#some keep me up at night drenched in a cold sweat because i remember | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ickadori · 4 months

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hihi again! i sent in the ask about how suku/ura would react to yorozu interacting with reader, and i just read your newest post, and oh myyyyyyy i think i fell more in love with the whole trio's dynamic ^^

anyway after i read the punishment fic something that stood out to me was the line about y/n's village being burnt down. i wonder if she thinks back to her times living in the village. in my mind, y/n kinda hated her life beforehand. she may have been treated badly in the village and now that she thinks back on it, she realizes just how much suku and ura have changed her life. like, she's actually grateful for their violence because now she's able to live her life (somewhat) freely.

just a little fluff moment for the trio that crossed my mind but i'd love to hear your take on soft moments like this with the trio :) if there any ig :p

cws for mentions of abuse from reader’s family.

You don’t often think about your life before Sukuna and Uraume - you try not to, at least, but sometimes you can’t help but remember your time in the village on nights like this: lightning lighting up the dark sky, thunder booming overhead, and wind violently whipping the trees back and forth as a storm rages outside.

You had come from a small village, one that wasn’t even big enough to make it on the map. All of the townspeople knew each other by name, and could list off everyone in your family two generations past. Everyone knew everyone, and everyone knew everything about each other, and you think that was the worst part of it all.

Your parents had died when you were young, too young to even remember their names, much less their faces, and your aunt had been the one to take you in. You used to wonder why she had done it, she had made it painfully obvious how much she detested you and your dead mother, but in a village as small of yours and a pride as great as hers, she would have rather died than have the village folk whisper about her behind her back.

Her other children, your cousins, had been no kinder towards you. They followed their mother’s lead and ostracized you, a few of the nastier ones even taking to bullying you when their day hadn’t gone how they wanted it to. You had been their anger outlet, occasionally their punching bag, all while you had to clean up their messes and cook their meals.

They were allowed to have academic lessons to teach them to read and write, while you had been to stand outside in the yard to keep from overheating anything. Your aunt enforced this rule no matter the weather conditions, and you found yourself shivering in the cold winter months, your coat tattered and no shoes on your feet (you weren’t permitted to leave the house, so what was your need for shoes, she always said) as you stood in the snow until your feet grew numb, or overheating in the hot, summer sun until you were drenched in sweat and severely dehydrated.

Sometimes it stormed —just as it is now, as you reside in Sukuna’s palace—, stormed so badly that the trees became uprooted from the ground and crashed down beside you. You cried and sobbed those days, because the thunder was loud enough to drown out your cries, and therefore you didn’t have to worry about your aunt growing angry about the noise.

The people of your village cast you glances, some filled with pity, others filled with indifference, but none of them offered a hand to help. They watched you stand for hours, some days the bruises marring your skin glaringly obvious, and pulled their shutters closed as they disappeared into their homes and erased you from their minds.

You hated them, every last single person in that village, and that’s why you hadn’t shed a single tear when it was tore down to the ground. You had stood there and watched, not frozen, as a single man killed all the people you had wished death upon countless times. You had thought he was some kind of demon coming to exact revenge on your behalf, so it was no surprise to you when you had thrown yourself at his feet and cried in joy, jumbled words of thanks and gratitude being thrown at him.

You had fully expected for him to kill you, too, and you hadn’t minded one bit - you had got to see their ends first, so you couldn’t complain too much now that yours was next, but here you were..

Standing near the open doors to the garden and watching as the flower petals were ripped free from the violent winds and whipped around in the air. A crack of thunder sounded, and a flash of lightning lit up the sky in the next second.

A strong gust of wind sends you teetering back on your heels, and a set of hands settle on your waist to steady you. You tilt your head back and look up to see Sukuna, a small smile gracing your features as you take him in.

“You said you disliked storms.”

“I do.”

“So you stand in open doors to watch them?” He looks down at you, hands moving to pull at your now wet night dress, and he lowly tsks. “You’ll catch a cold.” Uraume seems to appear out of thin-air as they push the doors closed, their attention also moving to your wet clothing.

“It’s just a bit of rain - I’ll be fine.”

“The bath is still hot, my Lord.”

“Cover yourself in the meantime.” Sukuna drapes his overcoat around your shoulders, his scent completely surrounding you. You’re hoisted into his arms a moment later.

“I’ll have one of the servants prepare some tea in advance—some soup, as well.”

They speak back and forth as they move through the halls to the bath room, and Uraume wastes no time in filling the still steaming bath with a few different herbs that you recognize as medicinal. Sukuna makes quick work of your clothing and even quicker work of his, and then he’s lowering the two of you down into the bath, one set of hands scooping up hot water and letting it run down your chilled arms, the other set kneading into the meat of your lower back.

Uraume is out of the room in the blink of an eye, and you release a breath as you relax into Sukuna’s chest, your hands moving to grab ahold of one of his. “Ryomen..”

A hot rag is pressed to your forehead as he hums in response, and you run your fingers over the bumps of his knuckles. “What is it?” He pushes, and you shake your head when a lump begins to build in your throat, instead choosing to twist around in his lap and press your cheek against his chest, his skin hot against yours.

You hear Uraume enter a few moments later, confirming that the soup and tea will be ready soon, and then their hands are joining in to move a hot rag against your skin, their voice low as the two of them speak back and forth about your apparent “lethargy”.

They make it painfully evident that without them, you would have likely died in that village never having known what it felt like to be cared about, and it makes your feelings for them ever stronger.

..thank you.

#sukuna x reader #uraume x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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draguta · 1 year

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.a court of fate and fortune | one.

pairing: lucien vanserra x fem!reader

summary: | book two | lovers separated, powers that won't be controlled, a doomed wedding. with the threat of war looming over prythian, lucien, Y/N, tamlin, and rhysand's inner circle must scramble to find allies and prepare themselves for what is to come. but Y/N only has one aim; to find her way back to lucien, and protect him at all costs.

chapter warnings: smut, 18+, minors dni, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering

chapter word count: 3747

a/n: chapter one of our sequel! yessssss! (side note: forgot to add my taglist for the entirety of a court of ash and smoke, so we're back with the taglist for the sequel lol) for this series i will be posting if and when chapters are ready rather than on a schedule (i'm moving across the world this month so keeping up with a schedule is going to be hard)

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please remember to reblog, like, and share a comment if you enjoy this series - it is always appreciated by writers to see their hard work valued.

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Missing

Hands caressed bodies. Some falling to the hair of the other, tangling and twisting at the roots. Some pressed against chests, rising and falling with laboured breathing. Some travelling down, past the point of no return, to where each of you needed it the most. His lips were on my neck, sucking at that spot just under your ear that made your head fall back in pleasure, made your toes curl in anticipation.

“I missed you so much,” he said as his lips traced lower, over your collarbone, nipping slightly at the skin there, down past the crevice between your breasts, turning to pull each nipple into his mouth. The only sounds that you could form were breathy moans, whispers of his name, a pleading to show you just how much he had missed you.

A hand pressed down over your dripping heat, the heel of his palm pressing fervently to that spot that caused you to shudder irrationally. Then a finger was dipping inside, bringing with it a wave of pleasure unlike any you had experienced before. Time made the heart grow fonder, and distance made the pleasure grow stronger.

“How perfect you are,” he whispered against your skin, breath hot as lips caught with each movement of his hand inside you. “How perfectly made, just for me.”

Because you had been made for him. And he for you.

His fingers disappeared, and you whined at the loss. Until, that is, you felt his tip nudge against you, gathering your wetness. His forehead pressed against yours, and as he pushed in, the pure euphoric bliss almost overwhelming, you allowed your eyes to open. They caught his in a second, and you didn’t let them go. You watched every ounce of pleasure that etched itself into the colour of his eyes.

One russet. One golden.

“Never leave me again,” he said, voice almost breaking.

“I will never leave you,” was your reply. And you knew that was the truth.

“I love you,” he huffed out, close to a beg, as if he were pleading for you to accept it, to let him love you. Little did he know that you had accepted it a long time ago with open arms. “My mate.”

His mate.

Your mate.

You woke with a start, so fast that you could barely grasp your surroundings. Your skin was hot, clammy and sweaty, and there was a fire burning in the pit of your stomach, one that you doubted could be doused in any kind of water.

There was only one way to put out those flames, to dull them to nothing more than embers. Only one person. But he wasn’t there, he never was. That dream wasn’t real, a monstrous lie told by your own traitorous mind to keep you from going crazy. From losing it entirely. Your mattress was cold, your bed empty, and your heart aching for that one soul that you couldn’t see.

The door swung itself open, revealing the High Lord of the Night Court himself leaning against the door frame, hands in his pockets. “Again?” He asked. You could do nought but nod, running a hand through your sweat-drenched hair. He meandered inside, closing the door behind him, and perched on the end of your bed. He could no doubt scent the arousal in the air, but he didn’t comment on it - he never did. That was an unspoken rule between you.

He mourned the curse-breaker. You mourned the emissary. And you did so, each and every night, in each other’s company. You never spoke of it, never discussed the things that hunted your nightmares or his, but you were there for each other when the ones you both really wanted could not be. So you would sit, curled up in front of the fire, tea appearing before you as a courtesy of the very house that you lived in. And you would wallow in silence.

Dreaming of your mates.

Fate was a fickle thing.

You had never been one to believe in fate. For as long as you could remember you had scoffed at the idea that there was some higher power setting out a plan for your life. You preferred the idea that the things that happened to you were the outcome of a butterfly effect; that a decision you had made, however long ago, had led you to that particular moment, for whatever reason that may be. It wasn’t fate leading you there; it wasn’t the Cauldron or the Mother making those decisions on your behalf. It was you. Your strength. Your determination. Your courage. Your conscious choices.

Although you knew that choice wasn’t something that everyone was granted without hesitation. You weren’t given the choice to become High Fae. You weren’t given the choice to keep these powers. And you weren’t given the choice to have Lucien as your mate, although you would have chosen him regardless.

Even as a child you clung to the belief that your life was solely controlled by you. But that had been before, when you were mortal, naïve, and had thought the span of your world lay within the confines of your family’s estate in the Mortal Lands. When you’d assumed that the farthest you would ever go would be the village market, that you would never venture past the Wall, and that the male you cared for the most would be that of your blood brother, Arleon.

You knew better now.

How strange, how quickly things can change.

You could only assume that it hadn’t been your own decisions that had ultimately led you to where you were. You could only hope. Because the idea that every step you had been forced to take, every path you had been pushed to follow, was somehow due to something you had done, was all-but sickening to you.

Every life lost. Every battle fought in that cold, cavernous mountain. Every memory that haunted your each and every waking moment.

Every dream of him.

But that was the thing, you supposed; it had been worth it, you were certain of that. Whether it had been fate, or the will of the Cauldron and the Mother, or your own choices alone, those steps had brought you here, to Velaris. They had found you Feyre, had taken you to Prythain in the first place. And they had united you with Lucien, even if he was not so very far away.

It was all worth it.

Weeks had passed since Rhysand had first brought you there. The Night Court had been nothing at all as you had been expecting. When you had pictured torture chambers, instead sat plush bedrooms and studies and libraries. Where you had imagined the streets run red with the blood of victims, you had alternatively found cobblestone streets where the laughter of children bounced and echoed from the walls. It all seemed so lively. No bloodshed. No pain. Just pure, undiluted happiness radiating from the very streets of this city. How wrong those rumours in the Spring Court had been.

You had found yourself feeling strangely at home there, and you were certain that it wasn’t solely because of the city itself, but rather because of the people that you had found yourself surrounded with there. The Inner Circle of Rhysand’s court, his brothers, his cousin, and that terrifying black-haired female, had all welcomed you, regardless of where you had come from, and who your brother was.

Tamlin. You would have been lying if you said his name hadn’t crossed your mind on more than one occasion since your arrival there. You wondered if he might have been looking for you, if he knew who had taken you in the first place, if he had worked out that you had come willingly. That you had wanted to leave him behind. It was the least that he had deserved.

Perhaps Lucien had told him of your letter. No, surely Lucien wouldn’t do such a thing, not when that letter had been for his eyes and his eyes only. You hadn’t felt the need to include that; you knew all too well that he would understand the implication without it needing to be explained.

Lucien. Cauldron, how you missed him. Your entire body ached for him, for his touch. Each and every night he would visit you, and his hands would caress your body, his lips would brush against your skin, and everything would feel so right once more. Until you woke up, that is, and realised that it had all been in your head. That bond inside you, the one that was still entirely one-sided, that tied you to him, drew you back to him, to find him and never leave his side again. But you knew that you couldn’t. Not until you knew that you were no longer a threat to him, and for that you would risk missing those days with him. For that you would risk him falling back into resentment against you for leaving. You would never hurt him, even if it meant he hated you for it.

Your training had been going well. Each and every morning was spent in the ring at the House of Wind going over your manoeuvres with Cassian, who seemed more than impressed by how much you had already managed to grasp in the short time that you had been training. You cited Silas - your teacher - as the sole reason for that, although Cassian had been quick to shoot down the idea.

“Nah, that’s all you,” he had said, thumping you hard on the shoulder. Not hard enough to leave a bruise, but rough that it left a lingering pain.

Your afternoons were usually spent with Rhys going over the training of your powers. Even in just the few short weeks that you had been practising, you had already managed to get a grip on how to swell and shrink your power if and when you needed it - to bring it to the forefront and hide it away to lie in wait, only at your non-verbal command. Loosely was the optimal word, however; you still hadn’t quite perfected it just yet.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Rhys’ crooning tone sounded from behind you. He had found you in the spot that you seemed to have taken residence in more than anywhere else during those first weeks. The very corner of the balcony where you had spotted your first glimpse of Velaris, where the stone met at a point, providing you with the perfect place to lean into and simply look out upon the city that so few dared to venture into. Rhysand copied your stance, bringing his forearms up to rest against the stone of the railing, clasping his hands together, violet gaze trained on you. “You’re thinking about him again, aren’t you?”

“I’m never not thinking about him,” you admitted, refusing to meet his stare for fear that, should you see those eyes filled with a knowing sympathy, the very walls that you had built to keep yourself guarded might crumble, leaving you a weeping mess at his feet. You hadn’t divulged to him that Lucien was your mate - hadn’t even mentioned that you loved him - but Rhysand had garnered that there was at least something there, some sort of feeling that made you ache for him the way that you did.

“I know a little of what that feels like,” he said, his lips pulling into a sorrowful smile. And there you remained, as you had for so many nights, standing in silence, lonely but not alone, staring out across the city that he called home.

Mourning those you could not have.

The Spring Court had never felt so…empty. It bustled around Lucien at a never-ending pace, preparations readying for what Ianthe had begun calling the wedding of the century. Everyone was in high spirits - even Tamlin, to a degree. That stoic demeanour was still just as it had been on the day Y/N had left, yet there was a glimmer in his eye at the thought of what lay ahead. A lifetime with the female he loved.

Lucien couldn’t help the twinge of jealousy that ricocheted through him at the very idea.

