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#love in all forms love as hope love as the reason for it all <<3<3<<3<3<3<<3
moonstruckme · 18 hours
Note
hi lovely I hope you’re feeling better!!!! I was wondering if I could request something with poly!marauders where she’s like simmering with anxiety and isn’t having a panic attack but is sort of close bc she’s just really overwhelmed and the boys notice and try to calm her down and are just sweet <3
Thank you for requesting sweetheart!
cw: signs of anxiety
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
You appear caught in a state of restlessness. You’re meant to be reading, but Remus hasn’t seen you turn a page in ages. Your eyes keep unfocusing, your knee bouncing underneath your blanket and your fingers toying absentmindedly with the corner of your page. 
Remus supposes your boyfriends haven’t done much to create a relaxing atmosphere in your home tonight. Earlier he’d let Sirius keep an eye on the stove while he minced garlic, and of course that had ended with you and James rushing to open every window near the kitchen to get the smoke alarm to turn off, and even once he’d traded Sirius’ help for James’ there’d been several near-misses with the kitchen knives and his reckless chopping. It also doesn’t help that James and Sirius are in one of their moods where listening to them talk is like watching a tennis match. Trying to keep up could give you whiplash, but luckily you don’t seem to be paying attention as they bicker about whether rugby or cricket is the rougher sport (Sirius is only trying to rile James; James clearly knows this, but he persists nonetheless). Still, it can’t make for nice background noise. 
Remus corners the page of his own book and reaches across the space between you, taking your hand. You look up with a smile, pleasantly surprised. 
“Alright, lovely?” he asks, fingers dancing up the length of your palm to your wrist. 
“I’m good,” you reply softly. “How’s your book?” 
“It’s off to a slow start,” Remus admits, “but I’m hoping it’ll pick up soon. How’s yours?” 
You look down at the book in your lap. He almost wonders if you’d forgotten it was there. “It’s not bad.” 
“Yeah?” He lets his fingers rest over the bump of your pulse, trying not to frown at its quick beat. “You haven’t seemed to be reading much.” 
By now your conversation has caught the attention of the other boys, James turning towards you and Sirius tilting his head to see around him. 
“Oh,” James says sympathetically, “is it not very good?” 
“No, it’s fine.” You look back down at your book, a bit sheepish. “I guess I’m just a little distracted.” 
Remus hums knowingly, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. James’ brow furrows, but Sirius, true to form, asks outright, “Is something the matter?” 
You shake your head, seeming a bit perplexed yourself. “No,” you say, “I don’t know what my problem is.” 
“You seem a bit strung up,” Remus suggests gently. 
“Yeah, but” —you shrug, lips curving halfheartedly— “not for any good reason.” 
James makes a woeful pitying sound, wrapping his arms around your middle. “Sweetheart,” he laments, “do you think you might want a cuddle?” 
“Sure,” you agree, and your hand is removed from Remus’ as James pulls you into his lap, propping his chin on your shoulder with a pout, “but everything’s really fine, don’t worry.” 
Sirius leans his head on the couch cushion, looking at you with eyes sharp and contemplative. “What’s going through your head, pretty girl?” he asks. 
James covers your heart with a big hand, frowning at what he feels. You shrug. “I was just thinking about what I have to do tomorrow.” 
“You’ve been keeping busy lately,” Remus says. “Maybe you need to take some things off your plate.” 
A grimace is fixed upon your face before he’s finished talking. “It all has to get done, though,” you sigh. “No way around it.” 
Sirius and Remus exchange a look. “Maybe we can help,” Sirius says. 
You shake your head. “There’s nothing you can do,” you insist. “It’s not impossible, I’ve just been lazy and now it’s all piled up and I have to deal with it.” Your voice tenses as you lay it out, and your body with it. “It’s my problem. It’s not great, but I’ll get it done.” 
Sirius’ expression twitches into a frown at your increasingly agitated tone, and James gives you a firm squeeze, pressing a kiss into the side of your head. 
“Shh, angel, just slow down for a minute. You’re okay right now, aren’t you?” 
Some of the frustration slips from your expression. “I’m fine, I just—” 
“Then relax.” James’ voice is equal parts gentle and firm. “Take a deep breath.” 
You do. You close your eyes, and Remus can almost hear you counting as you inhale through your nose. James and Sirius, for probably the first time all evening, are silent. 
You stop breathing in. A small dent forms between your brows. 
“I can’t do it all the way,” you say, a slight vulnerability to your voice. 
Remus tries to make his low and sure to counter it. “That’s okay, it still counts. Just keep going, love. And maybe hear Sirius out.” 
Sirius very obviously fights the urge to gloat at the support, but he softens his preening into a lightly teasing look, narrowing his eyes at you playfully. “As I was saying, there have to be things we can make easier for you. What’s on your to-do list?” 
You take in another breath, and James makes a satisfied humming sound against your temple. “I mean, I really have to do laundry.” 
“Are you joking?” A grin splits Sirius’ face. “We can do that for you, baby, easy.” 
“And I have to finish my project,” you go on, as though determined to prove the impossibility of your tasks, “which will likely take all morning.” 
“I’ll be here tomorrow,” James reminds you. “Would it help if I made you breakfast so you don’t have to take the time?” 
You look surprised, head turning towards him. “Yeah,” you say. “That would be really helpful, actually.” 
“Stubborn thing.” Sirius pinches at your thigh, but Remus catches his hand before it can do any real damage. “Nothing we can do, huh?”
You duck your head sheepishly. Still, Remus can hear your smile when you say, “Sorry, you were right.” 
“It happens more often than you’d think, doll. Really astute of you to recognize it, though.”  
“For now,” Remus cuts in before Sirius can get to really gloating, “maybe it’s best to just try to relax, dove. Tomorrow’s problems will be manageable, there’s no sense in stressing yourself out tonight.” 
“Yeah,” you say, almost shyly. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking properly.” 
“Don’t be sorry, baby,” James chides, tightening his hold on you. “It’s all good now, yeah?” 
“Yeah,” you admit. 
There’s a brief pause. 
“Sorry,” Sirius says, not sounding apologetic in the slightest, “I just want to hear it from your lips one more time. You said I was what?”
358 notes · View notes
hoseoksluna · 22 hours
Text
WHITE | jjk
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pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x wine!oc
genre: smut
word count: 8.1k
summary: craving white wine, your boyfriend would do anything for you—even let you dom him.
pinterest board: wine
warnings: alcohol consumption, wine!oc is dominant and she's enjoying it, plushie used in a sexual intercourse, dd/lg, jk is desperate and so horny, hand job, oral sex (m. + f. receiving), fingering, squirting, raw sex, the importance of sex being imperfect, use of sex toys — yes, plural, dirty talk, spanking, face riding
note: i'm genuinely sorry for this—SDFKJDSLFJDSLFJS. this is the last wine drabble <3 i loved writing about them again, ugh i missed my babies so much. would you, guys, also like me to write two drabbles about the steam series? i feel like it would only be fair like this. vote in the poll below, pwease. <3 hope you like this last installment.
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Your boyfriend has an immense, insane amount of energy. 
You have partly yourself to blame. It’s Saturday night, summer at full blast and you felt it thrumming so deeply and intensely within your veins that you found yourself craving your most favored mood-lifter in the world. 
White wine. 
You’ve almost spent every weekend drinking myriads of different alcoholic beverages, but the white nectar is something you’ve quite neglected. Well, not so much as neglected, but forgotten about entirely. The last time you drank it, you and Jungkook were on far, far different terms. Fuck buddies with a degradation kink, skipping a party because you got horny again. You wonder if things would’ve turned out the same way if you hadn’t decided to spice up your getting ready time with that drink. Would it change the course of events that led him to confess his feelings for you? Would you have allowed yourself to fall for him, had he not made you drunk with his allure?
You only had to mention your thirst and Jungkook was quick to get up to his feet, take his keys, phone and wallet and he was out the door before you could say anything else. Your fond giggles vibrated across the room—so much that Bam lifted his head and jumped on your lap and so you spent the remaining time alone cuddling with the canine friend, catching up in your lovey-dovey dog language, kissing him all over until you dolled him up with red lipstick marks. 
He looked so good. Was happy about it, too, because when his Daddy came back, he was similarly quick to show him. 
And Jungkook, he laughed so hard that he clutched his own stomach, doubled over, his shoulders shaking. Then, he sat next to you on the couch, pulled you in for a hug as if he hadn’t seen you in years and very solemnly told you that it was his turn now. 
The words that tumbled out of you were so swift, without any kind of embrace of thought beforehand, that you didn’t have the time to consider the consequences they would come with until they dazzled you. Through and through, ridding you of your sense of sight. 
“You’ll get your kisses only if you show me that you bought the wine.” 
Jungkook’s eyes grew in size, darkened in nightly fashion. Twinkles flickering, dimly. The atmosphere, the dynamic and energy shifted, folding into something you haven’t yet experienced in such depth, calming your eyes until they blended back into normalcy. And you wouldn’t perceive it for what it truly was, had Jungkook not wordlessly left to fetch his bag from the convenience store, along with a corkscrew and two glasses, and had he not crouched in front of you. 
The view left you stunned. The blatantly obvious fact, too. 
The fact that, somehow, you were in control.
And it was so different from the last time due to a simple reason. Jungkook wasn’t the one who initiated it. Didn’t tell you to be in charge. Didn’t give you his control in words, in commands. No, it happened arbitrarily, on its own and Jungkook submitted to it. Submitted to you. Put down his control once he lowered his form between your knees, giving it to you this way, silently. 
A thing of utter beauty, filling you up with vibrancy, enthusiasm and… passion. 
He showed you his haul, unloading it onto your lap. Sparkling white wine in a golden bottle, dog treats, cheese and crackers and… Miffy. 
Miffy in a way you haven’t seen her before. 
Made into a sleeping position. Black eyes shut, round butt risen in the air, even rounder tail perked, body soft and drowsy. Bigger than the bunny resting alone on his bed in the other room. 
You purred, squeezing her hard before you hugged her to your chest, careful not to smear your makeup on her when you pushed her up to your neck. Looked at your quite small boyfriend with a ravening gaze as you said, “You got bunny a sister, how cute. Well done.” 
Your praise coaxed a noise out of Jungkook that you never heard before, one that stirred the eternally slumbering beast in you that had not once seen the night enveloping you. A concoction, most delicious and arousing, of a whimper and a hum. It settled within your core, teasing you there, making you want more. You told him, or the beast more like, to open the wine and he obeyed, right away. 
You watched him do it. Watched the flexing of his muscles, tense beneath the fabric of his tiger-print shirt. Watched him not spill a drop and then pour you a glass until it almost overflowed. He handed it to you, expecting you to take it from him, but you caught him off guard. 
“Taste it for me first.” 
His mouth fell agape. Remained parted when he immediately brought the glass to his lips and took a large sip. Your eyes followed the bobble of his throat as he swallowed and you gave him a big smile for it. A praise, too. 
“Good. Let me have a sip now, my hands are full.” 
In typical fashion, he drew close to you until your knees squeezed him in, legs wrapping around his torso. One hand wrapped around your hip, the other tipped the glass to your mouth and you looked at him and did not stop until you took a big gulp. 
“More.” 
He tipped it again. “Tastes good?” 
You nodded, liking the sweetness and the fizziness, but this time you didn’t swallow the nectar. Jungkook set the glass down, along with his haul, averting his gaze momentarily and you cupped his chin, bringing it back to you. Leaned in and, in a heated kiss, you spewed the wine out into his mouth. He gasped, pulling away, flushed cheeks a tiny bit full, lips pursed, one mouth end wet with a trickle flowing down. It would’ve been an adorable sight, had his eyes not narrowed, darkened further more and pierced you with such intensity that your clit gained a drum. 
Your finger felt for the top button of his shirt. “Swallow. Don’t be messy.” He did. Swore. Breathed hard. You undid the button, lifting your digit to wipe his chin clean, smearing it on his bottom lip until he opened for you. You plunged in. Let out a low sound of delight once he wrapped his puffy lips around it. 
And now here you are staring at each other, finger in mouth. His newly secured energy pulsating in him, seconds away from bursting, brutally. You can see it, vividly, and you prepare yourself for it—blaming partly yourself and, feignedly, the palatability of the white nectar for being the cause behind it. He’s waiting for the next move, countenance terribly solemn and stiff. His hands must be oh so itching to take over, but he sticks to the unspoken, patient and good. 
Taking out your finger gently, you undo the rest of his buttons, aware of the shudders zapping his body the more you reveal his smooth skin. Jungkook straightens for you, palms on your thighs, breathing heavily, a sound that brings out the strangest of oxymorons in you—simultaneous nervousness and confidence. Nervousness that you call the shots; confidence that the paintwork of his arousal is signed with your name. 
And it’s the latter that the beast plucks out, like a twig of flower off a tree. 
You push Jungkook back and slide into his lap, biting your lip at the contact of his hardness under the flimsy material of your ivory pajama shorts. His hands clasp around your small hips, but you pry them away, deeming that if you are in control, then it’s you who decides when he gets to touch you. His brows rise when you pin them down and at last he beams up at you, eyes lidded and drunk, despite the fact he merely had two sips of alcohol. Bunny’s sister rests askew in your joined laps, her head pointed towards your mound and it forces a certain idea into your muddy brain. 
One that Jungkook fleetingly interrupts. 
“You’re gonna take control of me?” 
Ooft, making it official. You hum your agreement, repositioning the plushie. Place her directly against his imprint and, pushing the soaked center of your shorts to the side, you sit down on her soft face. Begin to rock slowly. Jungkook’s breath hitches in his throat, fists clench on either side of him as well as his jaw, chin upturned. He’s holding himself back with all of his might and it is only now that you feel your wetness dripping onto the fur, now when the vibrancy of the faint pleasure spreads across your every nerve ending, now when you know that he’s struggling to keep his composure. There’s something so incredibly satisfying about it that you rock your hips harder, whimpering, hands gripping his shoulders. 
“Can you handle it?” you murmur, already knowing that he won’t be able to the moment you decide to take things further, but you give him a slither of a chance to prove you wrong, rooting for him from within with a sly smile on your face. 
Jungkook pokes his tongue in his cheek, sighing, eyes descending to your neck and to your perky, pebbled breasts under your low cut top. “I’ll handle anything you come up with as long as I get your kisses.” 
His sweet response gratifies you so much that you arch your back, lowering your hands down to his chest, the thrum on your clit becoming unbearable, the soft friction of the plushie doing very little to alleviate it. You whine, picking up your pace. “Even—even if you don’t get to touch me?” 
Jungkook hesitates, biting his lower lip. A certain sadness coasts his now big eyes that makes you coo endearingly and slow down, feel so bad for him. “Anything for you.” 
You can’t halt the groan from escaping, the groan that roots from the passion and the love you carry for him, from the principle of his submission. You’ll make it up to him. Play with him just for a little while and you’ll give him his rightful upper hand right back to him, all because he was so quick to be your little toy. Without a thought, nor a word spared. Without a struggle. He deserves it. Has come a long way. 
“You’re just my little slut, aren’t you?” You grab a hold of his throat, tip his chin up, feel his vein throbbing. “My pretty little slut. Hard for me, hm? Will do anything for me?” 
Widening his eyes, mouth parted, he moans, sucking in a breath, chest lifting rapidly. Hand automatically lifting to palm himself, just in time to realize that he can’t because the plushie and your lap is in the way. “Yes, I’m your little slut and I need you so bad. Need your kisses.” 
You hum, terribly, terribly satisfied. Horny. A fire, personified. Fire and energy—a wonderful mixture about to meet. “Where, baby?” 
His breath shakes, his being radiated by you, glistening in sweat. “Everywhere, please.” 
You drift your hands down his chest. Think he earned them now by asking so nicely. You sit back on his thighs, plushie in hand, ready to chuck her away, but then another idea comes up. 
Grabbing her by the back of her neck, you use her to kiss him. On his jaw, on his neck, on his left peck, nipple and the mole underneath, making kissing sounds. Jungkook shudders at the contact upon his most sensitive spots and you can see his disliking for it before he voices it out. You revel in it, his desperation becoming your obsession. 
“No, not from her. Please, from you.” 
But in spite of that, your craving to give him everything is stronger. 
You toss her on the couch, hands instantly clasping around his neck. You kiss him, wetly, on his Adam’s apple and he whimpers, urging you to continue. The sides of his throat, collarbones, shoulders—you mark him everywhere with your red lipstick, making a pathway down his sternum before you go sideways. Create a large shape of a heart on the left side of his peck, coloring it in with bruises, with kisses so hard that his manhood twitches in his pants. You’re so focused on adorning him, on the citrusy taste of his skin, that you don’t even sense your hands as they rid him of his shirt, unbuckle his belt and undo his button, dragging down his zipper. 
You rise to your feet, out of breath, puffy mouth, lipstick slightly smeared, head spinning. “Take off your pants and get on the couch.” 
The golden buckle of his belt catches your eye as he stands up. You wrap your hand around it and tug it out of his belt hoops harshly. There’s a hint of timidness in the vast sea of his arousal once he looks at you, aware of what you’re planning with the leather band. With a giggle, you merely wink at him and Jungkook blushes, dropping his gaze in tandem with his pants. 
“Boxers, too?” 
You edge around his side and envelop your arms around his middle, mouth pressing against his spine. A big, red mark of your lips amidst the broadness of his back. Utterly, utterly beautiful. “Smart boy, yes—off with them, now.” 
Jungkook laughs, softly, shyly. You wish you could see his blush deepen as the clenching of his abdomen divulges to you how much he liked that praise. You also wish you could feel the fluttering of the butterflies inside, if there are any at all. You’re getting to know him in such a new way that you otherwise would have never had the opportunity to do so. The shudders, the tension under his skin, the lively energy that is yearning to burst and rain upon you—it is all so awfully exhilarating, even more so the fact that you hold it all in your tender grasp. 
And he lets you. In the name of love. 
He drops his undergarment and he goes to sit down like you told him to, but you squeeze him harder against yourself. No, he’s not going anywhere. The heat, his soft skin, his gentleness and shyness—you want it all close to you, close enough to seep into your pores so it can make bed there and live there perpetually. So snug, so homely—yes, that’s precisely what it is. Home. 
You skim your hands down the defined muscles of his stomach, feeling them move under your fingers. Take his wrists behind his back and keep them there, unrestrained yet, his belt curled on the coffee table. You bring your hands back to his stomach, lowering them down—
“Can you reach me?” Jungkook asks, head turned to the side. You’re so used to degradation in your sex life that at first you thought he was mocking you, but on the contrary—he’s asking in all genuinity. With his forearms pressed to his sides, he’s bigger than he usually is and he wondered if your small form can stretch enough to touch him. 
How sweet. 
“Such a good, thoughtful boy.” You grab his length. Had to do it from the side a little bit, but you don’t mind. At least you get to see him. See the way he twists his features at the contact, see his energy and his muscles straining. “I guess I can, huh?” 
You tug at his length rapidly a few times. His body shudders again, almost doubles over before he straightens his spine, whimpers trickling out of his mouth and rooting in your heat, soaking your pajamas. And when his sounds rise in volume, you swiftly let go of him. Fetch the belt and fasten it around his wrists, leading him to take a seat on the couch. 
Manspreading, cock hard, red and long, almost kissing his belly button, hands behind his back, muscles big and flexed, face features darkened by his arousal, ravagedly fixed on you—fuck, you could come from the view. 
You sink to your knees in front of him. Itch so fucking hard to take him in your mouth and make that energy paint you in white, but watching him like this—you plan something else entirely. Pressing one kiss on his V-line, you glide your lips upon the tip of his length, making him tremble in desperation. It takes all of your strength not to give it to him, but you know he will be overjoyed with the little thought that’s swarming in your brain. 
“Where’s your fleshlight, baby?” 
Jungkook loosens a hard, flabbergasted breath and his pretty, pretty cock twitches against your mouth. 
You knew it. 
You bought the toy together yesterday. It’s still unopened in a box somewhere in his bedroom; you don’t know where he hid it. He may have not wanted to spend money on it, but when you witnessed the way his eyes glowed, you convinced him to get it. Begged him. Told him you wouldn’t leave the sex shop until he bought it and he gave in, timidly. Much to your delight.
“In the closet,” Jungkook croaks out, clearing his throat and you kiss his other V-line as a reward, kitten licking his tip for a millisecond as you rise to your feet. He whimpers, again in desperation.
“You can’t get it, can you?” you taunt, lovingly, fingers hooking under your shorts and dragging them down your hips, your top following over your head. His eyes follow your every movement, fixing on your feminine parts, muscles bulging, yearning to touch you. You grow wetter, being looked at, being desired like that. “You’re just a helpless baby.” 
