#so even if i run too late to be able to in the morning I'll still have them. thank u past me finally being prepared doing something useful | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

catboyieejeno · 3 months

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seventeen reaction ˚୨୧⋆˚

⋆ hhu ver.

oddly specific details/key points of their relationship with you

cw: sfw, 'girl' is only mentioned once in wonwoo's, mentions a period once, and mentions showering together in mingyu's but it's not sexual, npr!

masterlist

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ seungcheol

⋆ seungcheol, who refuses to wake you up when he leaves early for practice/schedules, no matter how much you insist that he should.

when you bring it up, he always promises you that he will next time, and in that moment, he really isn't lying! he fully intends on fulfilling your wishes and waking you up to let you know he'll be heading out; in fact, there's nothing he wants more than to selfishly wake you and bid you a proper goodbye each and every morning he has to leave for work. except on the day of, when his alarm rings at nearly six in the morning, his plans change completely. he spends the better part of an hour talking himself up to the grueling task ahead of him, reminding himself that you literally want him to wake you up.

after he's showered, gotten ready, and is moments away from heading out, seungcheol's eyes land on you, face poking out under all the blankets that you love hogging, cheeks smushed and drool gathering at the corner of your lip. that's when he realizes he doesn't have it in him to disturb your slumber, and he probably never will. ultimately, he breaks his promise, settling instead for leaving a lingering kiss on your cheek and a note or text where he expresses his apology and explains that you deserved the rest. secretly enjoys the earful he gets later, and makes it up to you so sweetly.

⋆ seungcheol, who doesn't let you lift a finger when it's not necessary: "don't worry, i'll take care of it."

it doesn't matter to seungcheol that everyone sees him as responsible and reliable—what really matters to him, is that you see it, too. has no problem with you being independent, but he definitely feels a healthy surge of pride at the prospect of being able to facilitate things for you. having you depend on him, or at the very least having you know you can depend on him for anything, is so important to him. no task is too grueling, and babying you is a partner privilege i can't see him not indulging in. the members definitely call him out for it if it ever happens in front of them, but he could not care less.

if your car needs an oil change, he'll go get it done while you're taking a nap so you don't have to worry about it later. if he notices any laundry piling up throughout the week, he'll do it while you run an errand so that you have one less thing to do when you get home. if you want to redecorate or renovate something, he's invested in your ideas, learning how build complicated furniture and polish floor tiles—anything it takes he'll do, as long as it means he can make you happy. very much an 'acts of service' kind of guy.

⋆ seungcheol, who calls everyday to check-in.

it might seem like it's the bare minimum, but when he works the job that he does and is as busy as he is, knowing that he puts time aside to call you throughout the day is so, so meaningful. especially when he's in a different time zone, staying up late into the night or getting before the sun so that he can wish you a good morning/night. always asks if you've eaten, what you're planning to do that day, etc. and he'll talk to you until he's confident that you don't feel neglected in any way. you're never a second thought to him, and he wants to make sure you feel like he's dedicating time and attention to you, even when he's not physically there to do so.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ wonwoo

⋆ wonwoo, who replaces all of your favorite things the moment they run out.

the level of attention to detail he has for things involving you is both concerning and extremely endearing. he's so attentive to you and remembers all of the things you like and dislike. at the start of your relationship, it was pretty subtle: keeping your favorite drinks and snacks stocked up at his apartment for when you came over or buying a few pairs of shorts or sweats (since you’re obviously wearing his shirts) for when you’d stay the night. keeps them neatly folded in a drawer for you to wear on days need to cover up a bit more, like if Mingyu is around.

eventually, this evolves into restocking your favorite shampoo and conditioner when he's showered at yours and noticed you're out. same goes for your favorite perfume that's running low, and other house-hold things like your detergent or your favorite candle.

always makes sure you're taken care of during outings—brings hair ties and little battery-powered fans for hot days, and on cold winter days, opens his jacket so you can hug his waist and he can wrap it around you, swaying the two of you side to side. presses his cheek against yours to warm it up or kisses the icy tip of your nose.

⋆ wonwoo, whose love language is ambiguous

not only is he receptive to any love language you may have, he is somehow amazing at giving you all five (regardless of which one is your actual favorite).

gift giving? the most thought-through, special gifts for his special girl, as frequent as he deems necessary, too, because you deserve nothing less. quality time? one of his favorite things is sitting with you in a comfortable silence, making occasional jokes and comments to get you to crack a grin. a smile is his favorite look on you. acts of service? waters your plants, cooks for you, cleans or organizes things just how you like them so that you're at your most comfortable, massages your shoulders and feet after long days, runs warm, scented baths—you name it, he does it. physical touch? scoops you into his lap because he's obsessed with how warm you are, and the way your weight feels on him is so, so infatuating. likes leaving light and airy kisses on your cheek or pressing his lips into the crook of your neck. all of his kisses take your breath away, but the ones on your shoulder where he mumbles soft confessions of love are particularly awe-spiring. words of affirmation? don't be fooled by his quietness—he always has something he's eager to say to you, and if it's to pay you a compliment, there is no restriction to his words. loves telling you just how happy you make him, how pretty you are, how you're his safety-net and his soulmate and all of his favorite things put in one.

⋆ wonwoo, who sets aside time for you

you'd never have to ask him to put a book down or hop off a game. the moment you appear, he's putting everything aside to greet you and hold you and ask how you've been. if you're upset or sad, he'll glue himself to your side until you feel better. he seems like the type of person who feels very deeply for the people he cares about, so it's extremely important to him that you are always feeling your best, for his sake and yours. listens so deeply to your concerns and complaints for any matter—whether it's in an argument and you're sharing your views, or after a bad day at work where you ramble and rant about what went wrong.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ mingyu

⋆ mingyu, who is impatient when it comes to you

he's understanding of the fact that the two of you cannot always be together, considering his career and the fact that you're also busy at times; regardless, he has an inability to be away from you for longer than a few hours. it’s endearing, his neediness showing in the form of longing text messages or voice notes where he whines and mumbles, “what are you doing? i miss youuuu,”

his impatience is also evident in person, like how he runs up to the door when he hears your keys jingling because he's that eager to greet you. most of the time if he's cooking or tasting something, you end up tasting the food on his lips because he's never patient enough to wait until he swallows a bite of food before he kisses you.

⋆ mingyu, who is so gentle and thoughtful with you

loves pampering you, whether its by scrubbing your shampoo into your scalp as he sits behind you in a hot bath, or getting up before you to bring you breakfast in bed. most of the time, showering together isn't even sexual; he'll hold you close and mumble soft compliments or talk about his day, wrap you in a towel when you get out, dry your hair for you, apply lotion, whatever your regular routine is— and he truly enjoys every part of it. if he comes home after you've fallen asleep, he'll make sure your phone is plugged in and any alarms you may need are on. finishes any tasks around the house you may have forgotten to do prior to your slumber, like folding clothes you left in the dryer or washing any dishes in the sink.

treats you as if you were made of glass, covering the corners of tables when you walk by or holding your hand while you cross the street. pouts while he takes care of you if you're sick or injured, cooing and bandaging your cuts and scrapes or insisting you take your medicine around the clock and rest (perhaps even excessively... you could have seasonal allergies, and he'll still scold you for wanting to get out of bed).

⋆ mingyu, who dedicates a section of his phone to you

loves candid pictures and loves your face. simple.

there's a hidden photo album on his phone with all the pictures he has of you and with you and there are various playlists dedicated to you, too. any song that reminds him of you is on a playlist with a cheesy name. another playlist consist of songs he knows you like or even thinks you might like. plays these for you on drives where his hand clutches yours and the windows are down.

if you're an individual who gets their period, he has your period tracker on his phone so he can plan accordingly and make sure he's extra sweet to you around that time. has recipes you like/he wants to make for you set aside in a pinterest board or bookmarked on his search page. also keeps your favorite shopping apps with the cart full of things you mentioned so he can get them for you.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ vernon

⋆ vernon, who can't watch shows without you

there's certain tv shows that he completely avoids unless you're there to watch them with him. even if the guys beg him to watch it, he'll refuse and lock himself in his room so there's no chance it might be spoiled. when he's with you though? a few nights of the week, the two of you sit down with snacks and sugary drinks to watch your favorite series together like an old married couple watching their nightly programs.

loves when you you curl up in his lap, both of you wrapped under one blanket with your head resting on his shoulder and his arms circled around you. his gasps and laughs and overall reactions are so loud by your ear but it's adorable and it's such a domestic and comfortable experience. it feels very familiar, and more often than not, both of you prefer this to going out.

⋆ vernon, who rests the best when he's around you

needs his afternoon naps, but specifically, he needs them with you. limbs tangled and light conversation before you drift off that just becomes slurred, pointless babbling. quiet snores and soft breaths take over as the early afternoon hours go by. just the warmth of having you near makes his heart so happy and his rest so fulfilling, especially before practice or after long hours of travelling.

it's a treat to wake up beside him after these catnaps, too. the sleepy features and tousled hair are so very boyfriend, and the way he looks at you when his eyes peek open is so cute.

⋆ vernon, who always tries new things with you

a yes man, any time, all of the time. whether you ask to go on a grocery run at two in the morning or a hike at dawn, he's saying yes. whenever you want to try something new, vernon is your partner in crime and your greatest alliance. he's not only your boyfriend, but your best friend, and it makes everything so fun. always puts a smile on your face, too. he's so goofy and easy going that it's difficult to not feel great around him.

enthusiastic and supportive when you wanna try new hobbies. always asks so many questions so you know he's interested and invested, and will get you any tools or resources you need to excel. trying new foods and restaurants is also high up on the list of things the two of you like to do. he might like keeping a little list of your favorite spots so he can find similar ones to try with you.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

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ereh-emanresu-tresni · 1 year

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#literally why the fuck am i still up at 5:30am I've been tired since like 11:30 i didn't wake up late or anything why can i not sLEEP #bruh i have to start getting up for work in 3 hours and it's one of my 9h days ughhhh #thank god i kinda foresaw this when i went to go get batteries earlier and picked up a couple canned coffees for tomorrow too #so even if i run too late to be able to in the morning I'll still have them. thank u past me finally being prepared doing something useful #anyway time to go desperately try to at least pretend sleep some more ugh

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lovifie · 1 month

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Well, I Wasn't On That Tunnel ❤️

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Please don't look too much into the plot holes. Canon can suck my ass, I'm making my own, xoxo 💋

Pairings: Ghoap x Reader.

Warnings: Poly relationship, mentions of death, mentions of guns, rotating POV (mostly Simon's), Spoilers → amnesia, smut, voyeurism

“THE TUNNEL IT'S COLLAPSING! FOLLOW MAKAROV! I'LL TAKE JOHNNY OUT!”

That was the last thing Ghost heard of you.

It's been months since Johnny and you were declared KIA on that mission.

You weren't even meant to be inside, you were the medic, you were supposed to wait outside.

But the moment Makarov shot Johnny he panicked.

Ghost panicked.

And Simon panicked.

You came in running, panting for the effort of carrying with you the medical bag half your size.

You were the one who told them to run. To go after Makarov and kill him.

You were trying to wake up Johnny, Ghost knew it was a lost cause. He couldn't find the pulse, he was gone.

His Johnny was gone.

The last thing he expected was that he was about to lose you too.

Once outside, he kept looking at the tunnel. Waiting for you to come out, whether it was dragging Johnny's body or alone; it didn't matter. You needed to get out.

But after the tunnel collapsed and you didn't get out, it was Price who finally pushed Ghost away.

He barely remembers getting back to base, doesn't remember what Price kept telling him on the helicopter, doesn't remember skipping meals for days, doesn't remember crying himself to sleep for weeks.

But he remembers your face, he remembers Johnny's face.

Oh, what a coward he was.

Two people that he loved, that found their way under his skin right into his heart. Two people that Simon wanted to grow old next to, two people that made Simon want to wake up every morning.

And he was still not brave enough to confess his feelings to neither of them.

He used to stay awake late at night dreaming about how he would do it. After a long time of debating with himself, figuring out what those feelings inside of him were.

Until he figured out it was love, only to them have to face the complex situation of loving two people at the same time.

But even how complicated of a man Simon Riley was, when it comes to his wants it all turns simpler. If on the menu there are two dishes that he likes? He is getting both, obviously. Why choose?

So if all his lonely and twisted life he had never loved anyone, now he suddenly fell in love with two people. He wasn't going to give up one of them and their love just for society's norms.

Murder is also against society’s norms, and he gets paid for it.

But it was too late now.

Maybe it was for the better.

He could lie to himself, agree that he never confessed because it was not his destiny.

Not because they would have not loved him back.

Not because they would have been scared of him.

Not because they wouldn't have been able to see past his mask.

Not because they would have rather dated each other than him.

It's easier like this.

Simon knows how to mourn a loved one.

What he doesn't know is, how it's possible he got a message from you this morning when you died four months ago.

You are stepping out of the shower, skin warm from the water and baby hairs sticking to your forehead; when someone knocks on the bathroom door.

You furrow your eyebrows at how hard they knock, the whole door shaking with it.

“Calm down, I'm almost finished.” You grumble, pulling the towel around your body.

You drag your feet over the towel on the floor to walk closer, and open the door annoyed by the insistent knocking.

“I told you I am almost finish-” Your words are cut off by the barrel of a gun right on your face.

You don't even have time to panic, because you immediately recognise the stupid skeleton gloves holding the gun.

“Simon?” You whisper,scared that if you talk any louder he will disappear. Price and Gaz are behind him, slowly lowering their gun when they see it's you.

There is a glistering layer over Ghost's eyes that if you didn't known any better you'd think are tears.

You push his gun down, the man still immobile as if you were the ghost; and you jump into his arms, circling his neck with your arms.

“It worked! It finally worked!” You exclaim, tears slowly running down your cheeks. “I have been trying to contact any of you for months, it finally fucking worked!”

Ghost struggles to tell whether you are laughing or crying, a mix of the two. But he can't focus on that, he can only focus on your skin under his gloves.

God, how he hated his gloves right now.

He bites the tip of his finger, pulling the glove off spitting it somewhere. And he snakes his hand under your towel.

He knows is improper, perverted even; but he needs it. He needs to feel your warm skin under his palm, your heart beating loud and fast.

He surrounds your waist, hands big enough to rest on your ribs, right under your chest.

Boom, boom… boom, boom… boom, boom…

He sighs, melting onto you, his tears getting absorbed by the mask on his face. He hugs you tighter, daring you to slip from his fingers again.

He bites his lips, copper taste on his tongue, to prevent himself from sobbing.

But the sobs can be heard, and Ghost it's almost disappointed with himself until he notices your body shaking.

It's you who is crying.

And he panics again, pulling back to look at you and you cup your face, apologizing.

“I'm sorry. I tried my best, I really did.” He can barely understand what you are trying to tell him between sobs. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry.”

He shushes you quickly, he understands; the survivor’s guilt is a special kind of poison. But he understands, he feels it too.

“It's alright, love. You are alright, everything is going to be alright.” He hugs you again, resting your head on his chest. Mourning Johnny will be easier if you are together, he now hates himself for thinking you were dead; for accepting it.

For mourning you for months and now having you on his arms.

Warm and breathing.

He can only imagine what you went through.

You entered the tunnel because he called for you, and then he left you inside with a corpse.

How did you get out?

How did anyone see you get out?

How did you find a house?

How did you survive alone with the guilt?

Are the scars on your shoulder for getting out or were they always there?

Were you trapped under the debris?

For how long?

But that doesn't matter, he knew you were strong. That you were clever. That you were better than him.

He already knew that.

Gaz and Price remain silent, reading in the situation that there is something underlying that they don't know. Letting the two of you, have your moment.

It's only when Gaz hears the almost unnoticeable steps get closer that he moves, turning his body and almost dropping his weapon in the process when he sees him.

“Johnny?” That's all he is able to see.

And that's all that is needed to hear.

Price and Ghost whip their head around like they have been smacked, coming face to face with the man.

There are still bandages on the side of his head, he looks thinner, less muscles, sunken eyes and dark bags. But it's Johnny.

A scarred, angry Johnny.

Holding the pistol on his hands pointing to Ghost's head.

Looking at him as if Simon was his greatest enemy.

“Johnny…” He tries to talk to him, keeping you behind his back by instincts.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP! WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?” Johnny shouts, his hands are shaking.

That explains it, why he look like a madman, why he looks so scared under the rage, why he keeps trying to look under him.

“Johnny, it's alright.” You finally say, moving from behind Ghost, softly pushing his arm back. You walk ahead, still only on the towel; and you walk up to Johnny. You rest your hand on the pistol, pushing it down with ease.

You raise your other hand to the men, the signal of “wait”.

Johnny looks at you with utter confusion, eyes shaking moving around your face for any kind of explanation. His hand move around you, checking for any damage; the hand that doesn't have the gun clinging to the towel.

You cup his face between your hands, the man bending down slightly to make it easier for you to reach; you whisper something to him making him relax almost immediately.

And then you kiss him.

On the cheek, right beside the nose making him close his eyes for a second.

But it feels like a stab on Simon's heart.

He tries to think rationally, you were just calming him down. He knows Johnny is always desperate for physical contact, that's all. Nothing else.

He really tries to think logically, but logically the two of you are dead and buried under a tunnel. Not standing at the end of the hall, kissing and comforting each other.

Something about it, about the possibility there is something more going on between Johnny and you; sends Simon's inner gears spinning.

He sees the virtual space between the two of you, slowly getting in the shape of his body.

You whisper something to Johnny, he nods, touching your forehead with his for a second, before walking back. Looking at Simon with hate on his cerulean blue eyes.

You sigh, watching Johnny move and turn to the three still shell-shocked.

“As far as I can tell…” You whisper, once you are close to them. “He only remembers up to when he was 20, little more, little less.”

“So he doesn't remember anyone?” Price asks after a moment.

You shake your head. “Not that he hasn't asked me about, he asked about some people but I don't know them. He thought I was a nurse when he woke up.” You explain.

“What happened in the tunnel?” Gaz asks, looking behind you to check Johnny is not back. “How did you get out? And him? He was dead.”

You shake your head again. “Not yet. Almost… but not yet. I-”

“Bonnie! You want coffee or tea?!” Johnny's voice makes everyone jump.

“Coffee, please!” You answer without skipping a beat and turn to them. “I'll explain it later, alright? It's not the place nor the time.”

Price nods once. “Get dressed, I'll contact the pilot to let them know we are flying back tonight, right?”

“Roger that.” The three of you reply almost by muscle memory.

“I'll be fast, don't rile him up.” You say, before entering the bedroom closing it behind you.

Ghost feels Price's eyes on him.

Wondering.

Asking.

What's between you and him?

What's between you and Soap?

What's inside his mind?

“Tea is ready.” It all gets interrupted by the amnesiac man calling them to the kitchen.

They walk together, sitting around the table. Gaz and Price find it almost easy to talk to Soap, about how happy they are to see him again, about how they are flying back later, easy chatter.

But Ghost can't.

Not when Soap finally smiles at Price making fun of Gaz's cap and Ghost's breath is knocked out of his chest.

That's his boy.

Breathing and warm.

Just like you.

He knows it's the universe talking, telling him not to fuck it up again.