Feyre, he had noticed, seemed to be the only person who wasn’t excited for the upcoming nuptials. Well, the only person besides himself. She had closed herself off, more so with Y/N’s departure to the Night Court. It had left her with no one, not really. She had Tamlin, and his arduous mood swings, and Ianthe who seemed to be trying to paint her into the portrait of an obedient High Lord’s wife. And she had him, but he couldn’t deny that his heart simply wasn’t in it anymore.

There was no more teasing from him, no more humoured lilt in his tone when he spoke to her. He too, it would seem, had become closed off since Y/N had left, for a different reason, of course.

Because his heart longed to be with her, to be near her, and no matter what distractions he might find for himself - training with Silas and the sentinels, or heading out on hunts, or lending a hand to Tamlin with the court’s paperwork - that need for her never dissipated. It was always there, bubbling under the surface.

Tamlin hadn’t given up searching for her. Sentinels had scoured every inch of the Spring Court in search of anything, and Lucien himself had been sent to damn-near every court in the hopes of retrieving her safely, or of at least finding a clue as to where she might actually be. Lucien knew, of course, although he wouldn’t share that information with his High Lord. He knew for certain that it was Rhysand and his Night Court goons who had ‘supposedly’ stolen her away in the night. Tamlin knew that too, although he was woe to believe it; he had scented that male in her room that night, and had pieced the puzzle together. Silas had even said as much, having stated with such conviction that it had been them. But Tamlin knew better than to go storming into the Night Court and risk starting an all-out war between courts without proof that she was even there, and Lucien was doing everything he could to make sure that didn’t happen.

And so, it remained, Y/N in the Night Court, Lucien in the Spring Court; two lovers trapped miles, and multiple courts and territories apart. Tamlin continued scouring every book that held any information about the laws of Prythian, and still sent his sentinels out in search of clues. Lucien kept his friend distracted from invading Night Court lands, did his best to keep Tamlin focused on the Spring Court and Feyre and the upcoming wedding. And the best that he was able to do was dream of her, to think of her when he closed his eyes, and to imagine that she was there by his side.

He felt her in every Spring breeze blowing the scent of jasmine and lavender from the gardens; her scent. He felt her in every kiss of sunlight that fell against his skin as warm as her lips, every click of blade against blade when he sparred with the sentinels. In the birds that chirped that reminded him of that night Under the Mountain when they had stared out of that little window in his chambers for hours. In every smile that he saw plastered onto the faces of passing village fae, beaming and glowing and beautiful.

He felt her everywhere, except beside him.

“That was good,” Rhys said with a small chuckle. “Although next time, please try not to go for my face. You nearly took my head off.”

You rolled your eyes and unwrapped your legs from their seated position. You had been at it for hours, trying to get your powers to reveal themselves in a non-threatening way. Rhys had said that this was the obvious next step - to learn how to let them out, to breathe, even when there wasn’t a threat. Until now, it would seem that anytime you let your powers out, they would immediately lunge for whomever else was present, as if their sole reasoning for being was to kill. And all of your previous lessons had forced Rhys to place a protection shield around himself. But now, it would seem, he was willing to take the risk. Perhaps he trusted you enough now to not let them hurt him. You weren’t sure you trusted yourself with that though. Until that point, the only person that the red smoke hadn’t tried to harm was you.

You had been perched on the rooftop of the House of Wind, away from any civilisation that may have been caught in any destruction your power might have made should it not go to plan, for what seemed like forever. Every ticking second only stood to remind you of how little you really knew or understood of these powers, and how little you were able to control them. They had already lunged for Rhysand well over ten times, and you could only assume that they would try again.

“It’s not working,” you muttered, wrapping your arms around yourself to protect from the sharp chill of the mountaintop. “It’s pointless. I’m never going to be able to control these fucking powers.”

Rhys frowned. “You’re not giving yourself enough credit. These powers that you have are strong, and the way that you’re able to wield them already, to let them out and reel them back in on command, is already showing a lot of restraint.”

“Not enough. They still try to kill you every time.”

Rhys sighed, rising to his feet and shoving his hands in his pockets, allowing his shoulders to shrug ever-so-slightly. “We’ve not been doing this for long. You need to have patience.”

“Because it’s not going to happen overnight, right?” You scoffed, echoing the words that he had told you countless times already, spinning on your heel to look back at him. His lips went thin in what you could only assume was pity.

“Exactly,” he affirmed. “You think I was able to control my powers immediately? No, it took me centuries to get this kind of grip on them, and even still, there are aspects that I haven’t perfected.”

You winced. Centuries. Centuries away from Lucien. You weren’t sure you could make it that long without him. You were sure you would go mad from want long before that. “I just feel…useless,” you admitted, kicking at the snow on the rooftop with the toe of your boot. Rhysand sighed once more, moving to clap a hand on your shoulder.

“You’re definitely not useless,” he said quietly. “Have more trust in yourself than that. I know that you’re eager to get it right, but don’t push yourself.”

“What would you suggest instead?” You asked with a raised eyebrow. He chuckled, turning and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you back toward the door. You relished in the warmth that his arm provided; it seemed any training that you had been doing was finished, for now.

“Patience,” he said again. He looked at you from the corner of his eye, watched the way your shoulders slumped, and your breath clouded in front of you as you exhaled deeply. “I have to admit, these few weeks I’ve been watching you train, I’ve noticed some similarities between your powers and Azriel’s shadows. They’re not the same, far from it, but they act in a similar way. Maybe he could be of some help to us.”

The only thing you could do was nod.

Patience. You had to be patient. But if you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t sure how long that patience could last.

It was quite a scene, really, that Lucien had stumbled across. He rarely found himself in the rose garden - preferred to leave it as a place for Tamlin, a place where he could feel closer to his mother. But for some reason, in the weeks since Y/N had left, he had found himself drawn to that little rose garden, the flowers that bloomed there year-round reminding him of her. Of the rose he had gifted her for Solstice that had been more of a jibe against her than a real gift.

He regretted that now.

But as he wandered the gravelled path, the little stones crunching and sinking beneath each step of his boots, his eyes fell on Feyre. Her familiar haunch was perched on the edge of one of the stone benches. Lucien couldn’t deny in that moment that she looked rather angelic - golden-brown hair amidst blood-red roses. The scene would be like that of one of the paintings that Feyre loved so much, if it hadn’t been for her ghostly pale skin, paper-like from endless days trapped in the house.

As he grew closer, he noticed that she held a rose in her hand, twirling it between her fingers. Each thorn was gone, ripped from the stem with what he thought looked like almost angry intent.

He cleared his throat, and she looked up, catching his eye in surprise.

“Didn’t think I’d find you out here,” he said, finally coming to a stop at the bench and taking a seat beside her, stretching his legs out straight against the gravel.

“I could say the same thing,” she muttered with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She drew in a sigh, turning away from him and glancing back down to the rose in her hand, to the way it twirled, the sunlight bouncing off each petal. “I wish Y/N was here.”

Lucien blinked slowly. “Me too.”

“She loves you. You know?” Her words were so quiet, almost a whisper, barely audible above the gentle breeze that rustled the leaves above. Lucien wondered, for a second, if the words were being uttered without her permission or forethought.

“I know,” he replied as gently as he could.

“She’s lucky.” He watched as Feyre tossed the rose back into the bush, turning in her seat to stare at him intently. “Don’t let her forget how important she is.”

Lucien opened his mouth to speak, but before he had the chance, she was rising to her feet and floating back down the gravel toward the manor in eerie silence.

Lucien didn’t stop her.

Taglist

Complete: | @loveshineslikethesky | @elleclairez | @lostpirateinwonderland |

Lucien Vanserra: | @luna-foxglove |

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bultaoreunheyyy · 7 months

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Persistent Fever (Sicktember, Jungkook)

Sicktember Prompt: #8 Persistent Fever

Word Count: 420

Sickie: Jungkook (fever)

Caregiver: Namjoon

“You can’t seem to shake this bug, huh?”

Namjoon’s going for a lighter tone, but it just comes out sounding worried as fuck. Jungkook is on day five of the flu from hell and his fever is hanging on despite the fever reducers and the twelve hours of sleep a day he’s been getting and then never-ending worry that, apparently, Namjoon can’t keep from his voice for even one sentence.

Jungkook peers up at him from where he’s curled up on his side, arms wrapped around himself. He’s trembling and Namjoon pulls out his phone to search on Naver for the tenth time whether he should let Jungkook have his blanket back or not.

“I’m cold,” Jungkook replies flatly. And then, he ducks his head to his chest as the beginnings of a cough bubble up in his chest. The cough that comes out is awful-sounding, crackly and congested as it catches in his lungs and forces its way out.

“Damn, Jungkook-ah,” Namjoon whispers, dragging a hand down his face.

When Jungkook finally catches his breath, he pulls his knees even tighter to his chest, shivers shaking his frame. After a moment, he seems to realize something, and he pats at his own chest.

“Where’s my–” Jungkook’s breath catches, in danger of turning into another cough until he swallows it down. “Where’s my sweatshirt? And my pants?”

"You got really overheated last night."

"You…you took my clothes off of me?"

"No! You took your own clothes off. You don't remember?” Namjoon frowns.

Jungkook slowly shakes his head, swallowing with a wince.

“Well, we can get you back into a sweatshirt, but why don’t you change into some dry clothes before you do?” Namjoon eyes the sweat-drenched t-shirt and boxers. “I’m going to go grab you some water. Let me know if you need help changing.”

Jungkook nods and pushes himself up into a sitting position.

Namjoon tries not to worry about the way that he sways back and forth as he leaves the room. When he returns, Jungkook is wearing a fresh sweatshirt and pair of sweatpants, and he has also found his missing blanket and wrapped himself up in it like a sickly little burrito.

“Kook-ah,” Namjoon sighs. “You’ll overheat again.”

“At least I won’t be cold then,” Jungkook grumbles, squeezing his eyes shut.

Namjoon takes in his flushed cheeks, his sweat-matted hair.

“Okay,” he concedes, because Jungkook is miserable enough as it is. “You can keep the blanket.”

Jungkook smiles. He falls asleep less than two minutes later.

#sick jungkook #caretaker namjoon #sickie jungkook #bts sickfic #sickfic #sick bts #fever #sicktember 2023 #drabble

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wildcole · 1 year

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Numb

Hey! I wrote this and thought I might share.

I am sorry, this is not beta-read, because I do not have one.

Also, English is not my mother tongue, so tell me if I didn’t see some mistakes.

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x reader

TW: mention of bad mental health (nothing too bad), softness, angst, fluff, the squad being a family.

Here goes that thing.

_______________________________________________

Her flat is empty, lifeless, and she feels oddly connected to the feeling. Nothing is the same since the last mission and she wonders when she lost herself, she doesn’t remember when she got this numb.

Y/N knows her body and her mind are still trying to take in the near-death experience and she doesn’t blame herself to take so long to do it: the crash, the screaming, the hospital…

She remembers vividly the shaking of her hands and how it never stopped ever since.

Everyone was so happy in the end, she thought it would go away with the adrenaline but it didn’t, she had trouble sleeping that night, like deep down, her guts were still trying to settle down in her body but kept failing.

So here she is, sitting against her couch, smoking cigarettes, waiting for the time to pass or anything, she doesn’t even know, but the freezing water and the dark in her flat are the only thing soothing her vaguely, so she keeps on sipping on the freezing water, focusing on her breathing, like it could stop the shaking.

She tried to eat but everything keeps coming out shortly after.

She doesn’t sleep. At all. It’s been two days and she’s exhausted but she dreads the sight of her bed, so she passes out repeatedly on the couch, waiting for the next nightmare to drench her in sweat and keep her awake for the next few hours.

Her phone battery died a few hours ago, and she doesn’t want to recharge it, because the charger is in her bedroom, and right now she doesn’t want to confront the fact that her bed is still made, that it looks comfy, and that even in its safety, she won’t be sleeping.

So it died and cut the last contact she had with the outside.

She is not worried about the others, because she doesn’t think about them, because she was trying so hard not to crumble on the carrier that she left with just the shadow of a smile and a few handshakes.

She’s cold, been for a few hours now, but sweat doesn’t stop rolling down her back, on her chest and in her neck. She didn’t take a shower, and she reeks, she can feel it.

It’s not a pretty sight, but she doesn’t wanna leave the seat she has taken in front of the couch, she just hopes that’s everything will be okay soon, because she can feel her mind expanding and getting emptier by the minute, crushing her in emptiness. The more she thinks about it, the less she feels connected to reality, and soon, the last string will break, and she’s afraid she’ll be stuck in this floating state forever. Sweating and shaking.

The TV is lighting up the room, but Y/N doesn’t dare putting on the sound, she prefers looking at the lips of people moving inside the box, instead of being cut open by the words and sounds.

She’s not in bad term with the squadron. They’re all very sympathetic, but they all know each other, pretty well, and she never tried to overcome the feeling that bloomed in her head every time she wasn’t sharing their jokes.

They’re good people, but they’re not hers.

It’s not a problem though. She’s alright on her own, she got this, right?

« Did she respond yet? » Asks Phoenix, and her brows furrowed.

« Nope, she hasn’t even open the text, » speaks Bradley.

The woman sighs and looks by the window.

« I hope she’s okay, it’s a tough one she pulled up there, I would have been terrified. » speaks Payback with a concerned look at Bradley’s phone.

Bradley doesn’t respond, because he hopes he isn’t right, he doesn’t wanna be.

« Did you go to see at her flat? » Says Jake, drying his hair.

« We don’t have her address. »

« It’s in her file. » says the other pilot.

« We can ask Maverick to give it to us? » speaks Bradley, suddenly very hopeful.

« Just go check on her, because I don’t think your girl is that tough. » speaks Jake again.

Bradley doesn’t react on the nickname of Y/N, he would be stupid to pay attention to that when his thoughts have all been for her since they left the carrier.

He has a soft spot for her, doesn’t know why her, and he doesn’t care, he just knows that the pilot is everything he admires, isn’t and wants at the same time, and the clash of all of that, his admiration, respect and attraction, made a pretty intense cocktail in his head. But right now, there is worry, because as much as he likes to think of her like the best human being he knows, fearless and cunning, she’s not that tough.

She’s not that tough.

She can’t be.

It’s a full “she cannot” because there must be something that she fails to do, and Bradley just hope it’s not this one.

So he does call Maverick, who does give the address to him, and ten minutes later, he’s in his car, driving to the complex she lives in.

He struggles a bit to find the door number in between all the similar looking corridors but does manage to knock on what he thinks of as the right one.

Y/N jumps, startled by a knock on her door. It’s usually some people mistaking her door for the one at the end of the corridor, that’s a bit too far to see clearly.

She goes on wobbly legs to peak through the hole, and her whole body seize. It’s Bradshaw.

He’s in front of her door, and she reeks, everything is dark and she stinks tobacco.

Fuck.

She opens the door slightly and slides her face in the crack.

« Hi. » Her voice is hoarse and she looks horrible.

Bradley looks surprised and, at once, his face contorts and Y/N dreads his next words.

« We were worried, you didn’t answer the messages of any of us, did we do something wrong? » He asks so politely that she wants to cry.

