#regret anything even if it’s unusual. FUCK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!

[pepprs]

hm. i think i am going to stop going to counseling. he does not understand me. he pathologizes things that are not pathological.

#purrs #the premises of counseling / therapy are that you need to have boundaries and be self sufficient and fully healed. FUCK THAT! relationships #are not transactions. we are allowed to need each other. we are allowed to blur lines. we are human and messy. our thoughts and feelings are #PRECIOUS. im not letting go of my thoughts they mean EVERYTHING to me they are the key to the WORLD. im not letting go of redacted why on #EARTH would i stop redacteding to redacted that is HELPFUL for me. i don’t CARE about the roots. who the fuck is it hurting????? NO ONE!!!!! #the way he flat out told me he agrees with my mom. bitch im done forever. im done literaly forever. i don’t know how to tell him but im done #forever. maybe it’s just my id which is what he said to me LMFAO and like maybe i just don’t like being uncomfortable or facing hard truths. #but i don’t fucking think it’s TRUE!!!!!!!!!! yeah i need to grow yeah i have unhealthy behaviors. but i don’t need to let go of the whole #THING bc of some arbitrary transactional concept of what relationships are supposed to be / mean. ive NEVER had a counselor try to uproot th #the whole damn thing like omg what is WRONG with you. i #im paying this man $25 a week to UNDERSTAND me and not ONCE have i felt understood by him. counselors can disagree with me but i literally #never feel like he is on my side. he’s adhering to conventional ideas about what parents are supposed to be and friends are supposed to be a #and work is supposed to be etc etc. and so patronizingly said just enjoy being 23 you don’t wanna waste your 20s! FUCK YOU. i will not #regret anything even if it’s unusual. FUCK YOU!!!!!!!!!!! #and also i know he probably watches back thru the recordings and has like his supervisor and professors watch them too which means that #there is a whole team of scientists + my family studying me in a lab and thinking im insane and finding ways to tell me. but fucking bold of #him to assume he can give me any meaningful valuable insight when he is actively checking his laptop / phone during our sessions and rarely #if eve gives me a chance to drive MY OWN CONVERSATION THAT IM PAYING FOR and is so phony abt being on the recording. like Omg. maybe im just #grown out of it. it fucking SUCKS bc i actually have things i am not normal about and really need help with and i can’t actually get help fr #from ppl whose job it is to fucking help me bc they think im not normal about things i PROMISEEEE i am normal about. and the way i effective #effectively told him that and he responded that he can’t take that credibly bc there’s no action behind it BY WHICH HE MEANS I HAVENT #STOPPED REDACTEDING TO ONE OF THE MOST IMPORTANT REDACTED IN MY WHOLE LIFE? THAT I HAVENT DECIDED IM DONE LEARNING SND GROWING AND CUT IT #OFF?????? DO YOU FUCKING HEAR YOURSELF. INSANE. the ANTITHESIS of human. we are MEANT TO BE CONNECTED. FUCK!!!!!!!!! #delete later #my old counselors challenged me and disagreed with me b it i never felt like they flat out were unwilling to meet me where i am and #compromise with me. is that not what counselors are supposed to do???? or have i just had bad counselors until now??? because im NORMAL. i #swear to fucking god. im normal. im literally normal and it is not doing ANYONE harm. what is wrong with you. GOD

[venusbby]

post it, or don't ♡

characters/pairings: itoshi rin x reader

warnings: one cuss word lol, not proofread sorry if there's any typos!!! have a good day people.

✿ summary: your tired boyfriend is not a big fan of your spam account being filled with his overly cute photos.

"stop that—"

"stop what?"

"you're taking pictures of me."

"im not, rinnie."

you definitely were.

how could you not take pictures of him when he's sprawled out on top of you like a house cat?

although he was trying his best not to put all of his weight on you, it was impossible to control himself. especially when his body was quite sore from his new workout routine.

rin was unusually clingy today, his exhaustion was responsible for that. initially, all he needed was to lie down on the bed and let his muscles rest against the mattress— but then he realised you were already there, scrolling through your social media.

he just couldn't say no when you opened your arms and called out to him with that soft voice of yours, and he had already started to dream of the satisfying feeling of your hands running through his hair by that time.

and that's how he ended up with his face nestled in your neck and his legs tangled with yours, much to your enjoyment and his instant regret when you clicked on the camera icon and watched the mess of the dark green hair that tickled your cheek.

he didn't realise anything at first because his eyes were closed and he was actually considering falling asleep right then and there. however, the clicking sound of your phone was enough to make him groan and hide his face further.

but your laugh was so soft yet contagious, right next to his ear, and he was holding onto that one string of hope that you wouldn't record a video of his immediate complaints.

"babyyy, say hi!" you said while doing the exact thing he didn't want you to do— recording a video. it was so fun to get on his nerves sometimes.

all he could do was give the side of your bare hips a light squeeze as he tried his best to speak quietly so the video wouldn't pick up what he was saying. "you make me fucking miserable."

your cheeks hurt from how hard you smiled. "alright, okay. i've got my pictures, im satisfied. i'll leave you alone now."

rin slowly peeked up when you placed your phone on the bedside table and shot a glare as you looked down at him. "you're not posting that. i'm tired of seeing my face on my own feed."

"yeah! totally not posting that."

"y/n." it's become a daily thing for him to use your name in that warning tone. "not even the paparazzi post as many pictures of me as you do."

you rolled your eyes. "it's because i'm your biggest fan. just one?"

"no."

"rinnie, pretty please. you just look so cute. gosh, you look even cuter right now." you tried to soften his edges a bit, feeling your chest implode with love because God, your boyfriend was so effortlessly cute. especially when his tired eyes were covered with his dark strands.

all you got in return was a grunt and rin was back to burying his face in the crook of your neck. he really didn't have the energy to deal with your weird ways of convincing. he just needed sleep, and you— he had both of his favourite things now.

you knew he granted you permission once he stopped, or more like gave up, and thanked him softly.

rin hummed as your hands ran over his neck and shoulders and lightly pressed his stiff muscles. a massage to top it all off, your boyfriend was quite literally seeing stars.

"squeeze harder," he mumbled, exhaling slowly when you did as he told you to.

"so, you've been working out."

he didn't respond, waiting for you to say something more related to that as you pondered while pressing your thumb into his skin to ease out the tension.

"don't i deserve a photo or two?" you proposed, a shameless grin on your face when you heard your lover make another noise in annoyance.

"maybe if you don't post that video," rin said, planting a quick kiss against your warm neck as he continued, knowing he had found a good solution. "i'll send you some."

and a few days later, you realised that it was a pretty good deal.

fjskfjskfndmcndkv. this is all i have to show. bye fellow rin enjoyers.

#itoshi rin #rin itoshi #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin x you #itoshi rin x y/n #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi x you #rin itoshi x y/n #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock fluff #blue lock headcanons #blue lock manga #bllk #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #bllk rin #itoshi brothers #itoshi rin fluff #itoshi rin imagines #itoshi rin headcanons #rin itoshi fluff #rin x reader

[charliemwrites]

Oooooh I finally did it!! Mafia au part 6! A little bit of that sweet angst/comfort.

Let it be said: Johnny’s no snitch.

Outgoing (“loud” Simon would grumble) as he is, he doesn’t run his mouth about anything important. Doesn’t talk business over a pint or boast his connections in bar disagreements. Doesn’t drop names, flash heat, throw around the weight of his employer. Has never spilled a single fucking secret, not for knives, acid, a fucking gun to his head.

Oh, and please don’t tell the boss.

Let it also be said: Johnny is loyal.

He would happily lay down his life for any of his comrades, lives and dies for SpecGru – for Price. And even though you’re new, you’re one of them now. You’ve quickly found and secured your place in Price’s inner circle, different as you may be. Johnny would go to war for you, and your silly pink sticky notes.

Still, keeping something – anything from the boss. Even a private matter like this…

It happened on SpecGru property, that makes it SpecGru business. And it happened to you, which makes it Price’s business.

That you don’t already know that is… well, that’s between you and the boss. Johnny’s already too involved as it is. (Not that he regrets helping you. Not a bit. If he had his way, that little prick would have left with his teeth in his pocket and a new appreciation for his remaining thumb).

So now Johnny is stuck. He likes you; he really does. That you trust him with something so personal isn’t lost on him, especially in this line of work. He also has a healthy fear of your wrath. (You may not carry any weapons he’s seen, but you’ve got Price grimacing when you narrow your eyes just so. Johnny knows where his cupcakes are made, and he likes them without arsenic, thank you). So, personally, he wants to be able to honor your request to keep the matter private.

But then there’s Price, and whatever he’ll do to Johnny if – when – he finds out about all this.

Johnny’s solution?

“Christ, Gaz, ya shoulda seen it. Never seen the little miss tell someone off like that. Graves woulda been shakin’ in his boots. Will have to ask security for a recording of it.”

Gaz, unimpressed with Johnny’s volume, rolls his eyes and walks away, muttering about tea for his sudden headache. And Price, sitting at his desk, twitches and reaches for his phone.

Mission: accomplished.

Not the most elegant, but he’s a mafia lieutenant, not a fuckin’ spy. Now, to get those pastries you like before Price sees the footage.

“Luv?”

You glance up from the expense reports you’ve been working through for the better part of an hour. Mr. Price is leaning in the doorway to his office, shoulder to the jamb. There’s… an odd look on his face. You’ve never seen it before, don’t have it categorized in your mental files.

“Yes, boss?” you ask, straightening up.

“A word?”

You blink. That’s… different. You don’t like it.

Price is a steady sort of man. Not predictable, but consistent. That this is new, unusual, unfamiliar, makes you uneasy. Reminds you of your last boss, who could call you into his office with an affable grin, only to spend thirty minutes berating you for anything and everything he could think of.

Price has never done that, nothing even close… but you can’t suppress the slight shake in your hands as you smooth your skirt down. Hide it with a little flick of your wrists before grabbing for your ever-trusty tablet. Hell, you probably don’t even need it, but at this point it’s practically a comfort item. Maybe you should name it, put some googly eyes on it.

“Sweetheart?”

You startle a bit. Realize your feet have already carried you into his office and followed him right to his desk. Except instead of standing at his elbow as usual, you’re facing him across his desk. Like you did during your interview with him, when you were still strangers. Like you used to do for your previous boss.

“Oh, sorry, sir,” you chirp, forcing your usual brightness, “those expense reports, ya know? What did you need me for?”

Without a word, he spins his computer monitor around. Your brow furrows as you process the video playing on the screen. You. Soap. Brandon. Your stomach sinks.

There’s no sound, but there doesn’t really need to be. Even in profile, the expressions are crisp – high end cameras. You feel numb as the scene plays out all over again. You and Brandon snipping at each other back and forth. Your rigid spine, stiff shoulders. Brandon’s sleezy confidence. Soap, getting visibly aggravated as the seconds pass.

And there it is, the moment you spun on your heel, done with the conversation, and Brandon reached for you.

When you see Soap’s hand snap out – just a blur on the screen – you have to sit. Muscle memory collects your tablet in your lap, sweaty hands stacking neatly on top of it. Your heart is beating either too fast or too slow.

Your eyes stay locked on the screen until you and Soap disappear into the elevator, and the video stops.

“Should I play the elevator footage as well?” Price asks, voice low and quiet. “That comes with sound.”

It takes all your years of learned discipline and cultivated poise to resist shrinking in on yourself. It does not, however, stop your eyes from burning.

“Sir,” you say, struggling to keep your voice even, “I am so sorry.”

There’s a beat of tense silence as you gather yourself, throat getting tighter and tighter. Your head is spinning with fear and anxiety. What he’ll say, what he’ll do. How you could possibly damage control this.

“I-I don’t even know how he found out where I work,” you say, “and Soap w-was just trying to help. If I’d known that would happen, I would have taken it outside.”

You can barely look at Price as your voice break midway through, the panic leaking into your tone even as you stay frozen in place.

“Did we – is he suing? Is – is that why—?”

The tears escape despite your efforts, dripping fast and down your cheeks as you shudder in a breath. You can’t pay for a lawsuit, especially not if you’re fired over this. And you don’t want to lose this job. You love this job, you love—

“Oh, darling, what a mess you’ve made of yourself.”

You sniffle as Price rounds his desk and kneels in front of you, plucking his handkerchief from his breast pocket. He tuts at you when you open your mouth to protest, already blotting at your cheeks with a surprisingly gentle touch.

“There now, no need to cry,” he soothes, thumbing away another tear before it can fall. “I know it takes you ages to get your eyeliner right. This is nothing to ruin it over.”

“But…”

“I’m not angry, luv,” he continues, voice still low and quiet. This time, it doesn’t make your shoulders tense. “Wasn’t before and definitely not now. Chin up, there’s a dear.”

“Y-you’re not?” you warble.

“Not a bit,” he answers. “Not at you, at least.”

“Then why…?” You gesture weakly at the computer screen.

He sighs, something almost fond passing over his face. “Darling, you could have been hurt. Imagine if Soap hadn’t been there. All of us on the top floor, waiting for you to get back, not knowing something was wrong.”

He shakes his head, cradling your cheek with the same hand that brushed away your tears.

“You’re one of mine, you understand? Anything that happens to you is my responsibility,” he explains. “And I didn’t… enjoy that you want to keep something like this from me.”

You drop your eyes in shame. Of course. An employee assaulted on company ground, his personal assistant no less. Price would never stand for that sort of thing. He looks out for his own, looks out for you.

“Hey, look at me, luv. None of that now,” he coaxes. “I just want to get to the bottom of why you didn’t want to tell me.”

It occurs to you that that tone you heard earlier might have just been genuine worry and maybe… a bit of hurt. You twist your hands in your lap as you gather your words.

“I didn’t… it wasn’t because of you,” you murmur. “I just… was so embarrassed. And I didn’t want to make it your problem. I’m supposed to make your life easier, not harder.”

He huffs, but you’re relieved to see wry amusement on his face now.

“No more of that,” he orders, as softly as he when he wiped your face. “Am I understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“There’s a love.” He gently pinches your cheek, then stands. “Stay here, I’ll get you a cup of water. Take a moment, yeah?”

You nod, sniffling again. He squeezes your shoulder as he passes, and you finally let yourself breathe. Not getting fired, not getting sued. And Price isn’t mad at you. Christ, he needs to work on his approach.

“Kyle.”

“Yeah, boss?”

“Look into that knob from lobby. And the little miss’s last boss.”

“You’ve got it.”

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #mafia!au #oddly wholesome for a mafia au #mafia boss price #assistant!reader #assistant reader #john soap mactavish

[demonpiratehuntress]

period pain

OPLA!Zoro x F!Reader

A/N: This is the Zoro period one-shot I mentioned in my previous post.

"Luffy, if you take a single thing off my plate I will stuff you in a fucking blender."

An inhuman growl left your lips as you shot a withering glare at your captain, pulling your plate closer to you. The younger boy looked taken aback by your threat, his hand retracting slowly in slight fear. Usopp and Sanji stared at you with their jaws dropped, Zoro raised an eyebrow, and Nami looked unfazed.

"What are you guys looking at?" You snapped, turning your glare on the rest of them.

They all looked away, mumbling apologies, except Zoro. You rolled your eyes, grumbling something about him being so stubborn and tough. He would have said something about it, but his feelings for you stopped him. He's seen you angry, but this was something else. And he'd rather not risk saying something regrettable to you while you were clearly bothered by something.

"(Name), can you please..." Usopp gulped, "Pass me the salt."

You practically threw the salt shaker in the poor guy's hands, your deathly glare not leaving your face. You ate your food aggressively, attacking it like it was the reason for your anger. The rest of the crew sat in silence, even Luffy not wanting to aggravate you more - and that was saying a lot. Nami was trying her hardest not to laugh, which confused the boys, who didn't understand why such a situation would be funny. But she knew what it was.

"You guys are idiots," she snorted when you'd left the table.

"And why's that?" Zoro asked, folding his arms over his chest. "Do you know what's wrong?"

"It's so obvious," she confirmed, then backtracked, "Oh, wait. You guys really don't know?"

Their blank, clueless expressions made Nami sigh.

A little while later, you hobbled into the kitchen for dinner. But this time you weren't mad, you were groaning and clutching your stomach tightly, earning concerned glances all around. But because of earlier, everyone was too afraid to say a word. Except Zoro.

"Go back to your room."

"W-what?" Your eyes widened, then glossed over with tears.

He instantly cursed himself and his monotonous voice. He hadn't meant it to sound harsh or anything, but from the way you looked at him he knew you had taken it the wrong way. And when the tears actually fell, guilt ripped through him and he felt an unusual pain in his chest.

"Zoro-" Nami started.

"No, it's okay," you said quietly, turning around, only to feel that familiar feeling of something wet down south.

"You're bleeding!"

Embarrassment washed through you and you instantly turned back around, trying to cover it, but the blood soaked the front of your shorts as well. You instantly regretted wearing such light-coloured shorts, but you hadn't expected your period for another two days. But now, seeing them all staring, you felt humiliated and ashamed, and the tears fell faster.

"Someone get her a damn blanket," Nami practically growled at the gobsmacked men, before coming over and helping you to the counter.

You refused to look at the green-haired swordsman, but you soon realised he was no longer in the room. You internally groaned, then began crying even more because you felt as if you had disgusted him. Nami tried to comfort you, but you barely heard her as you felt the sadness of impending rejection mixing with your already unstable emotions. 

What happened next was beyond anything you could have imagined.

You felt a blanket being draped across your shoulders, seconds before you were lifted into a pair of familiar, strong arms. You quickly covered your tear-stained face with the blanket, not wanting to meet his eyes as he carried you to your room.

"Don't do that."

"What?" You choked out, your voice still weak and soft.

"Don't hide," Zoro clarified. "I want to see your face."

"Why?" You slowly removed the blanket from your face.

"You're pretty."

Your heart hammered in your chest when you heard that, sadness immediately dissipating. You couldn't believe what you had just heard, but it made your heart swell knowing he really thought that. You felt your cheeks heat up, and the familiar feeling of butterflies that you always got around him.

"I'm crying. And bleeding."

"Nami told us what's wrong," he looked down at you, and his eyes gleamed with concern, "It's natural."

Before you could say anything else, he set you down. In a hammock. With a start, you realised he'd brought you to his room instead. You opened your mouth to say something, but he was already walking away to his closet. Your words died in your throat when he pulled out his own clothes and offered them to you.

"Change. I'll wait outside."

He started towards the door, but you stopped him, sniffing, "Thank you."

He felt his own heart swell when he saw how happy his actions had made you, and it sparked some hope in him that maybe you felt the same way. Not knowing what to say, and also wanting to hide his oncoming blush, he just nodded and quickly exited to let you change. You looked down at his clothes, your own blush dusting your cheeks. As you changed into them, you realised you'd need underwear.