Still, he feels his heart sink every time Soap looks at him with such a sour look. Offended even. His boy.

That would jump at any opportunity to impress him, to earn his respect, his affection. Now locked like he wanted to stab him on the chest, twisting the knife in the process.

He knows it's because of you, the way the man stared at his hand as you pushed it out of the towel didn't go unnoticed by Simon.

Not the greatest first impression.

Does it count as a first impression if he has known the man for years?

You walk into the kitchen not much later, Johnny's eyes lightening at seeing you; his saviour.

You walk past Ghost, your arm resting on his shoulder as you bend down to slightly knock your head against Soap's.

And that's it, that all Simon's needs. To be involved. He doesn't need to be in the middle of you two, he is fine with being in the sidelines, but he needs to be a part of it.

He knows you are on his side, you remember him unlike Johnny. You can be the bridge to get him to Johnny; to keep Johnny from running. Make a pack with him; keep the two of you close.

A turmoil of emotions keeps spinning inside Ghost's head, all the versions of himself wanting to be right.

The part of him he thinks is unable to love telling him to let the two of you alone, you are better of without him.

The part of him he thinks is unable to be loved telling him to not even try, save himself the rejection.

The part of him that is still unsure of what even are his feelings telling him to not get involved, that it would only confuse the two of you.

But then there is also that part of him. The part called Simon Riley; that still holds onto the chance of loving and getting love.

And he looks at you and Soap, the way Soap looks up to you. The way he used to look at him.

“Let's pack our things up, Johnny.” You say, patting Soap’s back. “The sooner we are back home, the better.”

And you smile at Soap so kindly, so wide, so warm.

He understands how you managed to calm Soap down. Waking up from what he assumed must be something close to a coma after getting shot on the head, not remembering anything, in pain, alone. And then you appeared, so soft and so kind.

He wouldn't blame Johnny if he was already in love with you, with you being literally the only thing he knows since waking up.

Johnny stands up, walking out of the kitchen but looking back to make sure you are walking behind him.

The two of you disappear down the hall, voices low as you move away.

“I can't believe they are alive…” Gaz comments, sipping his tea.

“Neither do I…” Price answers, sipping his. “Bloody necromancer…”

And you are, Simon was also dead before meeting you.

“I'm gonna check on them.” He says, downing the beverage on a gulp that burns down his throat.

He stands up, Price and Gaz look at him as he does. They are going to talk about him as soon as he gets out, but he doesn't care.

He has made his choice.

He loves you.

He loves Johnny.

He walks down the hall, seeing the door ajar.

His hand reaches the knob when he hears it.

His blood running cold.

“Johnny…”

It's your sweet voice moaning the name.

The unmistakable sounds of kisses inside the room.

“I don't like how he looks at you, bonnie.” The man whispers, his breathing unstable.

“He's your best friend, Joh-Ah!” You moan, interrupting yourself as you speak.

“I don't care! I don't know him. You are mine!” The man grunts, the sound of skin slapping slowly becoming more and more clear.

“Johnny…” You moan again, and Simon is sure that he can hear your cunt squelch around Johnny's length.

He opens the door the slightest bit, just enough for his eyes to see the way Johnny has you bent over on the bed.

With you laying on your stomach on the bed, legs hanging from him without strength to push yourself up. Johnny behind you, a foot on the ground and the other on the mattress as leverage to keep sinking into your weeping cunt.

Neither of you bothered to take off the clothes, simply lowered the pants enough for Johnny to get inside of you. Your pants pooling on your ankles, legs limp with the rhythm Johnny has settled.

Simon wishes he could see your face, pleasure painted on your expressions with your face buried on the mattress. Johnny keeps your hands on your back, keeping you pressed against the bed. But the only thing he can see is Johnny's back.

So he sees perfectly fine when the man turns his torso around, still thrusting into you, and looks at Simon.

He looks straight into Simon's eyes, who panic just for a second for getting caught peeking into their room, into them together.

But the Johnny smiles, not the adoration-filled smile he used to gift Simon with. Instead, is the smile filled with pride that he only kept for after winning a match or catching an enemy.

Johnny raises his hand to show him his middle finger.

As he mouths “Fuck you.”

And Simon wants to laugh.

Johnny wants to play?

Then they'll play.

Game's on.

@waiting-so-long

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hoasvuon · 4 months

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(12:31 AM)

jeonghan never used to understand why anyone would want to leave the house after 11 pm. after all, his days were so long and all he wanted to do after work was lay down, drown himself under a pile of blankets, and go straight to bed.

plus, eating so late at night meant his body would have to spend even more time to digest the food late at night, and he would have to wake up bloated and still half full. which meant that often times, he would skip dinner, opting simply to crawl into his bed and rot away until the next day. i'll just deal with it tomorrow by eating extra well at breakfast and lunch, he'd always tell himself.

that is, before he met you.

now his nights were filled of random adventures, running with you to the local convenience store to grab kimbap and ice cream, or to the stand down the street that sold udon noodles at nearly all hours (hannie try some it's so good!).

and tonight was one of those lucky nights. around 12 am, jeonghan woke up to you softly tugging on his sleeve. still half asleep, he simply pulled you in closer and tucked your head into his chest before kissing the top of your head.

"what's wrong baby", he mumured, lips still planted on your head.

"hannie ... on a scale of 1 to 10 ... how mad would you be if i told you i wanted kbbq" you whispered.

finally opening his eyes, he saw you staring up at him, eyes wide with a small, hopeful smile on your face.

"negative 1, you know i'm always down for whatever you want" he replied.

you shot up in bed, clapping your hands quietly. "oh i'm so excited! i was worried you'd be mad, or worse, not want to go! ok let me grab my hoodie and we can go, ok?" you said hurriedly.

jeonghan looked at you from the bed as you flurried around the room to find a hoodie to take, smiling fondly. after all, he could never get mad at you for anything, especially not for your random late night food cravings.

tonight you wanted korean barbecue. that meant he could sit flush next to you, blaming his clinginess on the fact that it was so late and he was still sleepy. you'd definitely feed him, feeling guilty for dragging him out of bed. and then he could leave soft kisses on your cheeks as 'thank you's when you remembered to order some fried rice at the end, his favorite.

and no matter how many times you would apologize as you walked back home, clock striking nearly two or three in the morning, all he could see is your face, lit up in front of him and he'd tell himself he would do it all over again just to see you smile. especially when that meant he was able to see you in his hoodie (you always seemed to "not be able" to find yours in time to leave), head burrowed into his side as pulled the covers over the both of you, eyes twinkling at him, murmuring soft praises that he 'finally ate well for once'. plus, in the middle of the night, it meant that he could hold you extra. tight against his body, excusing it to the fact that his body hadn't yet adjusted from the cold temperature outside.

"i love you" you'd say softly, before falling asleep.

i love you too

#svt drabble #svt imagines #svt scenarios #svt x reader #svt #seventeen soft hours #seventeen kpop #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan svt #svt jeonghan

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futureman · 8 months

Text

body language

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel shows up at your place in the middle of the night with a camcorder and an idea

warnings: 18+ MDNI, no outbreak, soft-dom!joel, soft!joel, sex tape, established relationship, smut, unprotected piv, size kink, praise kink, overstimulation, fingering, rough sex, mild camera anxiety, moodboard for aesthetics only

word count: 7.4k

“Joel? It’s two o’clock in the morning, you alright?”

He never calls this late. He’s never even up this late. Joel’s a creature of habit—asleep by midnight and up, bright and early, at seven. Yet, it’s still his name lighting up your phone and illuminating the pitch black of your bedroom, waking you out of a near-dead sleep.

It takes him a moment to reply and, for a second, you think maybe he’s been out drinking with his contractor buddies. But that’s not like him, especially on a weeknight.

When his voice finally filters through the speaker, he sounds…off. His deep drawl is lower than usual, thick with something syrupy and heady that you’d probably be able to place if you weren’t teetering on the cusp of consciousness.

“Be better if I was there with ya.”

Oh.

Now, you’re awake. The barely concealed intention in his tone and words is unmistakable, and now you know exactly why he’s calling you at two in the morning on a weeknight. Because he hasn’t seen you in weeks, and he’s horny.

Heat licks at the base of your spine, and you get it. It's been a while since he’s been in your bed, and you're horny, too. You lean over to retrieve your phone from the nightstand, and your pilling flannel sheets slip down to your bare thighs, exposing your feverish skin to the brisk autumn air drifting in through a cracked window. It feels like the sweetest relief—you usually run hot when you sleep, but it’s nothing like this.

Switching the call off speaker, you unconsciously lean into the small screen as if it were him. A photo of Joel, soaked and covered in sand at the beach last year, flashes up at you and your lips brush against it as you murmur into the mic.

"If you wanted it bad enough, then you would be," you tease, your voice sultry and still heavy with sleep. You settle onto your back, kicking the sheets further down the bed so you can splay your fingers low on your stomach. They dip just slightly under the waistband of your underwear, closer to where you hope you'll need them soon. "So? Tell me how bad you want it."

You've never done the phone sex thing with Joel before, but if that's what he's looking for, then you're more than happy to play along. Every hushed sigh and bit-back groan, you want to hear it all. To let the gentle vibration of it in your ear reverberate through your body, feeding your arousal until it’s humming between your legs.

It’s been way too long. This might hold you over for now, but after tonight, you're going to need the real thing. Your boyfriend, close enough to touch, instead of a crackling, disembodied voice.

But, before you can even begin, your call is abruptly halted by a hard knock at the door. You shoot up, ripping your hand out of your underwear to rest over your racing heart.

No one’s ever at your door at this hour, and the fact that someone is either spells trouble or a mistake. Part of you is relieved that you’re on the phone with Joel in case there’s actual danger out there, but another nagging part really wants to ignore the interruption. You’ve got better things to do.

But you investigate, anyway. Better safe than sorry, right? Then, you can enjoy whatever Joel’s got planned for you to the fullest.

"Jesus, what...hold on, I think there’s someone outside," you whisper harshly into the phone as you slide out of bed, creeping as quietly as you can to the front door. "I'll be right back, I’m gonna go—“

To your surprise, Joel continues on anyway, undeterred by the commotion and the obvious alarm in your voice. But he sounds strange again, almost like he’s echoing.

“Want it real bad."

You grip your phone tighter as you struggle to hear what he's saying, but you’re too distracted by the chaos unfolding around you to focus. He’s acting so out of character. Seriously, what the hell is going on? You have no idea why this night’s been so out of wack, but it's starting to get a little too weird for your liking.

“Uh, say that again?"

The call drops and you're left staring at your home screen, feeling confused as hell. That is, until you hear those same words in that familiar, deep drawl coming from the other side of the door.

There's no way.

You unlock it without bothering to look through the peephole, opening it to find a very disheveled Joel leaning against the doorframe. His face is already so close to yours like he’s been waiting for you to come to him, eagerly. Impatiently.

The scent of his favorite spearmint gum fans over your face, and you subconsciously drag your tongue along your bottom lip in anticipation. His eyes follow the action, captivated by every minute movement you make, and you can tell how much just being in your presence is affecting him. The intensity in his gaze would make you feel nervous if it wasn’t for the obvious want simmering below the surface.

God, why does all of this feel so potent? You’re panting...when did that even start? It’s suddenly hotter than the stifling warmth under your sheets, despite being half-naked in your open doorway, but it feels good. Right. Because he’s breathing as heavily as you are.

There’s no traces of beer or whiskey on his breath. So, he's completely sober, then. Whatever you were hearing in his voice, that wild look in his eyes, completely overtaken by his blown pupils—he’s not drunk on any of that. Only on thoughts of you. Your breath hitches when he speaks again, in person this time.

"Don't think I need to repeat myself, do I?"

Your eyes drop to the intimidating tent in his sweatpants before darting up to meet his.

"No, I believe you," you breathe out.

And, god, do you.

Adrenaline floods your veins as he lurches forward to kiss you, and, finally, you get to taste that dizzying combination of mint and Joel. The coolness of it on your tongue does little to quell the heat spreading from your lips down to where you need him most.

His hands immediately find purchase where yours were just moments before, sliding up your sides under your oversized sleep shirt—his shirt. He cups the soft skin of your breasts, and you moan wantonly into his mouth, suddenly desperate to be bare in front of him.

But he ignores the bunched-up fabric shielding you from his view. He actually seems pleased by the sight of it on your body and the scent of himself still lingering on your skin. You haven't washed it since he left it here, and you can tell it’s stoking something primal in him. Something he's left unchecked since the last time he was with you that threatens to consume him. Shit, you can hear it in his voice.

“Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about ya,” he mumbles against your lips, heavy lines marring his brow as if the thought of not being able to have you for so long physically pained him. “Been up all damn night…haven’t been able to think about anything else all goddamn night.”

He thumbs over a nipple while he tweaks the other, hard enough to startle a gasp out of you, and, oh, he likes that. The blunt outline of his hardening cock is insistent against your hip, but he holds himself back from grinding into you. Even as his body reacts without his permission, he’s still choosing to prioritize your pleasure first.

“You got no idea, the things m’gonna do to you tonight. Gonna treat you right, pretty girl, give ya everything you deserve.”

Your heart stutters, and you practically preen at his praise. This fucking man. You swallow his words greedily, pressing your lips into his hard enough to bruise, and the kiss descends into desperation and an unexpected need to hear more. You want more of those sweet, filthy words, to see what they really mean when he finally delivers on them. And all you have to do is ask.

“Then, give it to me.”

He parts from you with a lewd smack, a string of saliva hanging between you. You use the brief respite to take him in, your eyes roving over his tousled curls and the flush that’s quickly traveling down his neck and spreading across his chest.

He’s so fucking beautiful, and…and why aren’t your hands on him right now? He’s been standing there for minutes, or hours, you can’t even tell anymore. Yet, when you reach out to touch him, he catches your hand in midair. His grip is gentle yet firm, the side of his mouth quirking down as he raises an eyebrow, and you feel like you’re being scolded.

"Oh, honey. I know you can ask nicer than that,” he mutters, lifting it to his lips and softly kissing your palm.

There's a sense of authority in the way he says it, contradictory to the saccharine nature of his words. You're starting to realize you're not in control—that, tonight, what he says goes—but it feels safe. You know he'll take good care of you.

He gives your breast an encouraging squeeze as his other hand snakes further down to palm your ass, pulling your hips into his so you can feel all of him. This is what you'll get if you're a good girl, he's telling you.

You bite back a whine, gazing up at him through your lashes, wetting your lips before you try again. His way.

"Please."

Your voice quivers around the singular syllable that guarantees you’ll get what you need.

“There's my sweet girl. Just need’ta be reminded sometimes, don’t ya?”

He nods his head slowly, commandingly, while he asks the question, and you mimic him. You can feel yourself slipping, drowning in him and this feeling of security. You can’t help it, and you don’t want to.

He leans in to press his lips against yours again, devouring you in a way that feels less hungry and more exploratory, like he’s mapping you out. Filing away everything that makes your breath hitch and your eyelids flutter. He’s not immune to you, though. That much is obvious.

There's a growing wet patch on the front of his sweatpants, and you belatedly realize he didn’t bother putting on boxers before he left his house. He rubs damply against your stomach, just below your belly button, but he’s still not nearly close enough to where you need him. You don’t even know why his pants are still on. They really shouldn’t be.

Then, that same cool breeze and the delicate sound of crunchy, autumn leaves blowing along the sidewalk reminds you why. The front door is still wide open, leaving you standing in your underwear, and Joel with his hand up your shirt, in full view of anyone passing by. Not that they would at this time of night, but the thought is still a little thrilling. But not enough for Joel to leave it open any longer.

He pushes you further into your apartment, kicking the door shut behind him, and leads you backward to your bedroom. God, you can’t wait to see him—his tanned, sun-weathered skin and sparse smattering of freckles.

There’s too many layers between you and if your body isn’t pressed against his soon, you might actually lose your mind. You’ve never been this desperate for him before, but there’s something about the way he’s acting tonight.

This unfamiliar headspace you’re in…fuck, it feels good. You’re trusting him to make up for those weeks apart and, even more so, to dictate your pleasure in ways that are totally new to your relationship. You’ll do what he tells you, you’ll moan for him, you’ll cum for him. He knows what’s best for you.

Your clothes come off first. Your shirt is pulled up and over your head, and then he bends to tug down your underwear, letting it drop soundlessly to the floor. Next go his shoes, then his socks, leaving a trail of fabric from the living room, all the way to your bed.

It’s so sensual—surprisingly so—even though it’s something you do all the time. But tonight, he’s handling you with such rapt attention. His eyes never leave yours as each article of clothing falls to the plush, blue-patterned carpet beneath your feet.

You’re so naked. Compared to him, still clad in his jacket, t-shirt, and pants, you feel…exposed. Vulnerable. Maybe that’s the point. You approach him carefully, waiting for his permission to touch him, and he smiles softly.

“C’mere, baby. Could use a little help here,” he reassures you, reaching out to take your hand. But instead of letting you undress him, he guides it over the thick bulge in his sweatpants.

His fingers close around yours and, together, you squeeze him. Your eyes shoot up to gauge his reaction, but other than a nearly inaudible sigh and pinched brows, he’s not showing any other signs of being affected at all.

Craving more, you grind the palm of your hand into him, relishing the warmth of his cock as it pulses the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat in your grasp. He hisses out a breath, his hand tensing over yours, and a flash of pride lances through you.

Yes. Gotcha.

But your satisfaction is short-lived. To your disappointment, he tugs your hand away, but he doesn't separate from you completely. Instead, he slides it up past the softness of his stomach to rest on his chest. It rumbles softly under your touch as he speaks, except, they’re not necessarily the words you want to hear.

“No more of that. S’about you right now,” he drops his forehead to yours, fixing you with a stern look. “Later, alright? When I’m fuckin’ ya, you can touch me as much as you want.”

Shit. You clench down hard, suddenly hyperaware of the wetness between your legs and the feeling of devastating emptiness. You want it now, but you still have no idea what his plans are.

If you’re a brat about it, he’ll probably make you wait even longer, and, anyway, that’s not what you want to be tonight. You want to be good for him.

His broad hands spread across your waist as he tilts his head to kiss your cheek, then the underside of your jaw. Without warning, he sucks hard, likely leaving a mark you’ll have to cover up tomorrow before work. You hope he leaves more.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble remorsefully, shivering in his arms as his thumbs begin to rub soothing circles into your skin. “I can wait—I…I’ll be better.”

“S’okay, baby, I know ya will,“ he replies, dragging his lips down to your shoulder. “Just keep goin’. You’re doin’ so good.”

Finally, you push his jacket off his shoulders and it joins the rest of your clothes, hitting the floor with a solid thunk. The noise startles you enough to clear some of that comfortable haze, and you slowly pull back, eyeing him curiously.

That’s…way louder than it should’ve been. It’s his fall coat so it barely weighs a thing, even with his phone and wallet in his pockets.

But he doesn’t seem surprised at all. His face is unreadable except for the hint of a smirk, and he doesn’t look like he’s about to talk anytime soon.

You bend down to pick it up, your eyes still on his, and you were right. It’s heavier than it should be by a long shot, and you’re honestly a little taken aback that you didn’t notice it earlier. But, in all fairness, you weren’t noticing much of anything earlier, save for Joel’s hands and lips on your body.

