#oh look tired is inconsistent again

[iznsfw]

Lucid Dream

IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 7 - Kim Minju

IZ*ONE's Kim Minju x Male Reader Smut

8,525 words

Categories | married man!You, wife!Wonyoung, daddy kink, degradation, rough sex, OC is not a good person

Content warning | cheating, humiliation, Wonyoung slander (it hurt to write but I read "Gone Girl" by Gillian Flynn recently so I guess that went into the whole wife-hating thing)

Skipping again a bit (still will do Chaeyeon and Chaewon and everyone because IZ*ONE best girls). Expect a commission and an IZ Days of Xmas fics this month again <3 I love you all, you make me happy. And as always, sorry for the inconsistency!

Wonyoung is beautiful.

You stare at her as she undresses in front of the full-length mirror. She’s the kind of woman whose vanity seldom rolls eyes because her adoration for herself—smoothing down her dark hair, strictly adhering herself to that keto diet, doing her skincare with the dedication of one who prays nightly to god (pick any)—is wholly justifiable. Look at her. Anyone would understand.

The dress she wore for her hosting show slips off her body. Her abs reflect in the mirror, the result of hard work in the gym. Wonyoung’s waist is impeccable. Magazines have written over and over tips to attain it but it seems that the signature Bratz doll feature can only belong to Wonyoung. The makeup was cleaned up by her stylist but her eyes still shine, her lashes are still long, and her lips are still plump.

Wonyoung is standing there in nothing but her underwear, an attractive set of lace. 

Wonyoung is the perfect female form, a goddess from above choosing a man from below.

Wonyoung is beautiful, a feat that no matter how amazing besides true, she remains the same old fucking bore.

“Did you like my MCing, babe?” she asks.

“Uh-huh.”

Her legs, long and thin, move in planned strides down the room. To the bed. You know where this is going.

Your feet are killing you. Recline, welcoming yourself into the softness of the expensive mattress and pillows your wife paid for all in all. “Wonyoung, I’m tired.” 

She’s a celebrity. Of course, endless days filled to the edge with schedules chase after her. She ought to understand. The nights are her only rest hours, yet with this energy, it’s like Jang Wonyoung never gets exhausted. Always bubbly, always sweet, always so seductive. 

All these are positive traits that any other man would adore and own had you not married her. 

Wonyoung makes an adorable sigh. “But you say that everytime,” she replies sullenly.

She’s pushing her lips out into this cute pout while her brown puppy eyes beg you to give in like you used to. Once upon a time, you were putty around Wonyoung. Never could give an answer without your voice shaking. Never could come near her without blushing. 

She’s the prettiest woman in the world.

You’re the most awful, undeserving man in the world, for all you could think, as you look at her, is: Fucking bitch. 

“Well, maybe it’s because I’m always tired.”

“How about,” she puts a finger on her chin, “I do the job for you?”

Her knees are bruised. You notice this when she drops to them so she could pull your pants to the ground. So she’s been doing this for so long? Lowering herself for you? Sucking you off? You thought that she’d get the hint by now: you don’t want to have sex with her.

So instead, she uses her mouth. Better than her pussy anyway. What are you saying? She’s a tight woman. But it’s the same thing everyday: she gets on your cock and you hear her annoying voice straining as she rides you. Her cunt, soaked and useless, makes you want to call her its name. She’s always needy. It isn’t flattering when you don’t reciprocate it.

It’s a goddamned chore. Wonyoung’s throat welcomes you. The other way around, actually: your cock welcomes a claustrophobically closed passageway and has to deal with it until you cum. It’s an unwanted visitor. She rang the bell, said hi, and you let her in. Doesn’t mean you like her there.

“Doing so good, baby,” you say. Oh, yeah, doesn’t mean you mean it either—although you do feel Wonyoung smile happily. She’s happy when she makes you happy. When she makes you give her the illusion that you have any happiness in this worn-out marriage.

Her lips seal around you. You can feel them suckling. Your knees are tense. The moans are forced, though. Hearing them come out from your own mouth makes you want to place a pillow over your face and press it down as hard as you can.

She slides you down her throat. Admittedly, you love the way she chokes. Her eyes get all watery, like she’s crying from pain. That sounds appealing. 

You’re a critically messed up man, you know. But they’re what make the world go ‘round. Why do you think they write romance books about them—the bad boy, the mafia boss, the killer? Plus, one of those “terrible” people inspires the biggest Korean celebrity to continue hosting, dancing, and singing. So who’s so terrible now?

To conclude, if anything, you’re the one responsible for Wonyoung’s success.

To conclude, you groan as desperately as you can then release in her mouth. Wonyoung gags. Another pretty sound. Her eyes look up while she attempts to swallow. Saliva sticks to her chin. Semen floods up to the roof of her mouth. It reminds you of how it ends up there more often than in her womb.

You would’ve made beautiful children with Wonyoung in another world where she wasn’t famous and you actually loved her. You would have been a softer, kinder man. She would have been a person who’s easier to love and make love with.

“Wonyoung, Wonyoung, that… was incredible.”

If you weren’t a director, you’d be the one on camera. You’re a great actor when it comes to your wife. Your incompetence in the house is masked by husbandly exhaustion; an artificial gaze of attentiveness hides your indifference to conversation. 

She smiles coquettishly. “I try.”

The wide closet parts. She chooses a pair of silk pajamas that hang around her thin frame. She climbs onto the bed and wraps an arm around you. Her skin is always cold to the touch. Like she’s dead or something. How interesting.

You stroke her hair. “I’d return the favor but… I’m actually gonna pass out. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She kisses your forehead. Wonyoung’s a sweet girl. “Good night.”

You smile. Say it back. Her eyelids flutter closed. Her palms are flat against each other and are placed under her cheek. Cute, you guess. She sleeps. 

You don’t. 

You should have—nothing good ever happens after midnight.

-

2:05 a.m., more specifically.

-

Amazing how time slips through your grasp like air. You reach and reach, desperate for a return, desperate for a flash to the past. As always, your efforts aren’t fruitful. The seconds pour through the pinched waist of the hourglass and you can’t stand it on its other head. You’re unable to revert back to the moment you took your arm from underneath your wife’s skull. The moment you opened your phone. If you hadn’t, maybe things would have been different.

But it’s past two, and you’re resting your back on the pillowy headboard with your phone in your hands. The circumstances just play right into danger: Wonyoung’s asleep, the night is eerily quiet, and the screen is there, awaiting the secret routine. Which girls would you cum for today? Why aren’t your thumbs clicking over censored sites?

Your feed shows a naked woman, her eyes staring up and her mouth wide. Scroll past that—you prefer the amateur videos, where the expressions balance between exaggerated and naturally provoked. A ton of videos could help in the bathroom where you take your nightly “shower,” and it’s not one of those.

Maybe you need the real thing.

Look at Wonyoung. Perhaps you should have let her ride you just so you could cum in a warm pussy again. After all, it’s the least you could do when you were once a fan of her. That’s how everyone starts: puppy-like adoration. But she doesn’t have the star quality she once did onstage; the coy thoughtful princess you envisioned her as. That’s why you haven’t fucked her in weeks. 

You’re about to wrap your hand around your cock and ready yourself for another night of conflicted pleasure. This video is perfect for that already. You could jerk yourself off then get a good night’s sleep. Simple. This is the safest option for a dangerous want. By just watching, you’re not cheating on your wife. It’s just porn. Jerk off, cum, cum again probably, then sleep. Nobody gets hurt.

“Fuck me… please,” whimpers the woman in the video. Her legs are spread open. Her partner’s swiping his cock at her lips while she looks at him with equal hunger, equal desire. “I can’t take it anymore.”

Then, a text message notifies you, peeking from the top of your screen. It dares you to click it.

And it says the exact same thing.

fuck me please, i cant take it anymore. 

i miss you 

You look around, like you’re afraid someone might see it. There’s only the dimness of your bedroom that greets you. It’s safe, but this message isn’t. 

The number is familiar. Has one of your friends gone crazy? Or did they send a text to the wrong person? Take it for spam, a perfectly coincidental one, or a scam, a typical, preying-on-the-married, pwning message.

But why would a contact spam you at a time so strangely perfect?

Don’t bother. Your fist works on your dick as you watch the video. The woman’s so wet that although she isn’t squirting, her juices start to stick to the man’s thighs. Her mouth is wide open as he finally pounds her. 

What you’d give to have good sex like that again. 

XXX-XXX-XXX sent a video message.

Fine. Click it, you’re curious.

Oh, so apparently, the answer is your marriage.

The video shows a face that’s more intimate than familiar. The ebony-black hair already tells you who she is, as does her body. Her form is encased in a floral tank top and nothing else. Although her chest is covered, she’s still a little daring with how her nipples stamp the fabric. She turns herself around to let you admire the curve of her wide hips and her round butt.

There’s only one woman with a body so perfect. And she’s the one and only Kim Minju.

There are reasons for everything. This is yours for why you didn’t give this number a name: 

No one needs to know just from a text that you cheated on Jang Wonyoung.

That was so long ago, back when you were still boyfriend and girlfriend. You were drunk and missed Wonyoung’s old self. Why did she have to be such a bitch? Why did she dedicate herself to work and leave you dry? It’s not like the industry would go bankrupt without her. Minju came over, listened to your complaints—every little whine about Wonyoung being busy, every little jab at her workaholic character—then said something along the lines of, why don’t you have a little fun while she’s away. 

And you thought… yeah, that was a really great idea. 

That was the beginning of the end. After multiple secret meet-ups and raunchy sex in alleyways, you didn’t contact Minju again. You forgot her. You thought she did, too. She should have understood that your infidelity, albeit alluring, would be a thing of the past. 

But here she is, in your messages, with a pornographic clip of herself in a round-cornered bubble. She’s waiting for a reply. 

Although you’ve long lost your aspirations to be a better husband, you type what a good man should. This man is proper, faithful, and loving. He loves his wife only and the only other people he loves with this deep of a bond is his family. 

Stop texting me or I’ll block you. 

It’s not enough. You’re not a good man. You aren’t proper or faithful or loving or any of that shit. You were about to masturbate to an internet celebrity after turning down sex with your wife. What about that makes you a good person?

:( you miss me sooooo bad it’s pathetic, Minju replies.

You look at her again. You may not be able to turn back time with your metaphorical hourglass, but you can turn this hourglass body into any position you want. You could push her against a window for all to see, perhaps fuck her to the floor, or slam her on a desk like a teacher would to a test paper. Minju would let you do anything to her.

Stop it.

She really has to. As much as you dislike Wonyoung, she’s your wife, and you vowed on your wedding day to only have eyes for her. 

But you’re only one man against a body like Minju’s that curves in every right place.

Three circles float up and down in a contained bubble before she texts you back:

alright…what a pity :( i’m already outside!! i guess ill have to go back…

You’ve never bolted out of bed so fast. 

You look back at Wonyoung as you stand in the doorway. She’s still in deep slumber. Now, are the curtains closed? The entrances locked? Scan the house thoroughly, until you inch your way to the front door. 

Hesitate. You didn’t know you had a conscience but here it is. It tells you to wonder if Minju really is behind it, like she said. She knows how to use the privilege of being Wonyoung’s close friend. That’s how she came to your house like she used to with no worry for paparazzi or suspicion. Best friends don’t fuck their best friends’ husbands, right?

Open the door. This one did.

Minju grew more beautiful in her absence. Her hair is silkier this time and her shy smile is brighter. The long coat is smoothed by her fingers, and you wish you could be the brown piece of fabric her pale hands run down. What makes you guilty for thinking it, even when you’ve done it, is the fact that she looks so innocent. It’s like it would be a crime to even buy her a drink. 

How could she be innocent with that photo she sent? The time you spent together: you folding her over a table and promising to fill her up? Fucking her while Wonyoung is busy and counting on you to welcome her home? Sending nudes like there’s no tomorrow? Nothing about Minju is pure, yet she acts like she could do no wrong.

“Minju,” you say. Your voice sounds fragile. She has a way of breaking you befote you’re breaking her into breaking another bed. 

She blinks theatrically. Everything she does is angelic. “Glad you opened the door.”

The knob is cold in your fist. It chills your animalistic brain and urges you to consider the consequences. Right, it says, here’s what a human—a good one—would think. If Wonyoung wakes and sees you with Minju, she’d have a lot of questions. If paparazzi are somehow hiding in the forest that extends to acres before your house, everyone would know you’re cheating on her. Most of all, you’re married, monogamy and everything. 

So what will it be? This is your last and only chance to send her away.

You know what you have to do. Take a few breaths. “You have to leave. I’m not joking, it isn’t right.”

In response, Minju unravels the ribbon of the layers sealed around her waist. It falls apart. You do, too.

She’s a real danger. As it turns out, the girl isn’t wearing anything underneath that trench coat. She’s an artist’s naked muse—bare long legs, wide hips, and a sizable bust that has sculptors carving something else.

The cold hardens her pink nipples. You notice how her breasts are much bigger than your wife’s. How her hips are more tempting to grab, so you do. How her body is meatier, a lot more enticing that you wouldn’t refuse a day without touching it.

Minju fuels your infidelity, and you won’t stop for it if it kills you.

She simpers, fingers curling into your work shirt. “Still wanna make me leave,” she asks, “when you can breed me all night long?”

You laugh, huffing it out as you pull her inside and close the door behind her. Minju looks gorgeous pressed to it. She looks gorgeous in whatever situation, actually. Her thighs squish against the carved design and look thicker as a result. More reasons to dive into that shaven cunt and abuse it.

“You’re not leaving until we make a fucking mess, Minju.” You take your shirt off. Throw it on the ground. “And we better make it quick.”

“Of course.” She nods. She’s slyer than a fox, but she submits to you without a second thought.

You lean in to kiss her. The heat is unbearable. You can feel it from Minju’s body transferring to yours. It’s the effect of her natural skills as your personal slut: trying to fit her tongue deeper in your mouth while you pull her close like she’d dare to run away. 

You haven’t gotten this hard for anyone else. It’s always been Minju you fall for. You miss the way she kisses, the way she roams her hands all over your torso, the way she’s goddamned insatiable. Feeling it all now in one, heated moment makes you dizzy. You’re taking in too much of her, but without her, you’d go thirsty again. 

Your fingers are in her hair; hers are on your waist. Your teeth are clamped down on Minju’s bottom lip; hers are apart and allow soft moans to pass through—one, two, three. You fit each other in so many wicked ways. They did say misery loves company.

Open your eyes. The dream doesn’t stop. Minju’s still pushing her mouth in your face and you’re letting her. You don’t know if you ought to be relieved or downright horrified. You’re cheating on Wonyoung again with a woman whose body is just a bit nicer. You should be furious at yourself. You aren’t.

You’ve made out with each other on the way to the dining room. You and your wife worked hard for its designed walls and sturdy, well-furnished ornaments. A lot of money was raked out to make this house the best place to call home. So, why do you want to ruin it?

Well, because of her.

Minju leans on the dining table with a funny smile on her face. “She really doesn’t do it for you, huh?” she asks.

It makes you wince how you know who she’s talking about. Who else is she referring to other than poor Wonyoung? Poor, skinny, ugly Wonyoung?

Nibble at her earlobe. Hear little gasps come out of her. “Don’t talk about her,” you say.

You don’t want to have any afterthoughts about fucking Minju. Besides, being reminded that you’re disloyal to a woman who loves you very much is painful, even to a man like you.

Wonyoung is an angel. Minju isn’t—but you run after her to darkness.

“Ohh, come on, I know I’m better than her.” Minju squirms with erotic moans. Your kisses are going south, and she loves their little detour. “You don’t fuck her like you fuck me.”

When was the last time you worshiped Wonyoung? Like what you’re doing to Minju now? Your lips haven’t passed over it in ages that you probably wouldn’t know where the bigs and smalls of her body are. Like there’s anything to know. 

“Actually,” you snort, “I don’t fuck her at all.”

You stop chuckling. That was the wrong thing to say. That was the wrongest thing to say out of the millions of other cocky phrases you could’ve thrown to Minju. The look on her face, the one that’s of pride and submission and dangerous knowledge united, tells you to watch your mouth. 

You’re five seconds minimum too late to listen. 

Minju grins. There’s the answer she wanted. “That’s how it is? Just looking at a girl and thinking you wanna stamp a divorce approval on her forehead? Jesus. This is why I never got married.”

“First off, nobody put a ring on you because you’re a slut, Minju.”

“That’s only the third reason.” Her fingers drape the sides of your face and tugs you in. You’re invited to the sight of her infallible tits. “These are the first two.”

The girl isn’t as busty as that woman Wonyoung likes to call her industry mom, but you bet they’re better. No, it’s a matter of truth. Minju’s boobs aren’t too big or too small; just the perfect, filling size to hold onto when you’re railing her from behind.

You choose to suck on them for now. It’s like a trip down memory lane when you kiss down her neck and collarbone. You remember how good her smooth, soft skin feels beneath you, how her moans are a favorite tune. Minju bites her lip while you do so to her shoulder.

It’s crazy to think that she just so happened to be born with this. She was born to be a pretty face with a sex-defined body that you pull and push and pry apart. Best thing is, she’ll lay back down and beg for more. It’s like she knows her purpose, which would’ve shot down her dignity and humanity.

Her nipple pops in your mouth. Your sucking guarantees its hardness, and Minju starts whining. She arcs her body, wanting something rougher. Thus, you seize the span of her hip to rub her pearl with fierce speed.

“Oh, fuck, god—” What others might take for blasphemy, you take for praise. Minju’s already soaking wet. She would have had embarrassing laundry to do if she wore panties. Maybe it’s a good thing she arrived wearing nothing.

She’s still so sensitive. You caress her clit after a few kisses down her midriff. She fidgets needily like you aren’t already touching her. You’re nearly right—this touch is nothing when she needs something harsher. That something involves you treating her less than a human being, putting her down and tearing at her hair. 

“Please just fuck me,” she whispers. “Breed me, breed me, breed me—”

Yeah, that’s what she wants.

You don’t need further motivation, not when you’re presented with the prettiest pussy you’ve ever seen. Her fat lips are soaked. They frame the clitoris you’ve been stimulating that shines with slick. Then there’s the tiniest hole below it that begs to be used.

Your digits shove past all tightness. Her wetness allows a deeper exploration, so you curl your digits like you’re beckoning the orgasm forward. You know how easily you can get it out of her. All it needs to get Minju cumming around you is a slap, roughness, and giving her what she wants anyway. You know your methods, she knows hers. It’s a recognizable cycle that despite this, you can’t break.

Part your fingers widely to spread her. She’s so wet that she soaks your knuckles. There’s an ocean inside her waiting to be waved to shore. A storm, too, brews from the base of her throat as Minju whimpers. Her body lifts off the table but you force her down on it. She isn’t going anywhere, not without a fight.

Oh, and fight she does. She was an idol before an actress, so her muscles still memorize the circling motions that repeat on your fingers rather than move onstage. She sang once. That was a long time ago yet her voice sounds perfect as it strains her moans. Every little thing she does is a reflection of her past. 

That’s why when she leans back, pupils dilating north, and says “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” you get deja vu.

Your palm hits her clit, adding impact to your strokes. “There you go, little slut,” you snarl. “Are you happy now? Maybe even a little grateful?”

If Minju’s ass isn’t pressed down on the glass mantling your dining table, it hovers so her pink little hole receives you better. It’s not without the help of her weak hands clinging to the table for dear life, but she seems to be losing her balance. Her hips are shuddering. Her beautiful face is squeezed up into a blissful wince. Her breaths are becoming blunt little gasps that say none of the gratitude you want to hear.

You slap her boob. Red blooms from her pale skin that deepens when another impacts her bosom. The recoil dizzies you. If anyone’s getting the impression that you’ll slap her bouncy tits until you hear a proper word of thanks, they’d be right. First impressions are right just for once.

“T-thank you—” Her voice cracks, breaking like her. “Fuck, shit, thank you, thank you.”

Squeeze her cruelly and pull on the perky nipple. Your thrusts become mindlessly paced. Your hand returns to your cock while the other ruins her pussy. The pleasure is telepathic. It’s connecting you; her screams and squirms make you do the same. The electricity firing up in your veins is a shared network. When you point your fingers to her spot, she arcs her back in the same direction. How beautifully fucked up is that? 

“That’s not enough. You didn’t come here for nothing. What do you want, Minju?”

Minju babbles. You got your gratitude but not a proper answer. To be fair, she can’t speak when you’re fucking her like it’s your dick inside her, and when your lips are all over her collarbone. 

“And you better keep quiet,” you add, curling your thrusts, “or Wonyoung‘s gonna hear. Do you really want her to know her precious friend is a big slut?”

However, despite the rumors she starts, Minju could be a very good girl when needed. 

“Need you to make me cum,” she whispers. Her midriff is fluid as water with the way it rolls, showing off the hourglass shape of her waist and a soft tummy. “Do everything to me you can’t with Wonyoung. P-please, I can’t take it.”

Even if she can’t (wrong by the way), you’ll make her. She asked for it. She walked up to your house with a purpose: to be used, to be treated like less of a human being. So it’s understandable that you slam her down the table and seal a hand around her neck. 

She’s so light that the forceful push doesn’t break the fragile glass. But there’s something of hers instead that’s going to be broken.

“Oh fuck! It’s so–” Minju’s eyes roll back. “Ohh… oh!”

Little sparks of wetness shoot in the air. Your pace turns merciless. With just three fingers, you puppet her body. Strings are pulled—her arms raise and her long legs strain to pull you in. You push and she keens, you pull and she yells. You’re making her desecrate the place with her water.

“C-can’t breathe.” A squeeze of her beautiful features—eyelids wrinkling, mouth parting, cheeks filling with scarlet—occurs before she squirts again. She whimpers pathetically, sounding so pitiful you want to laugh. “Ah, fuck, daddy—”

Something stirs inside you. When men hear that name, it ought to feel purely platonic and familial. They’d hear it from their daughter and feel compelled to protect them from men who’d do to them what you do to Minju. But you much prefer hearing that two-syllable word when it comes from a naked woman squirting all over the floor, from whom once you register it, you’re urged to pin her down, tie her down, hold her down.

Ironically, you release her. That isn’t because it’s over though. “On your knees. Follow me.”

Minju releases a gasp, grateful for the oxygen. The color returns to her face yet she barely has the energy to get off the table. You’re a generous man, and hey, it still counts as helping. So you yank her hair and force her on the ground. She fucking moans, a feat deserving of a healthy spank to her ass.

You walk to the living room. She follows you withher hands and knees bearing the cold tiles. You lead her to the place where you spend your time watching movies, rehearsing, and hanging out with Wonyoung if she’s ever home.

Speaking of, glance at the door of your bedroom. It’s still closed. It’ll stay that way.

Look down after wondering why Minju’s noisier. She’s playing with herself on the floor with no care for the cold chill of the tiles or the little dirt wedged between them. She lightly rubs her abused clit, quivering at the contact. You expect that from her—she’s corrupted, an irredeemable cause. She’ll get herself off anytime anywhere.

But what’s unexpected is what those watery eyes are focused on: you, in a framed picture on the wall. You look younger, happier. You’re in formal garments standing next to Wonyoung in a church.

It was you on your wedding day.

You spit on Minju. “Filthy cumslut.”

The drool slides down her cheek like a tear. She darts her tongue out and licks it. One could’ve thought it was candy considering the lift of a smile. 

“I’m sorry, daddy,” she says resolutely. Her fingers still toy with her entrance. They won’t serve her well when there’s a bigger, better thing behind your pants to do it for her.

Your pants are already off. “Get up. Get the fuck up,” you command, but you do it for her. 

You grab her neck and force her up. The look on her face is addicting, the way the shock turns into carnal need, the way she bites her lip. You press her to the wall, right under the framed wedding pictures, and finally plunge yourself inside her.

“Oh, oh, oh!” 

What did Minju do to get this tight? Her walls are squeezed closer around you than you remember. They’re still wet from her squirting, easing your burden of fighting against the tautness of her core.

Her groans are pitched just like how you pitch yourself in her and make her fight for it. She tries everything: gathering the strength she has to push her ass into your crotch, rolling her body, looking back to watch your cock disappear between her lips. 

“So big, daddy!” she cries. With a lick of her lips, she turns to face you. “Mmm, d-do you ever get this massive when you’re fucking Wonyoung?”

That seals it. There’s no restraint in using her body. Her plump ass leading to her toned back is a temptation by itself. You’d burst all over it (maybe in it) if you weren’t already firm in breeding her. But dear god—it rises and descends into your angled pumps so effortlessly that you aren’t afraid to spank it like you’re angry at her. 

“Keep your whore mouth shut.”

Spank after spank you bestow and you realize, oh, you and Minju are really made for each other. The more her ass reddens, the more hot pain sparks on your palm. She throws herself back hard, you piston her harder. 

Your puzzle pieces stick together so perfectly that it’s a shame you didn’t meet under different circumstances. She could’ve been an adorable girl next door and you could have been a guy looking to slip her a love letter. She would’ve been your loving girlfriend, a beautiful wife, someone you’d actually enjoy touching, so different from the woman asleep in the bed upstairs.