"Z-Zoro?" You called, blushing harder.

He was in the room in less than a second, his eyes widening when he saw you pants-less but with the blanket covering your lower half. He coughed, trying hard not to blush, "Yeah?"

"I need...underwear," you said quietly, feeling more embarrassment come on.

"Oh."

You started to get up, thinking you'd rather get it yourself since he was clearly uncomfortable, but he stopped you, "Stay. I'll ask Nami to bring it for you." Then he reached down to grab your bloodstained clothes, and your eyes widened.

"No! You don't have to-"

"(Name)," he sighed, looking up at you, "Shut up and let me take care of you."

You would have probably burst into tears again if anyone else had told you to shut up, but the words that followed it were enough to comfort you and make you relax back into the hammock. You bit your lip, flustered and embarrassed but feeling much better already knowing he was going to - and he wanted to - take care of you.

A while later, you were dressed in his clothes and relaxing in his hammock, your heart thundering as you looked around his room. He hadn't decorated, being the simple man he was, but just the fact that it was his brought you more comfort. You felt calmer here, like the room itself was reducing your stress and pain. Your cramps had subsided, but that was because of the hot soup that Zoro had brought you which he had aggressively demanded Sanji make. The man in question had disappeared somewhere, but came in just as you were starting to wonder where.

"How you feeling?"

"Better," you admitted. "Thanks to you."

He sat down next to you on a chair he'd brought in, "Stop thanking me."

"But-" You were cut off by another wave of cramps, groaning loudly and curling up into a ball.

He shot up again, "What? What's wrong?"

"More...cramps..." You managed to get out, whining and whimpering in pain.

"Should I get more soup?"

"N-No, just..." You blushed at the idea you had, wondering if he would really do it. "Could you...maybe lie down with me?"

Instantly his cheeks warmed up. Unlike many people would think, Zoro was easily flustered by requests like that coming from you. He'd long dreamed of laying with you in his hammock, you on his chest with his arms around you, but he hadn't ever expected it to really happen. His heart was beating faster than it usually did, as always when he was around you, but he happily obliged despite his nervousness in doing so. You shifted to give him space, letting him slip onto the hammock beside you.

"You might not be comfortable with it, and it's totally okay if you, arent, but-" You groaned in pain, then continued, "Can you please put your hand here?" You placed a hand over the spot, and he almost choked on air when he realised how far down it was. You saw his expression, and your eyes widened, "I-I'm sorry, you don't-"

His warm hand settled over that spot before you finished, "I want to help."

You blushed, "Well...your hand might help better inside."

His eyes widened, but he slowly slipped his hand in and settled it over that same spot, and was about to ask if that was right when he looked at your face and saw you visibly relax. That gave him his answer. When he started rubbing slowly, the pained look on your face completely disappeared.

"That feels really good."

He smiled, then guided your head to his chest as he slowly relaxed as well. You closed your eyes, mumbling something about how you never knew such peace existed during your period. Another unusual bout of pride swelled in his chest, knowing he could help without words, because those were not his strong suit.

"Can I kiss you?"

He was surprised to hear you ask, and looked down to see your eyes on his lips. He leaned in without saying anything and captured your lips with his own, kissing you slowly and softly. The kiss was much gentler than you expected it to be, but you weren't complaining because his lips were soft and warm, and you leaned into him even more, deepening the kiss. The butterflies in your stomach fluttered around wildly, but this time you didn't try to calm them because you loved the way he made you feel. He pulled away too soon, but pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

"You should sleep. You look tired."

"I am tired," you complained, "But I don't want to sleep. What if I wake up and you're gone? And I'm in my own bed, and this was all a dream?"

He chuckled, finding it adorable how sleepy you sounded, "I promise I'll be here when you wake up. You and I are both staying right here."

"Okay."

That 'okay' was so innocent and childlike, making you much cuter to him. You yawned once, before closing your eyes again and getting comfortable on his broad chest. He held you close, and you fell asleep knowing you had the best caretaker watching over you.

#zoro x reader #one piece live action #opla #opla zoro #roronoa zoro #opla zoro x reader

[remlionheart]

“You came.”

“You called.”

✧˚ · .MDNI 18+✧˚ · .

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ WHEWWWW. I had no idea when I first started writing this just how much it was going to suck me in. Sweet/toxic!Megumi had my brain doing fuckin' wheelies. All characters are aged up. 21+. Fem!reader x Megumi. AU where Megumi was raised by Toji and is navigating adulthood while still carrying around those old parental wounds. Hurt comfort / angst / smut. porn with a plot. praise kink girlies, this is for you. 3.6k words. super proud of this, lemme know whatcha think. luv you <3 ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

It’d been 4 months since the last time Megumi had seen you.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

He’d woken up in what used to be your apartment with the taste of liquor from the night before still lingering on his tongue and unwanted snippets of your latest fight still ringing in his ears. He rolled over to see you curled up on your side, as far away from him as you could possibly get while still sharing the same bed. He ran a hand over his face, regret and nausea churning in his stomach while more flashbacks of the argument that had caused the divide between you smashed through his mind.

His footsteps were heavy as he made his way into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He turned the water up as hot as it would go before stripping out of his boxers. He wanted to sweat out the guilt he felt. Wanted to burn away the insults you’d both thrown at each other. Wanted to focus on anything else besides the way he’d made you cry.

He winced when the water made contact with his skin. It was scalding, fanning across his back with vengeance. But it was vengeance that he felt he deserved.

“Why?” His eyes closed, remembering how hard you were trying to keep yourself together despite the obvious pain that was plaguing your small body. The way your lip had quivered and the way your arms had protectively wrapped around your stomach when you looked up at him. “Why can’t you ever just tell me what’s going on with you?”

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to.

God, he wanted to. To open up. To tell you all of the fucked-up things that went on in his head. To voice his insecurities so that maybe they’d finally stop repeating on the same never-ending loop that they had been stuck on his whole life. To tell you that he didn’t think he was enough. To tell you that he was scared to lose you. That it was something he thought about nearly every day.

But it wasn’t that easy. He was only capable of doing what he knew, and he had absolutely no fucking idea how to deal with his own vulnerability. Let alone express it in a way that wasn't damaging to both of you.

Being raised by Toji had been like taking a master class in emotional avoidance and Megumi was very much his father’s prodigy.

He knew how to argue. He knew how to deflect. He knew how to win a fight. He knew how to manipulate a conversation so that he never had to say more than he wanted to. And he didn’t just know how to do these things, he excelled at them.

It was why he had always been so reserved. It was why he’d beat up all those kids in middle school just for looking at him. It was why at 21, rather than saying “I’m sorry” to resolve an ongoing issue with his girlfriend, he’d opted for, “Then fucking leave" instead.

He stepped out of the shower with red welts decorating his back and sweat dripping down his face. He wiped the steam away from the mirror to reveal blood-shot eyes as he wrapped a towel around his waist. His midnight hair was unusually straight and flat, pressed loosely against his forehead.

He let out an exhale, trading in his introspection for detachment when he heard the bathroom door open.

You observed him quietly, noting his reddened skin and his apparent discomfort at seeing you.

Your head tilted slightly, looking over his clenched jaw and the way his shoulders never truly relaxed. It hurt to see him and it hurt even worse to not see him, but as he stared back at you through hooded eyes, you realized that you had wasted so much time searching for softness in a place you’d never find it.

Megumi Fushiguro was beautifully broken. An intricate stained-glass mural that had been shattered by undeserving hands. Mesmerizing to look at but much too rigid to touch. And though he shined perfectly in the right lighting, your mangled fingertips were begging you to finally put the pieces down.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It’s nothing...” You shook your head, taking in his sharp edges for what you assumed would be the last time. “You just look like him… that’s all.”

His chest tightened, a rare, visible crack forming in his usual cold demeanor as he stared back at you. He’d been able to avoid everything he didn’t want to deal with in life, everything – until he met you.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A pint of whiskey loomed back at him from his nightstand as he ran a hand through his spiked hair, lethargically watching the ceiling fan spin above him.

His vision was hazy, his body tired from training all day. He wanted to sleep. Wanted to close his eyes and drift off for a few hours, but he knew his mind wasn’t going to grant him that mercy.

So, he drank.

Light rain tapped against his window as he held the bottle to his lips, letting a comforting burn travel down his throat while he pulled his phone out from under his pillow.

You had become a ghost in his life after that morning. A memory that he kept buried so far down, he’d almost partially convinced himself that you were actually gone. You were a late-night whisper that he’d ignore. A song on the radio that he’d immediately turn off. A stabbing, fleeting thought he’d learned to block out on his way home from work.

He had given up going to his favorite restaurants and shops in fear that you might be there. He had cut all ties with Nobara since you guys were so close, not wanting to hear anything about you. He had isolated himself to work and his apartment, not allowing himself the chance to accidentally bump into you.

He’d taken so many precautions. Did everything he possibly could to not see you. And yet, he was gradually starting to realize that maybe it’d all been in vain. That even with how much his life had changed, he was still somehow doing the exact same thing he’d done when he was with you.

After all this time, he was still running.

With one last swig, he finished off his pint and grabbed his phone again, not allotting himself enough time to backpedal.

Dialing your number was like muscle memory even with how long it'd been since he'd done it. He wasn't sure what he was going to say if you answered. He definitely wasn't sure what he was going to say tomorrow if you didn't answer. All he knew was that he was finally done avoiding you.

“Megumi…?” your voice was warm, familiar, static against his ear.

“You’re up late.”

There was a pause followed by a reluctant, “Yeah… so are you.”

He mentally kicked himself as an unsure silence settled between the two of you. He had so many things he needed to say but quickly realized that he couldn’t say any of them now that he was here.

His feelings were heavy and important and way too repressed to be spilled out over a late-night phone call. “I know it’s raining, and whatever but…” He cleared his throat. “Are you busy…?”

“Right now?” He couldn’t help but smirk at your snarky, half-hearted laugh. “I mean, it’s 1:30 in the morning. So, no. Not really.”

“Good. Come over.”

“Wait a minute, you can’t just –”

But he already had.

He ended the call, abruptly cutting off your flimsy attempt at protesting him before sending you a text with his address and standing up to dig a black t-shirt out of his closet.

His apartment was damn near spotless aside from some empty whiskey bottles littering his nightstand, but he still made compulsive laps back and forth from his bedroom to his kitchen as he threw them away and cracked a couple of windows open to let some fresh air in. It was an odd feeling, knowing that you were going to be standing in the one place that didn’t remind him of you.

He checked his phone while heading into the bathroom. You hadn't said anything, but he knew you well enough to know that you were probably only minutes away by now.

He ran contemplative fingers through his hair, making sure each spike was pointed and curled up to his satisfaction. He hated to admit it, but your words had been haunting his reflection since the morning they left your mouth. He had become painfully aware of how much his eyes, his mannerisms, his facial structure all resembled the man he didn't want to become.

His past may have already been accounted for but as he heard the knock at his front door, he finally began to see something different in the mirror that once taunted him. He watched his stare soften and his shoulders loosen. He noted how much tension his body had let go of at just the thought of you. He was about to let his guard down in the biggest way possible and instead of having a visceral reaction, he felt ready.

With one last glance at himself, he let out a decisive breath and headed down the hall. The future was in his hands and even if he did have his father's features, he knew his grasp was much steadier.

You were in an oversized grey hoodie with your hair thrown into a loose side-bun, your shorts just barely visible and your skin damp from the rain.

Neither one of you said anything, both too busy studying the person in front of you to bother with words. Your eyes trailed over him with warranted skepticism, an internal battle between logic and emotion arising the longer you looked at him.

He could see it; he could feel it - the way you wanted to trust him but couldn't.

"You came." he finally said, his voice gentler than you remembered it being.

You shrugged, almost embarrassed by your own honesty.

"You called."

The two of you exchanged the same somber smile before he nodded for you to follow him.

The smell of his cologne mixed with spring air swirled around you as you walked into his room. His walls were covered in art - framed line work, oil paintings, black and grey portraits. Everything was strategically placed and organized. His bed made neatly with white sheets and a black duvet. It was all very him.

He leaned against the wall in front of you as you took a seat on the edge of his mattress.

“How’ve you been?”

It should've been an easy question and under different circumstances, it probably would've been.

But it was late and you were on his bed and he looked beautiful and you wished he didn't and the weight of the situation was suddenly hitting you all at once.

“I've been alright.” You lied, repositioning yourself. "Just busy with classes and stuff. What about you...?"

He watched the way your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your shorts. The way you shifted your weight as you dangled one leg off of the bed and held the other against your chest.

“Quit.”

You paused, your gaze reluctantly returning to his. “Quit what?”

“Being nervous.” He pushed himself away from the wall and sat down next to you, heeding his own advice. “I just have some stuff I need to say, that's all."

You gave him a slow nod, letting go of the loose piece of thread.

His legs were spread slightly, his elbows resting on his thighs and his chin in his hands as he looked over at you. "You were right."

He had officially gained your attention with that one simple admission.

"I do need to open up more, it's just -" He took a breath, determination flickering through his eyes. "It's just fucking hard, you know? But that's not an excuse. I'm sorry. Truly. I'm sorry for everything I did to you while we were together. I should've said it the last time I saw you. I should've said it months before that. I should've just said it at least a hundred times. But I didn't, so I'm saying it now." His hand was warm as he carefully reached for yours. "I shouldn't have shut you out like I did. You're... the one person I never wanted to push away... I love you."

It felt as though all of the oxygen had been stripped from the room, your heart forgetting how to beat while you looked back at him in awe. Your thoughts were everywhere. The war of logic versus emotion still violently raging on.

His fingers laced into yours and you let them. His grasp felt safe and secure. His eyes were full of a sense of patience and vulnerability that you didn't think you'd ever seen before.

"Don't let him do this to you again." Nobara had warned you on your drive over here. "He might care about you. Hell, he might even really love you, but he doesn't know how and you can't keep making that your problem over and over again. It's not fair."

"Look..." Your breathing was uneven, your voice giving away your internal struggle no matter how hard you tried to conceal it. "I forgive you, but we... can't. I mean, we can't just keep doing this over and over. It's... not fair." It had held so much more conviction when it came from your best friend, but it was the best you could manage.

His hand disappeared from yours, wandering up to your cheek to catch tears that you didn't even realize had fallen. "Okay..." he conceded.

His tone was despondent, but his touch was soft. Light fingertips glided along your jawline, his face only centimeters apart from yours. "Then we won't."

"We won't." You repeated back to him, trying desperately to ignore the way his exhale fanned felicitously across your lips.

"Because..." You swallowed hard, watching his gaze drift carefully across your face. "We shouldn't."

He shook his head in agreement. "Absolutely shouldn't." He whispered, his hand trailing up to the back of your neck.

"And..." Emotion was putting up the fight of its life, your pupils widening as you stared back at him. "I deserve better."

"So much better." he echoed, leaning in closer, his mouth just barely grazing yours. "You deserve the fucking world."

Your body was betraying every bit of your sentiment, your breath hitching in your throat while his fingers tangled into your hair. "Megumi... you can't..."

"I'm not." his voice was like honey, his lips still ghosting yours. "All you have to do is pull away." His other hand began to slide delicately up your thigh, making it nearly impossible to focus on anything else. "Pull away and I'll walk you back to your car. We'll act like none of this ever happened."

"Megumi, please." It was a whimper. A pathetic plea that held no real merit. You weren't sure if you were begging for him to touch you or not touch you.

"I won't call you again. Won't see you again." His nails began to dig into the tenderness your inner thigh, his eyes still locked fiercely with yours. "I'll leave you alone for good this time... That's what you want, right?"

Wetness seeped between your legs as he kept on toying with the opening of your shorts. The warmth of his hand so infuriatingly close to where you wanted it and where it shouldn't be. Your already weak resolve was crumbling.

"Tell me to stop."

His forehead pressed against yours, opposite hand still holding your neck in place. "Tell me." He tried again, but all of your words had been stolen by the feeling of his palm roaming up towards your center.

With only a thin layer of fabric separating his fingers from you, he slowly began to spread you apart. If he hadn't been able to see your desperation before, he could certainly feel it now.

He watched every last bit of composure you had vanish as he started to draw soft, heavenly circles around your clit. Drowning in the little yelps and whines that you were trying so hard to bite back.

"Tell me to fucking stop."

There was suddenly no logic left in your brain. No one in control. No way to fight the way he was making you feel. You were a needy, pining mess and your body was practically groveling for him.

You finally let your lips catch his, shamelessly moaning against him while his grip tightened in your hair. "Don't -" You let out between heady breaths. "Don't stop. Please don't ever stop."

You were lost somewhere between his feral ocean eyes and the way his tongue swirled around yours.

He pulled the fabric to the side, plunging two unexpected fingers inside of you, smirking at the surprised squeal it'd gained him.

"Oh, that's my girl." He groaned, watching your eyes double in size.

Your walls were swallowing him, clenching around him shamelessly while more uncontrollable noises filled the room.

His thumb brushed against your clit, rubbing back and forth with precision as his fingers continued to slam into you. The three of them working together in perfect synchronicity. "There you go, that’s it.”

It had been so long. You knew it wouldn't take much, but you still felt pathetic when you realized you were already there. "Megumi- 'm -"

It almost caught both of you off guard how little it took. Your eyes snapped shut, your bottom lip lodged between your teeth as you soaked him. Your hips were thrusting, your pussy unapologetically dripping all over his hand while you mewled and writhed against him.

"Poor thing. Has it really been that long?"

It was somehow sweet, the way he mocked you.

His movements became more urgent, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you to your feet so that he could help you out of your clothes. Your hoodie went first, your nipples hardening as you stood in front of him.

"So fucking pretty." He praised, still sitting on the edge of the bed. His hands were warm against your waist, tugging off your shorts and underwear in one swift motion, admiring the shiny slick glistening off of your cunt.

He took a moment to look you over, quietly memorizing every inch before his own pants were tossed aside.

Your legs straddled him as he guided you on top of him, his hands placed firmly on your hips. You drew in a shallow breath, watching him rub his tip against you, wetting himself with your cum before lining his cock up with your entrance.

You slowly lowered yourself onto him, basking in that familiar, heavenly stretch he always provided you with.

“Fuuuck.”

You weren’t sure which one of you had said it, too drunk off of the way he filled you to care.

His hands were still guiding you. Uppp and dowwwnnn, not quite letting you take the full thing just yet but still giving you plenty to keep you satisfied.

You watched his reaction to the way you rode him, smiled when you noticed his eyes starting to roll back. You were grinding against him, drawing out the prettiest sounds from him with your hands clasped behind his neck.