Reaching into his pocket, your fingers brush against something clunky and metallic. It’s not his phone. There’s too many moving pieces, and it’s at least three times its size.

When the mystery item is finally revealed, your jaw drops. Joel can be a pretty spontaneous guy when he wants to be, but this? You never saw this coming.

In your hand sits a goddamn camcorder. An honest-to-god video camera that was just sitting in his pocket with no discernible reason for being there.

While you wait for him to explain, the gadget begins to feel heavier by the second, just the idea of it burning a hole right through your palm. But you know you don’t need him to. You’re not a child, and, in the back of your mind, you already know exactly why it’s there. This is the reason he came here.

That pretty, hazy brain fog halts briefly, just long enough for you to get some answers. You want to hear him say it.

“You said you’d give me everything I deserve, right? I think I deserve an explanation,” you say, forgoing the pleasantries he asked of you earlier.

You’re fighting not to sound weak, to emulate his authoritative tone, but your heart is pounding and you already sound out of breath. Fucking hell, this man. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on in your life, and he knew this would happen.

Judging by the way his eyes darken and rove over your naked curves, he’s painfully aware of it. You watch dumbfounded as his patience runs out, and he discards his shirt and sweatpants. Now that his secret’s out, he doesn’t want to wait anymore, either.

You bite down hard on your bottom lip, and your hands clench into fists at your sides to keep yourself from reaching out and touching him, but it feels impossible. It’s right there—his cock, leaking and flushed red at the tip from neglect.

It jerks under your heated gaze, and he exhales sharply through his nose, wrapping his hand tightly around the base. He's clearly struggling as much as you are. Then, he moves closer, all but crowding you into the edge of the bed, and you can feel it pulsing against your bare skin.

“Here’s the deal, pretty girl—you’re gonna cum s’many times as I want you to, and this here’s gonna record it all,” he drawls, holding out his hand for the camera. You acquiesce without any more questions. “Waited too damn long to see you like this and that ain’t happenin’ again.”

His other hand cups your cheek to trace your bottom lip with his thumb, and your lips part around an almost imperceptible gasp. To anyone else but him, at least.

“You gonna let me?”

You nod quickly, praying your eyes convey all of the want you’re feeling and none of the nerves.

“Yeah,” you answer, breathlessly. “I’ll let you.”

But he sees right through you. The apprehension in your voice is too apparent, and he clocks it on the spot. His eyes instantly soften. He tugs you into his arms and holds you close, nosing into the hair just above your ear. Relieved, you sag into his familiar embrace.

“If this ain’t okay with you, we stop right here. Alright? We don’t do anythin’ you're not a hundred percent sure you want,” and he sounds attentive and so earnest.

His bare skin feels so warm against yours, and you allow it to remind you of everything he promised you. Of all of the things he’s about to do to you, for you, and the tape that’ll capture it all. For yours and Joel’s eyes only, whenever you need it. And you know you will eventually.

Rubbing your cheek into his chest, you close your eyes and take a minute to let the calming beat of his heart make you feel less nervous. This is an entirely different kind of reminder, one that reassures you that you trust this man with everything you’ve got. You’re sure of your answer.

“I want this, Joel,” you murmur, slowly opening your eyes to meet his, commanding his full attention. “I promise you, I want this so fucking badly.”

That flips the switch. He swaps your positions in the blink of an eye, looping his arm around your middle to drag you up the bed until his back is against the headboard with you between his legs.

“Don't need'ta be shy. You’re beautiful, baby, that’s all it’s gonna see,” he breathes out, his voice thick with affection and want.

He bends you both forward, his chest solid against your back, to set the camcorder onto the sheets, and tosses a few pillows behind it to prop it up. Something intimidating clicks just as Joel tilts the preview screen toward you.

It’s on. Brightly lit and reflecting back a depraved mirror image of you and Joel, naked and panting and needy.

Okay. Okay, here we go. Another click, and then a red light blips next to the lens.

It’s recording.

The light flashes steadily, and you can feel your body tensing with every strobe. Come on, loosen up. It’s just a piece of metal. A very…scary piece of metal that’s watching your every move. Your thighs tremble from a confusing mix of arousal and nerves, and you start to feel embarrassed.

You can see yourself on the little screen, feeling small yet secure in Joel’s arms, but you’re too focused on the camera’s attention on you to relax. As if he can tell you’re about to shrink into yourself, Joel distracts you. You haven’t told him to stop or asked him to turn it off, and he knows you would if this became too much.

"See what I mean?" He smoothes his hands down your thighs, carefully parting your legs. He gives you every chance to close them, but you don’t. "Fuckin' perfect, just like I told ya."

You try harder to see what he sees, what you're praying the camera sees. He's so free with his compliments and praise, you want to believe you deserve them.

"Prettiest pussy I've ever seen," he mutters tightly under his breath, his fingers massaging the tense muscles in your thighs. "From now on, m'gonna get to see this whenever I want. See myself fuckin' you whenever I can't."

Once you catch sight of your glistening heat reflected back at you, you help him spread your legs even further, watching as your cunt visibly clenches in response.

Oh. Oh...look at you.

You get it now, why he wants this on film. You’re captivated by yourself, by the way Joel bites back a groan and his body seizes up as he fights not to rut into you. You’d love to be able to see that again.

But then his fingers finally press deliciously into your clit and any lingering anxiety completely fades away. You barely even register his lips brushing against your ear, checking in before he continues with everything he’s about to put you through.

“Doin’ alright?” he murmurs between damp kisses against your neck. That tranquil haze begins to settle in again as he mouths wetly at your skin, the coarse drag of his beard a familiar comfort.

“Mhm,” you hum before your head lolls back onto his shoulder, and you slip completely. “S'good...feels good.”

“That's my girl,” he breathes tenderly, rewarding you with more pressure, pressing down harder on your clit.

The slick friction is heady and so effective that all you can do is give in as your hips swivel into his touch of their own accord. He's taking such good care of you, attuned to every gasp, the quickening rise and fall of your breasts.

You tilt your head to observe his expression. It's your only indication of what he’s feeling since he’s still refusing to allow himself to react to you physically.

He's breathtaking, looking like a man starved with his parted lips and pitch-black eyes, locked on where his fingers are slipping through the mess he’s making of your pussy. He must feel you watching him because he suddenly smirks, snaking a hand up your body to cup your breast.

Your eyes squeeze shut and you mewl, pretty and perfect for the camera, your hips bucking clear off his lap when he begins to languidly massage the soft curve. You're getting so close already and your entire body quakes with it, your thighs trembling violently against his as he swirls tighter, faster circles into your swollen clit.

“Joel…ngh—Joel, I’m...fuck, m’gonna cum,” you whimper into his neck, grabbing his thighs to anchor yourself. "C-can I? Please."

“I know, baby, I can feel it. C’mon, give it to me,” he rasps, your demand from earlier falling raggedly from his lips. "Show the camera how hard ya cum for me."

Then, he pinches your nipple hard between his thumb and calloused middle finger, and you’re gone. Your orgasm crashes over you in a blissful wave, your stomach tensing intermittently with every gushing pulse of your cunt, and he doesn’t let up. Not until you’ve ridden his hand through your aftershocks, and slump into his chest, completely spent.

“That’s one, pretty girl.”

That’s…one? He’s counting them? You’re struggling to understand, to even focus on what he’s saying, but he doesn’t leave you wondering for long.

"You're gonna give me four, alright?” His fingers shift from your chest to your chin, tilting your head up to face him. The look in his eyes tells you to listen because he means this. “Want ya to cum on my fingers three times before you cum on my cock. Can ya do that for me?"

Christ. Your eyes dart from the attentive device, still recording every move and reaction you make, back to his. Can you? You’re not even sure if that’s possible, and your bottom lip trembles as you start to overthink it.

You’ve never orgasmed that many times in a row, not with him or by yourself, and yet, he sounds so sure that you can. That he can make you. His thumb gently strokes your chin, and you believe him. You will.

"Yes, Joel," you find yourself nodding obediently, and you're thrilled at how pleased he looks.

He leans down to kiss away your worries, swallowing your surprised squeal as his fingers waste no time starting up those insistent swirls on your clit again. Your hips jerk away from his hand, but he only smiles against your lips, his strong arms holding you in place.

It’s way too much, nearly overwhelming you, and you whimper into his mouth at the oversensitivity. Your floor muscles clench painfully as you continue to try and recover from your last one, but you don’t stop him. You give into him so easily, letting his adoration and sheer desire fuel you.

“That's it. You can take it, I know ya can,” he encourages, pulling away from your lips to gaze down at you in awe. "Look at my girl...so damn responsive tonight. Listenin' so well."

You can’t help the satisfaction blooming in your chest, gasping in relief as the sensitivity begins to subside into intense pleasure. His eyes drop between your legs as your hips start to chase his touch, and yours quickly follow.

“Shit,” he mutters, his voice tighter than it has been all night. “You get so fuckin’ wet when ya cum. Makin' the prettiest mess.”

His middle and ring fingers abruptly slip from rubbing merciless circles into your clit down to your entrance, plunging inside you, and god, it's exactly what you need. His fingertips drag against your sensitive walls, stroking something repeatedly that steals your breath away, and your pussy flutters around him.

He mimics the soft sound but it trails off, dropping to something deeper that rumbles in his chest, and his slow, purposeful thrusts turn aggressive. His fingers hook inside you, and your eyes roll back, lips parting around desperate, choked-out words he'll watch back and probably cum to.

"...t-there, there. Please...don't stop—," you keen, your voice catching every time your hips buck to meet his hand. "—n-need more. Please, Joel, I...c-can you...?"

That gorgeous smirk returns, his face alight with pride. He's so proud of you.

“Beautiful and polite, Christ. Whatever you want,” his fingers don’t let up, and he looks mesmerized by how slick and easy he slides in and out. “Keep askin’ nice like that and I’ll give ya anything.”

Adding a third finger, he starts to fuck into you in earnest, ramming against something deep inside you as his palm slaps repeatedly against your clit. You see stars. Your vision begins to blur, and you’re positive you’re moaning louder than you should be this late at night, but you can’t focus on anything else but the wet squelching of your pussy around him.

You should probably feel at least a little ashamed, but your warming cheeks have nothing to do with the noise and everything to do with the wrecked, stuttered moans in your ear, and Joel’s cock rutting into your ass in time with his fingers.

He's finally losing his composure. That careful self-restraint he's tried so hard to maintain, slowly but surely being dismantled. He clearly doesn’t care anymore, and he wants you to know it.

"Feel that? S'what ya do to me,” he grits through his teeth, his head dropping to your shoulder to watch as he smears precum messily across your skin. You unintentionally squeeze his fingers at his words, and he groans raggedly. "Fuckin'...tight—Christ, ya just keep gettin' tighter. Think m’gonna fit?"

You shake your head furiously, already feeling too full around his fingers, but your body betrays you, grinding down onto his cock before you can stop yourself. He exhales sharply at your reaction, bucking into you a little harder than he means to, and for a moment, you think maybe he likes the idea that he's too big for you. That your pussy's just too tight to take him right now.

That little red light still gleaming next to the ever-observant mechanical eye in front of you would probably love to witness that. A filthy, intimate image of you caught between intense pleasure and pain, forever preserved.

"No?” he murmurs, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “S'okay, baby, we'll make it fit. Don't'chu worry."

It hits you like a freight train, your second orgasm catching both of you by surprise and knocking the wind completely out of you. He wrenches his fingers out of your heat so he can wrap his arms tightly around you, keeping you from knocking over the camera as you writhe in his lap. It's overwhelming, somehow even more intense than the first, but the sensitivity sets in quicker.

Your nails dig sharply into his arms, and he hisses in a breath behind you. You're scared you might be hurting him, but you're having trouble controlling your limbs as immense amounts of dopamine flood your system, so you scrabble against the damp sheets instead.

Fuck, you can’t. It's too much. He’s still moving beneath you, the slide of his cock against your skin made easier by the slick dripping between your legs, and you’re not even sure he realizes he’s doing it. You want to do this for him so badly, but you're not sure how much more you can take.

One more. You can take one more. Then, he's yours.

Sensing your discomfort, he holds you through it, lets you ride it out until you’re whimpering softly in his arms. But all he offers is a brief, sweet moment of respite before his fingers return to your cunt. He mindfully avoids your clit as he slowly sinks two fingers back inside you, and, now, even you can feel how tight you are. Each one of his knuckles catches on your entrance and rubs you purposefully, if not a little painfully.

"How's that feel, baby? Talk to me.”

It aches. It’s so much. It’s not enough. The warring sensations between your legs intensify the deeper he plunges into you, but, this time, the sensitivity doesn’t ebb. Instead, it amplifies everything. You can feel him keenly, sweat and oppressive heat pooling everywhere your bodies connect, and you melt into it. Into him.

"S'good...keep—," you accidentally clench around him, and your breath hitches at the dull throb that wracks your lower half, "—k-keep going. Want more.”

“Fuck. Such a good girl...so fuckin' good,” he breathes heavily behind you, grunting his pleasure into your shoulder every time your hips try to escape insistent strokes. It's not just the steady grind of his cock between your ass cheeks that’s getting him off. You can see the playful sparkle in his eyes on the screen, regardless of how small his image is. He's enjoying the chase.

You think he could even cum like this, playing this dangerous game with you. It's then that you realize you like it, too. You both know how close you are to earning your reward, so agonizingly near, you can taste it. And he can feel you around his fingers, tensing and relaxing, beginning to adapt to the unbearable soreness as your orgasm quickly approaches.

"Almost there, baby. S'a lot, I know, but you're takin' it so well,” he groans encouragingly. You can hear the subtle anticipation in his voice. He’s a wreck behind you, all but fucking into your skin as he adds a third finger and increases his speed. You let out a pained moan together at the resistance. "Hurts, huh? Lemme make it better, pretty girl. Tell me what ya need."

“M-my clit, please…please,” you beg him. Politely, nicely, kindly, whatever he wants. It’s still swollen and rubbed raw despite how wet you’ve been all night, but, fuck, you need it. Just a gentle touch would be enough to send you over the edge. That’s all it’ll take.

And that’s exactly what he gives you. Three barely-there swirls with his thumb, and you’re screaming, cumming around him so hard, you’re almost worried you’ll break his fingers. Your spasming floor muscles are unforgiving, convulsing violently as you cream into the palm of his hand, but this time he doesn’t wait for it to subside.

The internal pressure suddenly disappears and everything tilts on its axis. You’re being shifted, lifted higher by two strong arms encircling your waist, and something big—god, it feels huge—nudges at your abused hole. Joel’s speaking, but whatever he’s saying is too difficult to make out over the blood roaring in your ears. It sounds urgent. Impatient. He sounds needy.

He lowers you just a hair, and the stretch around his tip feels impossible. You were right. He's not going to fit, and the thought makes you want to cry. He has to. You need him to.

"...baby...baby," his voice finally cuts through the fog. He's shaking, trembling like a leaf all around you, but refusing to move until you can hear him. You realize he's been asking you a question, and he needs your answer now. "Need'ta be inside you. Christ, I—m'not gonna be gentle. I...can't, I can't anymore. Gonna fuck you hard, s'that okay? Can ya take me?"

He gives you a little more, a preview of what's to come before you make your decision, and it fucking hurts. It's also the most incredible thing you've ever felt.

More. You said you wanted more, and you meant it. You nod frantically, whining your assent, but it's not enough. He needs you to say it.

"Need'ya to use your words, baby. Yes?"

"Yes," you choke out around a sob, wriggling in his arms to get him to move faster. He exhales sharply through his nose, the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat pulsing in his chest and cock.

"Yes."

It's the last warning you get before he drives into you in a single, earth-shattering thrust, burying himself to the hilt. It feels like he's splitting you in half, tearing you right down the middle, and replacing every part of you with Joel, Joel, Joel.

And he doesn't stop there, or give either of you time to adjust. He pistons into you, a wet thock-thock-thock of drenched skin against skin, and you accept it gratefully. You're delirious with the feeling of him stretching you past your limit. So full, you're so fucking full of him. It's the only thing grounding you to the present, your unyielding walls fighting to mold around him.

After hours of giving, he finally takes. He's all but snarling into your ear like a starved apex predator feasting on his prey, biting and sucking and bruising every inch of skin he can reach. Yet, he's still so full of praise for his girl.

"Look at us, baby. Y'see that?" he growls, just loud enough for the mic to pick up the wrecked reverence in his voice. He takes your hand and guides it down until both sets of fingers are wrapped around where he's breaching your swollen cunt. You cry out at the thickness of him, the unimaginable sight of you stretched around him, gripping him. "Takin' me so well. Knew you could. Goddamn perfect woman, s'like you were made for it."

You're starting to believe it. That you were shaped in his image, created just for him. You want to return his affection, even a fraction of the praise he's given you this entire night, but you're past the capacity for speech.

The tension in your chest is making it hard to breathe, and every attempted reply is forced from your body as an incoherent string of stuttered moans and broken sobs. Nearly every other thrust punches your cervix, and you can already feel that telltale heat flooding between your legs.

You can't tell him all of the things you want to. So, you show him, instead. Your entire body goes lax in his arms except your hips and hands, and you rock forward on every upstroke, caressing his inner thighs with your thumbs.

His lips press against the underside of your jaw as he whines desperately into your skin, subtle groans rising in frequency and volume the longer you continue your ministrations. You can feel his stomach tensing behind you, and his grip tightens like he's either trying to stave off his release or anchor himself for when he inevitably erupts. He's so fucking close to the edge, now, you can tell.

He can, too. But he needs you to get there first.

Your hips are already starting to buck into his, and he takes that as the go-ahead to give you more. A sign that your body can handle everything he has left. His arms unravel from around you, and he slows his pace to a deep, heady grind that sets your body ablaze.

He snakes one hand up your stomach to cup a breast while the other drops to rub sloppy circles into your overstimulated bundle of nerves, and you cry out at the sudden onslaught of sensations. Your eyes dart to the camcorder as it builds and builds, in your chest, at the base of your spine, and against that spot deep inside you that has you fluttering around him. You promised one more, and you're ready to put on a show it'll never forget.

But that's the opposite of what Joel wants. He delivers a sharp slap to your clit to get your attention.

"Look at me, baby. Don't look at the camera," he grits out. You whine, turning your head to face him, your expression pleading with him to keep doing that. He acquiesces with a smirk, slapping it again, purposefully and repeatedly to punctuate his demands.

"Ya look at me when you cum, alright?"

Slap.

"Nowhere."

Slap.

"Else."

His hand collides with your cunt a little harder, and even he moans at the contact.

Slap.

"Ya don't close your eyes, ya don't look away. Wanna see those pretty eyes when I fill you up."

He releases your breast to grip your chin between his thumb and index finger, holding you in place.

"C'mon, pretty girl. Cum for me."

Then, his assault really begins. He jerks into motion, his hips slamming into yours frantically, matching the sweet, torturous pace of his fingers' rough touch.

Everything goes fuzzy. You feel its steady approach, a surprisingly gentle wave that trickles from where the head of his cock meets your depths, past every sensitive pressure point to where you're gushing onto his coarse curls. But, as it peaks, you barely feel anything at all. A beat of numbness that makes you believe maybe that was all you had left in you.

