve kicked them off completely, your hands tug at his pants, which he sheds himself of, along with his boxers.

Eddie’s fingers travel south again, collecting the wetness that’s pooled between your legs before finding your clit with his thumb, rubbing small circles against it. Blunt nails dig into his shoulders and you whine out in ecstasy.

“Want you,” you say. The feeling of his precum leaking on to your thigh has you getting even wetter.

“Ready?”

“I’m ready,” you say.

With one hand, Eddie cups your jaw and presses his lips to yours, kissing you firmly but lovingly. His other hand lines himself up with your entrance and slowly pushes in. You gasp against his lips at the unfamiliar intrusion, fingers digging even harder into Eddie’s shoulders.

“Fuck,” Eddie moans against your lips. “You okay?”

“M’good,” you say.

He eases further into you and there’s a pinch. You wince, but the pain quickly subsides and all you feel is pleasure as Eddie bottoms out.

“Shit, you’re so tight,” Eddie says. He pulls his hips back and slides back in again, making both of you moan.

“So big,” you counter.

“Baby,” Eddie says with a soft breathless chuckle. “You feel too perfect. I’m not going to be able to last long.”

“S’okay,” you tell him. “Touch me?”

Eddie’s fingers come down to rub at your clit. The sounds that come out of you only make Eddie sure he’s going to cum even sooner.

“I love you,” you tell him.

“I love you too.”

His nose nudges against yours as he gives you sweet kisses. The feeling of him being inside of you is weird, but in the best way possible. Being connected to him like this has your emotions bubbling to the surface and you try to hide the tears that are prickling the corners of your eyes. Of course, Eddie notices though. He immediately stills inside of you.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay? Am I hurting you?”

“No!” You almost shout it out, cupping his face in your hands. “This is just…perfect.”

The relief washes across Eddie’s face and he leans in to press his lips to yours.

“It is perfect,” Eddie agrees.

Your fingers tangle in his hair as he presses soft and sweet kisses up your jaw to your ear. His hips stutter and a moan comes up his throat.

“Gonna cum, sweetheart. Fuck.”

“Please, baby. Want you to cum in me.”

Eddie sees stars when you clench around him, and he’s spilling inside of you, coating your walls.

“Wow,” Eddie pants out against your neck. His body collapses on top of yours and you giggle as his hair tickles your face.

“That was hot,” you say against Eddie’s ear, pressing a few kisses against it.

“Yeah?” Eddie licks over his lips, trying to catch his breath. “It was good?”

“I meant your face was hot when you came,” you say with a smile. “But, hell yes. That was amazing, Eddie.”

“But you didn’t-.”

You don’t give him the chance to finish, smashing your mouth against his in a messy kiss. It’s only when you need a breath that you pull away from him.

“Doesn’t mean it didn’t feel incredible,” you tell him. “Being connected to you like that was basically the best thing ever.”

“It was,” Eddie agrees. “We didn’t need a perfect moment.”

“Nope,” you say. “We made our own one.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #request

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momotonescreaming · 5 months

Text

A semi-sequel to this ficlet of mine

"Can you take us to the arcade?" Dustin asks in a rush, the split second Steve picks up the phone. Steve lets out a sigh, and scrubs a hand down his face. He's standing in the hall outside his bedroom, wearing nothing but sweatpants, trying not to fall asleep into the phone.

"Hello Steve, how are you Steve, sorry for waking you up the morning after you did the late shift Steve." He replies, letting the sarcasm and tiredness sink into his voice. He really doesn't have the time or energy to deal with Dustin's energy right now. Or his attitude, for that matter.

He had swapped shifts with another of Family Video's employees - Brittany, who does the late nights - in order to earn a little extra cash. And Family Video, Dustin knows this - closes at midnight on late nights. And because there's always things that need being done after the doors lock, Steve didn't get to sleep until 1am, and he was feeling it.

Dustin groans right into the speaker, the sound coming out tinny and sort of warped, right into Steve's ear. He can practically hear the roll of Dustin's eyes as he replies.

"Fine, hello Steve," he says, sounding sarcastic and exactly like he's being forced to say it.

"Thank you," Steve says with a heaving breath, suppressing a yawn. It really is too early for this. He doubts the arcade is even open yet, and Dustin's already begging for a ride.

"Now can you give us a ride?" Dustin instantly fires off, jumping straight back to the point of his call.

"Not even a please?" He replies, yawning, not able to hold it back this time. "You wound me."

"Ugh," Dustin groans. "You sound like Eddie."