He moans your name, signaling to you that there’s only so much he can take and you understand. You’re quick as you hurry to his bedroom, quick to find it, quick to pull the toy out of the box and quick to return to him. 
There’s a trickle of his male arousal gliding down his length when you stand between his legs and your own desperation to pleasure him heightens in you—so much that you’re equally quick to unfold your plan. 
You grab his chin and tip it up, harshly. Kiss him so nastily that he moans into your mouth and then… then you stare him dead in his eye. “I’m gonna put the fleshlight under bunny’s sister and you’re gonna show her how hard Daddy fucks his girls, yeah?” He’s left speechless, breathing rapidly, coated in sweat. Eyes narrowed, still darkened but now glowing with that familiar light that you saw yesterday, black irises piercing you through and through. “You should give her a name, though. Have something to moan when you fill her up, hm?” 
It’s evident, the way his brain malfunctions, but he surprises you. 
“Vinny.” 
Vinny and Bunny, how adorable. 
You coo, pecking him. “Vinny it is. Such a pretty name. I’m gonna make you nice and wet for her. Would you like that?” 
“Please.” 
You descend to your knees and you don’t hesitate to immediately take him into your mouth as far as you can. You gag around him, but you relax your throat, bobbing your head only slightly, testing yourself, wanting to stretch your throat out for him. Jungkook groans, squeaks little mewls as he doubles over once more, and the sound is so obscenely loud that your clit throbs harder in response and you would touch yourself if your craving to pleasure him wasn’t stronger. 
You pull out until you can stack both of your hands on his length and while your tongue plays with his tip, you twist your wrists. Only briefly, just to make him feel a little better before you lick him all over—just to stay true to your words. And when it’s your name that comes out of his mouth once you slobber all over him, you withdraw altogether. 
“Please… please,” Jungkook whimpers, trembling and you feel terribly bad for him. So much that you pucker your lips at him and kiss his cheek endearingly as soon as you get on your feet again, purposefully ignorant to the way your cunt likes his helplessness. 
“I got something better for you, Daddy, don’t worry,” you reassure him, slipping into the dynamic your familiarity using the title. You grab Vinny and the fleshlight, placing her on top of the toy, on the armrest of the couch—her butt and her pussy facing him. 
And when you glance at him to see his reaction to your artwork, you’re stunned by the look he gives you. Mad, mad stare. Awfully dark and menacing. It would disquiet you if didn’t know that he loved you. There’s no way you could take the liberty in toying with him like this, had you not become exclusive—had he not created a realm of safety for you to do that in. 
“I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you for this,” Jungkook threatens and the sliver of normalcy in the middle of the role-play that he caught onto makes you giddy and feel so fucking alive. The threat, too. You quiver in anticipation and excitement, grinning from ear to ear. “You’re not walking after this.” 
You laugh, softly, thrilled. “I sure hope so,” you say, grabbing a hold of his arm to lift him up. “I’m dripping for you.” 
Jungkook hisses. Won’t budge. Remains seated, looking up at you. Doesn’t reciprocate your smile. Scowls, instead. “Can I taste you?” 
You shake your head ‘no’, even if it emotionally pains you. “Not right now.” 
He sighs and you take his arm again. This time he obeys—lets you lead him into the position that you want. On his knees, still on the couch, perfectly at level with Vinny’s pussy patiently waiting for him. Jungkook looks at her for a long time, studying the silicone shape of her clit and lips. You’re certain that if his hands were free, his thumb would’ve traced her soft vulva.
“Do you like her pussy?” you ask, your grin only widening, eyes blazing, emitting hot sparkles of light. You’re perhaps more excited and enthusiastic about this than he is. 
Jungkook looks at her for a split second more before he flicks his intense gaze to yours. “Yours is prettier.” Your breath hitches in your throat and your heart follows its footsteps, skipping a beat, springing up and grazing your vocal cords. You can’t get a word out—you’re stupefied, in love, so impassioned that you resemble him with all that fire in you, taking after his energy buzzing in him. You sense the same movement in you, hotter, more vigorous. Your mouth parts and, cheeks awash with color, you’re on the verge of bursting. “Let me touch your little pussy, please.”  
You bite your lip, pause a tiny bit just to regain your composure and you sigh, eventually, gripping his face in your hand, squishing his cheeks. “I said,” you start, emphasizing your warning just to see his flush deepen like you wanted. “Not right now. Can’t you listen?” 
For a fleeting moment, there’s a heavy silence filled with his hard breaths. 
Then, Jungkook glares at you. 
“I’m gonna destroy you.” 
You chuckle, girlishly—even though his threat yet again thrums within your skin, even though your body craves to submit to him, throw the playtime away, forget about it, entirely. “Talk all you want. See where it gets you.” With your other hand, you take his length and line it up at Vinny’s entrance. “Fuck her.” 
Now—now he finally grins, a puckish smile that unnerves you a little bit, as if an idea crawled up into that smart brain of his. 
And he proves you right. 
“I’m gonna show her how I’m gonna fuck you,” he mutters, drawing closer to Vinny, to the arm rest. “Where’s the lube? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.” 
A trickle of cold sweat trickles down your spine and it’s you who’s left speechless now. You were so quick to return to him that you did forget the lube, mind void of rationality, filled with him that you forgot such an essential thing. You swear under your breath, feeling stupid. 
“Go get it before I rip this fucking belt apart and use it on you.” 
Wordlessly, embarrassed with your head down, you go back to his room and fish for his lube in his bedside drawer, noticing that it’s where he keeps the vibrator for you. You haven’t used it in so long in your playtime and you reminisce, briefly, on the last time he made you come with it. On this very bed, on his lap with bunny on yours as he rearranged your guts with the toy on your clit—teasing you by lifting it and placing it between the plushie’s legs, acting for her and screwing up his features in pleasure.
Your heart thuds at the memory, your thighs sodden with your essence, and a certain expectation creeps within its chambers. The expectation that the toy will make a comeback tonight. That is, if you even deserve it. 
You cringe at your wetness while your feet pad back to the living room. Jungkook stares you down, guilt written all over his face for being mean and it mollifies your negative feelings, dispersing them away from you. It’s enough for you—you don’t really want to talk about how you pitifully failed, nor do you want to hear a mention of it, but Jungkook seemingly does. 
Up close, his eyes are awfully soft as if he made a mistake with his last words. You don’t think he did—he’s always been the leader in your playtime, so you deem he only did the right thing. Besides, you’ve worked him up to the point of anger, so from your standpoint, he didn’t do anything wrong. You did. 
“Come here,” he says, gently, leaning in and angling his head. “Put your arms around me.” You do as he says, needing to, needing to be led for a little while before you can resume. You sink your fingers into his hair as you rest your forearms around his shoulders, even though all you want to do is rid him of his restraint and let him fuck it out of you. He kisses you with such tenderness that you whimper in sensitivity and amorousness, taking it one step further and moving your mouth against his, slipping your tongue inside. It’s a brief kiss, no matter its intensity, for he still has something to say. “You’re doing so well tonight. I never thought I’d ever get this hard from you being the boss of me. I’m sorry for snapping, you hear me?” he whispers against your lips, each movement causing his pillows to touch yours in faint, faint kisses that make your mind spin and your desire for him to lengthen across your whole body, deepening. You nod for him, hearing his words, needing them, too—glad for the honesty, for the check in, for the sliver of normalcy. “I’m just so horny and I need you. I didn’t mean it, okay? Daddy didn’t mean to talk to you like this. He loves you and you made him so needy that he’s frustrated, but it’s okay. He can handle it. Do you love your Daddy back, hm?”
You moan at the continuation of his words, running your fingers through his hair, inching closer to him until your chest softly collides with his. And his reassurement, the warm feeling of his skin, the potency of his love—it all erases your mistake, leaving only your sensual craving for him. You nod, again, like a little girl given a talking-to from her father, absorbing the lesson. “I love you.” 
Jungkook hums, pleased, pecking you. “Good. I’m gonna do what you want now, baby. Gonna make you proud, listen to every word like a good Daddy, hm? You can do anything you want to me. You’d like that? You wanna keep going?” 
You smile at him, sweetly, and he kisses your expression of contentment. It feels so good like this and you feel woozy, too. Sluggish, ready to be taken, on your way to cloud nine. You nod your head for the last time and squirt the lube all over him and Vinny’s intimate parts, your desire to take over him blending into your fuzzy feelings. 
With your help, he slides inside her, both pairs of eyes watching the slick intrusion, then meeting at once—your simultaneous groans of delight merging, fading into one another, creating one beautiful, heavenly sound, unheard by all angels and celestial beings. You hold the fleshlight steady as he bottoms out, his mouth parted, brows furrowed, eyes so heavy-lidded as he devours your gaze, your face, the pleasure he feels so overwhelming that you almost think he can’t take it. The flexing of his abdominal muscles, the roll of his hips that takes all of his strength while his arms remain restrained behind his back, his neck shiny with a layer of sweat—fuck, the sight is to die for and you melt into something boneless, jelly and gooey; becoming just a hole for him.
You can’t wait for him to fuck you. Perhaps it’s you, after all, who can’t take it. 
Jungkook begins to pound her, his mound hitting her clit with every hard motion and it strikes your awe. Your breathing quickens, the drum in your own bundle of nerves unwaveringly unbearable and what’s worse, he keeps fucking looking at you, perhaps imagining it’s your pussy that he’s ruining and your legs tremble, threatening to give out—
“Rub your pussy on the other end, please,” he begs, vocal cords so awfully strained, and this time you decide to gratify him. 
The first moan that your mouth emits makes him fuck the toy harder—so much that it slips out of your grasp. You prop your knee on the armrest, flattening Vinny’s face on the edge of the toy, so you can gain the friction you so desperately need and it works. Your cunt soaks her sleepy countenance and you flick your eyes to it, watching the fur get darker with each rock of your hips.
“Look at me,” he grunts—and you do. A hint of softness in the dark sea of his eyes, boisterous waves of arousal sloshing to and fro. “Use her like I am. Hard—” He shows you how by a stroke that reverberates through your body, stimulating your clit by bumping into it. “And then fast.” Quick thrusts that waggle with your form, your curls bouncing against your spine. 
And so you match his rhythm. It stimulates you far more than the pace you had going for yourself, your orgasm enclosing around you, inching closer and closer with each graze of your clit against the now more firm plush fur. Your brows knit, the coil in your stomach tightening to the point that it’s you who ultimately takes over and Jungkook follows, matching your rhythm, fucking Vinny faster—the silicone squeaking with each deep plunge of his length into her hole that causes your tits to slap against each other. But Jungkook doesn’t look at them. No, his eyes are set on you and you know that he knows that you’re about to come. 
Jungkook begins to pant, marked chest flushing, adorning him most finely. The knowledge is getting him there, too. “You close, baby?” 
You moan, sucking in a breath. “So close, I’m gonna come.” 
He moans with you, approving of it. “Come, then, I wanna watch you. Make her nice and wet for me, hm?” You rock your hips faster—closer and closer, gripping Vinny with all your might. “I wanna touch you so bad, princess. Kiss you everywhere. Lick that little clit. Fuck you until all that you know is my fucking name. Please—”
You come so hard that it takes both you and Jungkook by surprise, your body violently shuddering and colliding into his. He groans, deeply, following in suit, your orgasm triggering his and he sloppily fucks the toy while he watches you ride out your high, bliss enveloping you in angelic glow. 
“Yes, princess, just like that, fuck. You’re so pretty. My pretty little girl, coming so hard. Yes, fuck.” He’s losing himself, moaning your name over and over until there’s nothing left to give to Vinny, until he’s so spent that he sits back on his feet, eyes closing and opening, tongue licking his dry lips. He moans your name again, in post-high. “Please, get the belt—”
You don’t hesitate. With blurry vision and sex hormones swirling in your brain, numb by your intense orgasm, you edge around him and rid him of his restraint, flinging it somewhere away from the both of you, hating it, not wanting to see it again. 
You and Jungkook exchange a look full of soft smiles and love, with his joy like a cherry on top of that. He twists his wrists, standing up to his feet, the size difference and the sudden change in energy causing him to grow solemn. No smiles, though the love remains. You feel it thumping in the atmosphere you’re surrounded by as he completely overpowers you, naturally. And you welcome it, needing it—needing to be dominated and fucked until you’re brainless. 
“I love watching you come,” Jungkook murmurs, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and cradling the side of your face. “It’s all I want to see for the rest of my life. Every morning when I wake up and every night before I go to sleep. It’s everything to me.” 
It moves through you, his words, almost painfully with their vigor and passion, passing down your body until they settle in your core. You drip for him. Still feel so terribly lightheaded and high. “Just that, huh?” 
“And your snores.” 
You punch his arm. Jungkook laughs and gathers your hair, pulling it away from your face, stroking it down your back. A grin of your own curls your mouth. You don’t snore, at all. And you tell him. 
“You do when you’re tired.” You gasp, lifting your hand again but he catches it in time, intertwining your fingers with his. “You did such a good job today. You learn well from me. Sounded just like me. Made me proud.” He strokes your hair again and you lean into his touch, even though you don’t believe him. You could’ve done a lot better and it could’ve ended just like you planned—fucking him with that fleshlight. You guess you can save that for another time. 
You shake your head. “I messed up.” 
“But you didn’t.” He angles his head, inching closer so the gravity of his words can pierce your mind, but it does no such thing. You still have one of your own. Solid as a rock. 
“No, I shouldn’t have forgotten the lube. It ruined everything.” 
Jungkook sighs, drawing back, fondling the back of your hand before he lets go of it and clutches the nape of your neck. “Sex isn’t meant to be perfect. You didn’t ruin anything, why do you think that?” He looks at you for a long time, but you can’t take it—you drop your gaze, still feeling terrible. He calls you by your name, firmly. “Who made you think sex is meant to be perfect, huh? Bring them to me.” 
You laugh, softly, at the ridiculousness of his question. It’s him who owns your virginity—you’ve never been with anyone else before him. It’s your own expectations that make you think that. “Right here.” You point to your brain. 
Jungkook kisses your forehead. Lingers there, giving you a million tiny pecks, as if erasing everything from there that he doesn’t like. It touches you, deeply, and you can’t stop yourself from submitting to it as it melts your brain. Your mouth rounds in a pout, your bottom lip jutting out and when he gazes down upon you and sees it, he coos at you, kissing it. “I made a mistake, too, didn’t I?” You remain silent—still think he didn’t do anything wrong. “But it was still amazing and we came together, didn’t we?” 
He’s right; you’ll give him that. “You really liked it?” 
He pecks you, vehemently, on the lips and then points to the fleshlight behind him in all its glory, dripping with cum. So much fucking cum that it makes a puddle on the hardwood floor. “Do you think I would’ve cummed this much if I didn’t? Tell me, baby.” 
You swear, unable to take your eyes off of the quantity of his male essence. It draws you in, magnetically, and you obey its call, lifting the fleshlight with your hands, turning around so Jungkook sees and darting out your tongue—
“Don’t.” 
You swipe the muscle across the silicone hole, collecting his ivory arousal. Most of it trickles down your neck and bare chest and it’s Jungkook now who swears, loudly. Grabs you by your waist and, flinging the toy away, he kisses you. You didn’t even have the time to swallow. He’s tasting himself on your tongue and it causes you to moan into his mouth. He taps the back of your thighs and you jump, wrapping your legs around his torso. You don’t know where he’s taking you, but at this point you give zero fucks. 
His tender bedding grazes your back when he lays you down on it with a harsh thud, breaking the kiss and taking your breath away. Bottom lip between his teeth, he studies your soiled body with his cum, kneeling on the bed by your form. He takes his first two fingers and collects his evidence of pleasure, flicking his eyes to yours. You meet him halfway, expecting him to plunge those digits in your mouth and you’re ecstatic, wanting it badly, but Jungkook pushes you down. 
In fact, he turns you around—ass up, face down. With just one hand. 
You swear, your arousal gaining new intensity. And it’s your needy hole that he plunges his fingers in, briefly stuffing you with his cum, placing his free hand on your lower back so you can arch your spine for him more. Then, he rubs your clit in hard, slow circles, making you cry out, making your legs tremble all over again—
A spank. A brassy, cacophonous spank that drives you forward, forcing you to grip onto the sheets. 
“I told you not to do that, didn’t I?” Jungkook rasps. Doesn’t alleviate the burn. “Answer me.” 
Fuck. “Yeah, you told me not to do that.” 
You brace yourself for another spank, but it doesn’t come. You feel his lips by your ear, his body heat cocooning you as he bends over you, his fists, pitifully, on either side of your back. 
“You’re such a filthy little girl. Licking my cum off like that? Making me hard all over again for you?” he tsks, the sound making you even needier. For him, for his cock, even for another spank. You grind your ass against his hip and he maneuvers so his cock slips between your cheeks. Swears, such guttural noise that you mewl in response. “You just do what you want, huh? I guess you don’t love your Daddy anymore.” 
He spanks you again, harder than before, and your vowel of disagreement breaks at the concoction of pain and pleasure coursing through your body. “No—no, I love you.” 
Another spank. Lips by your ear again, his body clinging to your side. “You love me?” He clamps your mouth shut, preventing you from answering. 
You do, anyways, your words muffled. “I love you. I love you so much.” 
Jungkook hums in question. “What did you say? I couldn’t hear you.” He digs his fingers harder into your cheek, other hand rounding around your hip and attacking you with bolts of pleasure that make you quiver against him—rubbing your clit rapidly before he sinks his fingers inside you… and merely keeps them there. 
You move his hand away and he lets you, holding it, panting. “I love you so much.” 
Jungkook groans, sinking his fingers deeper. “Who do you love, hm?” 
He wants you to say his rightful title and you do, with all your heart. “You, Daddy. I love you.” 
At your words, Jungkook begins to pump his fingers and you cry out, placing your head on his palm, taking it. “Such a good fucking girl, making me crazy—” He growls, pressing a fat kiss on your cheek, curling his fingers slowly into that place that causes your breath to hitch in your throat, your orgasm quick to catch up to you. “Good little girl that loves her Daddy, fuck. I’m gonna give you everything. Gonna eat that little pussy, hm? You want that? Want Daddy to make you come with his tongue?” 
You squeak when he gives you one particular, hard stroke against your special place, mind numbing, a dam broken. “Yes, yes, please, Daddy, please—”
He draws away, instantly. Traces your back with his palms as he straightens, smearing your feminine essence all over your skin that he licks up. And then, his mouth—
Jungkook takes you in his mouth. All of you. Licking against your clit, sucking it, rubbing his face in your cunt and groaning against her. His hands squeeze your ass, painting it redder and he flicks your little bundle of nerves with his tongue until he senses your orgasm. Then, he pulls away for a second, stalling it. Thumbs your other, puckered hole. 
“My pretty little pussy. All mine.”
Mewling, you shake your ass for him and he growls, cursing, spanking your cheek, taking the flesh in his hand and squeezing it. Again and again, until you feel yourself drip, until you feel him spread your legs wider and nudge himself between them, opening his mouth for it to trickle down upon his tongue. 
“Sit up. Ride my face.” 
You moan before you even obey, sitting down on his tongue and grinding your pussy on it. He rolls it against you, back and forth, following your rhythm. Slow and romantic, kissing your clit every once in a while, sucking it as you keep up your movement, inching dangerously close to your orgasm. He’s in absolute control of you, though. Of your pleasure and climax, stalling it before beckoning it forth again. You lose yourself in it, in the profound and all consuming delight toying with all your nerve endings, creating something within you that diffuses you with confidence and allure, that inclines you to ride him harder, whimper a little louder and knead your breast until you leave your handprint in your wake. 
He lets you do your thing, but as you saw earlier today, there’s only so much that he can take. 
Clasping your hips, he angles them until your hole is at level with his nimble tongue, guiding you to lean back and use his chest to hold yourself steady. And like his fingers, he fucks you with the muscle, curling it each time. The filthy noise of your slick and his saliva, his breaths and hums, your obscene moans and then his thumb rubbing your clit rapidly—it’s enough, with his evident permission, for you to come. 
And you come so hard that you sprinkle his face with your dew. 
He laughs in utter joy, humming—humming deeply and you’re so obsessed with that sound that you come again, shuddering violently and he spanks you, holds you by your waist, digging in his fingerprints, allowing you to ride out your high, to use him until you’re so boneless that you slump against him. 
Jungkook drags you down, though, slipping, instantly, his cock inside of you. And it’s wild, wild butterflies that you feel in your gut owing to it, then pain so acute that you whine. Enveloping his arms around you, tightly, with no way of escaping, his wet face is so tender that you coo at him amidst the rush of your colorful feelings. Wipe away your dew, giggling, kissing him loudly as his cock adjusts in you and the bite from overstimulation withers little by little.
“You can take it, I know you can,” Jungkook whispers, beaming up at you, iridescent. “You feel so good around me. So tight. I love being inside of you.” 