But that’s never happening. Minju’s a slut through and through, and she’ll forever be a sin you won’t go to confessions for. She was made to be fucked then discarded of when she’s no longer of use. You see it in the way she’s in a mantra of craziness, the way she yells, the way she looks back at you like she’s daring you to hurt her.

You choose the dare rather than to tell her the truth. You curl her hair into a fist and pull her into you. 

“God, I’m so close.” Minju’s trembling body grows warmer in your touch. “I’m gonna cum all over your big gorgeous cock. I can’t hold out longer, daddy.”

Your teeth dig into her earlobe. You could make her bleed and she’d still find a way to make the pain heavenly. “I thought I told you to be quiet. Is Wonyoung waking up and ending your life worth it for this?”

“What if I say yes?” 

“Fuck.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice, making her see you’d give her away to get a night with me? You’ll give up all this stupid shit t-to be my daddy. Because Wonyoung’s just sooo worthless, isn’t she?”

Savage her cunt and shove your fingers down her mouth just so she could shut up. You love this. Minju’s always so ready for you. 

No, actually—now that you think about it, you hate it. You hate how she’s curvier than your wife, how she’s more alluring than she could ever be, how she moans despite the blockage in her throat. Everything about her is so sexy that the sound of her choking up spit makes you throb. 

This is the wrong time to have a conscience. You’ve already split her apart. You’ve already got your fingers in her hair that pull hard to the point that damage is highly likely. You’ve already—

—got Minju screaming, biting down on your skin as her legs spread. What a strange thing to have as a natural reflex. That’s all she knows to do: spread her legs, hope her innocent face attracts a guy into her home and his dick into her pussy. Her skin, white as snow, has become impure with red blemishes. You see her purple-bruised neck flex when she yells into your hand. 

“Daddy! Daddy!” Minju yells. Her fingernails leave fine scratches on the wall. “Fuck, I’m squirting so much I don’t know what to do—oh fuck!”

You bump the manic girl up on your knee before spreading her legs. A godless squirt of her juices hits Wonyoung’s face, the savior being the glass protecting the picture. Others bless their homes with water blessed by esteemed priests; you like to stand out. Choose to have Minju’s unholy juice flood the photo you once held dear. 

Did something possess you? An evil spirit, a god of fertility? All are clichés but you can’t help but think so when you notice how fast you’re pumping Minju. It’s like greed’s finally reigned you. It’s difficult to resist. Minju just wrings your cock perfectly dry with her tight cunt, keeps you speedy with her desperate moans. You’re vandalizing her with your climax and she doesn’t want to be clean ever again.

“You think you’re special, Minju?” You press her to the ruined picture. Her side profile mashes on the glass. “You’re nothing, only a useless hole, just like that bitch. Now clean it up.”

Her eyes light up in shock. Excitement? “What?”

You pull her head back in order to have her full lips pressed against Wonyoung’s face. The clear squirt is still dripping from it. Minju’s face is red, and although your cock left her moments ago, she insists on tensing like it’s there. Is that how she lives? Her way of bonding is riding on the high she got the night before and the night before that. She always has sex in her mind that thoughts of it occur to her as they would to an animal. 

That’s right; she’s an animal. Perhaps even a dog would have more self-control than her, ironically. 

“Lick your mess,” you command. “Now.”

Minju whimpers. You bury your fingernails in her scalp until she loses her fake hesitance. Her tongue glides on Wonyoung’s face and relieves her of the mess. Her lips part and close, taking in her own taste. 

She looks like she’s making out with your wife. Her pretty face smudges the other pretty face in the picture and it’s so much hotter than it’s got the permit to be. Wonder how it’ll look if she’s actually kissing the real Wonyoung—picture them with their legs locked together and tongues coming out to play—and you’re hard enough for another round.

“That’s right. You want to be Wonyoung so bad? You want to be the one I drive into the bed everyday? So fucking make out with her.”

“Y-yes, daddy. Oh.” Minju’s moans fog the glass. “I taste delicious.”

 It’s probably a hygienically reprehensible thing to do. But her mouth is dirtier than the picture anyway. You force her lips deeper into it until you pull her away, satisfied.

Not quite.

Rub her clit a few more times. Hose her squirt all over the floor. You’ll have a mess to clean up. Oh, there’s all the evidence: her squirt on the floor, her lipstick in the shape of a languid kiss on the picture frame, the mess she made in the dining table where you ate her rather than your food. 

But it’s all worth it. An evil idea plants and sprouts in your mind. “Bedroom.”

Minju pants. Her hands are flat on the wall. She turns to you, saliva and lipstick smeared on her chin, and asks, “W-which one?” 

“You know exactly where.”

Her wide eyes tell you wordlessly that she got the point. She’s well aware of what room you want to use her body next. It’s not even supposed to be a question given the ways and moments you fucked her there.

“But daddy—if, if she hears us?”

You grin. “Then you’ll have to be pretty fucking quiet.”

The best thing about Minju besides her body is her passiveness. She may act up sometimes but she still needs your cock, and she’ll do anything to get it. So when she hangs her head to hide her smile, you spank her. It speeds her steps to the staircase. Continue doing so all the way.

It’s funny how she struggles to even lift a foot. Streams of your cum and hers slide down her legs, staining the carpet. You’ll have to wash that out, too. If you have the maid do it, she’s likely to put two and two together. 

Even from the back, Minju’s body is beautiful. Her reddened ass twists from side to side and brings attention to her wide hips. The deep line on her spine is a path you trace your fingertips on. She quivers. 

“Daddy,” she whines.

Hit her butt. Let it fill your palm. “Keep on walking.”

It’s borderline dehumanizing. You’re treating her with a ferociousness a woman like her should never have to go through. The eyes of the painted men and women on your walls lock on her. It’s like their hard stares are real. Minju bears the blows to her cheeks during her walk of humiliation up the stairs. Tiny yelps are caused by each one. It’s in her to be quiet now that Wonyoung is quite near, although not as close as she is to another heavy orgasm.

You slap her pussy, making her shake, then lead the juices mingling in it up to her asshole. She chews on the inside of her cheek to hide her moan. She reaches the last step with a huge sigh of relief. 

The finality of the torture doesn’t last long. Fuck, it doesn’t even exist. You collect the semen and wetness from her legs, then drag it right back to her pussy.

You shove your fingers deep in her cave. There. Now your cum stays inside her. After that, it’ll drip all the way to her womb. She screams through pursed lips. 

Push her hard against your bedroom door. Her stomach’s flatness goes up to the point that it’s the only thing engendered into the wood. Minju’s tiny gasp is already loud for you. Her beautiful side profile is mashed deep into the solid barrier between the two women.

Minju whimpers. Is she scared or heavily turned on? The thing with her is she likes both. So, yeah—she’s wet at the thought of being caught with you, being fucked within a distance of your wife wherein she could finally pin down your infidelity. 

The little angel closes her eyes when your words hover near her prone ear. “Shut up,” you warn, “unless you want to lose your career. Or this dick.”

You slip your shaft between Minju’s shapely thighs. A friction is nurtured and grown into rough, pant-accompanied humping that leaves both of you breathless. Her pussy lips splay warmly on you and you’re allowed to rub yourself on her clit. 

Minju tenses up. Her breaths are kept to a hummed volume yet their huskiness gets you to fuck her legs faster. The core between them is so warm and you haven’t even welcomed yourself in it again. 

You carefully open the door. You don’t know what you’re expecting: Wonyoung crying with her face in her knees? An anger you never knew she could have? But what shows calms you. There’s your wife who remains asleep on the bed. From the soft snores, it’s easy to tell she’s deep in a dream.

“Wonyoung’s so pretty, daddy,” whispers Minju. You push her to the footboard where she holds on tight. “Do you think she’ll want to join if she wakes up? Or she’ll leave you for me?”

“Are you sure you want to act like that?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Depends on what you’re gonna do to me.”

Everything. You’re planning on doing everything to her. 

Push her to the small pole of the wood. You’re forced to shove your fingers in her mouth again to keep her from yelling. The contact it makes to her clit is already overwhelming. But she’s all for overwhelming—she wants the kind of sex that leaves her beaten and bruised, the kind that leaves her sore and not knowing if she should tell you to keep going or halt. 

You know what she’d choose.

Minju grinds on the pole. She’s dancing her hips again. Somehow, things of the past don’t leave her. Her idol days still leave an impact on her. The guy she made cheat on his wife a long time ago returned to her life to cheat again. 

No, you’ve never been one for sentimentality, but things have somehow stayed the same. The slut that is Minju today was a slut all those years ago, too. 

Grab her hips and force her to hump the ball of the pole. She soaks it instantly. Minju is corrupted to no hope of return. There’s your cum, leaking from her pussy and to the bedsheets. Her juices wet the pole and increase the creaking noises that would wake Wonyoung up if not for whatever dream she’s having.

“Oh, daddy! Oh, daaaddy—” she stammers, words bitten and broken in the major need to be quiet.  “Just… fuck me. Please?”

“As long as you—”

“Be a good quiet girl, yes. I’ll do anything, daddy. Anything for this cock.” 

She kneels down. Her tender mouth seals around your left testicle. You nearly shout right there and then. Minju’s running her lips on the underside of your swelling dick. She feels so good, and she is so good. She has all the tips and tricks to keep you hard memorized, if her brain wasn’t too full of other dirty thoughts.

The rasp in your throat materializes and makes her squirm her legs together. She puckers her lips then slips your cock through their joined entrance. Her almond eyes look wider tonight. Your tip pokes the back of her throat. She lets it rub there for now. You find pleasure in the texture that makes you leak. No, you can’t cum. Not yet.

Take a last look at Wonyoung before diving your rod to the depths of Minju’s throat.

It’s funny that the girl still has a gag reflex. Sucking dick is second nature to her. So is getting throatfucked. The walls of her oral hole flex to keep you in. She makes sharp inhalations only to take in the musky scent you thrust on her. In her?

Choking comes after. The orifice grows tighter which makes you fuck it harder. Saliva’s slick liquid state sheens your erection. Minju’s lost her breath a long time ago but she’s lost more than that now. The regular beat of her heart is gone. You can’t search her face for any color other than the palest white. 

“You have to stop gagging, Minju,” you say. Don’t help her though; keep ruining that throat. “Maybe you really do wanna get caught. Makes you really wet, doesn’t it?”

She nods. Your hard tip bobs in her mouth as she does. Her pretty eyes, with their long lashes and big pupils that always seem to gleam with innocence, fill with watery tears. 

“How cute.” You’re surprised that her hair is intact to her scalp after you pull it back. “But I make the rules around here. And I need you to seal that mouth shut and use it for good.”

There’s a possibility that, like Minju, you’re a dancer as well. But the upward grind of your body has no grace in it. It’s a rough, punked up beat that renders the girl humming and screaming.  This roughness is nowhere close to natural.

You dip your cock in her just to see how far you could go, how far is needed to keep her quiet. Feed her more than she could suck. Every sensitive spot of yours is on fire thanks to Minju’s dutiful tongue and hard sucking. Your sack slaps her chin so hard it’s surprising it doesn’t hurt. 

But, like you iterated, Minju isn’t normal. She takes the pain for pleasure and doesn’t give a damn if she gets wounded because of it. 

The tears finally fall from her eyes. 

The lines blur. Who is she—the woman asleep on your bed or the woman you fucked to be disloyal to her? Minju’s beautiful; so is Wonyoung. Jang Wonyoung is beautiful but there’s a category of beauty wherein the girl you’re destroying right now falls in. That’s the section for women who look pretty when they cry, who’ve accepted they’re as fucked up as whoever finds them and takes them in for who they are.

Your wife is pretty. You guess. But Minju is a beauty who lets you do everything to her, and that makes her a little bit more important.

Defile, defile, defile. Wonyoung wouldn’t let you get cum in her hair—(”I have a photoshoot, babe, you can’t!”). Semen sticks to Minju’s locks right now. Wonyoung wouldn’t let you be this rough with her—(“And what if they see? I shouldn’t look dirty to the fans.”) Minju is sitting there taking it like she’s just a cum dump. Wonyoung wouldn’t let you tear off her clothes because “they’re couture so it’s not really mine.” The coat Minju wore coming here lies discarded on the first floor.

Wonyoung doesn’t let anyone defile her. It’s her most fatal flaw. It’s the flaw that makes her husband see all the tiny imperfections she doesn’t allow the camera to see and chase highs in another woman’s throat.

So when Minju cries, gags, chokes—you realize it’s all so simple.

Slip out of her. The delusions clouding your head make you steal a look at the bed. Oh, now it’s unbelievable. Wonyoung is still asleep.

Not that it’s any inconvenience to you.

You prop Minju up to the vanity table. The counter carries the heave of her small chest. She can barely lift her head up. It makes her carry a look of humiliation that’s not at all true. She’s the most shameless woman you’ve ever met.

“Daddy… daddy…” 

Twist her chin so she can look at herself in the mirror. Her body is amazing despite the handprints and bruises peppered on her stomach, butt, and neck. She flusters but your finger presses on her lips before she can look away.

“Not a single sound,” you remind her. 

She nods. Good girl.

Minju’s a capable girl. Well, mostly. She offers those amazing dicksucking lips, shapely curves, and sometimes, her ass for ruining its own tightness. But nothing beats the feeling of her cunt. It’s all the right things: wet, tight, and perfectly quivering as they wrap around your shaft.

Minju closes her eyes. Bites down on her lip. She fights to be true to her promise of silence. Being a good girl and bad girl simultaneously is one of her versatile traits. The table creaks louder than expected. You would’ve shot another look at your spouse again, but Minju’s pretty face is in the way. Her cheeks are scarlet and her brows bead with sweat. She really is a beauty.

Your strokes are ceaseless. The thing that shocks you the least is the fact that her legs look as if they spread wider and wider. She splits while you split her apart. Place a hand on her tummy to muffle the sounds of skin colliding and wood creaking, and reach a better end: your cock is hitting her guts, making a bobbing print on her flat stomach.

“Look how deep I am, Minju.” You grin wickedly at her reflection. “You call me daddy anywhere, don’t you? How about I become a real one?”

Minju bounces herself on you. That’s a yes. A definite, enthusiastic yes. 

Your penetration is rougher, gliding on places she can’t even imagine. If you cum right now, and this far in, you’ll live up to your name of “daddy.” Minju isn’t the only one who has to keep promises.

Corner a pulse point on her neck. Her core squeezes and although its resistance is tough, your pumps are more so.

“You’ll be my secret good girl. Daddy’s gonna put a fucking baby in your stomach, and no one has to know it’s mine. No one has to know you’re mine.”

Minju pouts, not out of sadness but of the orgasm that’s creeping from her feet to her center. It’s so close she could reach for it, taste it like a strong wind. You allow the tiny breaths and pants that leave her to be exemptions from your bedroom law.

“Wonyoung would be so happy for you.” You lick the sensitive spot behind her ear. “‘That’s so great, unnie! Come on, tell us who’s the lucky guy.’ And you’ll have to stop yourself from telling her that I did it. Can you do that?”

Minju emphasizes each repetition with a responding throb and push of her cunt. “Yes, yes, yes—”

Allow that, too. Burst inside Minju. Flood her insides with cum that shall infiltrate her fertile womb. Soon, that tummy would be round rather than flat. It’ll be your baby. 

Minju got what she wanted in the end.

-

The next day, Wonyoung will wake up crying. 

It’ll happen early in the morning, when the moon is still up and sheets still wrap your exhausted form. But she’s sobbing so loud that it’ll rouse you. 

“What’s wrong?” you’ll say. 

She’ll tell you about a dream she had. Wonyoung’s going to narrate a complex dream of Minju, her beloved former member and best friend, seducing you. It happened right in the house and in front of her. You dared to do it to her while she was sleeping and thought she didn’t know.

And you?

You’ll take her in your arms, kiss the inside of her trembling wrist, and say, “Oh, honey—it’s okay. I’m here, baby. I’m here. I’m here.”

#kpop smut #smut #kpop fanfic #fanfic #kpop fic #fic #kpop fanfiction #fanfiction #izone smut #actress smut #kim minju smut #izone minju smut #male reader #x reader #reader insert #idol x reader #idol x male reader #kpop x reader #kpop x male reader #minju smut #pov smut #kofimission #commission #iz days of christmas 2023 #iz days of christmas 2023 day 7

[perpetuallydaydreaming]

you don’t really like me, you just think you do.

when james’ feelings did a 180, you find it hard to take him seriously.

warnings: no warnings, not proof read (bc lazy)

tags: fluff & angst, 5.9k wc, getting together, jamie being the best suitor, charlie (not weasely) is also here

when people asks you how it changed, you always say it was sudden.

suddenly, james was everywhere you look. suddenly, james was tripping and falling over you. suddenly, james fancied you.

as sudden as it was, it didn’t shock you as one would’ve expected. you always knew him to be as inconsistent in his school work, so you figured he would be inconsistent towards his feelings as well. what shocked you though, was that he liked you of all people.

all interactions with james had strictly consisted of school related-topics. you were in different houses and different social circles. so when he pulls you aside one morning in-between classes. you had expected one of two things; showing him how to do a bandaging charm, again or him asking you for a copy of your essays.

and it was to your absolute horror, that he proved how wrong you are.

“i like you and i hope you like me too.”

when people asks james how it changed, he always says it was gradual.

gradually, you became something he had looked forward seeing every morning. gradually, you had become a pivotal part of his day, every interaction cherished and replayed in his mind late at night. gradually, he had started falling for you.

as gradual as it was, it came as a complete shock for him. he had only viewed you as a friend, and even that was pushing it. you two barely talked to each other and when you did, it was always about school. you two were always paired up for some reason, and in his mind it became akin to fate. you started to occupy the large space that was once occupied by his lilypad and now replaced by you, your soft smile and the contradicting cynic replies.

and with fate working beside him to get you two as close as possible, james thought you figured the same. you were always so patient wth him, always ready to help him out. but your kindness sometimes came with snarky responses that he found oh so charming and witty. so when he excused you to talk, he had expected a successful attempt in snagging a date with you. even going as far as preparing a bouquet for you, he arranged himself.

and it was to his absolute horror, that you proved how wrong he is.

“um, no.”

and so became the norm. james had made it his life’s mission to actively pursue you. you gotta admit though, if he wanted something. he really goes all out.

it started with a daily routine with you every morning. james would wake up early and wait for you by the main floor near the grand staircase. his back against the rough stones, arms and ankles crossed, a boyish smile on his face the moment he would see you. he would beam a smile, cheeks denting, eyes shinning, and walk to you, offering a pleasant greeting of good morning, gorgeous. my, don’t you look ravishing this morning, grabbing your books and tote to carry for you. the first time he attempted this, you fought hard to deny his services. your hands like claws as you hold your things to your person. though he had hardly blinked then, maybe even looked a bit amused, even going as far as looking excited. the weirdo.

but it had been weeks now and frankly, you had grown tired of fighting with him every morning. especially, when he would always win in the end anyway. so now, you just let him do whatever he wanted. not like you have anything to complain about, your bag has always been pretty heavy.

he would flirt with you. constantly. shower you with compliments about things you hardly even think about sometimes. he had sung praises about your eyebrows the other day, and you had no choice but to bluster through it, to mask your flaming cheeks from embarrassment. but he’s not just all talk either, lately he’s worked up the courage to try to hold your hand — or something close to it. he would slowly walk closer to you, his pink lips going on and on asking you and complimenting you, telling jokes, a diversion—you realize. he would blindly extend his fingers, pinkies first, and when you would feel that first touch to your hand, your heart would do an awful jump. your skin would feel a little bit smaller, your brain blaring alarms, his pinky finger touched your hand, repeat it with increasing traitorous glee. this one, you haven’t stopped fighting. as each time you feel his hand touch yours, you would always create some distance between the two of you, no matter how crowded the corridor is, not that it hardly mattered to him, he looked like he’s won something each time he was successful.

today was no different. before the stairwell could even move, you can already see his dark messy hair waiting for you at one of the floors.

“i say, loverboy’s plenty persistent, hm?” charlie hummed, leaning over the railway, his pale eyes clear with amusement.

you scoff, fingers twitchy on the handle as you see him look up and glow into a smile as he locked eyes with you, “like a rash.” tearing your gaze from james potter down below to look ahead, “that would eventually go away.”

he raises an eyebrow at that, lips quirking into a smirk “really now? he’s been waiting for you every morning for the past months, i think this rash is here to stay. ”

you forced a tight lipped smile, “all in due time, i’m sure.”

clenching your hands when the stairs settle in, you walk down, gently meeting his bright honey eyes.

once you were close enough, he grinned, “good morning my sweet,” pushing himself off of the wall he was leaning against. like some infuriating roguish model. you like to think he practices ways on how he would look leaning against the stone wall. something he would drag his friends into helping him decide which one looked best, no doubt. you almost smile at the thought but stopped yourself when he says, “don’t you look as beautiful as ever.” he hummed.

his robes in his hands, his tie crisp and perfect, his white button-up wrinkle-free. his hair looking like something he’d desperately describe as artfully tousled but could only be ever perceived as messy. his cool bravado contrasting his rosy cheeks and ears. your heart doing that awful thing again.

“well, that’s my cue. see you both later.” charlie waved and you looked, giving him a nod goodbye.

you sighed through your nose, “potter.”

“try not to sound too happy now.” he teased. he let out his palms for you to place your tote and books, and like yesterday and the day before, you give it to him without complaint. “thanks,” you muttered, keeping in a snort of laughter as you see him wear your pink floral tote on his shoulders unabashedly.

“so, are you ready for your ancient runes test today?” he asks, once you two started walking to the great hall.

“how did you—?”

he shrugged, tousling his hair and looking down on you with a proud smile. “i know everything about you, darling.” (and that he does. albeit he had to beg and bribe his way for your friends to start sharing basic information about you. what your classes are, favourite colours, what you like, dislike —because merlin forbid you actually share things about yourself. all without you knowing of course. wouldn’t want you to think of him as weird.)

you gave the weirdo a suspicious stare before shaking your head, “i think i’m ready. i mean, i studied everything i could. i revised three books for it and even did flashcards.”

“well i bet my hair, you’re gonna do just great.” he grinned, softly nudging your shoulder. “you always have.”

rolling your eyes, “thank you, although i don’t really need you hair.”

“well, just tell me which limb you want and i’ll give it to you.” spreading his arms apart, your bag sliding on his arms with his movement. grinning wide and wiggling his eyebrows. leaning into your face.

your face screwing up into a grimace, and pushing his face away with your knuckles, “the same goes for any anatomy or anything you offer me, i’m afraid.”

the persistent blighter just grinned, looking all too proud of himself for whatever reason.

you were about to turn towards the library, but he grabbed your arm and clicked his tongue, “eat breakfast first,” his fingers firmly wrapped around your inner elbow, denting the soft skin there.

“i have to study,” you say firmly, hoping your voice won’t crack.

“you studied enough, now let’s go.” a little tug from him and you were compliant. something he had looked pleasantly surprised by, if the denting cheeks were any indication.

once he felt you weren’t fighting him from pulling you to the great hall, he let you go. warm big hands leaving your arms.

he started talking about his plans, letting you know when he’s available and when he’s busy. asking about yours in turn — and like always sharing nothing. not that he’s deterred. it’s near the hall’s entrance when you feel his gaze at the side of your face, “—after practice though, i’m going to be fairly free the rest of the night.” that familiar lilt in his voice.

breathing in deep, knowing what’s coming next. “so i was thinking, that maybe we could meet up near the lake - have an afternoon picnic.” you turn to look at him and see him rub the back of his neck. the action causing his biceps to bulge out, pulling the fabric taut against his skin. a treacherous thought passing in your mind.

breathing in slowly, you close your eyes to refocus on his face. warm hazel eyes pleading, hopeful, still just like that first time.

“no thank you,” entering the hall just as james opens the door for you.

he frowns, no, pouts. “why not?”

“i just don’t want to.” you walked to your usual seat in the ravenclaw table and james following behind you closely.

“i guess, that’s fair.”

james still in his head, muttering about cancelling with the elves, as he went to unconsciously grab your hand to guide you into your seat. you flushed at the new action, but nonetheless take a seat anyway. he slowly let your bag slip away from his shoulders place it neatly to your side.

“i’ll walk you to the library after you eat, so wait for me, okay?” he smiled gently down at you like you haven’t just rejected him. giving your friends a few nods of acknowledgments before sitting with his friends already there waiting for him.

you hear a few teasing oohs from your friends causing you to get out of your stupor and shoot glares at them. “don’t even.”

it was no public secret that james had been determined to ask you out on a date for the past months. and each time he did, his plans only becoming more elaborate than the last.

the first time he had asked, it was in the corridor in-between classes. people scattering to get where they needed to be. you were no different until a large bouquet with large and colourful flowers arranged messily in wrinkly cellophane and tight ribbons. you remembered his face then, noting how red and shy he looked. he had been stammering and restarting his spiel to you. you saw your friend gesturing for you to hurry, but oddly enough. you stayed rooted to the spot, curious for what’s to come.