A moment later, there's euphoria. You're cumming so hard, your vision blacks out, and all you can sense is your bottom half locking down and Joel sobbing into your shoulder while he empties into you, just like he promised.

He fucks you through it, quiet whimpers and murmured praise flowing uncontrollably from his lips. He tells you how tight you are, how your pussy's choking his cock and milking him dry. How good you've been and how perfect you are. He says all of it just for you, but the camera hears it, too.

For a while, he thrusts into you lazily, savoring his sensitivity and sighing through your final aftershocks. Maybe it's punishment for everything he put you through. Or maybe he just likes the syrupy pain of it. Either way, his girth nestled inside you is comforting now that you're both loose-limbed and pleasantly sticky with each other's release.

He lets out a disappointed grunt when he eventually softens and slips out, right around the time your vision returns and the brain fog starts to clear. The flashing red light at the foot of the bed catches your attention again, and you're struck with a sudden idea. One last thing you want him to have on tape.

Sliding haphazardly off his lap, you position yourself on your hands and knees, the camera situated with the perfect view of your core. You peek behind you, shooting a sly smile at the lens before you part your folds, allowing a thick glob of cum to leak out of your swollen cunt and drip down to your clit. Before it can fall to the sheets below, you gather up the mess with your fingers and shove it right back inside you, where it belongs.

Joel groans heavily in response, and his body finally gives out, collapsing against the headboard. You can't help but laugh, exhausted and sated, close to collapsing, yourself. Crawling back on top of him, you wrap your limbs around his neck and waist, and crash your lips messily into his.

As he returns your kiss with sleepy enthusiasm, he tugs you down flush against his chest. His hands slide down your sides to teasingly squeeze your ass, and you pull away with a gasp, intent on teasing him right back, but the bright grin on his face gives you pause.

Now that your head is clear and you're starting to recover, you remember everything that led to this. That, after too many agonizing weeks, you finally got to have him again, in the flesh and in ways you never have before or thought you ever could. And you'll get to relive it over and over, as many times as you need on those lonely nights when he's not there to take care of you.

"I'm glad you came over," you smile softly, unwinding an arm from around his shoulders to brush back his messy curls. "I really missed you."

His grin widens, and he melts into your touch. God, he's...baffling. A total enigma. You wonder how you'll ever reconcile this man with the one on film, but, then, his eyes soften and it becomes clear. Both men love you. Both are Joel.

"Missed you, too, baby. Y'got no idea how much," he says earnestly and with so much tenderness.

"I think I got the picture," you snort affectionately, leaning down to brush your lips against his.

You kiss him again, and your tangling bodies knock over the camera just as the dead battery indicator flashes twice on the screen, then cuts to black.

thanks for reading!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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lesservillain · 2 months

Text

borrowing.

Steve wasn't a pervert.

Sure, he's done some unsavory things in his younger years that he's not proud of. But he's never been the type to take advantage of a woman. He's not like some of his guy friends who look down women's shirts or touched someone without their permission.

Call him a pussy or a feminist, but that shit makes him sick to his stomach.

And yet...

"Fuck your pussy tastes so good."

Steve pants against the crotch of your panties. The fabric hugs his face tight as he breathes in your scent, his nose tenting the cotton fabric. His lips hold the crotch between them as he sucks and licks the damp material until your juices coat his tongue and then some.

His eyes open for a moment, looking out the leg hole to check his surroundings for bystanders. His beemer sits in the far corner of the YMCA facing the back of a gas station. It's not where he had originally parked when he arrived for his work out today. A work out he didn't even get to, all because he bumped into you.

He's noticed you ever since he got the membership with Robin. Their goal was to attend 3 days a week together per Robin's request. Something about wanting not wanting to gain the freshman fifteen when she started her semester.

But school quickly became overwhelming for her and Steve found himself going to the gym by himself.Without Robin to distract him, Steve started paying attention to some of the people at the gym.

It was just a couple passing glances at first, not wanting to be one of those guys who stares at girls while they work out. He couldn't deny you were beautiful though. And when you approached him one day after it was just you and him in the gym, he felt that there was chemistry between the two of you. You laughed at his dumb jokes, engaged him with personal questions...hell you even touched his arm with your hand.

Your friendliness expanded beyond that day, too. If he didn't say hi to you first, you were approaching him to wish him a good workout. You'd even brought him "counter productive" donuts one day because he said he loved the local shop.

It was safe to say Steve had become completely head over heels for you over the last few months. And he totally has plans to ask you out. He really does. But, after all the failed dates he had been on since high school...he was almost afraid to jinx what the two of you had going on.

Today was going to be the day though. Or...it was supposed to be.

He was running late getting to the gym this morning, bad traffic on the commute to drop Robin off to her classes put him an hour behind schedule. So as he pushed through the YMCA doors with haste, silently praying to himself that you'd not left yet, he accidentally ran full speed into a body as they were leaving.

"Woah!"

Steve recognized your voice. It pulls him out of his head, focusing on your frame before him. He's bummed to see you in your work uniform, obviously done with your work out for the day.

"Sorry I didn't mean to almost knock you down," he apologizes, looking you over to make sure you're okay.

"It's okay," you reassure him, your bright smile making his heart ache. "I thought I wasn't going to see you today, so running into me is better than nothing!"

"Ugh, yeah, I really was trying to get here earlier but traffic and--and, life! Ya know?"

You nod sweetly. "Totally!"

"Yeah..." Steve's heart thumped in his chest. He didn't need to suffer through a whole work out routine before asking you out. He could ask you out right now. And if you rejected him, he'd be able to walk away and inevitably cancel his gym membership since he'd never be able to show his face again in this establishment.

Or, you would say yes, and he could walk you to your car so you could give him your number on a napkin you keep in your glove box in case of emergencies.

"Well, I guess I'll see you on Friday," you say after a beat of silence. Steve felt the words on the tip of his tongue. But, when your hand landed on his arm with a squeeze, he froze in place. All he could muster was a weak goodbye before you were pushing out the second set of double doors and walking to your car.

He waited to make sure you got in okay before letting out the breath he had been holding. His head slumped in defeat. What happened to the crown that sat on his head when he was in high school? Was it because he wanted something real with you?

There wasn't much dwelling on the subject as a bundle of pink just a few inches away from his feet caught his eye. Steve's eyebrow quirked, and he crouched down to grab...whatever it was.

The material felt soft but wet in his hands. He cringed a bit until the material unfurled in his hands, revealing to be a pair of pink, skimpy panties. The initial shock had him almost dropping the panties, but a split second closer look had him twitching slightly in his pants.

The underwear was yours. They must have fallen out of your gym bag when he bumped into you.

He knew they were yours because he'd see them peaking out of your work out shorts when you were bending down to tie your shoe. He didn't look on purpose, you'd just happened to have stopped in front of him and he saw them. He told himself it was on purpose when he touched himself that night, but deep down he knew it wasn't.

The door almost came off its hinges with how hard he pulled it open, making a bee line to his car. He slammed the car door shut and locked it, giving a quick look around before he was ducking down just out of view.

He breathed in deeply as he inhaled the scent of your panties, exhaling with a groan as your smell infiltrated his nostrils. It felt like he took a hit from a drug. He could practically taste you on his tongue when he went in for another sniff.

Flipping the underwear so that the crotch was resting between his hands, Steve's mouth watered at the sight of the creamy white that painted the pink fabric. His tongue darted out slightly, eyes darting around again as the nerves set in. This wasn't like Steve, but he blamed the way you drive him crazy on the dirty thoughts that were running through his head.

Just as he was about to act on them, the sight of a person walking out of the building had him hesitating. He placed your panties in his passenger seat and started his car, moving to the back of the building in a far off spot that was less traveled and slamming it into park.

Once the coast was clear, Steve wasted no time bringing his tongue to your underwear and lapping at it messily. He whined as your taste hit his tongue, and suddenly his pants were way too tight on his crotch.

This wasn't like him he thought to himself. Not that he hadn't had a hook up or two out by Lover's Lake. But to do what he was considering in such a public place went against his morals...

Your panties sit between Steve's teeth as he undoes his belt. He has to scoot his seat back or else his hard cock will just bump against the steering wheel. He pumps himself a few times in his hand, squeezing some of his precum out of his tip and using is to lube himself.

Steve sucks in a breath as he starts to fist himself. He holds the panties against his face as he begins to imagine your pussy on his face. His imagination runs wild as he thinks about all the ways he would eat you out, your pussy right in his face waiting for him to run his tongue through.

"Such a pretty pussy," he says to himself.

Without much thinking, he pauses his jerking to take the panties and stretch them out, hooking under his chin and pulling them until they're taught over his face.

With his free hand, he's able to cup his sensitive balls as he jerks himself with more vigor. He doesn't know how long he's at it, too engulfed in his pleasure to care about the passing time. All he can think about is making you cum all over his face and thanking you after.

Steve's hips buck into his hands. He can feel his climax approaching, his hand focusing on his tip as he brings himself to the edge.

Just as he's about to come, Steve pulls your panties off of his face and wraps them about his cock. He does the best he can to aim for the crotch where he has completely saturated it with it with his own saliva, cumming hard into the bunched up fabric.

After a moment of coming down, Steve slumps back into his seat. Guilt begins to wash over him as he looks at the sticky mess he's turned your sweet pink panties into. How could he even face you, let alone ask you out after what he's done?

Steve shoved your underwear into his gym bag. He didn't think he could give them back, even if the thought of you wearing them after he's cum in them made him almost half hard again. He would just throw them away in a dumpster somewhere...or he could wash them and--

thanks for reading.

#steve harrington #perv!steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington smut #steve harrington blurb

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dejwrld · 7 months

Text

— takuma ino misses your adorable little face and your even more adorable moans while he's away for a mission.

( cw ) ⸻ female anatomy describe, her/she pronouns, black coded reader, mutual masturbation, orgasm denial, overstimulation, phone sex, feminine pet names, mentions of cum, mentions of spit, spit usage, told in third pov cause it's through ino's eyes, established relationship (reader and ino are dating), ino hive we up and running, reader is a college student, ino is away for a mission, wc: 2.1k, minors dni ! repost from old account!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀dedicated to the hottest ino simp ever @honeybleed

THE MOONLIGHT SHINED THROUGH THE CREAM-COLORED HOTEL CURTAINS. The sound of the hotel room's air conditioner hummed alongside the nude-colored walls as the only form of light that illuminated the room was from Ino's cell phone. His black shaded hair fell into his face while texting on his cellphone. He immediately updated Kiyotaka Ijichi on the mission, admitting that he'll return to Tokyo tomorrow noon. He couldn't wait to return home.

Specifically, he couldn't wait to go home to his girlfriend who loved complaining about him coming to her home bruised and battered after an eventful mission of fighting curses. His brown-colored eyes traveled the miniature alarm clock on the hotel's nightstand before going back to his phone. "She's probably sleeping," He uttered to himself.

But that didn't stop him from sending the notorious text that always leads to something devious.

You Up?

When he heard the familiar sound of his message going through, he waited to see if she would read it. Which she did immediately. He felt his lips curl into a smile seeing the text bubbles pop up indicating that she was typing. Similar to a dog getting a big fat treat, Ino's face lit up seeing her text message. He hated to admit that the young woman made him go weak on the knees on some days. He hated to admit just how love-sick he was when his stomach would form the most hideous knots thinking about her when he was out putting his life on the line. The bone-chilling feeling of possibly not making it back to her always was a thought Ino was forced to push out of his head countless times. Even when he had gotten a small cut or bruise, he still hated the look of worry that decorated her face when she saw him.

His thoughts were briefly interrupted by the ringing of his phone. Her contact photo of her smiling right back at Ino flashed on the screen. He assumed that she must have missed him just as much as he missed her. When he let the pad of his thumb press the green-colored accept button on his phone screen, his face lit up in the darkness seeing that beautiful smile on her face. Even though her lights were dimmed a bit in her room, he still could see that smile that made him fall for her.

"What are you still doing up so late?" Don't you have class in the morning?" Ino jokingly questioned, his eyebrows knitted together in a playful look of confusion.

"My class isn't until noon, so I'll be okay. I just wanted to make sure my boyfriend is okay since he's out slaying curses and whatnot," She sighed.

"Y/N, I'm good. I'll be back in Tokyo before your noon class ends. Unless..." His voice trails off and Y/N finishes his sentence.

"You're assigned another mission, I understand." Y/N sighed again as Ino watched her sink even further into the pink-colored stuffed animal he won her on their second date. "I just miss you so much." Her voice alludes to a cute whine that causes Ino to smile a little.

"I miss you so much too."

"How much? She questioned. Her eyebrows furrowed together as she waited for an answer to her question.

Ino found himself leaning over to turn on the lap that was on the nightstand so she could get a better look at him other than his ominous shadow in the darkness. He watched as her face lit up now being able to look at his face. From the way, his dark-colored hair fell to partially cover the scar that decorated his forehead to the way that you could clearly tell he was exhausted but was fighting his sleep just to see his pretty girl face.

"I don't want to keep you up. You look so tired," Y/N pointed out.

Once the word tired tumbled off her tongue with worry, Ino let out a yawn. His hands went up to rub at his eyes before speaking, "I'm good. I'm not hanging up until you tell me to."

"Good because I have been thinking about you a lot, if you get the drift," Y/N says.

Ino's eyebrows raised in curiosity. He let his tongue glide across his lips before his mind went to catch Y/N's drift. His cheeks instantly stained a crimson color as he gave his girlfriend a foolish grin. A grin she's seen one too many times. A grin that causes her to playfully push him away when his callous curse-fighting hands would grope at her ass when they're out in public. The same grin he gave her before waltzing his way into the mall dressing room with her.

"You have an early morning probably, I don't want to keep you up," Y/N huffed as Ino noticed that she was leaning against the headboard of her bed now.

"I told you, I'm good," Ino uttered as he looked at her. His eyes darted from her face to her hardened nipples that poked out of the thin white-colored tank top she wore back to her face. "What do you have in mind?" He questioned.

"You know what I have in mind Ino." She whines. She slides down her headboard in a dramatic manner before speaking once again, "I was going to send you some pictures, but I'm needy. I miss your touch and your dick."

Ino chuckled at her statement. His fingers comb through his dark-shaded locks before looking at the hotel nightstand clock. He was sure this would help him fall asleep faster, plus he did miss the sound of soft moans in his ear. "Fuck it." He uttered as he sat up in his bed.

He mimicked the way Y/N was, placing his back on the headboard. "Let's do it," He says gaining the cutest giggle from Y/N.

"Okay, but I went to a store with one of my friends and brought something."

Ino's eyebrows raised at her words. Although he knew what his girlfriend was alluding to—he still couldn't wait to see what she would bring to the steamy FaceTime call. During her absence, Ino's tugging down the pajama pants he wore. The alluring thought of having phone sex already caused his dick to twitch in anticipation. As he held his iPhone, his hand traced alongside his toned abs before palming himself through the fabric of his boxers.

"You're ready Ino?" Y/N questioned. "I'm going to call you off my MacBook, 'kay?"

"Yes," Ino could hear the phone hang up before he could see her calling back. He answered the call with quickness and his eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store when he saw the view.

The only view of his girlfriend's cute pink-colored panties that covered her pussy he's been balls deep in too many times. If Ino look closer, he could see the faint dampness in between her legs that imprinted her panties. He saw the vibrating wand that was a similar color to her panties and chuckled. "Could you hear me okay?" He asked.

"Mhmm," Y/N answered before she tugged off the tank top she was wearing revealing her bare chest.

At that moment, Ino was kicking the thin sheets that covered his lower half. His body instantly grew hot at the sight of his girlfriend. His cock aching to be touched and he wished it was her touching him. His teeth grazed at his lower lip before he spoke once again, "Go ahead and give me a show pretty girl."

He heard her chuckle. "And how do you want me to give you a show, Ino?" She asked.

His eyes looked at the pastel pink wand in her hand on the phone and she could only playfully roll her eyes. However, the curious glint in Ino's eyes caused her panties to be soaked.

The next minutes consisted of Y/N's placing the wand against her bare folds. Her legs quivered feeling the vibration in between her thighs and Ino felt like he was on a cloud despite being miles away from her. He was so enthusiastic to please himself, but first, he had to make sure Y/N felt the same way. He needed her to feel as hot as he was in the hotel room.

"How you're feeling baby?" He asked as he watched her move the wand in a circular motion.

"Much better if you were here," Y/N says through subtle moans.

Ino could see her hands shaking just a bit due to the intoxicating feeling that was placed on her clit. "Just imagine, I am there." He says.

Y/N has never heard Ino's voice leak with so much sex appeal. Perhaps it was the heat of the moment. She let her body relax in her queen-sized bed and her eyes shifted closer. Her grasp on the wand seem to grow tighter as Ino's voice echoed out of her laptop speakers. If she thought hard enough, she could imagine that it was Ino holding the vibrating toy against her clit.

"Just me in between your thighs eating you out just the way you like it," Ino said. "You always tend to run away from me when I'm down there, but I always pull you right back to my face. Or the fact that you always tug at my hair when you're about to cum, thinkin' I don't want you to cum all over fuckin' face."

"Fuck." Y/N breathed out while she could feel her orgasm coming bit by bit.

Ino would sneer at the sight he was seeing and instantly flipped his camera so that Y/N could see the lower half of his body. His hands now tugging down his boxers freeing himself from the growingly tight space. His cock slapped at his stomach and oozed with precum from the thought of his pretty girlfriend. He brought his hand that wasn't holding his phone up to his mouth. Pooling all the saliva he could and spitting it in his hand. His free hand palmed his cock starting from his pink mushroom-shaped tip to his girthy shaft.

Y/N's mind seemed to be doing mental backflips at the sight of Ino's cock. The woman has seen many men dicks in previous relationships, but nothing could beat Ino's. A very persistent grower when it was time to please her. He kept it trimmed and neat, but not exactly clean-shaven. Gosh, she couldn't forget it seemingly having a curve to the left.

"Fuck—Y/N. I missed you so much," Ino moaned out as he was letting his hand guide up and down his cock. He was trying so hard to attempt to mimic the exact type of grip Y/N would have if she was giving him a handjob.

Y/N gasped out Ino's name repeatedly as if it were a scripture. Her mind felt like a bottle of shaken-up soda. Her body was getting dragged closer and closer to the edge. The two of them have shared countless times like this before due to Ino's sorcerer's work, but tonight was a bit different. The pornographic sound of Ino beating his dick and the sound of Y/N's moans was enough for Ino to gain a noise complaint from whoever occupied the hotel room next to him, but he could care less. He needed to watch his girl cum.

"Fuck." Ino uttered as his hand guided up and down the shaft of his cock. "I'm going to cum, let's cum together baby girl."

Y/N couldn't even focus with the way her toes were curling in anticipation to cum another time. Her moans that called out Ino's name as the pastel pink wand was pressed against her clit, "Okay." She moaned out.

In a matter of seconds, Ino was a grunting mess as he could feel his body heat up. The sheer thought of imagining Y/N's hands around his cock caused the sorcerer to go feral. When he felt the thick ropes of cum splatter out, his head fell back in complete bliss. His breathy grunts bounced off the walls as he glanced down at the mess he made. His face drained of its color and the only noticeable color that stained his face was the shade of red from the desirable pleasure he formally was experiencing.