No of course not, I’m just stupid and scared, please go away, you don’t want to see me like this as I’m barely keeping my head above the water.

« No, everything is fine. It’s just… my batterie died and, I lost my charger. I just have to look a bit for it, that’s nothing. »

Her smile is shy and her eyes keeps peeping everywhere but in his.

Bradley Bradshaw is not an idiot, his gaze wanders behind her shoulder and his mind stops racing at the second.

He sees the doors closed, the blanket on the floor, the big glass of water full of ice cubes. He knows all of this. Because he went through it too.

« Y/N? » He cuts her rambling and stares right at her eyes.

She feels uncomfortable but manage to hold the eye contact, hoping it would make him go away faster.

« Yeah? »

« I think you’re not doing okay Y/N. »

His words seem to surprise her, snapping her out of her numb state.

« I think, you’re far from fine Y/N. »

He keeps calling her name, softly, patiently, and she can feel her nose burning and the back of her eyes getting hotter and wetter. She swallows hardly, opens her mouth, but no words come out.

Bradley’s heart ache at her distressed eyes and the new shine of tears.

« Did you take a shower? »

Y/N knows there’s no judgment in his questions but her mind stutters at the idea. It’s disgusting.

She shakes her head.

His eyes wander on her naked collar and he see the sheen of sweat.

« Did you eat something? »

His voice is still concerned, but neutral, soft on her ears, and she’s surprised for a second, to realise that his voice is the first thing she heard since she left the carrier, and that she’s has not been cut open by the sound of it.

She just brings her hand to her stomach and shake her head again.

Bradley knows the knot in the stomach, the feeling of being so full that food doesn’t have its place.

« How long it’s been since you last slept? »

This is the last blow she needs to feel the tears roll down her cheek, her eyes flee his gaze and she swallows hardly.

« Two days. »

And Bradley feels his heart cracks a bit more at the strangled voice. Two days since she last slept.

She smells like sweat and exhaustion, her hair are tied in a hair claw, tightly pressed to her head, only a few wet strands escaping its hold, at the base of her neck and on her forehead.

She’s in a cotton pant, some pyjama’s, with a white tank top. She’s barefoot and suddenly, Bradley remembers what Maverick did to him when he was in that state, and he’s sure it’s going to work.

« We’re in a house for two weeks, so we could all be together, because you’re not the only one feeling that way, but being together helps. »

She doesn’t move, Bradley knows she wants to cry, but she doesn’t want to lose control. Not now, she’s not ready.

« So here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to put on some clothes in a bag, you’re going to put on your shoes and we’re going to leave. »

He speaks slowly, to let it sink in her, and Bradley feels a bit underwhelmed by how unresponsive she is. She just nods and leave the door the door open as she heads toward her room.

He can hear fabric being ruffled and he opens the windows. The air is cold outside, the weather is stormy and heavy clouds are weighting on San Diego. The wind is suddenly engulfing itself in the flat and it blows some ash off the ash tray. The smell of tobacco is harsh on his nose but nothing comes to his mind, it’s like his senses are disconnected from his head.

So he opens the windows, one by one, and keep the blinds down so no one can look in the appartement.

He hears her steps on the floor before he sees her, and without a second look, he turns off the TV and brings her to the door.

He holds his hand out for the keys and close the flat.

The walk to his car is silent and Y/N doesn’t speak, doesn’t radiate anything, it’s the waiting. She does not exist here, she doesn’t fight, she’s just on hold.

Bradley doesn’t want to bring her to the house right now before doing what he has in mind.

He knows she won’t like it but she’ll thank him later.

He parks the car in front of the beach and Y/N does not question it.

He exits the car and she copies him, without a word.

They arrived quickly on sand, and Bradley heads, determined, to the water. Y/N walks a bit quicker to catch up with him but she doesn’t seem to really think about anything.

She doesn’t notice him stepping out of his sneakers and doesn’t see him walking behind her.

What she does notice is how she’s is tossed on his shoulder, and for a second she’s tense, before trying to wiggle a bit.

« What are you doing? Rooster, Rooster what are you doing?! »

She’s getting stressed and starts wriggling harder on his shoulder, he has to reach the water quicker. His steps are getting wider and his arms tightens around her, he feels the water on his socked feet, and he feels a harsh shudder coursing his body with how freezing the water feels.

Good.

His mind is on autopilot and he can hear the surprise, the stress, the anxiety pulsing in each one of her words asking him what’s happening.

He doesn’t answer and for a second, Y/N thinks he’s going to kill her.

When the water is crashing on his waist, Bradley grips her waist and shoulder firmer and Cole’s breath hitched when she feels his fingers digging in her flesh. It’s not pleasant.

Suddenly, he’s yanking her off him and plunging her in the freezing water.

Her breath is knocked out of her lungs, her whole-body screams and the sensation is overwhelming, it’s so aggressive and brutal that her mind shutdown.

She can’t hear it any thoughts anymore, her head is empty, the only existing thing is her body fighting the petrifying feeling of cold.

Her head is under water and she can’t think of it, she just knows she has to breath. Her hands reach outside the water and Bradley pulls her to the surface. But he does not get her out of the water, he just let her push her face to the surface, but the rest of her body is submerged.

She can see his face, it’s calm, closed, waiting for something, and as her head is still in water, her eyes look at the sky.

Her head is empty. She cannot wrap it around anything. It’s empty. Her breathing starts to regulate and she can almost feel her body getting washed by the current and the salt.

Her hand is still tightly attached to his arm, but Bradley doesn’t shake it off, her ears are underwater, and except the purring sound of the ocean, she can’t hear anything.

She feels her muscles relaxing and she floats, mindlessly in the water, everything is soft on her body, on her ears, her head is cleaned.

His hands are keeping her under the water, but Y/N can’t feel anything anymore. Her eyes reach out for his and suddenly, he’s pinching her nose. She opens her mouth to breath in and doesn’t question him when for the second time, he forces her body underwater.

Her eyes closes and the cold ends. She doesn’t feel her skin anymore, but she does feel her inside starts freeze, her muscles wake up after the relaxing they needed, and she starts to shake from the inside.

Her body is reaching for heat, and Bradley instinctively understand it when Y/N’s hand flattened on the warm skin of his arm.

He pulls her slowly out of the water and on her feet.

She’s soaked, dripping continuously, he brushes a bit her hair out of her face and waits for her breathing to find its pace again.

Her tank top is sticking to her skin, to her breast and she would usually feel exposed, but right now, nothing comes to their mind, Bradley is half in the water and Y/N feel her skin prickled with the harsh wind on her.

« You okay? He asks, cautiously leaving a hand on her shoulder. »

She nods before coughing a bit and breathing in deep.

« Yeah. »

« I know what it’s like, and it’s a good way to stop it. We’re going to the house now. »

She nods and follow him in the humid sand, catching his shoes as he passes by them, and climb in the car.

He’s damping the seat, just as she is, but Bradley doesn’t seem to mind. The ride is silent and Y/N can feel true sensation now, the numbness has disappeared, leaving place to confusing feeling.

The house is big and white, it looks like something Y/N could call home.

« The others know what you’re going through, just like I do, no need to feel ashamed, you have a place in this house, just as much as me or Natasha, it’s your house too okay? »

His voice isn’t comforting, but it’s clear and safe, and Bradley knows he’s being neutral but he doesn’t wanna imprint any emotions on Y/N, he needs her to get in touch with hers and then they’ll see how it’ll go.

She nods and climbs out of the car.

Everyone is in the kitchen, drinking beers and as soon as her soaked figure enters the house, all eyes are on her.

She disposes her shoes in the entrance, next to the many pairs already presents.

Phoenix is the first one to hug her, even though she’s wet.

« It’s good to see you. »

Her voice is soft and comforting, and her hug is strong and engulf Y/N, who hugs back.

Next is Payback, Fanboy, Coyote, Bob and Jake, with his strong hand squeezing her shoulder.

It anchors her.

« I’ll show you the house. » speaks Bradley suddenly, and Y/N does not understand why it feels like everything is withdrawing themselves from around her.

She nods and follows him.

« There’s a bed left in the room I have, it’s yours. »

She nods again and when she enters the bedroom, she takes a discreet look at his bed. It’s made, some clothes are sprawled on it and laying on the floor next to the black bag who’s laying at the end of it.

« I know you didn’t take many clothes, back there, if you need something, just go through my stuff and take what you need. »

Everything he’s saying to her feels calculated and yet bored, and she doesn’t know if she’s bothering him or not, but she can’t bring herself to care right now, she just wanna take a shower.

« I’ll go take a shower. »

« Okay, I’ll be downstairs. »

« Oh, and Bradley? »

He turns to her, eyebrows high.

« Thank you. I needed that. »

He nods and offers her a discreet smile.

The shower is quick and Y/N is almost surprised when she doesn’t feel the anxiety coming back, she’s calm, and mostly drained, the night has fall on the house and some little lights are on.

The atmosphere is cosy and Y/N is surprised to see that they’re all bundled up in the couch, snuggling all together, covered in plaids.

Her hair is wet, and she’s quite sure she looks like a clown in her leggings and that big hoodie of Bradley. She’s got his big socks on her feet, and she pulls quietly a chair next to the sofa until she hears someone tutting her.

She raises her head and Natasha is motioning her to come under the plaid next to her. Y/N obeys and goes to bring her knees to her chest, making sure to covers herself entirely.

The movie starts soon after and she cannot help but risk a glance at them, they look tired, some even exhausted. Bob and Fanboy are at the other end of the couch, Coyote and Bradley have their feet sprawled on the coffee table and Jake and Natasha are next to Y/N, and she thinks she can almost see Jake’s hands on Phoenix’s thigh.

She smiles and eyes the movie again.

The plot doesn’t interest her that much, and she doesn’t even see herself falling asleep. Natasha sees it but doesn’t comment, letting her rest against the armrest, curled up in the corner.

She does warns Bradley with a little motion of her head and smiles when she sees the gaze of Bradley softening.

Payback and Fanboy are the first to go, bidding goodnight to everyone, then Natasha and Jake, leaving Bob and Bradley on the couch and Y/N, asleep in a corner.

The movie is still playing, yet, somehow, Bradley looks more fascinated by the way his socks flop on Y/N’s feet.

Bob just stares at them, how Bradley doesn’t do a single thing to approach her, he’s just there, from afar, watching over her.

« For fuck’s sake, Bradley, just do something. » speaks Bob, impatient as he disappears in the staircase.

_______________________________________________

#bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun fic #top gun imagine #top gun fluff #top gun x reader #top gun movie #bradley bradshaw fanfiction

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introsquirrel · 1 year

Text

Anyway, I wanna reiterate that I missed ONE dose, THREE DAYS AGO, and have been taking it regularly since. So far I have had to deal with chronic dehydration, the worst flu-like symptoms I've EVER had in my life, migraines, brain zaps, extreme dizziness, waking up repeatedly during the night and having to change all my clothes because they are soaked through with sweat, nausea, and shadow people.

Now im crying because I keep thinking about tripping over the low gates around the house and how easy it would be to trip on them then fall and it would hurt and for some reason that is making me sob???

This is going to last 1 to 2 weeks?????

I am so cold and then I am drenched in sweat an hour later and this SUCKS.

Anyway, venlafaxine, look up withdrawal symptoms and look how many treatments involve taking vitamins, which I can't do, because vitamins have adverse reactions for me and will make all the emotional symptoms worse. Awesome!!

-100/10, no stars, who thought this was a good drug to give to "can't remember to put on clothes unless there's a system in place" disease in small doses, and "memory proven to worsen over time" disease in larger doses. There should be a large auxiliary sticker on the side of the rx bottle saying "if you forget to take even one dose med, prepare for the worst 2 weeks of your life"

This SUCKS because this med has been working for me and this making me consider diving back into the fucked up rollercoaster ride that is testing new antidepressants.

Okay, rant over. Not looking for advise btw, just wanted to rant. I'm on mobile so I have NO idea how to hide this under a read more

So, uh ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Happy holidays!!

#adhd #depression #mental health #drugs #medication #effexor #venlafaxine #toro speaks #toro rants

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dancingbabya-notes · 2 years

Text

Summer windows

<-•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•->

Characters: Yamanaka Ino, Kamisato Ayaka, Fushiguro Megumi, Nishinoya Yuu, Uraraka Ochaco, Xiao, Levi

<-•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•->

The first week has already started and I’m already losing steam lol.

I’m sorry if I wasn’t clear about how this worked. But if anyone wants to suggest a character for the week or a specific number if you can get that to me before Saturday I’ll be willing to do it.

There will probably be repeat characters because this is 105 prompts. But I‘ll try to post my prospective list of characters if I get a lot of requests.

<-•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•->

1: Ice cream

Ino (modern)

“Raindrops keep falling on my head keep fallin…” the song you could never quite find the beginning nor the end of repeats over and over as you mumble keeping tune with your steps.

“Y/N, get out of the rain!”

Your body is yanked under one of the many awnings scattered around to protect passersby from the elements on occasion. Gripping you by the collar of your shirt and pouting was Ino.

“What are you thinking? You’re gonna catch a summer cold walking around like this,” she scolds.

She wasn’t wrong. You were drenched from head to toe, even your shoes were full of water and it would take at least a week for them to dry out completely— though they’ll never fit the same again. Looking at her through your messy locks you couldn’t help the smile as she tries to dry you off with the small handkerchief she has.

“Ino, I’m fine. I bought you some ice cream.” You produce the double wrapped bag from your hand with a lazy smile.

“Ice cream in this weather?” She groans.

“We can eat it after I take a bath. I’m gonna need one. So will you if you stay out too long,” you chuckle ushering her along.

Back inside her family’s flower shop that was now her flower shop. As you two walk in she huffs.

“You’re telling me you walked to the train station in the rain because you remembered I said something about ice cream?”

“Rain or shine for my queen.” You smile before kissing her on the forehead. “Come on I’m stronger than you think.”

You caught a cold that night. Fever of thirty-eight degrees. Ino was sure you were delusional, but the ice cream helped cool you down at least.

2: Flip flop

Ayaka

So much time had passed since you arrived in the world of Teyvat you weren’t even sure how to justify the passing of time. If it hadn’t been for the kind people at the Kamisato estate you would have been on the street at the mercy of the shogun before the traveler passed through. Now you were kind of learning how to use a sword from your employer.

“Y/N, you’ve learned rather quickly.” Praises the man next to you he wasn’t even looking winded while you heaved for air.

Kamisato Ayato is like a picture of perfection and grace.

Sweat streams down your body as you sheath your blade and try to defend yourself. “Quickly? I can barely remember how much mora to use, if it wasn’t for Thoma I’m sure I’d be robbed blind regardless of this quick learning.”

“Y/N! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Ayaka, his younger sister, and head for the Kamisato estate, your new charge.

Though you were sure this was a glorified position considering the young woman could very much hold her own. Using the cloth you carry to quickly gather your sweat you couldn’t help the smile at her appearance.

“Yes, Miss Ayaka?”