“You’re s’fucking…” he grunted, his words suddenly harder to get out. “tight… Jesus Christ, baby. You really didn’t fuck anyone else for 4 months, did you?”

It wasn’t like you had been trying to hide it, but it was still irritating that your body sold you out before you even had the chance to have that conversation with him.

You shook your head sheepishly, a faint warmth decorating your cheeks. “Didn’t -” he was pulling you down further this time, purposefully going deeper as he watched you struggle to form a proper setence. “Didn’t - want… t- to…”

“Didn’t want anyone else inside of you, huh?” His tone was breathy, condescending almost as he continued to maneuver you to his liking. “Didn’t want anyone else to fill up this tight fucking cunt besides me, is that it baby?”

You shook your head again, this time a bit more feverishly while he continued to force your weight down onto him. Your ass now smacking against his thighs with each pump into you.

“I -” you moaned, unable to hold it together the further down you went. “I just want you. O - only you.”

He kissed you, his tongue gently parting your lips as he slowly eased you down onto his length. “I love you.” He whispered.

You tried to say it back but it was lost entirely by the way he thrusted upward without warning and slammed every last blissful inch of himself into you.

Your eyebrows knitted together, your mouth dropping open at the feeling of his tip hitting your cervix. You were a dizzy, pouty, leaky mess, looking at him with stars in your eyes as he smirked back at you. "You’re okay, baby. You can take it.”

He had you tilted at just the right angle, lined up beautifully with your g-spot. You were taking in all you could, hips hungrily rocking back and forth against him.

"You're doing so good. Just like that."

You were practically delirious, already teetering on the verge of climax when his thumb found your clit again, creating more featherlight circles and more delicious, hopeless yelps from you.

"Megumi," his name practically echoed across the room, your walls starting to smother him. "I - fuck, baby ‘m -" You tried to bury your face into his shoulder, but he wouldn't let you. His free hand was quickly under your chin, forcing your attention back on him.

"Look at me." his voice was low but thoughtful, his fingers still working relentlessly against you. "Let me fucking see it."

It was enough to break you. To have you suddenly spasming around him as you soaked him. He didn’t stop though no matter how much you squirmed against him. No matter how incredibly loud your cries became. He continued to stretch you, bullying himself into you while still teasing your clit until you were both absolutely shaking.

His lips crashed into yours, hand tangled back into your hair when you felt him start to twitch inside you, filling you up as he groaned against your mouth.

“I love you.” You whispered this time, earning an exhausted smile from him.

He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, admiring the mess he’d made out of you before kissing you again, lavishly this time as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

It was all so natural, so right. As if no time had passed at all between you two. And maybe you were biased because of where you were currently sitting, but his once rough edges looked pretty smooth from this angle.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

#jujutsu kaisen #megumi fushiguro #jjk x reader #jjk smut #fushiguro megumi #jjk megumi #megumi smut #megumi x angst #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi smut #jjk x you #toxic!megmi #jjk fanfic

[pupcuck]

WASTE ME !

ft. leon s. kennedy x gn!reader

tags. rape, non-con to dubious consent, reader has low self esteem so they think the rape is deserved, dead dove, vendetta leon, implied age gap, virginity loss, kind of stockholm cuz they end up liking leon, guilt, p in v

a/n. please don’t read if this is triggering it’s quite literally just non-con and reader saying they like it bc they’re lonely !!

two / three

You haven’t been out of the house in a while. Not quite unusual, but you’re sure it’s been an extended amount of time since you did anything more than stepping outside to collect a delivery. It’s late and there’s nothing sweet to eat. Excluding the bloomed chocolate stored all the way in the back of your fridge on the shelf that’s icky in ways you choose to ignore. You don’t want to clean that shit up. Gotta seek out a hazmat suit first.

Delivery is always an option, but you’ve wasted so much money on those fucking service fees, it’s a total joke. So you put on your brave face and head out. The October wind chills you to the bone, makes you ache like your entire body needs to be thawed the second it hits you. Put in the microwave a few times. Left to defrost. You regret not putting on those cutesy mittens, got nervous the old corner store owner would find you childish and left them behind in the heat of the moment. Now you’ve got fucking frostbite, you silly bitch.

With your heart in your throat, ready to slip out at a moment’s notice if you do as little as open your mouth, you step inside the dimly lit store. The bell jingles, you’re welcomed by a damp smell that makes you retch silently, the buzz of the refrigerators slowly drives you mad as you make your way through the aisles. Anything will do at this point. You grab the first pack of sugar-coated gummies, and pop it down on the counter. You’ve only got a note, hoping he’d break it, but the cashier unhelpfully drops an extensive amount of change into your small palm, leaving you fumbling.

Keeping the plastic packet between your teeth, you try your best to shove the change into the pocket of your puffy jacket. Of course, everyone is against you at all times, so a coin falls to the ground with a metallic clink. And you’re gonna chase after it when it rolls away. Duh. You don’t have a single penny to waste. Not with all those utility bills. Not with all your bad online shopping habits.

You’re crouched down on the ground, tucked into a nook the streetlights don’t see, feeling around with both your hands. Like how Velma looks for her stupid fuckin’ dork glasses. You feel him before you see him. Smell the sourness of whatever he’s been drinking. Like a fucking keg party, Jesus. His hands are warm on your hips, grabbing them like nobody’s business. You’re scared for sure. Scared shitless in fact. You almost pissed your pants when he crept up behind you like that, like he’s some beast from a creature feature.

Although, you suppose, no one’s ever held you this way. Held you like they want you. Lucky he can’t see your face. You’re certain he’d be the one kicking up a fuss, stumbling out of the alley like you’re the one that tried to rape him. Understandable. You’re a sexually repulsive rat. No one's ever wanted to bang you. Like ever. Once again, totally understandable. You’re not exactly what anyone would call pretty, average even. Dog-face is closer to what you are, face like a pound of slapped ass. Shouldn’t be allowed in public. A guy once told you he’d only hit if you put a bag over your head first. You were willing too, but he was messing with you.

Anyway, back to this guy, he’s got a firm grip on you. It should be totally horrifying, but you’re leaning back into him, and wondering if he’s handsome or not. Probably not. Handsome guys don’t feel the need to shove their dicks in ugly holes. It’s too dark to see his face. You feel prickly stubble on your cheeks when he grabs your face, forces you to kiss him. You don’t know how to kiss him so it’s likely clumsier than he anticipated. You taste the whiskey on his lips, and suck on his tongue when it slips past your parted pucker. Shit. So this is what it’s like. Makes your gut stir, panties sticking to your core with each passing second.

Doesn’t seem as tense as he previously was. Maybe he expected you to put up a fight, but he got lucky. Hit the rape victim jackpot actually. ‘Cause you’re willing to take any dick you can. Most cockhungry virgin in all the world. Other than the dizzying scent of alcohol, nothing else about him is inherently nasty, the nails that dig into your jaw seem to be trimmed well. His hair is better kept than yours ever is when you squint through the darkness at his looming figure. Huh. Hot guys really do fuck ugly bitches. Less pressure maybe. An ugly bitch like you wouldn’t complain one bit, not about his dick, not about how he’s roughing you up, how he smells, none of it. You’ll take whatever venereal disease he’s got just to know what it’s like. To be wanted. To be fucked.

“I’m sorry,” he says, he sounds earnest, you forgive him. He’s taking your virginity, something that’s way overdue, of course you forgive him. Especially with that voice. Gosh. Sounds like warm honey. He pulls your sweats over your hips, presses his hard cock into your ass cheek. Strange and fleshy. Firm and soft all at once.

He takes you like an animal. Stray dog mounting his bitch in a back alley. Sounds about right. It hurts like hell, you’ve never been able to force your fingers particularly deep. Too short, always missing the mark. He exceeds it. You’re pretty sure he’s bruising your cervix, the pace he builds is fast, then he runs out of breath and it’s slow. Sloppy. Lots of ragged breathing. You put a hand over your mouth, weep into your palm, nose running as this stranger fucks up your insides. Fat cock splitting you open on the ground. This is how it was always going to go, ugly bitches like you don’t get laid, they get raped. Reserved for filthy fucking. Sex and foreplay and all that shit is for pretty girls. You’re far from it.

“Jesus,” he hisses when you squeeze around him, when you jolt in pain, hips backing up into him. He runs a finger along your jagged spine, leaves you covered in goosebumps. “I’m sorry.” He says it again, and you know he means it. “I’m so sorry.”

You’re crying like a baby, your chest aches and your knees are scraped. It’s okay, you’d like to tell him, but a hiccup bubbles up in your throat. It feels good. Really. You like it. You’d let him do it again and again. You want to be needed. Want to be the subject of someone’s desires.

He finishes in three minutes flat. You don’t complain when his seed sticks to your ass, trickles down your thighs all sticky. You’re just glad you made him cum. You feel accomplished. Can tick it off your bucket list. He’s trembling more than you are when he stands up, offers his warm hand, refuses to look you in the eyes as you struggle to dress yourself. Feels like you got pins and needles. Hoisting your joggers up, you grab his wrist before he walks away.

You were right. He’s cute. Super cute. Facial hair is a little scraggly but who are you to judge? He’s older than you by a fair amount. Pretty eyes, low brows, dimpled chin. Looks like he should be in a movie with that face. Shoot your shot. Come on. “Hey, could I get your number?”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy imagine #tw noncon

[anonymousewrites]

Nature of the Human Soul (Book 1) Chapter Four

Platonic! Hazbin Hotel x Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Alastor x Teen! Reader

Chapter Four: New Hotel Guest

Summary: An unusual demon decides to come to the Hotel.

            Charlie, having spent the afternoon trying to get people to come to the hotel, crashed onto the couch of the lobby. She literally couldn’t go on after such a disappointing experience.

            “So, how’d it go?” said Angel.

            Vaggie sighed. “Not a single new recruit.”

            “Yeah. Well, who would want to use their last days not fucking and fighting?” said Angel.

            Something banged on the front door, and everyone paused to glance at it. Vaggie approached and opened it. Sir Pentious stood outside with his hat in his hands and an awkward smile.

            “Why, hello, my dear—Wait, wait, wait!” Pentious backed up as Vaggie whipped out her spear to point at him. “I come in peace!”

            “What are you doing here?!” snapped Vaggie.

            “Vaggie, what’s the problem?” sighed Charlie, dragging herself to the door. She gasped as she saw Pentious. “Oh, hello again!”

            “I didn’t come looking for a fight!” said Pentious instantly. “I, uh, I heard that you’re helping people. People who want to be better?”

            “You heard right!” said Charlie excitedly. “Welcome to our home of healing. Our resort of restoration. Our—”

            “Are you fucking nuts?” Angel blocked the entrance of the hotel before Charlie could bring Pentious inside. “That chump was trying to kill us, like, literally six hours ago. And now you want to bring him in here to live with us?!”

            “Absolutely!” said Charlie. “This place is about second chances! And who deserves one more than this…slithery…slippery…special little man.”

            “Do you want to rephrase that and make him sound any less suspicious?” said (Y/N), narrowing their eyes as they looked at Pentious.

            “He’s fine,” said Charlie brightly.

            (Y/N) looked at Vaggie. “Can’t you throw him out or something? Protect the hotel?”

            Charlie gave Vaggie puppy-eyes before Vaggie could say no. She sighed. “I…guess he’s not much of a threat without the war machine. Or even with the war machine.”

            Pentious deflated at not being thought a threat.

            “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” said Charlie, hugging Vaggie. “Sir Pentious, welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!”

            “Oh, no, darling, thank you!” said Pentious. “You won’t regret this.” He walked inside behind Charlie.

            Angel and (Y/N) narrowed his eyes.

            “I’m going to kill him if he tries anything,” muttered (Y/N).

            “Charlie won’t like that.” Angel looked at them. “And can you even control your abilities?”

            “I don’t need magic. I’d be angry enough,” said (Y/N).

            “Fair enough,” said Angel. “I give him a week tops.”

            “So, this is the bar and the bartender,” said Charlie, bringing Pentious into the lobby. “This is the curtain, and this is the new wall after you break the last one, heh, and, oh, this, this is—”

            “Babe, you don’t have to show him every detail,” said Vaggie.

            “Sorry, I’m just so excited to have our first real guest!” said Charlie.

            “Uh, what the hell are (Y/N) and I then?” said Angel, crossing his arms.

            “Well, you’re an important part of our family here, Angel,” said Charlie, smiling. “But you, um, uh…”

            “Constantly make us look bad, sexually harass the staff, and have literally never once tried to improve?” suggested Vaggie.

            “I haven’t done any of that,” said (Y/N).

            “You don’t care about what you did in life,” said Vaggie, putting her hands on her hips.

            “Doesn’t mean I don’t support you,” said (Y/N).

            “And you just agreed to let Alastor teach you to use magic,” said Vaggie.

            “Personally, I think that’s a great idea for myself,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            Vaggie groaned.

            “What she means is, it’s just nice to have someone more actively interested for once,” said Charlie with a smile.

            Angel’s smile fell, and (Y/N) frowned. They hadn’t done anything bad since arriving in Hell. And, yes, they weren’t sure about how this experiment would work, but if anyone could do it, (Y/N) thought Charlie could help people. That had to count for something.

            …Alright, maybe (Y/N) could be doing more, but in their defense, (Y/N) never got to have any fun in life, so they were just trying to enjoy themself in death.

            “Over here we have our maid, Niffty,” said Charlie.

            “The bad boy is back!” said Niffty, running up to Pentious. She jumped onto him and grabbed the lapels of his shirt. “Never leave me again.”

            “We’re about eighty percent sure she’s harmless,” said Charlie, laughing nervously. “And over here we have—Oh, uh, Alastor!” The Radio Demon had come to the lobby. “—Our gracious Facility Manager.” Charlie cleared her throat. “You’ve met our newest guest, Sir Pentious…”

            “Ah, yes. You’re the one who ruined my coat.” Alastor’s grin sharpened. I definitely remember you now.”

            Charlie interceded before any violence could occur. “Well, I guess this is a great time for your first lesson.” She cleared her throat. “ ‘How to apologize.’ ” She smiled at Pentious. “The first step to becoming a better person is to admit when you are wrong. Why don’t you give it a try?”

            This is gonna be good, thought (Y/N).

            “Yes, um…Mr. Um, Radio Demon, sir, please forgive me for attacking you and ruining your very lovely coat…” Pentious smiled nervously and held up a small scrap of cloth. “Um, here.”

            Alastor took the scrap. “Oh-ho, not many people have been able to take even this much off me. It must have meant quite a lot to you.” Green flames ate up the cloth while everyone stared. Alastor grinned.

            Charlie decided to call a hotel meeting before anything else could go astray with the new addition to the guests.

            “Now, with a new resident, I think it’s important we all get to know each other, so we are going to play a little game,” said Charlie. “Everyone, follow me! My name is Charlie.” She clapped twice. “I like to sing.” Two claps. “And when we get to know each other, it’s the greatest thing.” Two claps. Charlie smiled and gestured to Pentious.

            “My name’s Sir Pentious,” said Pentious. He clapped awkwardly. “I like to build.” Two claps. “And despite my stupid Egg Bois, I think I’m very skilled.” He clapped.

            Charlie gestured at Angel, and he deadpanned. “This is stupid.”

            “This is not stupid, it’s just the game,” said Charlie, clapping and singing. “Sir Pentious did it well, so now please try to do the same.”

            “I am too sober for this,” said Angel.

            “I can’t make up a rhyme on the spot,” said (Y/N). They attempted a welcoming smile to make Charlie happy. “But I’m (Y/N).”

            In Charlie’s next attempt at bonding, she put together a skit for Angel and Pentious to perform. It was, of course, cheesy.

            “ ‘Oh, I’m a bad man on the streets who never got enough hugs,’ ” said Angel. “ ‘Now, where’s an innocent kid I can sell crack to?’ Wow, who wrote this?”

            “It’s great, right?! Keep going,” said Charlie excitedly.

            “ ‘Hey, you!’ ” said Angel to Pentious, dressed as a stereotypical kid.

            “Who, me?” said Pentious, licking a lollipop.

            “ ‘Yeah, you look like a kid who could use some devil’s dandruff,’ ” said Angel, deadpan. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

            “Not me, I have to go home and study,” said Pentious proudly.

            “ ‘Come on, kid. It’ll make you cool like me. The crack head,’ ” said Angel.

            “The only cool thing here is to say no to drugs,” said Pentious. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to not have sexual intercourse before marriage.”

            “Oh, bravo, bravo!” said Charlie, clapping. “Wow, Pentious, at this rate you’ll be redeemed in no time.”

            I don’t think we have this to a science, thought (Y/N).

            “I…I’m going to bed,” said Angel suddenly, walking away.

            “I am so proud of you, Sir Pentious,” said Charlie. “That was amazing!”

            “Thank you,” said Pentious.

            Angel’s face fell, and he took his leave before his disappointment grew. He wasn’t working as hard as Pentious, and while he was being redeemed, Charlie was leaving Angel behind.

            (Y/N) watched him go and frowned. Hopefully, he’d feel better soon.

            “(Y/N),” said Alastor.

            “Yeah?” said (Y/N).

            “I believe we should begin your training,” said Alastor. His grin widened. “This will be quite entertaining.”

            (Y/N) had a feeling that meant just for him, but, hey, they were willing to do what it took to get stronger. (Y/N) needed to be strong.

l

            “Focus,” said Alastor.

            (Y/N) narrowed their eyes on the roses growing in front of them. “It’s kind of hard with you interrupting me.”

            Alastor waved his staff, and recordings of various broadcasts played around him. “Hell is the land of interruptions and distractions. You must be able to work through everything if you are to have skill.”

            (Y/N) bit their lip and opted to focus on the plants. Alastor was right. They couldn’t argue with him; they needed to get stronger. Hell wasn’t going to be kind to them. It was up to them to grow strong enough to protect themself.

            Alastor watched their roses grow and the briars twist into thorny traps. He wasn’t ordinarily the type to teach or to help anyone, but this could prove useful. After seven years, times had changed in Hell. Alastor needed to ensure his power was recuperated and held onto, so if this young, naïve demon could prove powerful and teachable (manipulatable), then Alastor would “help” them. Then, they could help him.

l

            (Y/N) had crashed into their bed after training with Alastor. It had been exhausting, but (Y/N) had started to be able to summon their magic, which appeared to take the form of plants—roses and briars. No matter how tired they were, getting stronger was worth it.

            “You slippery little shit!”

            A shout from Angel woke (Y/N) up, and they rolled out of bed quickly. Moving into the hall, they saw Angel glaring at Pentious as he cowered nervously.

            “You’re working for the Vees?!” snapped Angel. “I fucking knew there was something shitty about you!”