The couple came down from the small moment of being on cloud nine due to them cumming together and the only thing that was heard between the two were the breathless pants.

"When you come back, just come to my place." Y/N would say.

Ino would get out of bed, instantly going to the bathroom to shower (again). He could hear Y/N shuffling around her room, most likely doing the same thing he was about to do. "What about class?"

"I can always get a doctor's note and I would rather you be the one to make me cum and not a vibrator." these were the last words Ino heard from Y/N before he heard the sound indicating that the FaceTime call ended.

"Gosh, I fuckin' love her," Ino uttered to himself.

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #takuma ino x reader #takuma ino smut #anime smut #anime x reader #female reader #x female reader #angelshubnetwork #⊹˳⁺ ♡ 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝒻𝒾𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

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woso-dreamzzz · 5 months

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Magda's Princesse

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: A look back at your birth from Magda's perspective

Magda is already at the airport when she gets the call. She recognises the caller ID instantly and a smile appears on her face as she answers it.

"I'll be there soon," She says," I'm just about to get on the plane."

"You need to call Emma," Is what Pernille answers.

Magda's just about to get her ticket checked. She stops. "What?"

"You need to call Emma," Pernille repeats," And tell her that you'll be sitting the next few games out. You're busy."

Magda, for some reason, is feeling especially stupid because she just can't quite grasp what's being told to her. "But I'm not?"

"You are!" Pernille snaps before she lets out a groan of pain," Because I will be damned if I push your baby out and you run back to England a few days later."

Magda slumps into her seat in shock. "But...You can't be having her now! She's early!"

"By two days." Pernille sounds like she's gritting her teeth. "I'll send you the hospital address. I don't care how you do it but if you miss this, Magda, I will not be happy."

The line is dropped.

Magda is a tight ball of worry the entire flight. She's drunk two glasses of wine to ease her worries before cutting herself off in case she accidentally drinks herself into a coma before getting to the hospital.

She's one of the first off the plane and through border control. It takes half an hour to get her luggage and then another to find a taxi that will get her to the hospital.

Fischer is waiting outside for her, guiding Magda inside without little fanfare.

"She came to visit us at training," Magda's national teammate tells her," And then she went into labour."

"And the baby?"

"Fine so far," Fischer replies," Nothing to report."

Magda bursts into the room and attaches herself to Pernille. "Am I late?"

Pernille gives her a look. "Does it look like you're late?"

No, it certainly doesn't and Magda breathes a sigh of relief. "I think I scared Nilla. I left all my luggage with her."

"She's got spare keys," Pernille replies through deep, calming breaths as she works through another contraction," She can take your stuff to my place."

"Is it bad?" Magda asks sympathetically, letting Pernille squeeze her hand," The pain?"

"I've been told it will get worse," Pernille says," The nurse said I'm only five centimetres dilated. We could be here for a few more hours. Have you called Emma yet?"

Magda shakes her head. No, she hasn't. She was a bit preoccupied with making sure that she didn't miss the birth.

"We have time," Pernille says," Call her now and tell her."

●～●～●～●～

It's early in the morning when you make your appearance.

In solidarity, Magda does not go to sleep even though Pernille tells her to multiple times. She doesn't because if Pernille is suffering then it doesn't stand to reason that Magda gets to relax.

She's glad about it too because you come very early in the morning and if she was sleeping, Magda is ninety percent sure that Pernille wouldn't have been able to wake her up.

But you arrive with a lot of fanfare and even more screaming.

The doctor looks at you before turning around to get your weight from the nurses while Magda mops up Pernille's sweaty forehead and pulls her in for a gentle, loving kiss.

"You did it," She whispers," She's here."

Pernille, still exhausted, manages a smile. "She's here."

"For the mamas," The doctor says in stilted English.

He passes the bundle into Magda's arms.

You're finally quiet, swaddled securely in the baby blanket your parents had picked out for you weeks ago. You're staring up at her, with wide unblinking eyes. Your mouth is open and sucking on the air, rooting for milk already.

There are wisps of hair on your head and Magda gently unwraps you. You whine a little at the loss of warmth but quieten instantly when you are laid on Pernille's bare chest.

She looks down at you with a soft look. Her finger came up to stroke your cheek. You turn your head, lips searching for milk but catching her finger instead.

She coos at you as you suckle on her finger, eyes drooping shut.

Pernille looks up at Magda, who has her camera out and has already taken pictures she knows are going to be framed on the wall of her London home.

"She's here," Pernille says again with a watery smile.

"She is," Magda replies. She joins Pernille on the bed and gently strokes your little wisps of hair. "Look at her. We've done so well. She's so sweet."

"You make beautiful babies," Pernille says with a smile.

Magda laughs. "You can't say that to anyone. I've already gotten annoyed with the teasing about me knocking you up."

"Mm," Pernille laughs too," But you did knock me up. I've got the outcome right here."

Your eyes are open again, blinking to adjust to the light and your new outside surroundings. You suck more heavily on Pernille's finger.

"I think she needs a feed," Magda says.

●～●～●～●～

They're discharged from hospital the next day and Magda hovers incessantly when they take you back to Pernille's apartment.

Your nursery has been set up for weeks now, in anticipation when Magda had last visited and raided the local IKEA, building everything herself.

You're dressed up snugly in a bunny onesie, your feet kicking as your finally placed in your crib - which had been immediately moved into Pernille's room when it became clear that neither she nor Magda wanted to be separated from you.

"Hi, princesse," Magda coos.

You kick your legs again.

"You're so pretty, yes you are."

You're kicking becomes more repetitive as you stick your fist in your mouth.

"Look at those legs go. You're going to be such a good addition to Sweden when you're older."

"You mean Denmark," Pernille rasps. She rubs her eyes, having just taken a quick power nap. "I'm not raising my daughter to wear a Sweden jersey."

Magda rolls her eyes playfully. This conversation had been happening ever since they found out Pernille was pregnant. "We'll see."

Pernille picks you up gently, supporting your head before guiding Magda to the rocking chair, slowly placing you in her arms.

Magda leans down to kiss your head and breathe in your unique newborn smell. She smiles. You stare up at her.

A camera sounds and Magda doesn't even have to look up to know Pernille is grinning.

"That's getting framed," Pernille says," I think I'll put it on my bedside table. So I can remember this moment with you and the princesse."

"We need to give her a name soon," Magda says as Pernille crouches by the rocking chair and pulls the onesie's hood up onto your head, making it look like you have floppy bunny ears. "We can't keep calling her the princesse."

"Mmm." Pernille's finger strokes over your cheek. "I know it wasn't on the list but I like y/n."

"y/n," Magda repeats," Is that your name? Are you a y/n?"

You kick your legs out, catching Magda in the ribs.

"That's a pretty powerful strike, princesse. I think she's giving us her approval."

Pernille's eyes are so full of love that Magda almost bursts into tears. "I think so too. y/n Harder-Eriksson."

"y/n Eriksson-Harder."

"We've got another day before the trip to the embassies. We'll argue about her last name later," Pernille says," What matters right now is princesse has a name now."

"It's a very pretty name."

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #The Big Adventures Universe

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kentopedia · 6 months

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contents. nanami takes care of you after a long day, fluff, very soft, 600ish words

notes. trying to clean out my drafts tbh

the first thing you did when you got home was collapse onto kento's lap.

he'd hardly had time to greet you before you were dropping your bag, crawling over the other cushion to rest your head on his thigh. wordlessly, you curled into a ball, melting into his skin, the dark shadows under your eyes evident.

you'd gotten home later than usual, your projects, work, and errands keeping you busy over the past couple of days. though he saw you every morning, every evening, your time together had been limited recently.

balance had always been difficult for the two of you. kento knew how much you hated overworking yourself, though a part of you couldn't stop it, couldn't dispel the feeling that you were doing something wrong if you stole too many moments for yourself.

the two of you were similar to him in that manner. you did it because you felt like you were supposed to, not because you truly wanted to.

exhaling gently, he placed a warm hand on your head, gently rubbing your temple with his thumb. "everything okay, sweetheart?" he asked quietly, massaging out the tension in your neck, the tightness that you always clasped so tightly in your jaw.

you didn't open your eyes, but you hummed, relaxing into him. "'m fine, kento," you said, your voice so soft in this stillness of the evening. "just tired."

the sky was a deep black outside, the takeout he'd grabbed after work already packed up nicely in the fridge. it was far too late for anyone to be out in the world, and yet, your makeup still smeared on your cheeks, pants wrinkled around your calves.

kento hated seeing you so beaten down, worn out from your long days. a heavy sigh left his lips. "headache?"

"mmhm,” you hummed, tapping a finger against his knee. “how do you always know?”

kento would’ve laughed, had he not felt so concerned for your well being, missing the livelier version of yourself that he cared for so dearly. if anyone knew how you felt, it was him. "you've been working too hard this week."

you smiled, blinking your eyes up at him wearily. his lips were curled down farther than usual, the frown permeating his serious expression. "i'll be okay." you said squeezing his hand. "let me lay down for a few minutes, and then i'll be fine."

kento sighed, placing his warm hand on your forehead as you glanced up at him, hardly able to keep your eyes open. "honey," he said quietly, running his fingers through your hair in a soothing manner. "just go to sleep."

"mm," you hummed, a yawn leaving you a moment later. there was still a long list of things for you to do, and though it was late, you didn't want to leave them for tomorrow. "i've got to do my laundry. and then i have to—"

kento cut you off, letting a heavy hand rest on your head. "it's okay. i'll take care of it."

you blinked up at him tiredly, starting to sit up. "no, no, it's okay, ken. i'm' fine. you're tired too."

"sweetheart," kento kissed you when you were fully seated, not quite on his lap, but leaning over him slightly. "you can barely keep you eyes open." he smiled once more, pushing your back down onto his lap. "i'll take care of it."

though you wanted to protest, you didn't think that you could get your body to move, to even cooperate with you to do the rest of your chores. your exhaustion had seeped into fatigue, and you fell back onto his thighs, slumping over him.

“sorry, kento.” you frowned, a wave of emotion and disappointment in yourself washing over you. but as he threaded his fingers through your hair, you could already feel yourself falling asleep, your eyelids heavy.

he shook his head, a small, breathy laugh leaving him. "don't be sorry. that's what i'm here for. you don't have to take care of it all on your own."

#kento nanami x reader #jjk x reader #nanami fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #kento nanami x you #nanami x reader #jjk x fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #xoxo rylie 💌 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆#beloved kento 💋 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

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whatsk-poppinhomies · 11 months

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Pairing : Banchan x F!Reader & Jisung x F!Reader TW : Bangchans : pregnancy ; morning sickness ; general angst ;. Jisungs : menstrual cycles ; really bad period cramps ; Han being an asshole ;. BOTH : FLUFF AT THE END I SWEAR!! Word Count : Bangchan (2.1k) Han (2.2k) TOTAL : 4.3k Request : This is so heavily requested!! I'm sorry for keeping everyone waiting!! Chan's specific theme was requested so I'm fulfilling that one right now with this! I will do the other members as well, I'll get to them, I promise!!

Bangchan

Nausea was usually something that you were able to overcome quite quickly, you’d just drink a little bit of water and lay down until the feeling subsided. It wasn’t something that would keep you from doing the chores that you promised Chan that you’d do, it definitely would never stop you from making sure dinner was ready for when he came back from the office. Chan worked hard, and although he always told you that you didn’t have to do all that you did while he was gone, you thought that it was the least you could do.

Today in particular was by far the worst day, and your attempt at swallowing back the bile in your throat as you normally would when you’d start getting that queasy feeling in your stomach was proven pointless. It was a miracle that you were even able to make it to the bathroom in time to lean over the toilet, your throat burning from the acids that came up from your empty stomach as you heaved over the seat.

Throwing up was awful, but throwing up literal bile was the worst. Your head was spinning and your stomach felt way too tight from the constant retching, the feeling almost making you throw up again. The taste in your mouth was just as bad, and you pushed yourself up off the floor to drink the water from the faucet out of the palm of your hands. Beads of sweat clung to your forehead and you felt absolutely exhausted just from the physical exertion it took to throw up. A quick nap wouldn’t be bad, you’d wake up before Chan got home and you’d have everything done by the time he got through the door. At least, that’s how you planned on things going this evening.

Of course he didn’t expect everything to be done for him when he came home from work, he didn’t start dating you so that you could be a maid and a chef for him, he genuinely just loved being with you. That didn’t mean that he didn’t appreciate it though, and some nights he’d even look forward to it, especially on nights like tonight. The new song he was working on just didn’t seem to line up right, he couldn’t find any source of motivation, he had been at work for hours but he hadn’t gotten anything done. He was annoyed, he was upset with himself, he was hungry, and he was tired.

“Babe, I’m home.” He called out, kicking his shoes off after walking through the front door, his eyes finally glancing up and looking around when he realized just how quiet it was. Not just that, but the smell of dinner wasn’t wafting through the house… There was no smell at all, which was strange. Your shoes were still in the doorway, perfectly straight right next to his. Maybe it’s just because he was running a little late and you didn’t want to make dinner too early… You must be in the bathroom or something.

He continued in through the house, making his way to the bedroom and slowly opening it. Now, deep down he knew that he shouldn’t be mad, you were his girlfriend, not his servant, but something about the sight of you curled up underneath the blanket, surrounded by toppled over laundry piles… It was infuriating. You really just decided halfway through that you didn’t want to do it and you just… took a nap.

“Must be nice…” He said, just loud enough to stir you from your sleep, your eyes slowly opening before repeatedly blinking to get the sleep out of them. “Look who finally woke up? Did you have a nice nap?” You quickly jolted up, rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands before looking around, your mouth falling open into a small ‘o’ when you saw him standing there. “Was one basket of laundry too much for you? Huh?”

You scanned over the piles of laundry, whispering out a curse before scooting across the bed towards them, trying to refold and situate them as quickly as possible. “I’m sorry, I just wasn’t feeling well. My stomach’s been acting up lately… I don’t know what’s wrong.” You murmured, grabbing out balls of clothes that were still tangled up in the basket. “I’m thinking… Maybe-”

“Maybe it’s because you’re lazy?” He cut you off, and your head whipped up fast to look at him wide eyed. “I mean, good god, who falls asleep while folding one basket of laundry?” His head shook as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know what, just go back to sleep. Clearly you can’t even do the simplest of things.”

“N-No, it’s…” Tears were already stinging at your eyes as you rushed to fold the clothes in front of you. “I just don’t feel good… I don’t know what’s going on… I…” The heavy breathing was causing you to get nauseous again, the feeling of being attacked by him for something that both he and you didn’t even understand. He didn’t even know what was going on, he was never home, and now he was coming down on you.

He yanked the shirt out of your hand, throwing it back into the basket before picking it up off the floor and carrying it to the door. “You think I don’t get sick? I still have to work. You’re just being ridiculous.” He mumbled, dropping the basket on the floor right outside the door. “It’s whatever though, just go do what you do best. I guess I’ll make dinner tonight after working all day too. Fucking fantastic.” He kicked the basket across the hallway before stepping out and slamming the door behind him.

The sound of kitchen utensils being slammed against the counter and the fridge being opened and shut forcefully could be heard throughout the house, the constant loud noises causing you to jump, and you wouldn’t have been able to fall asleep even if you wanted to. You didn’t want to though, you wanted to talk to him because whatever was going on was starting to scare you. You had never been this sick for this long, and you didn’t have any other symptoms, it was just the random bouts of nausea.

Suddenly the smell of ramen was filling the air, and you would usually love the smell of it, but right now it had your stomach turning as every single scent of the different spices filled your nose. “Chan…” You groaned, kicking the blankets off of yourself and heading out of the room. The smell hit you harder now and you covered your mouth and your nose, gagging silently as you moved into the kitchen and turned off the burner much to Chans surprise.

“The hell are you doing?” He muttered, lightly swatting your hand away to turn it back on, and now just the sight of the red broth boiling in the pot had you retching. “What’s your problem?” He grumbled, moving you to the side as he stirred the contents in the pot, and you couldn’t hold it in anymore, leaning over the sink and throwing up, the force behind it sending the bile shooting out of your nose. “Hey! Hey what’s… hey!” He shouted, turning off the burner once more and standing behind you, holding your hair away from your face with one hand as he rubbed your back.

“Fuck…” You sighed, turning on the spicket and washing out your mouth before grabbing a napkin to blow your nose. “I think I’m dying…” You whispered, a shudder running through you as you dropped down to the floor, leaning your forehead against the cold metal of the dishwasher. Your entire face was covered in sweat and you could barely catch your breath, that alone scaring you even more and causing you to breathe even heavier.

“C-Calm down, it’s going to be okay.” Chan said, dropping to his knees in front of you, his hands firmly cupping your cheeks to look at you. “How long have you been sick like this?” He asked frantically, his thumb quickly wiping the tears from your cheeks. Your shoulders shrugged as you mumbled out a soft “a while” in response. “Jesus Christ… okay. We’re going to the hospital.”

You laid on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, hating the fact that you were there but thankful for the lack of IVs. The doctor had taken a couple blood samples and those were the only needles that you had needed for the time being. Now you just wanted to relax, and as tired as you felt, the words that Chan had said earlier had you keeping your eyes open. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were feeling this way? Hmm? You told the doctor it’s been going on for a month and a half almost… How could you not tell me?”

“You’re always at the office… you’re always working…” You muttered, balling up the blanket in your hands. “I don’t like bothering you while you’re working. You’ve got more important things to do than dealing with me.” You sniffled softly, quickly rolling over onto your side to face away from him, tears trickling down from the corner of your eyes.

“What are you talking about? You’re extremely important to me, babe.” He cooed, not even bothering to try to roll you back over to face him, instead scooting the rolling chair around to the other side of the bed so he could see you. “All you have to do is call and I’ll come to you, I love you…”

Your lips pulled together into a thin line as you looked past him. “I should have just laid in bed… went back to sleep and died. It’s what I do best…” He sighed heavily, knowing that those words were only in your head because of what hr had said earlier. He already felt awful about saying them, but now seeing you here like this, he felt even worse.

“I don’t want you to do that… I want you to be here with me forever…” He whispered, reaching out to caress your cheek, his touch feather light against your clammy skin. “I’m sorry I spoke to you that way earlier… But once we find out what’s wrong and when you get better, I’ll make it up to you. Okay? I promise.”

The knock at the door came and the doctor peaked in, a wide smile on her face as she waved to both you and Chan. It was a strange expression considering you literally thought you were on the brink of death, maybe she was just trying to lighten the mood before delivering the news. “So the results came back.” Chan nodded his head, his breaths becoming quicker as he waited for her to continue, clearly impatient. “Congratulations. You’re pregnant.”

You blinked a few times, your mind struggling to process the information that was just given to you. Chan was also shocked into a state of silence as he stared at the doctor who was still smiling just as bright. “A baby… Is making her feel like this?” He questioned, and she simply nodded, walking closer to the bed and pulling a sheet of paper off the clipboard she was carrying, the words morning sickness printed in bold letters across the top and underneath a lengthy article about it. “Well… how… how far along is she? Why is she throwing up so much?”