She almost pouted but possibly upon noticing the male behind you she gathers her composure. “Ah, hello brother. I was about to go into the city with Y/N.”

You didn’t remember any plans to go out but you right yourself and tried to return to a more composed state.

“Y/N, just finished training you could take Thoma.”

“No. Y/N will come with me.”

Even you had to take a double-take. The younger Kamisato sibling was always calm and quiet. But she just rose her voice in front of her brother, she even failed to be stern with you when you would tease her.

Looking up you flash a smile. “I’m fine, this is the purpose of all that training. Miss Ayaka has been helping me get a better handle on everything.”

Not even giving you a chance to speak Ayaka drags you along to the estate entrance. You took this moment to lead her toward the structure you and only two others seemed to notice. Pressing your hand to it while holding Ayaka you moved from the Kamisato Estate to Araumi.

Something you hadn’t accounted for: how fucking high it was and possibly the time it would take to get down.though regardless the idea was there.

“Y/N, you’re holding on rather tight,” she laughs.

“My apologies, heights.”

She seemed to look at you dumbfounded. “But the estate overlooks.”

“I don’t think about that too hard, I found a dirt path that I walk down.” You quickly add. “We should go down, I know you said you wanted to go to

She cuts you off. “No.”

You pause as you were about to look for the safest way down to the large pink trees without just jumping down.

“I mean Araumi is lovely.” She smiles.

“Come on then. I wanted to explore everywhere with you first. I’m not gonna flip flop between guides.”

“Flip flop?” She asks as you look at her waiting for her to jump down.

You nod. “Flip flop kind of like how fish do when you catch them. Or a specific kind of shoe that was a terrible invention.”

“A shoe?”

“Yeah, people wear em to protect their feet from the sand before going into the ocean, but if you wear em when your feet are wet you can cause more harm than help.” You explain. “Kind of glad they don’t exist here.”

She laughs and you stop and look at her while she does. “You say the oddest of things Y/N.”

“I’m your clown milady, I am here to make you laugh.” You chuckle. ‘Because it’s beautiful.’

3: Ramune

Megumi

Frowning, you definitely were making the ugliest face ever because you were trying not to cry. This wasn’t even something to cry over but it was making you upset. No air con in your apartment so to cool off you bought some Ramune and were about to drink some if the damn marble would fall.

“Y-y/N?” The voice was hesitant as a hand wrapped around yours.

“I’m not crying.” You state defensively.

“You’re not crying.” He nods in agreement. Megumi was used to your logic by now, he learned not to question people's train of thought after he met his classmates. “Do you need help?”

“No.” You look away pouting as tears start to fall.

In actuality, you lacked the finger strength to open the soda for lack of a better phrase. The other problem, if you changed your hold, was the pressure release, sometimes you couldn’t help jumping or dropping what was in your hands when that sound hit your ears.

“Y/N, I can open the drink for you.” Megumi took the bottle with a sigh.

“But it’s mine, I wanna do it.” You whine.

“It’s gonna get hotter if you throw a temper tantrum.” Megumi frowns and you swallow any counterargument.

Hearing the sound of the soda opening Megumi quickly pushes the bottle away, because it must have been shaken up too much, the fizz and soda were gushing out. Seeing Megumi’s disgusted look from the sticky soda made you laugh.

“Oh so now you’re all better?” He huffs before reaching for you.

You didn’t make much room to move or even a moment to process as his hands grab your face. “Megu!”

“It’s fine if you laugh at me as long as you’re smiling dummy.” He kisses you effectively making your brain short circuit.

4: Shorts

Nishinoya

You woke up at the entrance to your apartment. Body aching, at least you had been lucid enough to close and lock the door. Wouldn’t want any creeps coming in while you tried to recover from jet lag in the most cramped location in the house.

Fishing your phone out of your jacket pocket you frown at the time. Noon, followed by several messages. Hesitantly you peel yourself off the floor and scramble to find clean clothes.

“How much longer do I have?” You mumble to yourself as you try not to run into anything.

This was why you never made plans with friends because you would have to scramble and power through jet lag as if it was just a bad hangover just to be social.

Eventually, you find something that looks put together in the mirror. So you leave to meet your friends.

“Y/N, you look comfy. Did you wake up like an hour ago?”

Giving them a salute you tried to nurse your first cup of coffee for the day. “Why today?”

“It’s the blind date day.”

Your coffee went back into the cup as you were woken up by that word slap. “What?”

“Yeah, remember? We meet here? Then you wait for your date.”

Regrettably, you were four train stops away from your apartment so you couldn’t go home and change, now you had to wait for a blind date in laundry day clothes.

After maybe twenty minutes you were sure he’d stood you up. But before you could run away to go home and sleep until the next gathering someone sat in front of you.

“I’m so sorry, I got back to Japan two days ago and the jet lag is so annoying.” The rushed voice states as he bows to you.

Blinking you give a slight chuckle. “To be honest I got back last night and I’m still recovering.”

“I like your shorts.” He smirks.

“Short…” you look down and your face goes white. “These are my big brother’s old shorts, I didn’t even realize I still had them.”

It was almost as if his smile got wider. “I went to Kurosuno.”

“What really? I wanted to go but we moved and I didn’t get the chance,” smacking the head gently you give a nervous smile. “My name is L/N Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nishinoya Yuu.”

5: Float

Uraraka

Right now you weren’t sure if you should laugh or try your best to help the awkward girl.

“You know for someone with a floating quirk, it’s a wonder you don’t know how to float on water.” You manage as you pull yourself out of the pool to watch her struggle to climb back into the tube.

Her hair was sticking to her face because she kept falling in. “My quirk is making things float. It doesn’t exactly work for certain things.”

Splashing her you sigh. “Want some help?”

“No.” The immediate answer was a bit shocking Uraraka hadn’t gotten loud with you outside of work.

So instead you gently push the tub from under her and she frowns standing up. “That’s low even for you Y/N.”

“Ooo, I’m so scared. If you had gotten hurt I could help don’t worry too much,” you roll your eyes. “And I know when to stop messing around. Come here.”

She pouts but does as you ask standing in front of you.

“Arms around my neck.” You order, holding your arms up prepared to hold her.

“I’m not heavy.”

“I never said you were.”

Uraraka seemed skeptical as your arm hooked under her legs. Picking her up out of the water slightly. You could feel how nervous she was.

“Ochaco, look at me.” You urge as you hold her tight.

“What?” Her brows furrowed as she looked up at you.

Kissing her for just a second you couldn’t see her face match the sunburn she will eventually get.

“Huh?”

“Relax, that’s the most important part of floating. I’m gonna hold you up okay?”

She gives a slight nod as you do just that. Now more relaxed you didn’t narrate the rest pulling yourself back onto the edge as quietly as you could manage.

“What are you gonna do next?”

“You’re floating baby, you did it.” You smirk. “Works really got you riled up, Huh?”

6: Wind

Xiao

Leaving your home country was hard. You didn’t even get a choice in the matter. Liyue was beautiful though, and though only due to pure coincidence you took up residence near the Wangshu inn. Because you worked there.

“Y/N, did you bring the supplies?” The receptionist asks as you pull the crates along.

“Yeah, I got them. The merchant said some things couldn’t be found and we are short one crate.” You wanted to finish work now. It was far too hot to be doing work like this and you felt for anyone doing harder things.

Just as you push the crates into their place you were thankful that it was drawing dark.

“Here, we have some extra things. See you in two days.” The new chef gave you leftover food and waved you off.

Finally, your work was done for the day just in time. Choosing to save your spoils for your house you scurry home.

Kicking off your shoes you put a bit of food for your parents and sister. “I hope you’re all well.”

Just as you considered digging in you heard the fuurin chime and you look to your open window. Perched on the sill was your uncanny guest, a Yaksha.

“Hello, would you like some almond tofu? I’m getting used to the taste but I think I’d rather you eat it,” you offer the bowl to the male and he was about to slide onto the floor next to you but he quickly throws his sandals by your own.

Dropping his mask you raise a brow. “Still not a fan of speaking I see.”

The silence only confirmed your conclusion. This only pushes to remind you of the silence you’d face. So why not fill it yourself.

“I hope you’ve been well, it’s been getting hotter. I noticed that my fuurin rings when you’re near or maybe it’s just the natural wind,” you manage as you take a short break.

Xiao eyes you as he savors the meal you’d just given him.

You had already finished. Working definitely made food taste better. “You know you’re welcome in my house any time. It’s been rather lonely here in Liyue. I like it here though, when the Shogun order started they messed up my house. But I’m sure it was shut bandits posing as soldiers.”

“The journey here was a bit arduous. But worth it in the end.” You teach for the hat you wore but stop yourself. “Maybe if my family had been like me they would have survived the journey here too. But alls well that ends well right.”

“Solitude can be a battle all its own. Though you do not need to keep giving me almond Tofu.”

You raise a brow. “I like chewy things better, maybe dango. But Almond tofu is a staple here, I’d rather see someone who enjoys it eating it.”

Pausing for a moment you smile at him.

“You know my parents said they found me on a windy day, and where ever you go the wind follows. So don’t forget you’re welcome any time.”

“I don’t know what you mean about this term of enjoyment—

Cutting him off you shrug. “Don’t even deny it. The Wangshu inn always has some ready for you. Maybe I’ll learn how to make it for you one day.”

7: Refreshing

Leviathan

Opening the door you groan trying to grab the attention of the person sitting at his desk.

“Levi, I need help.”

He whipped around a bit confused. “What’s wrong wouldn’t you usually ask someone else for help?”

“I mean it depends on the situation, but you’re the only one I can think to help me,” you mumble holding your hands behind your back.

“What is it?”

“So there’s a contest for the idol I got tickets to see, you and the person you want to go with you take pictures together. But it’s my first live event and I’m not sure how to…” you trail off as he reaches behind you taking the tickets from your hand.

He reads it and thinks for a minute. “We have three weeks that’s just enough time to get anything off Akuzon.”

“Really?” You smile.

“Yeah, I do this all the time. What’s the prize of the contest?”

“Poster, and a signed polaroid.” You state sheepishly. “I know she’s not your cup of tea but I wanted you to come with me.”

Levi laughs as he pats your head. “It’s kind of refreshing seeing you stress over something like this. You’re always so calm.”

You gape. “What gave you the idea that I’m calm? Life is just hectic, and I think I’ve gotten used to everyone’s antics by now.”

Prompt list <-•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•-> Next

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234esdfdf · 2 years

Text

Spanish Scribbles (1)

?? / ?? ·•●•· I just woke up from what I thought was a nightmare… but it's very real. Kale isn't here, whoever are the ones I fled with are gone. Probably dead. I can barely remember what happened.

The State we were at got flooded with those things, we got separated -and I swear I won't die until I figure out where he is. Or at least if he's still alive -is this the moment when one is supposed to pray? Even us who don't believe end up trying to contact a higher power as if it's going to do anything to help, like it wasn't the same thing that sent this disgusting illness on us. I still remember lashing out at that woman back then because of the way she said she'd pray for me, but I don't feel bad about it. No 'gods' ever helped me -I owe it all to my brother and to him.

I'll stay on our frequency… and if I'm never to find him again, or if he's dead, I'll continue living just to keep his memory alive. I'm glad I got to take this picture of us to keep -I wish I would have gotten to keep the other ones too.

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End of June ·•●•· *Javier plopped down on the couch at his new shelter, sighing loudly as he could finally safely smoke. He placed the cigarette in between his lips and lighted it, taking in a long drag and holding the smoke in for a few seconds before slowly blowing it out.*

As my luck would have it, the first place I step into isn't the best. Lesson learnt -avoid the Syn building, avoid some guy called Ivo, and maybe remember that painted skulls aren't just a little art gimmick sometimes. Dennis told me that guy lost someone... we are in the same situation. I guess that's the only reason why I will be able to forgive. Or forget only.

*Messing around in his fanny pack, he dropped its contents on the table. He reached for his wallet, taking out a plastic baggie and staring at its contents -as much as he tried to stay away from cocaine, some of it always ended up in his pocket somehow. The temptation to try it again was always there... but it'd ruin all the effort Kale and him put into getting him away from it. To stay strong, he took out the picture of them again and stared at it. Shutting his eyes and frowning in frustration, he rubbed his eyes as he felt himself tear up and and sighed.*

I'm gonna have to figure out how to be accepted into whichever groups there are around here. So far Dennis and his friend look like decent people. I'm gonna have to ask them if they can let me use their radio, if they have of those huge ones. Until I figure out anything about him, I won't stop sending out messages.

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The next morning ·•●•· He'd never really gotten his closure, only the comfort of knowing he wasn't hated. He'd been so close to it, finding out a hidden letter his brother had sent him thanks to Kale's perseverance on breaking that security door down. His other half had investigated, figured the code to the safe out, and agreed on going to a dangerous city with him to understand what was going on. If only they hadn't been interrupted, he might have been able to stop part of the nightmares he still had -it never is long enough to recover from some things. And he hoped another person wasn't added onto the ones to grief for.

That night he was drenched in cold sweat, twisting and turning as he relived the moment he'd felt most rage at so far -a knife lifting and sinking into someone's skin until they didn't make a sound anymore and the only noise was the crunching of the clothes and the skin. The sudden gurgles, the groans, the way he'd been first exposed to the zombies -the person he'd just murdered standing back up as he was still shocked, the way they'd tried to kill him back... that moment would never leave his brain. Or his dreams.

*Javier woke up gasping, opening his eyes and staring straight ahead in a daze, and quickly turned to his side to try to sink himself into the person he shared a bed for so long after some days of having been separated... it was frustrating. He teared up, holding onto his pillow, and grit his teeth hard enough for his jaw to hurt. His chest hurt from not being able to look for comfort in him, being in a completely unknown territory. He lied down for a moment, allowing himself to shed a few frustrated tears, before standing up from bed to try to get a hold of Dennis or whoever lived at those houses. He didn't want to be alone -and he really needed to reach out for that person. It was still hard to get out of bed, but it had to be done.*

youtube

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July 7th, 1am ·•●•· Javier lied down after a long time of chopping trees, too tired to care too much about being soaked. His wet hair was all over his face, but he didn't bother to push it away again. Rain and thunder used to be great back when he had a home and company, when he could light the oven and spend the night talking -but everything was different now. Once again he found himself tearing up, taking the picture out to look at it. He reached over for the plastic baggie… and clutched it in his hand. He knew he had to be strong. But it was hard. He really couldn't manage on his own. Reaching out for his walkie-talkie, he tried to get some help. There was no way he'd be able to stand living like that for too long.

______________________________________________________________

?? / ?? ·•●•· There's no way to manage to find the strength to get out of bed. It's hard when you lose your everything. West Point… I have to figure out where it is. Apparently lots of people live there. If he is anywhere, he might be there too. I have to try. Even if I have to walk for miles. If he isn't there, there might be more of a chance to see each other again.

______________________________________________________________

youtube

#Youtube

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spikesbimbo · 3 years

Text

Pairing: ushijima x f!reader

Tags: housewife!reader, hurt/comfort, wall fucking, neglected reader, breeding kink, daddy kink, cockwarming

a/n: umm,... repost

Word count:1.2k

18+ Minors DNI

You'd never thought you'd be in this situation, going out of your way to get your husband's attention. To the point of wearing a cute little apron, barely there clothes, and purposely bending over in front of him while making you two dinner.