“i like you and i hope you like me too!” he might as well be screaming, as the people around you two stopped and stared. the hall now deathly silent, awaiting your response. you flushed at the attention, and grabbed james by the elbow. walking swiftly to the more secluded area at the end of the hall.

once you two were alone, you see those hopeful eyes of his and his nervous smile. his face was still laughably red and the flowers still upright, tightly clutched in his hands.

“um no,” standing up straighter, “i don’t know what transpired for you to do this but, no.”

you can practically see him deflate then, the flowers lowering from his chest to his side. “no?”

“no.”

“i thought—“ he gulped, stepping towards you. but you raise a hand stopping him. clearing your throat before uttering,

“potter, what about evans?”

he tilted his head, hair flopping in his eyes, and a frown on his pink lips. “what about her?”

you scoff a humourless laugh, hands wildly waving in front you. your bag slipping but continued to say,

“what about her? potter, you’ve liked her since—well since, forever and now you want me to believe you like me now?”

“yes.” he nodded, eyebrows scrunching now. looking frustrated like it was obvious.

you laugh in disbelief, muttering lowly, “how fickle.”

“fickle?”

you freeze, shamed he heard you. waving your hands nonchalantly, an easy smile on your face, “you know frequently changes, inconsistent.”

“i know what fickle means, i’m not an idiot.”

you sputter a short laugh at his indignant tone, “what? are you mad at me now?”

huffing through his nose and pouting, “i’m not mad at you, i’m mad at the situation—“

“fickle! you just confessed looking all shy and now you’re glaring—“

“i am not glaring.”

“fickle!” you laugh, pointing at his scrunched up face. his face now red for a different reason.

“i’m not!” he groans, “i really like you and i want to date you.”

reaching up to place a hand on his shoulder, ignoring the way he tensed up and gotten even redder, “no, you don’t. these feelings will eventually pass. trust me.”

james hadn’t replied then, and just as you were about to leave, he thrusted the flowers in your face once again.

“no, potter—“

shaking his head, “no, these are for you. regardless of your answer.” showing you a small dimpled smile, compelling you to take them without anymore argument. the cellophane rustling in your hand. the flowers looking like they’ve been randomly arranged, like someone just chose the biggest and eye catching flowers and bundled it together.

you try not to imagine james picking the flowers himself and getting pink ribbons to tie it all together. tongue poking at his cheek in concentration as he struggles to arrange the flowers like the professionals. it wasn’t an image you saw before, but found yourself easily picturing it nonetheless.

“thank you...”

and you thought that was the end of it. he’ll start to ignore you now because you bruised his pride. maybe even go back to talking to lily evans again.

you try not to think of the swirling disappointment in your stomach, nor the twinge of something else mixed in.

but when you got down from the ravenclaw tower, the next day. off to start your day in the library. there he was, leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

james potter was waiting for you, a radiant smile etching on his face once he saw you.

since then, you had been subjected to various ways james had planned to asked you out. ranging from spelling out your name with an invite in the sky to literally riding a white horse during class and asking if he could whisk you away. all had been met with either an indifferent stares or a horrified wide-eyed gape. after two weeks of feeling complete dread and embarrassment, to the possibilities james potter has in store for you. he suddenly stopped. retiring fireworks and floating parchment of invitations, to normal folded ones inserted in your books. no longer charming his voice so it could be heard all over school to hear him declare his affections, but instead softly asking you in private instead.

it was obvious you had taken a liking to the quieter, more discreet versions rather than the former.

because the first time he did, james had gathered a lock of your hair between his fingers and tucked them behind your ear, whispered low and slow and so close to your ear, as he uttered:

“go on a date with me,”

you were blushing up a storm, then. face warm to the touch and eyes averting frantically to every corner in the library except his eyes. frustratingly aware of his fingers still touching your ear.

he had looked at you then, shock written all over his face before a shy grin took over his face. rubbing his hand over his mouth and tugging the corner of his mouth to stop himself from grinning at your reaction.

he had also been rejected that time but he decided your reaction was reward enough.

you look at your watch and saw you had around an hour left to read up on your other subjects before your first lesson starts.

taking the last few bites of breakfast before james, who had noticed the time as well, had walked over and was already grabbing the things you pulled out of your tote, placing it neatly inside. plopping to the seat beside you.

“you ready to go, pretty?” he quipped.

quickly nodding as you hastily clean your section of the table and said your goodbyes to your friends. pointedly ignoring the wiggling eyebrows and teasing hoots of pretty.

james had offered a hand to help you stand up but you ignored it and stood on your own.

“did you eat a lot?” leaning to have a good look at your face.

you nodded, “a bit. they had scrambled eggs, so i had a full plate.”

james nodding, a happy smile on his face. “good, good.” turning to look in front of him and opening the heavy doors for you all the while adjusting your tote on his shoulders. “listen, there was a schedule change for pitch practice so i’ll be a bit busy starting tomorrow. i’m sorry, sweets.”

“okay.”

he hummed, thoughtful. “i’ll try to still be around and walk you to your classes in between breaks—we’ll see how that goes. try not to miss me too much, yeah?” a teasing smile on his lips.

you rolled your eyes, oblivious to the days ahead.

“oh,” charlie said, leaning over to the railing.

“what?” following his gaze and looking over to the glaringly, strangely vacant spot. “oh,”

now staring at you with a teasing glint in his eye. “i see mr. loverboy’s not in today.” the smirk on his face making you roll your eyes.

“managed to finally scare him off, did ‘ya?” he supplies.

“if only,” crossing your arms, “he said he’ll be busy with quidditch practice.”

when the stairs settled in, charlie turned to you. “it’s certainly nice to know he has other hobbies other than bothering you.”

“bothering me?” adjusting the strap of your tote on your shoulder.

he quirked an eyebrow, an inquisitive look on his face “he doesn’t bother you anymore?”

“nonsense, you know he does.”

“interesting,”

you look at him with a frown, hating the teasing, the all knowing tone he always uses when you missed something. “what?”

“nothing!” you gave him an exasperated stare and raised your eyebrow, raising his hand in the air and chuckled, “i just noticed you getting a bit soft on ‘im, that’s all.” tapping his chin, “you don’t look that bothered to me, is what i’m saying. and you never say so anymore.”

your face warmed. is that what it looked like to others? is that potter thinks? that you’re going soft on him now? you scoff, tightening your hold on your bag and adjusting the sliding strap. “do i really have to announce it every time i’m pissy with him?”

he’s humming, a certain skip in his step that makes you want to trip him, “no, but i can tell you’re at least tolerating him now. friends, maybe?”

“tolerating does not equate friendship, sorry to say.” you know, it isn’t. being with james doesn’t feel at all like how it is with charlie.

“an assistant then?” mirth clear in his eyes as he said that. charlie the pale mutt having way too much fun with this.

pursing your lips in an annoyed frown, “i’d like to think he doesn’t qualify enough to be my assistant.” adjusting the slipping strap of your bag.

he laughs, grabbing your tote off your shoulder, and sliding it to his. “you’re not even used to holding your bag anymore, since he always carry it for you.”

“so?”

“so,” looking pointedly at you, as he counts on his fingers, “he’s not a friend, he doesn’t qualify to be your assistant… what is he then?”

you blinked, the question wasn��t anything new. if anything it was a question you started hearing quite frequently, after james potter’s many attempts to woo you. the questions before, however, carried a chaffing tone meant to tease or pull a reaction. but now, with charlie peering curiously at you, and the many weeks you’ve talked with james. the question now carry a different tone.

but still you remain nonchalant, regardless of the warming cheeks and ears. you huffed,

“a pet.”

it was on the same day after one of your classes when you saw him waiting for you. he was still wearing his practice kit and gloves. it looked as if he had rushed over here, with his hair windswept all the more messier than usual. his hazel eyes more alert, brighter—something you find always happens after he plays.

he looked up when he saw the swarm of students leaving the room, eyes immediately meeting yours and the familiar smile that goes with it. his cheeks tinted pink, maybe from the cold wind gushing outside or, dare i say it, seeing you. you ignore the spreading warmth in your stomach, your skin shrinking and your judas heart thudding like a fluttering hummingbird.

the smile he shot your way, was a soft little smile. something you learned he did if he was sorry about something.

“hello, sweets.” he said once close enough. he had reached out then, grabbing your things out of your arms and you giving it to him out of habit. “did you have a good morning?”

your voice seemed to be unresponsive as you just nodded. still raking over his face and figure. like it was your first time seeing him, an urge to reach out. as if you didn’t see him yesterday.

“sorry, i wasn’t there to greet you in the morning.” rubbing the back of his neck. “the team wanted an early practice.”

“oh, i barely noticed.” you lied.

a lie he seems to have caught on himself, if the bashful smile on his face is anything to go by. his cheeks with pretty divots— an urge to dig your thumbs in there greater than ever. no, you think. clenching your hands tight to your sides. fucking charlie with his absurd ideas.

when the last student left the hall, the two of you were left in silence. him staring sparkles at you and you desperately avoiding it.

clearing your throat, you started to walk in the direction of your next class.

“anyway it’s fine, you’re captain now. so more responsibilities is inevitable, i say.”

he slipped your bag into his shoulders and started rearranging your books in his arms. “you know i made captain?”

“you told me, didn’t you?” you frown. you could have sworn he did. it was the day he had drawn hearts all over the margin of your notes, writing both yours and his initials in a heart. the sopping sap.

he stood up straighter, eyes widening in wonder. “you remembered,”

“is that so surprising?” clicking your tongue, slightly offended he thinks you would disregard the things he says. you had manners.

he immediately shook his head, a bright smile took over his face that you had no choice but to look away.

“i’m more surprised you actually have the time to even walk me to class.”

he shakes his head, “i’ll always make time for you!” he exclaimed, slightly bumping your shoulder. “did you think i’d let you go on a day without seeing my face at least once?”

“ah yes, because seeing you is such a gift, no?” you said, you’re voice void of emotions. but he continues undeterred.

“and because i’m so generous, i’ll try to meet you like this tomorrow too.” he beamed, puffing his chest.

a clear image enters your brain. you think of james rushing from the practice grounds to the classrooms in the higher floors. imagine him barely having anytime to rest or even drink water if he were to walk you to your classes and go back to the pitch in time. imagine himself slump against the stone wall in front of the door, steadying his breathing so he wouldn’t look tired or worn, putting on his usual, irritably handsome smile. you imagine him having to rush back, making him even more tired than he has to be. imagine him not performing his best.

the image vivid in your head because he would most likely do just that. and that fact didn’t sit well with you for some reason, “what for? won’t that be an inconvenience to you?”

“it’s not an inconvenience.” he says lightly.

“but isn’t the practice field far from here?” you frowned. it was at two flights of stairs, and a long walk to the covered bridge to the school grounds to the quidditch pitch. it had to be at least a 15 minute walk

his smile slowly started to leave his face as if sensing something wrong. “not that far—” turning to look at you.

you raise an eyebrow, as if scolding, “didn’t you rush over here?”

he shook his head, curls strands flopping over his eyes, “only a little bit—“

“potter, you don’t have rush over here for that.”

“but how can i walk you to your next class if i don’t hurry?”

“that’s what i’m saying,” rolling your eyes, “you don’t have to walk me to class, we can just focus on our own thing for a while—“

now a small frown on his face, “but i want to.”

“and i’m telling you, i don’t need you to. you can focus on your training more rather than rush to walk me in-between classes.” waving off as if it was nothing. you didn’t want him giving up precious break time for something menial like walking you to class.

he stops walking, eyes now filled with frustration. you groan inwardly, plenty sure you won’t be able to reach your class in time. “i just want to spend a little bit of time with you, is that so bad?”

you laugh awkwardly, “this is barely spending time with each other. it’s just a walk to class—”

“so what? you’re saying no to walking with me now?”

you groan out a laugh, pushing your hair out of your face. the idea of it creating an unpleasant twist in your stomach. “that’s not what i’m saying,” softly rubbing your temples, already feeling the migraine forming over the escalating topic.

“then what?”

“spending a little time apart is better, i don’t need you doing all of this for me. carrying my stuff and walking me to class, or waiting for me in the morning. i don’t need any of it. so apologizing or trying to make up for it is unnecessary.”

he laughs in disbelief, “unnecessary?” he parrots, “why can’t you just let me do things for you? why do you always have to fight with me about everything?”

“i don’t want you to!” you exclaimed.

he is being difficult. you were just saying this for his sake. he was the one who said he needed to practice more and now that you tell him to focus on that, he goes off on you.

“i know, but i want to do these things for you because i like you! this is what people do when they like somebody, y/n. they do stuff for them without being asked to.”

rolling your eyes, just ready to end the conversation as you spew the things in your brain mindlessly. “oh seven hells! you don’t like me! you just think you do!”

he took a step forward eyes blazing in irritation, “and you just know that for sure, yeah?”

“yes, potter. i know this for sure.”

he scoffs out a disbelieving laugh, “why is it so hard for you to take my feelings seriously?”

you took a step back, not expecting his question. “what?”

“did someone hurt you before?”

“no-“

“lie to you? trick you?”

”no, what—?”

“then i don’t understand,” staring at you, eyebrows scrunched and hazel eyes blazed with sadness. “is there something wrong with me—?”

you were about to reach out to him, apologize. or clarify. or anything just to make him stop looking like that.

“why can’t the person i’m interested in, like me back?”

you stop, an ugly green emotion engulfing your chest. of course, you thought. your next class be damned. as you face contorts into a sneer as you spat out the words,

“so that’s what this is about?” you scoff, “years of rejection from evans, you turn to the easiest target you can get, so you can feel good about yourself?”

anger taking over his face, “what—?”

“just admit it, you’re pursuing me because you’re frustrated she didn’t reciprocate your feelings.”

“—you think i see you as someone easy? you think i would actually do that to you?”

you straightened your posture, “you can’t be mad at me for simply laying down the facts.” completely disregarding the fact you’ve implied you’d be a willing participant to his wooing if he weren’t so fickle.

adjusting the strap of your bag on his shoulder, mumbling, “i can’t believe this.” and now in a louder voice. “and what are your facts, then?”

“you claimed to love evans, fact.” he scoffs, but you continue. “she rejects you, fact. you start to realize there are other girls in our year and then you see little ole me, fact. you start to build unto this idea of starting something with me because for whatever reason your brain seems to think it’s a good idea, fact.”

shaking his head, “even if that were all true, i like you now.”

“and how long until that changes too?” you counter, looking straight at him. angry tears building in your eyes.

“what? it’s not going to change. ” he stepped forward, and you step back.

“you have been nothing in life but be inconsistent.”

his face twists into a frown. “that’s not true,”

“oh really?” you nodded, your voice getting louder in the quiet halls, “you were the best student during our first year but then you stopped trying. you were on your way to becoming a prefect until you decided you didn’t want to anymore. you were going to turn down becoming captain if it weren’t for black threatening to quit unless you accepted. i mean, really james potter,”

a bitter laugh came tumbling out of your mouth, “you’ve been in love with this girl ever since you were eleven, and now you aren’t.” you breathed, “how will i know you won’t stop liking me too?”

looking into his eyes, waiting for an answer that doesn’t come, you grabbed your bag and books from him and walked away.

“that’s what i thought.”

you didn’t see james after that. not in the morning after and not in-between classes. you thought it was because of quidditch practice again. but when the week ended and still no sign of him, you felt something heavy drop in your chest.

you labelled it as guilt (though charlie have insisted it to be something else—something else he refuses to tell).

guilty you raised your voice and basically criticized him for doing something nice for you. started overthinking you might’ve struck a nerve you shouldn’t’ve, considering you weren’t really friends to begin with. charlie did always say you were a bit loose with your choice of your words. you were the type to offend somebody even without meaning to, he says.

now, it has been days since you last spoke to james and things hasn’t felt right since.

your tote bag keeps slipping off of your shoulder. your books seems heavier now and harder to hold. now, the eggs served at breakfast were never scrambled— always a shitty sunny side up. you can’t concentrate in class. you keep looking for a tall head of curly hair, everywhere you go and you keep feeling the inevitable disappointment when it isn’t the person you were looking for.

it was getting harder and harder keeping your usual composed demeanor. and if charlie noticed anything different with you, he didn’t say anything. until now that is,

“okay this whole thing is getting pathetic.” he sighed. plopping down next to you in the ravenclaw common room.

you look at him, frown seemingly placed permanently on your face nowadays. “i’m sorry?”

he nodded, “yeah, you should be sorry. because you let a good bloke like potter go.” you sat up, “and all because of your refusal to accept that he might actually like you.”

you roll your eyes grumbling, “you don’t know anything,”

“i know you like him,” he huffs, “and for some reason you refuse to admit it.”

you took a deep breath, the glare you had on, softening as you look away.

you didn’t bother correcting him because, well, he was right. you had been dancing around your feelings for so long, you were sure the mask of indifference had already slipped off without your knowledge. you slumped, a whispered sigh as you muttered, “why would i even bother? i know he’ll change his mind.”

charlie had looked taken aback, clearly he expected more fight from you. you huff, you weren’t so emotionally inept that you would continue to deny it any longer. considering how long you’ve been denying yourself of the truth. maybe just a smidge of denial still, but seeing how that rather blown up in your face, it was time to face the music.

and after a while he said, “did he tell you that?”

fiddling with your hands, you say scoffing, “did he tell me he’ll eventually leave me? no,”

“are you clairvoyant then?”

you huff a short laugh, “you know, i think that’s rubbish.”

he offered a smile, “then how do you know he’ll change his mind?”

you sigh, shrugging your shoulders, “i don’t know,”

“and you’ll never know unless you get up and tell him you like him.”

“but what if he changes his mind?” looking at your friend properly now, “what if he suddenly decides he doesn’t like me anymore. hell, he probably doesn’t anymore.”

he shook his head, “he hasn’t. he won’t.”

“but what if?” you whine.

rolling his eyes, “on the off chance that he does, then at least you can say you tried. that for a short while you were happy.“ patting your back, “and isn’t that better?”

you scoff, looking away. “no, that’s definitely worse.”

it was a two days after you and charlie had a talk. and it was during these two days that you and your friends discussed ways on how to make up with james.

you’d think a group of ravenclaws could come up with clever ways to solve your problems. but when one of your friends suggested painting a mural for their honour, and another telling you to pretend like you passed out in front of him—made you realize your friends were as hopeless as you are.

but it turns out, you didn’t really have to.

you were on your way to the ravenclaw tower, when it happened.

you saw james walking towards you. strides large and with purpose. you can practically see his eyes blaze with determination.

you were never big on confrontation, especially when you’re the one being confronted. so you did what anyone would have done, turn and speed walk the other way.

you were about to turn the corner of the hall, out of his sight when you hear him call out to you.

“y/n please,”

you stop, the desperation in his voice echoing in the halls. you hear his footsteps behind, speeding its pace. before slowly turning around to face him.

“james i-“

he shook his head, breathless as he says, “you know i’m a bit cross with you.”

you nod, “yes. you should be, i-“

“you didn’t let me respond to you that day.”

“what?”

his lips pursed, “when you asked me, if i’ll stop liking you.”

you shook your head, embarrassed. “no, you don’t have to-“

“i don’t know if i’ll stop. all i know is, i like you y/n. and i’m not going to say it’s always been you because i did like her.” he looked at you, eyes clear and sure as ever,

“i liked her when i didn’t even know what liking someone meant. and when i did, i realized it wasn’t the like i thought i had for her. i admired her, sure, but what i felt for her is not even comparable to what i feel for you now. you make me want to become a better man. you make me want to make something of myself. you keep me grounded but you also make me feel like i could fly. you’re the most amazing person, i know and it’s frustrating to think you don’t see yourself the same way i see you.

“and i know you like me too, you can try and pretend all you want but i can tell. because you always listen to me even when you pretend not to. you always have a small smile on your face whenever i come see you in the morning. and then you act as if you don’t care. you always refuse my gifts at first but i know all the things i’ve given you is still in your room. i know you turned the first bouquet into bookmarks. you like me as much as i like you and i know part of the reason why you won’t acknowledge it is because you’re scared. and i can’t exactly blame you because of that. but i’m willing to prove to you that you have nothing to be afraid of. i’ll study harder in school, i’ll take up more responsibility, i’ll prove to you, i can see things through. if you could just give me a chance because you make me want to try, dammit.”

he took a couple of steps forward until he was right in front of you. reaching for your hand and softly engulfing yours with his. never realizing how big it is compared to yours. when you didn’t pull away, he looked at you in the eyes, adjusting his grip so it was intertwined and softly breathing out the words,

“every time i look at you, i feel like my heart is about to jump out of my damned chest. i like you, y/n. i like so much i already wrote to my parents about you.“

he looked at you so softly then, eyes wide in hope.

what do you say to that? james potter the most charming boy in school, your crush ever since you were a first year, likes you. you bit your lip, fighting the growing smile on your face and failing as you utter back,

“all good things i hope.”

he gives a dimpled grin back, “the best, truthful things.”

you cleared your throat, “well, james potter,” tightening your grip on his hand, your meeting that meeting hazel.

“i like you, and i hope you like me back.” you whisper, ignoring the hummingbird in your chest, the alarms in your heads and the tightening skin.

he bit his lip and pulled you flush against him. arms now wrapped around your waist. “no,” he breathed out a laugh, grabbing your cheek before leaning in and slotting his lips with yours into a giddy kiss.

your thumbs slipping into the pretty divots in his cheeks, as soft and smooth as you’ve always imagined them to be.

#perpetuallydaydreaming #james potter #marauders era #james potter imagine #james potter fluff #james potter x reader #harry potter #harry potter imagine #james potter fanfic #marauders #marauders imagine #marauders fluff #james potter x you #james potter x ravenclaw!reader #ravenclaw!reader #getting together #james potter fanfiction #james potter angst

[niki-phoria]

LIGHT ME UP, JUST LIKE MAGIC

pairing: inumaki toge x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff word count: 603

notes: disclaimer that i don't know anything about jsl but i tried to keep it as accurate as possible, can't find a toge header ://, possibly ooc toge ??, apologies for my inconsistent posting lol i'm tired, title from &TEAM - FIREWORK

peace was never common within the halls of jujutsu high. from principal yaga’s regular scoldings aimed towards gojo to the repeated sound of fists meeting skin during training sessions, it wasn’t very often that you were given the opportunity to just be. to exist safely within the walls of the school, forgetting about the curses that are constantly trying to kill you - even if only momentarily. 

sunlight seeps in through INUMAKI TOGE’S open window, allowing a cool breeze to enter his dorm room. his phone lays forgotten on his bed playing a random playlist to fill the silence, though toge mostly ignores the music in favour of focusing on you instead. 

“how was your day?” your movements are smooth as you sign out the phrase, watching toge expectantly in case you make any mistakes. 

“it was good,” he signs back. “how was yours?”

“good.” toge smiles softly. it wasn’t common for people to make an effort to interact with him. at most, he was used to resorting to hand signals and scribbling notes down in order to get his point across. but here you were - using your free time to learn another language for him.

the idea that you would commit to the time consuming and often frustrating process of learning the intricacies of japanese sign language just to make communication with him easier makes toge’s cheeks warm and his heartbeat speed up. a warm feeling spreads through his chest. 

“i missed you.” toge raises an eyebrow, cocking his head at you. 

“salmon?” he teases. 

“shut up,” you mumble. “don’t make me regret telling you.” 

toge simply chuckles. he shifts slightly, hiding his overly flushed cheeks behind the hem of his school uniform. “oh, there was something else i wanted to tell you,” you say, nervously fidgeting with your fingers. your gaze has fallen from meeting his own eyes to the ground. 

toge reaches over to gently giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. he smiles softly despite knowing his face is mostly hidden, hoping that his hands holding yours are enough to calm the worst of your anxiety. “mustard leaf?”

instead of speaking like he was expecting, you slip your hands away from toge’s. you catch your bottom teeth between your teeth before signing, “i love you.”

toge freezes. his breath catches in his throat. butterflies swarm throughout his stomach as he watches you hesitantly repeat the signs with wide, unblinking eyes. 

“i love you.”

his face immediately flushes; a deep blush spreads up his neck and across his cheeks. even from behind the hem of his jacket, you can see the tips of his ears darken. “i hope i’m signing it right,” you chuckle, anxiously lacing your fingers together in your lap. “you don’t have to say it back. i just wanted you to know.”

toge’s heart beats wildly in his chest. his hands tremble slightly as he reaches out to cup your face before pulling you into a kiss. it’s messy - desperate. toge kisses you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. like he never wants to let go. 

your tinted chapstick stains the corners of his mouth when he pulls away. you press your forehead against his own; your arms snaking around his shoulders and wrapping around his neck. toge’s hand slips down to wrap around your waist, pulling you even closer. 