Slowly, he begins to move, causing your features to scrunch up. In discomfort at first, then in relish as your stiffened nipples rub against the hardness of his chest. 
“You’re my good little girl. You take everything I give you so well. So well.” Jungkook picks up his pace, gathering your hair in his fist. Doesn’t pull on it; merely holds it. You whimper, his words loosening the overbearing tightness of your walls. “I’m gonna take care of you. You’re just my little baby. Mine—” A hard thrust. Your eyes roll back. “My baby.” 
“Yes, I’m yours,” you croak out and Jungkook takes your face in his hands and pounds into you until all you see is stars. Pretty, pretty twinkling stars. 
Slapping skin, his grunts—you don’t even see your orgasm coming, coming over you so violently and yet in such an exhilarating way. Your dew forces him out, forces his chuckles out again and he brings you back to him, kissing you, plunging his cock back with ease. 
You’re so lightheaded that you feel like an angel, soaring in the sky. An angel that years for something more. And you tell him. “Jungkook, please, I want the vibrator.” 
He merely smiles at you, arm reaching over and pulling out the toy for you from his bedside table. Turning it on, you’re radiated by the light in his eyes and you whimper in impatience. Jungkook shushes you, like a baby, clicking on the intensity until he’s satisfied, placing it on your clit. 
And then he gets up. 
Pushes you against his closet, back against the wood, legs around his waist, vibrator on your clit and his hand clasped around your mouth, preventing your loud moans from escaping while letting you know how much he loves being in charge. Giving you hard strokes that secure him your soul on a silver platter before he fucks you so fast that you can’t see anything. Your surroundings are a blur while his face remains clear, painted in tortured pleasure for you as if he were holding himself back. 
“Come for me, Daddy,” you beg under his palm, your sound muffled, but it seems that Jungkook understands you. 
Pulling away, he turns you around and gets into position again. One hand around your mouth, the other holding the toy on your clit, his dick inside. He begins to play with you, not moving his hips at all, only the vibrator. Panting against the crook of your neck, he takes a second to merely breathe with you while you’re on the pathway to another mind blowing orgasm because he turns up the intensity. “How about you come for Daddy first, hm? I know you don’t need me to move when we do this. You can come just like this. So come.” 
And you do, embarrassingly, whining all over the place, twisting your hips to chase your pleasure, causing him to emit the same sounds—causing him to pound you so hard against his closet that he, too, comes in mere minutes. His fingers in your mouth, he’s loud and just as whiny as you, fucking you through his orgasm as you play with digits, sucking on them. 
He doesn’t pull away for a long time. Presses you against his chest and holds you like that, still connected. The vibrator buzzes on the floor, the air is stuffed, but you’re content, the happiest angel, held and stuffed, too. With cum and dick. Heaven on earth. 
Jungkook begins to kiss your neck, marking you there. Fondles your nipples, making you shudder and sigh, making you utter the three words that he deserves. 
“I love you, Ggukie.” 
Jungkook makes a sound that tears you apart. A whimper; the whiniest you ever heard him be. He pulls out of you, but stuffs you again with his fingers. Makes you squirt in record time, kissing you everywhere he can reach. Neck, shoulder, jaw, cheek and lips. 
You must be soaring again in the clouds because you can’t feel your body, especially not when Jungkook says, “I love you, my little squirter.” 
Your knees do give out, after all. Jungkook is quick to pick you up and cradle you in his arms. Wash you clean in the shower. Put on a movie for you while making you food, joining you as soon as he can. 
It’s love you feel—love most profound. And as you eat the food together and finish the wine with drenched Vinny on the other side of the couch, you fall asleep with that love thrumming in your heart. 
You’ll be his for the rest of your life. And he’ll be yours, too. 
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rmsrkive · 1 day
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𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐈 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑? | 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 — 𝐁𝐓𝐒
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summary: in which bts find themselves completely and utterly infatuated with one of the members of hybe’s newest girl group, le sserafim, developing a strange and unhealthy addiction to their junior
warnings: age gap (3-8 year age gap), oc is of consenting and legal age, yandere bts, unhealthy, possessive, and obsessive behavior, violence, idol au
a/n: here is the next oneshot of my strange addiction! i wanted to dedicate the second oneshot to providing a backstory of oc's life before she became an idol and what led her to quit her passion as a gymnast. i DO NOT know much about gymnastics so please forgive me for how vague this entire oneshot seems! if there are any inaccuracies, i apologize in advance and hope you understand. thank you! (also no bangtan in this one)
rating: 18+ (minors dni)
pairings: ot7 x fem reader
word count: 7479
taglist [CLOSED]: @thepixienamednyxie @inlovewithallmusic @afiaaaa19 @minchedchilli @severuslovebot @jjkluver7 @solaany @taekritimin123 @notvantaes @jewishmommy @weeeeeekly @0rubyrose0 @thechillmage @cuntessaiii @earth2joon @huni7857 @yukichan67 @coralmusicblaze @ts-1030 @mochisdayone @devilzliaison @hollyschit @whenthebeatdrop-beatdrop @crushedblackroses @xicanacorpse @blackswan446 @stopeatread @iammeandmeisiam @monysakura @iveivory
taglist note: the taglist for my strange addiction is CLOSED. if you asked to be added to the taglist prior to this oneshot being published but i did NOT add you, please let me know so i can add you right away,
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Gymnastics was the only stability you had in your life.
When you were ten, your parents divorced. Constant fights were between them, often over minuscule subjects that were not worth arguing over. Their marriage had been strained before you were even born but they stayed together once they found out that your mom was pregnant with you. Holding onto a broken marriage for the sake of your surprise baby was an impressive feat but it only meant that they held resentment toward you. To your parents, you were the sole reason why they had yet to divorce. They were both tied down to you because they had to raise you and while they thought they were preventing you from growing up in a broken home, you were actually susceptible to their resentment.
They eventually divorced, leaving you amid a failed marriage. You tried picking up the broken pieces, desperately scrambling around in hopes they would love each other once again. Your attempts were futile and soon enough, you found yourself being exchanged at a random gas station every other weekend.
Not too long after they divorced, both of your parents found a new significant other and before you knew it, you had two additional parents and several step-siblings in your life. It rubbed you the wrong way how quickly they seemed to move on. Granted, they were in a loveless marriage for quite some time but to you, it seemed like they weren't mourning the loss of the family. You loved your step-parents and step-siblings more than anything as they welcomed you into their lives with open arms but sometimes you wished they didn't appear in your life so soon after your parents divorced. The wound of having split parents was too fresh and gaining new family members within a year of the divorce only added more pain.
You had three biological older siblings, two brothers, and one sister. All three of them were significantly older than you and by the time you were old enough to form a proper relationship with them, they were off to college to pursue their own future. Even now years later, you barely had a relationship with them. In your eyes, they were complete strangers with only the bond of a shared bloodline linking all of you. There was never a second thought about any of them.
When you were in elementary and middle school, you missed out on school often for gymnastics competitions around the world. After moving up to the junior level, you found yourself having to skip more and more school days to practice and prepare for all of the competitions you had to partake in. All of the friendships you had eventually dwindled away until you were left with your friends from the gym. Eventually, those friendships became rivalries as you competed against the same girls you once called your best friends.
Being a gymnast was the only constant in your life.
While everybody in your life slowly left you, you continued to pursue your career as a professional gymnast. The losses never swayed you as long as your hard work meant that you would end up with an Olympic title. Your only concern was reaching the goals you set for yourself once you determined in your heart that you would become a professional gymnast, no matter what it took.
But sometimes you wished you held onto your friendships and relationships tighter.
"I have never seen such sloppy technique from you, Y/N." Your coach glowered at you, a murderous glint in her eye. "The Olympics are right around the corner and here you are struggling with even the simplest of elements. Do you think you deserve to go to the Olympics when there are dozens of girls out there who are much better than you?"
You winced at her insult, your face burning in shame as you stared at the ground. Truth be told, you had no excuse as to why your practices weren't the best lately. Having an off day was normal for any athletes but you were having an unacceptable amount. In fact, you had been practicing poorly ever since you were named to be on the Olympic team.
"I'm sorry," You mumbled, looking up at your coach. "I'm trying my best."
"Your best isn't enough anymore, Y/N. If this is considered your best, what are you going to do when you get to Tokyo? Hoping that doing your best will get you an Olympic medal is a joke. You need to snap out of whatever mind block you're stuck in if you want to win a medal."
The pain from sinking your teeth into your bottom lip startled you, the taste of metallic mixing with the sting of your broken skin. Your coach sighed, rubbing her forehead as her gaze on you softened.
"You have a lot of potential, Y/N. I may be biased because you're my student but I know that you can win at least one gold medal in Tokyo. I've seen what you can do and you're miles above every other gymnast who qualified for the Olympics. Even if times are tough now, competing at the biggest competition in the world will be worth it. I promise it'll get better even if it feels like it won't. I believe in you, Y/N and I hope you believe in yourself too."
"Yes, coach." You nodded your head.
"We'll end practice early today. Go home and get some rest."
It was days like these where you wished you had someone to lean on and receive comfort from. Not a single person came to mind as you trudged to the locker room with tears burning your eyes, the stress of making it to the Olympics gradually growing on you. Nowadays, you often wake up with your heart pounding out of your chest and sweat dripping down your face as if you experienced a nightmare because of the stress that was weighing down on you. The second you realized you were awake, a feeling of dread washed over you as you thought about the future that lay ahead. The type of mindset and lifestyle that was overtaking your life was exhausting, to say the least.
Nevertheless, you powered through each and every day because giving up was not an option. You worked far too hard since you were three to quit gymnastics when the Olympics were right around the corner. You couldn't do that to your parents, who had put money and time into ensuring you would have a successful career. You couldn't do that to your older siblings who had their attention ripped away from them so their parents could focus on their youngest child. You couldn't do that to your coach who had spent the past five years pushing you and helping you become a better gymnast even when you were sure that you reached your limit. Too many people sacrificed a part of themselves for you to become one of the top gymnasts in the world; if you quit now, it would be a slap in the face to them.
How could you do that to the people you loved?
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Y/N Y/L/N: The Gold Medal Favorite for the 2020 Tokyo Olympics
As the 2020 Tokyo Olympics is just around the corner, there are several names to look out for; Naomi Osaka, Simone Biles, Katie Ledecky, Allyson Felix, yet there is one athlete who has made a name for herself over the past four years: Y/N Y/L/N.
From the Republic of Korea, Y/L/N has made quite a name for herself in gymnastics. Her specialty is floor and she has blown the world away with her routines over the past few seasons. She has displayed extraordinary skills and tricks in her routines throughout the past few years. With several national and international titles, Y/L/N has become one of the favorites for an Olympic gold medal.
Hundreds of thousands of fans from around the world are said to be tuning into the Olympics to see her compete. She is currently one of South Korea's most famous athletes, being recognized among figure skating Olympic champion Kim Yuna and the legendary Son Heungmin. If Y/L/N wins an Olympic title in Tokyo this summer, she will be added to the Korean Sports Hall of Fame.
"Wow, the media is trying hard to push the Olympic champion agenda onto you." Yuri made a face, glad that she wasn't the one constantly in the spotlight. "This would make me want to kill myself."
"You're telling me." You mumbled.
Yuri liked to FaceTime you out of the blue despite being on the other side of the world. Ever since she started attending university, she found herself with more free time since she was no longer studying for the college entrance exam. Your step-sister was naturally a sociable person so you knew it killed her inside to dial down her social life once she began high school. You barely had any contact with her for the four years she was studying but now that she made it into South Korea's top university, all of her stress disappeared.
"What if you just quit gymnastics?" Yunchan wondered.
Yunchan was Yuri's older brother and he also was accepted to Seoul National University. You didn't expect any less from them as they had been extremely intelligent since you met them but having them attend the same university meant that they could bother you even more. As much as you loved your step-siblings, they annoyed you whenever they decided to bother you at random hours of the day.
"I've been thinking about it." You grumbled. "Don't give me ideas."
"What!?"
It was the first time saying out loud that you were thinking about quitting gymnastics. Every athlete at some point thought about quitting their beloved sport and even if they said it out loud, it was mostly an empty threat. You, on the other hand, were getting closer and closer to retiring each day. The toll that the wretched sport was taking on your mental and physical health was becoming gradually worse. As you progressed further in your career, more expectations were weighed down on your shoulders; you felt as if you couldn't make even the tiniest mistake without being berated. Ever since you began winning more competitions, it seemed as if the world was expecting perfection from you. You heard it from your coach and you heard it from the media and fans as well. While you didn't go out of your way to read articles and social media posts about you, some things did pop up on your feed which typically consisted of very opinionated comments.
On top of waking up with a start every morning, you were struggling to fall asleep. With the stress of a big competition around the corner, you found yourself unable to sleep with the tension and nerves weighing down on you. Melatonin helped for a little bit but eventually was no help. Every piece of advice provided by medical professionals and random strangers on the Internet was of no avail as well.
"Level with us, Y/Nie." Yunchan interrupted your train of thought. He noticed your troubled expression and mirrored it, worried that you were silently struggling and had been for a really long time. "You know we won't judge you and we're always here for you." Yuri nodded her head rapidly in agreement to show her support.
You pursed your lips together. "I don't like being a gymnast anymore. I think it's time for me to retire."
"Retire?" Yuri questioned incredulously. "You just turned 21. What do you mean it's time for you to retire?"
You couldn't help but smile at her remark, amused that she was assuming you were talking about retirement due to your age. "Not because I think I'm old, I'm just not happy being a gymnast. It's all I've been my entire life and I want to explore past that."
"That's true, you've definitely been tied down to gymnastics once people began to realize that you're very talented." Yunchan mused.
When he was younger, he heard his mom talking often about a girl named Y/N who was an incredible gymnast. You were a prodigy, somebody who was going to make it big in not only the world of gymnastics but in the world of athletes as well. He heard your name constantly until he met you one random day, being introduced to each other as step-siblings. Yunchan felt like he knew you inside and out before he even met you because of how much your dad talked about you.
"I guess I've been feeling unmotivated since the pandemic started," You confessed. "Having to train alone was exhausting; I was lucky that I had access to the gym but gymnastics became boring after not competing for so long and it still feels that way sometimes. Not only that, the media talks about how I'm the favorite for an Olympic gold medal and the way I'm being compared to Kim Yuna and Son Heungmin—the Kim Yuna and Son Heungmin mind you—is getting to me and the pressure has been stressing me out. The more expectations weighed down on me, the more I resent gymnastics. And now I don't want to compete anymore."
"Oh, unnie."
Yuri and Yunchan frowned, pitifully staring at you through the screen. You mustered a small smile, trying to hold back the tears that formed in your eyes out of frustration. You felt like a weight was somewhat lifted off of your shoulders after rambling to them but you had a lot more baggage to unpack. Confiding in somebody about the problems you had was the first step; acting upon them in a way that you would be happy with the end result was the final goal and quite frankly, it seemed as if you weren't going to reach it anytime soon.
"I don't know what to do anymore." You whispered, staring at your calloused hands that reflected the years of hardships endured from being a gymnast. "Don't get me wrong, I'm extremely grateful that my parents put in years of hard work and sacrifice so that I could be where I am today but why should I compete at the Olympics if I'm not happy anymore? There are so many gymnasts who didn't qualify for the Olympics that deserve my spot more than me. I guess I just feel bad about the entire situation."
"You deserve that position more than anyone, Y/Nie. It may be hard to believe but you know that you worked hard and sacrificed everything to make it where you are today. Sure, you may think that someone else is more deserving of your spot just because you don't want to be a gymnast anymore but that doesn't necessarily mean somebody should take your spot." Yuri said.
Yunchan nodded his head. "If you want to retire after the Olympics, then that's fine. I'm sure other athletes are in the same situation as you so there is nothing to feel bad about. It's okay to outgrow and move on from gymnastics because being a gymnast has been your identity for most of your life. You have the right to move beyond that and find something else that makes you happy." He added.
Your step-siblings were the youngest on both sides of your family yet they were wise beyond their years. You began to confide in them more as all three of you grew older and they never failed to provide you with comfort and advice. While your older siblings left you behind to start their own lives, Yuri and Yunchan immediately took their place. You were grateful that they were able to give you the relationship you always wanted with your older siblings but at the same time, you felt guilty for never making an effort to become closer to them
"Thanks, guys, I appreciate both of you so much." You sighed. "Even when we're on opposite sides of the world I can rely on you guys always. Where would I be without the two of the most important people in my life?"
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One downside of the Olympics being held in Tokyo was having to travel to the other side of the world. You were lucky to have booked a non-stop flight that allowed you to reach Japan in twelve hours but the total travel time including getting through security and trying to get to your hotel was well over twelve hours. You collapsed on your bed the moment you walked into your hotel room, eager to take a nap before dinner.
Your first practice was in two days and it was an unofficial practice. Your coach managed to squeeze in practice for you and the other Korean gymnasts to get a feel of what the gym was like. There was nothing worse than stepping into a competition without adjusting to the new environment; any extra practices made all the difference in how you and your teammates performed.
You turned onto your back and grabbed your phone from your pocket, pulling up YouTube to watch the latest episodes of Going Seventeen that you missed. You barely had any free time to indulge in your favorite K-pop group because you were too busy practicing. Now that you had free time until the next day, you were prepared to spend every second catching up on Seventeen content you missed.
"Y/N, open the door!"
With a groan, you rolled off of your bed and trudged over to the door. You swung the door open to see your teammates standing on the other side, displeased with how they interrupted your free time. They were all dressed up, looking much more put together than they did when you arrived in Tokyo. Yunseo and Seojeong looked at you up and down, unimpressed how your outfit still consisted of the hoodie and sweats you wore on the plane. Haksoen, Hansol, Junho, Jeahwan, and Sunghyun weren't amused by the situation either.
"Why aren't you dressed, unnie?" Yunseo was miffed.
"What do you mean why aren't I dressed?" You furrowed your eyebrows before looking down at the clothes you were wearing. "I'm not going anywhere."
"I told you she didn't read our messages." Hansol piped up.
You grabbed your phone off of your bed and swiped down on your notifications coming to find that your teammates discussed going out for dinner to explore Tokyo. Admittedly, you muted the group chat and put your phone on Do Not Disturb after their countless messages interrupted Don't Lie III. How could you watch in peace when their messages were bombarding you?
"Sorry." You sheepishly rubbed the back of your neck. "I was watching Going Seventeen."
"I knew that was the reason why she wasn't responding." Sunghyun rolled his eyes. "If she's too busy to answer us it's because she's looking at other men."
Seojeong wagged her finger at him disapprovingly. "Don't be jealous, Sunghyun."
This time it was you who rolled your eyes. You made a show of closing the door on them but they all protested, filing inside one by one and settling into your room.
"We'll wait while you get ready, unnie." Yunseo smiled sweetly. "Just don't take too long or else Junho oppa might bite your head off."
"Hey, uncalled for." Junho frowned.
You hastily grabbed a random outfit from your suitcase before ducking away into the bathroom to freshen up. Quite honestly, you didn't want to go out but also knew you had limited time to explore Tokyo. It was clear that Yunseo and Seojeong had an itinerary for your time in Tokyo because they immediately dragged the rest of the team to a restaurant that had a table prepared for all of you.
After eating a filling dinner of ramen and udon, the younger girls led the group to a shopping center. Yunseo linked arms with you, giggling as she pulled you down the bustling sidewalk away from everybody else. She sensed your dampened mood when she walked into your hotel room and was worried about your mental state declining right before the Olympics. Although she didn't train with you, Yunseo could tell you were silently battling an inner conflict.
"How are you, unnie?" She asked, deciding it was better to be straightforward rather than beat around the bush. "I feel like we haven't spoken much since we got here."
"I flew in this morning, Yunseo." You smiled amusedly.
"Exactly." The younger girl cleared her throat before turning to you with a serious expression. "Are you okay, unnie? You've been really quiet and seem kind of down. I wanted to make sure you're fine."
You were touched that Yunseo was making an effort to reach out to you but were also worried that you were being too obvious about your struggles. "I'm fine. Just stressed about competing." A simple yet honest answer would surely suffice.
Yunseo raised her eyebrows, unconvinced by your answer. Your constant slumped shoulders and downcast eyes were a clear indication that you weren't feeling well both physically and mentally. Nevertheless, she dropped the topic, opting to respect your answer rather than prying for more information. "That's valid. This might not mean much to you but I know you're gonna do amazing like always. You've never placed off the podium since you moved up to the senior level and you're only getting better from here. If there's anybody on our team who's gonna walk away with an Olympic medal, it's you."
"Thanks, Yunnie. I really appreciate that you're looking out for me even if you're stressed about your events." You smiled.
She paused in the middle of the sidewalk, wrapping her arms around your torso before pulling you into a tight hug. "I'm proud of you for making it this far, unnie."