But something you should have expected was your husband not taking a hint, only being to understand with words. Leading him to say “are you feeling okay” immediately making you unsettled, why was it so hard for you to say what you wanted. How hard was it to tell your husband “hey i want your dick in me right now”. What man would say no to that?

Anxiety pooling up in you, letting the worse of the thoughts get into your head, thinking he doesn't want you because he's not attracted to you anymore, after 5 years of being together, two of them married. But what was going on in his head was him worrying if you were okay, never acting like this before, even having the audacity to put his hand on your head checking for a fever.

Tears start forming in your eyes, never feeling so belittled even though it was your fault, him rushing to cup your cheek thinking there was definitely something wrong with you, not knowing it was his, in your minds, fault.

“Are you okay love?” he softly says, which makes you fall apart, the tears from being so needy now running down your face.

He hesitates, not knowing what to do in this situation other than wipe the dramatic tears running down your face, causing you to feel even worse for making him put up with you like this. How selfish were you to act like this when your husband was working all day, proving for the both of you.

“Tell me what's wrong and i can fix it.” he said, always being reliable, taking responsibility into his own hands. That's one of the many things you loved about him, was that he would always take care of you, so why were you so afraid to say it? Was it the embarrassment of being this needy after not getting fucked for a week and half due to his team travelling? Acting like he was gone for a year at war or something.

All you had to do was ask. But you didn't want to burden him, today being the second day he's been home, still going to practice, but coming home to you every night. At this point you couldn't even get yourself off, crying quietly in the shower because “your fingers didn't feel the same as his”.

You turned your head up to his, looking him in the eyes, seeing him blurred but still being able to make out his handsome face. You try to build up to courage to tell him

“Have I been neglecting you?” he said, realizing the situation he had caused, that he let it get this far to the point where you were crying. “I'm sorry doll.” he continued, putting his lips on yours, working to fix the problem.

He moves you to the walk leaning you against it, you pushing deeper into the kiss, him deciding that you needed it here, right now. He moves one of his hands from your face down to your ass, breaking the kiss looking you in the eyes to see if you were sure that you wanted this, another thing you loved about him, always being a gentleman.

You respond by dragging him back in, nodding into the kiss, not wanting him to see your face be even more of a mess.

“please...daddy~” you moan out after he puts his thigh in between your legs, rubbing it how he knows you like.

“I got you love.” he says following through, as always. Pulling down those little shorts, that he was trying to control himself around, not realizing the reason you were doing it. Him not trying to hold back his groan seeing you weren't wearing any panties feeling how wet you were, fuck he messed up.

He remembers everything you tell him, from saying how he should make more noise when you to fuck, the complete silence being awkward, to you confessing your fantasies that he gladly went along with, as a good husband should.

“Please…” you start again grinding onto his clothed cock, drenching his shorts in your wetness. He moved his hand to your clit to which you shook your head in protest, not needing any prep just needing him inside you.

Luckily he wasn't as dense to your actions when you two were intimate, learning your body language quickly, understanding what you needed. He made his actions match his thoughts by dropping his shorts, freezing his cock, mouthwateringly hard, you whining at the sight of it.

He pushed you against the wall picking you up by your thighs, spreading them far apart enough to where he could fit in, not even needing to shove his way in due to your state.

“Fuck honey.” he groaned settling himself in you, your walls spasming around him ducking your head into his schedule, embarrassed that you already came from him just being inside you, something you loved so much, even him letting you keep it in you after you two finished.

He started thrusting into you, not being able to control himself after seeing you act like that. "you must've really needed me hmm?” he asks fucking you to the point where you couldn’t even respond if you wanted to, his cock focing its way into your cervix, making you gasp between your moans and whines.

“L-love you daddy” you whimper out, not wanting him to feel bad, continuing by pulling him in for a kiss, leaving you in a makeshift mating press, your legs being pushed up as far as they could so you could kiss him. Him reaching further, if even possible, into you.

“Mm sorry love, i won't leave you alone ever again” he stated, your foreheads barely touching, his sweat dripping onto your apron that was still on. The sight of him being so fucked out, making you clench around him.

“Fuck” he groans filling you up, after you mowhined out for him to cum in you, some of it escaping and dripping onto the floor, you following soon after seeing how worked up he got making you not even need to be touched anywhere else.

He continued thrusting into you after a short minute, wanting to please you, a physical way of saying i'm sorry. “Gonna give you a baby, then you won't be lonely anymore.” he groaned fucking his cum into you. You crying out at the thought, wanting him to stuff you even more full.

“please, please! ple-” you tried to say, coming out distorted, but he could read you. Him continuing leaning back to make you more comfortable, your legs haphazardly wrapped around his waist. Him abiding to your needs by cumming in you multiple times, while making you do the same.

You two sat on the table where the food you were making was sitting, now cold as hours went by, him not pulling out of you wondering if he was serious about what he said.

“toshi” you croaked out, your voice being long gone. “Can we wash up, i'm kinda hungry.” You asked, planning to get him to fuck you after you ate.

“Yeah love.” he said picking you up, still not pulling out for the sake of your sanity, and carrying you two to the bathroom where he would have a long drawn out talk with you, as always.

#respost #iykyk #ushijima smut #haikyuu smut #ushijima x reader #haikyuu x reader #wakatoshi x reader #wakatoshi smut #hq smut #hq x reader #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu drabbles #hq x you #haikyuu headcanons

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ppersonna · 3 years

Text

good for me | ksj - m

“ stay on the ground until your knees hurt. no more praying baby, imma be your preacher ” - church, chase atlantic

✹ summary- You’ve forgotten something very important and your husband, Seokjin, makes sure you never forget it again.

✹ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

✹ pairing- kim seokjin x reader

✹ word count- 2.3k

✹ genre- smut, pwp, no plot, you’d have to DIG for a plot, like............. thats all there is to it. there is nothing else.

✹ warnings- hard dom!seokjin, oral sex (m receiving), spanking, degredation, dirty talk, shower sex, established relationship,

✹ a/n- this has been in the drafts for some time. i debated posting it because it literally has no substance LMAOOOOO but hey fuck it. here’s some hard dom jin because 🥵 i needed it. thank u to @chimoona for her help and for my ladies @xjoonchildx @ladyartemesia @untaemedqueen always giving me the hype.

The best part of exercising is the shower afterwards.

Sure, you enjoy the benefits of cardio and weight training, but nothing ever feels as good as a hot steamy shower after you’re drenched in sweat.

It’s what you’re looking forward to as you climb out of your car and trudge your weary body to the front door.

It’s late in the evening now—Seokjin’s car is in the driveway next to yours, and you figure he must have returned home sometime while you were gone. You open the door and call out to your husband, alerting him to your return as you drop your keys onto the entryway table and kick off your gym shoes.

It’s quiet in the house, not a single reply from Seokjin, but you quickly dismiss it. He’s likely busy, or stepped outside to the backyard for a phone call.

It’s no matter. All you can think about is turning on the shower and stepping into the spray and allowing the shower to soothe away tension and wash away the slick.

Your body is sticky with sweat and the bra and legging combo you wore is an unattractive darker color from the moisture. You’re peeling off the clothes as you make your way upstairs towards your shared bedroom. The clothes land somewhere near the laundry basket—you don’t care where—and you’re completely naked by the time your feet touch the marble of the bathroom floor.

The muscles in your body relax the instant you turn the knobs of the shower to hot, as hot as you can make it. It takes a moment to warm up, and you generously use the time to roll out your sore muscles and gaze at your figure in the mirror.

There are still marks on your body from your last playtime with Jin.

Some nights, you have sex with him like a normal, married couple. Missionary, soft and gentle, plenty of emotion and sweet whispered words.

Other nights, however, you willingly allow the sadist in him to gratify the masochist in you. He takes control, demands submission, and you freely give.

Your time with your husband last night was the latter. He bent you over the bed and paddled your ass until you cried, and your pussy drooled onto the floor below you. He was relentless, powerful, and it made you putty in his hands. There was no one else on the earth you trusted more than Seokjin. You knew he would never intentionally hurt you in a way that didn’t bring you pleasure. And it made your desire for him burn even brighter.

The bathroom is steamy by the time you’ve finished checking out the delicious marks your husband left on you, and you slip into the shower with a grateful sigh. The pressure feels incredible on your muscles and you allow your eyes to close as you bask in the steam and heat.

The cascading water and intoxicating heat clouds your mind and you never notice the bathroom door open or the sound of clothing being removed. You’re so distracted that you never hear the glass door of the shower open.

And it’s too late now.

You’re instantly being pressed up against the cold tile of the bathroom, a hot and hard body behind you making you squeak in surprise.

Jin has joined you in the shower, and he’s pressed your chest to the cool wall and tangles his hands in your hair.

“Look what we have here,” he tuts. “Nice to see you showed up.”

You furrow your brow, confused on what he’s talking about. He plays with your hair as he continues to hold you against the wall, cheek turned and flat against the tile.

“Jin, wha—,” he cuts you off before you can finish.

“That’s not my name, baby doll.”

His voice is distinct from his usual.

This one radiates power. It oozes danger. And your cunt is already squeezing around nothing at the sound.

“S-sir,” you gasp. Your breathing is heavy, body overcome with desire.

“That’s a good girl,” he praises. He lets a free hand travel down your wet back towards your ass, where he cups a cheek in his hand delicately.

“Now, can my good girl tell me what she did wrong today?”

His hands rub the globe gently, and you shiver. His hands feel so strong, so ready to deliver the firm swats or gentle caresses you crave the most.

You’re racking your rattled brain as hard as you can, desperate to figure out what you’ve done wrong.

“I—I can’t remember,” you murmur.

He tsks, upset at your answer.

“You better start remembering, little one.”

His hand rubs at the skin of your ass once more, before he’s lifting his hand and bringing it back down onto your cheeks with a crack. Your body jolts in reply and the stinging of your buttocks travels straight to your core. A low whimper leaves your lips—a sound of brewing desire more than despair.

“Don’t you want to be my good girl?” He asks as he rubs the reddening mark. “Tell me what you’ve done wrong and you won’t be punished.”

You puff out a breath in frustration, unable to remember what you’ve done.

Jin notices and delivers another slap to your ass, this time on the opposite cheek, and you yelp.

“I-I,” you stutter, brain spinning desperately to remember what it is you’ve missed.

“If you’ve forgotten how to use your voice, then please, let’s put that mouth to use.”

He turns your body, your back now pressed against the tile where your tits once were. Your eyes widen. He looks like a fucking god. He’s wet and dripping from the spray of the shower, and his eyes burn like coals, stoked by his desire for you. He steps back from you, allows you to drink in his image pridefully.

His cock is rock hard, straining and thick against his abdomen. He doesn’t bother to touch it, doesn’t stroke or grasp it. His eyes are drilling holes into your own with intensity and you can feel your submissive nature begging you to kneel. It’s what he wants.

He knows you—knows you better than you likely know yourself. You’re lowering on to your knees with no thought, eyes fixated on his like he likes.

“No hands,” he speaks gently. “Dirty fucking whores don’t get to use their hands.”

His powerful hands grip your damp hair, gathering a bunch and bringing your face to the tip of his cock.

“You wanna suck daddy’s cock?” He asks, tone almost teasing. He rubs the head against your plump lips, allowing them to collect the generous pre-cum at the tip.

You nod, big simpering eyes peering up at him.

“Please, daddy,” you beg. “Let me suck your cock.”

He rubs your lips a few moments more, before grasping your jaw in his hands and prying your mouth open.

“Suck.”

His hips thrust forward and suddenly your mouth fills with his length. You almost gag, almost, but you squeeze your fists tight and will it away. Jin smirks as he sees the tears build in your eyes from the pressure and continues forward until his cock fills your entire throat.

“Oh fuck,” he sighs. “Look at you take it all like a practiced whore.”

He pulls out slowly, torturously calculated and measured, before he’s slamming his length back into your throat and starting a pace.

Your mouth becomes a simple vessel for him and his pleasure. You tuck your teeth in as best as you can as he fucks your throat, cheeks hollowing as you attempt to tighten the space in your mouth, and lave your tongue over any inch of his cock you can find.

He keeps his hand on your head, grip tightening steadily on your hair.

“Shit,” he puffs a breath. “Best fucking cocksleeve.”

His head tips back as he enjoys the slurping, sloppy sounds your mouth is making. Saliva is sliding down the corners of your mouth where it gathers and drips to the wet marble floor below.

Jin delights in the way you submit to him. He feels powerful, feels like a god. He loves you, every single aspect of you in the bedroom and outside of it. And he absolutely loves it when you’re on your knees, begging like a good girl. So good for him, even when you fuck up.

He peers back down at you, pushing more hair out of your face tenderly while he fucks your willing mouth.

“Mm, this is where you belong, isn’t it? This is what this hot little mouth is meant for.”

He punctuates his sentences with quicker, rougher snaps of his hips that force his cock to the very back of your throat. Your eyes spill over with tears and your throat tightens in reaction, squeezing the head of Jin’s cock.

“Ah, fuck yes, choke on it.”

He’s absolutely enamored by the way you work harder, mouth bobbing along with his thrusts. You get off on this just as much as he does—you love to be degraded and treated like a whore in the bedroom while he treats you like the queen you are outside of it.

His queen, bowing in front of him to give him pleasure through her submission.

It’s one of the many reasons he loves you so fucking much.

He can feel his stomach tightening, core clenching as his orgasm builds. Simply watching your tears, mixed with the shower water slip down your face has his balls and heart yearning.

“You ready to swallow my cum, doll?” He asks, fully knowing the answer.

Your impossibly beautiful and big eyes widen even further and Jin stifles a groan at the sight of you, the definition of submission personified.

“Mm, I know you are.” He pumps harder into your gaping mouth, groaning at how wet and hot it is despite your aching jaw. “You love swallowing cum. It’s your favorite meal of the day.”

He’s gritting his teeth as his orgasm becomes more and more apparent and you bob your head earnestly to bring him off. You easily accommodate him without your hands, and he swells with pride at how good you are for him.

“That’s my perfect little slut,” he grits. He’s staving off the orgasm as long as he can, wants to soak in every moment of you gagging on his length.

Your hand seeks purchase on Jin’s thick thighs, holding on for balance as your head bobs quickly and your throat works overtime to accommodate his length. Another quick glance up to him is all it takes for him to fall to pieces. He can never resist the way you look at him with a mouth full of cock.

His cock pulses with each groan and you whine cutely as he fills your mouth with his seed. You slow your movements and stay put, staring at him as his cock twitches.

He gently pulls his spent cock from your lips, panting as he attempts to right himself.

“Open up,” he demands in a gentle voice.

You’re compliant—mouth opening to display Seokjin’s thick cum pooled on your tongue. It makes him grin.

“Nasty,” he winks. “Swallow, my love.”