The doctor giggled lightly as she slipped the clipboard under her arm. “She’s about 4 months right now. Morning sickness can come at any time and it can be just nausea, or it can be actually getting ill. It depends on the person. I’d recommend setting up an appointment with your OBGYN as soon as possible though, just to get you in the system.” She nodded her head, backing up towards the door. “Congratulations again. Whenever you’re ready, you can head on out and sign the release forms at the front desk.”

Once she was gone, Chan swiveled the chair back in your direction, still slack jawed at the unexpected diagnosis. “Well… You’re not dying, so that’s good…” He said softly, and then, as if the news had fully processed in his mind, his lips slowly pulled up at the corners, his hand holding onto yours as his thumb brushed along your knuckles. “I know this is unexpected… But I know we can do this… I love you, I know already that I want to have a family with you… and there’s nothing wrong with starting a little bit early…” He chuckled softly, standing up and helping you to your feet. “We’re going to be fine. Let’s get home and relax though, take a nap, I think you’ve earned one.” going to be right here with you the whole time.”

Jisung

“Pookie butt!!” Jisung called from the living room while you were in the bathroom, waiting for you to come out before he continued. He was standing in the doorway, pulling on his shoes, waiting for you to come out to say goodbye to him. Once you emerged from the hallway and ran over to him, his arms were immediately around your hips, his face nuzzling into your neck. “I’m gonna be sleeping at the dorms tonight, I’ll be working late and I know you hate when I come in at weird hours, you get all panicky and scared.”

“I do not!” You retorted, pushing back against his chest lightly as you looked up at him, but the smile he was wearing never failed to soften you up immediately. His laughter had you giggling along with him, burying your face in his chest as his hands lightly squeezed your sides.

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t come at me swinging a baseball bat one night because I came in at 3 in the morning. You almost killed me, pookie poo.” He teased, and you couldn’t even deny it because it was the truth, and while you had apologized profusely for it for an entire month, now you were able to laugh about it with him. “You gonna be okay though? You gonna be able to sleep without the best boyfriend in the world laying beside you? Hmm? Can you do that? Do you need me to come home tonight?”

“I think I’ll manage.” You said between little fits of laughter, grabbing his jacket from off the hook and handing it to him before pressing a quick kiss to his lips, the one thing that would certainly keep him from teasing you for at least the next 30 seconds. “What time do you think you’ll be back home though? I’m gonna run to the grocery store and get some of your favorite snacks, nothing but the best for my hard working man.”

His cheeks flushed a light shade of pink at your words, and he quickly kissed you again to try to distract you from noticing it. “This is why you’re the best girlfriend, best pookie poo, my one and only schmookem boops.” He nuzzled his nose against yours, clearly procrastinating, he hated having to leave you, especially if it was over night. “I’ll try to be back by the evening. We can eat some ramen and watch movies, hmm?” You nodded your head in agreement as you opened the door for him, giving him one last kiss before saying goodbye.

That night you had started your period, and you had fallen asleep with your fingers crossed that the cramps wouldn’t be as bad as they usually were when you woke up. Of course, you weren’t that lucky, and when you did wake up in the morning, it was like your cramps were your personal alarm clock. You could barely even roll over to get out of the bed, and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to walk, let alone walk through the grocery store.

You hated getting your period, it was a pain in the ass in every single way, shape, and form. It had completely slipped your mind that you were due for it, and you didn’t have any pain medication to even slightly reduce the pain from your cramps. You were practically bed ridden, curled up in the fetal position under the blankets, your breaths labored as you tried to get through each one that came so frequently that you weren’t even able to get a break.

Just the simple task of getting up to get a drink of water left you doubled over in the middle of the kitchen, eyes squeezed shut as you tried to breathe your way through it just to get to the couch. Tears pricked your eyes as every minute your stomach would tighten up and your back would ache and you’d try your best to maneuver into a more comfortable position, but it seemed that there was no way that you could lay to rid yourself of the pain.

You had tried to call Jisung, but his phone went to voicemail each time, clearly busy with work and you didn’t want to keep bothering him. You hoped that at some point he’d just call you back before he got home and you could tell him what was going on and ask him to bring you some ibuprofen. The only thing you could do at this point was try to sleep through the pain.

When the door unlocked, you slowly opened your eyes, smiling up to Jisung as he walked through the front door, kicking off his shoes and going over to you. “Looks like you’re already ready for movie night. I’ll just get the snacks, you stay comfy.” He made little finger guns as he made his way to the kitchen, the sound of cabinets opening and closing as he searched, and if he had answered the phone he would know what was going on, but you didn’t expect him to be so upset about the lack of snacks either. “Where are they?” He called from the kitchen, and you slowly sat up on the couch, looking over the back of it to see him.

“I didn’t get to go to the store today.” You said, the bright fluorescent bulbs that hung in the kitchen burning your eyes as they glowed behind him, so you quickly laid back down, keeping your eyes shut to try to fight off the headache that threatened to come. “I’m sorry… I just… I’ve been cramping and my head hurts so bad… I couldn’t make it to the store.”

“Really?” He posed the question, and you thought that for a second he would show some sort of concern like he usually would, but instead he came back into the living room, standing over you as you laid curled up in the fetal position on the sofa. “You really didn’t go to the store because of a couple cramps? There’s girl idols that literally do entire dance routines when they have their periods and you couldn’t walk? Boohoo. Come on, get up. Let’s get the snacks.”

He reached out to grab your hand, but you quickly pulled it away, your eyes opening just enough to glare at him. You weren’t used to him being so insensitive, and maybe he had a bad day at work, maybe he couldn’t sleep well last night, but whatever the reason, he had no right to practically insult you for not feeling well. “No. I’m in pain, and if you want to go get your fucking snacks so bad, then go get them… But you can go right back to the fucking dorms when you’re done shopping.” You snapped, pulling the blanket up around your face and closing your eyes.

“Fine!” He retorted loudly, his hands flying up in the air with annoyance as he walked away from you. “But I’m getting really fucking tired of you using your period cramps as a reason to get out of doing literally anything. It isn’t even that bad.” It was like he was trying to piss you off, and it was working really well. He didn’t know shit about the way you were feeling, and for him to assume that you were acting just to get out of going grocery shopping was infuriating.

“Would you just get the fuck out already?!” You shouted, only for your words to be followed by the door slamming shut, your headache only worsened by the sound of it. You hadn’t even gotten your medicine, and now you were alone once again, and the cramps were only getting worse, and now you were in pain and upset.

“Weren’t you literally just back home?” Bangchan questioned when Jisung walked through the front door, and he could only assume that the oldest was talking about the fact that he hadn’t even been gone for more than an hour, and when he had left he had excitedly announced that he was having movie night with you. “Did you get Y/N the medicine she needed? She sounded really bad over the phone…”

Jisung stopped in his tracks on his way to his own room, turning to look back at Chan. “What are you talking about? She called you?” He inquired, slowly walking over to the couch where Chan was sitting. “What did she say?” Obviously he was worried about you, and the only reason he didn’t run back into the house and apologize was because he was embarrassed. He felt like shit for going off on you, and he knew that you’d both need a bit to cool down.

“She called Minho, asked him to bring her some Tylenol or something. She was crying… He felt really bad so he already left.” Chan explained, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Jisung. “What did you do?” He could read Hans face clearly, and while he wasn’t one to be nosy, he did want to make sure that nothing too serious had happened. You made Jisung happier than anyone else ever could, and he didn’t want that to be ruined for his friend over something small.

“M-Minho?” Jisung stammered out the name, his hands running through his hair as he grew even more anxious. “Why would he go? That’s… That’s not his place… H-He can’t do that.” He was becoming frantic as his fingers continued to run across his scalp, becoming tangled in the strands that got knotted. “And she was crying?!”

Bangchan nodded slowly, knowing that nothing he said or did would be able to calm him down now that Jisung was like this. He was practically spiraling and the only thing he could even attempt to do was tell him that it would be okay, although he was sure he wouldn’t believe him. “Look, if you’re so worried, then just go-“ But he didn’t even get the chance to finish the sentence before Jisung was rushing out the door, his shoes barely even on as he hopped on one foot down the hallway to get to the elevator.

Although he knew that Minho meant well by going there to help you, it felt like he had crossed a line that no friend should ever cross. Going over to his house with his girlfriend when he wasn’t there. It was uncalled for, and even if you had called Minho to get you some medicine, Minho should have contacted him first. It shouldn’t matter that he walked out the door on bad terms, at the end of the day you were still his girlfriend.

He rushed through the front door and he didn’t know how to feel, seeing Minho sitting on the couch with you had anger rushing through his veins, but it’s not like the two of you were cuddled up or anything, you were on completely opposite sides of the sofa. “Was waiting for you to come.” Minho teased, turning his head as far as he could to look at Jisung who stood like a statue in the doorway.

He completely ignored the older member, moving to squat down in front of you, his hands grabbing yours tightly as he looked up at you with glassy eyes and dampened cheeks. “Why wouldn’t you call me? Why did you call him? Are you going to leave me? I’m so sorry, baby… I didn’t mean what I said… Don’t leave me…”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him, lifting your intertwined hands to brush the tears from his cheeks. “You were mad… we were mad at each other when you walked out… I didn’t think you’d come rushing back to bring me the medicine. That’s why I called him…” You chewed on your bottom lip as you watched his eyes grow wider, almost like a puppy who was just told they were misbehaving.

“I was a big dummy… I know how bad your cramps get, I was being an ass. I shouldn’t have compared you to anyone because you’re just… you’re amazing and beautiful and there’s no one else in the world like you.” He kissed along your knuckles before brushing his thumb against them, giving you a sad smile. “Will you ever forgive me pookie schmooks?”

A sound of disgust came from Minho as he quickly got up from the couch, his face perfectly expressing how he felt. “You two are the cringiest people I’ve ever seen in my life and I’m leaving. Get well, Y/N. Goodbye weirdo.” He said to both you and Jisung, practically running to the door as if he couldn’t get out of there fast enough. His reaction was just the icebreaker the two of you needed to get over the awkwardness that was felt.

“Did you… Get your snacks?” You asked nervously, keeping your eyes down, wondering if he’d act out again just from the snacks being brought up, but his head shook in response before it was laid against your lap. “Do you want me to go get them? I think the pill is starting to kick in…”

“Mm… no.” He hummed, his smile growing wider as he looked up at you. “I just want to cuddle with you and make sure you feel good and stay feeling good.. We can order in tonight… I just want to stay with you.”

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wososcripts · 4 months

Text

Tell Me of Your Grief

Stina Blackstenius x Reader

Summary: The fourteenth of March brings back some rather difficult memories, and you don't always make the healthiest decisions. Stina intervenes.

Word count: 4.4k

A/N: sorry it's been a while, I've started uni again which means my writing is somewhat slower! With some luck I'll be able to get things up once a week? But that remains to be seen... I promise this is hurt/comfort and not just pain btw.

Warnings ⚠️: discussion of death, self harm behaviors (mild), angst angst angst

------------------------------------

You woke up that morning to a text from Jonas saying you didn’t have to come to training.

It felt weak to admit it, but part of you was relieved. You knew Katie must’ve talked to him, which was mortifying if you let yourself think about it too much, but she knew you needed this day to yourself.

It was the anniversary of your best friend’s passing—five years in the making. You hadn’t told many of your teammates what happened, or why you became so withdrawn and somber the week around the 14th of March. It was too difficult to explain. All of the dramatics that surrounded the event, the pain, what you had done wrong, what she had too, it was all still too delicate for eyes you didn’t completely trust.

You hadn’t even told your girlfriend Stina yet. You’d meant to, really, you had, but the days slipped by and there never seemed like a good time to do it. You knew it would ruin any good mood you were in, and honestly you enjoyed having Stina as your respite when the rest of the world seemed to be knocking against your skull. But it felt wrong that she didn’t know. It felt as though you were hiding something from her, even if it wasn’t intentional.

“Hi baby, I’m not feeling well today so I won’t be at practice. Don’t worry your head when I’m not there. It’s nothing too serious, though, so I’ll be back tomorrow.” You spoke into your phone, recording a voice note to send to her so she wouldn’t be left in the dark about where you were.

Stina was a worrier, something you yourself could understand, so you always made the effort to let her know if you were running late or not going to something. Otherwise you’d inevitably get a call with her anxious voice on the other line.

It was early, too early for even Stina to be up. The sun had barely begun cresting over the horizon, casting a slight glow to everything. You wanted to go back to sleep, particularly since you hadn't slept all that well to begin with. Your back hurt from being tensed all night as you were plagued with anxious dreams. On your palms were the remnants of nail indentations—some of them bloody from how hard you had been pressing.

You turned on a podcast and closed your eyes, hoping the sound of human voices would lull you to sleep. It must've worked for a little while, because the next time you opened your eyes it was truly morning, and the podcast had switched to another episode.

The dreams had continued, unsurprisingly considering your waking mental state, and the extra hour of sleep you might be able to get if you closed your eyes wasn't worth it. So you got out of bed, throwing on a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt to go for a run.

You weren't typically a runner—in fact you were practically ethically against doing it as a hobby—but it was useful for clearing your head. And with no training today, it would feel good to get out for at least a little while. So you blasted your music and took off into the streets of London, completely lost in your own world. Nobody spoke to you, nobody looked at you.

By the time you had finished, you were sweaty, red-faced, and exhausted. The endorphins began to flood your system as you stripped and started the shower. You turned it almost as high as it could go, hoping for the burn against your skin. You hissed, stepping under the spray, and tears sprung to your eyes. Your skin immediately began to redden. But you didn’t move to lower the heat, instead grabbing your shampoo, gritting your teeth, and bearing it.

—

“Morning, Blackstenius.” Beth called, clapping her on the back soundly as she wandered into the locker room.

Stina expected to find you there, sitting by your locker getting changed into your kit and reading your book as you always did, each morning. But you weren’t there. Your locker hadn’t even been touched. She furrowed her brow, then remembered that you had sent her a message earlier. Maybe you had asked her for a ride and she hadn’t seen? Maybe you were going to be late today? Maybe you had some kind of appointment you’d forgotten about until the last minute—you were notorious for that.

“Morning,” Katie said, sitting down next to Stina on the bench and pulling her kit out of her bag.

“Morning, Katie.” She replied, opening her phone to look at her message.

She brought the phone to her ear, confusion and concern filling her chest as she listened to your voice. Though your words weren’t all that worrying, she could hear in your voice that things weren’t right.

“How’s she doing?” Katie asked, having heard your voice coming from the phone. Her voice was cautious, something unusual for the Irish captain.

“Did you know she wouldn’t be here today?” Stina asked, confused as to why Katie seemed to be clued in to your mood before her. Maybe you had sent her a similar message? She was your best friend, after all. The two of you made a ridiculous pair—her loud and aggressive, you nearly silent and composed—but you’d known each other longer than anyone else on the team, and everyone knew Katie would do practically anything for you.

Katie was quiet, glancing around at the other girls in the room. Now Stina was worried. Even though you had told her not to be, that it wasn’t anything serious, she couldn’t help it now that Katie was acting so strangely.

Once it was just Stina and Katie in the locker room, Katie answered her question.

“Listen, it isn’t my place to tell you anything. You know how private she is…” Katie sighed, rubbing her temples. “I can’t believe she didn’t tell you, probably didn’t want to worry you, the idiot,” she mumbled under her breath to an increasingly concerned Stina.

“Katie.” Stina said firmly, “What the fuck is going on?”

She wasn’t usually one to swear. But where you were concerned, the possibility that you were hurting, and had hidden it from her, that warranted much more than cursing.

“Today is difficult for her, very difficult. That’s all I feel comfortable saying. But if you want to go, Jonas is going to understand.”

Stina’s heart was in her stomach. Images flashed through her mind, a thousand different horrible things this could mean.

"Difficult?" She questioned, "Katie, is she safe? Do I have to be prepared for—"

"It's not like that, she isn't in physical danger."

The answer wasn't reassuring to Stina, who now felt a little ill at the thought of you home alone today. She should be there with you. Someone should be there, if you didn't want her (God, she hoped you wanted her, trusted her). The urge to press more information out of Katie was strong, but Stina held herself back. Katie was right—you needed to tell Stina yourself. Otherwise any insight into your head would be forced entry, a violation of the trust you had both with Katie and with her.

So Stina simply nodded and looked back at her phone to reply to your message.

Okay, I hope you're feeling all right. Can I swing by later and bring you something? I'd love to see you <3

She wanted to give you an option to say no to her visit—though she would prefer to just go over there now. At least now if you didn't answer before she showed up she could say she had reached out.

—

You waited until the water ran cold to get out of the shower. Your skin was raw to the touch, and still a subtle red color after you had dried yourself off and began braiding your hair. You could hardly stand to look at yourself.

You threw on the only clothes you could stand on your skin—a pair of soft sweatpants and fuzzy socks—along with Stina's old Häcken hoodie she left at your place a few days ago. It smelled of her which comforted you even if she wasn't here.

Your phone dinged with a message. Upon opening it, you saw Stina and Katie had messaged, and that you had two missed calls.

"Eat something." Was all your message from Katie said.

She knew you, and knew you wouldn't want to eat today. But you had to.

You went to open Stina's text when your phone lit up with another incoming call. It was from Sandra, the mother of your friend. She did this every year, and every year you told yourself you wouldn't pick up. It wasn't healthy for either of you—it reopened wounds that were barely scabbing over as it was. She inevitably cried, and asked why you had left her daughter alone that night, and you bit your lip raw trying to keep quiet and apologize.

But even though you knew the script, you picked up the phone.

"Hi," you said, your voice noticeably smaller.

You heard a sigh of relief on the other end.

"How are you, Sandra?" You continued, your fingers picking at your lip anxiously. You felt it start to bleed and did nothing.

"Are you still in Limerick?" You continued your flood of questions, waiting for her onslaught to begin.

A few minutes later, once you were on your tenth question and you'd switched from your lip to pressing your nails into your bloodied palm, you heard her begin to cry.

You weren't sure how you managed this every year. Memories of the funeral flashed behind your eyes, and how you hadn't been allowed to stand near the front with the rest of the friends and family. How Sandra had wailed, and smacked you across the face in the parking lot. You stared at your kitchen backsplash and just listened.

"Why, why did you do it?" She cried, and you bit the inside of your cheek.

"I'm sorry." You whispered.

"You left her alone, you killed her, you always brought her home expect that one fucking night and look what happened. It should've been you, it should've been you, you don't deserve this—"

And so it continued. Tears streamed down your face as your brain began to shut down as a defense mechanism. You just felt numb. Nobody else existed in the world except for you and this woman whose life you had ruined. No Katie, No Stina, Nobody that gave you their love and wanted you here. You didn't deserve what you had, not your success where it should've been your friend's, not your team, not your girlfriend. You were an imposter on this planet, a thief.

—

It turned out that going over to your place wasn't as simple as it seemed. Stina tried asking Jonas if she could be excused from practice, but he insisted that she stay just for an hour. Arsenal had a match with the Spurs in four days and Jonas wanted to go over strategies with the forwards. No skipping.

So Stina stayed—looking at her phone every thirty seconds for a text from you. There was nothing, and it freaked her out even more.