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” denied Pentious. “Whorebug!” He hissed out the word, and Angel tackled him in anger.

            “Whoa, Angel!” said (Y/N), reaching out a hand.

            Vines split the ground, grabbed Pentious and Angel, and dragged them apart before they could do any more damage to one another.

            “What’s going on?” said Charlie, yawning as she appeared behind them.

            “This little bitch is a traitor!” said Angel.

            “Preposterous!” said Pentious. “I would never betray you. You…are my best friends.”

            “Explain the camera you brought in,” hissed (Y/N), glaring and gesturing to Angel, who, equally pissed, picked up the tech in question.

            Charlie and Vaggie gasped, and Pentious flinched.

            “Ah! Abort, abort!” he cried, slithering towards the window. “SOS! Agent Pentious in need of immediate evacuation!” He looked at his wrist, revealing a watch with Vox’s face on it.

            “Pentious? Wait, you were caught?” said Vox. He laughed. “It hasn’t even been a day!”

            “Please, you’ve got to get me out of here,” said Pentious.

            “I can’t believe we thought you could handle even something this simple,” said Vox. “Do us a favor, if they don’t kill you, go ahead and do it yourself, you miserable failure.”

            Pentious stared at the watch, tears collecting in his eyes. “I…I…” He threw the watch to the ground and faced the group. “Just make it quicky, I guess.” He sniffled, stifling his sobs. “Not that I deserve it.” He curled up on the ground.

            “Gladly,” said Vaggie, hoisting her spear.

            “Wait.” Charlie pushed the spear back. “Pentious?” She extended a hand. Pentious looked at her questioningly.

(Charlie) “It starts with sorry.”

            She helped Pentious stand.

(Charlie) “That’s your foot, in the door. One simple sorry, Spoken straight from your core.”

            She touched his chest, and Pentious’s eyes widened.

(Charlie) “The path to forgiveness, Is a twisting trail of hearts, But sorry is where it starts.”

            Pentious stared at her, tears still in his eyes.

(Pentious) “Who could forgive a dirtbag like me, I don’t deserve your amnesty.” (Vaggie, Angel, (Y/N)) “Can’t we just kill him?! Shoot him and spill his blood?”

            Vaggie held her spear tightly, Angel pulled out guns, and (Y/N)’s vines reacted to their emotions.

(Charlie) “That’s an option you could choose.” (Vaggie, Angel, (Y/N)) “Works for us.” (Charlie) “But who hasn’t been in his shoes?”

            She smiled at Pentious, stepped past the group trying to attack, and extended a hand to him.

(Charlie) “It starts with sorry.”

            Pentious took her hand.

(Pentious) “Sorry.” (Charlie) “Dig down deeper and say, One sincere sorry.”

            Pentious looked at Angel, Vaggie, and (Y/N) earnestly.

(Pentious) “I’m so sorry!” (Charlie) “And your journey’s underway.” (Charlie, Pentious) “It’ll take time to cover. Your/my vast multitude of sins, But sorry is where it begins, It starts with sorry.”

            The song ended, and Charlie and Pentious smiled at each other. (Y/N) tilted their head. It actually seemed like Pentious was being honest. He was…changing.

            “I hated that song!” said Niffty, breaking the moment. “Why are you so lame?” She kicked Pentious’s tail. “Not a bad boy.”

            “Good first day,” said Charlie, still smiling gently. “Let’s get some rest.”

            She walked out of the room, Vaggie by her side. Angel gave a final glare at Pentious but walked out. (Y/N) followed but kept their eyes on Pentious.

            Can people actually change? (Y/N) hadn’t seen that in their life. But…maybe they just hadn’t seen the right people…

Taglist:

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@theyaremorethanjustfictional

@lanxianschoenheit

#nature of the human soul #x reader #gn reader #nb reader #x gn reader #x teen!reader #x nb reader #x teen reader #found family #found family trope #father figure #teen reader #teen!reader #hazbin hotel x teen!reader #platonic hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x teen reader #alastor x reader #alastor #platonic #platonic x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor x teen!reader #alastor x teen reader

[sillygoosealert]

🫡 I will send in a request for some Bi-Han angst. Let’s do one where reader and Bi Han are in an argument (as couples do) and reader says something that’s very true (like idk he’s too quick to anger) And this causes a reaction out of him. And of course, being a stinky sexy angry man, he ends up lashing out in anger. And OOP- ice shards come flying towards reader, (the cold never bothered me anyway) cutting her cheek and slashing her forearm, along with a few other scrapes. Bi Han realizes she’s actually fucking RIGHT and showers reader with love, praise, and begins helping with her wounds. (Fluffy? Apology sex maybe 🤔)

WAIT WAIT THINK THINK BRAIN BLAST THIS IS REALLY AMAZING

Enough Anna..I SAID ENOUGH o(≧口≦)o

Bi-Han angst to fluff to sex 🤯 afab

‘Do you even for once want to think about how I feel about this? Because if you took a second to even talk to me half of your problems wouldn’t exist.’

His back is turned from you as he washes the blood out of one of his uniforms

‘Why won’t you look at me, I want to talk to you but you make it so, so hard. Can you even look at me, can you handle looking at me?’

‘Wouldn’t you like that? For me to just look at you and change everything about me. This is who I am, and you can either acknowledge that or continue to live in ignorance.’

‘But this isn't who you are. You are making rash and unusual decisions. I'm worried you are going to do something you'll regret immensely. You're quick to rage and you know that.’

He whips around, ice coming from his arm going towards you

‘What would you know about being Grandmaster? I am helping my clan- my people. They are thriving and are respected because of me.’

You don't hear what he says as your arms go up to protect your face and stomach from the ice shards.

They slice through your skin with ease, going through your forearm and shoulder. One even skims your cheek

It was only after his speech that Bi-Han noticed what he had done, a rash, and unusual decision that he immediately regretted.

But he doesn't make a move to go toward you, he just stands there in shock

However, you move, you move away from him quite quickly

‘Come back here. I meant no harm in my actions.’

You do not come back. You run off to the nurses

When the sky turns dark and inflicts its symptoms of the night- drowsiness, and the need for another to be by your side as you rest; you are no where to be seen

He knows it would be better to find you himself

So he wonders around until he finds you, bandaged up and sitting on a bench

‘I have been looking for you’

You look in his direction

‘Why didn't you come back’

‘You know why’

‘Please come back’

He's frowning, more than usual

‘Please?’

‘Please’

You get up, slowly walking to him

‘What do you need me to do to get you to come back?’

‘I don't know Bi-Han, everything hurts and I'm injured. I don't know if I want to come back.’

‘I’ll carry you back if you would like’

‘You’ll carry me back?’

You sound amused but he looks serious

He picks you up bridal style and starts to walk back to his room

‘You can’t just change for a day and expect me to forgive you. I don't think you'll keep up with this.’

‘With what?’

‘Being nice to me.’

He doesn't say anything to that.

After he returns to his room, he sits you on the bed

‘You are dirty’

‘Yes, I am.’

‘How do I help you clean, with your bandages?’

‘I need to take them off first, then put on new ones after’

‘So it's fine if you clean your wounds in the bath?’

‘Yes’

‘Okay..’

He takes you to his bathroom, carefully undressing you

‘Ow-’

‘Did I hurt you, What did I do?’

‘My shirt, you took it off too fast. My shoulder isn't looking good, I can just take off my own clothes..’

He shakes his head, pulling you onto his lap

‘I will be more gentle. Where else do I need to be wary of?’

‘It's just my upper body, everything else is mostly fine’

After removing your clothes, he turns on the water

Keeping you on his lap, he strokes your hair with one hand, and the other is wrapped around your waist

‘Feel the water, is that temperature okay with you?’

‘That's fine’

He slips you in, holding onto your chest rather than your arms

‘I am regretful of my earlier treatment of you. Will you let me show you I am sorry?’

‘Depends, how do you plan on showing me you didn't mean to harm me?’

‘You will see’

After bathing you, he sits you on his bed

‘Where do I need to wrap you?’

‘Shoulder and arm, anything else is fine being left alone’

He's slow and cautious when treating you, knowing you are vulnerable

You sit there naked and shivering as a man, much gruff, holds you

‘Does that feel secure?’  

‘Yes, thank you’

‘I am..sorry’

‘I know’

He frowns, squeezing your cheeks with one of his hands

You return this act, cupping his face with one of your hands

When you think he's leaning in to kiss you, he just presses his forehead against yours

‘I want to make you feel good’

‘How do you plan to do that?’

He's in between your thighs, slowly laying down so his head is on your cunt

Oh

With a little kitten lick, he starts to work on your clit

His hands are gripping your thighs as you have a hold of his hair

Slipping in two fingers, he starts to pump them in and out of your warm pussy

One of his hands wonders onto your chest and plays with your nipple

Then he starts to thrust his tongue into your vagina, his fingers now playing with your clit

The pace is fast and hard, and he's grinding into the bed

His nose is stimulating you along with his fingers, its too much

You don't ask him to stop though, that doesn't even cross your mind

With another suck to your clit your hips stutter and you squirt into his mouth

He licks it up, even lapping at your pussy to try to get more

Sighing into the bed, he rides out your orgasm

When he doesn't stop though, your thighs clench around his head on instinct

Pulling away, he wipes his lips

‘Did you feel good?’

‘Yes Bi-Han, thank you’

‘Do you still hold what happened earlier against my character?’

‘I won't just forget what happened, but I don't hate you for it’

You run your fingers through his hair as he lays his head on your chest

‘Okay..’

‘I love you, I hope you know that’

‘Thank you..’

You kiss his head and you both doze off, what happened earlier doesn't matter right now

Nothing matters right now, it's okay

🎀

#mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat #bi han #bi han x reader #bihan #mk1 bi han #angst #mortal kombat bi han #mk1 angst #bi han smut #bi han mk #bi han mortal kombat #bi han sub zero #mk bi han #bi han x you #mk sub zero #mortal kombat sub zero #mk1 sub zero #sub zero #mk 1 #mk smut #mortal kombat smut

[dear--mars]

Do you think we’re soulmates in every universe?

── Synopsis: Soulmates. The concept sounded unreal, too good to be true. And it seemed it was. Nothing lasts forever and the thought of being together even in another world was just a dream.

── Characters: Wriothesley, Scaramouche, and Kaeya

── CW: Mentions of violence and alcoholism. Scara being a fucking weirdo.

── Notes: based on that tt trend :p. [angst/no comfort]

── Word count: 365 + 421 + 455 = 1241 words in total

Wriothesley ── Working in the Fortress of Meropide had its downsides. Situated deep underwater, the prison demanded constant overseeing. As the warden, Wriothesley's responsibilities included overseeing the fortress 98% of the time. 

Yet, in the cold and darkness of this watery prison, there was a beacon of warmth and light – you. To Wriothesley, you were akin to the sun, providing a sense of comfort and solace in an otherwise desolate and forbidding environment.

Wriothesley loved you more than he thought could love. Your unwavering support had been a constant source of strength for him, but he was beginning to realize that even you had your limits.

It was cold, more so than usual. Wriothesley thought it a bit unusual to feel this chill even though you were right in front of him, Unsurprisingly, you had come to visit. 

The recent visits you’ve made had been met with Wriothesley having to turn you away. due to a troublesome criminal who kept picking fights with the other inmates. 

There were no words spoken, odd considering you heavily disliked silence. Wriothesley was never big on initiating conversation so you did it. It was always you who would talk and he would listen. 

…

Okay. Wriothesley couldn’t keep pretending. He knew it was falling apart, your relationship, your love for him. It was fading away but he didn’t want to comment on it. Scared that if he pointed it out, everything would burn.

Yet he couldn’t stop his mouth from moving and uttered but one sentence. “Do you think we’re soulmates in every universe?” Wriothesley regretted asking immediately afterward but didn’t show it.

Your face glossed over in surprise and looked up from your teacup, gazing at him with unreadable eyes. “No.” Your answer was short but not sweet, more bitter if anything. 

You paused as if contemplating adding to your answer. “Not even in this one.” You finished and Wriothesley could feel his heart shatter. He wasn’t an idiot, Wriothesley knew what you were implying with your last sentence yet he couldn’t find anything in himself to refute your words.

He wasn't made for love and if you, his sun, thought so as well. Who is he to think otherwise?

Scaramouche ── A puppet. That’s all Scaramouche thought of himself as. That’s all Scaramouche saw in himself. A worthless puppet that failed at its life’s purpose. 

But with you, he felt like something more and he hated it. He felt something, felt the disgusting human emotions that no puppet should feel. He resented it. It was the reason behind his abandonment in the first place.

So why? Why did it feel so good? Why did you make him feel so good? Why did your hand caressing his hair feel so soothing? Why did your lips feel so soft on his? But most importantly, why did you make him feel whole?

Scaramouche was disgusted with himself. He was the 6th Fatui harbinger. A title that would spread fear in the hearts of people from all across Teyvat including yours but you didn’t know so what was the harm? 

But it seems like the world hated Scaramouche just as much as Scaramouche hated it. 

It seems that word got around that Scaramouche had a lover. Then one day, you got kidnapped by some Anti-Fatui organization. 

Scaramouche flew into a rage and saved you before you had gotten injured but not fast enough to stop you from finding out who he truly was. You parted ways that day.

It wasn’t until 2 years later when he was in Sumeru, that he saw a whiff of your scent when walking around at Port Ormos. He whipped his head around and followed the scent.

He saw you, working at a flower shop stand. Finally, after years of being apart. He walked closer, hearing footsteps you looked up with a customer service smile. “Welcome-...” your voice trails off as your face hardens.

“What can I get for you?” You asked coldly, glaring at him. Scaramouche froze, you used to look at him with such gentle caring eyes but that wasn’t the case here.

Scaramouche’s mouth moved on its own, spewing out the stupidest question he could ever ask. “Do you think we’re soulmates in every universe?” It was dumb, even Scaramouche could admit he cringed Immediately after he finished his sentence.

“I didn’t even want you in this one.” You said emotionlessly and Scaramouche’s face was the one that hardened this time around. He grits his teeth. 

Of course, you would say that. Scaramouche didn't know what he wanted you to say but he knew that that wasn’t it. Why would he have expected anything else? And why did it feel like his heart was taken away once again?

Kaeya ── Being with Kaeya was not for the weak of heart. He was a walking red flag. Kaeya was a raging alcoholic and was never afraid to show that nor did he bother to change.

But most importantly, secrets. He kept so many secrets. It wasn’t that bad at first, mostly because you tried to justify it on his behalf. ‘Everyone has secrets.’ was what you’d tell yourself.

And you were right. No matter know long you’ve been together, it seems that Kaeya never truly trusted you. Not once during your entire relationship did he ever confide in you or your help.

And just as everyone has secrets everyone has their limits and you had just hit yours.

It was late at night, almost 2 am yet Kaeya wasn’t home. You guess that he was in the tavern and after going there yourself, you guess right. There Kaeya was, slumped on the bar counter with an empty glass of wine in his hand.

Kaeya’s brother, Diluc, gave you a nod in acknowledgment as you went to your boyfriend’s side. You tapped his shoulder and Kaeya slowly looked up at you. A sly smile on his face when he saw you.

“Darling!” He hiccuped. “What are you doing here?” He asked, his words slurring together. It was a miracle you could still understand him. 

“It’s almost 3 in the morning. I'm here to take you back home.” You said softly, rubbing his back soothingly, trying to persuade him.

“Aww.” He whined. “Don’t wanna go home yet…” He mumbled with a frown and you couldn't help but sigh. “But we have to. You have work tomorrow.” You reminded him. 

Kaeya was staring off into space before you heard him mutter something out. You had to strain your ears but you caught on to what he asked. “Do you think we’re soulmates in every universe?”

Your breathing stilled as you looked at him with an unreadable expression. You answered without thinking of the consequences of your words. “Are we even soulmates in this one?” you whispered, your voice filled with pain and unsureness.

You immediately slapped your hand over your mouth and thankfully it seemed Kaeya didn’t hear it but you felt someone’s eyes bore into you in shock. You turn and see Diluc looking at you flabbergasted.

You turned away, ignoring his gaze before you focused on Kaeya. You slung his arm over your shoulder as you walked out of the tavern. Kaeya didn’t hear your answer but a part of you wish he did.

You're stuck with him for as long as he wants. He’s a red flag but can’t help loving him even if you know in the end you're the only one getting hurt.

- Navigation -   - Prismarine -

#genshin impact #genshin angst #genshin imagines #genshin impact fics #genshin impact headcanons #genshin drabbles #genshin impact drabble #Wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley angst #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche angst #Kaeya #kaeya x reader #kaeya angst #marsworks

[mysaintkitten]

idek what to title this, i’ve been procrastinating and i’ve been thinking about capa so now we’re here.

prompt: needy reader and needy capa get it on (18+, MINORS DNI !!)

WARNINGS: kind of subby!capa ?? (he’s just so horny), oral (f receiving), veryyyyy temporary mutual masturbation, unprotected sex (p in v)

*not proofread*

it had been months, no, years, since you’d been intimate with anyone. prior to joining icarus II, you weren’t exactly getting too much action. but now that you’re out in space with limited people and a very stressful job at hand? you had essentially become celibate, whether you liked it or not.

it was easy to manage at first. no one on board really peaked your interest— besides capa. he’s handsome, smart, funny if he’s in the right mood, overall not too shabby. and since you had very few others to gawk at, it made capa stand out a lot more.

the harder you started to crush on capa, the more difficult things became. not only could you not have sex, you could barely get off. the only true privacy you get is in the shower and even then you can only be in there for a limited time, so there’s no point in wasting water.

then when you were assigned to work with capa full time, you reached your tipping point. you’d spend hours alone with him, working, sometimes talking, but working for the most part.

but, during an unusually slow and boring day, you and him talked for what felt like hours. you even got comfortable enough to open up about your desire for intimacy, although you hoped that it wouldn’t come off as to desperate or “slutty” (as if being a slut really matters at this point in time).

capa opened up too, he wasn’t as open as you were willing to be, but he was vulnerable enough. he’d been struggling too. really, everyone was probably struggling in that sense, but it felt nice to be validated by capa in a way.

things started to get a bit ‘playful’ between you and capa, you kept it hidden as best you could, but when you were alone together you were sweet and a bit affectionate. of course, nothing wild, but little things like playing footsie, hand holding, even hugs. that’s all you allowed yourself to indulge in for the first little while.

but one night, when everyone was asleep, you and capa snuck into a vacant observation room. initially, you had intentions of only talking, but that was shut down almost immediately.

you and capa giggled like children as you locked the door behind you, feeling a rush of adrenaline despite not doing anything explicitly wrong. as you place your back against the wall while smiling kindly at capa, you notice his demeanour has changed. he isn’t giggling, and he’s still smiling, but for a different reason.