He rests a hand on your throat, wants to feel as you swallow his seed down. It makes his cock twitch back to life, ready to go again and again. It doesn’t matter how long he’s been married to you—he’ll always find the stamina for a round two.

“Are you ready to discuss what happened today?”

Jin holds out his hand for you, which you take gratefully to stand up inside the shower.

“Yes, please.”

Jin wraps his arms around you and pulls you under the spray of the shower. He places gentle and soft kisses up and down your neck as his hands slither up and down your wet body.

“What’s the date today?” He whispers as he kisses the shell of your ear.

“It’s the eighth--,” you start, before your eyes wide. “Oh, my god.”

He smiles and pulls back to look into your eyes.

“It is the eighth, yes, and?”

“It’s our wedding anniversary.”

Your heart sinks. In the hustle and bustle of the day, it slipped from your mind of your anniversary. He had planned an entire evening to spend together, and you had forgotten all about it, abandoned the plans for a night at the gym.

“Oh, my god, Jin, I am so sorry. I totally forgot.”

Jin kisses at your face, cupping your cheeks with his hands.

“Baby, it's okay,” he assures as he kisses your shower-slick lips. “I’m not mad. The steaks are a little cold, but…”

You cling harder to your husband.

“God, I’m an idiot. I owe you!”

He chuckles in your ear as he wraps his arms tight around you. Anniversary or not, Seokjin is in love with you. And he can forgive a simple mistake. Especially when you make up for it so sweetly.

“You’re not an idiot, baby. You can show me how sorry you are tonight when you’re tied up to the bed and taking my cock, hm?”

You lick your lips, already excited for the delicious punishments Jin must have planned for you.

“I love you,” you murmur, standing on tip-toes to press another kiss to his full lips.

“Mmm, and I love you,” he replies. “And you’re going to be good for me tonight, aren’t you baby?”

Jin is turning off the shower as you nod.

He gathers a towel and steps out, drying every inch of your body before guiding you to the bedroom.

“Show me.”

#bts smut #seokjin smut #jin smut #kim seokjin smut #kim seokjin #ficswithluv #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fic #bts fics

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byuntrash101 · 3 years

Text

Incubus: Coming of Age (Part 2)

Pairing: Incubus!Baekhyun x You

Genre: fantasy, smut 🖤

Tags: plot (typical me), demon boy (incubus), monstrous cock (like ya ain't ready), breeding kink, oral (f & m), overstimulation, breath play, dirrrty talk and more~

Raiting: 18+ (21+ it's even steamier than the 1st one 🙈)

Word count: 5.7k (the bock got me inspired haha)

Summary: Baekhyun left an indelible mark on you that one night. But the thing is it was a year ago! and that damn demon never came back... Maybe you should just forget about him... Well only maybe of course ;)

Part 1

General Masterlist

Hey guys this is the final part of this very steamy two shot ^^ I hope you guys will also like it. Please tell me what you think ^^

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...To a Man

How am I supposed to go back to a normal life after that?

Well in fact... you didn't. It was over a year later and Baekhyun never came back. Every night you were hoping that somehow, he would come visit you again. But every night you laid in your bed disappointed, actually, even worse: frustrated.

Because after that fateful night you never touched yourself to your handsome boss Doctor Park Chanyeol again. Actually, you completely lost interest in him. Sure, he was still very handsome and gentlemanly but you just... didn't care anymore.

To be completely exact you didn't touch yourself to Chanyeol, but you still did have intimate sessions with yourself... Well, you tried at least. Because nothing, NOTHING... came close to what you felt when Baekhyun took care of you that night. Actually, you knew no human being, no simple mortal could possibly fuck you that way. It's not something a being of flesh and blood can do... It's something only an unholy creature could do, something only a demon could make you feel.

So, every time you succumbed to the urge of relieving yourself by letting your fingers play with your folds it ended in either, a complete failure where you couldn't even drive yourself to your peak or a lukewarm, disappointing and frustrating orgasm...

A whole year...

A whole year spent fantasizing about a teenage demon that only used you to pass a stupid exam then vanished from your reality without failing to completely shatter your whole world...

So yeah... it sucked...

You sighed to yourself, staring at the same old ceiling of your room. It was one of those nights where the tension was just too much, but you didn't feel like going through the hassle of actually pleasuring yourself knowing damn well it was going to be temporary and frankly dissatisfying.

You turned to your side, determined to chase off the frustration by getting some good sleep. Exhausted you drifted pretty quickly into a deep slumber.

But the sleep was anything but good... You found yourself covered in sweat, wrestling in your sheets, engrossed in a fever dream. Not much of it made sense but you felt like hands were roaming your body, like an usually warm embrace was enveloping your form, you felt like rugged flesh was lapping at your ear. You heard like jerky breaths, lowly grunts, like an unnaturally deep voice talking to you...

Missed me... Kitten?

"Baekhyun?!" you shouted as you sat up in your bed, eyes snapping open.

You looked around in a slight panic, your night gown clamped to your sweaty skin and your chest heaving up and down.

"Fuck" you cursed yourself under your breath, disappointed when you realized your mind played tricks on you again... You're just here alone in your room, soaked in frustration... and arousal.

"God damn it" your curse again as you slip your night gown over your head and kick the covers off your heated skin. You are left naked on top of your bed. Immediately the cold air sends goosebumps on your humid skin, hardening your nipples.

You let you fingers slip to the crux of the problem. You know there's only one way to finally be able to chase away the memory of Baekhyun, even if it's only for tonight.

The cold fingers on your drenched heat draw a sharp breath off your lips. You're so excited about this stupid fever dream, so excited about him that only a few rubs already have you with your toes curled up in pleasure. You fist your sheets tightly.

"Aaaah... Baekhyun" you softly moan his name. With eyes closed shut, you try to recall the way he felt inside you, the way his eyes glowed red, the way his low voice sent shivers down your spine...

Oh... Kittennn~...

It was like you could hear him... you gave no rest to your sensitive and throbbing nub...

"Baekhyun I'm gonna cum" you whisper to yourself. Pleasure slowly taking over your entire body. You slip a finger inside your drenched heat to aid yourself to your peak a little quicker. Then another one. You aim directly for your sensitive spot and you feel yourself tightly clenching around your fingers. You're so close... so soclose.

"Aren't you going to wait for me?"

This time...There's no doubt.

Your eyes snap open again as you stop what you were doing and you are met with Baekhyun staring you down at the foot of the bed, licking his lips, eyes already wavering with a tint of red.

But for a second you doubt. Is it really him? You can't help but to ask yourself. He looks so different. Sure, the spare shaped black tail still loosely dangles behind him but other than that his whole aura changed. The boyish features are completely gone. Instead, he looks broader, like more muscular. His plain black tee is tightly hugging his fit and toned body, making it easy for you to see abs peaking from underneath the constrictive fabric, abs you can't recall from the previous visit. His matching jeans let you see through their rips his smooth silky skin and generous thighs... But the most noticeable change is definitely his horns. The cute 10 cm (4in) tall skin-colored horns were replaced by huge 30cm (1ft) long ones. They were directly sprouting in a spiral from his forehead and stood proud on top of his head. Their base was black but as they went up it faded to a dark and deep blood red.

Overall, he looks so much more mature...

He isn't a boy anymore... he's a man.

"Baekhyun?" you start hesitantly as the demon already slips beside you in bed. "Is that really you?" you can't help but to ask.

"Yes... Kitten... It's me" he whispers in the low voice you missed so much. Bringing his lips close to your ear and you feel his rough tongue lap at your sweet spot, the familiar sensation draws a shaky breath out of you. For a minute you don't say anything you're just there, under his spell as he plays with you. In the midst of all this you didn't even notice you were stark naked, or maybe you just didn't care. You don't want to protest quite frankly, you let him do, you let him gently nibble at your bare collarbones and plant gentle kisses on your neck. You let him because... that's what you've been waiting for... For a whole fuckingyear.

But then you shake your head, snapping out of it... You leave his side taking the sheets to wrap around your naked body and get up, knowing that his soft kisses keep you from thinking rationally.

"Baekhyun..." you turned your eyes back to him "you changed so much". He chuckled and the red glow faded to slowly disappear as he gets up.

"Yes... I know, a lot can change in 12 years..." he casually says while stepping closer to you.

Wait... What?!?!

"What 12 years? No, it was just last year" you correct him, and he takes your hands in his slender black stained fingers.

"Maybe to you... but not to me" You suddenly recall the demonic blood moon years... Maybe that's what he meant... "I'll be turning 30 this May."

Your jaw drops... how was that even possible?! But then again, here you are questioning the passing of time for an.... Incubus... so what's crazier really?

"You remember what I told you about breeding?" Baekhyun's voice pulls you out of your thoughts.

"Yes... that it is an incubus sole purpose, right?" you say absent mindedly, still dazed at the situation. But you're brought back to the present moment when Baekhyun squeezes your hands tightly and dives in your gaze with his piercing dark brown orbs.

"Yes, I came back for that..." he leans in and you instinctively lean your head back giving him unconditional access to your neck. Baekhyun's voice goes down an octave again, lips only millimeters away from your ear. "I came back for you..." he whispers before he licks around your sweet spot, making your heart loudly thump in your chest and your toes curls on the cold wooden floor of your bedroom. You bite your lip trying to restrain your voice.

"I'm going to breed you" his voice is hypnotizing, "You will bare my children and bring them into the world" You can't even wrap your mind around what he's saying, "I chose you, y/n. I only want you" His voice his putting a spell on you. "I can fuck any women I want but..." his hand is now wrapped around your nape, and the other one gently pulls on the sheets that you let fall to the ground without resistance.

"Baekhyun what do you mean?" you ask in a jerky whisper, only focusing on his hot breath on your ear. He ignores your question.

"I need your approval to breed you, y/n..." His blunt nails grazed against the naked skin of your lower back, you start to softly moan, you're completely wrapped around his fingers. "So, say yes, y/n... Say yes Kitten" he says before his large palms grope your butt cheeks closing in the last centimeters that were left between his clothed body and your naked one, sending radiating heat from your core to your entire body.

What are you supposed to reply? Are you supposed to say no? How could you do such a thing after waiting for him for a whole year, everyday growing a little more desperate, a little more frustrated... How could you possibly say no, when his hands were roam your body like they have always known you. When he whispers with that voice in your ear. When minutes ago, you would have given anything to have another night with him...

You... just...

Can't.

"Okay..." you whispered ever so quietly, barely audible even for your own ears.

You feel Baekhyun's cheek lift against yours as he smiles. When he pulls back, you can see his pointy teeth glistening under the full moon, like they did a year ago, he's wearing the same evil smirk that you know so well, or maybe this time he's even more devious...

Fuck...

Right there something snaps, something changes. When Baekhyun looks back the red glow in his eyes is more intense than ever, his expression is wicked. Lust dancing in his dark orbs as he licks his lips with appetite.

You don't even notice the red glow around your naked form before you feel your feet being lifted from the ground. Baekhyun smirks at the confusion plastered on your face. His magic makes you levitate and harshly throws you on the bed, almost smashing your heard on the headboard. You should be stunned but the scene taking place right before your eyes keeps you conscious and focused.

The red glow now circles Baekhyun and in a fraction of second his clothes are gone. Not dropped to the floor, just gone. They completely vanished. And he stands right before you in all his glory. You can't help but to let your eyes trail his body.

His sharp jawline, long narrow neck, his collarbones. The muscles of his pecs and arms moving and mesmerizing you. The dangling black tail. The toned abs already lightly sparkling with sweat.

Then your eyes finally go below the waist band.

You do remember the enormous… thingBaekhyun fucked you with last time. How could you forget? You could never. That's why you know for a fact that this thing right there in front of you, rock hard, lightly twitching and oozing precum at the slit, is actually bigger.

Your jaw drops to the floor. The veiny and pulsing monstrous cock is as lengthy as your thigh and as thick as a soda can. When you look closely it seems like the sides are beaded. Your heart jumps in your chest. Because you know that huge ass cock is made for pleasure. Tingles start to bubble in the pit of your stomach, and you unconsciously press your thighs together.

Baekhyun can't help but to smirk when he notices fear and anticipation swim in your confused eyes.

He steps closer to you.

"Oh Kitten" he starts as he crawls in bed to you. The wicked smirk still dancing on his lips, red glowing eyes fixed on you. "We're going to have so much fun."

Then with the familiar flick of his wrist your legs fly open at his will. You gasp in surprise. And Baekhyun's smirk goes wider when he notices how your folds glisten with juices.

"Kitten look at you..." He says gesturing his chin towards your most private part. "You're always so wet for me" his low voice send shivers down your spine as embarrassment rush to your cheeks. But the spell maintains your legs nice and spread out for him.

Baekhyun leans in closer to your drenched heat teeth and tongue out.

You gasp loudly arching your back when you feel his rugged tongue aiming directly for your clit. Still very sensitive from almost cumming a few minutes ago.

"Mmmmh... Kitten you taste even better than last time" he purrs, lips pressed to your core, the vibrations sending electricity in your body.

Baekhyun takes his sweet time gently lapping at and around your nub to tease you, while cascades of juices flow out of your impatient center. You can't endure the teasing anymore, not after all this time, not after a whole year. You unconsciously buck your hips up, grinding your pussy on his tongue while a tiny pleading whimper escapes your lips.

Baekhyun stops in his track. You're taken aback when glowing red eyes look back up at you and he shakes his head fainting disappointment. But the smirk is quick to comeback.

"Baby" his warm breath fans your delicate parts. "Don't be so fucking greedy" he says before sinking his pointy white teeth in the sensitive little bud. The sting pulls a scream out of you while you grip the sheets. Immediately after Baekhyun's tongue plunges inside your hungry little hole, reaching the deepest part right away. At an alluring speed, his long tongue comes in and out of you, each time poking your sweet spot. Your loud moans echo through the empty night, the familiar knot, quick to tighten again after this much teasing.

"Baekhyun don't stop" you plead, feeling your release coming. Baekhyun's red orbs sill fixed in yours while his tail lazily dangles behind him.

The incessant stimulation of your g-spot got you clenching around his long and rugged tongue while you finally cum, letting go of the knot. You scream in absolute bliss.

That's it... this feeling... The sensation you've been craving.

"Fuckkkk" You cry out.

Baekhyun parts himself from your throbbing center for a moment, allowing you to ride out your high at your own pace. Your chest is heaving up and down, sweat is pearling between your breasts.

"Baby, don't think it's over just yet" he says smirking again. "I have so much more in store for you..."

Right then, you still haven't fully recovered and Baekhyun dives down to your soaked folds again, but this time his hot and wet tongue only focusses on you swollen nub. You scream out in surprise and pleasure. Immediately your back arches again.

His tongue somehow feels like vibrations, the feeling is intense and suffocating, and you know you won't be slow be thrown into another strong orgasm again. Your hand instinctively flies to Baekhyun's hair, resting in between his two horns, fingers harshly pulling at his luscious raven black locks.

"Is Kitten cumming again?" he says with a mouthful.

You can't even process an answer as the crushing orgasm washes over you again, excessive amounts of your arousal coating your tights and linking your center to the sheets. You moan out with no restrain, making no effort whatsoever to keep your voice down.