The rest of the group stopped in front of you, confused as to why the two of you were sharing a sentimental moment in the streets of Tokyo. They glanced at one another before continuing to walk past, only having eyes for the luxury stores lined up one after another.
Yunseo pulled away before cupping your face with her hands. "You'll do great. Remember: you're a gold medal favorite. You're going to walk away with an Olympic medal."
'You're a gold medal favorite. You have to walk away with an Olympic medal.'
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You jolted awake, immediately pushing yourself upright. Your head whipped back and forth as you tried to make sense of where you were and why you weren't in your own bedroom. After a few seconds, you came to the realization that you were in the Olympic Village. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you calmed yourself down, checking the time on your phone. It was seven in the morning and you had a few hours until your final practice before the all-around individual event. A sense of dread flooded you as you thought about how your first Olympics competition was right around the corner. Despite having an empty stomach, you were quite nauseous and felt the need to throw up.
The past week in Tokyo had been miserable, to say the least. Your practices hadn't been the greatest and your coaches were getting frustrated with you. The days leading up to the Olympics had been filled with failed routines and they assumed you would be fine once you landed in Tokyo. Their assumptions were wrong, however, and you found yourself struggling to make it through a clean routine. Your hopes of getting an Olympic medal seemed to be getting slimmer and slimmer. Despite your constant mistakes, your coaches still had hope that you would end up somewhere on the podium. After all, you had never placed lower than third in any competition since you moved up to the senior level.
You had a quiet morning to yourself as you got ready for the day, which only made your nerves worse. Hundreds of thoughts and scenarios flew through your mind, countless 'what ifs?' taunting you. At breakfast, the only thing you could do was stare at your food and play around with it while your teammates happily conversed amongst one another, seemingly unbothered by the tense situation all of you were in. They spared worried glances at you, taking turns to urge you to eat and ask if you were okay. You ate a quarter of your breakfast before scurrying off to practice, avoiding the concerned glances of your teammates.
Fortunately, your body and mind cooperated with you enough to have a decent last practice. It certainly wasn't the best practice of your career but you felt significantly better than you had for the past few months. At this point, any feeling of positivity was enough to get you through the games and you were desperate enough to hold onto any optimism you could.
"Representing the Republic of Korea, Y/N, Y/L/N!"
To say you were intimidated to perform on the uneven bars after Suni Lee was an understatement. Everybody in the gymnastics community knew Suni Lee and everybody also knew that uneven bars were her strong suit. She was currently one of the best, if not the best gymnasts on uneven bars, and you were given the misfortune of competing right after her. It didn't help that uneven bars were not your forte whatsoever.
You took a deep breath, trying to calm your wildly pounding heart. You stared up at the high bar above you, taunted by a simple wooden rod that you had learned to use years ago. Your uneven bars routine was something you perfected long ago yet you were still terrified. Before you could second guess yourself, you launched yourself up to the high bar with the vault, performing your routine on complete autopilot mode.
The strength it took for uneven bars was unbelievable. Trying to build your muscles to be able to rotate your body 360 degrees and throw yourself between both bars was excruciating. Your hands were covered in callouses from your hands constantly dragging across the wooden surface, a symbol of the hard work you put in for the past seventeen years. Your combinations weren't as impressive as Suni's but it was enough to put your score on par with hers. You landed on the ground perfectly, putting your hands up with a smile to indicate the end of your performance.
"Wonderful job, Y/N. That was fantastic." Your coach gave you a high-five.
You were halfway through the all-around event, with beam and floor remaining. You specialized in beam for half of your career before you came to the sudden realization that floor routines were much more exciting. Having your strongest routines during the latter half of the event allowed you to make up for any points you may have lost during vault and uneven bars.
Throughout the entirety of the event, you were competing head-to-head with Suni and Rebeca Andrade. Going into the Olympics, you knew they would be your top competition but severely underestimated their skills. You assumed at least one of the events would be their weakness but they were perfecting every one of their routines.
"This is where you have to do the best, Y/N. If you score well on your floor routine, you can place first overall because you have an advantage in your technical skills. Whether or not you leave with an Olympic title depends on your performance." Your coach squeezed your shoulders.
All she got in return was a tight smile. If there was one thing your coach was good at other than helping you improve your gymnastics skills, it was giving you advice and words of encouragement that made you feel worse than when you started. You simply gave her a nod before moving to the corner of the spring floor where you would begin your performance. Yunseo and Seojeong were dispersed on opposite corners of the floor as they insisted you needed full support on all sides. After your name was announced, you took your place on the mat with a faux smile while waiting for the music to start.
Your first skill was a Dos Santos II, which was something you had been practicing for two years. It was by far the most difficult technique you had learned and your coach was extremely hesitant in allowing you to add it to your floor routine, let alone allow you to learn it. Daiane Dos Santos was the only gymnast who had landed it in a competition and there was a reason for that. Regardless, you begged your coach to practice it and had been attempting it in the past two competitions. They had yet to be landed cleanly but you did execute the skill perfectly during countless practices. If you weren't confident in landing it in competition, you wouldn't have wanted to attempt it at the Olympics.
A Dos Santos II consisted of an Arabian double salto in a stretched position with a level H rating. Simply landing this skill would put your technical score miles ahead of your competitors and could even guarantee an Olympic title. You knew you wouldn't be happy with yourself if you left Tokyo without at least attempting it. Since it was your opening skill, you didn't have much time to mentally prepare for it. The most you could do was take deep breaths and focus on the music to keep you on time.
The Dos Santos II was over before you could process it. By the time you launched yourself into the air, you were already back on your feet ready to move onto the next part of your routine. Everything happened so quickly that you couldn't celebrate landing one of the most difficult moves in gymnastics. You could vaguely hear your coach and teammates scream in the background but their voices were muffled. The rest of your routine was filled with skills you could complete in your sleep, which left you in your ending posing before you knew it.
With a heavy sigh, your shoulders immediately slackened as you dropped your ending pose. You bowed to the audience before hopping off of the springboard where your coach and teammates were waiting.
"That was amazing, Y/N! That Dos Santos was beautiful, it was the best you ever landed it." Your coach beamed.
"I can't believe I actually landed it." You grinned, happiness overtaking you for the first time since the competition began. "It happened so quickly and it doesn't even feel like I attempted it."
Seojeong and Yunseo pulled you into a hug, forcing you to jump up and down with them. They each squealed unintelligible exclamations in your ear, rambling about the Dos Santos II and how well you performed.
"Great job, Y/Nie." Hanseok patted your head. "You have a big chance at winning gold!"
His words caused you to freeze for a split second. You whipped your head toward the screen that was displaying the current rankings before you performed. You waited with bated breath as the judges calculated your final score, taking their time as it was the final performance of the night. A slow-motion playback of your routine was on the jumbo screen and while you may sound cocky, surely you were going to score the highest with how well you performed.
"The scores please for Y/N Y/L/N."
Yunseo squealed and clung onto your shoulders with a death grip. "Oh, I'm so scared and I'm not even the one who performed."
You needed to score higher than 13.7 points to place first to make up for the points you didn't acquire during vault and uneven bars. Suni was sitting comfortably in first place with a higher chance of winning the Olympic title but your Dos Santos II was close to leaving her in second place. You were relying on your technical score to push you into first place.
"Y/N Y/L/N has received a score of 13.933 points."
It certainly wasn't your highest score but it was enough to put you in first place. The jumbo screen flashed the final ranking up on the screen with your name at the very top.
A breath you didn't know you were holding escaped from your lips as your score popped up on the screen. You scored well enough on your floor routine to put you into first place; you were returning to Korea with an Olympic medal. All of the stress that had been burdening you finally disappeared and for the first time in months, you felt like you could breathe.
"Fantastic job, Y/N! You did wonderful!" Your coach patted your shoulder and gave you a tight hug.
Your teammates came running over, tackling you into a hug that left all of you in a pile of limbs. You were at the bottom of the pile, trying to hug them back while simultaneously struggling to breathe. Jeahwan, bless his heart, took notice of you turning purple and immediately pulled your teammates off of you.
A giggle escaped your lips at your excitement as they yanked you off the ground only to pull you into another hug. The pressure you felt throughout the season slowly dissipated, leaving you in a state of bliss.
Until the individual floor event, at least.
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"I think I'm gonna throw up." You mumbled, unable to suppress the nausea that was overtaking you.
Yunseo's eyes widened in alarm. "Do you need a bucket?"
"No, I'm just dramatic."
Your teammates rolled their eyes before Junho smacked the back of your head. "You need to get therapy for this, I'm so serious." He scolded.
The situation at hand felt all too familiar. You couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that you were competing again as a finalist for the floor event. There were only eight gymnasts who qualified for the final round and you placed first in the qualification round a little over a week prior. You were the last gymnast to compete in the event which left you in a puddle of nerves by the time you were warming up and preparing to perform.
Your floor routine was similar to the one you performed during the all-around individual event but your opening combination was different. You had a new skill you had been practicing for the past three years and worked hard to perfect it so you could perform it at the Olympics. You hoped it would be recognized as a new skill and be added to the Code of Points after the Olympics were over. Alongside of dreaming to be an Olympian, you also dreamed of having an official skill named after you.
"You have to lock in immediately, Y/N. Don't let your surroundings distract you or hinder you from putting on your best performance. If you land your opening skill and perform cleanly, you'll end up in first place. I guarantee it." Your coach squeezed your shoulders.
"Don't let us down, Y/N."
Quite honestly, you had been doing a good job pushing away the pressure that loomed over you since you arrived in Tokyo. After the medal ceremony for the all-around event, the initial nerves and pressure you felt disappeared since you got into the swing of things. You were even looking forward to competing but your coach's words sent you spiraling and now you were back to square one.
What did she mean by "us"? Your entire coaching team? Your teammates? Your home country was watching you in anticipation as you prepared to perform on the biggest stage in the world? She could be talking about anybody and everybody and the mere thought made you sick.
With no time to contemplate her words, you forced yourself to walk out onto the floor with a smile on your face. You waved to the audience, who seemed to be cheering louder than ever.
"Representing the Republic of Korea, Y/N Y/L/N."
You positioned yourself in the same corner you always began your routine in and took a final deep breath before waiting for your music to start. Just like always, your body went on autopilot mode as you prepared for your new skill.
You could hear your teammates and coaches screaming as you launched yourself into the air, flipping and turning before landing heavily on your feet with a loud thud. Your arms went up as you straightened yourself out, the opening skill being landed cleanly. You cruised through the rest of the performance with ease, nailing every single skill that was left as they were all ones you were familiar with.
Once you held your ending pose for a few seconds, your body dropped to the ground as your head fell into your hands. You tried to process what happened, unable to believe you cleanly landed a skill nobody else had landed, and performed the rest of your routine flawlessly. You pushed your exhausted body off of the springboard and stood up to acknowledge the audience before joining your coach and teammates.
"Holy shit, Y/N! That was absolutely insane." Sunghyun swept you off of the ground before your feet could even touch the ground from the spring board, spinning you around in a tight hug.
"Put her down, you big oaf." Seojeong smacked his beefy arm. "She just threw herself around in the air and your first instinct is to spin her around? She's going to throw up on you.
Sunghyun listened to his junior and immediately placed you on the ground with a ruffle of your hair. The rest of your teammates surrounded you, taking turns to congratulate you and gushing endlessly about your performance. Your coach barely praised you before the speakers were crackling back to life for your final score.
"Y/N Y/L/N has earned a total score of 15.566."
It wasn't the best score seen at the Olympics but it was much higher than your own personal record. Your mouth fell open as the numbers flashed onto the jumbo screen, unable to believe what your eyes were reading. Your vision was obscured by a body throwing itself against you as you were pulled into a hug for the umpteenth time. You lost count of how many times you were squeezed in a hug but knowing you had a wonderful support system warmed your heart. The past few weeks in Tokyo had been nothing short of grueling so you were thankful that your teammates did whatever they could to support you despite having to focus on their own events.
There was a half-hour break before the medal ceremony and every single second was filled with interviews and photos. You never had so many cameras and microphones shoved into your face in your entire life which made winning an Olympic title more overwhelming. You couldn't process what was happening but the more questions you were asked about how you felt, the bigger the pit in your stomach became.
Before you knew it, you were preparing for the medal ceremony. As the lights in the stadium dimmed, a familiar sense of dread washed over you. You gulped nervously and fiddled around with your fingers while watching members of the Olympic committee set up for the ceremony. You felt the same sickness in your stomach during the medal ceremony for the all-around individual event but chalked it off as being exhausted from practicing extensively. You hoped you would be excited for the floor medal ceremony since you won a medal for your specialty but you were feeling even worse than you did a week ago.
"And the Olympic gold medalist from the Republic of Korea, Y/N Y/L/N!"
Straightening your back with a deep breath, a smile forced its way onto your face as you waved to the cheering crowd. Before you stepped onto the podium, you bowed to the audience and hugged Jade Carey and Rebecca Ferrari, who were the silver and bronze medalists.
You nervously eyed the president of the International Gymnastics Federation as she walked over to you with a big smile on your face. She shook your head before placing the gold medal around your neck, congratulating you for your stellar performance. It felt wrong to accept the medal from her when all you wanted to do was rip it off of your neck and give it to Jade instead.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the 2020 Olympic floor medalists!"
The sight of the Korean flag being raised amidst the American and Italian flags was a sight you never thought you would dread to see. Winning an Olympic title was your dream but at one point did it stop? When did you start hating the sport you dedicated your entire life to?
As you stood on the podium with your hand on your chest as the Korean national anthem heard distantly in your ears, you realized that gymnastics was no longer your passion. The gold medal hanging around your neck felt heavy and it felt as if it tied you to a stone to leave you dropping into the middle of the ocean. Your ears were ringing and your head was spinning, your heart started to beat faster from the overwhelming sensation of being in an undeserving position.
Who were you to claim the Olympic gold medal when you no longer cared for gymnastics? The girls next to you worked equally as hard, perhaps even harder to become an Olympic champion and here you were, preparing to draft your retirement statement rather after returning home. You spent almost the entirety of your life working to make it to the Olympics but with the Olympic title finally in the palm of your hand, you felt nothing short of empty.
Even as you were hugged by your teammates and coaches after the Olympic medal ceremony, you felt empty. A fake smile was pasted on your face during every interview and press conference to hide your conflicted feelings. What would the public say if there was even the slightest hint of displeasure on your face? You would be painted as an ungrateful, undeserving Olympic champion; the last thing you needed was your name dragged through the mud. Millions of people in South Korea rooted, supported, and cheered for you ever since you began to make a name for yourself within the last few years. You were obligated to show your appreciation even if it ate away at you inside.
"You're an Olympic champion again, unnie!" Seojeong squealed, holding your hands as she jumped up and down.
You jumped up and down with her, trying to share her excitement as she rambled about how the two of you would be going home with Olympic medals, a life long dream finally accomplished.
"I'm so happy!" You smiled, squeezing her hands gently. "And I'm so proud of you, Seojeongie. You did amazing."
She smiled, pouting before pulling you into a hug. "I'm proud of you too, unnie. So proud. I know the past couple of years haven't been easy on you but you did amazing. I'm happy and honored that I get to call you my teammate."
Your coach gave you a hug next, swaying you from side to side as she held you tightly. She then pulled away, smiling tearfully at you which shocked you. In the six years you had been training with her, she never once shed a single tear. You didn't know she was capable of showing any emotion beyond stoicism but she had been shocking you constantly since arriving in Tokyo.
"Coach, are you crying?" A bewildered expression broke out on your face as your coach let out a sob.
"Oh my Y/Nie, I can't believe you're a two-time Olympic champion." She wiped the tears off of her face, fanning her face to compose herself. "I know the past few years have been extremely difficult for you but you've done well. I'm so proud of you and there's nobody more deserving to win that title than you."
Guilt once again overtook you, seizing you by the neck with a tight grip. You exhaled deeply in a poor attempt to get your feelings back in check, worried that she would notice your distressed state. You hugged her back with a laugh to mask how you were truly feeling about your Olympic title.
The endless praises and congratulations were only making you feel worse about the entire situation. You weren't sure what was wrong with you and you absolutely hated how you felt but you couldn't shake off the guilt that came with the medal. It felt heavier and heavier by the second.
You were able to walk away from the Olympics with two gold medals but at what cost?
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equinelifecountry · 3 days
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Drowning
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Warning: depression, suicidal thoughts and actions, anxiety. torcher, blood (If missed anything lmk) Description: realizing that she was never enough for him and deciding the world might just be better without her in it
part 2
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The clashing of metal singings throughout the top of the mountains being carried off with the wind. Sweat beads on my brow my labor breath is becoming louder by the passing minute I lift my sword again towards the right missing the target that was Infront of me the big Illyrian, the general of the powerful Night Court armies the smirk forming on his makes me want to slap it right off. "Oh, come on y/n I know you're better than that." he swiftly movies and swings his blade at me I dodged it just in time dropping down to the ground swing my legs and knocking him off his feet flat on his back I jumped up and just my foot on his chest with pressure and pointing the blade of my sword at his throat "Yes I know I am." I smirk matching his that claimed his face just moments ago.
It has been just over 3 years since the war against the King of Hybern I just shortly after the war was won so much has changed with my found family and with the new additions to the family the Archeron sister, bless the mother for bringing us Feyre bringing her to Rhysand. I am beyond happy that he has found his mate, his other half that makes him whole. I see from the beginning that day we went to their mansion to ask to host the mortal queens to talk that the tension with Cassian and Nesta was going to lead to something more those two were cut from the same cloth what more than the perfect match the Lord of Bloodshed and Lady Death herself. I can't forget about sweet Elain, the way that Azriel looked at her like she was the reason for him to breath and her deep brown eyes seem to lighten looking up at him, it was kind of cliche in a way the darkness and the lightness meets and blends so well together.
I remember when Azriel went into the middle of the enemies camp to rescue Elain even though he could of easily of been killed and that day before the last battle he gave her truth teller. I sat stood across the way putting on my leather and armor when I caught the seen unfold something cracked in my chest, since the day that Nesta and Elain was thrown into the cauldron Azriel always kept a close eye and helping hand to Elain, I could tell from the way he looked at her that it was much more than just being a good friend helping our High Lady's sister adjust to High Fae life he was falling for her, first it was Mor he was pinned over her for the longest time that never seen to bothered me to much. Mor confined in me about her love for other women so I knew nothing was ever going to help between her and Azriel but that still never eased the hurt I felt the way he looked and acted with her. I don't know why I thought there was ever going to be a chance of me and Azriel becoming something more all he sees is the poor broken female hung between those trees deep in the cold forest bleeding pouring form the wounds on her back forming a pool of blood under her feet.
I shook my head trying to shake the memories away grinning again I held out my hand to Cassian he reached up and I helped him back up on his feet. "oh its good to have you back y/n!" he slung and arm around my shoulders and we made our way back down the stairs towards the dinning room. "You never leave us like that again, got it?" I side eyed him "I just needed some space Cass." I signed "To many things happened during the war and everything else going on it was just to much mentally..." Cassian stopped and turned me to face him he had a worried look on his face "I know you do not like to talk about things much but I hope you know that you have me.. you have all of us if you need someone to talk to about thing.." he paused and put a hand on my forearm "I mean it." I just looked at him gave him a small smile and nodded he just did the same.
We walked in silence the rest of the way to the dining room has we walked through the doors a glanced up at the large table sat in the middle of the room there he was and so with everyone else, i mean everyone. Cassian made is way over to Nesta and planted a kiss on her forehead and sat down I stayed in the doorway just staring at everyone. "Come join us y/n." I shifted my eyes toward Rhysand who was looking at me with is smirk he always seems to wear. "It has been far too long since we had everyone for a family dinner." I swallowed hard and blinked everyone now was staring at me waiting for me to come and sit was them or just waiting for a reply. I avoided looking in the direction and the shadow singer and the lovely flower that stay by him I turned and locked my eyes with Rhys "I'm sorry but I think I'm going to have to pass tonight, I am just far too exhausted" he gave me a worried look the same has Cassian did in the hall I felt him trying to break through my mental walls I just shut him out and gave a weak smile and turned to head back up to my room feeling a heavy stare on my back that sent shivers running down my spine.
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myechoecho · 17 hours
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Queen of Tears really just took a sharp nosedive off a very steep cliff these past 3 episodes. I didn't post anything about the last two episodes since there was nothing to say. I've had issues with some aspects of the drama that I could overlook because Hae In and Hyun Woo were top tier stuff. The break down of a marriage of two people who loved one another finding their way back to each other through medical crisis was so good. It didn't even need the Eun Sung or the family business stuff (it would have made a tighter, more coherent drama but I digress). But the last 3 or so episodes I've lost all patience. We've had:
Hae In's miraculous brain surgery which required no shaving of the hair, which I can overlook because it is a drama. Her memory loss too, as again, it's a drama and it's been hinted at since the beginning. I'm not necessarily thrilled with it but it's fine.