"Yeah, it's almost like we're friends or something." Steve retorts, adjusting his position so he's leaning on the wall, staring through his open door towards his warm bed. It's taunting him. He could be sleeping right now. "Is your bike busted or something?"

"No, what?" Dustin replies, sounding a little confused. "Why?"

"Bike to the arcade then," he says, letting his eyes droop. "Bye Dustin."

But before he can hang up the phone, before he can head back to bed, Dustin shouts so loud Steve can still hear it when the phone isn't pressed to his ear.

"Yeah?" Steve replies, pressing the phone back up to his face, a little worried now.

"It's just-" Dustin starts, then stops, sighing. "It's getting colder, and it's supposed to rain tomorrow, and my bike is too small, and yeah, Mom said she'd drive us but she'd be way too embarrassing about it so can you give us a ride, Steve?"

All of the words tumble out of Dustin in a rush, and he's almost breathless by the end. Steve can hear his panting through the receiver. Dustin catches his breath, and it gives Steve time to think. He needs more time to processes things now, after the concussions. Likes to hold thoughts in his head first. Running them over. So Steve waits, processing Dustin's ramble, and then it hits him.

"Wait," he says, throwing a hand up in front of him, brows furrowing. "You already have a ride?"

"I mean, yeah," Dustin scoffs, sounding ever the petulant child. "But it's my mom, dude. I'm in high school now, I can't be seen getting a ride from her, that's lame."

"So let me get this straight," Steve starts up, frowning. "You wake me up to ask for a ride the day after you know I'm doing the late shift. You don't say please. And then it turns out you already have a ride? What the hell dude?"

"I mean," Dustin starts to falter. "When you put it like that..."

"We talked about this dude," Steve says, closing his eyes. Leaning against the wall, phone pressed to his ear. Voice softer now. "If you want to hang out with me you can ask. At a normal hour."

And then he hangs up.

#stranger things #steve harrington #dustin henderson #My Writing #immediately after steve hangs up he rings the munson's trailer #wayne picks up and steve asks him that if dustin rings up asking eddie for a ride #can wayne please tell him to get stuffed #wayne just laughs and says 'sure kid'#because dustin learning boundaries and steve standing up for himself is like crack to me

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discount-shades · 1 year

Text

Contract Spouse Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Crashing

A/N: So Chapter 8 was split into two chapters. The series will be 10 chapters long so I am getting close to being done writing!

Pairing: Jake Seresin/Reader (nicknamed Pip)

Warning: Angst,

Length: 2400 ish

Summary: Pip makes a decision about her relationship with Jake, and Jake’s feelings regarding spinach are revealed.

Previous Masterlist Next

You had pizza for dinner, and you hadn’t made cookies. Jake had tried to convince you to watch a movie together but you couldn’t do nothing. The anxiety embedded in you from your childhood would not let go.

Logically you knew Jake was nothing like your parents. He had said multiple times he was not mad at you, nothing about his actions indicated he was upset with you in any way, but you could not let it go. You hadn’t felt like this in years. The urge to smooth things over and make it better consumed you and you couldn’t shake it.

When Jake had been unable to convince you to stop he had joined you, turning the Bluetooth speaker on to Texas country. He helped wash the few dishes from dinner, humming along to the song playing. He vacuumed the area rugs while you swept. Whatever you did he was there assisting.

He finally catches your wrist as you start to reorganize the drawers in the bathroom. “Pip it's after midnight.” You stare at the hand on your wrist. His grip is gentle, thumb gently caressing the inside of your wrist. “The house is clean and it's time for bed.”

You finally look at him and his eyes are soft, worry lingering in them. He backs up and gently tugs on your hand and you follow him. Your heart clenches at the hopeful smile and the relief on his face. He had been shooting you worried looks all night and you can see the tension leave him. You change in the bathroom, your room still under repairs from the water damage.

When you reach the bedroom Jake is still hovering by the side of the bed. “Do you want me to sleep on the couch?”

“No Jake, it's ok.” You crawl under the covers and pat the spot beside you, feeling ashamed by your behavior all night. “I’m sorry for tonight. You shouldn’t have cleaned too. It's a ‘me problem’.”

Jake hits the light and plunges the room into darkness. You feel the bed dip as he lies down beside you. “Well you weren't stopping and I figured it would be more efficient if I helped you clean.” Your lips twitch at his words as the bed shifts. You can tell he is facing you on his side and you turn to mirror him. “You kinda freaked me out today.”

“I'm sorry,” you whisper, feeling even worse.