When he's done Baekhyun sits back up on the bed. You don't even notice how he strokes his huge monstrous pole in his fist.

"Kitten, I hope you're not tired yet..." you jumped when you felt is unnaturally hot tip glide against your folds. "Because it’s my turn now"

He shimmied his way to your parted thighs. Like last time he rested his cock on your stomach to measure it up to you. Now there's no doubt the thing is much much bigger than last time. A year ago, it reached to your midriff, now the red tip is comfortably placed between your boobs. In a sort of trance, you wrap your hands around it, the both of them can barely circle the girth of his dick. It's huge... Abnormally long and terrifyingly thick... but you can't wait to feel the thing inside you.

Baekhyun smirks when he notices you eyeing his member with burning desire. He pulls his hips back and aligns himself at your entrance. His tip teases you as you bite your lip, gathering your wetness for a smooth crossing.

"Look at me Kitten" your eyes shoot back to Baekhyun's glowing orbs. "Look at me while I make you take my cock" You let a tiny whimper out when you feel him pushing himself inside you. The tip gently and slowly parting you. Baekhyun grunts in your ear.

"Fuck Kitten, you're so tight for me baby" he breaths out in his low voice.

With every centimeter it gets better and better, you feel no pain at all only divine pleasure. You feel each one of the beads along his shaft, each one more pleasing than the last. Last time just that one slow stroke made you cum. And you know, history won't fail to repeat itself.

"I'm gonna cum" you whisper in a strangled breath, your eyes still locked with Baekhyun's. His smirk goes wider at your frowned brows and trembling lip. But he keeps on steadily pushing his cock inside you, spreading you further and further.

"I know" he whispers before violently pushing the last few centimeters in. The unexpected and overwhelming pleasure washes over you as you sink your head back in the pillows, a long string of moan falling of your lips while your cunt twitches uncontrollably around Baekhyun, a satisfied grin playing on his lips.

"Kitten" he says while pulling back slowly as you are still high from your climax. "I don't think you're ready for me" You difficulty open one eye to look at him and nod to contradict him. Baekhyun chuckles. "You think?" he asks popping his dick out of you while your walls desperately clench around nothing.

"Yes" you whisper, squirming, craving for him to fill you up again. "Yes, I missed you so much" the words roll of your tongue before you even realize it. Baekhyun lifts an eyebrow.

"Really Kitten? You missed me?" you nod again. "Well... you only waited for a year" you gasp as his hot tip circles your aching little nub before going back to your entrance. "I waited for 12 years" he says in an unnaturally low grunt.

He slams his hips into yours in one powerful and shattering thrust which sends you right back to screaming again. His movements are fast and precise each time he sends his big cock smashing against your g-spot. The pleasurable feeling is unbearable.

"Baekhyun... Aaaahh..." you moan his name, as you get dangerously close to the edge again.

"Yes, moan for me Kitten" he says through greeted teeth. "Aren't I a lot better than last time?" he pants out.

You can't believe it but it's true. You didn't think it was possible but yes. He got incredibly better at fucking you to the point that you're ready to pledge your pussy to him for eternity. For him only. You'd do anything to be fucked like this every day until your body eventually gives out from exhaustion.

"Yesss.... Aaaaah... fuck" You shout closing your eyes under the pleasure. Your loud and unrestrained moans make Baekhyun smirk.

"You're mine" he growls continuing to fuck you deep and hard. "Fucking look at me I told you" He plants his nails at the side of your face, making you wince and also open your eyes. The red glow is brighter than ever. "Say that you're mine" he commands.

"I'm yours" you whine locking eyes with him as the clenching of your cunt warns Baekhyun of how close you are.

"Kitten, are you gonna cum again?" he chuckles eyes locked into yours, furiously pumping his abnormally large cock inside your now shapeless hole.

"I'm gonna make you mine Kitten. I'm gonna pump you full of cum. Do you want that Kitten?"

"Yes please" You beg in a short breath, your release getting dangerously close.

"Good girl" He grunts getting close to your ear, his rugged tongued licking the shell of it. "Now cum. Cum around my big cock while I fill you up to the brink with hot cum."

The low whispers are enough to rocket you over the edge. You scream in absolute bliss, twitching around his huge cock as you feel the hot sticky liquid rushing into you and overflowing out. Just like last time the quantity is insane, testifying of Baekhyun’s demonic nature.

When Baekhyun finally slips out of you, you feel your heat meekly clench around nothing, already missing Baekhyun's monstrous cock.

You are left completely dazed, lying on the bed, eyes still rolled back in your head, focusing on the fading sensation of your peak.

You don't even notice when Baekhyun stands by the bed and you also don't notice how, contrary to last time, cumming has not calm him down. The "thing" is still alive and lively. In other words... he's far from done with you.

"Kitten I'm gonna fuck your face now"

You don't have time to process the meaning of those words that you are pulled by your arm. Your body is lying across the bed while your head is resting upside down on the edge of the mattress.

"Open wide Kitten" Baekhyun's hot and wet tip brushes against your lips. Almost out of instinct you open your mouth.

Baekhyun presses himself inside your narrow mouth. The stretch is excruciating, the thing is too big. Way too big for your tiny mouth and you barely manage to take the head of his dick inside your crowded mouth. Baekhyun grunts loudly, indulging in the feeling of stretching your cute little mouth to his convenience.

"Fuckkkk... y/n"

When he reaches the back of your throat he starts to slowly pull out, taking his cock completely out. You cease the opportunity to take a deep breath. Good call! Because the next second, Baekhyun goes back inside you but with much less care. He places both of his hands on your cheeks gripping your face tightly to facilitate the penetration.

He has no mercy for your poor sore throat, his powerful thrust silencing you except for the wet and sloppy sounds that your mouth makes.

"How does your cum and mine taste Kitten?" he grunts again.

His voice sends shivers across your skin, your eyes roll back as your pained pried open jaw gradually goes numb. You want to scream yes but you can't. You want more, more of this intoxicating taste taking over your mouth and clouding your mind.

"Fuckkkk... Kitten... You're gonna make me cum" He whispers, his voice conveys the feeling of his high getting closer. "I'm gonna cum in your mouth baby. You want that Kitten?" You only produce a gargled moan but Baekhyun knows how eager you are to taste more of him.

He fucks your face a little more before whispering

"Such a good girl for me"

Only instants after you feel the stream shoot to the back of your throat, instantly filling your mouth. So many squirts crash on the inside of your cheeks and on your tongue, some even go through your nose. The bitter taste invades you and your entire body, making your head dizzy.

When Baekhyun pulls out you hurriedly swallow a big mouthful of thick and hot cum before drawing a sharp -and much needed- breath.

Baekhyun gently strokes your cheeks.

"You're such a good girl for me Kitten" he says before laying back on the bed. His back is settled against the headboard. And your eyes go wide with stupor when you notice that...Still... The monster has not... calmed down.

You feel exhausted and drained out by all the orgasms you failed to count. You can't even move a muscle... even if you tried.

But you don't have to because once again your body is enveloped by a red glowing light. With that you are lifted in the air. Baekhyun's magic spread your legs into an impressive split, suspended above him while he patiently waits for you with his hands behind his head.

Beads of sweat formed on his chest and rolled down his toned abs. Sweat also sticking his bangs to his forehead and his horns. He's absolutely gorgeous, he has the kind of looks that nobody would ever be able to turn down... and especially not you.

But he looks everything but tired.

Slowly his magic lowers you down. You gasp when his hot tip brushes against your drenched folds.

"I just need more of you Kitten. Can you handle me?"

You want to respond but already the steady descent as you stretched out around his girthy cock. Making you whimper as a response. Slowly but surely Baekhyun makes you go down, cunt perfectly angled with his huge dick. Each centimeter, each bead going inside you, feeling like agonizing pleasure.

When you are halfway through the red light around your body goes off and he drops you to take the rest of him in one go. And it’s too much for you. The way his cock smashes into your sensitive sweet spot while Baekhyun has his glowing red orbs fixed on the place your bodies meet sends you into the abyss again. This time the pleasure is so intense that not only your needy cunt absolutely crushes Baekhyun's cock with uncontrollable spams but also gushes of your juices come out of you in powerful streams, drenching Baekhyun's muscular torso. Baekhyun smirks as he clicks his tongue and shake his head.

"Kitten... You came again with the very first stroke" he says fainting disappointment, taking pleasure in seeing you struggling, shaking uncontrollably, eyes rolled back, jaw hanging open and toes curled up.

Then you feel yourself getting lifted again the red glow comes back around your figure. You whimper as you feel Baekhyun slide out of you. But right before the tip pops out, he smashes you back onto him. You arch your back as a delighted long string of moans escape your lips.

"Damn Kitten you're so tight" Baekhyun says through greeted teeth.

You can't even reply anything as he's already lifting you up with his magic. Each time he increases the pace until he has you jumping up and down his girthy length. The familiar knot tightens again.

"How good does my cock feel baby?" Baekhyun asks his red eyes fixed on you as he makes your boobs bounce.

"It's the best.... Baekhyun it's the best thing ever. I wanna be fucked like this every day" you answer in a delighted scream. It's visibly what Baekhyun wanted to hear as the evil twinkle in his eye intensifies.

"Yeah Kitten? You want that?" he grunts in the low voice you love so much, sending swarms of butterflies fly in your stomach. He goes faster again. The wet sounds of skin clashing bounce off the walls punctually interrupted by Baekhyun's grunts and your moans.

"I'm gonna c-" You want to announce but Baekhyun interrupts you.

"Not yet Kitten, this time you'll cum with me and when I tell you to" He makes you hover over his dick. Still, just above him. You squirm only wanting to be filled again.

"Say what you want Kitten"

"I want your cock Baekhyun" he raises in eyebrow. "Please" your pleads make Baekhyun smirk again.

"Yeah baby? Is that what you want?" he says as he slips the tip inside, the beaded shaft make you scream in bliss as Baekhyun slowly lowers you on his cock, legs spread wide, offering him the best view on your swollen and twitching cunt.

"Yes!!!" you scream while tears well up in the corner of your eyes.

But then Baekhyun's spade shaped tail swiftly wraps around your neck, the slick scales gliding on your skin send goosebumps in the nape of your neck. When the tail has made a full circle around your neck, Baekhyun suddenly tightens the grip.

"Then fucking take it" he smashes you onto his huge cock.

You open your mouth to scream but not a sound comes out. You are completely silenced. Only the wet and lewd sounds of your pussy can be heard as Baekhyun's tip touches the deepest part of you, forming a visible bulge inside your stomach. Tears of pure joy roll down your heated cheeks.

Baekhyun then goes back to his insane rhythm. Every time angling you just right to smash your sensitive spot. Gradually your mind goes blank as he fucks you furiously, your jaw hangs open and your eyes rolls back into their orbit.

"Look at me" Baekhyun whispers in his demonic low voice. Your eyes snap to him. "I'm gonna cum inside you" he continuous to whisper. You nod vigorously, cause you know it means he'll finally let you cum too. "With this one I'll make you mine. I'll impregnate you. I'll make your belly swell with my children" You nod again, streams of tears wetting your cheeks. The restriction of blood to your brain makes you see stars as the pleasure rises again to an unbearable level.

"Now cum. Cum for me Kitten" Baekhyun grunts.

You feel his cum flow into you, this last thing sends you over the edge into the most intense orgasm you ever felt, that's including the ones Baekhyun gave you in the past. This one is different. This one is too much. His big fat cock smashing into you, his drenched chest glistening, the dirty talk, the pet name, the commanding tone, the demonic voice, the tail around your neck, the thick and hot cum filling you up.

Your spread-out legs shake uncontrollably as Baekhyun leads you to completion. Just as you are on the verge of losing consciousness due to the air restriction but also the heavenly stimulation of your orgasm, Baekhyun loosens his tail around your narrow neck. A strangled scream escapes free of your sore throat as you are finally able to vocally express the immense pleasure you feel.

"Yes, that's it baby" Baekhyun purrs as he keeps you going up and down his length.

You cry out a long moan as your head is thrown back and your tongue hangs lose out of your mouth. Baekhyun slowly decreases the pace until it comes to a stop. He lifts you out one last time, as soon as his big member pops out of you, gallons of his cum flow out of you. Baekhyun lays you down gently next to him. Before linking his lips with yours and shoving his long and rugged tongue inside your mouth and you don't even notice the red glow marking you in the lower stomach region.

You lay there for you don't know how long, trying to gather your thoughts. You are completely drained, fucked beyond repair...

After a while Baekhyun stands back up.

"In three weeks, the children will be born" you difficulty open your eyes back to look at him. "I'll be back to take them... and you."

What?!?

"Wait... me? Also babies??? Plural?" so many questions shoot through your mind.

"Yes" Baekhyun says as he wipes himself with a piece of cloth he found. "I marked you as mine" It's only now that you notice the small drawing Baekhyun tattooed on you with his demonic magic. It's a language you can't comprehend.

"What is this?" you asked pointing to the tattoo.

"It means you are to be my wife". Your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets.

"WHAT?" You yell, flabbergasted.

"Yes, you know what a succubus is right, female incubus? " you nod unable to speak one more word.

"Well, no succubus are born. Succubus are only made. They are human women chosen by incubus to become their wife and bring their heirs to the world."

You want to say something, but you only stutter nonsense.

"Over the next three weeks you will kiss your humanity goodbye. Horns will sprout out your forehead and you will grow a tail. Your magic energy will increase, and you will slowly be able to use different magic spells. In three weeks, I'll bring you to the magic realm where you will live with me. And serve me with your body..." Baekhyun marks a silence "and heart."

"But... you... I-" Baekhyun sits next to you on the bed and cups your cheeks to make your troubled eyes meet his.

"Wasn't that what you asked for?" He asked in the most honey toned voice, his darks orbs fixed into your unsure gaze. He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip "Right Kitten?"

"Yes..." you whisper, hypnotized by his intense stare.

"Over the past year, your feelings for me bloomed, didn't they?" You felt blood rushing to your cheeks as Baekhyun's eyes were unwavering.

You didn't answer anything, but you didn't have to... Baekhyun knew exactly how to read you. Maybe because he felt the same way...

He got back up and with magic popped his clothes back on. Red smoke started to appear at his feet, gradually growing around him.

"I'll be back in three weeks... Wait for me Kitten, okay?" He said with that adorable boyish smile you haven't seen in a year, he winked at you before disappearing in the red smoke.

You rubbed your belly, where life had taken its domain. This time, you wouldn't have to try to go back to a normal life.

It was impossible anyway... and frankly you didn't want to.

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tetsunormous · 3 years

Text

Prove yourself useful

pairing: dom!Kenma x f!reader x spectator!Suna x Spectator! Osamu

genre: smut (18+), established relationship, post time-skip university, gamer boyfriend

word count: 2.4 k

warning: thigh riding, exhibitionism, voyeurism, swearing, hair pulling, mentions of edging, spanking (?), degradation

It’s just past 2 in the afternoon and your lecture finally finished. University is nothing like what you grew up thinking it would be, but it would be a lot worse if you didn’t get to live with your boyfriend.