There is no way that Eun Sung would have suddenly become her legal guardian just because Hyun Woo left. It makes NO SENSE. Hae In was clearly there with Hyun Woo. They met with her doctors. There would have been forms and documents signed, with appropriate translators for any language barriers. Eun Sung would not have been able to waltz in and say I am her guardian now. I'm fairly confident of this even without knowing German law.
Hae In's family had people in Germany following her for...reasons??? They did nothing to protect her from Eun Sung? They didn't go to her when Hyun Woo was carted off? To be fair I was kinda fast forwarding part so maybe I missed something.
Hyun Woo's arrest, extradition back to South Korea, finding the evidence to break his case, trail, release and then arrest of the real perpetrator all took place within a month. Which seems absurdly fast. Also they found and arrested the hired hit man but not who hired him??
Hae In is following Hyun Woo, taking notes to figure stuff out for herself yet does not think to look herself up on the internet? Pretty sure there would have been articles about her saying Eun Sung threatened her?
I generally forgive the burned notebook finding its way back to her.
Also, Hyun Woo's sister is married? With a kid? Living overseas?? and we find this out in ep 13 or 14? No pictures of her kid anywhere?? No phone call?
Hyun Woon has been hit by car, by Eun Sung because of course that happened. At least he won't get amnesia, right? RIGHT?
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What a mess.
I still stand by the core story of Hyun Woo and Hae In being the strongest parts, even within the past 3 episodes.
How much do you want to bet they are not even going to address the miscarriage, which was catalyst for their whole marriage falling apart in the final episode. Despite the 1031 being used for pass codes. I've been wanting that from when we found out and it looks like it won't happen. Who knows if Hae In will even get her memory back.
The preview for the final episode doesn't give me much hope, even if we get a nearly 2 hr final episode like Crash Landing on You.
So much wasted potential in the drama. If only they had focused on Hae In and Hyun Woo, and not 20+ other plots.
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hugs4neth-backup · 13 hours
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update:
(if this cuts off suddenly, its cause my mom walked in. better to give yall something than nothing) some of this information wont be relevant to everyone but im tagging my irl friend that needs it for reasons ill explain below
if you are poet, read all of this please its very important. anyone else feel free to skip its pretty distressing lol.
reblog if you can so the other moots see this. (also so they can find this account, only 19 of yall have found it and should be over a hundred)
tw for parental abuse and self harm
we're still lying low. i cant afford to get caught on tumblr rn
love yall so much, im glad so many people have found this blog
my mom is fucking pissed. ive lost my phone completely, and i might be losing the ipad too. im hoping that because i use the ipad for school she wont take that. my computer is safe for now, she doesnt know the password and knows that people would ask questions if she took it
my texts have been comprimised. im not allowed to text anymore, and shes reading everything. already got texting from my ipad once, fortunatly i dont think that she knows it was from my ipad so she hasnt taken it (yet)
poet we need to figure out a way to comunicate from my computer that isnt tumblr.
my mental state is stable-ish currently, but it wasnt 2 hours ago.
she has threatened physical abuse.
she has also said "I wish i had the luxury of kicking you out"
due to number 8, im working on a go bag.
the only sh ive done so far is head banging, which is bad but not the worst form. i think i left a bruise tho. no signs of brain damage
i got my grades back and theyre all pretty high, so im not in trouble for that. but i think she is pissed that im doing my work in school and not at home? idfk
she promised thursday to put me back in therapy. she has taken that back
apparently the reason she thinks im not disabled is because she thinks im faking all these injurys. her reasoning for this is "last time we saw [dr name] he said that nothing was wrong" (he said that there was nothing wrong other than the previously diagnosed severe generalized hypermobility syndrome) i think its fucking hysterical that she thinks i would fake not being able to do fucking anything because of my pain
i did absoluletly have a full full full mental breakdown from about 10:30 this morning to about 3:45 in the afternoon
if i get anymore "injuries out of nowhere" shes gonna cancel all my summer plans. (translation: no medical care for the rest of the year)
@poettheythem
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wordfather · 4 months
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save me stories where love was the answer all along..... stories where love was the answer all along save me.....
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hella1975 · 2 years
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look at these mf platters my cousin(28) made, me and my sister keep eating them and the party isnt even meant to start for another hour - we also keep playing drinking games, but thats just what happens when youre always the first ones ready i think
(capt)
HOW AM I JUST SEEING THIS THAT LOOKS INSANE INVITE ME NEXT TIME
#omw to australia as we speak#your cousin is talented that literally looks delicious i would not leave that table if i saw that at a party#my family parties are really funny bc for starters ive only been to one (1) family party on my dad's side#and it wasnt really a party bc it was day time and also it was awkward as all anything#bc it was me and my sister in this random irish village surrounded by strangers who hate our mother lmfao#BUT as much as i slate my immediate extended family (does that even make sense? i just mean my grandparents) on my mum's side#her family's parties are so fucking fun#bc both sides of my family are GINORMOUS like i think my mum worked out i have over 400 cousins total lmfao#but my dad's side are spread out between tipperary and london so it's less intense#whereas my mum's side literally ALL live in my hometown like none of them moved from within the same ten mile radius#it was one of the reasons i hated my hometown so much bc i couldnt do anything without my cousins's friend's plumber's dog telling my mum#but anyway i digress my actual family not including my close relatives are so so lovely#and the parties were hilarious we always had a xmas party at the same pub and it was such a vibe#and i have multiple cousins in my year group (i was had form with one like my cousins are just everywhere)#(he came up to me in year 7 and went 'hi i think im your cousin' and i went 'that checks out' and that was that)#so we'd just spend the whole time on one table bitching about people in our year#this got ranty but yeah <3 family parties are such a specific vibe but i rate it <3#hope you had fun! sorry i didnt see this ask when u sent it im useless#ask
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silkythewriter · 3 months
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Vox and alastor with an undeserving to be in hell reader!
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Warnings!:non!
Fandom!: Hazbin hotel!
Author note!;I THINK TUMBLER ACTUALLY HATES ME (メ﹏メ)(。•́︿•̀。)it keeps not letting me edit my drafts, it’s happened like 3 times already this week alone!,…BUT ANYWAY I LOVE THIS IDEA I REALLY HOPE YOY ENJOY!!!!♡´・ᴗ・`♡
Summary!: alastor and Vox x reader WHOs I. Hell for a minor sin/crime
❤️Written by silkythewriter do not steal or repost any other platform please! <3❤️
ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ
“Each time I find myself
Flat on my face
I pick myself up and get back in the race!”
ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ
!📺✨Vox✨📺!
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When you first admitted what you did that counted as a “sin” he was flabbergasted! He thought they must’ve made a mistake. All be it one that was in favor since he got to be damned with you. But still!
Out of every monster known to man kind one who’ve committed acts that are despicable. You, one who can barely hurt a damn fly get sent with them?
At first he thought you were genuinely just joking. And he actually laughed! Like audible chuckled before waiting for the actual reason, which never came, and he soon realized you were being serious!
He always questioned why you use to refuse to kill, or at least scare people into respect. But then you explained how you refused to be like the rest of the sinners.
He utterly dumb founded you made it this far without spilling a bit of blood, at least for survival!
He becomes more overprotective as if he wasn’t before, good luck with that!
Cause now he knows your rules, he knows you won’t budge. Nothing would get you to change your mind. So he made sure to keep eyes on you 24/7, you may be nice, but the other sinners in this damned place definitely aren’t. And he knows that from experience
Would neither confirm or deny he put a small tracker in an item you carry every where.
This man has enemy’s as you’ve seen, demons, overlords, rival company’s, it’s a headache an a half for him. Not that he hates protecting you and your values! No never!, but the nerve of the people who think they even have a chance to lay a hand on you.
Gives you the lastest phone from his series, and yes he will text you and blow up ur phone up if he can see you through cameras around the city.
Even if you put it on silent he wouldn’t put behind himself to over load it and just show up on your phone screen.
Sometimes he’s just so confused how you can be so nice, or at worst passive to those who are poking at you. He thinks your a saint, even if you aren’t, an maybe you have a short temper still the way you hold yourself form blowing up is astonishing!
Sometimes he jokes about how if you were to go to Charlie you would be redeemed in a day. And at night sometimes he thinks about it and it scares him to know there’s a possibility for you to go where he will probably never be able to follow you too
He loves you to the depths and the crooks of hell, and he’ll be damned again if he lets anyone hurt you. He sees you as a small soft light in the red cover world, and he will do anything before anyone can put out that light.
He makes sure to keep a good distance between you and Val, a BIG distance.
He’s always on the edge about people around you, how can’t he? He can’t trust all these “disgusting and repulsive” sinners in hell around you. The thought alone cringes him out and stresses him.
He knows to some degree he isn’t exactly better then them sin wise, but he makes sure to do his best for you while infornt of you, he cares about his image, and wouldn’t be afraid to scare someone into discipline. BUT he will tone it down, just for you ♥(⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝)♥
He has you under wraps, from the public eye in this case. As much as he’s one to show off his earnings, he loves you a little to much and knows well people will use you as a advantage. He loves to show off but you something just for him behind close doors for now before he can work something out
NOW if the public were to already know, he show off by showing how untouchable you were, demons knew better to approach you seeing as how fast he is to get rid of those stupid enough to try something.
Overall he respects your morals of not wanting to stoop as low as other sinners. But it dose make him more protective of you, your like a rare gem. There’s only a handful of people like you, and even then the numbers decrees daily, so he dose his most to make sure you safe and happy <3
ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ
!🎙️✨Alastor✨🎙️!
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Like Vix he humors it at first! Playing around with it before Laughing with his usual staticky voice as he stared at you with his unnerving smile. You guys quite literally stared at each other for a hot minute waiting for the other to say something.
It took you clearing your throat for him to realize you weren’t just trying to get a chuckle outta him.
And for the first time since you met him you caught a hint of confusion, making you explain that it was genuinely what you did.
He quite literally burst out laughing, you, someone who probably did something everyone did once is in this horrid place stuck with the horrid monsters ever! Just for that single act alone.
He will admit he found it a bit amusing how you refused to kill or lay a hand on anyone. Refusing to stoop to other people’s levels. Now that for him is pure gold of entreatment! He’s seen people like you, say the same exact thing then crumble when backed I to a Corner.
But for the first time, for all the decades he’s been damned here, he’s seen you stick to what you’ve stated. You were very much quite a spectacle!
Now finding new amusement, he decided to protect you, cause someone like you were sure to be a one time experience. Aside from loving you of course
Now with your name being accosted with him alone is a shield in if its self. Barely any one approached you, aside from those playing with their afterlives of course.
If you ever feel a looming shadow or presence it’s most likely one of his shadows. Like Vox he is gonna have his eyes on you almost always
Although he loves you he will play around to get a reaction out of you. All for the fun of it!, he knows you cringe when he talks about his cannibalism tendencies he just loves seeing your cute little face scrunch up!
Even though with all of that he is a gentleman and will make sure no one is to bother you.
He’s quite impressed you made it this far without getting killed, I mean of course you have him but if you arrived to hell and didn’t met him immediately he’d be quite impressed and surprised one you both do meet
He indulges himself in the horrible aspects of hell, with no remorse or shame what so ever either. So although he dose respect your wishes he won’t stop or calm down his tendencies.. (;へ:)but on the bright side he’ll make sure your far away or he goes off to other part of the city and do whatever he wishes. But your likely to see on the news either way… ( ̄▽ ̄💧
He dose enjoy the more civil and nice talks he has with you though! He finds it nice to take a break from all the crude talk on the street from other sinners and have a nice conversation!
Great listener let me tell you, he’ll happily sit there as you explain your day away! He honestly enjoys hearing you genuinely happy!, although his a chatter box himself but he enjoys listening to you more then anyone or anything else!
Watches you be nice to the most repulsive, and rude demon like it’s nothing. Even when disrespected you find a way to calm down the situation and nicely at that. Of course the demon doesn’t live long once their out of your sight, but still! He’s pleasantly surprised.
He finds it rather weird that your nice just for the sake of being nice but still it’s definitely a nice refresher from all the horrible people down in hell!
You catch his eye rather quickly with how you stick out from others (in a good way! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ) and his eyes end up on you, you mainly have all his attention almost always if he isn’t off doing something!, your his light just live Vox he’ll make sure you’ll shine bright as ever and won’t go out.
Not everyone can catch it but in some rare moments he’ll be seen just staring at you as you happily talk away to Charlie. And for the smallest second you can see his unnerving smile turn into a soft smirk, eyes only on you and his mind filled with only you. This happens on the regular, it’s just he’s quick to cover up so no one sees!
Overall he loves you, even with some differences between your views he’ll still do his best to make you comfortable. Aside from teasing you here and there! But other then that he’ll protect you, your one of kind. And he loves having things no one else can.
ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ
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AHHHH HELLOOOOO OH GORSH I MADE IT JUST IN TIME THIS TOOK SO LOBG TO DO CAUSE I KEPT HAVING TO DELETE AND REWRITE ON A NEW DRAFT AUGHHH I HOPE TUMBLR FIXES THIS BUG, BUT ANYWAY TYSM FOR REQUESTING PLEASE COME AGAIN!!!\(^ヮ^)/’
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tender-rosiey · 4 months
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i need more dad!gojo pls 😔🙏🏼
sulking — gojo satoru x f!reader
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a/n: there was an anon that requested this scenario specifically but for some reason I genuinely can't find their ask so anon if you see this, i hope you will like it! <3
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“s/n! get your tiny naked butt over here!”
your son squeals as he waddles away from his chasing dad and goes towards you, “mama!”
“yes, honey?” you reply, before turning towards your son and finding him all naked. at least, he didn’t escape from the tub, since he is still dry.
you giggle and pick him up, “what are you doing you little trouble maker?”
he kicks his feet and points upstairs, “pa!”
“oh, you’re escaping from papa?”
your son nods eagerly, looking around for any sign of said man.
“found you!”
your son squeals and hides his face in the crook of your neck. you pet his hair and look towards your husband who is…also butt-naked. you sigh, “satoru, at least wear your boxers before you chase the kid.”
“aw come on, wifey; it’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” he smirks, leaning towards you and lovingly kissing your cheek, “plus you deserve a show every once in a while.”
you pinch his nose, making him abruptly pull back with a pout, “if you want to give me a show, don’t do it in front of our son, you over-grown pack of hershey’s.”
“do you mean the cookies and cream one?” satoru says, eyes shining at the mention of one of his favorite snacks.
“yes, and I hate it.”
he gasps audibly, before taking s/n from your arms and into his own, “let’s go, s/n! we shall not tolerate mom’s slander for the hershey’s again!”
and so your husband marches back with his (still butt-naked) son to the bathroom.
satoru sets s/n on the sink, and looks down at the tub, “hey, at least the bathtub is full now,” he puts his hand in the water, “and it isn’t too cold for your small butt.”
s/n gives satoru his angriest look, before looking away with a huff.
satoru chuckles before tickling him, “you’re so cute,” s/n breaks character and starts giggling, and satoru starts cooing, “you act like your mama when I annoy her.”
satoru swiftly picks him up in one arm and points at the stash of bath bombs, “which one do you want to use?” he walks towards the box, and s/n instantly holds it with his strong hands.
satoru laughs, “oh you want all?”
s/n doesn’t respond. instead, he aggressively pulls the box towards him, luckily, satoru is able to hold it in his other hand before it fell.
he looks at his son with a pout, “you were going to create a mess, little guy.”
“mess!” your son claps and your husband can’t find it in him to scold him.
so your husband joins in on his chaos and raises him up high, “yes, big mess!”
your son squeals, reaching for his dad’s cheeks. then he starts rubbing his face on satoru’s the moment he is low enough to reach him.
he starts biting satoru’s cheeks and screams, “love you, baby!”
“love you too, my little buttered cookie,” satoru coos, unfazed by the baby eating him alive. he doesn’t let him linger though as he pulls him off his face, “time for a bath, stinky.”
s/n frowns and tries smacking satoru, but your husband quickly gets into the bath. the moment s/n touched the water, he started clapping and trying to dive deeper into the water.
satoru held him just above the water so he doesn’t fall into the bathbomb-filled water, “nuh-uh, you’re not going to fall face first into the water,” satoru spins s/n so he can settle him into the bath butt-first.
s/n wastes no time in playing with the soap foam and starts splashing everywhere.
your son is sat on the stair of the bathtub—a huge bathtub by the way, satoru specifically ordered this one for other activities though. s/n is beyond the moon and almost treats the little stair like his throne.
your husband can’t stop smiling, to the point his face starts aching, and he starts using the bubbles to form two little cat ears on s/n’s head.
your son’s curiously keeps trying to look up, but starts huffing when he can’t see the top of his head.
satoru then decides that the best solution is—“y/nnnnn! can you come over here with a camera?”
“okayyyy!” he hears you yell and shifts his attention to s/n to keep him entertained until you appear.
he leans down a little, exposing the top of his own head to his son and challenges him, “do your worst.”
your son’s—clearly inherited—competitive nature fuels him into gathering as much as bubbles as he can to place it on his dad’s head.
after that, he starts diligently molding the foam into the shape he had in mind. satoru just keeps on humming quietly, letting s/n do his magic.
once s/n finishes, he retracts his hand and clumsily mimics his dad’s proud pose, and satoru feels happier and happier as he spends time of his little ball of joy.
caught up in his emotions, he picks up s/n to hug him, but s/n slips from satoru’s grasp and into the water.
your husband is panicked right away, hands frantically searching and splashing around to get hold onto anything of his son.
he has half a mind to blast all the water away, but quickly decides against it, especially when he hears a “boo!” behind him.
your husband turns to s/n, who is giggling at finally getting to his father, and hugs him tightly, “papa’s sorry he dropped you, s/n.”
s/n, ever the empath, starts imitating what he see you and satoru do when the other is sad: he starts patting his dad’s back with a murmur of “’s ‘kay.”
satoru thinks he is going to sob right then and there, but you finally enter the bathroom, and satoru and s/n quickly perk up at your presence.
“mama!”
“wifey!” satoru grins and starts scrambling to make a new pair of cat ears on s/n.
and so you’re met with one of the cutest sights of your baby that you have ever seen. he is beaming with a smile so contagious that you don’t even notice one being instantly on your face.
he is also sporting a pair of bubble cat ears, so, of course, you get out your phone and start snapping away.
“s/n, look at mama!”
“yay!”
after a couple of photos, you hear someone clear his throat, and you look to your side to see a very pouty satoru. he huffs and looks away from you, “imagine ignoring the love of your life for a small mochi.”
“we made this small mochi, ‘toru.”
“exactly!” he declares then locks eyes with you, “that means I am the original and I should be appreciated more, anyway—what do you think of his cat ears?”
your husband’s tone switches almost instantly and starts fangirling about s/n, taking him into his arms and lightly bouncing him on knee, “he is so cute! almost as cute as me, right?!”
“you’re so right! he is the cutest cutie to ever exist!” you coo, arms reaching out to s/n, and your son throws himself into your arms with no hesitation.
you secure in your hold before chuckling, “you’re mama’s cute boy, right?”
you feel satoru stare daggers at your soul, but ignore him for the time being, “did you actually shower or do anything to clean, s/n? you smell stinky.”
your son frowns at that and buries his face in your shoulder to sulk. you stifle a giggle and question your husband about something that has been on your mind since you entered, “also, satoru—“
he perks up.
“—what is that blob of bubbles on your head supposed to be?”
and that, my friend, is how you got stuck in the bathtub with your two boys, each burying their face into your shoulders and—you guessed it—sulking.
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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sukunas-wife · 4 months
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Sealed 2
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“Year after year after year the hours pass and it never ends, I’ve been here for millennia is Ryomen even trying?” You sat down onto the pile of bones, skeletons supporting you the best they could. The Prison Realm had become your domain, you’d molded every bone and skeleton to do your work. Your elbow resting on the spine of skeleton your cheek pressing against your fist as you stared bored.
Looking down the pile of bones and skeletons holding up your throne that you had formed to match Sukuna’s you saw two Skeletons battling for your amusement. Sighing you slouched back in your throne, watching the two headed four armed skeleton using sharpened bones as spears, fighting a towering 6 armed Skelton. His arms like vices ready to grab and shove whatever into its gaping rib cage to crush it. “This needs more!” The two skeletons looked up at you, before the rumbling of the skeletal centaur could be heard, a centaur of bone, his torso with 4 arms, it held an extended spine as if it were a chain. Lower two arms ready to grab at anything, more specifically rip off the head and spine of its opponents.