“you know, i’ve been thinking ..” capa murmurs as he slinks his body closer, leaning on his shoulder directly beside you. “if we’re smart about this, i think we can both get something that we want. and no one would have to know.”

“what do you mean?” you question with a confused face, although you already have an inkling as to what he’s hinting at.

capa smirks and caresses your palm with the pads of his fingers “you know ..”

your eyes go wide at his confirmation. you want to feel him so badly, but it’s too risky. a moment of pleasure doesn’t outweigh a lifetime of regret.

“capa, i don’t know if we should ..” you whisper, fighting your urge to push him down and fuck him right then and there.

“we can be good about this!” he pleads, inching himself closer and turning his body to where his chest is nearly touching yours. “we’ll be fine, you’re a smart girl, aren’t you?”

you feel yourself becoming flustered, you struggle to look capa in the eyes. they’ve become darker, slowly but surely filling with lust.

“i am.” you reply with a swallow,

“yes, you are.” he agrees, brushing stray hairs from out of your face. “so come on. and we’ll probably work better without all this pent up energy, huh?”

your heart starts to race and a heat between your legs begins to form, “yeah .. that makes sense ..”

“mhm.” he purrs, his body now flush against yours, you can feel his bulge straining through the fabric. “can i kiss you?”

you nod, lips slightly agape. he brings his lips to yours, moaning quietly at the sensation of your soft lips against his. the kiss quickly becomes heated with capa trailing his hands down your body. his touches are sexual, but they have a hint of curiosity to them. it’s been so long since he’s been this close to a woman.

how they feel, how they taste, how they smell, he’d almost started to forget it. but with you here, it’s all flooding back to him now, and he can tell his body is slipping into a primal-like overdrive. he feels your pheromones are nearly intoxicating to him.

“feel like a teenager again ..” capa giggles breathlessly between kisses. you decide to get handsy as well and place your hands on his back, feeling up his shoulder blades and spine.

“fuck ..” he mewls, “need more ..”

he dropped to his knees and began to pull your shorts and underwear down, promptly revealing yourself to him. you hadn’t been anticipating any sort of sexual contact, so you weren’t exactly groomed to your liking. if you had known this was going to happen you would’ve shaved for him, but alas.

“i’m sorry i’m not exactly .. bald ..” your voice trails off as you blush, dancing around what you actually wanted to say. you were afraid the faint hair may put him off, but it didn’t, not in the slightest.

“i don’t care .. fuck, i don’t care ..” he groaned, nearly whining at the simple sight of you being bare right in front of his eyes. he runs his dry hands up your thighs, gripping the soft skin gently. while panting from pure arousal, he begins to kiss your thighs, occasionally looking up at you with an infatuated glare in his eye. like you were some sort of god to him at that moment.

“you’re a woman.” he breathed, it rolled off his tongue like a praise. he continued to kiss along your thighs, inching closer and closer to your aching core. it had been so long since you’d been touched, let alone ate out. your knees nearly gave out from anticipation.

you card your fingers through his hair as you watch him, his breath getting heavier and heavier with each passing moment. while making eye contact with you, he begins to kiss your needy cunt. slowly switching from wet pecks to desperate licks. he moaned at your taste, gripping your ass as he pushed your hips against his face harder.

“c-capa-“ you whimper at his eagerness and the sudden wave of pleasure. with a hum, he brought his tongue to your hole to lap up any and all of your spilling arousal, using his nose to stimulate your clit.

“tastes fuckin’ incredible ..” he admitted, quickly resuming his licks and sucks. what he lacked in skill he made up for in passion and eagerness, he wanted to make you feel so good, and it was clear by the way he whined and huffed against you.

“i missed having good pussy on my tongue.” he chuckled, smacking your ass playfully. you yelp at the slight sting, but it quickly shifts into a moan as he nips at your sensitive inner thighs. “i could eat you all goddamn night, but i need a little relief of my own, baby.”

you feel yourself becoming slicker as capa begins to tug off his pants, his flushed member standing to attention. as soon as his cock is freed, he begins to weakly pump it for you. his eyes scanning up and down your body as he basks in your feminine presence.

copying his behaviour, you slowly begin to play with your clit, watching how he sighs and slouches at the gesture, clearly enjoying the show.

“could i ride you?” you blurt out, almost embarrassingly fast, your arousal clouding your thought process. no point in pretending anymore, you want to fuck him and you want to do it now.

“fuck, please.” he begs, he sounds pathetic, but that only further enables your arousal, knowing you have a man on his knees begging for you.

you push his shoulders back gently so he’s laying against the cold floor, as he lays back you straddle his lap and begin to roll your hips against his member. you and capa both moan at the sensation, capa balls his fists up and begins to rut against you as well. at this point, you’re just grinding against each other raw.

“baby ..” he pants, dipping his head back for a moment. your stomach tingles at the pet name. “if we keep doing this ‘m gonna come.”

while biting your lip, you raise your hips and align his tip with your opening, teasing him slightly before lowering yourself down into him. you gasp at the fullness, while capa groans at your warmth.

“could i-i, fuck, could i see your tits?” he whines as he involuntarily thrusts up into you, he feels like he can’t control himself at this point. every ounce of his being is burning with arousal.

you lift your hips up and ride him, meeting his thrusts. while you ride him, you shakily lift up your top. you leave the shirt on but bundle up the fabric above your tits, for some reason it feels hotter that way.

capa groans and plants his feet on the floor, holding your hips in place as he fucks up into you harshly.

“o-oh fu-uck!” you sob as capa pounds into that sensitive spot from within you, hastily you bring your hand between your legs to rub your clit. both of you knew this wouldn’t last long, so you just want to enjoy it while you can.

capa feels like his brain is melting, he doesn’t know where to look. he can either watch your tits bounce with each thrust, he can watch your pretty little face contort with pleasure, or he can watch his cock slide in and out of your heavenly cunt. he can’t settle on one, so he eagerly switches between each of them.

“you’re so fuckin’ wet ..” he choked as he watched his member glisten with your arousal. since being on icarus II, capa began to dream of situations like this. it was normally faceless women, but he was absolutely feigning for some tight wet pussy, despite how much he tried to hide it.

“don’t stop— please ..” you huff. you know capa won’t stop, he’s too far gone to quit now, yet the words still fell from your mouth. you haven’t felt so good in so long, you don’t want it to end.

“won’t stop.” capa slurs as his thighs shake from exhaustion, “fuck. can’t stop stop, baby, feels too fucking good.”

your orgasm begins to build up from within you. both you and capa are shaky, sweaty, desperate, and close. you place a hand behind you for stability and dig your nails into capa’s knee as he thrusts into you, your other hand still stimulating your clit as best you can.

capas cheeks are flushed, his pupils are blown, and plush lips hang agape. you want to tell him he looks gorgeous, but you can’t seem to find the words to at the moment.

“‘m getting close.” he hissed as his grip on your hips got tighter, “come on my cock. please, baby. i need to feel it. please.” capa rambles mindlessly, you’ve felt like an absolute dream the entire time but the sight and sensation of you coming undone on his cock would be the cherry on top.

“yes, yes, yes-“ you gasp as your orgasm finally breaks through you, the stimulation on your clit comes to a stop but capa continues to fuck into you as you come for him. you release a loud, guttural moan at the pleasure. mere seconds after, capas whining beneath you about how close he is and how pretty you look when you come.

after pulling out, capa feverishly pumps himself and quickly spills his load onto your ass and his thighs while groaning and whimpering.

you shakily slide off his lap and sit on the cold floor beside him. while attempting to fix your appearance, you both giggle at what you had just done. since it had been so long, it felt almost innocent. just two desperate people who wanted to feel each others bodies.

“can we do this again tomorrow?” capa asks while attempting to catch his breath

“tomorrow?” you raise your brows, “you want to make this a routine?”

capa laughs, “you shouldn’t have given me a taste, baby, now i’m going to keep crawling back for more.”

—

sorry, had horny capa thoughts, can you really blame me tho.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #robert capa #robert capa x reader #sunshine 2007 #hope y’all like this #:)

[hamsterclaw]

Untouchable

Yoongi lets you know exactly how he feels about upsetting comments you've received. A Vows story, read the rest here.

Pairing: Yoongi x f! reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Sex, swearing

Word count: 1.5k

You jerk upright from where you’re slumped over your computer screen when you hear your husband’s voice.

It takes you a moment to regroup, gather your scattered thoughts from the tunnel you were in.

Yoongi’s walking around your desk, and he’s not visibly hurrying, but he’s rounded the curved edge to stand beside your chair before you can say anything, let alone close the window you were looking at.

He glances down at the screen, and for a single panicked moment, you want to fumble for the power button, send the cursor to the x in the corner, anything, just so he won’t see.

You’re too late. 

Your face burns as he reads over your shoulder.

He doesn’t say anything, just reads the comments quietly.

She’s just some privileged chick, no one likes or respects her.

She’s shit at her job but you don’t have to be good when you’re working for one of daddy’s companies.

I can’t believe he went out with Park Gyuri and ended up with her instead. 

I’ve heard she’s being investigated for fraud. I doubt she’s smart enough to fool anyone 😂

JFC

I fucking hate people like her

You say, staring at a spot on the wall just beyond the screen, ‘I’m fine.’

Yoongi says, mildly, ‘You’re more than fine.’

‘It’s stupid,’ you continue.

You risk a glance up at him to find him looking at the screen, lip curled in disgust.

He says, without looking at you, ‘stop reading this shit and come have dinner with me.’

‘Yeah,’ you agree. 

You turn your screen off and follow him to the kitchen.

It’s your housekeeper, Mrs Gye’s night off, but true to form, she’s prepared food for both of you.

Yoongi fixes you a plate and you fall into the routine you’ve adopted lately. 

You fetch wineglasses and pick up the uncorked bottle Mrs Gye’s left by the wine rack.

Yoongi says nothing as he watches you gulp down a half glass of wine before you’ve even sat down.

He sets your plate down in front of you with a murmured, ‘Eat.’

It’s only three mouthfuls in that you realise he’s looking at you carefully.

You tilt your chin up. ‘Take a picture, it lasts longer.’

Yoongi raises a brow. ‘Do you have a social media manager?’

‘Not right now,’ you hedge.

‘One of our interns is looking for a job. They run most accounts for our 18-25 demographic. They’re excellent. You should consider hiring them,’ Yoongi says evenly.

You mull this over as you chew. 

‘I don’t need you to save the day, Yoongi,’ you say. 

You regret your spikiness as soon as the words leave your mouth.

Old habits die hard.

You still haven’t learned how to talk to your serious, cold, husband in a non-defensive way, pillow talk notwithstanding.

Yoongi shrugs. ‘Seems funny to me that you’ll happily make me come apart in that sweet mouth of yours but won’t let me reciprocate.’

You stare at him. ‘You reciprocate plenty.’

Yoongi looks amused. ‘Do I please you in bed, love?’

He takes a sip of his wine. ‘Let me please you outside of it too.’

You sip your wine, trying to think. 

What’s Yoongi saying?

He sighs, and it’s more familiar than anything else. 

Your impatient husband.

He stands, picks up his glass and the half-full bottle.

‘Come on.’

You follow Yoongi to the bedroom you now share.

The balcony doors are open, a cool night breeze making the curtains sway.

He walks right up to balustrade and turns to you.

His shirtsleeves are rolled up, unusual for your usually conservative husband.

He looks so beautiful leaning against the balustrade, his hair gently ruffled, his eyes dark and serious as he looks at you.

‘I hope you don’t need me to tell you not to worry about what anonymous idiots on the internet think,’ he says.

His expression is difficult for you to read, but his voice makes you feel warm. 

‘I don’t care what they think,’ you say. You put your empty glass down and position yourself next to him, facing out at the gardens on the Min estate. 

You look over at him. 

‘I don’t care what you think,’ you say, your defiant streak rearing its head again.

Yoongi turns his face to you. 

‘My stubborn little brat,’ he muses. 

He closes his eyes, tilts his head back, and unbidden, you step between his legs, pressed against his front.

He doesn’t move except to slide his arm around your waist. 

‘I care,’ he says, eyes still closed.

Your eyes fly to his face.

‘I care what you think of me, and I care that some assholes had the audacity to bring that shit to our door.’

His eyes open, and he tilts his head to yours. He stops when your foreheads touch, so close his lips brush your cheek as he speaks.

‘You’re a Min, you’re part of me,’ he murmurs.

His lips part again. ‘You’re fucking untouchable.’

You’re already tilting your face to kiss him when he slides his warm palm around your cheek, cupping the back of your head.

His kiss is slow, languid, but somehow you’re still breathless when he finally pulls away.

He presses his lips to yours again, and this time his tongue licks into your mouth.

You melt into his arms. It still surprises you every day how your husband can make you burn for him.

Heat licks through your veins as he nuzzles against your neck, nudging your chin up so he can lave your skin with his tongue.

‘Yoongi,’ you whisper, trying not to moan as he sucks the skin of your neck.

He chuckles, low, the vibration of his breath on your neck making heat pool low in your belly.

‘Do you care what anyone else thinks, jagiya?’

He licks a stripe up your neck. ‘Or do you care what I think?’

He grasps your hand. ‘Touch me.’

You reach out, unbutton his shirt, and when it’s fully unbuttoned, slip your hand underneath.

Yoongi’s quiet as you explore the planes of his back, as you unbuckle his belt and undo his trousers to feel more of him.

‘Do you like this, Yoongi?’

‘I like it very much, jagiya.’

He’s still, letting you stroke over his ass, hissing as you wrap your fingers around his length.

You lower your lips to his cock, and he closes his eyes.

His throat bobs as he swallows.

You take him in your mouth, tongue pressed firmly to the underside of him.

Yoongi’s hand comes up to hold your chin.

He’s hard inside your mouth, throbbing, but his voice is remarkably calm when he speaks.

‘Only you can get me like this, jagiya.’

He strokes your hair back from your face. His fingers tighten in your hair as you start to move on him.

He moans. 

‘Don’t stop,’ he pleads. ‘You feel so good.’

His thighs tense beneath you. When you look up you realise he’s watching you intently, pupils blown, lip tucked under his teeth.

You grasp his hand, slide it around your back to your bra hooks.

Yoongi’s only too happy to help you undo your bra. 

He runs his thumb over the indentation between your breasts from the edge of the underwire.

��My poor girl,’ he says, his breath quickening as you move on his cock. ‘Mark so easy.’

His hand curls around your bare breast, taking the weight of you. 

He fondles your breasts as you lick his cock, murmuring his approval as you tug on his balls.

His hand hesitates on the back of your head, until you pull off him just long enough to say, ‘go on, fuck me, Yoongi.’

Yoongi groans, bucks his hips up into your face. He pushes you down on his cock, shouts your name, and a moment later you feel him spurting into your mouth.

‘Come here,’ he says. 

He pulls you up, into his lap. You can feel his heart pounding against your face, pressed to his chest.

Yoongi puts his hand between your legs like it belongs there.

He slides the tips on his fingers into you shallowly, stretching you, palm over your clit.

You grasp his wrist when he tries to pull out.

Now you’re the one pleading. 

‘Don’t stop,’ you moan.

You bury your face in Yoongi’s neck as his fingers move inside you. You can feel yourself getting wetter, the slide easier, as he curls his fingers inside you.

‘Yoongi,’ you cry, so close now you can’t bear it.

‘Come, jagi,’ Yoongi urges. He scissors his fingers, pounding into you hard, and you squeeze his wrist as you come.

Yoongi stays still until you let go of his wrist.

‘Did I hurt you?’ you ask.

Yoongi snorts. ‘You let me shove my dick down your throat and you’re worried about my arm? You’re unbelievable, baby.’ 

He steadies you with an arm firmly around your waist as you climb off him.

‘Maybe I’ll take up your offer,’ you say.

At first you don’t think he’s heard you, then he nods.

‘That’s a good idea. At least I don’t have to execute plan B.’

‘What’s plan B?’

‘Tracking down those assholes and fucking them up,’ Yoongi says, blithely.

You’re pretty sure he’s joking.

#yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #bts smut #yoongi fic

[illiterateaffairs]

DISTRACTIONS VIII | OPEN WOUND

pairing: jamie tartt x f!reader (ted lasso)

rating: T

word count: 7,743

summary: you and jamie have officially taken your relationship to the next level. but jamie still feels like he isn’t good enough for you. 

A/N: once again, thank you all for all of the patience as you waited for this long-delayed chapter, as well as everyone who reached out while i was under the weather. i love and apperciate all of you! this was a hard chapter to write, even now that i’m feeling better, so i hope it was worth the wait. icymi, thinking this is chapter 8 of 12 formal parts so we’re almost at the end, but i anticipate writing more drabbles set in this universe!💗

distractions masterlist | previous chapter

It wasn’t unusual that Jamie woke up before you, however it was usually when he had to meet up with Roy for training. This morning, though, once he opened his eyes and saw you sleeping peacefully beside him, there was no falling back asleep. He’d had the forethought to text Roy at some point last night to tell him he wouldn’t be able to make it to practice, knowing there was no chance he was leaving this bed without you.

Yesterday has been a rollercoaster for Jamie. After a few days of impending dread that you were going to end things with him after feeling you pulling away, you’d called and invited him over. The sound of your voice made his stomach flip and he’d had a shred of hope for the first time in weeks that maybe these feelings he’d developed for you weren’t one sided. Once deciding to go to your place after meeting with the team to fix up Sam’s restaurant, he was feeling confident enough to confess to you no matter what. He couldn’t let this go on any longer without you knowing what you meant to him. 

The nerves crept in when the boys and he were finishing up dinner, and he’d texted you to let you know he’d be over soon. 

“I can’t wait to see you,” he’d boldly texted only to regret doing so when he received no reply from you. 

You’d probably fallen asleep on the couch watching one of your shows, he’d told himself. He texted you one more time before he started driving to let you know he was on his way. By the time he reached your flat, there was still no word from you. It wasn’t like you to not respond, even over the past few weeks when things were rocky, you still never fully ignored him. You had to be asleep. 

He debated how loud he should knock, simultaneously not wanting to disturb you if you were in fact passed out on the couch, but also just wanting to at least be reassured you were alright. He ended up knocking at a normal volume, and was pleasantly surprised to hear your footsteps approach only moments later. A small smile instantly formed when he saw you, until he noticed that you looked like you’d been crying. He quickly moved to comfort you and his mind began racing with thoughts of what could have possibly made you so upset, and no matter what it was, he’d do anything to prevent it from happening again. 