“toge,” you whisper. he takes the time to lean in, pressing a chaste kiss against the exposed skin of your neck. “i love you.”

toge smiles softly, pulling away just enough to look into your eyes once again. “love… you,” he murmurs before pressing his lips against yours once again.

taglist (open! send an ask/dm to be added): @sunoooism @vamxpi @sad-darksoul @kamote-kuneho

if you liked this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or rebloging !! and if you want to support me, check out my jjk masterlist <33

#jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x male reader #inumaki fluff #inumaki x reader #inumaki x male reader #inumaki imagine #inumaki one shot #inumaki x you #inumaki x y/n #jjk imagine #jjk one shot #jjk drabble #jjk scenario #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #male reader #gn reader #jjk inumaki #jjk fic #jjk fanfic #toge inumaki #anime x reader #anime x male reader #anime x you #anime x y/n

[ruhorih4ra]

Hello again! 🐏 This is part 13! It contains violence, angst and horrible descriptions of horrible things (why can't I word things better you ask? I'm tired af, my brain is done.)

You may find lots (and I mean it, lots) of grammatical mistakes and inconsistencies (me translating a sentence in spanish to english even tho I don't know if it makes sense xDD upsi).

Get out of my way 🌈

You remembered everything at once, their faces, your own feelings of agony. There was an essential question waiting to be answered. Are these little D.’s here because of your corrupted soul or, maybe, have you been corrupted because of them? Does it really matter? You looked at your hands and then at Lilith, she seemed angry.

“Five times this week!! You couldn't be satisfied with any of them!” You didn't like the sound of that. “What are you implying?!” you asked. Lilith didn't hold back, too emotional after having remembered her brothers’ faces of anguish. “You want to hurt them!! That little demon of greed appeared because you can't get enough, no amount of suffering can satisfy you!! You want to hurt them to the point of no return!!” Each word pierced you more than the previous one, you felt caged between the wall and the sword. You had no shield and Lilith was merciless.

“That's not true.” you said, your voice barely perceptible. “Oh but it is! I begged you to stop!” The former angel wanted to say more but noticed the eerie silence and lugubrious atmosphere. She looked at you and guilt washed her over, you had paled and tears streamed down your face. “Mc, no... I'm sorry. Mc I-”

“Is it true, Lilith? Did they try to hurt our brothers?” Both you and Lilith looked towards the voice, Lucifer's voice.

You hadn't noticed how the Little D.s' chattering stopped, now all of them stood up impersonating the brothers. They were looking at you from their place, a few meters away, standing still in complete silence, with their eyes looking through you. “It's getting cold, we should go home.” You tried to ignore them but something felt wrong.

They seemed dangerous, you felt like a prey under their gaze. “Go home? I thought you didn't want to be part of our family? You don't have a home, do you? Not here.” Lucifer said. You knew he wasn't the real one, but it was getting harder and harder to tell. “Hey! Shut up and go back to your nonsense!” Lilith put a brave front, even though she felt weaker than ever before. “They tried to kill Belphie, Lilith!” Beelzebub said. “I Would never do that, Beel!” you replied. Lilith's eyes widened in desperation. “No, no, no!! He's NOT Beel!”

You couldn't even think about moving, your figure engulfed by darkness on a night with no moon. From behind you felt Mammon's breath and his voice whispering in your ear. “Mc? Is it okay now?” You turned around swiftly and Mammon revealed the figure of Leviathan with his mouth severely sewed. He was paler than usual, and the bruises around the stitches gave him an even worse look.

“Levi!!” you pushed Mammon away and warily took Leviathan's arms, caressing his face and tenderly touching his now half scarred lips. “No, no, Levi! Oh my god, Leviathan! Why did you do this?!”

“Mc! He’s not Leviathan, he’s a Little D!” Lilith screamed.

“Hmmf morm.” Levi tried to answer, both the stitches and the blood prevented it. “Shhh!! Don't talk!! Let me help you.” tears running down your face, the tremor of your hands equalling the one in your voice. “May the vestiges of pain that linger within the demon before me be eliminated."

Suddenly, Leviathan forced his mouth open, breaking the stitches and covering you with blood. “For you, Mc. I did it for you.” Shock crossed your face and your mouth dropped.

Lilith stared in horror at your worried figure, to her it was obvious that you couldn’t properly distinguish between her brothers and the Little D.s "MC! Levi is safe. He’s not here!” She walked towards you, but before she could reach you, the Little D. of Pride in the shape of Lucifer took her hand, “I have to thank you, dear sister.” Lilith only watched Lucifer, clearly confused. “What do you mean?”

Lucifer laughed before exhaling a satisfied sigh. “We wanted to push them, we wanted to press all their buttons.” He watched intently to Lilith as his smile grew wide. “But who would have guessed? It was you who did it first, our little sister.” Lilith couldn’t shake Lucifer’s grip, couldn’t escape his eyes. She turned her gaze to you, screaming to get your attention. “Mc! Run!”

You cast spell after spell, but Leviathan’s wounds didn’t heal, on the contrary, they got worse. “Levi, don’t worry, it’ll be okay.” You felt Levi’s blood on your face and the smell filled your nostrils. “Your words can’t cure me, they only make me worse.” He said, and you sobbed, trying to speak but only three words came out. “I’m sorry, Levi.” Your tears mixed with the fake blood of the Little D. of envy, if you weren’t so distraught you would have noticed how the eyes of the little demon glowed with joy and amusement.

“Mc! They are the Little D.’s! Mc!” Lilith shouted with all her will, but it was useless. Your unfocused eyes, your shallow breathing, your red and swollen eyes. “Forget it, Lilith. It's too late for them, you couldn't save them, neither you nor your brothers, not even the prince, no one.” Lucifer said.

“Mc?” Beelzebub touched your arm, momentarily distracting you from Levi’s injuries. “Beel?” You replied, narrowing and rubbing your eyes. “Do you know where Belphie is?” Beel asked. Suddenly you did not hear a sound, you saw Lilith scream but everything was in complete silence. You felt your ears clog and an oppressive atmosphere. Beelzebub grabbed your forearm and squeezed it until you screamed. “Ahhh Beel! Stop!” But his grip tightened, his mouth inches away from your ear. “I obeyed you but I’m still hungry.” Your breath was caught in your throat while your heart fought to escape your rib cage. “W-what?” You murmured before hearing a loud thump at your feet. Slowly, your eyes looked at the object that had fallen.

You wanted to scream, to let out the most horrible, painful scream you had ever heard. Instead, no words came out of your mouth. Only the failed attempts to breathe, only tears running down your face. A million shards of glass stabbing your heart, but you couldn’t even move, as Belphie’s head rolled until his lifeless eyes met yours.

“MC! LOOK AT THEM, LOOK AT HIS EYES! THOSE ARE NOT MY BROTHER’S EYES!!” You heard Lilith’s voice like a soft echo even though you knew she was screaming. You wanted to believe her, but right there, looking straight at Belphegor’s eyes, it was clear to you. Belphie’s purple eyes were looking at you, it was him. Not the completely black eyes of a Little D. but the soft purple color and the speck of pink that fades in between. But if they had color that meant that… no, it couldn’t be real.

“Mc!” Lilith shook off Lucifer’s grip and ran towards you, you tried to meet her halfway, weakly raising your hand towards her, but she vanished before you could touch her. A white mist surrounded you, with the fading voice of Lilith calling you. “L-Lilith?” You could not see a thing, your eyes looked into the white fog searching for anything. Unexpectedly, Asmodeu’s face appeared in front of you. Eyes out of his sockets and a smile from ear to ear. “Booh!”

“AAAHHHHHHH!!” you ran into the woods, no matter if you were blindly running into the night, away from the path and safety you knew. Anything was better than this.

Lucifer had gone to a meeting with Diavolo, they were drinking and he was on his second drink of demonus. He wouldn’t be lying if he said he couldn’t stop thinking about you for even a minute. Where were you? Would you ever forgive them? Was it too late for him?

He yearned for your presence, your laugh and the comfort of your smile pressed against his lips. “I should go now, Diavolo.” he tried to get up but a sharp pain shot through his chest, right where the mark of your pact it’s located. Diavolo hadn't heard Lucifer's groans of pain in a while, he was at his friend's side in seconds. “Lucifer!? What's happening!?” The Avatar of pride tore his shirt in a feeble attempt to ease the pain, he looked everywhere searching for you. You were calling him, he could feel you all over the place and then nowhere. “Lucifer!?” Diavolo's voice carried urgency, he could smell the burning skin of Lucifer.

“M-mc is in danger.” Lucifer murmured, trying to breathe. Diavolo cast a glance towards Barbatos, but it was not necessary as the butler was already on his way.

Mammon was laying on your bed waiting for your return when the pain hit him, his chest burning and his back arching painfully until his knees touched his forehead. Although it was paralyzing, Mammon changed into his demon form and quickly left the house of lamentation, frantically looking into the darkness of the devildom’s night. “MC!!!” His voice was desperate, loud and frantic. “Treasure!!” The pain increased and forced him to fall on his knees, but he never stopped calling your name.

Satan watched how Asmodeus’ eyes widened just to quickly close again, how the pupils of the demon of lust dilated as he tried to breathe. “Mc!” Asmo gasped, before falling abruptly. “Asmo!” Satan squatted down but the feeling of your burning pact stopped him, his mind became blurry and from one moment to the next the only thing in his field of vision was the ground. “We have to help them! We…”

You couldn’t see anything, the branches hit your face and scratched your skin to the point of bleeding, but that didn’t stop you. Your legs burned from the effort, you weren’t aware of how much you ran but it didn’t feel like it was enough. “I’m sorry Lucifer!” you screamed, but it wasn’t as loud as you wanted, you were out of breath and the cold air was painful to breathe. “I’m sorry, Levi!” You said. Your legs couldn’t run anymore, but you kept walking, pushing your limits. “I’m sorry, Belphie!” You murmured, no longer moving. “I’m sorry.” You cried.

“I’m sorry, Belphie!” The eyes of the avatar of sloth opened, was it because of the nightmare? Was it because of the intolerable pain in his chest? He didn’t care, he was awake and you weren’t there. He tried to move, but it was impossible, something similar to sleep paralysis. “Mc!!” he cried. “Beel!” he tried again. When he managed to move, the first thing he saw was his twin gasping form, unable to move or pronunce a word. Beelzebub didn’t need to say a word for Belphie to understand, they were feeling the same, you were on danger. You were here with them, you were far away, gone.

Leviathan felt a burning sensation in his chest, fire blazing his skin. However, when he sensed your pact, he felt cold. As if the water seeped into his lungs and sank him into the ocean, cold and alone. And above all that, you. You asking for his help from the surface. “Mc?” Your call through the pacts grew in intensity and the pain did the same.

You wanted to call them, to say sorry and speak the truth. You wanted them to come for you, but at the same time you were afraid. Afraid because you had their lives in your hands and they were ready to give in. No, you couldn’t call them even if that’s what you desired the most.

Something moved behind you, you tried to fight but you were too slow to react. Too slow and too weak, your legs could no longer support you and you fell, who knows where.

Part 14? ಠ⁠_⁠ಠ

Taglist: @yuumaofc @kodasstar @sadlily1 @asmolover1234 @gallantys @prefesro @urminebutidontwantyou @fiveofspades @owl778 @unknownbish101 @pinkvelvetcake1 @bontensbabygirl

Thanks for reading! ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ I do have something else to say. I have to prepare for my finals and so I won't be able to update for at least a month ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ Having said that... Mc is fine y'all (maybe???), next part it's 75% comfort (maybe?? xD), see you!! (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

#obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me mc #obey me fandom #obey me lucifer #obey me gn!reader #obey me angst #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor

[somberjoon]

SYZYGY [1]

✩ pairing: alpha namjoon x chubby fem!omega reader

✩ genre: wonderous , soulmates , strangers to "friends" to lovers , fluff , romance🔞 , life lessons , slice-of-life , brief angsty situations , happy ending

✩ word count: 6.4k

✩ chapter warnings: cussing , cover art does not depict fmc features, drinking / mention of bar hopping , Namjoon is drunk upon meeting FMC but there is nothing that happens! , lots of inside feelies and thought processes

✩ summary: Namjoon would say that he truly lives the normal life. As an alpha, he works the job he wants, he goes out when he has time, and he has never received a single late-fee on payments. He's living the mundane life- until an unknown omega literally drops into his life. Where did she come from? Why him?

✩ cover: me

ch.1 , ch.2 ...

“It is your time, precious one.” 

“What if- what if I’m scared?” 

“You have no reason to be fearful.” 

“I was born to do this- he is just a man, an alpha that I know nothing of- what if we are not compatible like you say we will be?” 

“Do you find me inconsistent in the success of my pairings, precious one?”

“No, I am just afraid I will not live up to your expectations now that I am to be on my own.” 

“Oh, my dear, that is the reason you were matched.” 

“What?”

“Please, trust me once more and trust yourself always from now on.”

“Of course.”

“It is she that loves all thy flaws.”

“It is she that loves all thy flaws.”

Namjoon

It’s another small bar that plays shitty remixes. The only good things about these places are the owners with their intimate service and the perfectly made drinks. 

“What song is this?” Namjoon just about screams into Jimin’s ear. Another remix plays, probably by a newer pop star that he has yet to familiarize himself with. 

“I don’t know or care! It’s your turn!” Jimin points at the messy stack of cards in the middle of the small table. Namjoon gives a lazy eye roll and intently looks at the cards in his hands once again. 

“Do you have a five?” He turns to Seokjin to scream into his ear. 

“Hah! Go fish, bitch.” Namjoon begrudgingly pulled another card from the only neat stack on the table. 

“Can we pick something else?” Namjoon yells between the two, hoping to God that they heard him and will take pity on him. 

This is the one night in a whole month that he has had time to go out and forget about his job. The first shitty bar was just what he needed. Drinks were made with alcohol that was poured with a heavy hand and the music was chosen perfectly. You always have to start with the loud, dance club settings when you bar hop. Then, by the end of the night, you’re sitting at a chill bar that provides board games for its patrons and puts the correct amount of alcohol into drinks. Plus, if you have the right vibes, you can score some free samples. By now, the owners have given them a few too many and all three of them should definitely leave soon. 

“I have a better idea!” Jimin yells. Instead of the others responding, they just wait for Jimin to say what’s next on the agenda. He’s basically been running the whole night, deciding where they go next and what the feel is after each one. He’s the pro. 

“Let’s go home.” 

“Thank god.” Namjoon mumbles to himself. Immediately starting to put their cards away in a mess of backwards and upside down stacks. It was Seokjin’s turn to pay for the tab, so he’s up and heading for the main bartender in a hurry. Apparently they’ve all had enough for the night. By now it’s not just fun noiseless thinking and laughing about ‘the good old days’, it’s tired mumbling and sighing at the hit of cool air that greets them outside of the bar. 

“Ugh, Joon, you should just let us crash at your place. I really can’t imagine the price of a cab right now.” 

“I don’t care, I just wan' be horizontal as soon as possible.” Namjoon mumbles at them, already leading the way to his studio apartment. 

"You're such a fuckin' nerd." Seokjin giggles to himself, making Jimin join in."

"Because I use 'horizontal'? Ya'll can fight over the fuckin' couch cuz' you're not sleepin' withme in my big, sof' bed." 

That just eggs them on more, leaving Namjoon to lead the way as they stumble along behind him.

-

“Uh…Namjoon?”

Seokjin’s unsure voice asks behind Namjoon as he clicks his apartment door’s locks into place. His limbs seem to lag as he tries to peel his shoes and jacket off. 

“What?”

“I thought you said you didn’t go out last night.”

“Bro, I didn’t.” Namjoon adds a whiny ending in his answer. Both Seokjin and Jimin have been asking if he went out without them- the whole night he’s had to convince them he stayed in on a Friday night to work.

“Then, why is there an omega in your living room?”

“There’s not an ‘mega in my liv-” Namjoon finally pries his shoes off and turns to find a female standing just next to his couch. Her scent hits him like a bag of bricks- it’s fucking everywhere, like she scented ever piece of fabric in the house and pushed out some more just for extra measure. 

“Alpha!” Her bright eyes land on his still adjusting eyes. He’s trying his best to piece together why the fuck this is happening. He must be really fucking drunk. They must all be. There wouldn’t be a random omega in his home. He hasn’t touched another person in months thanks to the workload he has. 

“Namjoon? She’s talking to you.” Jimin pipes up, trying to cover his nose with his jacket sleeve. He can’t think the smell is bad can he? Namjoon thinks her scent is nice, really good, perfect even- but as his eyes turn to Jimin and Seokjin he can see their discomfort. 

“You’re talking to me?” Namjoon asks stupidly. He can’t, for the life of him, get ahold of a single thought. There’s no reason for her to be here talking to him. 

“Yes. I’ve been waiting for you.” She says surely. “She sent me to you.” She ends with a giddy smile. 

“Namjoon if you’ve got some weird roleplay going on please let us leave.” Seokjin says finally, pushing Namjoon into his apartment more to dispel the situation and- apparently- leave the stunned, drunk alpha alone with this unknown omega. 

“Who are you?” He asks, studying her to try and figure out if this was an omega he forgot he had a thing with before. Namjoon can’t imagine her as anyone he’s been with before- he’d surely remember a face like her’s, a scent so perfect. 

“Y/N. I’m your gift!” She says with certainty, never letting her smile leave as she waits for him to react to her. Instead, he just feels extremely light headed. With a few slowed-blinks, Namjoon collapses to the ground with a few thuds. 

-

"Please don't die. Please, please don't have drunk too much and die before I could do anything."

Namjoon wakes to a pounding in his head that seems to be speaking to him as well. A foreign voice worries around him. It isn't until a touch to his forehead that has him bolting up from a lying position to come face to face with a woman that he definitely thought he dreamt up.

"Oh, thank The Goddess! I thought you drank too much." Namjoon tries to push himself away from the woman, going as far back to his headboard as he can get. 

"I definitely drank too much, 'cuz who the fuck are you?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you'd remember." He watches confused as she seems to straighten the hoodie she has on- a hoodie he realizes is definitely his- and prepares herself for an introduction. 

"I'm Y/N, your personal omega match." She gives him a grinning greeting that shows her confidence and content in a situation he sure as hell isn't familiar with.

"What- what does that mean?" Namjoon tries to rub the hangover from his eyes, an ache being soothed only when a constant pressure is held to his temples. He listens to her as he continues his ministrations.

"The Goddess raises us, teaches us how to be perfect for our matches. No matter the combination, no matter the gender identity- there's always a match for someone. But, the chosen match only goes through if the one we are matched to deserves it. Our safety is her number one priority."

He takes in this headache of an explanation, trying his best to piece together why the hell he was chosen. He's trying to figure out if this is really happening to him- if this is real, despite him knowing of those that had been 'gifted' an alpha, beta, or omega. 

"I can help you with the pain, I was taught how to alleviate hangover symptoms."

"No, no it's fine, don't touch me." Her face falls at what he says upon opening his eyes. The look of devastation on her face worries him, itching to figure out why what he said had made her so unsettled.

"Oh, I'm so sorry."

"Why?"

"I have been touching you. I brought you to the bed and made sure you didn't sleep with your jeans on. And I've been switching out the cool rags all night to check if you were still sweating. I definitely should have asked."

The scent he was so used to he forgot about it, is now mixed with a burnt equivalent. 

“It’s alright. I was- yeah I don’t remember much. So, thank you for helping me.” 

“Of course! I love helping, I could make you soup if you’d like. I- I don’t know what you like yet but if you let me know what you need right now I can figure it out.” 

Namjoon gives pause at the sheer want that’s on her face, the softness in her scent now. He’s never had another person in his home making him things and wanting to take care of him besides Seokjin and Jimin. Those two will try to help him out whenever he even voices a discomfort, but this stranger is sat kneeling on his bed, tending to him as if he means something to her. He doesn’t know how this works exactly, where she comes from and why she’s so comfortable with him without knowing anything about him. He can’t just take advantage of her either. He’ll learn. 

-

Even as Namjoon prepares a soup he would most definitely not have put the effort into making any other time he was drunk, Y/N is looking over his shoulder and watching what he does every step of the way. Just as his dog at his parents house used to do, she’s right on his heels, trying to memorize the steps. Even worse, her scent is giddy-ingly releasing as if she’s not in control of it. Luckily, he finishes it without spilling or burning himself, setting the bowls on his only place to properly eat in his apartment- a small peninsula in his kitchen that extends to fit four people. He sits to find one Y/N having already gotten him water and found acetaminophen to set next to his bowl. 

“So, you were busy while you were waiting for me, huh?” Namjoon quips more than anything. He gestures to the air around them, the scent. His dry humor doesn’t seem to hit the spot, though.

“I’m sorry about that as well. I was so excited to see a home, your home, and your space. And- I know it’s important to not interfere but it just- came out.” She cringes at herself, her eyes finally leaving him to focus on her bowl of food. Namjoon finds himself hiding his smile in his bite of food, savoring the flavor that he hasn’t had in a while. His amusement doesn’t last long with his overthinking. The first bite of her soup is at her lips before he asks. 

“Did it smell bad? Is my scent not- ya’ know? Not good?” 

“No! Not at all. Your scent is- well- really good to put it simply. At first I was just so excited my own scent was pushing out, but then- I smelled you. It was addicting, and I found I was just curious about what our scents are like together. I’m sorry I disturbed your space.”

“It’s okay-”

“You don’t have to lie to me to make me feel better.” She states. 

“I’m not. You’ll come to learn I’m very verbal about my wants and disinterests- so I’m telling the truth when I say that your scent is ‘really good’ as well.” Namjoon makes a point to jab at her earlier description, finally bringing another smile to her face. 

“Okay, I’ll remember that. And I’m glad you like it.” She shyly admits. 

“Now that we know that, though, let’s just try not to push it out as much until we get to know each other better- just so we don’t act on instincts too haphazardly.” Namjoon politely suggests. He’d never put someone’s scent over consent and their verbal wants and needs- but if they are truly matched by The Goddess, then he knows that an interest will develop and then scents cloud instincts and will make them both do things they may regret. 

Looking at Y/N now, he can imagine it. He can imagine her being the omega he’d do anything for. Right now, his imagination is only based on what The Goddess has given him, though. That’s the problem. He needs to know her inside and out, not just her sweet, warm scent. The softness of her hair- long, warm brown curls that cascade down to her hips- needs to be a feeling that he could recall into his fingers at any moment. He would need to be able to lick his lips and taste her on them. She’d need to be ingrained into him, just as much as he makes sure he’s the same for her. They are the only two that will know each other as intimately as he wishes. Until then, he will care for her as he’s supposed to, and they will get to know each other- as friends. 

“Okay, I can do that.”

“And I’m guessing you had no clothes?” 

“I didn’t know they’d drop me here naked, I just grabbed the first things I found comfortable.” Again, she seems to be more embarrassed of herself in that realization, but she pushes on. “I can get a job. The Goddess taught me how to have good communication and hard work.” 

He didn’t think of that. Should she work? Does she want to work?

“For now, let’s just see how things workout, and if you wish to work, I’ll help you with the process. If you enjoy being here without one, or find out you hate it, then no big deal- I earn enough. Let’s get you some clothes today, though, some things that are better suited for your skin, yeah?” Her eyes light up immediately, her eyes never leaving Namjoon in the dark about how she feels. He likes that already. 

“I can go outside today?” 

“Y/N, you can go outside whenever you want-” He catches her ready to interrupt but he can already guess what she’ll ask. “We’ll talk about scenting another time. But, I am not going to tell you what you can and can’t do. I’m assuming you want to stay here-” A few satisfied nods from her is the answer. “Then we’ll have some basic rules. We tell each other where we’re going, or if we want to go out and do something- just so we know and just so we’re both as safe as possible. We don’t invade each other’s privacy ever- when doors are shut we always knock and when we’re curious about something we ask. We tell each other how we feel if we are having issues or when one wishes to communicate a change in the rules. We are two separate people who have our own needs, and we both need to respect that. I think those are most important, but- do you want to add or change anything?” 

“I appreciate how thorough you are, but where do I sleep?” 

-

"How about this? It's soft and similar to the one you're wearing." 

"Hmmm, I don't know if this is what I want to wear daily, though." 

"How about we just get some basics you immediately like and then we'll get more later on when you figure out what you like in broader areas."

The main issue with shopping for a once-celestial-being is that clothing was never a unique-based choice for them. Everything was uniform and based only on what that person chose to cover. 

"I like simple things, but I just want some more color." 

Namjoon scans the racks of the clothing, but only the sections with more colors. Even then, all of the clothing in the women's section is different. Cuts and flares are different or nonexistent. He finally just looks up to ask a question, but finds Y/N with two arms full of choices. 

"There's just so much and I've never tried them before…can I just try stuff on?" 

-

Namjoon waits an odd amount of time to see the first outfit that Y/N shows him. It's not a crowded store, nor are the stores around them busy. But, when she walks out with a tight forest green crop top that obviously shows she has no bra on he immediately feels like every eye is on them. He's not one that cares about it, he's definitely a 'free the nipple' kinda' guy. But the very brief sight has him standing up immediately from the waiting chairs and blocking her from the small entrance that people could see through. 