“YES! THIS IS what we need!” You smacked the skeleton who stood near you on the back. His bones shaking as you leaned forward, you’d find out soon which of your creations was truly the strongest. “Let’s get this show started-“ it was quick blur of red and black before you were standing head tilted to the side as you stared irked at the man in front of you. “Do YOU KNOW WHAT YOU JUST DID.”
“PLEASE FORGIVE ME! I BEG FOR MERCY I SPENT MUCH OF MY LIFE LOOKING FOR THIS TREASURE THATS BEEN hidden away heating the tales of how the sourcerer’s of old time had wrongly imprisoned a Diety of Fertility separating her from her son. I just come to beg and ask you give my wife your blessing to have a child were old in age but she’s always prayed and begged. I’ve run out of hope until i heard you tale, i beg and hoped you’d have mercy- Sit up” was all you said. The man went from groveling to sitting back on his heels. Sighing the conflict inside of you was great. You looked around tucking your arms into the sleeves of your worn Kimono. “Bring me your wife,” you looked up through the canopy of the trees you see the sun at mid day, “you have two sunsets and then I leave.” The man quickly bowed again at your feet thanking you before running off. You kicked the prison realm box “Damnit who won!” You snatched it up, the air was familiar, you started to look around. The reason it was so familiar was because it wasn’t to far from where you had been sealed. The skeletal remains of the sourcerers made you seethe. You found the remains of the man who sealed you grabbing his skull with your free hand making it look at you, “my child my husband,” you crushed it without fail, “you took it all from me and now everyone will pay.” Th tears falling down were hot. Dropping the remains you started your first technique “Reanimate.” A wave of purple radiated from you, hitting every border of the palace. Skeletal remains shaking and coming together to stand, “Get this place back into shape.” They started moving, you made your way inside the palace the inside help had been reanimated also, your ladies in waiting now remains, standing beside you as you enter “Find fabric I need new robes.” They rushed off and you made it to your old room, the massive bed your son had fallen off many times when he would try to sleep with you and his dad. The wardrobe filled with your husband’s old robes. The room was dusty and smelt humid, shoving the window open you tried not to cry, on the window sill was a talisman Sukuna had created for Yuji. Sniffling you turned your head, finding a small blanket and stuffed Tiger doll Yuji carried around that morning. A gift for his 2nd birthday that he loved and it showed on the tigers rugged appearance.
“My Yuji..” your faint whisper sounding so loud in the silence as you ran your fingers of the stuffed doll holding it close to your chest as you made your way around the room planning your moves. Your plans had always been to follow in similar steps to Sukuna. Except that you’d be known for good to balance out the evil perspective they had of your husband. First, fix your palace. Second, create miracles in the closest town or village to make profit and move into a bigger city to improve profits. Find wherever Sukuna had been sealed away, and break him free. Find Yuji and take him back from this cruel world.
❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️
It’s been over 100 more years and you’d grown accustomed to the changing in technology and times, passing the crowds into your shrine you smiled ruffling the heads of kids who smiled up at you, rubbing the plump bellies of pregnant women you passed and “blessing” the sick with instant health with simply laying a hand on them and smiling kindly.
Entering your shrine for the last time your Gentlemen in waiting was packing up what was left. The last thing left was the main room where your wide throne sat, you’d be leaving it being to your followers, the cushions you provided for your followers during your sessions. “Morí.” You called out and he came from the room he was in bowing and holding his hands out in front of him. “Yes Lady Y/n?”
“Morinozuka, we’re leaving tonight to Sendai City. The mark of my binding vow is burning more, but are you sure that’s where we need to go?”
“Yes Lady Y/n.” He spoke not looking up from his bow. You nodded, “then it’s final.”
❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️
“So this is the place?” You turned to Morí and he nodded. “It’s not as lavish but this is the closest we can get… Your excellency.. I strongly recommend you continue to hide your cursed energy until I suggest otherwise.” You nodded getting out of the car “Very well, I will.”
It was morning when you had arrived, standing in front of the door to the house you looked over an elder man was walking out of his house he looked over and you smiled at him and he had a very faint twitch of his lip. Until a man with pink hair came out, follows by a woman with black hair and you felt it. The pulse of cursed energy and instinctively you grabbed Mori by his robes and pulled him towards you, “That woman, she’s no woman that- is the carrier of your child.” You head snapped instantly to him, “The father of my child, that’s the sorcerer who knew Sukuna, and he is going to mother my child?” Your face showing your exact emotions Mori placing a hand over yours, “Lady Y/n, please recollect your thoughts. I can assure you he will NOT be mothering your child, and her husband will not be fathering him either.” Letting go of his robes you nodded. Looking over your shoulder you watched the couple get into a car the elder man scowling when they started to drive away.
Turning to look at you he tucked his arms behind his back walking over, “Good Morning I’m L/n Y/n.” You greeted bowing after you moved closer, he dismissed you with a wave of your hand. “Morning, Wasuke Itadori.” He cocked a brow and looked over at your house, “It’s been up for sale for a long time. Almost 3 years before someone has moved in.” You looked back at your house, “I moved in to get closer to work. I thought it was just a blessing for everything to line up so perfectly.”
He nodded, “Well, blessings only go so far here. My son’s wife is something I’d consider to be a curse.” You nodded, “oddly enough I wouldn’t disagree. I know a snake when I see one and from a brief glance I wouldn’t trust her at all.”
He nodded, “Have a good day moving in, if you need help my son and his wife will be returning soon. I’m sure either of them would be willing to help with any problems.”
“Have a good day Mr.Itadori.” You bowed your head slightly and you both went separate ways.
“Mori,” you sighed entering your house “count these days.”
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lvlyghost · 10 months
Text
The Things I Never Said: Part 2
Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader
Summary: upon learning about your pregnancy simon thinks there are things he needs to take care of.
Word Count: 1.2k
Tw: Angst, fluff, hurt with a lot of comfort, banter. The task force is there for you💞 i think that's it✨
A/N: here it is, i never planned a second part so forgive me if it's not as good! Still hope you like it. Already working on a request that's similar to this one🐸✨ thank you so much for all the support. Reblogs and comments are appreciated! Remember english isn't my first language, corrections are welcome🩵
Masterlist✨ | Part 1 | Part 3
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Simon pulls you closer to his body, one arm draped over your form and hand resting on your stomach. The storm is raging outside, the thunder startles you every five minutes. You stay there in complete silence as the realization of this whole thing settles in your minds. He wants you to be safe now more than ever that's why when he's reliving the events of the day it hits him. He had thought the worst, that you were abandoning him, that you got tired of him. Simon would never say this to you but losing you would be the end of him. Enraged and with his heart racing he had hopped on his motorcycle. The soft caressing of his fingers stops abruptly, body going rigid behind you. You turn your face in worry.
"Simon?" You call him. You were beginning to fall asleep. "What is it?"
"That fuckin' muppet." He snarls. "I was so caught up in you leaving that I'd forgotten he hit you. That cunt... fucking Christ." He sits. "Let me see." He lifts your shirt just above your belly with gentle hands.
"Love, I'm... it's fine." Simon sucks in a sharp breath as his eyes land on the bruised area of your skin.
"What did the doctor say?" He demands, eyes somber.
"She said i should stay in bed for a few days and to not lift heavy things or you know just... overwork myself."
Simon rubs his eyes with the heel of his hands, disgruntled.
"This is on me... my bloody fault"
"Hey, stop now." You stand up, coming to a sitting position to mirror his stance. "You didn't know." Soft hands fall on both sides of his face. "I should've told you before this happened, if anything this is on me."
"If something happened to you i would never forgive myself, kid. Lie down. You need to rest. I'll be here when you wake up."
-
Simon's been waiting for this day since the incident. You're still at home, recovering from what could've ended with you in a hospital bed and a broken heart.
"You sure about this, Sir?" Gaz asks, worried about what might happen. "It's just training right?"
"Just training." Simon's eyes are set on that bastard. Craning his neck he steps on the sparring mat. As much as he wanted to go find him and kill him he couldn't do such thing. But after the images that flooded his mind made him realize how dangerous it had been. What could potentially have happened the rage within him is boiling his blood. And now he needs somebody to pay the price. Choices have consequences and he nearly had a painful one. If he had insisted just more...
Breathing harshly he looks him in the eye. Poor muppet doesn't know what's coming for him. He stands there confidently, thinking he has a chance against Ghost. Not Simon, the man only she gets the chance to see.
This is Ghost about to fight.
-
For some reason you decided to stop by the local pastry shop and bring something for the task force. You're feeling much better so that's why you're walking down the corridor of the military compound. With a shirt that's nearly too oversized a pair of combat boots and a cap. You figured you could have these outside of the base and enjoy a nice day with your teammates. You missed them already. Since Simon had been reluctant to leave your side, and you loved it that's for sure, but he wouldn't let you do much as simple tasks like washing the dishes or doing the laundry.
Walking past the doors you're greeted with loud cheering and yelling at the two men in the middle of the mat. Your smile quivers until you process the scene in front of you. Not surprised, not worried. He's gonna be just fine. The other poor boy... Price is the first to notice you, approaching you in three long strides. He had decided to stop by and watch, that's how they sort things out.
"Here, let me help you with that." He takes most of the desserts from your hands, scrutinizing your features with slight concern. Your eyes glued to Simon's hulking body. "I'm gonna assume he doesn't know you're here. Shouldn't you be resting?"
"I'm not on duty, Captain."
"I'm not asking as your Captain but as a friend."
You turn to face him with the ghost of a smile on your lips.
"I'm feeling better so I wanted to see you all, maybe we could have these together as soon as Simon is done with his personal grudge."
Price chuckles. Reluctant to see the rest of the fight, you keep talking to John until it comes to an end. More cheers and clapping echoing around the place. You take a quick glance and get a glimpse of the younger soldier limping while he plops down on a near bench, his teammates gathered around him holding a towel out for him to clean up his face. Footsteps approach you and Price, Simon's frowning behind the mask you can tell by the way the corner of his eyes wrinkle.
"Hey little lady!" Soap greets you with a big smile, hugging you tightly. "Heard you got all knocked up!"
"For fucks sake, Johnny!" Gaz scolds him. "Have some more respect for the girl."
Johnny rolls his eyes feigning annoyance letting Kyle hug you too.
"Don't bet mad at him. We all know why he had to do it." He whispers before pulling away.
When Simon joins you, you're aware of what's coming.
"You're out of bed." He points out, blankly.
"It's been almost a week. As long as I don't lift heavy things I'll be alright. Remember?" You speak back. You reach out for his hand and intertwine your fingers with his. The rest of the team silently walks away to the outside giving you some privacy. Simon studies you, all of you. There's a spark of worry in his blue eyes that you don't like. "Don't worry about me anymore."
He pulls you closer, arms wrapping around your shoulders as he inhales deeply.
"Is that my shirt, doll?" He asks in a hushed tone. You chuckle, burying your face in his chest.
"I missed you, and it smells like you." Simon prompts you softly to start walking outside and join the rest. "You're not hurt, are you?" You stare up at him.
"Don't you worry about me, he wasn't able to land one single hit, love."
You pull him down kissing over the black balaclava where his lips would be.
"I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for not telling you Simon." You sigh.
"I understand now why you didn't, kid. I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at myself for not making you feel safe enough to tell me. If anything I'm to blame."
"Is there any chance I may touch your belly?" Soap asks as soon as you sit down next to him.
"Yes." You reply with a wide smile.
"No." Simon growls at the same time.
"Jesus! I suppose that naming the child after me is also off the table?"
"Absolutely."
A round of laughs echoing around and along the backyard. Your eyes scanning every person gathered in this very moment. Loyalty, admiration, respect and love.
A family of your own that would soon get a new addition.
"What if it's a beautiful girl?" Gaz interrogates.
Everyone goes silent.
"Fucking hell." Simon whispers.
He's fucked.
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mcondance · 10 months
Text
come close; hobie brown
getting high and talking about anarchy with some old 90's shit playing is a crazy way to fall for someone. but it happens.
pairing hobie brown x Black!afab!fem! reader
contents lots of weed, different terms for weed (mary jane, cess), talks of killing politicians (y’all r both anarchists so.), masturbation (both you and hobie), making out, fingering, riding, missionary, mating press, creampie, unprotected sex (they're horny man dwbi), dirty talk, cervix kissing, lotsssss of praise, porn with plot (sorry i love plot 🙏🏾)
words 4.7k.. back on my longer fic shit!
warnings reader wears lipgloss, barely proofread so if you see any mistakes pls shoot me an ask!, umm i use the n word once!, i’m also,, not that great at writing his voice yet so.. hope it’s at least sorta accurate :3
extras the form i wrote this in is kinda,, unique igs but it flows rlly well i feel.
song shoutouts special thanks to lipstick lover by janelle monae, come close by common and mary j. blige, and green eyes by erykah badu!
signing off happy father’s day to hobie 🫶🏾
not quite plug!hobie, but hobie who always has weed, who you smoke with the first time you buy from him.
you usually don’t smoke with randoms, but you hear some old 90's rap playing from inside his car, and he invites you in when you comment on it.
"what you know bout this?" you ask with a smile.
"a lot, actually. you wanna smoke and listen?"
not quite plug!hobie who's fine as fuck as he sits opposite you in his ride, tall and darkskin with cool ass hair. wild ass accent and even wilder style, but he makes it work. his music taste adds on to his overall allure.
but his political views? god. the charm in the shape of a little 'a' surrounded by a circle hanging from his mirror lets you know that he ain't like these other niggas.
he's an anarchist. so far, you're the only anarchist you know. it's so rare to find someone who has the same values as you.
not quite plug!hobie who's car you leave with music recs clumsily typed into your notes, and someone to talk about politics with, though you're too shy to text the pretty boy with the good weed, so you're sure it'll never happen.
not quite plug!hobie who texts you when you get home to make sure you arrived safely.
"driving while high ain't safe, ya know? you at home?"
"i've done it before. i made it home."
not quite plug!hobie who's so nice to you, complimenting your outfits and hair, even noticing when you meet him the 3rd time with a new style.
not quite plug! hobie who you find out has been giving you discounts when your friends ask if you ever bought from him after their recommendation, and you run them in on the details. you think it’s just cause y’all smoked the first time you ever bought from him and you bonded over political views and music. you don’t think nothing else of it.
not quite plug!hobie who you find yourself thinking about more and more often, ever since that first time y'all smoked together.
not quite plug!hobie who finds himself in the same predicament.
not quite plug!hobie who answers the door on your 6th buy in a pair of red sweats and a tight white t-shirt that hugs his lanky frame, hair tied up with a blue shoe string. he invites you into his crib, citing reasons of having no one else to talk to about his views with. after all, it's the first time you both have time to sit and talk and listen to music instead of a quick deal since that first time.
not quite plug!hobie who you get faded as fuck with, this time sharing a joint on his janky couch, heavy hands brushing against each other with each pass. he tries to ignore the aching in his very core every time you speak your mind, your aligning politics driving him crazy.
you mirror him, shaking off the.. arousal?.. no, it can't be. you can't be getting all heated just cause a man is an anarchist. whatever. just ignore it.
not quite plug!hobie who laughs when you tell him straight up, “people aren’t killing politicians anymore. that’s our fuckin’ problem.”
"really? you're wild. but i get it."
"course you do." you nod, taking another drag of the joint. erykah badu's "green eyes" is playing quietly in the background of your convo. hobie starts laughing.
"what?" you smile.
"song's called green eyes, right? well we got red eyes." it's corny and wouldn't be funny if you two weren't high as shit, but you are high as shit, so it's fucking hilarious.
not quite plug!hobie who's eyes linger on you as he pulls laugh after laugh out of your chest with his snarky little jokes.
not quite plug!hobie who walks you to your car after your smoke session, telling you to get home safely. he passes out after his head hits the bed, that after smoke sleep being some of the best he's ever had. he tries to chase you out of his mind as he succumbs to the cess.
not quite plug!hobie who lights a joint and then pulls his dick out the next day, hard and heavy, and strokes it thinking about his pretty little client— friend? whatever — hips stuttering as he wraps his hand around his thick base. he's tried to shake you off, went all day distracting himself with this and that, but it's not working.
not quite plug!hobie who cums in white spurts splattering on his chest to the thought of making you cum in a room filled with smoke, some old r&b playin as he dicks you down the way he's been wanting to since the first time your pretty ass came to him asking for some weed. he wants you bent over on the end of his bed, eyes low and red while he fills you up and fucks you good, gives you his dick like he feels you so rightfully deserve.
not quite plug!hobie who you seriously can't stop thinking of. last night's smoke session has you on edge, so you light another joint, but weed always gets you horny, so when you slip your fingers into your panties and touch yourself to the thought of the pretty darkskin boy with the piercings and cool hair pushing his fat cock into your pretty hole, you blame it on the mary jane sitting pretty in your veins.
the fault lies in the mary jane for making you think about him laid on top of you, talking you through it as he damn near kisses your cervix, his wiry hands roaming your body. the fault lies in the mary jane for having your legs shaking, imagining your pretty plug folding you in half and ruining you, leaving you and your cunt sore and satisfied and dripping his cum.
not quite plug!hobie who cleans up while telling himself that he can't do this again, that you're not interested in him.
not quite plug!hobie who you block out of your mind as you shower. what you did wasn't right. it won't happen again.
not quite plug!hobie who you don’t buy from for a minute, cause you’re trying to stop smoking so much, for a while. you still keep in contact with him, though. daily texts, funny memes, and of course talks of anarchy. one day, you call him “bee” instead of hobie, and it sticks. he likes it.
not quite plug!hobie… who you fuck yourself to again, this time slipping three fingers inside your greedy cunt to satiate the need for him. it’s almost every night, and it’s a different fantasy every time. 
in the backseat of his car, bent over on his counter, pressed into his couch cushions. your head pressing into your pillows while visions of hobie’s lips pressed to your ear praising you endlessly for being his good girl and taking him so well torment you. you’re insatiable, but when you text you have to pretend like you don’t want his piercing scraping against your clit as he eats you like a man starved.
not quite plug!hobie who has the same dilemma as you.. he can’t even go a couple of hours without growing hard in his sweats, glimpses of you spread out on his bed with your thighs thrown over his shoulders, or you face down ass up, sobbing in pure ecstasy. it’s not made better by y’all’s constant texting, more and more of your personality being revealed to him each day.
you both share one brain, really. and that one brain finds each other attractive, of course, but it’s not just that. it’s not just pure lust. you two have more in common than anyone you’ve ever met, and that sinks ache and want so deep into you that every night and day is spent trying to rid yourselves of it.
not quite plug!hobie who you buy from again almost two weeks later, two weeks that were filled with funny conversations and deep discussions of politics through text. two weeks that solidify the growing feelings you have for each other. this time, he’s wearing a pair of blue sweats and a tight black tee, and his hair is tied up just like the first time you came to his house. this time, brandy’s playing throughout his crib.
you’ve only known each other for about two months, but it feels like longer, for the both of you. you take your seat on the couch as he grabs his stash and his papers, pulling out one paper to roll up.
not quite plug!hobie who sits a little bit closer than he did last time. he smells good. your head is swimming already. 
not quite plug!hobie who lights up and then lets you take the first hit, watching you wrap your glossy lips around the joint like he doesn’t wish they were wrapped around his dick instead. you pass the joint to him and settle onto the couch, raking your eyes over his lanky frame, and what you swear is a hard-on. no way. it has to be the weed. 
he settles back onto the couch too, extending his long arms on the back. his arm comes up behind your head, and you rest your head on it, smiling dopily when he directs his hazy gaze your way. his playlist must have ended. you're left with him and your thoughts.
“you’re funny, you know?” he says through a breath of smoke, passing the joint to you.
“yeah?” you reply, hitting it again. “everyone tells me i’m just corny.”
“you’re not corny. you’re pretty hilarious, if i’m bein’ honest.” 
and there it is again.
not quite plug!hobie whose words light that fire in you again, the fire that you’ve been dousing every night for the past two fucking weeks. fuck, not here. not now. you grab the joint from him in an attempt to push more weed into your system to flush him out, but you meet his pretty fuckin’ brown eyes and they’re low and his lips looks so good and he smells so good and suddenly you’re asking not quite plug who you’re two seconds away from fucking!hobie why he’s been charging you less than everyone else who buys from him and why he invited you into his car and into his house, twice.
and not quite plug who really wants to kiss you right now!hobie can’t even joke and twist his way out of this one. he’s tired of cumming alone to the thought of you. the worst you can do is leave. but the best? god, so many things.
“'s cause i think you’re pretty. n' i really wanna kiss you right now.”
“then do it.”
not quite plug!hobie who tastes like weed and chocolate. the hand that was resting on the back of the couch finds it’s way to the small of your back, fingers drawing nonsensical shapes into it. your hands find his knee and his neck as you press your lips into his. you slide closer to him, and then he’s using the hand resting on your back to push you into his lap, hands settling on your hips as you settle above him, your hands circling around his neck.