You didn’t get the chance to explain when another person popped the bubble you two seemed to form whenever you were together. Upon processing that another man was in your home, his chest began to feel like a piano had dropped onto it. Who the fuck was this? He thankfully had enough sense to analyze the situation and see that whoever this was, was clearly upsetting you so he couldn’t let his thoughts get too carried away. But that didn’t stop him from feeling defensive. Jealous. Protective. 

As soon as the name Mason was uttered from the prick’s mouth, Jamie had to hold back from decking the guy across the face, for everything he did to you months ago, and for having the nerve to show up here and cause you any more distress. Then he had the nerve to call you ‘babe’ like he had any right to even be in the same room as you, let alone call you a term of endearment without any sense of affection behind it, only possessiveness. But he knew punching your ex wouldn’t make you feel any better.  

Somewhere in the midst of his quiet rage, and focus on your well-being, the other man accused the two of you of being together, and Jamie quickly realized this meant you must have told him about the two of you in some capacity. At that moment, he wasn’t sure if you’d used him as an excuse to kick your ex out, or if it was true, but it didn’t matter. All he knew was this asshole needed to get as far away from you as possible. He almost threw all chivalry out the window when he watched Mason step closer to you, but luckily you moved away and maintained composure as you once again asked him to leave. Jamie immediately backed you up and all but pushed Mason out the door. As soon as he disappeared down the stairs, relief flooded Jamie’s chest and his heart pounded when you’d asked him to stay. 

However, anxiety started creeping back up when he remembered what Mason had said. 

“Don’t tell me he’s the one you moved on with?”

Had you moved on from Mason completely? And did you have feelings for him?

He’d hesitantly and quietly asked you just this, and you’d shyly admitted that you had indeed fallen for him, and Jamie could not remember a time when he’d been more happy. And despite his nerves, he never felt more proud to share that he had feelings for you, too. The rest of the night was a blur of kisses and tangled up limbs. He’d had great sex countless times before, specifically with you, but it was beyond incredible that night. You were incredible. 

Now as sunlight crept into your room, he watched you sleep peacefully in awe. He could not fathom how he’d gotten so lucky to even know you, let alone call you his. He’d hoped you were his - not in a possessive sense - in a relationship sense. But between all the sex and lazy pillow talk in between, you two hadn’t exactly decided on any labels. He knew you were more than friends, and certainly more than just benefits, but he was a bit unsure of what that looked like from here on out. 

He wasn’t aware of how much time passed as he watched you breath and traced nonsensical shapes across your hip, but before he knew it your eyes - your beautiful eyes - were fluttering open to meet his. 

A warm smile takes over your face as you process your surroundings and Jamie can’t help but reciprocate. 

After a few more quiet moments, you whisper, “Hi.”

“Hey,” Jamie whispers back. He doesn’t hesitate to close the very minimal gap between your two heads to kiss you, but your fingers press against his lips before he can. 

“I have morning breath,” you whine quietly. 

“That’s never stopped me before,” he tuts playfully and presses his lips against yours anyway. Despite your initial complaint, you hungrily reciprocate and Jamie practically smirks into the kiss

As much as you want to get carried away, you reluctantly pull away and lean your forehead against his. “I guess we never really talked about what happened last night.”

“We were a little busy.” 

You huff out a laugh, but don’t meet his eye. After a few quiet seconds, you speak up again, “I’m sorry about Mason. He showed up out of nowhere.”

Jamie frowns, leaning away from you a bit, “You don’t need to apologize for him.”

“I know,” you nod, your fingers beginning to play with his absentmindedly between your two bodies, “I just feel bad that you even had to see him. I feel bad that I had to see him.”

“I don’t care about him,” he assures, his free hand combing through your hair comfortingly, “I just care that you’re alright.” 

You nod, “I’m okay.”

After a beat, Jamie finds himself asking, “Was there any part of you that…considered taking him back?”

“No,” you answer immediately, clearing Jamie of any worries, “I think I want to believe his apology because I know I deserve one, but any feelings I had for him are completely gone. I have feelings for someone else. In case you missed that part.”

Jamie grins, “No, I remember that part very clearly. I think you said something like, ‘Jamie you are the nicest, sexiest, most talented footballer I’ve ever met and I can’t go another second without being with you’.”

You snort, “I don’t quite remember it like that. Was that before or after you told me I’m ‘the hottest, funniest, cutest person you’ve ever known and that I would make you the luckiest man in the world if I was your girlfriend’.”

Jamie laughs, “Not sure I said all that.”

You shrug, “Well, it’s all true, so can’t see why you wouldn’t’ve.” 

Jamie’s amused smile turns into a shy one. “Even the part about you being my girlfriend? You really want to be that?”

You give him an unsure smile of your own, “I do if you want to. Be my boyfriend, I mean.”

“Oh, I definitely do,” he nods, leaning forward to press his face into the crook of your neck, “I’d be the luckiest man in the world, apparently.”

You laugh loudly, from his return of your joke but also from the vibration of his words against your throat. You settle down as his words turn into soft kisses that trail up to your jaw, to your cheek, and to your ear. As Jamie peppers more soft kisses across your face, nerves replace the butterflies in your stomach.

“Jamie?”

He plants one last kiss against your lips before peering down at you from above, “Yeah?”

“Would it be okay if we still kept our relationship quiet for a little bit?” you ask timidly. “I think I’d like to stay in this bubble we’ve had for a little longer, while this is still new, if that’s okay with you?”

Jamie’s quiet for a couple moments, and you worry that this is a deal breaker for him. However, he gives you a small smile a second later which instantly alleviates your nerves. He settles back beside you and pulls you into his chest.

“Of course,” he whispers into your hair, “I like having you all to myself. Although, I should probably tell you, Roy sort of knows.”

“Oh, yeah,” you chuckle, “I kind of knew that.”

“What?” Jamie’s eyes narrow, “How?”

“He mentioned it to me the other day. Wanted to make sure I wasn’t leading you on for nothing.” 

“Oh.”

“Yeah, it was sweet, actually. Didn’t see that coming from Roy Kent.”

Jamie snorts. 

“In that case, you should know that Rebecca knows.” 

“I did know that.”

“And Sam.” 

“Wait, what? Sam, too?”

You nod, peering up at him through your lashes, “I only told him yesterday when I was panicking over how much I like you.”

“Aw,” Jamie smirks, “Kinda nice to know the effect I have on you.”

You roll your eyes, “Well, he told me you’ve kinda been obsessed with me this whole time.”

Jamie’s smirk drops, “What did he say?”

“Just something about Richard talking about me, and you flipping out.”

Jamie’s eyes fall closed, “I did not flip out. I just respectfully let him know you wouldn’t be interested in him.”

“Says who?”

“Says who-?” Jamie’s eyes snap open and so does his jaw. He spends half a second in complete shock before seeing the playful smile on your face, “You’re mean.”

“I’m sorry!” you laugh into his chest, “But you’re cute when you’re jealous.” You look up at him and see him pouting. You give him another grin and begin kissing up his chest to his neck, “Don’t worry,” you whisper between kisses, “I am all yours.” 

Jamie sighs as you continue pressing kisses to his neck before ultimately capturing his lips with yours once again. There are voices in his head trying to convince him this is all too good to be true; that he should be more worried about your need for secrecy but he ignores them. For now he allows himself to get completely lost in you. His girlfriend. 

You and Jamie arrive at the club separately later that morning, Jamie having reluctantly left your home to go to his so he didn't show up in clothes from the night before. However, you somehow manage to show up within moments of each other. 

As you walk into the parking lot, you find Sam exiting his car and eagerly approach him with a kind greeting. You can tell he wants to ask you whether or not you confessed your feelings to Jamie the night before, but before you can put him out of his misery, Jamie’s own car pulls into the lot. He gets out and while you both try not to make eye contact, you can’t help but feel a gravitational pull toward one another. 

Jamie nods at you, “Morning, Y/N.” 

“Good morning, Jamie.” Neither of you can keep the goofy smiles off your faces. You’re lucky Sam is the only one around - you’ll need to be better about keeping this on the down low. 

“Hey, Jamie,” Sam calls out with a smirk of his own that only grows when Jamie’s eyes snap to his in surprise. 

Jamie smothers his smitten smile for a more cordial one, “Hey, Sam. See you inside?”

Sam nods. Jamie gives you one last look and another tiny smile before walking away. 

You can barely look Sam in the eye as he spins back around to face you with a shit-eating grin. 

“Don’t-”

“You did it!” he squeezes your shoulders and shakes you gently, “You told him you liked him!”

You can’t help but laugh as you shush him, “While it didn’t go exactly as I would have wanted, yes. I told him I liked him and he likes me and we’re…together.”

“Yes!” He engulfs you in a tight hug, “I’m so happy for you.”

You squeeze him back, “Well, can you be happy and quiet? We’re trying to be discreet for a little while longer.” 

“Why?” Sam questions, pulling away from you, “I thought you’d be excited.”

“I’m, uh, buying time to try to figure out how to tell Keeley,” you explain to him, “I know that it's been a while since she and Jamie were together, but I don’t want to break girl code, you know?”

“Ah yes, the rules of female friendship are very sacred,” Sam nods sagely,  “I guess we should get inside. I want to make sure I have time to tease Jamie before training - discreetly of course.”

You snort as the two of you head inside. You part ways with Sam after making him promise to be nice to Jamie, before you head towards Rebecca’s office. 

You poke your head in her doorway and the older woman beams at you from her spot on the couch. She sets down her cup of tea and gestures eagerly for you to sit with her. As you sit beside her on the couch, you look around the room, trying to figure out how to tell her about your updated relationship status. However, Rebecca lets out a gasp, interrupting your brainstorm.

“Oh, my God, are you and Jamie are officially together?”

Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head, “How the hell do you do that?”

“I’m psychic,” you tilt your head in interest and Rebecca rolls her eyes, “No, you just looked nervous and I saw Jamie when he came in a few minutes ago and he seemed like he was on cloud nine. Figured it had to do with you.”

You shake your head, “You’re still ridiculous.” 

Rebecca shrugs with a grin, “What can I say?” She pokes your arm, “Why don’t you look as happy? This is a new development I assume, so you should be in the honeymoon phase.” 

“We are. I am. I just…we’re still keeping it a secret,” you sigh, before quickly adding, “Except from you, Sam, and Roy.”

“Uh huh. And why exactly do you need to keep it a secret if you’re actually dating him now?”

“I’m procrastinating telling Ted,” you admit sheepishly.

Rebecca frowns, “Why? Ted adores Jamie.”

“I know. And Jamie loves Ted. That’s the problem. He looks up to him. I don’t want to make their dynamic weird by putting myself in the middle.”

Rebecca shakes her head, “Or it could make it all the better.”

You shrug, “I think I’d rather wait a little before I find out.”

“I support you whatever you decide, but I think you worry too much about other people,” Rebecca sighs, “But you’re happy, though? With Jamie?”

You bite your lip to keep from beaming, “Extremely.” 

A slow smile creeps its way onto Rebecca’s face before the two of you start squealing.

Jamie finds it hard not to proclaim his feelings for you when Isaac asks him why he’s in such a good mood, but he manages to find something else to say. That something else being: “The fuck? I’m in a normal mood, thank you very much,” to which Isaac holds his hands up and backs off, muttering, “Okay, I take it back. Relax, bruv.”

Yeah, he wasn’t exactly thrilled you were still keeping your relationship a secret, even after graduating from just fuck buddies. But you were together and that was all that mattered. He was happy, and you were happy. At least he assumed - hoped - you were happy. You wouldn’t just enter another relationship that wasn’t making you happy. Unless you were just doing it to make him happy. But then why would you confess your feelings first? 

God, Isaac was right; he did need to relax. He was just in his head. This was the first time he was in a real relationship with someone. Sure, he’d had relationships before, with Keeley and other girls, but this time he gave a shit. A lot of shits. So many shits it made his stomach hurt, he thought he needed to take a shit. But he felt like he was tricking you into dating someone who may or may not have been just as bad as your last boyfriend. You had no idea the prick he used to be. While he knew he wasn’t that guy anymore, and that the absolute last thing he’d do was hurt you, he was still terrified he’d accidentally end up doing that anyway. He worried a part of you thought that would happen, too. That’s why you weren't jumping at the chance to tell everyone. Again, he understood and believed what you said about not wanting to burst your personal little bubble yet, but his insecurities were louder than his common sense. 

As he sorted through his locker, nearly giving into all of his toxic thoughts, Sam popped up behind him and almost gave him a heart attack.

“Jesus,” Jamie startled as Sam gripped his shoulders.

“I hear someone’s got a girlfriend,” Sam sing-songs softly. Jamie spins to face him and cautiously looks around the locker room, “Don’t worry your secret's safe with me. I just wanted to say that I’m happy for you, mate.” 

Jamie feels his cheeks heat up and the side of his mouth quirks up, “Thanks, man.”

Sam smiles back, “And for her, too. I only found out she liked you yesterday, but I can tell how happy you make her. It's kind of adorable.” As Sam starts to step towards his own locker, he playfully adds, “Just don’t fuck it up.”

Jamie’s stomach flips. If Sam thought he made you happy, it had to be true. He also heard Sam’s other point loud and clear - he couldn’t fuck it up. He swore on his life he wouldn’t. And if that meant not telling anyone else for the time being, his lips were sealed. 

Over the next few weeks, you and Jamie manage to keep your relationship a secret all the while finding time to meet up at the club or at one of your respective flats. In some ways it's like nothing has changed as you sneak in make out sessions - or a little more - during lunch breaks, but in other ways it's not. Jamie particularly likes the little things your elevated relationship status brings to the table. You’re a lot more affectionate and share more words of affirmation, things Jamie hasn’t been particularly used to. Jamie’s the same way with you, and he opens up more little by little. You can tell there are things he’s still holding back, but you trust that he’ll tell you with time. 

Just as your relationship has been better than ever, so has AFC Richmond’s track record. Since their victory at Arsenal, they’ve won three more games in a row. Jamie cheekily credits you with part of the reason he’s been doing so well as of late, and while you know that’s hardly the truth, you still accept the compliment and the many, many kisses that follow. 

You’re together for about a month when Michelle and Henry visit England, along with Michelle’s new boyfriend, Jacob. In anticipation of their trip, you talk yourself up to the idea of telling your aunt about your new, official boyfriend. You were nervous to tell anyone in your family, particularly your dads. And Ted. You figured Michelle would be good practice and she’s always understood you differently than the paternal figures in your life. She used to be your go-to person to talk about boys with, and was the first person you told when you started dating Mason. But once you’d moved to Chicago and things with him started feeling off, you avoided talking about him when you could. This was different though. You were happy and proud to be in a relationship with Jamie. It should be easy to tell people. You should be bragging about it. 

Unfortunately, when the opportunity strikes itself, you freeze. Jacob was making sure the last of their things were ready for their Paris trip, and Ted was getting Henry ready to go to the club, so you and Michelle had a moment alone. She even teed you up perfectly and asked if you were seeing anyone, but instead of enthusiastically telling her about Jamie, you anxiously laughed and told her no. No, there wasn’t a guy who treated you like you deserved and made you feel you’ve been struck by lightning every time you’re together. You told her you were happily single, straight to her face, like a liar. Because you were a liar. 

The last few weeks you’ve been making up excuses to Jamie, Sam, Rebecca and yourself as to why you couldn’t admit to anyone else that you were dating Jamie. And while all of those reasons had validity, there was still a nagging feeling in the back of your head that didn’t want you to tell anyone even if those little worries went away. But you didn’t know what it was. You just hoped it went away sometime soon so you could be with Jamie in the way he deserved. Not hiding away, but out in the world together. With a modest amount of PDA. You weren’t an animal. 

You push the uneasy feelings in your stomach away to wish Michelle and Jacob well on their trip. You stand beside Ted and Henry and wave them off as their taxi disappears down the street, before the three of you start your walk to Nelson Road Stadium. A few minutes in, Henry naturally walks ahead of you giving you and Ted the chance to talk. Per usual, he senses that something’s off, but you tell him you’re just a bit down this morning, and that Henry being here was already starting to cheer you up. Then you whisper that Jacob annoyed the shit out of you the entirety of your breakfast at Crown and Anchor. Who the hell dates one of their formal couples-therapy clients? You could tell Ted has also been uneasy since your meal, but he lightly scolds you and tells you to play nice. You do manage to clock the tiny smile in the corner of his mouth when you quietly refer to Dr. Jacob as a wanker and you take the tiny victory. 

When you arrive at the club, you part ways so you can get set up in your office for the day, but you tell Henry he can visit you at any time. He knows the drill not to tell anyone that you’re related, seeming to understand the power dynamics of corporate culture in his own little kid way. There was a reason he was your favorite cousin. 

He takes you up on your offer barely thirty minutes later. He bounds into your office, already going on about how Will showed him what it takes to be a Premier League kitman, and you barely have time to wonder how he knew where your office even was. Henry sits criss-cross-applesauce on the chair across from your desk as he asks you questions about your job and you try to make it sound as exciting as possible. He lights up when you tell stories about the mishaps you’ve witnessed during team training. You’re nearly about to attempt a PG explanation of the red-string incident - though you’d only heard about it second hand from Jamie after the two of you shared a particularly potent bottle of wine a couple weeks ago - when the man himself appears in your doorway already dressed for practice. Your heart skips a beat, both from seeing his face and the mental reminder to not let your secrets slip to either of the boys in the room, but you trusted them both enough to let yourself relax.

“Hi, Jamie,” you call out brightly, alerting the younger boy to the footballer’s presence. Once he turns to see Jamie, he eagerly sits up and greets him, “I was telling Henry here all about the glamorous life of a Premier League club owner’s assistant.”

Jamie nods and crosses his arms, “Hmm, what do you say, Henry? Would you rather stay here and help her go through documents all day, or come to training with me and the team for a bit?”

“Definitely training!” Henry exclaims with no hesitation.

“Okay, ouch.” you tease with a fake frown. 

Jamie chuckles and nudges Henry’s arm, “You can head down to the pitch if you want then. A few of the boys should already be down there waiting for ya.” 

“Awesome!” Henry cheers, practically sprinting out of your office. He calls out a goodbye and apology to you, promising to spend time with you tomorrow.

Jamie quirks an eyebrow at that and your heart stops briefly again, but you remain calm.

“What’s tomorrow?” Jamie asks, shutting the office door so you’ve got some privacy. 

You shrug as nonchalantly as possible, “He probably said that to be nice.” 

False. You had lunch plans with Henry, Ted, and Beard tomorrow. Yet another lie you’d told today. 

Jamie nods, his eyes trailing you as you get up to formally greet him with a kiss.

“What brings you to my office?” you ask, pulling away but keeping your arms interlocked around his neck. “Can’t stay away from me?”

Jamie smirks, “While that is true, Ted actually asked me to bring Henry to the pitch while he talked to Rebecca about something.” 