"This one is so soft and I love this color. The skirt is a little weird, though. Does it look okay?" 

Namjoon pulls his glued gaze from her face to travel down her body. A body that he is now seeing in a new light. The clothes fit as if they were made for her- even a small pudge of her stomach sticks out between the top and the skirt to pull his gaze in. The skirt isn't weird, it's a creme colored, long cargo skirt that is probably a new style he's a little unaware of. If anything, it's perfect and is as lovely as she sounds. It matches her, unlike his hoodies and matching sweats- though he has to stop himself from wishing she’d just wear his clothing all the time. He gets to her feet, his oversized socks and the smaller pair of slippers that Jimin usually wears in his apartment are on her feet. It's so cute and so soft that he has to completely ignore it to give her an honest sounding answer.

"It looks really good." He says it with a heady voice, already obsessed with how everything looks on her. "Is it comfortable?" He changes the topic to not have to say more than he needs to.

"Yes! I tried on some jeans but the baggier stuff and skirts are more comfortable right now. I can try those later on. I like the sweats and softer stuff, this one was just one I wanted your opinion on." 

"Okay, grab whatever you'd like and then we can get shoes and bedding." Namjoon turns before she answers, hoping he isn't stinking up the damn shop.

Now that they’ve left the clothing shop, Namjoon feels like he can breathe. Despite Y/N having already chosen what she’d found comfortable, she wanted his opinion on a few more options just so she didn’t get ‘too much’. He really didn’t mind buying everything she liked, but she was insistent on living with only necessities- just as she did before she was ‘dropped’. That’s how she describes it, so he will as well. All her clothing is plain and is like her clothing before, as she described. Tight, simple bands and flowy fabrics that were different shades of and between white and black. Now, she just wants to add color and, apparently, his opinion. 

“Why do I need extra bedding? Is there an omega version of most personal items? It was always pretty equal before- everything was perfect.”

“I think that’s the point of being directly raised by The Goddess, it’s all catered to you. You don’t think that a blanket could be two different things to one person there? Like, perfectly soft and fuzzy to you but silky and cool for another.”

“Oh, I never thought about it that way. We just got necessities there and, to be honest, there wasn’t a need to share.”

“It’s just easier for those here to have their own stores or versions of preferred necessities because of your skin. Clothing and bedding is softer in certain stores, products can be found in a large variety based on needs and wants as well, and depending on your second gender there are just other needs you have- you know that though.” Namjoon really hopes that this won’t be a conversation he has to have when they barely know each other. He couldn’t imagine The Goddess making things as important as heats and ruts to be something unnecessary in Her ‘magical land above’. 

“Yes, I know. I’m already recognizing that face you make. Please don’t be shy with me- I kind of lied about sharing things back then- we shared heats and ruts with each other if we wished. It wasn’t sacred there like it is here- it was just a means for survival and The Goddess knew it was something that was our choice. Here, though, it’s far more special and we are taught that- I’m only yours, and if you'd like, you’ll be mine.” 

She says these things with such confidence and assurance. He can’t just let her be this open without him giving that energy back, but he’s more so just not ready. This time to get to know her is crucial and keeping their personal information separate if wanted is important to him. He also can’t blame her, she just told him that their bodies were shared if wanted based on survival, and they were watched over all the time and provided for without having much of a say. It’s all just another thing to learn- he’ll learn to get used to her nonchalance. 

“When it comes up we’ll talk about that then and figure it out together.” Namjoon assures her, hoping he sounds as reassuring as possible. 

“Okay. Ooh, these are nice!” Y/N points at a specific type of blanket in one section. She touches the samples of comforters that line the wall under each different type on the shelf. He likes these comforters as well, the airy, padded blankets provide warmth but don’t make you sweat in the hotter months. 

“These ones are good during the hotter seasons as well- I think they’d be good.”

“Can I get two? For nesting.” 

This part doesn’t take long at all. Namjoon suggests some things and lets her pick out whatever her heart desires as this is all stuff he’ll be less helpful in. By the end, Namjoon is carrying the two clothing bags, and two regular pillows while Y/N’s usual giddy face doesn’t struggle at all to carry the two comforters and two plushies she thought ‘looked like him’. He tried denying the panda, but the koala wasn’t an awful comparison. (He folded immediately). 

“What’s next?” She asks with excitement on her face.

“We plan dinner and then go to bed.” 

“Oh..okay!” The excitement leaves her, but only for a second. 

She never thinks long about what it is she’s taking in. She’d definitely not one to take things lightly, as she said she’d been memorizing his fucking expressions, so it’s probably just content. She’s content to be here and do whatever he suggests because that’s all she knows. 

“How about we go out to dinner? Is there anything you like?” He watches her think for another slow couple of seconds, and then she’s excited again to talk to him. 

“Whatever is your favorite. I’d like to just try something new.”

“You’re going to be sorely disappointed.” Namjoon gives her a mischievous smile that’s more fond-looking when it’s directed at her. 

-

It’s a seedy pizza spot that is honestly not actually all seedy. Namjoon was never one to judge a place or person on how they look- so, when he stumbled upon this place that seemed to be the only thing open after a late-night recording session, he gave it a shot. It’s shitty on the outside with a dirty, worn down awning that could just be black on purpose and a sign that you can barely read. The inside is far better, luckily. It’s as clean as you could probably get the place without gutting it, and the owner is the one making the pizzas. It’s not very seedy because of that and the fact that the owner won’t share his real name. He named it ‘Mario’s’ only because he likes the games and wanted people to think he knew what the fuck he was doing. So, Namjoon isn’t sure- but the pizza’s fucking amazing. 

Y/N doesn’t look like she should be walking into the establishment. She’s bright-eyed and wanting to take in the world as it is her first time seeing it, technically. He doesn’t know how exactly she lived or what she has seen, but it really seems as if she’s appreciative of even the dust lining the crevices of the flooring. 

“Hey, music man. The usual?” 

“Yeah, but double it, please.” 

“Ooh, pretty lady here.” Despite Namjoon never having a jealous moment in his life before this, he immediately tenses up at the attention he gives her.

“Hi! I’m Y/N.”

“Very sweet, well I’ve seen you in here by yourself too many times- so, I’ll charge you for one order today, ey? Nice date, nice price.” 

“Thanks, man.” Namjoon tries to get the conversation over with, looking over to Y/N to see that she doesn’t mind one bit.

“Is this a date?” She suddenly asks, bouncing off the idea that the owner obviously put into her head.

“Just dinner as friends right now. I’d let you know if it was a date, I’m really possessive.” Namjoon says it a little louder than necessary as he leads her to a booth seat that conceals her from the counter’s view. “Let me pay, I’ll be right back.” 

Namjoon misses the giddy smile that Y/N has at the new information she now holds in getting to know her alpha. They aren’t each other’s yet, but he’s all she knows right now and he’s treating her so well. It seems bound to happen that he’ll become closer to her- her's, in all senses that she finds meaningful. It’ll mean she’s doing well, and that she won’t disappoint The Goddess or Namjoon. 

The wait isn’t long, Namjoon’s favorite part besides the perfect slices of pizza. 

“One pepperoni slice and one cheese. I’m a simple man.” 

“I like simple.” Is all she tells him with a shrug before she greedily eats the cheese slice. She talks as she eats, not caring for the food in her mouth. “Wow, there was nothing like this! We didn’t need to eat, but there were cravings in our time of heat. I usually craved something sweet, and with only the necessities being our priority it was usually fruit. We learned to cook basic things as well- breads, soups, and different kinds of rice.” 

Namjoon feels comfortable talking with a half-full mouth now as well, becoming more and more comfortable with a stranger that he just acquainted himself with this morning. 

“You’re in luck, besides music, I’m a professional take-out order-er.” 

“Mmm,” it seems she takes that information and is already imagining the good food that she doesn’t know exists yet. “I didn’t know you made music- that’s your job?” 

“Yeah, I produce music but I’m mostly at home doing it. Sometimes I’ll go in to help with a recording, but that’s not often. I just get paid to make the beats or change lyrics whenever they need help with that.” 

“That’s really cool. Could I hear something sometime?” She looks so interested, so enthralled by him that he almost chokes up at the attention she’s giving him. He doesn’t feel worthy as an alpha to be someone she’s interested in. He’s never had someone look at him like he has all the answers and can provide for her without a second thought. He knows this is a learning process for them both, but he’s thinking that she’s already set on whatever it is she was made for- while he’s just a man that is still figuring out everything himself. A stable job and a home that he can provide isn’t enough. He isn’t enough yet. 

“You’ll probably hear it all the time when I’m working during the week.” 

“Yay.” She gives him that same smile, now with her lips sealed because of the food in her mouth. Grease stains her lips and he has to push down the want to wipe it from her. Her lips, now that he’s looking, are plump and the pink of them is hiding under a layer of orange grease. Despite that, they’re still kissable, memorable, probably soft and pliant in times of need-

“Here’s a napkin.” 

“Thank you!” She takes it and immediately uses it. 

He has to stop doing that.

-

It’s only once they’re home and have hauled everything up to the apartment that Namjoon realizes it was a horrible idea to share the bed. He wants to be a gentleman and he doesn’t want to just push her away. She’s here for an obvious reason, they were matched- supposedly perfect for each other- and he only feels like a dick pushing her away to sleep on his uncomfortable couch. 

He shows her how to use the washing machine, and as they wait it’s far more awkward than he means for it to be. 

“Have you tried the TV yet?” Namjoon asks as she goes through her bag of clothes to show Namjoon the contents. He mentally smacks himself, he really didn’t have to ask, he could just turn it on and put a random show on to end the night. 

“No, I didn’t want to touch anything I wasn’t familiar with.” She’s nonchalant about it, why can’t he be nonchalant about it?

“Okay, I got these to sleep in, they didn’t have that many options so I hope I can borrow a shirt to sleep in if that’s okay?” She holds up a pair of sleep shorts that has far too little fabric. It’s her choice to wear them- he’s not a fucking teenager, he’ll be fine. 

“And I know it’s most decent, so I did find these to wear…” she has to find the tag and read them. “Sports bras.” She holds up the three-pack proudly to show him. Despite her being the one to show him, he feels invasive, immediately turning away after a quick smiling nod to turn on the TV.

“And then this skirt as well as this smaller one, and a more flowy one. The fabrics are nice- I like how different they are here.” 

“Very pretty.” He says, hoping it was normal enough. 

“Thank you! And then just a few more of those shirts like the green one and a couple hoodies and sweats like yours. We’ll match! Plus these shoes and socks will go with everything I got.” She excitedly looks over her things again and again. She’s so happy with just those, so happy with the simple things and the shitty restaurant that he’d never even think about taking a woman to unless they were much more comfortable together. 

In his thinking, he doesn’t notice Y/N standing in front of him until she’s holding up that pair of sleep shorts for him. He takes them without thinking, looking up from the couch to give her a questioning look. 

“You said we could talk about scenting later. Is scenting my clothes off-limits?” She looks down at him with worry in her eyes and a peak of worry slips through to make him weak in the- everything, really. 

“No, uh, no that’s okay.” It’s a possessive thing he feels when he scents the shorts, looking up at her as he gives them a good rub against his neck and even going the extra measure to make sure his scent is thick and potent. 

“There.” He hands them back, the soft fabric going straight to her nose to take in a whiff. He wants so badly to know how much she enjoys it, if she enjoys it as much as he enjoys her’s. She takes her time, then points to the pile of clothes. 

“Can you do the rest once those are clean?”

“Yeah.” It’s a breathy response, hanging onto the hope that he’ll be able to scent her at some point. Having his scent on her things, on her body, it truly finalizes the fact that she’s here for him. She was made to bless someone- all pretty omega, inside and out, and soft features with a soft body. She was made to bless him, he realizes. Though he doesn’t know if it was meant to be him from the beginning, she was still curated in a way that led them together. He doesn’t deserve it. Not when he’s clunky and unconfident in his abilities to be her alpha. His instincts are kicking in without the confidence to even put them to use. 

“Let’s get the bed ready, however you like it we can change it, yeah?” He’s suddenly antsy in his need to make his room presentable and safe. He’s grabbing both blankets and pillows and is in the bedroom before Y/N even makes it there, still becoming more and more tired after her adventures today. 

“Are you tired?” He asks, noticing her tired eyes and the shorts still lifted to her nose. He gets a nodding answer. Perfectly, maybe by fate even, the dryer chimes its finish, indicating that now both of her new blankets are clean and warm.

While he is just about freaking out over never having made a nest before, Y/N is at his side and pulling one thing at a time from his arms. She places the blankets haphazardly in his eyes, just making a small dip for her to cuddle into. Even in her fog of scent and growing tiredness, she is able to do what she needs for her comfortable nest. He even lingers on the fact that she’s making it on the correct side, probably having already noticed where his scent lingers the most. 

“Okay, we sleep.” she almost gets into the bed before Namjoon is tugging at her (his) hoodie, pulling her back. 

“No outside clothes. You need to be comfortable and clean.” She immediately obeys, pulling her (his) sweats down as he looks up at the ceiling to admire the texture. He remembers she needs one of his shirts so he uses that as an actual excuse, plucking a random one from the hangers to hand to her. He completely turns around for that part, waiting only until he hears her settle into the bed before he turns back to her. He catches her arm sticking out, patting the large space next to her, before disappearing again. 

She’s going to be the death of him, really. A pretty omega nesting in his bed. 

He’s a rod next to her. Stiff and trying to take up as little room as possible. He has work tomorrow and a new responsibility he has to navigate- he can’t just stay up all night and be useless in both ways. 

“Namjoon.” Despite how tired she was, she whispers to him with a lucid voice. 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m just- I don’t know- tense? Could I…sleep with your hand?” 

This is more intimate than he thought it’d be. To have her in his bed, wanting his wrist to scent freely and maybe even scent herself. He’s not one to take scenting lightly. To him, it’s special, and should be sacred to the one he is to be with for the rest of his life. He was fine with the clothes, he maybe even thought about it a few times since their shopping trip- but is this too much too fast?

“Nevermind, I’m sorry, I know we didn’t talk about that yet.” She whispers again. 

“Y/N.” It’s silent for a few long seconds. 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m not sure if I want to scent right now, but could I- could we just try this once and I can let you know how I feel?” 

“Are you sure? I know I just came to you so abruptly, I don’t want my presence to change your previous boundaries. I’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with.”

He really thinks about it, about how he’s felt before with others he’s been interested in. Even with Seokjin and Jimin, he’s never thought about scenting them or even needing to push out his own scent in situations that needed his ‘dominance’ for assistance. It was never something he prioritized, or had a reason for. So, the fact that it’s now wanted and needed, it feels intimate. But, maybe wanting to give this to her is what’s right. If not, and he’s reading this wrong, he’ll let her know. His own rule was to be open and to voice their concerns. 

“It’s okay, here.” He sticks out his arm before he can overthink it more. She takes his hand as if it were a precious jewel, her skin is just as soft as he imagined. Maybe it was even better- but he can’t explain it. All he knows is that his own skin seems to call out for her, yearning for a touch he has just met. A touch that he only knew of a second ago. He grasps onto her hand, rubbing his thumb into the back of it as she directs him to her nose. The brush of her nose is like static, a shock to his system that he’s never felt before. His sensitive scent gland there is immediately releasing his scent in wafts that she only snuggles closer to. 

“It’s so good. Is this okay?” She mumbles, clearly trying to keep a clear head as well. 

“Yeah, yeah.” He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself, but really he’s just trying to keep cool. “Do you feel better?” 

“Yes, it’s safe and warm. Thank you, Namjoon.” 

With her nose and upper lip pressed to his wrist- with a mumble of his name whispered into his own skin- he lets out a ragged breath, and he himself tries his best to drift to sleep. It isn’t long before he’s actually tiring down, her sweet, warm scenting pushing out to meet him. She could probably scent the nerves. He doesn’t mind how it happens, nor how they’ll wake up at this point. Now, he can rest, knowing a sweet omega is safe in his home.

#bts au #bts fic #namjoon au #bts x fem!reader #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #namjoon x reader #bts abo #bts omegaverse au #alpha namjoon

[nuhuhwinniethepooh]

D-rink

I honestly just wrote whatever came to my mind 🥲 so please don't come after me if its inconsistent

Geto x Gn!reader

Trope: Lil' angst at the start then Boom! Fluff, Suguru can't skate ?¿

Preview : Holding your icy hands in his, the ice around his heart slowly starts to melt.

◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇

Geto was exhausted of everything.

The back-to-back missions, the disgusting taste of the curses he consumed still on his lips, the constant lack of sleep and the small but constant pull of darkness that came every now and then, had taken its toll on him. He could literally feel the mental and physical exhaustion build a protective, icy wall around his heart as if to numb him from the world.

With a long tired sigh, he drags his feet across the polished wooden floor in the students dorm towards his room, only to stop at the sight of you.

Geto watches you curiously, exhaustion currently forgotten, as he watches you shift your weight from each foot while bringing a raised hand towards the door before pulling it back again, hesitation on your face. "Y/n?"

You startle at the voice, quickly turning around to look and relaxing when you realize it was him. "Suguru, you scared me."

Suguru smiles," I didn't mean to, sorry. What are you doing here though?"

He curiously quirks his head to the side as he watches the metaphorical gears in your head turn to answer his question and he chuckles, his first real chuckle in a long time. You look up at the sound with a small smile on your face, gaining a little confidence with every passing second.

"I just wanted to ask if you wanted to hang out right now and go somewhere in the evening, there's an ice rink I know that has a 40% discount on drinks today. So are you free? You can decline if you want to!" you quickly say as you watch him contemplate between your offer and a few hours of proper sleep before sighing, a slight frown appearing on his face as he feels the small, familiar tug of darkness.

"Are you okay?," you ask, not missing the change of emotions in him. Suguru looks at your worried expressions and sighs, he couldn't do it after all, at least not with the state he was in right now.

Suguru flashes an apologetic smile," I'm sorry, but I think I'll have to decline. I really need to catch up on my sleep but you could go ask Satoru or Shoko though, I'm sure they'd love to tag along." You give a quiet nod before looking down, tugging a few guilt strings in Suguru but he pushes it down, he really couldn't be with you when he was so...unstable.

"Oh well, nothing we can about that! Goodnight then...just ring me up if you change your mind!," you say quickly, looking back up as you wave at him and start to walk towards the opposite direction from where he came from. Suguru holds the urge to call you back as he watches your silhouette vanish in the turning before sighing again, only to see your head suddenly pop back out from the turning.

"Dont forget to ring me up if you do change your mind, okay?!," You yell before vanishing again, leaving a startled Suguru standing in the hallway. A laugh bubbles from within him as he stands laughing by himself in the hallway, entering his room with a smile on his face. He tucks himself to bed still chuckling, finally falling asleep with a small smile gracing his face.

The alarm rings.

Suguru groans, as he shuts the alarm with a thud and opens an eye to look at the time, 5 : 38 in the evening....

He lies in bed, wide awake...with nothing to do... before he realizes his own thought process, Suguru reaches for his phone and calls you. Your voice muttering a muffled greeting breaking him from his reverie as he returns the greeting, quickly putting you on speaker.

"Suguru? What's up? Need something?"

"Just wanted to ask if the ice rink offer was still up or am I too late for that?"

"It's still up! Are you sure though? I thought you wanted to catch up on your sleep, it's only been a few hours."

"I'm sure, I've slept enough for the day. I don't think I could sleep more even if I tried, so what's the timing?"

"It's opens at 7! We have more than enough time!," You chirp back, excitement apparent even from the other side of the speaker. He softly laughs at your ensuing excitement," That's great, I'll come pick you up around 6 : 40, then. Is that fine?"

"Totally!"

"Well then, I guess I'll see you again at 6:40."

"Yup! See ya' at 6 : 40!"

The call ends and slowly Suguru sits up, small bursts of excitement growing in him at the thought of spending time with you, he looks at the time again.

5 : 43, he grins, he better start hurrying up.

At exactly 6 : 40, there's a knock on your door.

"Come in!" You yell towards the door as you bend down to hurriedly tie your shoelaces. The door swings open and all you see at first was a pair of shoes walking towards the bed, looking up only to see an Suguru's amused gaze meet your frustrated ones.

"Can't ties your own laces?" He asks teasingly as he watches you continue to struggle, you mumble incoherent words at him which earns you a small amused snort from his side.

"It's refusing to co-operate right now! I swear the laces in my shoes somehow grows longer only when I'm in a hurry!," You grumble under your breathe as you struggle to tie the extra-long laces on your shoe properly without it flopping around.

Sensing your growing frustration, Suguru smiles and bends down to push your hands away," Let me do it, the day would be over by the time you tie it," he teases as he gets to work.

You sit up with a huff," I do know how to tie my laces, it's just refusing to co-operate with me right now!" He chuckles at your words before tapping your knees as he points towards his handiwork," Tada! You're all ready now."

You gape at the way the laces was tied into a clover-like shape,"Suguru, you have to teach me how to do that!" He chuckles at your words before pointing at the alarm clock besides your bed,"Maybe next time, though. We're getting late as it is."

You look at the time before quickly scrambling on your feet as you grab Suguru's hand and pulls him hurriedly out of the door and out the school compound," You should've mentioned that earlier!"

Suguru bursts into laughter behind you, struggling to catch up with all the laughing he was doing as you drag him behind you towards the station.

30 minutes and a settled-down Suguru later, you reach the ice-rink area. Grinning at him, you pull him inside, sighing with relief as the cold air washes over the both of you from the closed doors. The registration process didn't take long and soon enough, the both of you had already taken your shoes off inexchange for ice-blades instead.

Puttin' your orders down, you drag Suguru into the rink with a smile.

Knees weak and tumbling over in laughter, you look at the pile in the floor trying to get up only to fall down with a loud oof! Yet again, causing your laughter to double down.

"Suguru-," you wheeze out, taking in large gulps of air as you watch him hold the edge of the rink to support himself. He mumbles something incorrigible as he tries standing, causing you to break into fits of laughs again as you slide over to him.

"Glad I've been making you laugh," he says sarcastically while gingerly walking with the blades.

"You should've told me you couldn't skate, I'd have asked you to go out somewhere else if you did!" you say laughter dying out as you grab him by the arm and pull at him.

"Wait!"

"Oh, don't be such a baby"

You grab his hands and slowly pulls him towards the middle. With him still struggling to stand straight, you release his hands and grab him by the arm while using your other hand to straighten his back with a grin.

"See, it's not that hard once you get used to it!" You exclaim, letting go of his back. He looks at you amazed, slowly removing your hand from his arm and replacing it with his hands. The two of you mindlessly glide along the smooth ice, giggling like idiots and ignoring everyone else, lost in your own world as time seemingly passes by.

The bubble pops as the both of you hear the speaker announce the closing of the rink. The both of you take note of that and slides towards the door to get out of the rink, taking off the ice-skates and putting on normal shoes as you pack your stuffs back in your bag.

"Thanks"

"What for?"

"Taking me out, worryin' about me, handling my mood swings and other things," he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck.

You smile," it was no problem at all, really. Don't mind it."

He smiles back," At least, let me repay you then," your smile grows wider at that.

"Are you sure?"

"Very sure"

"Then let's go get dinner, your treat!"

"Is that all? You don't want anything else?"

"Nuh-uh, just dinner."

He chuckles," Dinner it is."

He holds the door open for you, waiting for you to exit.

"So what do you want for dinner?"

"Steak, lots and lots of steak. I'm starving after all that skating, I do hope you bought enough cash with you cuz I'm gonna burn a hole through your wallet," you say with a chuckle, winking at him.

"I'm starting to regret my offer," Suguru fake groans, following behind you.

You chuckle at his reaction, halting your movements and holding out your hand for him to take," Well, let's hurry up! I'm so hungry I could eat a whole cow!"

He fastens his pace and takes your cold hands into his while chuckling," Sure. I don't want you of all people to starve." You laugh at that, your voice echoing in the deserted area and Suguru joins in, your laughter infectious as a warm feeling slowly envelops him despite the chilly night.

Holding your icy hands into his, the ice around his heart slowly starts to melt.

◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇

THIS WAS LONG BUT WORTH IT! TOOK ME A WHOLE WEEK TO WRITE THIS? I need a damn break (I'm kidding)

Masterlist

#nuhuhwinniepooh #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto suguru #jujutsu geto #geto x reader #jjk geto #jjk x you #jjk x reader #geto x y/n #jjk suguru #suguru x reader #jjk fluff

[geekthefreakout]

So, I've been having this thought.

Crowley, perhaps post-bookshop divorce, is sitting in a pub or a coffee shop and the server calls his name, but they say it wrong.

They pronounce it like with the "ow" sound, like in Supernatural. And Crowley, mildly miffed, is like "where did you get that from?"

And the server is a Supernatural fan and explains that there's a demon named Crowley-like-owl-not-crow who helps stop the apocalypse.

And Crowley is like "imagine that. That's weird. Say more."