Whatever Jonas was saying, none of it was registering. She would ride the bench if she had to, it didn't matter to her now. Her leg bounced nervously, and Viv looked at her with concern on her face every couple of minutes. When Jonas went outside to take a quick call, she turned to Stina and immediately asked after her.

"What's wrong, is it something with Odi?"

Stina nodded, her tight lipped expression telling Viv all she needed to know. She gave Stina a look of sympathy and glanced at her watch, clearly wondering when the meeting would be over as well.

"Odi, something's wrong with her?" Beth butted in unabashedly.

You'd gotten the nickname for a few reasons: you'd danced for years as a child as a ballerina, which showed in your play. You were showy, and graceful, not the aggressive type. Like a swan, someone had once said to you—and the swan lake association stuck: Odette, or Odi for short. Arsenal's dancer.

Jonas re-entered the room before Beth could ask any more questions, saving Stina the struggle.

"For Christ's sake, let the poor girl go," Beth called out as Stina checked her phone for the hundredth time.

Jonas sent a look Beth's way, but decided to be merciful.

"Alright, Blackstenius, you're excused. But I'll be seeing you tomorrow."

Stina practically ran back to the locker room, throwing her kit into her bag and getting changed as fast as she could. A steady sense of dread was building in her. She decided to call you as she left the training grounds and walked to her car, hoping she could catch you and tell you she was coming. It would soothe her mind just to hear your voice.

But instead of your voice on the other end, Stina was met with the busy signal. That confused her even more—you weren't a fan of phone calls necessarily, and she knew your parents would be working now, so it was unlikely they would have called you.

She tried once more, hoping she had just happened to catch you at the tail end of a call, but you still didn't answer.

—

You had barely hung up the phone with Sandra before the tears began to pour from your eyes. It was as though time had made no difference and you were hearing of your friend's death for the first time. All the pain, all the self loathing that had fallen down upon you then still crushed your shoulders with its weight.

Your phone dinged again—a message from Katie.

Respond to me or I'm coming over there myself.

You didn't want Katie here. She had been there in years past, and for her to see you no better despite the time and therapy you put in, well you couldn't handle the shame.

I'm alive and well - see you tomorrow at training

You replied, knowing if you told her you were fine and left it at that she might kill you herself.

You giggled at the thought of her huffing and puffing at you, demanding you take better care of yourself like a surrogate mother. When your mother wasn’t around, Katie did a damn good impression of her. You never got away with anything if Katie had a say. You laughed through your tears, feeling like every nerve of yours was on a razor's edge.

A knock at the door barely registered in your mind as you wandered over to the couch, wanting nothing more than to curl up in a ball and waste away for the next twelve hours. Your head was beginning to hurt from all the crying, which only soured your mood further. For the first time you had the thought: I don't want to be alone.

You thought it must’ve been a hallucination, the way Stina appeared in front of you.

—

Stina wasn’t sure what to expect when she knocked on the door of your apartment. She had spent the entire drive over worrying about how she could find you, partially cursing Katie for giving her just enough info to get her mind going in a million unhelpful directions. The fact that you weren’t texting her back hadn’t helped either. The road before her blurred as she drove without thinking, her body getting her to your apartment building on instinct.

The elevator dinged at each floor and with it her heartbeat increased.

When you didn’t answer the door it dropped.

“Hello?” Stina called out, having opened the door with the spare key you had given her a few months ago. She cursed herself for not staying with you last night when you looked so weighed down, so tired. She’d let you convince her you were fine—something she wouldn’t do again anytime soon.

When she turned the corner from your kitchen into the open space of your living room she spotted you. There you were, curled up on the couch in a small ball, silent.

“Did you hear me knock?” She asked softly, approaching you.

You didn’t reply, didn’t even look at her.

She slowly reached out a hand to place it on your head gently, when you turned and looked at her. It frightened her—the look in your eyes. She hadn’t ever seen them so empty.

“Stina?” you whispered, confusion present in your tone.

“Yes, min kärlek, jag är här.”

She put a hand softly on your face, cupping your cheek.

“You’re really here?”

There were tears beginning to gather in your already red eyes. Stina felt her throat constrict. You’d been crying, clearly a lot by how swollen your face was.

Stina pulled you up and into her arms easily, shifting you so she could sit on the couch with you in her lap.

“What’s wrong?” she asked gently, remembering that you had said once that hearing her speak her native Swedish calmed you down.

You wiped your eyes, lip still trembling slightly.

“Did Katie say something? Or Jonas?”

Stina wiped your cheeks with the pad of her thumb, brow creased with worry.

“Katie said today was hard for you, that’s it. Promise.”

You went silent, thinking.

“I was going to tell you. I promise, I meant to. But it just never seemed like a good time, or I just wanted to avoid it as long as possible…you see, Katie met me not long after it happened, she was there, it’s different. I didn’t trust her with this and not you on purpose. She can’t help but know.” You shifted off of Stina’s lap, curling in on yourself next to her so your skin wasn’t touching.

“I hate myself for it. I do, really. And every time I tell someone, they might hate me too, I know that. And I just couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t give you the chance to hate me.”

Stina put a hand on your shoulder, biting her lip to contain a small sob when you flinched away from her. It was as if you weren’t even there in front of her. All of the grace and kindness and light that had been there just a few days ago seemed to have been swallowed by darkness. To hear you say the words ‘I hate myself’? Stina could cry at the thought of it. Those were words that should never come from your mouth. It was like a knife in her ribcage.

“Min söta… älskling”

“Don’t call me that,” you sobbed, putting your hands over your eyes and hiding your face from her.

"Snälla, låt mig hjälpa dig, please, I want to help.”

You shook your head, face still obscured from Stina’s view.

This was horrible. Stina felt as though she’d eaten something rotten the way her stomach churned. She was helpless, completely in the dark. Here she was, the person who was supposed to take care of you and love you, and she could hardly do anything. All she could think to do as you cried quietly was pull you into her side and rock you slowly. A melody popped into her head—one her mother had sang to her as a child when she was ill.

Stina softly sang, trying not to feel embarrassed by her voice. You were beginning to calm, your hands dropping from your face to her shirt, holding it close. By the time she was finished, the room was quiet, empty of your cries. You were clinging to her, your face buried in the crook of her neck as if you were ashamed of the comfort you needed.

“What was that song?” you asked, voice hoarse.

“It’s a lullaby. I can’t remember the name.”

Stina felt you nod against her skin.

She opted not to say anything further. You were exhausted, she could tell. Anything you wanted to say, you needed to volunteer.

After a few moments, she felt your grip on her shirt tighten.

“When I was nineteen, my best friend died.”

Whatever Stina had been expecting to come out of your mouth, that wasn’t it. She sucked in a breath, trying to remain unaffected. You needed her strength.

“We had been friends for years, since we were kids. And we’d gotten in this huge fight over something… uni I think. I had an offer to play professionally. I had been drinking, so had she. And I always walked her home, always, when she had been drinking. The way to her house was a bit sketchy, you know? So I figured two people were better than one if anything happened. But the things she said to me that night… I’d never been so upset in my life.”

You took a breath,

“So I refused to walk her. She didn’t press, just turned up her nose and walked away, didn’t even say goodbye. And I waited for my bus. The next morning I get a call from her mum—she’s been killed.”

Stina could barely trust herself to breathe.

“I let it happen, I’m the reason she died.”

“No—” Stina began, but you cut her off.

“When they held the funeral, I wasn’t allowed to say anything. I wasn’t allowed anywhere but the very back of the church, because they all knew it was my fault. And still, they know it, they remind me of what happened, what I’ve done. I stole her life!”

“Stop!” Stina demanded, her face flushed with anger. You were taken aback by her passion, and quieted. “You did not steal anything, you didn’t kill her, it isn’t your fault!” She grabbed your hand as you pulled back from her.

“You lost your best friend in such a horrible way, and nobody checked in? Nobody held you?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but this time Stina silenced you.

“I want you to tell me what you mean by ‘they remind you’ of what happened.”

You refused to meet her eyes.

“It’s not good. Not for me or her… she calls me, my friend’s mom, to talk.” You hesitated, but explained the routine to your girlfriend when she fixed you with a look.

“That’s…” Stina seemed at a loss for words, “you are the strongest person I know. And you rake yourself across hot coals for a crime that isn’t even yours. For a woman who wants to see you suffer, who can’t accept your healing. That isn’t right. You did not kill her. That is someone else’s burden to carry.”

You burst into tears again.

—

You must’ve fallen asleep at some point, because the next time you wake up you’re in bed, and Stina is wrapped protectively around you. Her warmth encases you; she holds you more protectively than usual, her arms shielding you from the world.

Eventually the two of you get back up, though not before Stina wraps you in a crushing embrace and lets you know she’s staying for a couple of days. No negotiating.

She makes dinner, you clean. It’s the first time you’ve eaten all day, and you think she can tell by the way she watches you intently. You feel cared for, and it’s a little overwhelming. Stina doesn’t let you out of her sight save a few trips to the bathroom and one brief call from her sister that she has to take.

You didn’t expect things to shake her up so much.

She helps you clean the wounds on your palms, grimacing at the sight of them once you unfurl your fingers for her. You try to tell her you can deal with them yourself—especially with how much it seems to upset her—but she isn't having it. You see her set her brow and concentrate on cleaning and bandaging the damaged skin, tears only glazing her eyes as you hiss in pain.

Eventually you convince her that you're fine enough to settle down on the couch and watch a movie. She insists on having you in her lap—something that you find equally as comforting. Stina isn't typically all that tactile, but now each moment apart from you seems to worry her.

You're about halfway into the film and slowly drifting off into her chest when you feel her whisper something into your skin. You think she assumes you're asleep (and you nearly are) but you make out her voice slightly.

"Tack Gud att du är här." She repeats it, and soon you can feel the drops of her tears hitting your shoulder.

"Stina…" you whisper, repositioning yourself to face her.

"förlåt" she says, wiping her eyes.

"You don't have to be sorry… It was an intense day." You press a kiss to her cheek.

"I was so worried," Stina starts, and you figure it's best not to interrupt her, "when Katie said that you might be struggling, I couldn't think of anything else. You can't hurt yourself anymore, please." Stina takes your bandaged hand.

"If you were gone one day, I don't know how I'd cope."

"You don't have to worry about that, ever."

"You are the most important thing in my life." Stina's lip trembles, and you wonder how you're managing to keep it together.

You pull her into another kiss, lips sore from how you had abused them earlier. The pain reminds you of the struggle of the day, but Stina's hand holds the depths in front of you at bay.

"I'll always be here." She promises.

You begin to think of something lighter. Of an ounce of forgiveness. Of a year that does not revolve around the rising and setting of the sun on this one day. A moment of peace afforded to yourself. The thought passes your mind—you do not deserve this. You instead think of love.

#woso x reader #stina blackstenius x reader #stina blackstenius imagine #woso imagine #woso fanfics #stina blackstenius #woso #woso community #arsenal x reader #swewnt x reader #my writing #i hope this satisfies some of the stina girls #and happy new year (belated lol)

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misseviehyde · 3 months

Text

PIERCE ME

"You are not getting your belly pierced young lady, whatever you may say - this is the end of the story!"

Hannah pouted as her Mother screamed at her for the third time that day. She had been nagging her Mom for hours now, but all it had succeeded in doing was to antagonize Linda and make it even less likely Hannah would get what she wanted.

"That's so unfair. Donna's Mom let her get one. All my friends are getting them!"

"Donna's Mom may not mind her daughter looking like a little slut - but I do. You will have to wait till you are old enough to get one with your own consent. I want nothing to do with this," scowled Linda with her hands on her hips.

Stomping her foot, Hannah tossed back her head with a scream of rage and stormed out of the living room. On the way, she nearly bumped into a smirking figure by the door who was enjoying the show.

Hannah scowled as her little brother Eddie laughed at her. He loved watching her get into trouble and was such a goody two shoes. Pathetic little boys like him needed to stay out of her way.

She went to push him out of the way, but he ducked out of the way and stuck his tongue out at her.

What a little shitbag...

She'd show him to mess with her... him and her Mom!

***

Hannah decided she would get a piercing anyway. Once she had her belly pierced it would be too late for anyone to do anything about it and she didn't care if she got grounded so long as she got what she wanted.

She put on makeup and clothes to make herself look older and stormed down to the mall - but as she was too young to provide an I.D - no one was fooled enough to help her.

Sobbing outside a tattoo parlour, her mascara running, Hannah grit her teeth hard. Life was so UNFAIR. Why couldn't she just do what she wanted?

Suddenly she heard a laugh. A cool looking woman with pink hair and tattoos and piercings was leaning against the side of the shop eyeing her up.

"You gonna give up that easily bitch? I've been watching you all morning trying to get a piercing and failing. I was starting to admire your determination but now I see you're just pathetic."

Hannah stormed to her feet. "Fuck you! I'll get a piercing even if I have to do it to myself!"

The woman's eyes flashed with amusement and partial admiration. "Yes! That's more like it girl. Take what you want. Don't let anyone stand in your way. Bully and manipulate others to always get what you want. Sluts ALWAYS win."

Hannah gawped at her.

"I can see some real potential in you, so I'm gonna help you get EVERYTHING you ever wanted. I can give you an slutty magic piercing. Use it when you get home and it will turn you into a sexy eighteen year old bitch. No one will even remember the old you - it will be like you have always been a hot popular slut. Your Mom will never be able to stop you again. You'll finally be the assertive, bullying, spoiled slut you dream of being and you will be able to get as many tattoos and piercings as you like. No one will ever stop you again."

The woman produced a piercing from between her fingers and tossed it to the surprised Hannah. "Just put this into your belly button and let it bond with you. All your dreams will finally come true. Trust me."

Hannah slipped the piercing into her jeans pocket and with a muttered 'thank you' stumbled away whilst the woman watched with a smirk. Hannah truly believed what she had been given was really magic. There was just something so convincing about the woman.

The pink haired woman watched Hannah run excitedly away then turned and walked back into her tattoo parlour. "Evie's Place."

What happened next really wasn't her problem, she just hoped the girl enjoyed the gift she'd been given...

***

Hannah couldn't believe her luck. She wanted to believe in the magic so badly and be a hot older girl. The urge to put the ring in straight away was almost irresistible, but she wanted somewhere private to transform where she could enjoy her transformation. "Soon I'll be a slutty popular bitch and then NO ONE will stop me."

Hannah ran excitedly home, her heart pounding. She couldn't wait to try the magic piercing and get older and hotter.

Once she was a slutty eighteen year old she could fuck boys, drink alcohol and smoke. She would have a body that would make others jealous and would do whatever she wanted. She couldn't wait to be a slutty, spoiled bully and torment her Mom and stupid brother.

She could already imagine wearing the hottest skimpiest clothes, swearing and belittling people... getting tattoo's and maybe even her nipples pierced. It was going to be so fucking hot!

Bursting through the door to the house, Hannah grabbed the piercing and leapt up the stairs. A few more seconds and her dreams would come true. She quickly ran up to her room, but in her haste failed to notice her brother Eddie was once again in the way.

This time he was too slow to avoid her and they collided, Hannah bouncing backwards and Eddie hitting the wall with an 'oof'. The impact caused her to fall onto her backside and the piercing leapt out of her hand and spinning in the air bounced onto the carpet in front of Eddie. Recovering quickly, he pushed himself off from the wall and he picked up the piercing triumphantly.

"Haha, Mom said you couldn't have one of these. I'm telling. You're gonna be in SO much trouble." Eddie was gloating, he loved having something to hold over his stupid sister.

Seeing the piercing glittering in her brothers fingers, Hannah suddenly felt the icy grip of fear. She had to get the piercing back at once from him, but she needed to play it down. If he thought for one moment it was really important, she'd never get it back. Taking it by force could be an option, but was risky. No... the subtle approach was best.

"It's a fake one you douche. Mom says I couldn't have a real piercing so I bought a fake one that stays in your belly without a pin. It's actually a worthless, cheap piece of shit. You're wasting your time, she isn't gonna care about it." Hannah tried to keep her voice calm.

"No! I don't believe you. I'll prove to Mommy you disobeyed her. Look - it doesn't stay in," sneered Eddie, sliding the piercing into his belly button to prove his sister wrong.

"Noooooo" screamed Hannah - but it was too late as the piercing bit into Eddie's belly button and eagerly took root. He instantly transformed - a rippling wave of energy spreading out from the piercing and turning Eddie from a good boy into a nasty little slut and altering reality to create Hannah's bitchy older sister Ella.

Bones cracked and skin tightened - his flesh tanning slightly as Eddie moaned and stretched pleasurably. It felt good to become a girl and he offered no resistance as big tits pushed out of chest, causing his top to balloon out and his little boy dick sucked away to become a tight eighteen year old pussy.

Lying on the floor, Hannah stared up in horror at her transforming brother as his ass pushed out and he grew taller and sexier than she could ever hope to be.

Slutty white expensive nails sprang from each finger tip and every inch of hair on his body melted away to leave smooth tannedfemale flesh.

The girl above her was moaning and giggling in pleasure as her voice became rich and bratty.

"Oooooh what's happening... mmmmhhh it feels so good," she moaned as her short hair lengthened and grew out. Thick slutty makeup coated Eddie's once innocent face and naughty pink lips curved into a surprised look as his insides churned and he became physically fully female.

"Ohhhh shit, I can mmmmh almost feel my ahhhh new uterus in there... oooh I'm a fucking girl and I like it! I feel so feminine. I can FEEL the estrogen pumping around me. Making me girly, making me like boys. Mmmmh."

Thick black lashes fluttered in pleasure as sexy blonde hair fell down around her shoulders and naughty blue eyes twinkled with the desire for sex.

This girl needed a new outfit and Eddie's shorts became a pair of tight white hot pants as his big tits were encased in a slutty pink top. Gold hooped earring dropped from his ears as his trainers turned into bitchy pink cowboy boots - just perfect to get fucked in.

As his clothes changed - Ella's personality rose inside him to take control. A bitchy voice giggled in his head and Eddie allowed it to re-write his thoughts, mind and personality.

Sinking into Ella felt good. Being older and sluttier felt so amazing. The piercing was making HIM the naughty bitch of the family. He wanted it all.

Hey little Eddie. Time to become me... mmmh time to be a bad, bad girl. You're gonna love having my pussy and tits and being a naughty little cock-sucking slut. Let me fill your head with memories of all the boys we gave blow jobs to and all that cock we swallowed. Mmmh you love cum now don't cha bitch? And getting fucked by a big cock... feeling it deep in that tight pussy. Mmmh you live for that now! Yes thats it... you're becoming me... ahhhhh good boy. Now cum and become me fully...

Shuddering in pleasure, Ella creamed her panties and the once pure and innocent boy became a spoiled bitch. His bad girly side was now dominating their body. Eddie was dead.

"Oh fuck yeah - I am sooooo totally a slut now and I fucking love it. Yessss!"

Giggling madly, Ella grabbed her tits and squeezed. She felt amazing. Being a naughty whore was such fun and she was never going to take the piercing off.

Hannah shook her head like she was in a dream. The events of the last few hours were fading as reality changed so that she remembered nothing of her brother.

Looking at her slutty sister, Hannah felt nothing but disgust. "Eugh - why are you always acting like such a slut?", muttered Hannah darkly as she watched Ella play with herself.