“I don’t want you to be sorry,” Jake's hands slide across the space between you. His fingers brush against yours and slowly tangle together like he is waiting for you to pull away. He brings your fingers to his lips and gently kisses your knuckles as traitorous butterflies erupt in your stomach. “I want you to tell me what happened. You were so upset then you were so blank and it scared me.”

“I don’t know.” You lie, unsure of what else you can say. “The interview kinda got to me.” You couldn't explain the way your brain panicked after you pushed him and there is no way you would explain why you were mad. You wouldn’t tell him that when he called you Darlin’, your heart broke. That you were sad he didn’t love you like you loved him. It made you feel pathetic.

It felt like the story of your life, loving and wanting to be loved by people who didn’t love you back. At least Jake was better than your parents, even though in the end he would probably hurt you worse.

“Just promise me you won’t leave me.” Jake's voice is strained in a way you have never heard before. “I don’t think I can do this without you.”

“Do what without me?” Your voice drops further, afraid that if you spoke too loudly it would break the fragile thread between you.

“Life, existing, I don’t know.” He pauses like he is searching for words. “Pip, I love you.” You fight to keep your breathing steady at his words, wishing there was some kind of light so you could see his face. He has said it before, but tonight, in the dark, he sounds different. Your heart beat increases as hope fills you. “You know me, and even after the divorce I need to know you will be in my corner. I need to know I’ll still be able to call you. You’ll always be my best friend.”

At his final words the spark that had filled your chest dies. “Yeah Jake,” you agree, keeping your voice steady. “I’ll always be there for you.” At your words he pulls you into his arms and you go.

Legs tangled together and his arms around you, you lie there trying to drift off, knowing Jake won’t sleep until you do. That his brain won’t let him rest if there is someone else awake in the room. Another way you know Jake like no one else does. Unwilling to move away and unable to deny yourself the intimacy you crave, you stay. After all, this is all you are ever going to get.

– – –

You awake the next morning feeling overwhelmingly warm. Jake’s chest is pressed against your spine, his nose tucked against you and his breaths flutter the hairs at the nape of your neck.

It’s too hot and you want to move but you don’t. Judging by the light filtering in through the curtains Jake’s alarm will go off soon and he will leave you then. It’s a Saturday so you have the day off but Jake has a training flight.

When the alarm finally rings you wait for the inevitable loss of warmth but Jake just reaches over and turns it off before wrapping himself back around you and nuzzling into your neck, raising goosebumps.

“How did you sleep?” you break the spell of the peaceful morning with your words. Jake hums and rolls onto his back, you shift with him so you are propped against his side but he doesn’t leave like before.

“Good,” he tells you, “really good actually.” You smile at his admission and toss the covers off so your body can feel cool air and Jake copies you. He asks you about your plans for the day and you lie together talking about everything and nothing like you used to on the phone.

It’s you who leaves the bed first to start the coffee and part of you feels more relaxed after your lazy morning. It had been nice to lie next to Jake and talk about your day but it made you realize what you truly wanted. You had been so caught up in your unrequited feelings for Jake that you had never taken a moment to think of what you were looking for in a relationship. And despite everything you feel for Jake you realize that while he might love you, he wasn't in love with you, and it was no longer enough. You decide it’s finally time to start letting go of your love.

– – –

When you look at your ringing phone and see Javy’s contact information you frown. You had spoken to the man a few times over the years but he had never contacted you for a social call.

“Javy? What's up?” Your stomach clenches when you answer the phone.

“Hey Pip,” Javy’s voice is strained. “There's been an accident, Jake crash landed in the desert.”

“Is he ok?” you hate how small your voice sounds.

“They’re taking him to the hospital. I’ll meet you there. Wives are allowed.” He says the last part pointedly and you know that he is hinting that as Jake's wife, you are expected to be there.

“Yeah, of course.” You would have gone to the hospital even if you weren't married to Jake. “Text me the hospital and I will meet you there.”

Traffic seems to slow the closer you get to the hospital. You can’t stop nervously tapping the steering wheel of the used Rav4 you had bought the week after moving. Your mind catastrophizes everything that might happen. Jake is paralyzed, there’s internal bleeding, traumatic brain injury. Jake dies.

When you are able to park you sprint to the front desk. “Lieutenant Jake Seresin, he's a pilot, where is he?”

The nurse gives you a compassionate, yet reserved look. “May I ask your relationship to the patient?”

“I’m his wife.” The words fall from your lips easily. They are words you have barely spoken in all your years of marriage and have become increasingly common the last few months.