You hum, with a small smile, “Did you know you’re kind of Henry’s favorite player on the team?”

His smirk turns into a genuine grin, “He told you that?”

Technically no. But since you’ve been working for the club, every time you’ve had the chance to speak to Henry over Facetime, he always asks about Jamie. And you knew it wasn’t a coincidence he was number 9 on his own soccer team. Even when you and Jamie weren’t an official couple, and before you’d even started hooking up, you thought it was cute how much Henry looked up to the footballer. And when you commented on it, Ted remarked that Jamie always made Henry feel special each time he visited, even early on when Jamie was less than the friendliest guy on the team. You had to admit, being good with kids was definitely a turn on. 

You just nod. Jamie’s smile turns mischievous again. “Who would you say your favorite player on the team is?”

You bite your lip and look off in the distance pretending to think. 

Jamie lightly squeezes your waist and scoffs, “If you say Richard, I swear…”

“You know it's not Richard,” you laugh, fixing him a look as you lean closer to him, “My favorite player is obviously Sam.”

Jamie groans and presses his forehead against yours. “You are still so mean,” he whines, but you can hear the laugh in his voice.

You giggle, “You can be my second favorite.” 

“Huh, well second is the best, some say.”

“Yeah, some.” You tease, pressing another kiss to his lips, “You should get to practice.”

“Yeah,” Jamie sighs, but doesn’t hesitate to kiss you long and hard one more time. “Can I come over tonight?”

“I would be disappointed if you didn’t.” 

Jamie gives you one more sweet smile and kiss on the cheek before leaving you alone. Alone with thoughts of why you couldn’t possibly want to shout about your relationship from the rooftops. But for whatever reason, you weren’t ready yet. You just hoped one day soon you would be. 

For some reason, Jamie cancels on you that night. He doesn’t offer much of an explanation as to why, but you trust he has a good reason. So, you tell him not to worry about it and offer up a rain check for the next night. Instead of responding yes or no, Jamie thumbs-up the text, which you aren’t thrilled about, but you try not to overthink one weird text exchange. Either way, you’d reach out to him tomorrow and see if he was still acting off. 

In effort not to dwell on the strange interaction, you busy yourself with making dinner. While your meal is in the oven, you also call Keeley. Earlier that day, you’d heard the news about her personal photos getting leaked and since you were swamped at the club, you didn’t have a real chance to reach out. While it's been a minute since you’ve seen the girl, each of you busy with your jobs and respective relationships (not to mention you still hiding yours from her in particular), you could tell she appreciated hearing from you. 

After cheering her up a bit with some words of comfort, and then a bit of girl talk to distract her, you settle down on the couch with a bowl of baked ziti and your laptop. First, you answer a few emails. One was from your dad of a goofy meme that he definitely could have just texted, but you respond nonetheless with a culturally relevant GIF. The other was from Kara, your old coworker from Chicago. You’d kept up with her pretty regularly since your move, exchanging texts now and again, but using email for longer life updates. You’d admitted that you’ve been seeing someone to her, but haven’t given details as to who yet, and that’s as close as you’ve gotten to telling anyone out of the circle of people who already knew. 

You’d also confided in her about writing again, which you hadn’t really done with anyone else either. Telling your dads or even Ted or Michelle would put pressure on it you weren’t ready for. They’d be so excited for you, of course, but then you knew your dads would follow up with questions about whether you were going to do anything with the book you’ve been writing, and while that was the goal, you weren’t that far yet. Once it was in better shape you’d happily tell them. 

And that’s what you do with the rest of your night. You bang out a few more chapters of your rom-com novel and then get to bed at a reasonable hour. You try not to dwell on the fact that it's the first night in weeks you’ve gone to bed without Jamie, but you push the thought away in order to get a good night’s rest. You’ll probably hear from Jamie in the morning. 

And you do - but he just hearts your text when you wish him a good morning and say you hope to see him that night. At least it was a heart instead of a thumbs up. 

Something was definitely wrong. You should just ask, but your brain keeps making up horrible reasons for his distance, starting and ending with him wanting to break up with you for some reason. You knew that couldn’t be it. You saw him less than twenty-four hours ago and everything was fine. Something else had to be bothering him, but you wanted him to tell you himself and only if he wanted to. 

Again, you throw yourself into activities to distract you. First with an uncharacteristically large breakfast for one, and then with work at the club for a few hours before you meet up with your cousin, uncle, and surrogate-uncle at Crown and Anchor for a late lunch. You tried to text Jamie a couple times throughout the day, but only got minimal responses still. Ted and Beard can both tell something is off, but you force a smile and listen intently as Henry recounts their morning at the West Ham game. 

You do manage to enjoy the rest of the evening with your family between bursts of anxiety when you see Jamie hasn’t sent anything. But you’re both relieved and twice as anxious when you see him standing outside your apartment as you arrive home that night. You wonder how long he’s been here.

“Jamie?” you call out softly as you reach the top of the stairs. It’s very obvious he’s not in a great place, “Are you alright?”

You’re surprised when he shakes his head and answers honestly, albeit avoiding your eye line, “No, I’m not so great, actually.”

You gulp, but try to give him a reassuring smile, “Okay. Do you want to come inside and talk about it?”

He nods and you move forward to start unlocking your front door. You two silently enter the flat, the only noise coming from the rummaging as you lock up and discard your coat and bag. A few moments later, you take a seat on the couch and look expectantly at him to join you, but he just shuffles to stand in front of you, staring at his barely worn Nikes. 

“Jamie?” you speak up again and try to sound as gentle as possible, despite your increasing heart rate, “You know that you can talk to me about anything right? But you also don’t have to talk about it if you're not ready.”

He nods again, once, and you study his hands, and he clenches and unclenches them into fists a few times. You want to be patient with him, but with each passing second, you make up more and more worst case scenarios for how this was going to go.

“Did you hear what happened to Keeley?” he finally asks after a few minutes of excruciating silence, “About that video getting leaked?”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. That’s not what you thought he was going to say.

“Yeah,” you force out, brushing past your confusion, “Yeah. Its so fucking shitty. I actually talked to her last night. She’s upset, of course, but she sounds like she’s holding up okay.” You explain. You study him for a few seconds before continuing, “Is that what you’re upset about?”

He once again silently bobs his head up and down, before he admits, “She actually made that video for me. The one that got leaked. Back when we were dating.”

Your mouth forms an “o”, starting to recognize some puzzle pieces but unsure of how they fit together. “Are you worried that you’re the reason it got leaked? Because you know it's not your fault. Whoever the asshole hacker is, who leaked everyone's shit, is to blame.”

“I know but I should have made sure everything was deleted,” Jamie sighs, his voice practically cracking as he slowly continues, “And it's more than that.”

“What is it, Jamie?” you question, “Because if you think it's that I’d be upset about the video itself, I’m not. You and Keeley dated a long time ago.”

“It's not that,” Jamie says, finally looking at you, “This happening has just reminded me of what a shit person I used to be when I was dating her and how she deserved better than that. And so do you.” 

You frown, sitting up a little straighter, “Don’t say that. I know about your reputation back then, but it doesn’t matter. You’re not the same guy you were.” 

“Yeah but you don’t know everything.”

“Jamie, I don’t care-”

“Please,” he pleads, “You have to let me say this. It’s been eating away at me since I met you. You have to know.”

You take a deep breath, and not knowing what else to say, you just nod encouragingly. 

Jamie takes a deep breath and once again looks at the floor before he begins, “I wasn’t just a dick to Keeley. I cheated on her. I actually probably cheated on most of the girls I’ve been with. Honestly, for a few years, I can’t think of a time where I wasn’t seeing a girl or hooking up with another until a little while after Keeley and I broke up. I didn’t really know it, but I think I used my relationships or sex as another form of validation. It didn’t matter who I was seeing, if someone was interested I went for it. I just wanted to feel…good. I liked the attention. I liked being wanted. Not that that makes it okay, it definitely doesn’t. Especially with Keeley, who was probably one of the most genuine people I was ever with. And that’s why I feel even worse that the video got leaked.

“I didn’t feel that way with you, though. I still don’t. I wasn’t just sleeping with you for validation. Not that you don’t make me feel good or wanted, because you make me feel that way even when we’re just watching TV or playing a board game. But all that mattered to me was making you feel good, even when I thought all I was was a distraction for you. I knew all you wanted was sex, and I knew I was good at it, so I was more than happy to help. But even then I was so hyper aware that if you really knew the guy you were sleeping with, you’d hate me. 

“Your ex is the biggest idiot in the world for cheating on you and making you feel like you weren’t good enough, and I’m glad you’ve moved on and that I could help you do that. But deep down I know that I’m just as bad as him. Maybe even worse. I have been an asshole to every girl I’ve been with, and I regret that, but it's the truth. I avoided telling you for so long because I was afraid if you really knew the kind of guy I was, you’d stop seeing me. But I wanted to tell you now, so that you could if you wanted to. Stop seeing me. Because I wouldn’t blame you.”

Jamie could barely hear the sound of his own voice as he finished his impromptu speech, with his own heartbeat ringing in his ears. As much as he hated to admit all of that, he knew he needed to. It’s been his inner monologue for months, he just finally needed to air it all out. And he felt like he owed you the full picture, so you knew what you were getting into; so you could decide if you really wanted to be with someone like him. You deserved a good man. One who was better at all of this and wouldn’t fuck it all up like he knew he could. He was still fucking up with Keeley after all of this time. You deserved better than him. 

After a few beats of silence, he forces himself to look at you again, unable to fight the morbid curiosity of how you’d react. He manages to make out the tears forming in your eyes, through the tears welling his own. He didn’t realize he’d gotten so emotional during his speech, but he figures it's the guilt coupled with the fear of what you’d do. 

He could tell you were biting your lip as you figured out what to say. This was it. You knew he wasn’t just a prick, but a cheater, too, and you were trying to find the right words to kick him out of your home and out of your life. 

His breath hitches as you rise from your spot on the couch and take hesitant steps towards him. He almost flinches at the movement, but instinctually relaxes as your hand finds his own and intertwines your fingers together with a squeeze.

“Jamie,” you hoarsely whisper, and the sound of you saying his name makes his heart skip a beat, “Before I say anything else, I need you to know I am not going anywhere.”

Jamie lets out a loud breath of relief and your lips quirk up just a little. 

“I really appreciate you telling me all of this, I know how hard that must have been,” you continue, “I am also sorry that somewhere along the way you’ve been made to feel not good enough - because I get it, I do - but you are absolutely good enough. For me and for everyone who is lucky enough to know you. I also need you to know that even at the beginning you were more than just someone I want to have sex with. You are someone I like talking to and someone who makes me laugh and has always made me feel safe, especially when I arrived in a brand new city at a time in my life when I didn’t know what the hell I was doing.

“What you did in the past was wrong; cheating on Keeley or on anyone. But what matters is that you realize it was wrong, and that you’ve learned and have grown. You are not that guy anymore. The guy I’ve gotten to know over the last few months knows right from wrong, is considerate, is kind, is attentive, and is still a bit of a prick sometimes, but he wouldn’t be himself if he wasn’t. And I really like that guy. Again, I respect you for telling me this, but I don’t care about your past, Jamie. I know who you are today and I want to be with you.”

Every word you said was true. Sure, it hit a nerve to hear Jamie has cheated before, especially with someone as amazing as Keeley, but despite those nagging voices in your head, you knew in your heart he wouldn’t do that to you. 

Jamie’s lip quivers a bit at your assurance that you’re not leaving him. But still, he’s crippled by self doubt, “I’m still afraid that I’m going to fuck something up one day.”

“You probably will,” Jamie sputters, so you quickly place a comforting hand on his cheek and barrel on, “But so will I. We’re both bound to mess up from time to time because nobody’s perfect, Jamie. All that matters is that we try.”

Jamie nods. He’s unable to deal with even the minimal space between the two of you at this point and pulls you completely into his arms. “I can do that,” he whispers into your shoulder.

You melt into his embrace, “Good.”

It’s a blur, but somehow over the course of the next few minutes, you both end up back on the couch, completely wrapped up in one another. His head is resting on your chest as you lightly brush your fingers through his hair. You shush him as he attempts to make more apologies about not being truthful, as well as for blowing you off the last day or so. You’re happy to spend the night reassuring him that he was forgiven and that you were very happy with him. Immensely so.

“You know who might like to hear some of this,” you eventually comment and Jamie hums in question, “Keeley.”

You peer down at him as he plays with the string of your Richmond sweatshirt, of which you of course stole from him.

“I know. I’ve been meaning to.” He agrees quietly, “Think I just wanted to talk to you about it first.”

“That’s okay,” you smiled against his head, “Maybe next time you don’t have to stand outside my door waiting for me to let you in.” He looks up at you curiously, “Maybe I could make a copy of my key…so you can wait inside next time you want to talk. Or see me…If you want.”

You don’t know what possessed you to propose this idea all of a sudden. Maybe it was all the emotions surrounding his confession, or maybe it was how much you hated sleeping alone last night. Either way, you liked the idea of him being able to show up as he pleased. And even though you’ve officially been a couple for only a month, emotionally you’ve been together a lot longer. 

A genuine grin appears on Jamie’s face for the first time that night. “That sounds nice.”

“Yeah?” a smile of your own starts forming.

“Yeah,” he props himself up to brush his lips against your cheek, “I can see about getting you a copy of mine as well, but I honestly think I like being at your place a lot more than mine.”

“I like you being here, too.” you gently pull him on top of you for a full fledged kiss.

Jamie eagerly reciprocates and feels the weight that’s been on his chest the last couple of days fully melt away. He would definitely still talk to Keeley, but he’s comforted by the fact that he not only still has you, but that you didn’t look at him any differently after knowing more about his past. 

Also, despite his unsuredness over you wanting to keep your relationship a secret, he no longer cared about that either. You made it very clear tonight that you wanted him and thought he was good enough for you. He still hoped to one day proclaim his feelings for you to the world, but for now, being with you in any capacity was more than good enough for him.

A/N: once again, thank you all for reading and all the love and support! this was one a beast to figure out and write, so i hope you liked it! i’m also envisioning that my original drabble “i like you” takes place in this four weeks they are dating at the start of this chapter <3

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#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x f!reader #jamie tartt x female reader #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #mine #distractions series

[wontontrap]

Feast for Kings | Prelude

【 The origins of cuck!Eddie and corruption!kink reader explored

【 Part I | Part II

【 Gareth spies on Eddie roughly fucking you before being invited to join in on Master's fun

【 18+

【 Content warnings: cuck!Eddie, reader has corruption kink, reader is unsure of her roles, face fucking, intimidation, rough sex, heavy mentions of bodily fluids, protected/unprotected sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, spanking, name calling, degradation, mean!Eddie, bully!Eddie, ownership kink (if you squint), threesome (duh), reader and Eddie are in a relationship

Eddie had called you just as the school was letting out. Something about a slashed tire on the van. There were people who still thought of him in a certain light, and it wasn't unusual that he'd run into problems with a random townie every once in a while. You left work early and headed to Hawkins High feeling annoyed but excited to see him 2 hours earlier than you would've had you finished your work day.

Graduating had been both liberating and disarming for Eddie, and lately he worked on a peaceful transition of power within the Hellfire Club. The throne would pass to Gareth. Gareth who was freshly 18 with his whole senior year ahead of him. Gareth who was exceptionally smart and painfully sweet. You loved Eddie and you loved his passions and his brazen pageantry, but with Gareth at the helm the club might actually grow and thrive and serve a purpose for young kids. An actual school club and not the mythical mafia Eddie ran for almost 6 years.

You pulled into the parking lot next to Eddie's van, and walking around to assess the damages, you see none. You roll your eyes to yourself, starting your walk to the side doors. You make it to the club room after a short stroll through the hallways.

"Eddie?" you call into the dark, empty room.

The candles are lit although the game's landscape isn't setup.

"The queen has arrived," you hear his low voice.

"Eddie, there's nothing wrong with the van. Why did you make me leave work? I'm on thin ice after calling out for the entire weekend last month," you meekly tell him.

"And what a fun weekend that was, sweetheart." he replies. "I just missed you, is all. Wanted you."

"Eddie not here, okay? Let's just go home and we can-"

"After today," he cuts you off, "I'm going to try very hard not to step foot in here ever again. But, one last time, I'd like to have my queen in the throne room."

As of late, you and Eddie had been having semi-public sex a lot. Every so often he'd get these sexual hyperfixations, and you had always partaken in the joy of the acts with him without issue. You seemed to always like the same things and as for the public component, the threat of getting caught was very exciting to you. Sometimes you did get caught and it was even more exhilarating. So you say yes.

"Just be quick, okay?" You whine, wishing he'd take you home and break the bed with you instead.

"I can promise you anything but that," he says.

He closes the gap between you and presses his lips to yours, gentle pecks at first, just saying hello after your day away from him. Your kisses grow deeper as he tightens his hold on you, his other hand fisting into your hair. You pull away with his bottom lip in your teeth, a bold move on your part, but then again you were celebrating.

"Fuck." He breathes.

He drops to his knees, unbuttoning your tight jeans. He pulls them down your legs and you step out of them. He drapes them nicely on a nearby chair, always the gentleman. He presses his face to your clothed cunt, breathing in your scent.

"Eddie," you interrupt him, "Hurry up we don't have time for-"

You regretted the words as you were saying them. He stands towering over you now, and before you could blink you were face down on the table listening to the sound of his belt unbuckle.

"Throne or not, I'm still your king," he says, "And you'll be an obedient queen or else-"

The leather of his belt cracks against your ass. You whine.

"I'm sorry," you blurt out. "I'm sorry my king. Please, use me however you like."

The game had started. You tried to maintain your momentary position of power but you betrayed yourself with the poor suggestion to hurry his fun along.

With his belt tossed aside, you feel your panties slowly being dragged down your ass. You step out of them and he immediately pockets them before spreading your cheeks and spitting onto your pussy.

He delves two fingers into you and you pulse around them, already wet from just kissing him, the touch of the leather the cherry on top. You whine.

"Shhhh," he coos. "You can take it, angel. After all, you said to hurry up."

He languidly moves his fingers in and out of your fresh slick, and you rock back on them, sending them deeper into you each time. You reach down to rub sloppy circles into your clit, hiking your leg up to bite your own thigh.

"Jesus Christ," he breathes, stepping back.

"That's so hot, don't stop."

You continue to unabashedly pleasure yourself, pussy clenching around nothing as you abuse your clit. A string of drool trails from your thigh to your puffy lips.