And the server explains a bit. How SPN!Crowley is this demon who is aware that should the big fight happen, he won't be counted among the winners regardless of which way it goes, and he just wants the world to keep on as it is, so he joins forces with the Winchesters and their renegade angel to stop it. He becomes King of Hell after to fill the power vacuum (and here GO!Crowley gives a bitter scoff) and he is both a villain and a hero and sometimes neither of those things.

Crowley inquires more about the angel, Castiel, and the server enthusiastically describes him. They remark that Crowley(spn) and Castiel have a fun dynamic, because they hate each other but also have to work together, because they're in love.

Crowley looks dumbfounded, and of course the server can't know why, but they do clarify that they are in love with Dean, not each other. Dean being a stand-in for humanity, of course, which is how the show runners wanted you to see it.

"But then at the end they FINALLY let Cas be all the way gay for Dean. Like, a decade of subtext and queer baiting denial, and FINALLY with 2 episodes left in the whole show, they let Cas tell Dean that he cares about humanity because he cares about Dean. Like, he actually gets to tell him he's in love with him."

A pause.

"Well, and then he gets sucked directly to Turbo Hell, so. That sucked. It went canon in THE most homophobic way possible, which is kind of on brand for the show--"

"Turbo hell?????? What is that, the tenth circle?"

"Oh, the place that angels and demons go when they die. The Empty. They don't get an afterlife, they just sleep forever and dream about the bad stuff. It's pretty awful, but Cas gets rescued from their off screen by the end so at least that's something-"

"What about the demon?"

"Oh, Crowley-like-owl? He got killed off for good at the end of season 12."

Crowley-like-crow stares through his sunglasses and the server elaborates again. For some reason, they haven't been called to other tables for anything the entire time they've been speaking.

"It was a good death, I think. He died to save the boys and trap Lucifer in another dimension- it's complicated. But he got to say that he actually hated being King of Hell, and he hated Lucifer, and he got to go out on a good deed. I think the actor was tired of the writers playing around with the character's arc. Walking back development, never committing to what they wanted to do with him... And that led to Crowley being kinda inconsistent and underappreciated. So he asked to be killed off and he walked away from the show."

"Huh. Shame, that."

"Yeah, everyone missed him. There are some characters that I REALLY wish he'd gotten to meet. And I also wish that he got a little more love."

"He was a demon. Love's not exactly in their repertoire."

"It's not supposed to be. It was, though. Cas practically invented free will because he loved Dean. And I guess Crowley also didn't fit into the mold God had set for him, either."

"I suppose God's Plan is... Ineffable in the show."

"I mean. Kinda at first? But the last season God is fully the bad guy."

"WHAT??"

Anyway, Crowley watches Supernatural and has no idea if he hates it or not. He probably does. But somehow, Crowley-like-owl and Castiel and their often unappreciative charges make his heart ache. He deliberately notes all the ways that Castiel is nothing like Aziraphale, thank you very much. He supposes he's glad that Adam never turned either of them into action figures.

He watches and he tries not to wish Aziraphale was watching with him.

#good omens #supernatural #sam writes stuff #idk just had this thought #crowley good omens #crowley spn #destiel #drowley #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #aziracrow

[iwriteloveletters]

Rosemary (Cannibal Eren x Reader)

Hiiii!!! Cherub again, this was just a silly one shot I have though of and Eren brainrot had hit me again recently and I love writing about him, this is ofc Out Of Character so super sorry about this!! I hope if you stumble accross my inconsistently written one shot you enjoy it.

TW - BLOOD, KIDNAPPING, OBSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, DRUGGING, MURDER, CANNIBALISM, !!!!NOT PROOF READ!!!!

WORDS - 3,453

He saw you in everything. In the air he breathed, the water he drank, even in the God he prayed to. You were the only human he saw God in.

Most importantly, he saw you in the people he ate.

Several people who matched your exact description were found with limbs missing, it appeared that they had bled out to death after having their limbs torn off brutally.

Was it wrong of you to assume that this was targeted towards you? Many individuals around your age and are in similar professions were being brutally murdered horribly and didn't receive any justice. It’s impossible to catch the murderer.

You try not to let it get to your head but your family and peers have also caught on to this resemblance, no one lets you hear the end of it. Your mother wants your location, your best friend wants you to text them when you get home safe or when you go to work, all eyes are on you and you are sick of it.

At the office you worked at it was somewhat normal about your resemblance to the recent victims, a lot of them don’t know you personally for them to want to intrude on your privacy. You coming to work was simply enough to let them know you weren’t next in this case.

Today was normal as usual, you started off with today's workload and you’re finally on your fifteen minute break.

“Oh hey (Y/N)!” One of your coworkers greeted you. It was Eren Jaeger, he’s been here longer than you and trained you actually when you started here a year ago.

“Good morning Eren.” You sighed as you took a seat in the breakroom.

He scanned your face for a moment, “are you feeling alright?”

You didn’t realize you looked tired or bad overall, maybe you’re coming down with a cold?

“Uhh, yeah? I didn’t think I looked bad today.” You shyly chuckled.

“You sure? I know it must be stressful seeing the recent news about that serial killer.” You didn’t think about it much but it was half true, all eyes were on you and you had your own fears of being next. You’re more scared than anyone around you right now because it feels like any moment now you’ll be caught in a vulnerable position no matter how hard the people that loved you tried to prevent what felt like the inevitable.

“Well… it is stressful. But I know you really don’t know me so I won’t talk your ears off on your break!” You tried to walk out of the break room till he stopped you.

“How about I take you out for a few drinks? Think of it as a therapy session at a bar!” He laughed to himself.

That didn’t sound so bad actually, you thought to yourself.

You’d have an outside perspective on the entire situation and might even receive worthwhile advice.

“Perfect! I’ll take you today afterwork!” He said before you can even respond.

“Alright!” You said without giving it any other thought.

He walked off and you had eleven minutes left to yourself.

The end of your workday eventually rolled around and you see Eren waiting in the lobby, he truly meant what he said about getting drinks after work today. That made you nervous.

You weren’t attracted to him or at least you thought so, but it felt nice seeing a guy around your age and outside of your close friend group wanting to see you and listen to you, that rarely came by. He might be a good guy.

“Are you ready? I’m getting a taxi and I know you don’t drive.”

You nodded your head as you followed him outside.

As you both walked towards the taxi he opened the door for you, he truly was a gentleman.

You guys then sat in silence while on your way to the bar he let you choose, you chose something not too far away from your home so you can still be safe and not spend an arm and a leg on the taxi home.

Eren of course opened the door for you on the way out and even held his hand out for you to grab as you exited the taxi.

“Can’t wait to see what my client needs to talk about today.” He teased as you both went to find good or decent seats.

You both ordered your drinks and continued sitting in silence. You haven’t said a word since you got in the taxi.

“A lot is going on huh?”

“You could say that,”

“Well go ahead, tell me. I’m not your peer with seniority right now, I’m some guy you’re getting a drink with and telling me your business.

“It’s a lot.” You said, you’re trying to warn him or figure out if he’s joking. Any of those answers works right now.

He waved his hand signaling that he wants to listen to his coworker talk about their weird serial killer fear.

“Ever since that serial killer has been going around letting all those people bleed out to death I’ve been stressed, I fit the description of the people murdered and my family and friends won’t let me forget about it. Every day it feels like more and more precautions set up by them, it feels like they’re expecting me to be murdered. Any day now should be my time, they think! And they want to make sure I know that too. I’m scared Eren. I don't want that to happen.” Your voice cracked.

You’re in a bar talking about your fear of being brutally murdered to your coworker and your voice cracks because you’re on the verge of tears.

He rested on your hand on your shoulder, “hey it’s okay, I know it's scary but I’m sure you won’t be next.”

“How would my family know though?”

He hummed while he thought about his answer to that. You wish there was an easy solution for all of this, you really wish that this uncaught serial killer never started their pattern of murders. Life wouldn’t be so full of fear mongering people.

“Show them you aren’t scared, stop sharing, stop letting them track you. You’re not scared anymore, you don’t wanna be scared right (Y/N)?” He broke your train of thought with the most truthful response you ever heard.

He looked at you with a passion you never thought you’d see from someone so distant such as your coworker. It was beautiful to you.

“You can’t let fear take control over you, not even people's fears. You’d spend the day you do die in fear, don’t let that be your major regret. Start off by turning off your location.” He said.

You did as he said and turned off your location and got rid of your Life-360. Your best friend Sasha and your parents no longer have access to it.

“Of course I’ll let them know that I don’t want to share my location with them and why.” You smiled, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. You were freeing yourself from other people's fears.

“Anything else you feel like you need to do?”

“No I don’t think so!” You said.

This was a great start to a possible friendship.

By this point you both were on your second drink and began to feel tired. You and Eren agreed on one last drink however to end a wonderful night.

You then excused yourself to the bathroom while your drink was being made. ‘He was such a great guy’, you thought to yourself. You never expected him to be so kind especially during your first after work outing. You really want to pursue him now, in which way is what you didn’t have an answer to yet.

As you stepped forward towards your bar stools your drinks were being placed by the bartender, it was perfect timing. Soon you’d be in bed starting a new day that wasn’t plagued by fear.

“Welcome back.” He smiled as he greeted you back.

You smiled as you took a sip of your drink, then another, and another. You felt great, you were relaxed for the first time in a while. You were understood and validated.

Eren began sharing things about his personal life as well by this point and suddenly you felt drowsy, you couldn’t comprehend Eren well while he spoke and he seemed to have caught on and out an arm around you.

The last thing you heard was Eren saying that you were safe in his care and he will get you home safe. It was dark now.

You woke up and you felt cold, and as you opened your eyes it was still dark.

This didn’t feel like home at all, you were on the hard ground instead of your bed, it didn’t smell like your favorite scented candle anymore. It smelled awful actually.

You were not home.

“Eren?” You called out. You were scared. Maybe something happened to you both.

You saw the glow of a hallway light fill up a small space in the room you were in, you saw a silhouette.

“(Y/N)?” Eren said. He was the man standing over you. He really tricked you? He was so kind and genuine, how could he do this to you?

“Eren, what’s going on I’m scared.” You shook in your spot.

He moved closer to you, you cowered closer into the corner of the room, maybe he’ll back off eventually.

He brought out his hand the same exact way he did in the taxi, you feel so stupid. You even turned off your location and told them they had nothing to worry about. You were stupid and you felt like you were going to get seriously hurt.

“Come with me, angel.” He spoke in the same calm tone as earlier when you were getting worked up about your fears and stress.

You had no choice but to take his untrustworthy hand and follow him wherever he took you, maybe he’ll set you free with minimal harm.

As he helped you up he guided you out the room into what appeared to be his house, it was clean and simply decorated. You both eventually found yourselves in front of a dark wooden door. It looked different from the rest of the house, this door seemed old and had scratched on it.

“Are you going to fucking torture me or something?” Your voice trembled.

He let out a huge laugh, as if you said something so shocking and unbelievable. It felt like him kidnapping you and leading you to this door was the only thing on his list tonight.

“Why would I do that? I just got you here.” He said as his laugh finally died down.

He finally opened the door and the smell that hit you was putrid, you couldn’t even describe what it smelled like.

He shoved you into the doorway first, and you were met with stairs that led into complete darkness. He pushed you further so you had to take a step down in order to not fall down a flight of steps. The smell kept getting stronger and stronger the more you went down with him.

“You smell that?” He said as he was reaching for a light.

“Mhm.” You said while nodding your head, if you said anything else or even thought about the smell a bit more you would have thrown up.

“I can’t wait for you to see this angel.” He finally turned on the light. It was dim in the room now but you saw exactly what he wanted you to see.

The sight that was before you was terrible. There were limbs everywhere, old blood stains on the ground and walls, this was going to haunt you for the rest of your life. That was if Eren let you live long enough to be haunted by this.

He walked over to a severed hand and licked it slowly, as though he was savoring it. His eyes were closed as he enjoyed the taste of old blood that has been sitting in his basement for an unknown amount of time.

“This is new, don't worry. I won’t get sick, I have to stay healthy for you.” He locked eyes with you. Dropping the now clean hand back onto the floor.

“You’re… you’re not… the murderer right?” You said, you began to slowly turn around to try and make your escape, the door that leads back upstairs was still open.

Before you could make a run for it, he caught on fast and grabbed your hair by its roots, your scalp beginning to sting and your heart beating so fast you swear he could hear it with you.

“C’mon, don’t be like that,” he cooed, “I did all this for you.”

You let out a grunt in response, you’re thinking and smelling too much at once. You wanted to pass out and hope this was all a nightmare but your body knew this was reality, your body wanted to run.

He turned your head back around to face the gruesome scene once again, “you’re right, I am that person. But you know, I did do all this for you.”

“What the Hell are you talking about?!” You let out a cry.

“(Y/N),” He sighed, “I’ve been in love with you for months now. You seemed so unobtainable that I had to relieve my stress of not having you somehow! But then with some help I have you all to myself.”

You felt so sick, everyone was right. You were next and he made you feel like everyone in your life was crazy for thinking that. It was only a matter of time before he licked the blood off your hands next.

“You could’ve asked me out normally!” You said.

“Were you attracted to me?”

You weren’t, but it wasn’t because he was ugly; he wasn’t. But he never caught your eye, until he did at the bar and then betrayed your trust in less than five hours.

“No.” You gave in, you don’t understand or respect his actions but you both knew you weren’t attracted to him. He was simply a coworker.

“I started with having sex with people that looked similar to you, but it wasn’t enough. I got so angry that they weren’t you and were never going to be you, so I started killing them. Then that wasn’t enough by the third person I started eating them.” He said. He frowned for a moment but then grinned, what else could be going on in his head?

“But I don’t have to do that anymore.” He said while guiding you back up stairs.

You had no choice but to follow him back up, at least you didn’t have to smell the indescribable rot in his basement anymore. Fear of what was going to happen to you next though was still there, your life was in his hands and there was no way you could fight against him. Not right now.

“I finally have you, isn’t that great?” He sounded so proud of murdering people and kidnapping you on top of that.

“No.” You said, you weren’t going to let him corner you like this, you wanted to be free. Nothing about this was great.

“What?” His voice cracked, he was now trying to hold back tears.

“Nothing about this was great for ANYONE.” You shouted. You turned to face him and his once bright green eyes were dull and empty. It felt like you were staring into the nothingness of space. But you didn’t care, he ate people and kidnapped you. He didn’t deserve sympathy.

“No but I love you, I love you so much you wouldn’t let me have you. This was my outlet (Y/N).” He trembled. He hated rejection more than anything. He then grabbed your arms and began to shake you aggressively, “You don’t get to say what isn’t good, do you understand that?”

You tried to push him off you but he was much stronger than you right now, you could feel the bruises forming on your arms. He was known to have a short temper but you didn’t expect to be the cause of him snapping right now. You knew fighting back was going to make things a lot more difficult for you so you simply stood there helplessly as he shook you like you were a doll.

He continued to shout about how his one sided love for you wasn’t fair and that he wasn’t having fun either.

But why would he continue to eat these people that slightly resemble you? To you he enjoyed this more than anything, to you he enjoyed the chase and the fighting the victims put him through.

He jolted you back to your disgusting reality after a long shouting session.

“Do you understand?”

You nodded as fast as you could, you wanted him to stop shouting and shaking you once and for all. You wanted just a bit of human decency, the decency expected from a coworker.

He walked you to a chair, the chair was light brown leather and had thick arm rests, these were chairs you’d find in hospitals. There were clear signs of old blood alongside scratches. This had to have been used on his victims. Perhaps he simply wanted to eat and murder you? He motioned you to sit and before you could begin to take a seat he forced you into the big old chair.

He crouched as he began to tie your wrists against the arm rests and your legs together to ensure you won’t try to escape.

“I won’t be rough, I promise.” He said while focused on the intricate knots he was tying.

You sat there carefully, the more you sat still there was less of a chance for him to react negatively towards you. But he barely looked at you while he was tying you to the chair.

There was a slight burning sensation but nothing that would send you into hysterics luckily. You simply had to stay still for Eren.

“There!” He exclaimed he was more than happy to be finally done with tying, the texture of the rope also made his fingertips burn too.

He took notice of your red wrists from the friction of rope and skin and kissed your wrists lightly.

His lips were soft and warm, it made him feel more human than he actually was. This man was the Devil to you however, and no amount of kisses will solve that.

“I tried real hard to make sure this didn’t hurt, you know angel?” He said, he was still crouched on the ground, right now he was below you. You knew who had the power here though.

“I practiced.” He said while still leaving small warm kisses on your irritated wrists. It felt like he wanted you to praise him for his ‘hard’ work.

“Good job, Eren.” You tried to sound happy for him but the only tone that you had was an exhausted tone. You wanted to die already.

Despite the exhausted tone you kept with him, his green eyes lit up at you. He looked like he received the highest honor; your praise.

“Thank you (Y/N).” He said, “But no matter how many times I practice with this one thing I could never make it painless.” the light in his eyes died down and he pulled a hunting knife from his pocket.

Your heart rate skyrocketed now, you thought maybe a heart attack would occur and kill you before Eren did but all it did was beat in your chest as well as inside your ears.

“Don’t be scared please.” He cooed, he spoke to you the way you’d speak to a hurt puppy.

He pressed the knife against your skin, with a long drag across your skin red beads followed. Then it became tears of blood leaking out of you.

He had such a hungry look in his eyes it disgusted you. He then pressed his lips and you felt his tongue follow the cut he left behind.

“Mmm… you taste so so good, better than I’d ever imagined.”

You shuddered, everything felt too much for you. The feeling of his mouth, the sting of the cut, the sting of his tongue against said cut. It all hurt and scared you all at once.

He began to suck on the wound for a little while longer before he lifted his head up.

“I knew you were the one for me.”

Based on his statement you knew this wasn’t over for you yet.

#attack on titan #eren x reader #eren yeager #yandere eren x reader #yandere #tw yandere #self insert #self insert x canon #self shipping #cannibalposting #cannibalistic

[rare-clone-fic-exchange]

Feverish Flirtations

Summary: You've been the lead medic for General Billaba's battalion for awhile now and you've had a crush on Captain Grey for almost as long. What happens when a fever and a trip to the med bay loosens the Captain's tongue? Pairing: Captain Grey x Reader Rating: Gen (but minors DNI) Word Count: 4,219 A.N: This is for the wonderful, beautiful, and lovely @imarvelatthestars ! While writing this I think I may have become a Grey fan lol. Also, I know there's some inconsistencies with him from the comics, like having the rank of Commander in the comics but Captain in TBB. I went ahead and went with Captain since TBB is more recent, but I included the characters Styles and Stance from the comics since they're the only other named clones from their battalion. Anyway, I really hope you like my interpretation of Grey's character and that you enjoy this little fics!

Warnings: Mentions of medical procedures and illness.

“I’m telling you I’m fine, Doc, you just said the bleeding is internal- that’s where the blood’s supposed to be!”

Your eyes flickered up from your datapad to meet the clone’s attempt at a charming grin. A part of you wanted to laugh, mostly at the expectant look he was giving you, and if you weren’t so tired you probably would have. Right now, though, all you could do was sign.

“Styles, you already told me that joke. You know, the last time you landed yourself in here with a traumatic injury.”

His face fell just a little, “Oh- I did?”

“Guess you should scan to see if his brain’s still there too, Doc,” called Stance from the next bed.

That one did manage to get a small smile out of you, and you saw Styles get some of his pep back at the sight. Then, in a light tone, you said, “Oh, I don’t think it’s that, I think his time with me is just that forgettable.”

Styles sat up as best he could in the med bed, “Come on now, mesh’la, you know you’re as unforgettable as they come.” He winked at you, and you also might have felt a little flustered at his term of endearment, again, if you weren’t so tired.

“I’m sure,” your tone was still light, and you gave him a small smile as you finished making the notes in his chart. Despite the nature of his injuries, he would be just fine. Thank the maker.

“Oooh, barely a polite brush off,” Stance crooned, “Better luck next time, brother. Now, Doc, when can this poor injured trooper get your undivided, tender care?”

“When you have a real injury,” Styles rolled his eyes, though even you could tell there was no real malice there, just brothers in arms giving each other a hard time.

“I do have one!” he lifted the arm the field medic had already temp-treated with a bacta wrap, “Look, I have a boo boo on my bicep. Kiss it better, Doc?”

You felt your eyebrows quirk up, but before you could think of a comeback a stern voice called out behind you.

“Stance, Styles!”

Both men were snapping to attention- or in Styles’ case, as best he could laying down. You turned to see none other than Captain Grey walking into the med bay with the medic who would be relieving you for the next shift. Grey’s eyes were firm as he looked between the two men, a look that, while not uncommon for the Captain, was rarely present when you were in the room.

“Make sure I never hear you speaking so disrespectfully to our staff again. Am I understood?”

A minor rush of panic flowed through you as both men said a loud “Sir, yes sir.” 

You held up your hand, instantly catching the officer’s attention. “Oh, please, Captain, there’s no need for all that, they weren’t being disrespectful.”

There, you saw it, the way his deep brown eyes softened when they were on you for more than a second. The way the lines at the corner of his mouth smoothed, his eyebrows lifting up a fraction, and his head tilting just a bit as if to lean closer to your presence. Maybe you imagined it every time, a hopeful fantasy, but he most definitely did ease up a little at your words.

He couldn’t backpedal on the order, though, which you respected, and settled for him asking how the boys were doing. You gave him and the other medic your reports, which were thankfully standard and very little cause for concern. It was a good day- or, as good as a day could be during a war.

Now that you were officially relieved, you wished the troopers a good night, reminding Styles to rest up, lest he have to spend more than a night cooped up here. You had just started to turn to the door when… 

“Let me walk you back to your quarters.”

Even your exhausted state couldn’t stop you from feeling the nervous excitement starting in your chest, given that it was Grey who offered. Outwardly, all you gave was a polite, thankful nod, before saying goodnight to the others and heading for the door.

There was a brief, comfortable silence for the first few moments you two walked together down the corridor, before he cleared his throat.

“I’m…sorry about them, sometimes they forget that comments like that can make civilians uncomfortable.”

You turned a smile on him and, again because it was him, it was easy to make it warm. “Don’t worry, Grey, I wasn’t uncomfortable.”

His mouth twisted a little as he looked at you from the corner of his eye, “You just seemed…a little stressed when I came in, I assumed it was because of their flirting.”

“Oh! Oh no, it wasn’t that,” you laughed lightly, hoping to put his mind at ease, “I’m just tired is all. You know I spend all my time here on the ship worrying about you boys, it was a long day of that when we lost contact with your recon team.”

Finally, it was his turn to grin and your heart did its typical pitter patter whenever he smiled at you. Unfortunately, the look vanished as suddenly, he stopped in his tracks and held back a grunt of some kind. Then he was turning his head away from you, fist shooting up to cover his mouth as he let out a string of deep coughs.

“Grey, are you alright?” you stepped a little closer to him as he tried to hold back another cough, then cleared his throat.

He nodded his head, trying for that small, lopsided smile again, “ ‘m fine, just a scratchy throat.”

Your eyes narrowed, “Should I be sending you back to the med bay?”

As if to usher you along, he started walking again, pointedly in the direction of the lifts. “No no, I’m fine. Promise. I think the plant-life around the old ‘sep base just got to me a little bit.”

Even though you had resumed walking beside him, you still kept your gaze concerned and a little suspicious. “If it gets any worse, you call me, or go to the medic on duty, understand?”

“Sir, yes, sir” he said as if you were his CO, though his tone was lighter this time and he was still smiling.

The two of you walked in silence for a few moments, then this time he cleared his throat in a way that might have had nothing to do with his cough. “So, what you said earlier…you really don’t mind the flirting?”

You let out a little huff of laughter, “Not really, it never goes too far after all. You and your men have always treated me with respect and I know they’d listen if I ever told them it wasn’t appropriate.”

Something in him seemed relieved as he nodded. “Good. I didn’t like the thought that they were crossing a line with you, I’m glad they weren’t. And I’ll…keep that in mind.”

You weren’t exactly sure what he was going to keep in mind, but, given how he suddenly looked like he was turning something over in his head, you decided not to ask.

Another comfortable silence fell over you both for a while, and it wasn’t until you were out of the lift and on the level for your quarters when he struck up some small talk. It wasn’t anything noteworthy, besides the fact that talking to Grey about anything was something you would always welcome. 

Though, he did seem a little different in his way of talking, halting at the end of sentences like he was holding back a question, or taking a breath to prepare for another comment, before closing his mouth silently. It was almost as if he was trying to find an opening to say something specific.

Or, maybe he was just trying to hide his cough from you, because a few steps before reaching your door, he burst into another short fit.

“Grey,” your tone was soft, but firm, “Please go have that checked out, we don’t want our captain getting sick.”

“It’s not bad,” he insisted again, “We have some antihistamines in our emergency med kits, I’ll take one of those and be fine.”

“Grey-”

“You don’t have to worry about me, Doc,” he insisted, not unkindly and with a soft expression that lightened the depth of the scar across his face. You knew that some of the boys liked your fussing, finding it endearing, and you wondered if Grey felt the same.