Her sisters new personality had slotted into her own life and having grown up embarrassed and disgusted by her exhibitionist sister, Hannah was now a quiet little nerd girl. She no longer remembered she ever had a brother or that she had even wanted the piercing for herself.

Ella did remember though - it amused her to think she had woken up this morning as a little boy. Being a hot bitchy slut was loads better and she giggled joyously. "Whatever sis. I'm off to my room for some real fun. You're SUCH a fucking loser."

Hannah had just picked herself up. She now had bottle top glasses and a preppy outfit on. Laughing, Ella tore the glasses off her face and ground them under a booted heel - then she pushed her blinded sister over again.

"Ohhh but before I go, if you ever call me a slut again in front of Mom and Dad I'll do worse than this you little bitch. Don't forget it."

***

Changed into something more casual and easy to rip off - Ella excitedly examined her room. It was a boudoir fit for a princess.

Calling her latest boyfriend on her expensive mobile phone, Ella examined her new bedroom as he made his way over. It was pink now. Pink, girly and slutty - just the way she likes.

She played with her blonde hair and admired her sexy new grown up body, lusting after herself. Fuck she was hot.

When her bad boy boyfriend Jason arrived she didn't waste anytime. "Baby - I am so horny. I want you to fuck me... hard."

Ella moaned and squealed as Jason threw her onto the bed and ripped off her clothes. His hand closed round her throat as he pushed deep into her tight bare pussy and began to pound her - causing Ella to moan and groan in pure ecstasy. This was how she liked it... to be used like a whore.

"Yes... fuck me you stud! Pound my body with that big cock! I want it deeper... OHHHH YES"

Ella loved being fucked rough. She watched her piercing glitter in her navel as Jason stretched her pussy out good. His cock slid in and out of her tight clinging pussy lips and her big tits shook as he fucked her hard. She wrapped her tanned legs around his strong waist.

"Cum in me baby... I wanna feel it fill me up."

Turning her head Ella giggled as she saw her door was ajar and the tear streaked squinting face of Hannah was watching her. It was so fucking hot to rub her sisters face in it. Hmmm maybe she should make the little bitch eat Jason's cum when he creampied her?

"Cum in me. Ohhhh fuck yessssssss." She groaned as he pumped so much into her it instantly flooded out down her tanned thighs.

Being a slut felt so fucking good...

***

THREE MONTHS LATER

"What's the matter loser?" laughed Ella as she pulled up next to Hannah on the sidewalk. "No friends to walk home with? I'd give you a lift but I'm on my way to the mall."

Of course Hannah had no friends. Ella had seen to that by bullying them all.

Since becoming a slut Ella had transformed her life and other peoples. She was now a spoiled toxic girly girl and so long as she had her magic piercing, no one could stop her. But her desire to corrupt others was now growing.

"I'm on my way to Evie's Place to buy some more piercings. I was thinking it's time to get Mom and Dad a present too. You know... I think Mom might enjoy a clit piercing. Once I get it onto her, she'll become the fake plastic neighbourhood homewrecker I know she can be. For Daddy - a cock ring and a cage. I can't wait to turn him into a simp."

Lauging, Ella threw some wrappers and trash she didn't want out of her car and into her sisters face. The shutting the door she drove on.

It was time to see what else Evie's Place had to offer...

#evie hyde #bitchification #m2f transformation #age progressiom #magic piercing #sluttification #bad girl #reality change

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c00kieguy · 5 days

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hai :3c (regarding your long distance argenti post; i got lazy at the end sorry huhu)

imagine, one day, he doesn't reply all of a sudden.

imagine one day, late in the evening, you're waiting for argenti's usual goodnight message—either in the form of honeyed, poetic words that could be translated into ballad or the sound of his smooth-as-velvet voice that you could listen to for hours on end.

imagine, falling into uneasy sleep as you can no longer force your eyes open trying to stay awake awaiting your lover's fleeting words reserved for you and only you.

imagine waking up in the morning, immediately turning on your phone in hopes that argenti was perhaps too occupied to send you a message (or, messages) last night—in the past, he has, so hopefully this was one of those cases.

imagine, after a very long day with zero replies from your one and only, there was still radio silence on his end, your messages growing ever more frantic.

a day grows into two, then three, then four, then five.

and then five days becomes two weeks.

at this point, you may as well be growing grey hairs from all the stress you've accumulated worrying about what the hell happened to your boyfriend. he's warned you about the possibility of not being able to contact you for periods at a time due to "certain circumstances"... whatever they were.

but there was also a slim chance of the other possibility of him embarking danger on his journeys out across the stars. you know him—he can be overdramatic, corny.

and reckless.

you perish the mere thought as the doorbell rings; once, then twice.

you slowly cross your abode to the entrance, confused. you aren't expecting anybody today, nor did you order anything. thinking none of it, hoping for a well-rounded distraction you twist the knob open only to be met with a bushel of familiar bright red hair and the scent of roses.

motionless you stare, slack-jawed and silent as you take him in.

you now see that his red hair is ever so unkempt, mussy and tangled; his fragrance of roses shrouded by the odour of blood that stains some of his and dirty scuffed armour. a million questions race through your head among the lines of 'what was so urgent to warrant him not cleaning up when he arrived at your doorstep', or 'where the fuck has he been'.

you almost don't notice him take your hand in his—so gentle, so unlike a knight who has faced countless battles—as he bows down to give yours a tender kiss, you almost wish it was on your lips instead. almost.

it's unfair, really, even with his unkempt appearance you rarely see if ever—he still looks so handsome. he glances up at you with his sparkling eyes, still bowing, answering your unsaid question with an apologetic look.

"my sincerest apologies. my phone had been swallowed by a sting."

("where's my jumping hug you usually bestow me whenever i visit, my dear?" he almost pouts, as if unaware of his uncouth appearance.

"you have bug guts and blood on you."

"but i missed you. :("

"go take a shower, argenti."

you gave him plenty of cuddles and kisses once he and his armour were all cleaned up, and even considered purchasing a backup phone for him in case his new one got swallowed. again.)

ANON THIS WAS SO???!?! I LOVE YOU

ofc his phone got swallowed by a sting. I'd like to imagine he doesn't actually have any important things on his device for this very reason. Every single picture he takes, every important document or any other kind of information he wants saved, he just sends it to you lol. You have a separate folder called 'Argenti's Stuff' (right next to the folder with all the selfies he sends you) (there're like 500+ pictures in it at this point)

"Next time you lose it I'll cuff the damn thing to your wrist."

Ohh and taking care of him afterwards too. I bet he's exhausted from his….endeavors. Imagine running him a bath and helping him wash off all the gunk from his hair >> I got a little carried away hehe, holding him 🤲

Taking in a deep breath you steel yourself against the gruesome state of his hair. Beautiful red locks, once so soft and lush, now matted and sticking to his neck in wet patches. As if that wasn't foul enough, you were sure the tiny clumps of flesh scattered on his hair were just that, flesh. Not to mention the small remnants of the sting's carapace sprinkled on top of everything.

You shake your head and continue, undeterred by the sight in front of you.

Argenti sighs as soon as the warm water hits his head. The heat from the water running down his back like a cozy stream envelops him and alleviates his fatigue as he sinks further into the tub. Holding the shower head with one hand you use the other to carefully work on cleaning up the mess in his hair.

The knight melts into your soft touch, your fingers feel like magic the way they easily untangle his messy hair. The grime and gunk that covered his hair form a bloody river that runs into the drain as they slowly get washed away.

Once you were certain that everything from his hair was cleared out, you move onto the shampoo. Argenti grumbles as you apply a generous amount of the cold gel to his head, clearly disgruntled at the stark contrast in temperate. You disregard his silent complains and start massaging his scalp with both hands, rubbing the foam around his head and adding more shampoo when needed. You swore your bottle felt half as empty by the time you were done.

Rinsing out his hair was a harder task that you thought. Just the sheer volume of it was enough to hold so much soap, you had to spend a considerable amount of time just to wash it all off.

You repeat the whole process just in case, after all, it's hard to tell if there's any blood left when the hair in question is also red…

By the time you're done he's fast asleep and he looks so impossibly cute that way. Just seeing Argenti so visibly relaxed and dozing off made you feel sleepy as well. So you carry him back to the bed and fall asleep next to him <3

(yea I also got lazy at the end lol. it just be like that..)

#honkai star rail #hsr argenti #argenti x reader #x reader #hsr x reader #I've read this like THREE TIMES #genuinely anon wtf #just coming in here and dropping a banger and leaving?!?!!#blood and guts covered Argenti....#consider me a dead man #ask #anon #I'm gonna be thinking about this for the next few weeks....#c00kie.writes #hsr

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oddballwriter · 4 months

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Reader fangirling over moon knight not knowing it was steven/marc/Jake? 🎃

Under Your Nose

Warnings: Not much other than the moon boys lying to you and keeping a secret from you. Also the idea of walking alone at night while drunk.

Author’s Snip: I am so sorry, I literally forgot that this was in my inbox. Sorry for the long wait.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 764

They found it kind of funny. In a sense. You had no idea that the vigilante that you've been fixating on is actually your boyfriends. You didn't live with them so you wouldn't know that them leaving for something was actually them going on a mission. It also kept you from connecting the dots that whenever they leave, Moon Knight's out and about.

They liked to hear your praise. In a way, you not knowing that it's them made your positive comments more genuine because, to you, Moon Knight was just a crime fighter that you would hear about, and so the influence of them being your boyfriends didn't make way for a bias. There were, however, sometimes there were cases where they barely managed to keep the secret.

One night, there was a gang that the boys had to take care of that put up more of a fight than they thought they would and left the system sore from having to fight back and defend. When the next day came, Steven, who was fronting at the time, decided to pay you a visit. But you were able to tell that he was stiff. When you asked, Steven threw the explanation that Jake was fronting last night and he had done an intense workout. You took it and so it was left at that. "Well, then how about we lay down and watch something so you can feel better, yeah?" you recommend. Steven just nodded with a smile,

Next came the time that you had gone out with friends to a bar and had more drinks than you usually do. You decided to walk to the boys' flat since you were not sober and didn't have a ride, and it was closer to the bar than your place. Maybe you should have texted them as a heads-up to your sudden arrival, but by the time you thought of that you were already going up in the elevator.

When you knocked, there wasn't an answer. Maybe they were asleep, it was pretty late after all. After remembering that they had given you a spare key, you unlock it and let yourself in, trying to be as quiet as you can. But looking around, no one was even home. You figured that maybe Jake was cabbing around town or Marc was on a late-night walk. With that idea in mind, you shot them a text telling them that you were at their place and why before taking a quick shower. changing into some clothes you had there, and promptly falling asleep in their bed.

Marc was there in the morning making you some breakfast. He of course, just confirmed that he was out for a stroll around the block because he couldn't sleep, even though he was patrolling. If anything he seemed more concerned that you walked there alone drunk in the dead of night. "I'm fine. It was just a ten-minute walk here." you shrug off. "Still, I don't like the idea of you walking alone like that when it's dark out." Marc said. "I'm surprised we didn't run into each other to be honest." you remark.

And then there was Jake. He had to deal with getting information out of someone and he figured that the best way was the old 'talk in a chair' way. But as it turns out, that guy was more of a hassle than he thought too. He put up a good fight and actually got him good with a punch to the face that damaged his nose. But they always, lose when it's Jake so he got his way in the end. But when you came over the next day, again, you say the bandage and got worried. "It's nothing, beba. I had this guy in my cab. He was drunk off his ass and being a pain. When I looked at him to tell him to knock it off he socked me in the nose." Jake lied. He could still see the concern on your face as to gently touched his bandage. "I'll be fine." he said as he kissed you on the forehead.

It's not that the boys want to keep lying to you. If anything all three hate it. But they feel this air of worry when thinking about you knowing too. They know it's dumb. And they know that they can't keep up the secret for long since they want you to be in their lives. But they just need to think of how to bring it up to you at some point.

#moon knight #moonknight #moon knight x reader #moonknight x reader #jake lockley #steven grant #marc spector #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader

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sluttywoozi · 3 months

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I have been re-reading the supernatural svt and I just need to know more of your thoughts and headcanons for werewolf! Jun

okay so i have his origin story in mind but also some headcanons so i'll do both hehe

warnings: blood mention, food mention, even longer than vampire wonu

jun was going on a late night food run one night and to save time, he decided to use the walking path by his apartment instead of the well lit, safe sidewalks because those go around the forest and the path goes through. he wasn't nervous at all for some reason, even though it was nearly pitch black in the woods and he could hear every single animal moving through the underbrush. he was nearly there, even, when something tackled him from the side, throwing him off the path and tumbling down a rocky hill with him. by the time he stopped falling, he was dizzy and panting and likely concussed, and whatever tackled him was gone.

he had no idea where he was, or how to get back up to the path, so he just wandered until the sun started to rise and then he followed the light to find his way out of the dense trees. his side and back ached, stinging, sharp pains shooting through him with every movement, every step on the uneven ground, but he just attributed that to the fall and continued on his way home.

he didn't think anything was amiss until his roommate lost it at the sight of him, shouting about tracking blood and mud all over the floors and what the hell happened to his back?!

they shoved him to the bathroom and turned on the light, and Jun blanched at the reflection in the mirror. he was absolutely covered in dirt, with leaves sticking out of his hair and moss clinging to his clothes. he turned around and glanced at his back, his eyes growing wide at the large gashes cutting through his skin like claw marks.

he could barely even feel them with the way his whole back throbbed, but they looked ugly, torn, ragged, and above all, dirty. he didn't know what else to do so he hopped in the shower and went about his day, not registering the way sounds were louder and smells were stronger until they got so overwhelming that all he could do was cover his ears and breathe through his mouth.

things only got worse from there, his senses sharpening and his strength increasing with every passing day. he could hear the neighbors two stories up arguing about bills, he could smell dinner cooking in the basement apartment, and he could taste his roommate's confusion and distrust on the air.

the night of the full moon was when it all finally started making sense. well, the morning after really.

Jun doesn't remember what happened that night, just that he woke the next day to someone pounding on his door. he was covered in dirt and blood again, but the blood didn't smell like his or like a human's so he wasn't too worried.

he was a little worried about being able to tell the difference between human and animal blood, but all of his questions were cleared up as soon as he opened the door to find his coworker, Mingyu, large and grinning in the doorway.

"So you're a werewolf too! Why didn't you tell me, bro? We could have been going on runs together this whole time."

oh. a werewolf. huh.

Jun could only lift his shoulders in an exhausted shrug and say, "Nobody told me, my guy."

very puppylike, squirrels turn his head and he'll chase anything that runs

doesn't really have anger issues at all, only wolfs out (outside of the full moon) when he's anxious or scared or feels cornered

love/hate relationship with his heightened senses

loves how food tastes better and his sight is clearer and he can pick out every individual instrument in his favorite songs

hates that he can smell the garbage truck coming, that he can see every speck of dust in his room, that he can hear the couple in 9b arguing then fucking every night

used to be a bit of a homebody but started spending more time outdoors after he was changed

partially because mingyu drags him out on runs, mostly because the fresh air smells nice and the open sky makes him feel free

starts going to a farmers' market down the road from his apartment because he can taste the processing on fruits and veg from the grocery store

it's during one of his weekend visits that he meets you

or rather, smells you

he almost can't describe it, your scent, but as soon as he locked on, it filled his nose and his head and his heart

he practically floated over to your stall, drawn by your fragrance like he was a fish on a line being reeled in

he didn't see you at first, just the flowers covering every inch of the booth, and he thought maybe they were the source of the smell until you popped up from behind the counter

you had supplies in your hands, paper and ribbon and shears, but you jumped and dropped them all at the sight of him, gasping in shock like you'd seen a ghost

"what's wrong??" he asked, concerned, his hands hovering in front of him as he glanced wildly around the market for a threat

"nothing, nothing, i just didn't hear you come up and i didn't expect you to be there," you rushed to placate him, an apologetic expression on your face before you ducked to gather your materials again

he wished he could help instead of standing there and watching you, but there was a table in between you (why is there a table in between you there shouldn't be anything in between you)

"how can i help you?" you bounced up and beamed, laying your things out on the counter neatly, your eyes still on him

he was nearly laid out by the force of your smile, so it's a miracle when he's able to say, "it smelled really good over here, i just followed my nose."

you laughed and told him you were glad the flowers were doing their job, and he didn't have the courage to tell you it wasn't the flowers that brought him here

he bought three bouquets that day, just so he could talk to you longer

one went into his room, one was for his roommate who was only just starting to be nice to him again, and one was for mingyu, who almost cried when he received them, saying he'd never gotten flowers before

he went back to your spot the next week, but you weren't there

so he tried again, only to find the market still devoid of you

jun's not one to give up, he'll try even when he probably shouldn't anymore, so week after week he found himself at the market, buying produce and hoping he would be able to get flowers too, and maybe even your number this time

it takes two excruciating months, but finally, you come back

he smells you before he even gets to the market, your fragrance wafting down the closed off street and calling to him like a siren's song

he waves at the farmers he always buys from but beelines to your stall, finding you swamped with customers and joining the back of the line

you keep up with ease, wrapping bouquets at the speed of light and moving on to the next, until jun is standing in front of you with a shy smile and his hands clasped tightly together

"hi!" you grin like you recognize him, and he thinks maybe you do when you start to pull flowers, the same ones you'd used in the bouquets last time

"hi," he breathes, taking a step closer and taking in a deep breath before saying, "do you think maybe you'd like to perhaps go out with me sometime possibly? you can say no, and i'll never come here again! but if you say yes, then i- i will. all the time."

you're still looking down at your working hands, but he sees the corners of your mouth quirk up in a smile before you glance up and nod, "i would like to go out with you sometime."

he feels like he could melt, so relieved at your answer that it takes him a full minute to realize he hasn't even introduced himself

"oh! i'm jun, by the way," he laughs, holding a hand out

"y/n," you shake his hand firmly, and if you notice how hot it is, you don't let it show

you exchange phone numbers, then flowers and money, and with that, jun is on his way

he texts you as soon as he gets home and you text back almost instantly, sparking a conversation with no beginning or end, only a middle

you text all day, every day for two weeks, and jun wonders if that's a long enough time for him to ask you out again. mingyu thinks it's not, but he also loitered around his crush for a full month until she finally gave him a chance so jun isn't inclined to listen

it's a good thing he doesn't because he does ask you out again and you do say yes

you say yes with lots of exclamation points and jun's smile gets too big for his face and his heart gets too big for his chest

he knows you like flowers so he takes you to the botanical garden on the edge of town

it has a conservatory and fairy lights and tonight, food trucks and pop up bars

you ooh and ahh with every turn, munching on your snacks with wide, wonder filled eyes, turning to him every so often to make sure he's seeing everything you want him to see

he falls in love with you a little bit that night, and a little more every night after

he does wish mingyu had told him about the knotting thing tho, both for your sake and his

part two (surprise knotting)

#✨emily answers✨#✨emily writes✨#jun fluff #jun headcanons #jun scenarios #junhui x reader #jun x reader #jun x y/n #jun x you #seventeen headcanons #seventeen fic #seventeen fluff #supernatural svt #werewolf!jun

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