You hear the sound of Eddie's zipper as you continue, and not long after your feel the tip of his cock start to enter you. He holds your leg for you now as he roughly pushes past your folds and all the way into you. You stretch your arm out, gripping the desk you lay on as he ruts into you like an animal. This angle opens you to him in a new way and he bottoms out with each thrust, reaching your depths and jolting your senses with each snap of his hips. You've stopped your assault on your delicate clit and now use your fingers to spread your pussy open further for him. His cock brushes past your fingers as you watch him fuck into your gaping hole.

"You're so fucking perfect" he breaths, "I can't believe I get to ruin this pussy whenever I want."

You were about to tell him not to stop. To never stop fucking you like this, and that's when you see him. Widened eyes and flushed cheeks, shadowed by the large cabinet he hides behind. It's Gareth. You can see his heavy breathing, see him tugging at the bulge in his jeans. Something in you flutters but you know it's wrong.

"Eddie stop!" you cry out.

He immediately stills.

"What? What's wrong?"

You turn to cover yourself, hiding behind him.

"Look," you say, pointing.

"Well, well, fuckin' well," he says. He tucks his angry cock into the band of his boxers, pulling his jeans up and leaving them undone.

He drags Gareth from his hiding spot and forces his face down onto the nearest desk.

"What the fuck are you doing, kid? You creepin' on me and my girl? Trying to see how a real man does it? I can't teach you everything."

You can see in his face that Gareth is terrified despite the boner still growing in his jeans. You have nothing to cover yourself with and quickly attempt to put your jeans back on commando.

"Stop," Eddie says.

You don't stop, you can't. You're fueled by embarrassment.

"I said - stop," Eddie says, voice barely a whisper.

Eddie had taken his new fixation to an even newer high just weeks before. It was a full moon at the lake, his favorite time and place to fuck you outdoors. He was balls deep in you with the back doors to the van wide open, overlooking the water, when a youngish man about 30 came strolling through in jogging gear. He had stopped to rest just across a shallow expanse of stream. He could see everything, but couldn't get to the van without crossing at least a waist length of shallow water. He was surprised to say the least, to see you with your dress around your waist, Eddie's bicep around your neck. Eddie continued to give it to you hard from behind. Your makeup was already running from him having throat fucked you minutes before. You pouted and put on a show for the man as Eddie whispered in your ear, "Such a whore, such a good little whore for me." You hadn't known what came over you, but you had laughed, licking your lips as the man jerked his cock hard with his pants around his ankles.

You stopped. And stood there. Stood there with your intimacy exposed and your barely there tank top, straps of your lace bra fallen down your shoulders.

"Stay." He told Gareth.

And he did. Kept his face pressed firmly against the desk as Eddie pulled you aside.

You were incredibly embarrassed and he held your face in his hands.

"Hey, sweetheart," he began, "it's alright."

He continued. "He's just a curious kid," I'm gonna put him in his place and we'll get on home, yeah?"

"Okay," you said, glancing over at him. You lingered.

"What is it?" He asked.

"He's just so innocent," you blurt out, "You're right, he's just curious," you continue, musing.

You cock your head to the side, feeling less embarrassed now as a myriad of unclean thoughts run through your head. Only a few feet away Gareth's eyes are screwed shut, face still down on the desk, and a bulge still prominent in his jeans. Eddie grabs your face again, turning your eyes to his.

"What do you say we give him a show, huh?"

You mindlessly nod yes.

"Maybe even give him a little gift, hmm?" He proposes.

Your eyes widen.

"Me?" You ask, loudly than you meant to, "I'm the gift?"

"If you're okay with that," Eddie says, "If not I'll just blow my load in you in front of the kid and scare the shit out of him," he chuckles.

"I guess I-" you began, "I guess I'd be okay with that if you are. The thought of-," you stutter, "The thought of corrupting him is exciting," you admit. "But, I didn't think you'd ever want to see me with anyone else. Wouldn't that make you angry? And-" you pause, "Would I not be yours anymore?"

Eddie's eyes darken as he listens to you. "He'll wear a rubber. And I'll watch him squirm as he fucks you while you swallow my cum like a good whore. It's about power, sweetheart. I want him to know how perfect you are - with limits. He can have a taste, but he'll never have the whole cake. My pleasure is your worship. But your pleasure belongs to me."

He roughly grabs you by the chin.

"You'll milk him dry while he squeals and moans like the little bitch boy he is. Meanwhile, I spit roast you with my cock down your little throat before finishing you off the way you want it most," he whispers.

You're panting now, new arousal coating your thighs as Eddie drags you by the chin to the desk in front of where Gareth lies. He bends you over, spreading your legs, your pussy on full display.

He grabs Gareth by his bushy head of hair, the boy's eyes now looking directly at your tight hole.

"How's about a coronation gift?" he says, laughing.

Gareth shakes his head, trying to avoid looking at you.

"Boss I could never!" He shouts.

"Oh but you will," Eddie replies, "You wouldn't wanna disrespect me, would you kiddo? If you're going to be me, you have to practice being me in all respects."

They're both staring at you now, at your most intimate parts. You can feel Gareth's huffed breaths on your bare pussy and you gently moan.

"Is this-," Gareth begins, "Is this real? Is this really happening?"

"Gare Bear," Eddie begins, a sickly sweet tone to his voice. "If you can fuck my girl proper, I'll know you're ready to take the helm."

Eddie hoists him up by the collar before reaching into his pocket to fish out his wallet. He files through the compartments before pulling out a foil wrapped condom. You and he had stopped using them ages ago.

"The Lone Ranger!" Eddie exclaims. He hands it to Gareth.

"Know what to do with this, kid?" He asks.

"I think so," he says, shyly.

"Have you ever-" Eddie began to ask.

"Once", said Gareth. "At summer camp. But she wasn't-, I mean she-"

"Wasn't like my girl," Eddie finishes. "No one is like my girl. That's why she deserves to be appreciated like the fine art that she is."

He slaps your ass hard and your body jerks. Gareth's breath hitches and Eddie laughs.

"Go ahead, Gare Bear, she's waiting."

"This isn't a joke, right? You're not gonna kick my ass for thinking this was real? This is really real, Ed?"

"What's my name, Gareth?"

"Master." He answers immediately.

"And it will be until you show your worth." Eddie replies, a demanding tone to his voice.

Gareth struggles with the condom application for a minute, getting harder during as he stares at your pussy instead of focusing on the task at hand. Finally the condom is on to Eddie's standards and he directs you onto the table on all fours.

Eddie unleashes his monster cock again, making Gareth blush, and positions his tip at your pout. You feel the tip of Gareth at your entrance and shiver. Eddie enters you first, pushing into your mouth and to the back of your tongue. Gareth follows suit, entering you carefully.

It doesn't take long before Eddie is setting his usual pace of brutally fucking your face, hair twisted around his fist and other hand resting on your throat to feel himself inside it.

Gareth's thrusts get harder as he stares at the way Eddie's cock slides in and out of your sloppy mouth. Tears run from your eyes, spit from your chin. Eddie reaches down to pull the neck of your top down, freeing your tits.

"Fuck yes," he says, watching them bounce as they continue to fuck you in tandem.

"Look at you," Eddie says, "Doing so well for us."

He could be talking about either one of you at this point.

"That's it, kid," Eddie praises, "Stretch her back out for me."

"Yeah boss, Gareth replies, voice lost between breaths. "Stretch her back out for you."

You whine around Eddie's cock, and clench around Gareth's. Their words helping to keep you turned on.

"I think she likes you, kid." Eddie laughs.

Gareth's thrusts become erratic and not long after his whole body stutters as he spills into the condom. He stays inside of you shaking, gripping your hips hard. Eddie bottoms out in the back of your throat as you struggle to breathe through your nose. He pulls out of your mouth, a gag trailing him, cock covered in a thick layer of your saliva. Gareth pulls out of you, rushing to right himself.

"I promised her a load down the throat," Eddie says. "You couldn't have lasted another minute?" He snaps at Gareth.

Still shaking, Gareth knows no other solution than to bolt from the room. You hear his footfalls down the hall. Eddie laughs and laughs as you clamber down from the hard desk.

"Eddie you scared him half to death!" You exclaim.

"Right now," Eddie says, crowding you, "I couldn't care less."

He picks you up and you both crash onto the dungeon master's throne. He lifts your hips slightly, dropping you onto his hard cock. You cry out for him and as he squeezes you ass cheeks hard, grinding you on him. Your legs are weak and you can barely ride him, so he continues to use you like a toy by switching between fucking up into you hard and rolling your hips on him. Your stomach starts to tighten and your bottom lip quivers as your whimpers grow louder. Finally his tip kisses that wall deep inside you and you blow, gushing onto his lap. You violently milk him, his cum shooting into you in thick ropes. You rest your head on his chest, breathing heavily. He runs his fingers through your hair, caressing your face and coming down from his own high. You stay seated on him for some minutes, hearing the clock softly tick and the sound of the squeaky wheels on the janitor's mop bucket make their way down the hall.

The door opens and you hear the gravely voice of the aged janitor, "Damnit, Munson! What in the sam hell is goin' on in here?"

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #gareth emerson #gareth emerson x reader #gareth emerson x you #rough smut #smut #gareth emerson smut #ffk #wontontrap #wontonamo bae #steddie #steddie smut #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut

[lxvvie]

The MW2 guys taking a shot of Malört? (One of the slogans for Malört is literally, “Malort, tonight's the night you fight your dad!”) it’s absolutely rancid lol 🤢🤮

TF141:

Price's cheeks are red as shit and they remain that way for a good while. The taste is so awful that he doesn't take a shot of anything else for the rest of the night. It was so bad that his hat was sitting sideways, it was trying to run from the taste.

Gaz nearly choked. Vows revenge against Soap for even suggesting it in the first place. Gaz also neglects to mention that he supported said decision as well.

Soap blames Gaz for supporting his decision. Not only is it shite but he feels like shite, too. The one who's laying on his back in bed groaning because what the fuck did he just drink?

Malört made Simon unusually hot for some odd reason. Simon's the one who's sitting on the floor next to his bed, back resting against it, nursing a cigarette while sitting butt-ass naked because he's sweating up a storm and he wants to be rid of the aftertaste. Is contemplating drop-kicking both Gaz and Soap, sweaty balls and all.

Los Vaqueros:

Rudy is busy nursing a palate cleanser because he was pranked into drinking some of it. Is busy plotting his revenge against the fellas.

Alejandro thought Rudy was bullshitting him when said it was horrible until he tried some himself and now he's out of commission for the rest of the night lmao.

Shadow Company:

Graves makes the most disgusted Zoolander-esque face imaginable. It is the stuff of legend. Makes an announcement that whoever recommended Malört will be on bathroom duty for the next month. One of the men managed to get a picture of his face and Graves would be amused if he wasn't too busy dealing with the aftertaste.

KorTac:

Horangi was the first to try it. One of the few times he regrets his YOLO attitude. Is also the one who encourages the others to try it because if he had to drink it, they do, too. Which leads to...

König... downing the entire bottle on his YOLO bullshit. To Horangi's surprise. Smug gremlin cackle ensues until he gags on the aftertaste at which point Horangi gives himself a mental pat on the back. Mission success.

#2queued4u. #cw: alcohol #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare #task force 141 #los vaqueros #captain john price #kortac #shadow company #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mctavish #simon ghost riley #alejandro vargas #rodolfo rudy parra #phillip graves #kim horangi hong jin #könig #konig

[faetima]

I NEED A PART TWO TO SAFETY SCISSORS STATTTT. WHAT ABOUT SCARAS POV??? IS HE DENSE??? I need the reader to DIE and scara finds out and hes zcrushed and RAGH ANGST RAGHHHGHGGRR

𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬 . . .

. . he just keeps losing everything again and again and again.

// tws ; slight cursing,, ; gn reader ; modern & high school au, hanahaki au 

a/n: THANK YOU SM FOR HTIS IDEA OMG ILY

link to safety scissors !!

in his dreams, everyone else was irrelevant.

it was only him and you, you and him.

but now, with you gone, he could only wish his dreams were reality.

if only he wasn’t so fucking dense, if only he saw the way your eyes followed him whenever he was in class or in the halls or in the park or anywhere.

he wished he saw the adoration in your eyes before they were dull, showing the everlasting sign of death.

he wished he saw how your eyes lit up whenever he entered the room before they were blurred and bleary with the cloud of death.

he wished he saw how your eyes followed him like contrails before they were staring blankly at the ceiling of your house.

why did he have to be like this?

if he had just told you his feelings maybe you wouldn’t be dead.

maybe he wouldn’t have lost you.

but maybe life was a losing game for him. he didn’t even have the chance to win—he just lost everything again and again and again until there was nothing left for him.

he lost his mom, his childhood friends, everything.

even you.

—

he remembered that in middle school he had been assigned a project with you.

the moment he heard your name with his, he felt the unusual sensation of butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

at the moment, he had just wished you would disappear so that these fucking feelings would go away.

he regretted thinking that so, so much.

karma just kept eating him up and spitting him back out.

—

you and him had both been working on the project, and one thing had led to another and he had suddenly wound up with your left earbud in his ear.

scaramouche wanted you to hate him, wanted you gone.

so he scrunched up his nose in disgust, trying to act indifferent to you and your feelings.

“you listen to this fucking stuff?” he spat, hoping you couldn’t see through his guise.

you had just stayed silent, switching the song.

scaramouche could almost hear the silent cracking of your heart.

—

acting indifferent wouldn’t help anything.

scaramouche should’ve known from all the mistakes he’d done in the past that indifference would go against him, it would never help him.

but he had still acted uncaring anyways.

you were dead now, and all because he decided to act apathetic in order to hide his own feelings for you.

—

he had a memory that, once, in class, you were both seated together. in what seemed to be a haze of nervousness, your leg bounced up and down as you took shaky breaths, anxious and flustered by the fact he was sitting next to you.

scaramouche didn’t know what to do.

maybe if he acted bitter and shit you would stop liking him and these stupid fucking feelings would go away, right? it had always worked in the past, so it wouldn’t fail him now.

but it did. it faltered and failed him and now he regretted it all.

“can you stop that?” his sharp voice cut through the deafening silence of the classroom like a butter knife. you had glanced up, your eyes meeting his. scaramouche’s hands were clenched into fists, cold and clammy from anxiety.

wait, why the fuck was he nervous?

he took a shaky breath in, hoping this angry guise was working. he tried to scowl at you, watching as your eyes filled with the lightest layer of tears, making your eyes look like glass.

“sorry,” he silently watched as you apologized, immediately dropping your gaze down to the desk. scaramouche felt a soft pang of regret, but decided to ignore it.

“whatever,” he spat out, rolling his eyes. his neck and face were burning and his ears had the lightest tint of pink to them. scaramouche prayed that you didn’t notice how flustered he got.

—

maybe if he had confessed, you wouldn’t be gone now.

but no, he just had to keep losing everything again and again and again and again.

he broke into a coughing fit, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth.

and, as scaramouche lowered his hand, a singular purple petal fluttered onto his palm.

#✦ -- scaramouche #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader #scaramouche #light angst #angst #how to write angst #modern au #hanahaki #hanahaki au #hanahaki disease #high school #shy reader #scaramouche x shy reader #part 2 #modern #high school au #gn reader

[bonny-kookoo]

Yoongi

𝓣𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓮. | Homesick

He's not sure what's worse- the fact that he now knows what's wrong, or the fact that he now knows he can't do anything to help you.

Tags/Warnings: Spin off, Doctor!Yoongi, Cat Hybrid!Reader, mentions of hospitals, Mentions of a coma, major angst, slight fluff?, a lot of hurt, it's your daily dose of angst you masochists

Length: Drabble

There is no taglist for this fic

-> Masterlist

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There's not much Yoongi truly regrets. After all, he's a firm believer that even the bad things in life happen for a reason- it's all somewhat connected. It all leads you to the next step in life.

But if that's the case, then why did the world gift him you, just to have you taken away like this?

He knows it's only a matter of time until your body gives up. It's already happening, after all- your breathing has become less regulated, blood pressure steadily declining. He knows it's unrealistic to think that you'll forever stay in this state. You won't.

Even if you wake up now, you won't be the same. You'll probably have to fight the aftereffects and impact on your brain for months if not years. And that's a very optimistic prognosis.

The more realistic one would be to assume that you'll be a case of permanent full on care. If you ever wake up.

He dreads the question soon to be asked. What does he want to do?

Can he let you go?

In times like these, when being at home makes him homesick to the point of nausea, he tends to visit you, no matter how late. It's how he finds himself at your bedside again, steady tune of your bpm monitor reassuring him that for now, you're still here.

No matter how much of you.

Watching you sleep like this makes it hard to really comprehend that there's not much to do here at all. There's nothing he can do to help you recover because, at the end of the day, the diagnosis is still being studied.

He can't help. He can only hope.

Holding your hand has begun to feel odd now. Like a tune not played quite right, it feels off to just cling to your body like this, when your soul might've very well already left you long ago. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do.." he mumbles to himself, mostly.

Or maybe he's just at the end of his hope.

Maybe he's the one losing this battle now.

"I know I have to let you go, but I don't want to." He shakes his head. "I didn't even get to experience anything with you." He sighs to himself. "Fuck.." the doctor wipes his face with his free hand.

He sighs again, and gets up to leave-

But your fingers cling to his own, holding a lot more tightly than usual. Maybe a simple muscle memory response- nothing to be excited about. He's learned to keep those feelings in check by now, after having been disappointed time and time again.

So he gently pulls your fingers away from his hand.

And you.. whine?

Your bpm is rising a little, machine complaining with a chime about the change in tempo, and he looks at you a bit more focused, noticing the way your breathing doesn't seem as calm as it usually is.

"No, you're not-!" He curses, turning the lights of the room back on. "You're not fucking taking her from me yet-!" He argues to no one.

When your fingers wrap around his wrist where his hand is pushing down on the hospital bed to gain better leverage to look at your monitor.

"No way.." he breathes out, leaning closer to you as he watches the tears run down your cheeks. It's not new that you're able to cry- you've randomly done that in the past, but during post comatose wakefulness, that's not unusual.

But he hopes. He wants to hope.

"Do you want me to stay?" He asks. "Is that it? Come on, you know how it works, give me an answer-" he begs in a whispered tone,

But nothing happens.

"God dammit what am I supposed to do?!" He breaks down, falling back into the chair next to your bed, finally breaking as he cries into the sheets.

And your hand is suddenly moving around again, as if searching for something, before it settles in his hair, on his head.

And as he lifts it to look at you, your eyes are open. But not just open- because that's what they've done for weeks now, time and time again, hurting him with every empty gaze.

Because this time, albeit a bit tearful-

They're not just open.

They're looking at him.

You're looking at him.

You're back.

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#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #hybrid imagine #yoongi imagine #min yoongi imagine #yoongi imagines #bts yoongi imagine #min yoongi imagines #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x oc