But it didn’t matter if he liked it or not, you would worry and fuss either way. “Yes, I do have to worry, Grey, it’s my job.”

“I promise if it gets worse, I’ll go straight to the med bay and raise you on the comms to let you say I told you so, how about that?”

Well, that was probably the best you were going to get out of him. “Alright, deal.”

Again, Grey opened his mouth, as though some sentiment or question was on the tip of his tongue. His eyes were even lit up a little, like an idea was sparking something behind them.

Alas, whatever it was, he hadn’t found time to broach the topic before you were at the door to your bunk and he closed his mouth yet again. Still, he shifted for a moment, tucking his helmet under his arm a little more securely as he looked to your door. He hadn’t said goodnight yet, either.

“Grey?”

His eyes finally met yours again and looked a little surprised, “Yeah?”

“Is there… something specific you wanted to talk about?”

For a moment, all he did was stare back at you, again, seeming to think something over in his mind. Finally, though, he closed his eyes and let out a small breath, then looked at you again with a polite smile.

“Maybe another time. For now, you need your rest, can’t have our favorite medic this tired.”

You nodded, maybe feeling a little disappointed, but respected whatever decision it was he had come to. “Sir, yes sir,” you said with a little salute. “Goodnight, Grey.”

“Goodnight, Doc.”

The next morning, you had just gotten your hands on your first cup of caf in the mess hall when your commlink beeped. The code was Styles’ and your brow furrowed in confusion as you answered.

“Um, hey, Doc, the Captain told me to call you and say ‘you told him so’?”

Well, kriff.

You were down in the med bay in record time, even leaving your drink behind, a testament to just how much this particular man meant to you. There was the on-duty medic and Styles, flanking a very dizzy looking Grey who was dressed in nothing but his blacks. Though he was sitting upright on the bed, he looked half ready to tip over with the way he was swaying.

“He insisted that you be the one to look him over,” said the other medic, stepping aside as you approached.

“ ‘Course I did,” Grey mumbled, eyes barely staying open, “I promised Doc could say told you so…so-” he waved his hand at you, as if presenting a valid point with the gesture.

“As you can tell, he’s a bit delirious,” your colleague huffed.

Grey opened his mouth to say something to the other medic, but when your hands reached up to press against his forehead, he let out a long breath instead. “Ooh, your hands are niiice.”

It was no wonder he thought so, he was burning up badly, the fever coating his face in a sheen of sweat. He burst into a horrendous fit of coughs then, worse than last night and sounding full of phlegm.

“I was on my way back to my bunk when I found him slumped against the walls of the corridor near his quarters,” Styles informed as you took Grey’s pulse the moment the coughing died down, “said he was trying to get to the med bay so he wouldn’t make you mad.” Then he actually huffed out a chuckle. “Or at least, that’s what I gathered from his babbling.”

“Alright, Captain,” you started, gently guiding him, “lay back, let’s run some tests and find out what’s going on.”

“-don’t have to call me Captain, good-lookin’,” Grey mumbled with an attempt at a smile while he did as you asked.

Figuring that keeping him talking was good, you quirked an eyebrow as you grabbed the scanner, “Good-looking, huh? And here you were scolding Styles for flirting just last night- No no, lay on your back, Grey, keep still,” you insisted when he tried to roll over on his side towards you.

The action caused another bout of choked hacking to ensue but Grey obeyed, staying flat on his back, even as he kept slurring nonsense when he could speak again. “Want to flirt… Wanted last night… chickened out. You’re too sweet when you fuss over me.”

You tried to ignore the heat creeping across your face, this was no time to feel flattered or embarrassed by his words, ones that you barely caught as you read the data scrolling across the screen of your scanner. Styles was silent as you worked and Grey rambled on, a sign of just how worried he was about his brother. Hopefully your tests would bear good news, and Styles could tease his Captain’s hypocrisy in no time.

“Haven’t said told you so yet.” Grey said it just barely above a hum, eyes fluttering shut as more sweat beaded on his forehead.

“I’ll say it later, for now you just-”

You were interrupted by a third round of retching and your heart ached at the little groan of pain that rolled out of his mouth at the end of it. Thankfully, your scans were finally done and a little bit of relief filled you.

“Alright, Grey, looks like you have a mild pulmonary infection, nothing too serious,” you smiled down at him then, “though it would have been better if you came here last night, you know, like I told you so.”

The smile he gave back was worn and tired, but no less genuine, “There it is, ’ll listen next time, mesh’la.” More coughs ended his bleary promise, but they were shallow and short this time.

You turned to the other medic, who was already going to the cabinet with the antibiotics in it, and told him exactly what you needed and in what doses. At the moment, you were mostly worried about breaking his fever, while it wasn’t life threateningly high, it was still on the dangerous side.

Then you turned to Styles, “Can you get a patient smock out of the wardrobe? I think he’ll be more comfortable in it than these sweaty blacks.”

Grey hummed loudly, drawing your attention back to him, “Doc, if ya wanted to get m’ clothes off, just had-” another cough, “-ask.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes a little, “Oh, Captain, you’re going to be very upset with your babbling once your fever’s broken.”

He shook his head just as his brother came back with the red two piece outfit. “I won't. Told you, wanted to say all this last night,” his mumbling was a little more clear this time, as if trying to make a point and you weren’t sure how to respond.

Thankfully, the younger medic came back with the needed fluids for the IV and said he would help Grey into the smock while you readied the medication. As the privacy curtain was pulled closed, you could have sworn you heard Styles whisper something about Gray wanting you to undress him instead, but you chose to ignore that as well.

They worked quickly, and the Captain’s treatment was ready by the time the curtain was pulled back. Grey was sitting up again and he stayed like that while you administered the IV. He took it like a champ, though he still looked quite dizzy the whole time he was sitting up.

“Alright, Grey, these fluids will help bring your fever down, and the antibiotics will start clearing up your lungs, I even put in a little something for the pain. We’ll have you feeling better in no time.”

“Hmm,” he cocked his head, “I feel better already,” he hummed as he watched you work, big brown eyes still looking tired. Then, he echoed a sentiment from earlier, “You’re too sweet when you fuss.” 

Again you had to ignore the fact that the flirting, coming from him, made your face heat up. Grey kept his tired eyes on you, even as you motioned for him to lay down again.

“He’s going to be okay, right?” Styles asked in a quiet tone.

You smiled at him reassuringly, “It’ll take some time to clear up the infection, but he should be just fine, nothing our resources can’t handle. Though, I think you should send his helmet down to equipment maintenance, make sure the filters are working right.”

“On it!” He cast a look at his captain, “If you keep flirting with our favorite medic here, make sure you go all out, Cap,” he ended the statement with a wink before heading out of the room.

That made you laugh a little, feeling much more at ease now that your worry had calmed down. A quick look at the time told you that your shift had officially started, so you relieved your colleague, leaving you and Grey as the only ones left in the med center. You had thought that maybe he would fall asleep, but you still felt his eyes on you as you kept working. 

Then, while you were typing up his medical chart, he whispered, “You wanna hear a secret, Doc?”

“What’s that, Grey?”

“If I wasn’t sick, I’d ask if it’s okay to kiss you.”

That made your eyes go wide and your fingers halted their tying on the datapad. You weren’t sure if it was his fever, the pain medicine, or a mixture of both making him even bolder than before, but this time, his comment was hard- or rather, impossible, to ignore. When you looked down at him over the pad, his eyes were fluttering again, the exhaustion of his fever and relief of the medicine kicking in making it harder to stay awake.

“Wanted…” he hummed, coughed once, then tried to look up at you only to close his eyes again. “...Have to get better at…flirting first…Then I’ll ask…”

Despite how easy it would be to pretend you didn’t hear or understand him, you found yourself answering him. 

“Ask me when you’re healed up, Grey.” 

You said it quietly, but there was an undeniable lift to the corner of his mouth before he finally drifted off to sleep.

Overall, you deeply disliked the way the troops were treated by the overseers of the GAR, but, one thing that you would give credit for, was that they actually provided their medical division with good supplies. Thanks to that, Grey was cleared of his illness quickly and didn't have any signs of lasting symptoms. 

You wish you had been the one to give him his final check up and clear him for duty, but you weren’t. Instead you were stuck in a meeting that all head medics employed by the GAR had to sign into via holocomms. 

Fortunately, it didn’t take long for him to seek you out.

Grey caught you late in the evening, a few hours after your meeting, standing in the hallway conversing with some of your newest staff. Respectful as always, he waited patiently for you to finish your talk, though your skin felt warm knowing his eyes were trained on you the whole time. Had he come to see you because of what you said about that kiss he seemed to want? No, no, he was half asleep, surely he was just there because he knew you wanted to see him all healed up.

Once the nurses finished with their last question and took their leave, you turned to the captain with a warm look. He looked as healthy as ever, skin his usual tanned  tone, eyes bright, mind seeming alert and present.

“I see you’re back on your feet.”

“Thanks to you,” he said lightly as he took a few steps closer to you. He must have noted the late hour, because he asked, “Are you heading back to your quarters?” and when you nodded he seemed to straighten just a little, as if reading himself. “I’ll walk with you.”

“Alright,” you found your own tone a little teasing as you two started walking, “but if you start coughing again, you better listen to me when I tell you to go get it checked this time.”

He chuckled, “Don’t worry, cyare, I’ll make sure to listen to you next time.”

Again, he seemed to make your heart skip a beat with nothing but a simple endearment. At least you were able to compose yourself. “Good, I’m glad someone’s learning to listen to me around here.” Your tone had no bite to it, and you could tell Grey knew it with the way he flashed you a smirk.

Unlike the last time he had walked you to your door, you were much closer to your quarters this time and any conversation you two would have had couldn’t last long. You asked how he was feeling like any good friend would, and he told you he was fine, that you didn’t have to worry. He asked what your plans were when the ship landed on Coruscant and you were only half joking when you said “sleep”.

Then, just like the other night, when you two reached your door, he seemed to hesitate, something weighing on his mind. Except this time, he actually spoke up.

“So, I wanted to talk to you about something.” He looked over at you from the corners of his eyes and when you only looked back at him patiently, he went on. “I know I was feverish that first day in the med bay but…” he rolled his shoulders, “I heard what you said after I made that comment about wanting to kiss you.”

Your heart was suddenly acting as if it was competing in the galactic gymnastic championship, somersaulting in your chest and leaving a nervous heat to creep across your skin.

This time it was you who cleared your throat, “O-oh, you did?”

Finally, he turned his body to face you fully, his face set in determination. “Yeah, I did. And you should know that I might have rambled those things because I was sick, but I still meant every word of it.”

That caused your breath to hitch and you found yourself taking a step closer to him. “You did?”

At the soft, hopeful sound of your voice, his determined expression softened and now he was giving that cute, lopsided smile again. “I did. I really, really like you, have since the day you first stepped on board.” He let out a little laugh then, “I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve wanted to tell you that, or how many times I’ve wanted to ask to kiss you, but I’m not the best at flirting.”

“Oh I don’t know, you did alright the other day.”

That earned another small chuckle. You realized then that you were holding your breath, waiting for him to make good on what you said that day when you thought he was falling asleep. 

It must have clicked for him too.

Grey’s eyes somehow softened more as he took another step closer and reached out his hand. Your breath hitched when his fingers gently brushed your cheek, then you held your breath altogether when his thumb ran over your bottom lip.

“Can I kiss you?”

The air held in your chest pushed out with a breathy, “Yes!”

And you saw his eye shining for only a moment before he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. It was light at first, a nearly feather-light touch that nevertheless took your breath away again. Then, he was tilting his head and slipping the hand at your cheek to cup the back of your neck instead. It was all too gentle, even when he started moving his lips against yours in a way that told you just how much he had been craving this moment.

Who knew how long the kiss went on, all that mattered was that your head was spinning by the time you two finally parted.

“Wow.” Both of you said it at the same time, which made you both laugh together too.

“If it leads to moments like this, maybe I should land myself in the med bay more often,” he winked.

You groaned at the thought, “Oh, please don’t, my heart couldn’t take it!”

Grey was chuckling again and this time, he slipped his hand to your waist and pulled you even closer to him. When he spoke again, his tone was deep, yet playfully intimate. “Then I guess I’ll have to find other ways to make your heart race.”

And you knew he would make good on that promise too.

#rare clone fic exchange #rare clone fic submission #tcw grey #captain grey #tcw captain grey #tbb grey #tbb captain grey #tbb grey x reader #captain grey x reader #x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader

[ostentatiouslyonigiri]

Yandere!Hisoka xReader Drabble

A/N: So yeah, I had been sitting in this one for 2(?) years now. I think I posted this previously on my other blog @Needygirl17. Anywho, this isn't proofread, so you've been warned 😅

Stumbling into your room after managing to lock the door , you had only one thought on your mind: ‘No more’. With great anticipation, and legs that seemed to be weighed down with the weight of two ton bricks, your body seemed to be in agreement with your mind regarding your escapades with a certain clown.

What began as fun, had certainly faded into a mixture of regret, irritation, and exhaustion. From the constant evasion of playing cards that came with every confrontation , to the ever more constant utterances of “Let’s do this again soon”( a promise that was surprisingly kept, though inconsistently), you had grown tired of the relentless cat and mouse game the magician had forced you into.

Assessing the the now dark red, crusted over laceration on your arms, thighs, and abdomen, you gave company to the original thought that had immediately struck you before: 

“ No more Hisoka”.

There in the quiet of your dingy room, you relished in it. For once in the past few months there was silence. For once in what seemed like forever, there was tranquility. For once, in what seemed like too long, there was no more--“Oh dear. Perhaps I was too rough this time~”. Hisoka. Had this been the first time this happened,you would have wondered how he got in, but at this point, the question no longer even crossed your mind earnestly. 

 “Did you not enjoy our time together~”? Utterly drained dry of any real emotion other than fatigue, you withheld a smart ass comment that seemed to always make up your conversations with Hisoka. Except this time. As he began to speak again, the words that followed moments after shocked you. He said something that you would never guess would come out the selfish man before you: “Let me make it up to you”. 

Hisoka is a “ man of delicate tastes”; but in all your time of being with him, you had only ever associated his “tastes” with fighting and violence. Well, put an emphasis on had. As he slowly entered your womanly heaven with his anything but angelic tongue, you watched as it disappeared in an act that only a magician could muster. 

You laid there, writhing and wriggling in what seemed like the world’s own gift to you for dealing with the clown’s myriad of escapades. As time went on, the room’s silence gradually began to be replaced with sounds of Hisoka’s appreciation for your sex and your appreciation for his. You were no stranger to Hisoka’s sexual side, but it often came when he was brutally murdering his opponent or painting the floors of the Heaven’s Arena red with another one of his “ripened fruit” ;all with his card-ladened hands and the flick of a wrist. Curiously, said hands were showing a kind of care that one would expect from a seasoned lover and not that of a seasoned murderer. 

His tongue danced and glided along your clit with poise while his clawed digit slowly entered you. With a gasp, you relished in the sharpness of his nails as it poked your walls, hastened it’s pace, and was joined by a second. How could fingers used to causing so much pain cause so much pleasure? The answer didn’t matter, as long as his fingers kept dancing and inching further and further into your ever building core, all that mattered in the world was you and him. You were getting closer now, and your hands, as if having an agenda of its own,dug sharply into his scalp and pushed Hisoka’s head further into your slit. 

All fell silent; the slick sounds of him exploring your sweet slowed to a stop and the air grew menacing. All it took was a small look down to see that Hisoka’s eyes had turned into mere slits and his golden orbs served to convey something that,in your situation of vulnerability, was a very bad thing: Bloodlust.

Gameover.This was it. This was the moment that he was going to kill you and leave you as just another forgotten toy to be discarded. Tears began to prick the side of your eyes as you prepared for the worst. His smile grew and coiled like a vine around a twig.

To your surprise, suddenly Hisoka had you on top of him. His vice-like grip firmly placed you on his bulging member as he began to rock his hips.From tip to mid shaft, your pussy let it sink into you as if welcoming in an old friend. The stretch was painfully exquisite as you left out a desperate moan. Had you not already been wet from earlier, his thick cock would have been too much to bear. Groaning needingly, he began to speak: “ Mmmm~, (Y/n), who knew you would be so much fun~?’’ The straining in his voice was followed by the sharp rolling of his hips as it rubbed roughly against your clit made you let out a squeak. “ I want to break you, (Y/n). I want you to break me!’’ His pace quickened even more as he guided your hands to the one wound you managed to inflict on him. Knowing what to do, you clamped down into the barely healed wound and exerted all your frustration and need into it. The blood peeking from the newly opened wound soaked your hand while the other went shyly for his throat. 

Emboldened by your new dominant position, you squeezed his throat and abused him verbally as he was abusing your pussy.” You like that don’t you slut?” The words as they began pouring out of your mouth both surprised and embarrassed you, but this was no time for being shrewd. Insult after insult, affront after affront, Hisoka began to unwind more and more. His movements became more desperate and frenzied. So were you. Gradually, you found that your insults became more and more incoherent as you settle to only focusing on chasing your orgasm. 

You could already feel the pressure in your core begin to build until it became too much.

 “ H-Hisoka!” In what seemed like a wave of exhaustion crashing down upon you, you fell against him as you let him use your body as his own. Within what seemed like forever, he finally came, flooding your walls with his seed as slammed into you one last time. “ Aaaauuh. (Y/n)!”

You relax in his arms as you feel his cum pour out of you, your walls aching from the abuse. You were exhausted, but not like before. You were content; soaking in the warmth of Hisoka and willing to put aside your stress- for now. Shifting towards you, was his usual shit-eating grin and a smart ass comment that you knew the magician all too well for:“ So, did I make it up to you~?” With a sigh you rested your head against his chest, too tired now to answer.

“We really should do this again, soon~”

#yandere #hisoka #hisoka morrow x reader #hunter x hunter #hxh x reader #hxh #fanfic #yandere imagines

[punsmaster69]

1/NOV/20XX

"..ARE YOU STAYING THERE ALL DAY?"

"that's the plan."

"......"

"IF YOU NEED ANYTHING, YOU KNOW WHERE I AM."

it's weird to wish he was telling me off, instead.

he would have said something like,

'sans, you lazybones!! get off the couch and come outside!'

before.

and i'd have peeled myself off the couch, shuffled out, and helped. (even if minimally.)

so that's what i'll do.

i have to try and be normal.

i have to try and...

.......

..at least say that i am.

"OH!"

he slid down a ladder propped against the roof.

"DO YOU NEED SOMETHING ALREADY, SANS?"

"want a hand?"

"I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO STAY INSIDE?"

"changed my mind."

"THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS MORE THAN CAPABLE OF TAKING DOWN HALLOWEEN DECOR BY HIMSELF!! SO IF YOU NEED TO LAY DOWN, PLEASE CONTINUE TO."

"don't need to. was just being lazy."

"want me to get up there instead?"

"NO!"

"I- I THINK YOU WOULD BE MORE HELPFUL CLOSE TO THE GROUND."

"..ok."

——

"I THINK THE WIND MAY HAVE TAKEN OFF WITH SOMETHING. DEFINITELY ONE LESS OF THESE GHOSTS THAN THERE WAS BEFORE."

"r.i.p."

"IT'S PROBABLY IN A BETTER PLACE NOW.."

"like someone else's yard."

"WITH LOTS OF NEW GHOST FRIENDS!"

——

"HOW CAN WE NOT FIT EVERYTHING?"

"just no room."

"IT'S THE SAME NUMBER OF BOXES, RIGHT? WE DIDN'T FORGET ANY?"

"nope. they're all here."

"WE EVEN 𝘓𝘖𝘚𝘛 DECORATIONS!! HOW DO THEY NEVER FIT BACK?!"

"beats me."

he sighed in exasperation.

"WHAT NOW?"

"we could take everything back out and try again."

——

"THEY STILL DON'T FIT."

"did you buy more decorations throughout the month?"

"I HAVEN'T."

"DID YOU?"

"nope."

"....."

"LET'S TRY TAKING THEM OUT AGAIN...?"

"or we could just get another box."

"THERE HAS TO BE A SOLUTION!!"

"we're gonna be out here all night if we just keep rearranging everything."

"THAT'S SUCH A WASTE OF SPACE."

"BUT, ANOTHER BOX IT IS, BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO BE AT THIS FOREVER, EITHER."

way too many times has this exact thing happened.

somehow we always do this with the decorations.

it's a tossup whether it'll be the halloween decor we can't fit quite back the same or the gyftmas decor.

speaking of gyftmas, the weather kinda feels like it ought to be december already.

if it rained again, we'd probably end up with snow.

this time last year, it was still pretty warm.

said it before and it's still just as true:

surface weather is inconsistent.

——

paps kept staring at me, specifically into my sockets.

"...YOUR PUPIL LIGHTS."

"what about 'em?"

"......"

"ARE THEY DIMMER?"

"pretty sure they're the same."

"..NO."

"THEY'RE DEFINITELY DARKER THAN USUAL."

"ARE YOU NOT FEELING WELL?"

"sorta tired, but it is getting late."

"THEN GOODNIGHT, SANS!"

"not-"

"........"

everything is...impacting me more than i hoped.

i can probably buy myself a bit more strength as long as i-

"I DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT CONTEMPLATIVE LOOK IS FOR, BUT WHAT I DO KNOW IS THAT YOU 𝗔𝗥𝗘 GOING TO BED."

"i'll-"

"NOPE. I WON'T HEAR IT!"

suddenly the choice was no longer mine. i was swiftly scooped off the couch and carried to bed in a matter of seconds.

".....i don't-"

"PLEASE... STOP."

"I DON'T KNOW WHY YOU'RE DOING THIS TO YOURSELF, BUT I WON'T HAVE IT!"

.....

the chances that i don't wake up feel too high to sleep comfortably.

#journal #undertale #sans #papyrus #sans and papyrus #papyrus and sans #skelebros

[daydreaming-en-pointe]

⇢ ˗ˏˋ you know the greatest loves of all time are over now. ࿐ྂ

Pairing: Hobie Brown (Spider-Punk) x GN!Reader

Type: Oneshot - Angst

Warnings: Angst, Reader is dead (died before the events of ATSV), Hobie visits their grave, mentions of death (and grief), use of nicknames (sunshine, my love), inconsistent-ish Hobie accent (I’m trying my best but this man’s accent is so confusing 😭)

Word count: 930

A/N: This is my first proper attempt at angst with Hobie, and I’m still getting the hang of it so any constructive criticism or feedback is welcome! 💜

I might’ve gotten a bit carried away lmao

We never painted by the numbers, baby

But we were making it count

You know the greatest loves of all time are over now

I guess you never know, never know

And it’s another day waking up alone

(the 1 by Taylor Swift)

Inky tendrils of darkness curled into the atmosphere, chasing away any traces of light remaining. Cruelly fitting, he had to admit, considering the reason for his visit.

Everyone was probably either asleep or trying to get there, but he couldn’t sleep. How could he? It wasn’t like his thoughts were occupied by anything else. The incident had happened a few months ago, yet it was all he could remember during the darkest hours of the night when he didn’t have it in him to push it away, to bury it under a false sense of happiness like trying to hold a sheet of glass together while it was cracking. Glue could only do so much to hold the fragile shards together.

Your voice, your laugh, the way your eyes scrunched when you smiled, how you would dance around to your favourite song, the way you could soothe his worries that would spiral into despair without you and calm him with a simple embrace.

He remembered everything clearly, which only added to the pain of it all. Jokes which were so bad that they got you giggling almost hysterically, spinning around on rooftops, tending to his wounds, making him food when he was exhausted, loyally coming to every one of his shows, painting his nails, waking up practically wrapped around him like a koala, cuddling after long, tiring days, holding him close and whispering sweet reassurances that he so easily believed as they fell from your lips.

“Wha’ would I ever do without ya, sunshine?”

Those words so innocently chuckled out on a park bench, his head on your lap while he looked up at you like you were the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen — which, of course, you were in his eyes.

Now he didn’t have to imagine.

It was truly twisted how fate could snatch someone so suddenly, right after they’d promised that they’d be there forever. Twisted that he had just enough time to start believing that out of all the inconsistencies in his life, you might be an exception, one for the better.

Hobie stood in the bitter cold, the light dusting of snow mingling with mud crunching under his boots. The thin material of his leather vest and trousers on top of his spider suit was definitely not enough to keep him warm, but he was barely registering the chill creeping in through his clothes as he pulled off his mask.

His eyes ghosted over your tombstone, reading the all-too-familiar words etched into the stone. He let a shaky exhale and leaned down to drop a bundle of flowers in front of the unforgiving marble, displaying that name - carrying so much gravity because of the person it once belonged to - with a ruthless, twisted sort of pride.

The birthday - no, birth anniversary - of the love of his life. Those two words sounded hollow and meaningless, yet carried the weight of an impossibly heavy truth behind them. You were gone. You were never coming back. You would never be able to come running and leap into his arms again, never be able to fall into that familiar rhythm that belonged to you two alone.