She directs you to a different floor and when you arrive you see Javy, still in his flight suit, broad shoulders tense, pacing the waiting room. When he sees you he wraps you into a hug. “He’s in surgery,” he says, releasing you. At your look of horror he amends. “It’s for his wrist, he fractured it, probably has a concussion, but he's going to be ok.”

You sag in relief and collapse into a chair letting out a shuddering breath. You stare at your hands and notice for the first time that they are shaking. You squeeze them together until your knuckles turn white, trying to hide the trembling from Javy when he sits down beside you. You take deep breaths and slowly the shaking stops.

“He’d be happy you are here,” Javy says and you smile.

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” you say with a tight smile. “What happened? How did he crash?”

“There was some sort of electrical malfunction, he couldn't make it back to the tarmac so he landed in the desert.” You wince thinking about it and Javy continues. “He broke his landing gear off the plane so he must have hit pretty hard.” You nod and sit in silence, waiting.

“He’s gotten worse.” Javy says in a low murmur, breaking the silence. You are sitting in the corner of the nearly empty waiting room but he still glances around. “After the last mission, I don’t know, he’s different, on edge, even before the investigations. I don’t think he’s sleeping.”

“He’s not.” you say before amending, “At least not well.”

Javy sighs and you give his hand a squeeze and stare at the door to the operating rooms together. The two people who looked out for Jake while he looked out for everyone else. “He’s gotten better too.”

You look at Javy frowning, “how?”

“After the last mission, I dunno, it humbled him.“ Javy shrugs. “Made him more of a team player, less closed off. Less of an ass.” You smile. In the few times you had met Javy he had always made jokes about how you were too nice for Jake, but you never saw it. He was never an asshole around you. “You’re good for him.”

The grin on your face turns bitter. “Spinach is good for you too, so is exercise.”

“What’s your point?” Javy is frowning at you and though you feel guilty for bringing it up with Jake in surgery, you are so emotionally drained over the last two days that your walls are down.

You have hid your feelings for Jake away for so long it is second nature. There has never been anyone you can tell. And there is still something stopping you from outright bearing your soul to Javy.

“I’m not going to be someone's spinach forever,” you say following the analogy. “I want to be the gooey chocolate chip cookie that you want because it makes you happy and the bad days better, not the spinach that you keep eating because it is good for you.”

Javy is silent beside you and you begin to spin the ring around your finger again. You have no idea if Javy caught on to what you were trying not to say and a part of you is past caring. Eventually Javy breaks the silence, “Jake likes spinach, and exercise.”

You sigh sadly, “I know he does.”

– – –

When Jake is out of surgery you and Javy both get to see him. He is groggy and doesn’t do much more than mumble hello before the doctors advise him to sleep. Javy sits with you a while before a nurse insists that only one of you can stay. Javy leaves you with a hug and you curl up into the chair next to Jake’s bed.

Part of you regrets your promise from last night, that you would never leave him. You wouldn’t for good, but after the divorce you would need to go away for a while. You are staring out the window when you hear Jake's scratchy voice. “I thought I dreamed you were here with Javy.”

You pour some water into a cup and hold the straw for him. His one arm is in a cast and the other has an IV. You hit the call button the nurse had told you to press when he woke up.

“I’m glad you stayed.” His voice is less scratchy and still heavy with sleep, but there is a little smile tugging on his lips.

“I’m your wife, of course I'm here.” You smile at his groggy expression and gently squeeze his hand

“No, I want you here for me.” His smile drops, “it's not fair, but I do.” The nurse and doctor come in and you step back to let them work, mulling over Jake's words.

They keep Jake in the hospital a few days and you call out of work so you can sit with him. Mostly he sleeps but when he is awake you talk about the little things, Javy’s upcoming wedding, the house repairs, but never anything to do with your relationship. You are sitting next to Jake when Cyclone arrives. Jake goes to shift his posture and the man waves him off.

“Are you his wife?” You frown at the brusque question but nod. “Do you intend to stay married to him?” You nod again and Jake squeezes your hand. You glance at Jake, unnerved.

“Well in that case, Lieutenant Seresin I am ordering you to attend marriage counseling every two weeks for six months, with your wife.” He drops a list of counselors on the foot of the bed. “After that, and you are cleared medically, you can fly again. If you are quick about it, most of your time in counseling will coincide with your recovery.”

Your jaw drops and Jake nods. “You’re getting off light on this Seresin. Mess around again with another vindictive woman and it won’t go well for you.”

“Yes, Sir,” Jake salutes from his bed and Cyclone leaves just as abruptly as he entered.

“I think he just strengthened our case.” Jake says.

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