“how long?” you ask between kisses.
“since the day you walked up to my car.” he responds quietly, cheeks heating up with embarrassment. he’s quick to trap your lips again.
god, he is hard. and he’s big, you can feel him pressing against the inside of your thigh. you hold your tongue, figuring you could deal with that later. right now, you just need to get out what you’ve been keeping in since the day you two met and you spotted the little ‘a’ hanging from his mirror.
the kiss grows deeper and he grows a little less shy, starting to use his hands gripping your waist to grind you against him. heat floods you when you realize that he's pulling you onto his cock, pressing your cunt against him, separated by the fabric of his sweats and your shorts.
you find his rhythm, falling into the pattern of his soft pushes and presses, a gentle lull of bodies moving against each other that makes you even more comfortable than you already are. soft little groans escaping the both of you, mixing with the smoke and infatuation in the air.
he lets you move the way you want, lithe fingers tracing up your back, hovering over where your hair falls onto your neck. he keeps kissing you for a minute, seemingly frozen. but then he's pulling away to speak, "can i- can i touch your hair?"
you stop moving with a smile. you nod. "yeah. thanks for asking." you kiss him again.
"course, love." he nods, and then he kisses you again. his long fingers snake into your hair, gently and softly. he strokes his hands through your locks, in time with your kisses and the movements of your hips that have started again. hands migrating from his neck, sliding down his chest, laying flat-palmed. your fingers slide under his tee, curling and gripping to pull him ever closer to you.
not quite plug!hobie who could kiss you forever. you could too, but you want more. you need him. so you pull away just a little, murmur "can feel you against me." chills rack through him at your words.
"i know. 'm so hard, darlin'." he pushes his hips up just a little, drawing a muffled whine from you.
"been wantin' you so bad.." you trail off. hobie takes it upon himself to move his hands from your hair to the waistband of your shorts, eyes fixed on yours, watching your every move. you nod, giving him permission to snake his fingers into your shorts, fingers that are met with no resistance.
"no panties? did'ya plan this, doll?" he smiles, slim fingers exploring your wetness, doing what he can with the limited space.
"mhm." you shake your head. "'s more comfortable." he hums in agreement. he circles your clit with his middle finger, dipping towards your entrance to collect more slick. you push down against his fingers, causing him to have to crane his wrist to reach you.
"can we take these off? can't touch you the way i wanna." you blush, averting your eyes to focus on the hand that disappears into your shorts.
"yeah." you breathe shakily, standing up and letting hobie pull them down your legs, hands on his shoulders as balance. your shirt is long, and it falls down to give you some modesty. hobie throws your shorts somewhere behind you before he leans back, giving you space to sit back down.
he looks so fucking good, brown eyes staring at you like you hung the stars in the sky. he reaches out for you, pulling you back into his lap by your hips. his hand disappears under your shirt while his lips find yours again, exploring you more freely this time.
"so wet, doll." he murmurs between one kiss and another, smiling when you whine. his fingers move at different speeds, pressing in different areas and circling at different speeds until he finds a combination that makes you jolt against him, whining "bee."
"thaaaaat's it, love." this time, you don't return your lips to his, instead tucking your head into his neck as you hump shamelessly against his hand, his cock pressing hard and heavy against your thigh. "keep going, baby," he urges, "show me how it feels."
and you do. you shiver and shake and whine and groan in pleasure, pressing kisses in his brown skin as he touches you the way he touched himself thinking about.
not quite plug!hobie who presses his thumb into your clit, sliding his hand farther down to tease your drooling hole. "'s wet, love. g'na feel so good 'round me." you moan loudly at that, at the thought of your fantasies coming true. you cant your hips down, sliding down his fingers until they're seated inside you, stroking gently at your sensitive walls.
pulling them out softly, he curls his fingers, twisting his wrist as you whine and mouth at his neck. "'s okay. you can bite." he nods, catching onto what you were holding yourself back from. you still don't, resign to licking and sucking instead.
until his fingers catch the spongy spot inside you, and your teeth are sinking into the column. "fuck," you damn near shout, pushing yourself onto his hand. he groans in response, pleased to be pleasing you and indulging in the pain you inflict on him. thumb on your clit and fingers playing with that spot, he brings his other hand from your hip to your hair to soothe you, to ground you.
it's sweet, really, his hand in your hair while the other one touches you the way you've been dreaming of. coos and hums meet your ears, soft sounds of affirmation egging you on to let yourself get lost in the pleasure he delivers you. arousal steadily dripping out of your hole, hobie's fingers sliding easier and easier inside you until he can pull out and slip right back in.
"you're so pretty, dove, fuckin' dreamgirl." he murmurs, staring down at your pretty face, arched eyebrows turned down in ecstasy, lips parted. the praise takes you closer and closer to the edge, his deep voice reverberating throughout your entire being, the pangs of arousal in your clit growing harder and faster. you're close.
you're so goddamn close to cumming for a boy you just wanted to buy from. his long fingers reach deep, deeper than you could ever even dream of. “hobie- i- i’m g’na-” you stutter against his neck, hips stuttering against his fingers.
“‘s okay, love, cum. i’m right here.” the rubber band snaps, and you're tightening your thighs around his hand while you shake and shiver, eyes closed tight with soft whines of "hobie, god it feels so good" tumbling from your lips. you tighten around his fingers, too, squeeze him so tight he winces, cause he just knows you're gonna feel so good wrapped around him. he pushes that thought away, though, focused on helping you ride out your orgasm.
fingers pressing into your clit and that spot inside you, he makes sure to milk every last second of your climax, eyes fixed on your ethereal features. aftershocks still racking through you, you finally open your eyes, and he takes it as a sign to gently pull his fingers out of you and wipe them on his sweats, and you shudder at the feeling.
"that was. . so much better than i imagined. n' i imagined it being pretty good." you smile and giggle, placing a kiss on his neck. he laughs in response, raising his eyebrows at your confession.
"bet i'm a better fuck than you imagined, too." the air in the room shifts again, and suddenly you're aware of his cock pressed against your thigh through his sweats again.
"bet you are."
you raise up, kissing him again as your hands find the waistband of his sweats and invite themselves in, meeting his dick that's been hard since you first sat down on his couch. "and i'm the one who planned this? you're free-balling." you murmur against his lips, and he mirrors your words from earlier.
"'s more comfortable, 's all— fuck." he's cut off when you pull his cock out of his sweats and run your finger over his pretty brown tip, dipping into his slit. his hips thrust up, chasing your soft hand. "g'na drive me crazy." he almost whines, jerking against you when you swipe your thumb against his aching tip again.
"just returnin' the favor." you shoot back, raising up to hover over him, swiping his leaking dick through your wetness. he wraps his hand around his thick base, moving in time with your teasing strokes. "you're big." you groan, hesitating to seat yourself on him.
"i know, doll, you can take it though. we'll make you take it." he speaks into your clothed chest, muffled and horny, and you’re sure he means what he says. you drip even more at his words, sticky slick wetting his fat tip.
not quite plug!hobie whose hands are on your hips as you sink down onto his pretty dick, whining into his neck as he encourages you. “you got it, baby, you’re takin’ me so well. god, she’s so wet.”
"she— fuck that's so hot," you moan, eyes rolling back at his words.
"mhm?" he hums.
you don't respond, too busy focusing on his fat cock pushing into you, focusing on the way you both make it fit, exactly like he said you would. finally, he bottoms out, your thighs resting against his sweats.
"g' job, babe. knew you could take me." you jolt against him, his heady words sending another pang of arousal straight to where you two meet.
not quite!plug hobie who you tell to move, raising your hips up as he pulls out, meeting him in the middle as he fills you back up. his hips slot against yours again, and his big chocolate eyes are fixed on yours, gazing upon you in adoration, while your eyes are fixed on where he disappears into you.
"so big, feels s'good. ." you whisper, meeting his gaze. the look in his eyes has chills running down your spine as you raise your hips again, choosing to connect your lips with his again. hobie starts to find a rhythm, now, wrapping his long arms around your waist. you swap spit with him as his hips meet your ass, taking over.
body bouncing with each of his thrusts into your pussy, arms wrapped around his neck. his lips slipping against yours, plump and wet. you both take it slow, basking in the feeling of finally being like this with someone you've wanted since you first saw them.
he fills you up so nicely, thick cock nestled in your achy walls, leaking tip just barely kissing your cervix as he thrusts just a bit harder and you push down a little more.
"y'feel me, darlin? 'm all the way in, at the end of you, god, 'm g'na make you mine." he babbles in pleasure, pushing his hips up even harder. still soft, but firm, and deliberate.
you nod against his lips, hand resting on his cheek. "feel you, bee, feel you in my fuckin' stomach, i swear." you feed off of him and he feeds off of you, kissing and slapping your hips against the others, wild and wanting. "fuckin' me so good, bee, makin' me yours."
"makin' me yours, doll, pussy's squeezin' me like she don't w'na let go."
"don't wanna let go, wan' you so bad." you confess, bringing your ass down onto his cock again. "i— fuck," you sob. his cock curves just right, and with his tip pressing against your spot now, hobie's found new determination.
"that it?" he asks, making sure to keep hitting that spongy patch of skin with every thrust, sheathing his cock in your wet heat.
"'s it, hobie, feels so good, shit." the high has worn off by now, leaving pure emotions and desire driving you two. you get tight around him again, cunt pulsing with every slam of his hips against yours. you feel so good around him, so tight and wet.
"'m g'na—, you're gonna make me cum, bee."
he moves one hand from around your waist at that, sliding between you two to toy with your clit, thumb rubbing wild shapes against the throbbing bud.
"fuck," you cry, grinding against his thumb and down onto his dick.
"you close again, doll? wan' you to wet me up, ma'me a mess," he encourages, big brown eyes fixed on yours like they've been the whole night.
"'m so close, bee, wanna cum for you, wanna wet you up."
"then do it." he mirrors your words from earlier, and the pleasure pulsing through your veins and infatuation swirling around in your blood gets to be too much, and you cum on his cock, still slamming your hips down onto him, meeting his thrusts in the middle. "thaaaat's it, doll." you hear hobie praise through the fog in your mind, bounces turned to messy grinds as you get all tight around him, cumming hard.
"y'alright, love?" he asks, moving your hair out of your face.
"mhm. w'na go again, you haven't come yet." he chuckles at your words, wrapping both hands around your waist and kissing you again.
"lay back, love." he murmurs against your lips, flipping you onto the couch. your back meets the smooth fabric as he lays you down, pulling his tee and his sweats off. you follow suit, stripping your shirt off and throwing it somewhere behind his couch. his watchful eyes fall on your face, then your tits, then your cunt, taking your body in for the first time.
he finds his place on top of you, balancing himself on his elbows as he kisses you again. he reaches down, but you stop him. "lemme do it," you urge, replacing his hand. you line him up with your sopping entrance, nodding twice to tell him to push in.
the stretch is so fucking good, his cock bullying it's way into your tight cunt again.
"fuck, that's it," he curses, watching your face as he seats himself in your once again.
"so deep. ." you trail off, looking down at your stomach, and oh fuck, no way.
"hobie, hobes, look," you urge, and he points his gaze to where you're looking.
"oh, love, look at that. can see myself, right there," he presses down on the bulge he creates, ripping a broken moan straight from your throat.
"fuck me, please," you sob, squirming under him. he nods, understanding, and finds his rhythm easier this time, lean hips slapping against you. your body jolts up the couch with every thrust, choppy whines of nonsensical sentences leaving your mouth.
not quite plug who's absolutely pussydrunk!hobie can't get enough of your cunt, the way you squeeze him oh so tight, the wet squelches of your heat drawing him further into madness. he needs to go deeper, needs to fuck you harder, so he raises up, throwing your legs over his shoulders, leaning back down to bury his cock deep inside you.
"baby, fuck." it's a gritted groan, head rolling back onto the couch as he mouths at your neck, licking and biting at your heated skin. his thrusts are slow and firm, dick kissing your cervix, the slaps sounding out through his living room.
you're both quiet this time around, too blissed out to do anything but fuck, allowing yourselves to succumb to pleasure. every inch of his cock fills you, driving you crazy, driving him crazy too. it's intimate, his lips on your neck, your fingers palming at his back, limbs tangled together. and you can feel it building up in you again.
"'m g'na cum, hobes." he moves one of his arms, bringing his thumb down to rub at your clit, still mouthing at your neck. he lets it happen this time, doesn't urge you or change anything he's doing, and you coast into your climax so gratifyingly that you almost cry, squeezing him tight once again. now, your focus is on making him cum.
"wan' you to cum, hobes."
"gotta pull out, love. we ain' even put a rubber on." he realizes.
"no you don't. 'm clean. jus' fill me up, please." in your right mind, you wouldn't let him, but you're not in your right mind, and neither is he. so he cums with a groan, shaking as he spills pressed against your cervix.
the air's.. different now, satisfied and calm. you both lay there for a while, until hobie's picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up.
after, he lights another joint that you two share tucked under his covers, hugged up like a couple.
not quite plug!hobie holds you as you both fall asleep.
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anantaru · 3 months
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hear me out.. this is fluffy 🥹
imagine wriothesley as a dad, especially a girl dad! (thanks to his teaser for this idea!!!)
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cw. ・✶ 。 none, fluff, established relationship (he's your husband), girl dad wriothesley <3 (she's around 6), fem! reader
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the love wriothesley has for his daughter is the purest form of love.
it's new— and he has never felt it before, in fact, it cannot be compared with anything else in this universe.
as it was in his life, wriothesley was severely occupied as the duke of the fortress and such was the wonderful reason as to why he likes to appreciate the little moments that happen in your day to day life with your daughter— the feeling of protecting his child was inexpressible, and in order for him to at least miss you both a little bit less or make it become somewhat bearable, wriothesley finds himself romanticizing the morning hours of the day.
the duke starts his day with greeting you, his wife, and his cute daughter before he helps you to get her ready as much as he can— side note your daughter has his eyes, and if words could describe it only a little bit, she looks just like an angel.
also— it might be silly, or maybe it just looks silly seeing your husband struggle like that, but something about him doing your daughters hair was— by the same token, very cute and quite hilarious.
that's when his alter ego, the quote on quote, “hair stylist wriothesley”, comes into place.
not beating around the bush, but your husband was surprisingly very good at doing her hair. obviously, he does it the same way you showed him, yet he will always add a ridiculous amount of bedazzled hair accessories to her head.
to say that wriothesley was a big fan of glittery, sparkly head pieces would be a clear understatement— but do not try to put them on his hair, this dangerous route will take you to a tickle competition you simply cannot win, not even if you tried your hardest.
the duke didn't see anything wrong with clipping a bunch of radiant hair accessories on her head, even though she might end up looking like a disco ball— not that your daughter minds it, archons, she utterly adored it whenever her dad did her hair!
she was, in fact, the biggest fan of her dad doing it, because they got to spend some quality time together before he would be gone for the majority of her day. how he kneels down behind her while she sits on the little seat in front of her child-sized vanity, looking at her dad through glowy, admiring eyes while he does her hair for the day.
sadly, wriothesley knows that after that he has to work, he must and it will always take him all his power to get going— before that though, he will tell you both goodbye, add a small kiss on his daughters forehead before giving you a small peck on the lips.
how deeply he wanted to spend the day with you two, maybe walk around fontaine so you could shop around— because last time you did that, you actually found a matching outfit for you and your daughter and wriothesley found it to be one of the cutest, little memories in his mind.
he even took a picture of the two of you and keeps it in his wallet at all times now. who knows but when he feels like it becomes unbearable while being apart from his family, he tends to just look at it and smile.
when wriothesley met you, his live truly has changed forever.
you gave him pure, unfaltering love, deep compassion and of course— a family, something he thought he'd never be able to have.
being a parent certainly wasn't an easy task, and it was important to navigate through future differences that might occur one way or the other, more so seek out a good way to find the best possible solution for everybody involved.
not only for your marriage sake, but for your own childs sake— and wriothesley cannot wait to teach her valuable life lessons, about giving love to the world and the importance of following your dreams, opening his arms for his child with kindness, provide his cute daughter with hope, real hope.
while lastly, make his child excited to see this world and grow up with two wonderful parents that love her so very much.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own
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xxsabitoxx · 6 months
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JJK Men: Who is Most Likely to Have a Daddy Kink
Warning: this contains smut but not like... explicit smut. More so NSFW talk about kinks and such hehe
A/N: Listen... I used to have a real big daddy kink and I grew out of it forever ago... but sometimes y'all use "daddy" just right in some of your fics and it has me kicking my feet. So, for funzies, I wanted to share my personal HCs on who has a daddy kink and who doesn't lol
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Geto Suguru
Sitting pretty and number one is none other than Suguru. Listen, I think this man has a massive daddy kink. I think this man gets off on you calling him daddy in and out of the bedroom. Like honestly? If you are really into it just like he is, he wouldn't mind it if you called him daddy all the time. Like, maybe save for calling him daddy in public or around friends. But in the privacy of your own home? In bed? When no one else can hear you? He'll be putty in your hands if you sweetly call him daddy. Part of the reason I say this is because I think Suguru is 100% a brat tamer, I think he lives for you being a little brat to him just so he can assert his authority over you and put you in your place. He thrives off of the ability to feel superior.
But, roughness aside, he will absolutely give you the best aftercare. Suguru will make sure you know how loved you are, he will constantly ask you for your reassurance that you are alright and he wasn't too hard on you. He'll shower you in love and praise and assure you that you are everything to him. He can get mean when he's in the mood to put you in your place, so he always prioritizes the aftercare.
2. Nanami Kento
I think Nanami has a daddy kink but he's kind of shy about it. Nanami actively hopes that you take the initiative and call him daddy. He's a bit embarrassed about the fact that he really likes the idea of being called daddy. He fantasizes about it when you aren't around to help him get off, stroking himself to the idea of you whispering that one word to him when he fucks you stupid. If you aren't going to take the initiative and call Nanami daddy, he'll eventually give in. He'll likely be balls deep in you when he grits out that you are to call him daddy. He'll be too lost in your body to even feel shame or embarrassment about the request and fuck will he come fast when you finally utter that one pretty word to him. All breathless and fucked out, you'll have Nanami falling apart every time you call him daddy.
Nanami also enjoys alternatives to Daddy, like calling him "sir". Unlike Suguru, he enjoys how respectful it sounds. Nanami won't make you call him daddy or sir outside of the bedroom, it's strictly a sex thing for him unless you express the interest in trying it outside of that scenario. Then, just maybe, Nanami will entertain the thought.
3. Ryomen Sukuna
Before you come and chew me out for the king not being at the top of this list... hear me out. Sukuna is from the Heian period, the man canonically speaks in old Japanese. Hell he asked Megumi to bewitch him. The term "daddy" is a little too new for Sukuna. That's not to say he won't grow to find interest in it. Sukuna much prefers when you call him things like "my king" or "my lord" he even enjoys "sir". But daddy will definitely take some getting used to for him. Once Sukuna gets acquainted with the idea, he will thoroughly enjoy it. He rather likes how flustered you get when you utter the word, making you say it in front of others just to watch them get uncomfortable as you so politely refer to him as daddy. He gets off on the embarrassment more than the word itself, but he does enjoy the nice little ring it has.
Aftercare can be mildly nonexistent with Sukuna. Sometimes his form of aftercare is making you cock-warm him after he just spent hours abusing your most sensitive bits. But other times he'll wrap you in his arms and whisper about how "nobody will ever love you like daddy does." brainwashing you into being content with him.
4. Gojo Satoru
Satoru has mixed feelings about the whole "daddy kink". Depending on your relationship, it may not be rare for you to jokingly call him daddy. Just as he will jokingly call you mommy. But these little "jokes" take a steep turn one night when he's fucking you stupid and he asks you to call him daddy for real. For some reason, it does him in. You'll later learn that you rather enjoy when he calls you mommy while you fuck and then it turns into this awkward little "we shall not speak of this outside of the bedroom" topic. You'll use the words against each other when in public just to see the other get worked up. But, much to Satoru's dismay, he realizes he really does like it when you call him daddy. He can't even explain it, especially since he would relentlessly tease Suguru for having a daddy kink.
Satoru loves aftercare, especially after times when he's punished you. The same can be said for when you provide aftercare after punishing him... having a daddy and a mommy kink is a whirlwind for the two of you. Satoru will clean you up and the tuck both of you in under the nice comfortable blankets, whispering about how he adores you and appreciates you for letting him live out his little fantasies.