“‘Ey, sunshine. It’s me again. Happy birthday, my love.” He still called you that, even months after your passing. It wasn’t like he didn’t notice the pitying glances and sad little sighs at the nickname. Oh, he noticed them alright. That just made him stubbornly insist on calling you that even more.

He sat down on the ground, tucking his legs underneath him to get down to the headstone’s level. As if someone hidden behind the invisible veil of life and death could meet his eyes and give him that smile that used to make his heart flare every time without fail. As if said someone could make the hurt go away with a gentle kiss, get him thinking about something else like changing the channel on a radio station.

“I miss you. A lot. I wish you were ‘ere. And I’m sorry I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t protect you. I know you wouldn’t want me to beat myself up about it, but…” Hobie trailed off, trying to swallow the lump in his throat that made his voice sound thick to his own ears. “Anyway. There’s this kid who got recruited into the Spider Society. Remember, I told you about it before… yeah. ‘Er name’s Gwen, ‘er dad - ‘e’s a cop - threa’ened to arrest ‘er so I took ‘er in. Spider-Woman’s viewed as criminal in their universe, so obviously that doesn’t work well for ‘er. She’s a wicked drummer. I wish you two could meet, you’d love ‘er.”

He cut himself off as his voice broke at the end, closing his eyes as he allowed a few tears to well up. “I got you somethin’, by the way.”

He reached into his pocket and brought out a tiny clay tabby cat that he had made himself. He was so proud of it because its eyes reminded him of you, sparkly and crinkled with amusement in some ways but mostly kind. Kind eyes that held enough understanding behind them for anyone to feel safe.

He set it down amongst the flowers in front of your gravestone, nestling it in the comfort of a curtain of petals. “I didn’t tell you this since I wanted it to be a surprise, but… I was gonna get you a kitten for your birthday. We could’ve taken care of it together. Your constant pesterin’ would’ve finally paid off.“

I guess it’s too late now.

Hobie slowly got to his feet, trying to force a smile for you before giving up and just pulling his mask on again, feeling his tears sink into the fabric as it brushed against his eyelids.

“I’ll come visit you again soon, sunshine. I’ll bring my guitar too, maybe play you a song or two. Promise. I love you.” He brushed his fingers against the top of the gravestone, where a thin carpet comprised of tiny flecks of snow had gathered. The knowledge that you’d never be able to echo that sentiment back to him again pierced a hole through his heart for the umpteenth time.

I miss you more than I ever thought was possible.

@hobiebrownismygod @l0starl @therealloopylupin2099

#⋆·˚ 🌹 ༘ * — 𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗶’𝘀 𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙨! #⋆·˚ 🌺 ༘ * — 𝙝𝙞𝙗𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙨! #atsv #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #atsv hobie #hobie atsv #hobie spiderverse #atsv x reader #atsv x gn reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x gn!reader #hobie brown x gender neutral reader #hobie angst #atsv angst #gn reader

[dream-meister-translations]

PERSONA 5 : THE PHANTOM X

PERSONA 5 : THE PHANTOM X BETA - PART 1

NOTE :These translations are done using the Chinese version of the game, we apologize for any inconsistencies that may come with an official English release.

━

STATION ANNOUNCEMENT : The tram is steadily approaching the station. Please, for safety measures, step behind the yellow line and wait for the doors to open. Be mindful of the gap between the platform and the tracks. 

-

WOMAN WEARING GLASSES : Alright, that concludes the class syllabus. Now please pass this career survey around the room. Remember to sign your name. 

WOMAN WEARING GLASSES : Oh, and I'm sure MOST of you are intelligent enough to figure this out, but please refrain from using an online gamer tag or nickname. 

WOMAN WEARING GLASSES : For example, I would write ; Kumi Katayama. 

KUMI KATAYAMA : It may seem silly to explain it this way, but it will look bad on me if you kids mess up.

KUMI KATAYAMA : In any case, pass it around and sign your name!

-

WONDER : (There we go...I wrote my name...Huh...Suddenly, I feel really tired...)

-

IGOR : Hehehe... He's the one, right? 

MEROPE : Indeed. Welcome. 

IGOR : This is what you can refer to as the "Velvet Room." Ah, I spoke before introducing myself. How rude. Please, call me Igor. As for this one over here, you may call her Merope.

MEROPE : It's a pleasure to meet you.

IGOR : This room is situated on the cusp between dreams and reality. Between the mental and the material. You have made a certain "choice", haven't you? That's why you have arrived as my special "guest." 

WONDER : A choice? 

IGOR : Yes. What I mean to say is, this is a "choice" you made of your own free will. Haven't you realized that yet? This room is not visible to just anyone. 

MEROPE : This is an underwater tunnel in the sea of your mind. 

IGOR : Without you even realizing it, you have shown me your desire for "curiosity." So, this concludes our meeting for now. 

IGOR : Oh, and last piece of advice : "Lack of desire" can often times lead to giving up on life...Please remember these words, for I wish to see you again in the future. 

MEROPE : In a world like this, there are many individuals like you. I hope you can one day understand and appreciate Master's advice. 

IGOR : Sorry for keeping you so long. Well then, I am looking forward to when next we meet. Hehehe...

-

PURPOSEFUL FEMALE STUDENT : Hey, Wonder, what's up with you? You look like you're thinking really hard about something. 

PURPOSEFUL FEMALE STUDENT : Is this about your future plans...You still haven't looked into anything, have you?

WONDER : (Higher education...Employment...What will the future hold for me...?)

PURPOSEFUL FEMALE STUDENT : You still can't decide what you wanna do?

WONDER : For now.

KUMI KATAYAMA : Arai-san, do you have any questions?

MOTOHA ARAI : Ah, Katayama-sensei...

KUMI KATAYAMA : I was informed that those of you students who refuse to check a career path on the sheet will be labeled as "lacking ambition." Let me take that.

She takes the career survey and returns to her desk.

MOTOHA ARAI : Katayama-sensei is making her angry face again...

KUMI KATAYAMA : That concludes today's class. You are dismissed. 

KUMI KATAYAMA : ...Ah, before I let you kids go, there was another incident in the news recently. 

KUMI KATAYAMA : Your school uniforms already make you stand out on the streets. Keep your heads down and be careful not to draw too much attention to yourselves. You might end up targets. 

KUMI KATAYAMA : Now class is dismissed. 

-

KUMI KATAYAMA : You boys nearly ran into me. Let me guess, you were playing games on your phone again? 

Kumi Katayama is berating two students in the hallway outside of the classroom. She spots Wonder as he heads in their direction.

KUMI KATAYAMA : Ah, Wonder. One moment please. 

KUMI KATAYAMA : You two may go without punishment, but remember to be more careful and pay attention to where you're walking. 

The boys nod despondently and walk away. 

KUMI KATAYAMA : The least they could do is apologize or make an excuse...It's like they don't care at all...

She turns her attention to Wonder. 

KUMI KATAYAMA : Sorry for calling you over right after class dismissed. I promise not to take much of your time. It's just that I noticed you left all the boxes unchecked on your career survey. 

KUMI KATAYAMA : Is there really nothing you care about or want to do in the future? You can write anything at all. For example, maybe you want to get famous? Or make a lot of money? 

WONDER : Hopes for my future...

KUMI KATAYAMA : Yes, any hopes you have...It can even start small and simple...

KUMI KATAYAMA : .......

KUMI KATAYAMA : This is probably our fault as the adults and your instructors. We must not be setting good examples for you children...Ugh...I have a headache...

WONDER : Katayama-sensei...?

KUMI KATAYAMA : Hm...? I-It's nothing. I have a lot I need to arrange for my next class. If you think of something to write, please do come tell me. Anytime. 

KUMI KATAYAMA : Thank you for listening. Be careful out there.

#persona 5 #p5x #persona 5 phantom x #p5x translation #persona 5 phantom x translation #persona 5 x #persona 5 x translation #p5px #p5px translation #p5xpart1

[residentraccoon]

Ok we have all the songs, time to make a top, with comments even 😳

1. Norway - I love love love this one, this eerie, thrilling melody mixed with the medieval theme and old norwegian language just makes this song perfect and no other song of this year can come any closer to it. Very unique, true to their homeland, absolute masterpiece. I'm definitely following more of Gåte's discography from now on!

2. Estonia - Well they're singing about drugs here and this song is exactly like a drug - addictive. What sells it is their awesome, slightly batshit crazy energy (I absolutely love it) and let's not forget the traditional instruments. I can see a Trenulețul scenario with this one tbh.

3. Slovenia - Absolutely magical, the structure of this song is pretty uncommon and the lil RRAH sounds are interesting, love how it takes a while to build-up and I just get chills all over. This one is a piece of art.

4. San Marino - This song is destroying my Spotify wrapped and it's not even funny, there's something about this one that makes it instantly addictive. I've listened to Megara since last year when they were at Spain's NF with Arcadia and all I can say is that I love their style. Sassy pink and punk rock with a touch of Spanish traditional sounds during the bridge, they just mesh together so well. I don't understand why it's so underrated (currently last in the odds lmfao) and I'm looking forward to their live performance.

5. Denmark - Generic pop song my beloved, why is it so catchy though? I've said it in a previous post, I just reminds me of songs I'd hear in 2013 or so and I love the "Oh-Oh" parts. Lovely

6. Lithuania - The beat hits, it's just awesome fr. Lovely staging and colors, Lithuanian sounds so pretty and melodic as well as his voice.

7. Belgium - Wonderful build-up, the song at first sounds very chill and gives me Blanche vibes (I looked it up and they have the same composer so not surprised lmao) but man, the climax is greaaaaat!! Especially with that choir in the backing. My only gripe would be that he keeps repeating the title over and over again, which can become a bit tiring. But just a bit. It's still a great song!

8. Switzerland - I don't know whose idea was to mix opera and drum n bass together but they're a genius, this is really cool, like absolutely nuts. I love how the bridge is very soft and quiet, opposing the loud and dramatic chorus, I feel like the song itself is pretty messy and inconsistent but I really like that, it's very out of the box and innovative. Genius entry.

9. Latvia - Underrated, I can see why it might fail to grab an audience in the fandom but I really like this one, especially his voice. The song flows nicely too, I only wish the staging would be a bit more...dynamic though? I really want Latvia to qualify for once, felt like it might have a chance since it could attract some casual viewers (some of my casual friend watchers really liked it!) but seeing how brutal semifinal 2 is (and one spot will be inevitably taken by...yeah won't elaborate) I'm afraid Latvia's out for this year as well. I hope at least for a surprise or who knows. That's only how I feel at this moment.

10. Spain - My biggest grower of this year and a total banger, I don't understand why it slaps so hard it has no business to, the message is SO real and it's so unapologetically sassy.

11. Czechia - Same story as with Latvia, underrated to hell and back, I know the live version is...a lil terrible but the studio one I really like. Love how you can feel the frustration through her shouty lyrics and how she's blaming herself for not loving herself more instead (also the beginning might or might not remind me of Aijā I mean the intro with the drums makes me think of it-) ANYWAY

12. Croatia - Listen I'm very happy for Croatia being seen as a most likely winner of this year, they deserve it, Baby Lasagna is an amazing man and the message is on point, even if it's not exactly my favorite I definitely root for him!! Please meow back if you agree. Besides this, the glam ethno rock sound is just 👌 chef's kiss

13. Armenia - Love love love that they brought something ethnic!! The girl's energy is infectious and she's such a joy to watch, the music video is very pretty and describes their culture so well, overall I adore this.

14. Netherlands - GREAT I relistened to it so I can rank it and now I have Europapapapapapa stuck in my head how wonderful. This tells me already that this is such an infectious bop that will never leave your head. Possible televote winner, love the quirkiness and Joost is really goofy we stan.

15. Greece - Welcome to Greece, everyone who visits the country is obligated to listen to this the moment they step out of the plane- /j It's so Greek, so fun, so ethnic, geez what's happening with everyone being so diverse and true to their culture this year? This song screams summer vacation in Greece and I'm here for it.

16. France - The raw emotions in this...he sings with his heart and soul, his voice is very deep and gruff which feels a bit unusual to hear such an intimate and emotional ballad from him, but this is what makes the song special.

17. Italy - Love her attitude and how she sells the song, it's very sassy and fun, won't be surprised to see Italy get yet another Top 5 finish with this.

18. Ukraine - Interesting mix of melancholic pop and energetic chanting and rap. Alyona just nails the rap part perfectly. Overall nice song, grew off me but still great.

19. Ireland - This makes me have chills all over my body. It's very haunting and suspenseful, I love the uncommon unique sound and how they recite the lyrics as they are a poem/creating a curse, I simply love how avant-garde Ireland are this year! Finally they're taking a risk and even if the song is unconventional i hope it will have a following that will help them get through the semi! 🤞

20. Poland - Oh look another grower, it's such a cute song for some reason and her voice is so pleasant to the ears.

21. Serbia - At first I thought it's a bit boring but now I find myself mumbling "Lila Ramondaaaa", like it has a hook even if it's a melancholic ballad.

22. Portugal - The emotions in this are immaculate, she conveys all her struggles in life so well into a ballad that's somewhat soft-sounding. Epic.

23. Australia - For some reason this song takes me back to 2015-2016 and I don't get why?? Maybe I heard music that's similar to this in that period, who knows. That chorus slaps immensely, as well as the didgeridoo(I hope that's the instrument), but I'm not extremely head over heels about it. It's enjoyable still!

24. Malta - Contrary to popular belief I enjoyed the revamp, she made it easier to sing live and it just has more oomph, good job, Malta.

25. Finland - The whole 3 minutes are absolutely batshit insane and I love it fr, these dudes are a delight to watch. The song tbh I like it but not that much to rank it higher, but I appreciate the craziness, the message, what sells it is definitely the staging and the guys' stage persona.

26. Austria - Mmmmm I know it's a fan favorite but I'm not a big fan of this, like I've said before in some other posts. The hype at first was highly irritating (especially on twitter, dear god 💀) for such a...just okay/good song? First of all I appreciate the throwback to the late 90s/early 00s eurodance/synthpop music that was popular back then, I think it does a great job imitating the vibes of it, but at the same time is it just me or this song feels so...calculated and has this eurovision-specific formula in its structure/sound? It was definitely made for it being performed live and to pander to the yass queen slay ate and left no crumbs-side of the fandom? Which honestly kinda drags it down a lot for me.

27. Sweden - I can't unhear parts of Air in this, well actually that's their style, neat electro pop tbh, I can bop to this, pretty enjoyable.

28. Moldova - Falls flat but what makes it a bit stronger is the vocalisations in the chorus, as well as the lil ethnic sounds. That drum is also quite catchy. They have to pull out a wonder-staging for this to qualify.

29. Georgia - If Georgia isn't qualifying with this one then that means their only hope is borrowing Loreen at this point. It's a competent girl bop with powerful vocals, that has a dedicated following, but I appreciate that even if it's a girl bop it's not so aggressively in your face like...other examples I've seen before. I'm personally not big on it, but it's nice.

30. Azerbaijan - Oh? Azerbaijan sends something in their language, what is this 2050? And not with a melfest reject? For the 2nd year in a row? I'm very impressed, but even with all these I don't feel that attached to the song, just glad they took a risk instead of renting a swede for safe qualification like they did in the past years. I love the ethnic touches though.

31. Luxembourg - Cute and peppy french bop, although a bit generic and that's about it, no strong feelings.

32. Cyprus - Mmm your regular girlie pop of the year, unsurprisingly from Cyprus as well. Pretty catchy, has a cool vibe but I'm not feeling anything about it.

33. United Kingdom - Just a competent mid-tempo boy bop, honestly nothing much to say since it kinda failed to impress me. Good effort though.

34. Albania - I don't get why they changed it into english, why they turned it more upbeat (I liked the balladier version more) and the rap part feels disjointed. Albania wanted to relive their 2016-2017 era I see.

35. Germany - I'm sorry but this song bores me to death and can't listen to it without zoning out which is a shame because he's a competent singer (his voice is the best thing about Germany this year) and I'm afraid they're again heading for a bottom 3 finish 💀

36. Iceland - Mmm this isn't is, Iceland. Very sorry. Sounds like it would get 13th in 2004, it's a very by-the-letters eurodance.

I will not rank Israel here. It's still mind-boggling that they're still allowed to participate.

#txt

[onndough]

Sanji x reader (gn)

Note: I wrote this a super long time ago so there might be some inconsistency. Besides all of that enjoy :)

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

Sanji x reader (gender neutral)

Another mundane week had passed, you wake up everyday preparing yourself for work, paying bills, and serving your civil duties. When all of that wasn’t on the plate, then living out the rest of your time doing whatever could keep your mind occupied from the undying boredom and dread that came with such a stagnant lifestyle was something to think about; the repetitive routine started draining your motivation and it brought sadness, as well as something new that you hadn’t felt,

loneliness.  

Time skip a couple of weeks 

The evening had just come so that meant you were finally off the clock from your shitty job; certifying docuements wasn’t even as terrible as you made it out to be but the people take 10 years off your life yet you can’t leave or demand better because this routine and lifestyle has become too comfortable for anything to change, nothing could possibly interfere and turn your world around, then again would you even want change? 

The loud music across the street had been bashing against your ears whilst you strolled along the stone roads, the scene was something you lived through everyday but tonight was particularly tiring as you had to read reports on a bunch of criminals going into islands nearby and causing chaos whenever they went, some of the locals have been spreading rumors that the criminals are pirates who steal from stores and kill government officials… whatever any of that meant. 

As you passed the stores that lined the main square you decided to distress a bit in one of the cafes you frequented, you just got paid 2 days ago so might as well drown your sunken soul in some sugar. 

Entering the store felt like visiting someone as you were hit with the familiar scent of coffee beans and cleaning supplies, it’s just like your office except it’s slightly better since you get to spend money here, well maybe it’s the same. Ordering the usual made it feel like you were complying with your routine so being a bit adventurous with a drink is something you could change, you ordered a rainbow swirl sugar cookie drink that looked like it came out of a unicorns ass. As you pulled your wallet out to pay the stranger next to you made a sly comment: 

“Thats an interesting choice for a man like you to order, although, a certain reindeer I know would enjoy that drink so maybe it’s good.” 

A reindeer? This guy is friends with animals? Than again you have a cat who you speak to like your best friend so whatever. You decide in your lonely state to strike up a conversation: 

“Oh you have a pet as well? I’ve never heard of someone with a reindeer but it sounds like your friend is a lot of fun” 

The stranger grins at you and starts laughing, you may be dull when it comes to your habits but maybe you still know how to make someone laugh, at least that’s whatthis stranger made you think. While he was laughing himself to death over the pet comment you take the time to look at his features; he had an attractive face with nice eyebrows, his hair covered one of his eyes but that didn’t cover how beautiful his other eye was when he laughed, his stature was relaxed and he dressed fairly well although it seemed like he got roughed up a bit, perhaps he’s a troublemaker or he has some enemies who knows. 

You start to drift off and dream about what this man did in his free time, who was he to the people around him, is he sweet? Good at anything? Does he have anybody that’s waiting for him? What if he’s one of those criminals that’s going around stealing and killing people and now hes at this shop ready to kill everyone before running away with all their mo- well he is kind of attractive so maybe that’s oka– wait no what. 

It takes a few moments for you to compose yourself from your thoughts about this random man, you realise that everything you’ve conjured up in your mind is probably not true, you just met him and you don’t even know his name; although you didn’t know anything about him you still couldn’t shake the feeling of attraction away, deep in thought about a random shop goer was something so typical of you, maybe you were lonelier than you thought… 

“Hey so what would you recommend here? I’m new around here and I figured you were a local so anything good you like?”

You snapped out of it and whipped your head towards the man, he was looking at the menu but also looking at you, wow he is so hot. Giving him a short “let me think about it” you wanted to impress him so it took some time looking at him and over analysing to consider your options, he seemed like someone who would have an overcomplicated order but would enjoy something as simple as mineral water… maybe something fruity:

“Maybe the blueberry lemonade, it’s pretty warm outside so that might help with the heat, it’s also pretty good but what do you think?” 

The man gave you a soft smile and seemed to like your suggestion. He ordered it and even offered to pay for your drink which made your heart do a little jump but you refused, you glanced over at your usual spot and asked if he wanted to join you which he agreed to. You both sat down before the man started asking a few questions about you and began introductions. 

“By the way my name is Sanji, I realised I never told you that but I figured you seemed pretty nice” 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Sanji, I’m _____. So are you visiting this island for anything in particular or just vacationing?” 

“Nothing much, just traveling with a few friends… or you could say crew mates” 

Crew mates..? What is he some traveling merchant? Or maybe a pirate.. There have been some rumors that pirates were spotted around the area. He looks too civil to be a pirate but you can never trust a book by its cover. 

“Well Sanji welcome to the island, I’m sure your friends are having a nice time, this place is kind of known for its vacationing spots. Have you gone—” 

Before you could finish your question you heard a loud BOOM outside

Both you and Sanji look out one of the windows near your seat and find a crowd had gathered near the entrance of the main square, it looked like they were surrouonding someone/a group of people; they seemed to be yelling at them. 

Sanji looks over at you and smiles before saying

“I guess thats my que to start leaving, my crewmates seem to be causing some problems” 

He places some money on the table and gives you a wink before swiftly exiting the building, but not before blowing you a kiss while pushing past the door. 

You felt your heart beat faster as you look down at your drink than over at his finished one, it was definitely an unforgettable experience but you didn’t know how to react. As you start to calm down a little you look at the money he left and realised there was a little note tucked between the bills, it read:

“If we ever meet again you should tell me more about what drinks you like, maybe I could make one for you,

Until next time- Sanji <3” 

You suddenly felt your heart jump out of your chest and you swore it flew to another island. 

#vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #sanji x you #sanji fanfic

[drysdaleknieslee]

Could you write a Juraj slafkovsky x reader smut where they get into a very very heated argument and then they have hate 🔥

-love your works btw

Hold on to your hats because this one is gonna be short but it'll pack a punch!

Simon wasn't one to get angry but the few times you did see him angry honestly scared you. He would never hurt you but you hated confrontation and sometimes he wouldn't let stuff go. But this time instead of giving him the usual silent treatment, you argued back which made the moment worse.

"You're not an athlete I wouldn't expect you to understand how much this means to me!" "I do! Why do you think I come to almost every game? For YOU!"

"Yeah right it's to show off your hockey player boyfriend just to see him lose, right." At this point both of you are seething and you snap.

"Your problem is the fact that you carry all this weight that wasn't yours to bear! And you know what else-"

He's directly in front of you now. His eyes have changed and he's sporting a smirk. Is this fucker enjoying you arguing back for once?

"What about me, miláčik?"

He's doing this on purpose. He leans in near your neck and starts to leave feathery kisses up your neck to the sensitive spot behind your ear.

"That's not fair Simon."

He looks at you innocently before answering, "What do you mean?"

"What you said wasn't nice. You know I don't go to the games to showboat you around. I do it because I care about you and I want to support you as much as I can."

He sighs, leaning his head against your shoulder. "I'm sorry. Our team is just so inconsistent and I'm tired. My play minutes are sky high and I should be grateful but-"

"But if your tired and working yourself to where we fight every night, it's not worth it."

He hums in silent acknowledgement before he starts kissing up your neck again, making you giggle.

"Your still worked up after all that?" "Yes. Because I love you and I love when your angry."

"I'm gonna get angry again if you keep kissing me and not do anything about the rest."

With that, he swiftly lifts you up and places you on the kitchen counter.

"Simon. We eat here." "Baby I'm focused on something else. We'll clean the counters tomorrow."

He taps your thigh signaling you to take you shorts off. He didn't fail to notice the wet spot on your panties.

"Seems like you loved our shouting session as much as I did." he said spreading your legs and running a finger through your folds, causing a shudder to go up your spine.

"Shut up and fuck me Nemec."

He didn't even respond. One full thrust causes you both to open mouth moan, jaws going slack as he's nearly all the way in. He let's out a gutteral groan before thrusting one more time and he's to the hilt.

"Oh my god Simon move." "Oh now your commanding me. I really like when your mad now."

He grabs the back of your knees and you take hold of his shoulders as he gets his pace started and has found a steady beat. Your head falls back and your words are no longer coherent. If him getting you mad does this maybe you should be mad more often.

He's angelling his hips upward which is hitting new spots you didn't even know existed and your high is fast approaching.

"I'm close." "I know, but don't cum unless I tell you to."

Your clenching is nearly sending him over the edge. He reaches one hand to your already abused clit and uses the pad of his rough thumb to add extra stimulation and the whimper that escapes your mouth proves it worked.

"Please Simon!" You say with tears of pleasure in your eyes. Your back is hot against the cold marble and your legs are starting to wobble from the compromising position.

"Cum for me miláčik!"

Your orgasm hits you at the exact moment and your head falls back against the counter while Simon chases his high and comes soon after. Both of you are sweaty in the kitchen and safe to say, you two will most likely have fights more often.

#simon nemec imagines #simon nemec #simon nemec x reader