5. Fushiguro Toji
Toji isn't really into the daddy kink... mostly because it reminds him of the responsibilities he ran away from... but if you really have a thing for calling him daddy, he's not going to stop you. Toji actually prefers it when you're mean to him, calling him filthy and rude names, belittling him, and calling him a nasty old pervert. He gets off on you being rude to him while he fucks you stupid. Nothing gets him off more than being called a sleazy fucking perv. He doesn't know why but you degrading him will have him blowing his load shamelessly in minutes. But if you really want to call him daddy, Toji will for sure entertain you. Because fuck does he love putting a brat in their place.
When it comes to aftercare, it really depends on your relationship. Toji may just blow his load and then dip, leaving you to clean up and pull yourself together. But if Toji has feelings for you, or if you fucked him really good? He'll clean you up before collapsing in bed beside you.
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ja3yun · 4 months
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Stitch Me Up | L.HS
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underground fighter!heeseung x nurse!reader
warnings: smut (mdni), ex heeseung, unprotected sex, cream pie, weapon and blood mention, if i missed anything lmk!
wc: 4.5k+
synopsis: after a tough shift in the hospital all you wanted was to rid yourself of the tension and your ex turns up just in time
a/n: hi! hope you're all doing well. a quick one shot from me so i hope you like it. not much to say on this one <3 ilysm
Dragging your feet behind you, you unlock your door. Everything that went wrong today could have gone wrong; first, you caught your fingers in the mobile hoist, a patient spat in your face, and you spent the last 30 minutes of your shift cleaning shit from the toilets.
No one ever said being a nurse was a glamorous job, but on days like these, you wish you picked something a little more dignifying. 
You kick your shoes off and head to your bedroom to grab some pajamas. Every bit of you is emotionally and physically drained, this past month has been exhausting. Working 70-hour weeks and being underpaid for it was starting to take its toll on your fragile body.
Nights like these you miss Heeseung, you shouldn’t but you do. 
Picking up scattered clothes that made a mess of your bedroom floor, you groan when your lower back aches. Someone in their 20s shouldn’t be in this much pain. They should be living their best life, staying up late, going out at the weekend, and having a healthy social life. 
You love your job, it’s rewarding and you love to take care of people. Seeing people who are in your ward get better makes your heart feel full like your life is actually worth something and doing some good in this shitty world.
You used to have balance. Heeseung was your balance. 
Sifting through your drawers you find some pink shorts with white love hearts and a cropped white tank top. Usually, you would settle for a set of sweats and a baggy t-shirt but after practically spending 3 days straight in unflattering scrubs you wanted something pretty.
When you walk you can feel the pain in your feet, and blisters start to form. You needed this shower asap. Luckily the bathroom is less than 5 steps away from your bedroom door so you can keep your hobbling to a minimum. The shower is so enticing as you switch the button on and set the temperature just right, or in your case, scolding hot.
A roasting hot shower is what you need to forget today. You need Heeseung’s hands to melt away the pain.
You miss him.
Heeseung and you have been broken up for precisely 1 month and 13 days. For some reason today you can’t shake him off your mind. 
The water cascades down your skin, tiny droplets sit on your face as you wash your hair. The smell of coconut fills the tiny box bathroom and for the first time today, you feel content.
After you rinse the conditioner from your hair and wash your body with a matching scented soap, you pull the shower curtain back and step out carefully - the last thing you need is to fall and break a bone.
Wiping the mirror to rid it of the steam you stare at yourself. The dark circles under your eyes and the redness of your cheeks showcase just how tired your body is. Nothing an overpriced and overrated skincare routine can’t fix. You grab the cleanser and start your regime. It reminds you of him, how he used to always help you, the pads of his fingers gently rubbing the product into your skin, and when he had any left over he would use it on himself. He looked so cute and sweet during those times.
What is with you today? Why do you keep thinking about him?
Quickly, you dry your hair and body with the towel and get ready for bed. Typically, you would sit up and watch an episode or two of Brooklyn 99 but honestly, you’re too burnt out to enjoy it.
As you leave the bathroom there is a knock at the door and you freeze on sight. It’s late and none of your friends would come over, so your brain goes into panic mode. Being a girl alone in her flat was scary enough these days never mind taking in the factor of the time. All the lights are off so hopefully if you just stay still, they’ll leave.
Another knock.
Grabbing a coat hanger from the clothesline in the bathroom you arm yourself with it, it would do enough damage to the person on the other side of the door if you had to escape. 
So you couldn’t second guess yourself, you briskly tiptoed to the door and swung it open, hanger tightly in your grip ready to swing.
The figure turns around and jumps, backing up when they see the coathanger ready to be lobbed at their face.
“Woah, Y/N. It’s just me.” He puts his hands in front of him in defense.
Heeseung.
You breathe out and relax, dropping your arms to your side. Although your exterior seems to have gotten over the fright, your heart is thumping still. That could be because when you look him in the eyes finally you register who he is.
“Heeseung it’s past midnight, what are you doing here?” 
He steps forward and you see his face battered and bruised, his lip has been bust open and a black eye forming on the left side of his face, he was a mess. There have been countless times he’s looked like this, it’s how you two met.
A year ago there was a knock on your door, not unlike tonight, except that time your friend Jongseong was carrying a half-to-life version of Heeseung. The boy couldn’t stand on his own two feet.
“Y/N, sorry, I didn’t know where to go, he didn’t want to go to the hospital,” Jongseong explained, although it didn’t clear anything up.
“What the fuck, Jongie, who is this?” You grab the other side of the spent boy and sit him down on the couch, “What happened to him?” Looking at the guy in front of you, you see the blood on his t-shirt, slash marks on his arms, and his face is blown out.
Jongseong rushes to get the first aid kit from your bathroom, “He was fighting tonight and some arsehole pulled a knife on him, and got him in the stomach a few times,” You lift the fabric covering his torso and see wounds bleeding, “I tried to pull him out of the fight but he wasn’t having it.”
You don’t know a lot about Jongseong’s work life, all you know is that by day he’s a simple office body, filling, paperwork, a pen pusher of sorts. But when night came he was an underground fighter, all of it illegal, but he fell into it with some guys at the gym. From what you hear he is pretty good at it.
“Heeseung, buddy?” Jongseong slaps the boy's face a few times, “Stay awake, this is Y/N, she’s a nurse.” So his name was Heeseung.
“Jongie, these are pretty serious, he needs to go to the hospital.”
“No hospital.” Heeseung coughs out. You suppose if you take him to A&E how could any of them explain what happened? 
You rub his legs to soothe him, “Okay, no hospital.” 
That night you stitched his wounds and cleaned him up. Obviously, he survived, and you took him in like an injured winged bird. Let him stay at yours for 2 weeks, and by the time he was ready to fly away back into the world, you wanted him to stay forever.
You look him up and down to take in his outfit, he wasn’t wearing sweats so this wasn’t a scheduled fight, instead, he was clad in jeans, a White Stripes t-shirt, and a loose-fitting leather jacket, “What the fuck happened, Heeseung?” 
“Is it lame if I say you should see the other guy?” He laughs but nothing is funny. 
Stepping aside you let him into your flat which he does like second nature, his shoes left exactly where they used to go, “Heeseung you can’t just come here looking like this and not tell me what happened.” On autopilot, you go to get the first aid kit.
He takes a seat on your kitchen counter and looks around, “Nothing much happened, some guys being dicks.” 
You come back from the bathroom and see him atop your kitchen, “Eh, get down from there. Now.” He always perched himself on anything but a seat. It didn’t bother you too much but right now after your shift, you couldn’t be arsed to pander to it, “Try and treat my place with a bit of respect please.”
Heeseung jumps off and walks to take a seat on the edge of your couch. It might be wrong of you to think it but he does look beautiful like this. You blame Leon Kennedy in Resident Evil for your attraction to busted up men.
As you open the first aid kit you feel his eyes on you, “Why did you come here, Heeseung? You could have treated this yourself.”
“I missed you.” He confesses and it’s true he did miss you. 
For the past month he’s been throwing himself into fights he knows he won’t win just to feel something other than heartache. In spite of his cold attitude and reckless behaviour, he held your love so gently in his heart that he couldn’t even act tough around you. From the first day he laid eyes on you, he knew you had to be his, and if that meant opening up his heart, that’s what he did. 
A first he thought it was because you were fixing his wounds and he owed you something but that thought quickly vanished when you fixed more than that. 
“Heeseung, we broke up. It’s done.” You say coldly. With the thoughts of missing him earlier still fresh in your brain, you had to nip this in the bud.
When you broke up with Heeseung it wasn’t exactly because you wanted to, it was to protect yourself. His lifestyle and yours don’t mix, he was always getting into trouble and you were trying to avoid it at all costs. But more importantly than that, you couldn’t see the man you love come home every night exactly how he is now, broken and beaten. 
The deeper into the fight circuit Heeseung got, the more dangerous it was. People were pulling knives, guns, and bringing back up, all for the sake of making sure their bosses won the bets. Your ex-boyfriend was a great fighter - or so you’ve heard, he never let you come to any of the fights - but these other guys played dirty and it was a threat to his life. 
So when you asked him to stop and he said no, you did what you had to and called it off. You lost sleep, precious never to be taken for granted sleep, every night he fought and it was taking its toll on you. You tried to compromise with him and pleaded with him to go back to the regulated (if you could even call them that) fights, the ones where the stakes are lower.
However, Heeseung was above that now, too much of a hot commodity. 
“Baby, I’m making us enough money so you don’t have to do so much overtime.”
“Seungie, I’m a nurse, all we do is overtime. Plus, this shouldn’t be about the money, it’s about your safety.” Your voice is cracking with every sentence you have uttered tonight, but he still won’t listen, “I’m not asking you to give it up, but please stop taking these high-stakes fights, you’re going to get killed.”
Heeseung scoffs and places a hand on your shoulder, “I won’t die, I’ve got you to stitch me up.”
“No, Seungie, you don’t. I can’t do this anymore.”
It was a brutal way to end it, none of you walked into that conversation expecting that outcome, but for you, it was the only thing you could do.
Soaking a cotton pad with some anti-septic, you place it gently on his lip, a hiss from him following your action, “Sorry.” You whisper. A sorry for the pain but also for breaking up with him. No matter how much you knew it was right for you, you knew it was hard on him. Opening himself up to love you wasn’t easy for Heeseung.
“I’m used to it, baby.” Your heart cries as he calls you baby, it always sounded so perfect coming from him.
“What did the guys do?” You ask and he looks at you with those beautiful eyes, masked behind purple and blue, “You said guys were being dicks, so what did they do?”
He didn’t want to waste energy on it, the fight being over in a flash anyway, “Just stuff. They got a jump on me hence the mess.” He moves his hand to gesture to his face but while his hand is already there, it engulfs yours, the one that’s cleaning the blood from his mouth, “Baby, I didn’t start it.”
“I know, Seungie.” You feel yourself falling back into how it used to be, his thumb running circles into your hand. 
Once you finish up, you place a skin closure strip on his mouth, your thumb rubbing gently to secure it in place. He takes the opportunity to take your thumb into his mouth and you nearly moan at the intimate act. 
But this isn’t how it is now.
“Heeseung.” You warn him. 
He releases your thumb and sighs, “Habit.” He was a man of few words, you knew that, so there was no need to say anything more.
“You should go. Keep it clean, and put some ointment on that black eye.”
“I miss you so fucking much, Y/N.” Ignoring him, you walk into the bathroom to return the first aid kit, “Don’t you miss me?”
It almost makes you laugh. You missed him more than anything, so much so that after the shitshow that was today all you could think about was him. All you wanted was for him to wrap you in his arms and tell you everything is fine, but that is a wish that can’t be a reality anymore. 
“It’s not about missing you Heese-”
“I’ll quit.” 
You turn the bathroom light off and brush past him, “No, you won’t. We both know it so don’t lie to me, don’t start that now.” 
Heeseung is a beat behind you when you walk into your bedroom, “Y/N, believe me.” He knew you didn’t need to believe him, there wasn’t even a reason to believe him because he had said this before. But this time is different, “If you just listen to me,”
“No, I don’t think I will.” The stare you have on him is angry, “I offered you a solution for all of this, and honestly? I am so tired of this conversation now. I need you to go.”
Hurt flickers in his eyes, “Baby, I’m miserable without you.”
Agitation builds up inside you. He’s acting like this is solely your fault, like you were the one that caused all this. Granted, you broke up with him but it was after giving him every solution to stop it, “This is not my doing, Seungie, okay?” He wants to retaliate but you snip in before he gets the chance, “You love fighting those losers more than you ever did me, you made that clear.”
He sees red at your allegation. How dare you even think for a second you weren’t his number one. Sure, he didn’t want to give up fighting, it was who he was, but he also didn’t want to lose you, he sees that now. He has to prove to you just how much you mean to him.
Heeseung takes two long strides to you and kisses you hungrily. It’s been so long since he felt your lips in his. The stinging from his wound is dull compared to how he feels to have you like this again, he has a whole month of kisses and fucking to catch up on and nothing will stop him.
“I love you so much don’t you dare fucking say that.” It was a rarity for him to say that he loves you out loud. You knew he did, it was his actions that showed his love more than words, but hearing it made your eyes well with tears. Because he didn’t say it much, you cherished every single time he did.
You fall onto the bed behind you, his weight crashing onto you as you both lose yourselves in the kiss, all that anger and hurt dissipated each of his kisses.
Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you try and deepen the kiss but he pulls away. He takes off his jacket and t-shirt and that’s when you see the bruises dispersed along his chest and torso. This fight must have been a lot more brutal than he let on. 
Sitting up you kiss each bruise while he straddles your lap, gently showing love for each one. The nurse in you wants to tend to them right away, they really did a number on his stomach and you’re slightly concerned about the damage done to his insides. But right now all he needs is a few kisses to make it better.
“They don’t hurt, promise.” He assures you, but if you kiss him too hard, which isn’t hard at all, he winces. To fixate on something other than the pain he whips off your tank top and just the sight of your breasts has him feeling a-okay, “Missed you so much.”
You could laugh at his obvious ogling but with your burnt out body and his just the same, you just needed to feel him, “Seungie, please,” You whine into his right peck as you kiss him over his darkest bruise again.
Heeseung understands your pleas and pushes you flat against the bed before undoing his jeans and not so gracefully kicking them off, “What do you want, baby? I’ll do it all.” 
To quit fighting. That’s what you want to say, but you can’t risk the idea of an argument, not when you’re so close to having him inside you again, “Fuck me, Heeseung. Please.”
This is all he’s been dreaming about since you told him to go. Your love wasn’t the only thing he craved. 
Dipping his head down to yours he kisses you again, his hands dipping into your cute pajama shorts to pull them down, “Can I eat your pussy baby?”
You would love nothing more than to feel his tongue all over you but you are truly exhausted, “I have had such a hard shift Seungie, just need your cock to make me feel better.” You’re lifting your hips into his as you say this, staring into his eyes to let him know he has to do this soon or you’ll crash.
“Okay, baby.” He brings two of his fingers to your folds to assess how easy you could take him. You’re wet but you could be wetter for him. Heeseung is an average size but if you’ve been without sex for a month like he had hoped you’d need a little more. 
He clambers over you to reach the top drawer and grab some lube. His cock is basically in your face so who were you to not have a taste of it? You sit up on your elbows and your mouth engulfs his member. He's so shocked by the sudden action he nearly drops the bottle, “Shit, baby.” His free hand finds its way into your hair as you bob up and down his shaft, “Missed that mouth of yours.” He breathes out, “Missed it sucking me off, missed it saying my name, fuck I even missed it bossing me around.” 
Pulling back you look at him with an unamused look but he uses it as an excuse to kiss you once again. 
Slithering down to his previous position he coats his cock with some of the lube, sparing some for your hole, slipping a finger into you to slick your inner walls with it. You turn into a moaning mess as you feel his fingers for the first time in so long, your hips involuntarily buck up.
“I’ll only be a minute, baby.” Once he feels satisfied you won’t feel any pain, he slides his finger out and rubs the head of his cock on your pussy. He isn’t even teasing you but you feel like he is with how long he is taking.
Abruptly, he pushes into your heat, the feeling of you around him makes his head spin. No one will ever feel as good as you, that’s why he’s willing to do anything to have you, “So good,” he exhales, “So fucking good, baby.” Bottoming out, he can’t stop a loud groan from erupting out his mouth. You’ve missed the sound so much.
He starts to thrust into you at a fast pace once he knows your walls have settled, each hit making the room fill with sounds of skin slapping and curses. With the way he’s fucking you, you would think you hadn’t seen each other in years, but he craves you so much that even one day without the option of you around his cock was unbearable. 
“Shit, Seungie please go faster.” He listens to you and picks up the pace, knowing how tired you are he needs to get you off quickly. 
Between your thighs, his hand finds your clit as he starts to rub it harshly. You look unreal right now, with your mouth open and head thrown back into the mattress.
Lifting your right leg over your shoulder he reaches a deeper spot, his cock pounding into you with ferocity it makes you squeeze around him, “Oh fuck, baby, do that again.” You squeeze his shaft with your walls again, “Fucking pussy feels like heaven.” He whispers to himself.
His hips keep a harsh rhythm, the sharpness of each thrust sending you more and more over the edge, “Close.” Is all you say.
“Yeah? Gonna cum for me, baby?” he smirks, happy knowing that he’s about to feel your ecstasy around him, “Cum for me, Y/N.”
And just like that your pussy comes undone on his dick that is still mercilessly pummeling into you. A loud mewl draws out your mouth and your hands grab onto the duvet under you, he’s making you feel bliss right now. 
Heeseung can feel himself getting closer and if he wants full satisfaction he needs to cum now while your walls are contracting thoughtlessly, he needs you to milk his cock dry.
Feeling him lose his rhythm a little you know he just needs a little something to bring him over the edge, “Seungie, need your cum so bad.” He loved it when you begged for his seed.
“Yeah? How bad?”
“I’m starving for it.”
The last few words have his hips stuttering and ropes of his cum shooting into you, filling you up just how you like it.
You’ve finally regained composure from your own high and just in time to see his slack jaw and eyes screwed shut. He was one of the few people that looked good when they orgasmed and you loved when you got to see him in all his glory.
Heeseung falls onto you briefly to catch his breath, the pain from his stomach coming back slowly but that doesn’t matter right now, “Let me clean you up.” He slides out of you and goes to get supplies to look after you.
Because your job requires you to look after everyone around you, it was nice how Heeseung would do aftercare so well, making sure you’re okay.
He takes a while but as he comes back he’s holding a damp cloth and bottle of water in one hand and a cup of tea in the other, “Sit up for me baby.” 
After placing the tea and water on the bedside table he starts to run the cloth along your sensitve area. He loved to see you full of his cum, every time the white substance would leak from you he felt a bit of pride so washing it away like this was mourningful.
“I have quit.” He says lowly, “Fighting, I mean. I quit this morning.”
“But you only said you would quit earlier?” You question, recalling the previous conversation.
“I wanted to see if you would believe me.”
You’re dubious, not understanding what he’s saying, “You can’t just quit like that, Seungie. You told me it wasn’t that easy.” 
And it wasn’t. It’s not like you can hand in a two week notice and call it a day, there are too many stakeholders involved, too much money being thrown around to just up and off.
“Yeah, you can see it wasn’t so painless.” He finishes cleaning you off and goes to place the rag in the washing basket.
“What do you mean?” As he walks into the room you see his bruises again and it all hits you at once, “The guys being dicks…”
Heeseung nods and jumps back into his boxers but not anything else with the hopes you want him to stay, “Told them I wasn’t doing it anymore and next thing I know I’m on the floor.” He laughs embarrassed at the memory.
This was technically your fault, you asked him to stop the high stake fights and this is what happened. 
Seeing your face, Heeseung sits on the bed next to you and cups your cheek, “Hey, no, I know what you’re thinking but you didn’t make me quit. I chose too. This is my doing”
“But I asked you to.” You look down and trace over his bruises lightly.
“Yeah, but I said no at first.” His hand runs into your damp hair, “I decided to quit this morning because losing you isn’t worth it. I meant it when I said i’m fucking miserable.” 
Sighing you fear this happiness in your chest is going to disappear at any moment, “It’s what you love though, Seungie.”
“I love you.” He hates that you have this preconceived notion that somehow he loves fighting more than you, “And I know I should have said it more when we were together but, baby, give me another chance so I can keep saying it.” 
You want to cry again, “Have you actually quit? No more fights?”
He places his hand on his heart, “I quit, promise. The only fights now will be with guys who stare at you too long.” 
Laughing, you remember a time he clocked two guys out for even offering you a drink. Heeseung has always been protective of you, that’s why you missed him so much today. Coming home after a grueling shift made you want nothing more than for him to hold you.
He’s offering you that chance again and you can’t turn it down, “I love you, Heeseung.”
“Fuck, baby, I love you too.” His lips are on yours again as he pours his love into you, his devotion.
Heeseung wasn’t letting you go again. Not for any fight in the world.
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