You met Kenma during your first year and it didn’t take long for the two of you to begin falling for each other. He is more complex than you’d ever imagine and everyday you learn new things to learn about him. At the surface level he’s incredibly successful; being a youtuber, a pro gamer, a fucking CEO, all while taking university classes. However, Kenma is so much more than that.

The Kenma you know and love is the Kenma that’s cooped up in his gaming room spitting insults at his friends while they practice for a match they have later on in the night. The Kenma that you find yourself daydreaming about is the one obsessed with your apple pie and insists it's never too hot to eat right out of the oven. Your Kenma doesn't show the world all his little quirks, but you’ve learned to understand all of his many facial expressions and what he needs at the time. Everyone sees Kenma as this shy intelligent man who prefers to keep things to himself, which he is, but your favourite Kenma is the one he only lets out behind closed doors.

For someone so reserved none of his following would ever expect him to be the kind of lover to share you with others. No one would ever suspect Kenma for being the kind of lover to get off on seeing you completely ruined and embarrassed. This version of Kenma is definitely the one you find the most interesting because he kept it from you for the first year of your relationship, but two years in and his friends have seen more of you than you could keep track of.

Just thinking about him gets you worked up and it's times like this that you’re grateful for online classes. You tiptoe into your shared bedroom to discard the panties you’re currently wearing. The mere thought of riding his thigh gets you so excited the pair of black lace you previously wore didn’t stand a chance. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, your outfit isn’t anything special but it's his favourite. The sweater you’re wearing just big enough to cover your ass, sleeves long enough to hang past your fingertips, no bra or panties, the sheer thigh high socks that never fails to leave him hard, and the little cat ears resting on your head he bought for you months ago.

If he saw you now, there’s a chance you’d get your way.

You knock softly on the door before entering. The blinds are shut and there's a purple hue emitting from his LED lights. He’s sitting in front of his three monitors with nothing but a pair of sweatpants and his headset on, “Kenma? Are you in a game right now?”

His back is towards you so you begin to walk towards his desk, closing the door behind you. Osamu and Suna have seen the two of you naked plenty of times but for some reason, you still get a little shy. You wave at them on screen as you stand behind your boyfriend and you can hear their remarks through his headset.

“Oi, I think a little kitty wants to join before we play tonight”. Suna is always the first to say something, but Osamu definitely teases you more.

“You didn’t tell us we’d get a special treat today, Kodzuken”

Kenma stares blankly at his friends before turning to you, “Hi pudding, you finished with class?” he asks as his eyes wander down your body. You can see a slight smirk form on his lips before reaching out to give your hip a squeeze, “Miya was right, what a special little treat you are”

You know Kenma is observant but you can’t help but act a little cuter when there’s an audience around. “If you’re just practicing for now, can we cuddle Kenken, I missed you”, you ask with a slight pout on your face and your sweater paws reaching out for his arm, eyes glancing down at his bulge.

His eyes soften a bit and he chuckles at your act, “yeah yeah, sit on my lap you little brat”

You happily oblige and sit on his left thigh. Your head leaning on his shoulder as he presses a kiss to your temple. With your arms resting on his shoulders, you begin playing with his hair and rocking your hips ever so slightly.

“We haven’t seen you wear those little ears in a while y/n, don't tell me you put them on after class just for some cuddles” A blush creeps onto your face as Suna continues to tease you about your intentions.

“Awh, don’t hide your face from us y/n. Kozume has shown us you’re not really as shy as you seem, did Suna’s little comment really make you blush that hard?”

You feel your boyfriend nudge you lightly with his shoulder, a breathy chuckle leaving his mouth. “She knows I won’t fuck her till tonight yet she still climbs up onto my leg without panties on, she can act shy all she wants but we all know how shamelessly needy she is” You lift your head from his shoulder with a surprised look on your face. He’s still staring at his monitor, fingers busy with the controller, “you didn’t think I’d feel how wet you are? Your pussy is soaking through my sweats kitten”

The boy's laughter rings through the headphones and a whine escapes your lips. He takes his headphones off and has them resting around his neck before putting his controller down. You feel his hands under your arms and he positions you so that you're sitting on his left thigh facing his desk, legs resting on either side of his.

“Awh Osamu, look at the little kitty pouting cause her big bad boyfriend turned her away”

“She’s always so needy, aren’t you y/n? And in front of us too? You like putting on a show and having everyone see what a slut you are, huh”

Your thighs squeeze around Kenmas as your entire face starts to become red. You can hear your boyfriend clearing his throat before landing a hard smack against your thigh. “He asked you a question kitten. If you’re going to be a needy slut and come in here while we’re practicing, at least show some manners”

“Y-yes Samu” you whisper, “I like having you watch”

All the boys hum in unison and Suna leans back in his gaming chair, leaving his controller on the desk. “Well since you interrupted practice, I think it’s only fair you give us something in return, isn't that right Kenma”

“Suna makes a good point. I treated you so well last night cause we both knew I would be busy until later tonight, and I wouldn’t be able to give you the attention you need.” His slender fingers weave through your hair at the base of your scalp before pulling hard, exposing your throat for his friends to see. His nose softly traces your sensitive skin, inhaling your scent, “I let you cum all night long, but here you are with your greedy little cunt rubbing itself against me trying to get off”

“Maybe you need to be more mean with her, she should know better than to come in here if she isn’t going to make herself useful”

“You hear that?” Kenma’s other hand travels up your sweater and pinches your hardened nipple making you hiss in pain. “Should I listen to Osamu and be extra mean to you so you learn how to act?”

All three boys are now smirking at you but that just makes your body more aroused. Your pussy is throbbing and it takes everything in you not to start grinding on his leg. You feel him flex his muscles and you can't help but to cry out as the additional pressure on your clit sends an electric shot throughout your body.

“The poor baby can’t even respond”, Suna chuckles and pretends to pout “you are just a dumb little whore, aren’t you y/n?”

You let out a whine as your eyes meet Kenma’s. His cold stare alone asserts dominance over you and without thinking your hand reaches out to touch him. You feel a sharp pain as he smacks your hand away, “I don’t remember giving you permission to touch me kitten”. He yanks his hand back from your hair causing you to jerk forwards and grab a hold of the desk for balance. “We all know you won’t get allowed to cum later on but you will put on a show for us and prove you aren't just a useless slut”. He leans back with one arm resting on his armrest, “shall we make things interesting boys?”

Osamu stares intensely at you before laughing in your face, “Yea, let’s see if she can prove herself. If she can’t, I don’t think she deserves anything tonight”

“Y/n can be more than just Kozume’s dumb fuck, right? You gonna put on a show for us?”

Your mouth parted and eyes wide, you whip your head back to meet your boyfriends but he only smirks at you. “You have eight minutes kitten. Your hands stay on the desk and I won’t be touching you. If we hear a peep slip out of your lips, you lose. You better ride my thigh like you’re chasing the last orgasm you’ll ever have because if you fail to cum, I will edge you all night long to the brink of insanity, but all you can do is watch me fuck my fist instead.”

Osamu and Suna are rubbing themselves through their sweats as they snicker at our boyfriends rules. They continue to tease you but all you can focus on is the way Kenma is looking at you. He reaches back to tie his hair into a low bun and bounces his leg lightly, “are you ready?” he asks with his eyebrows slightly raised and a smirk. All you can do is nod back in his direction as you feel him flexing his thigh. He reaches for his phone and you watch as he sets a timer for eight minutes, “alright kitty….start”.

Your legs squeeze around your boyfriend's thigh as you begin to roll your hips. You shimmy yourself forwards a little bit so your clit can press against the base of his quads every time you rock forwards. Kenma was right, you're so wet it’s almost embarrassing how your own juices have lubricated your folds. Even against the fabric of his sweats, your pussy is drenched with your own arousal, helping you grind against his leg with ease. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, trying your hardest to control your breathing so the overwhelming pressure doesn’t cause you to moan out loud.

You can hear the two boys teasing and laughing at how filthy you really are but all you can think about is chasing that O. The noises coming from your riding, the way your juices have dampened his pants, making a wet slapping noise every time you rock. Your fingers are gripping his desk hard and all you can do is throw your head back, chest heaving, trying to swallow your whines as you start to feel the tension building in your stomach. “I can feel the way your pussy is twitching every time you rock forwards, sometimes close isn’t she?” Kenma moves forwards and speaks softly by your ear, “You only have three more minutes, why don’t you let us hear your pretty voice hmm?”

“Oh y/n, you look like you’re close to cumming, we’ve never heard you this quiet before. I bet it would feel even better if you moaned for us”

“Suna and I always talk about how pretty and desperate you sound, let us hear you”

The constant egging didn’t help but it definitely made you more needy. They all knew how loud you were when Kenma would stuff you full and just as you let out a heavy breath, your boyfriend flexes his muscles. Your mouth falls open as you roll faster, knowing your orgasm will happen soon. The way his thigh feels against your slick folds should be illegal, it shouldn’t feel this good before he even touches you.

“Oh I think someones going to cum, show us how you fall apart. Ride my fucking thigh and imagine how much better it would be if my cock was in your needy hole”. Kenma now palming against his dick as he watches your eyebrows furrow, your eyes squeeze tight, your cheeks glowing , the baby hairs sticking to your forehead, all while you bite down on your bottom lip trying your hardest to keep all your noises inside. You look absolutely stunning to him, falling apart over his leg. He keeps flexing his thigh at a fast pace to help you reach your high, no longer caring about the challenge. He’s so mesmerized by the way your pussy feels as it’s throbbing, and how your legs squeeze harder against his as you completely come undone.

You can hear the boys let out soft moans as you cum all over your boyfriend's thigh with a force that even you’re surprised about.

“Fuck Kenma, you get to see that every time?”

The timer goes off and you limp over the desk, “fuck off Suna, consider yourself lucky the two of you got to get off to her”, he says with a smile on his face.

“We know we’re very lucky,” Osamu says chuckling, “ thank you y/n, we’ll definitely win our 3v3 later”

Kenma looks over at you and pulls you close to him. He slips his hand under the sweater and rubs your back, “you did so well baby, I’m surprised you didn’t make a sound”

“Promise I did good? D-does this mean I get to cum later?”

“You really think I’m going to forget why this all happened in the first place? You just came all over me and you’re already thinking about getting stuffed huh” he cradles your face with a faint smile on his face. “You did so well, so we’ll see” and presses a kiss on your lips, “for now, you can stay here for the next while and sit in embarrassment as they continue to tease you about you cumming just from my thigh”

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#hq smut #hq x reader #hq #kenma kuzome #kenma #kenma smut #suna smut #suna #suna rintarō #osamu #osamu miya #osamu smut #dark #tw exhibitionism #tw cyber sex

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sukirichi · 3 years

Text

earned it [05]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

cw. domestic abuse, car accident, slight angst, sexism, suggestive scenes, unedited and my naoya simping is obvious with this one,

notes. TEAM NAOYA LET’S GOOOO *sighs* finally got this out from my drafts. anyways, here’s an earned it update while i recover from migraines because my schedule was so hectic last week and i’m so tired, might be sleeping a lot these days hence the hiatus :( also ik i keep saying this but future chapters will finally be more...UH SPICY AND MORE DRAMATIC, I guess? this is mostly an angst fic btw so please don’t expect too much fluff of heartwarming romance. there WILL be romance,,,it just takes some time hehe, anways ENJOY...or not :)

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Women were weak. Trained to be voiceless, compliant, and unable to fight – Naoya found them weak.

His own mother was the perfect epitome of that. For years, he’d watched her leave his father’s room with dried tears, wiping them away with the back of her sleeves. When she saw a little Naoya standing at the edge of the hallway, she’d immediately usher him back to his room, her tears replaced with a smile so convincing Naoya wouldn’t have believed she’d been crying if he hadn’t seen it for himself.

Naoya wasn’t stupid. How could he be when day and night, he’s surrounded by tutors, expected to take over his clan and lead them all to a brighter future?

How could he be stupid when he can’t sleep at night, for the screams and cries of his mother, the sound of palm hitting cheek resonating just from the other room, accompanied with the insults directed her way by his own father?

How could he be so stupid when he looked up to his mother – who he believed was the only source of light in the rather desolate walls of their manor – only to see that her beauty faded with each passing day, the brightness of her eyes now filled agony, with pain, with fear? She no longer smiled; not even for him. She no longer came around his room to read him bedtime stories no matter how much Naoya pleaded because he’d gotten tired of reciting scriptures and poetry. She no longer kissed him on the forehead as a morning greeting, opting to stay in the sidelines with her head bowed, acting as if she was a servant and not his mother.

Naoya wasn’t stupid. As the future leader of the Zen’in Clan, it was his duty to hear and see everything, to be wary of everyone around him and to observe. He knew his father abused her. He knew his father hated her, looked down on her, stepped on her at each moment he could. And as if that wasn’t enough, Naoya found out they weren’t married in the first place.

She had been nothing but a mere concubine whose role was to birth an heir. Now that Naoya had come to life, her purpose to live ceased to exist. And people who had no role in the Zen’in estate had no reason to stay any further.

“Mother,” Naoya cried out, tugging at his mother’s sleeve. “Mother, please don’t go, don’t leave me!”

She was crying again; he wished she’d stop doing that, that she’d stop being so weak. He wanted his mother to be strong and fight back, but she’s not even attempting to wipe her tears away this time, displaying her vulnerability and meek self to him. Had his father been there, she’d be scolded again, claiming that Naoya shouldn’t be exposed to behaviors of surrender and weakness.

His mother cupped his face, trying her best to keep the younger version of himself from dangling onto her robes; the expensive, silk material the last evidence she’d ever been a part of them.

“Naoya, baby, it’s okay. You need to grow up strong and be the clan leader, okay?”

“But why do you have to leave? Why do you never fight back?”

“I’m sorry, dear...” was all she said, finally kissing him on the forehead like she’d failed to do so for the past months. Somehow, it didn’t make him feel any better. Instead, Naoya’s cries grows louder with each minute, loud enough that he caught the attention of his manservants who paled at the Young Master’s wails that was sure to displease his father locked inside his study. His mother sent a glance their way that expressed messages he couldn’t yet understand due to his innocence. Strong arms wrapped around his smaller frame until they dragged Naoya away from his mother, the sight of a luggage behind her turning him weak in the knees.

“Remember, Mother always loves you.”

“No!” he fought against their hold. His servants did all they could to not harm the Young Master’s skin, but Naoya was too strong, too desperate that they were unable to hold him back.

Naoya kept running and running, uncaring of the fact his loose robes hindered him from going at full speed. He didn’t stop, even as his servants had trailed after him, desperate pleas for the Young Master to come back falling into deaf ears. His mother had arrived on a nearby bus from the open roads that led outside the Zen’in Estate’s outer gates, her hand frozen on the doors with her head slightly tilted to the side.

That slight moment of hesitance – to look behind or leave everything behind – was what made Naoya stop in his tracks. He breathed hard, sweaty palms on his knees as he silently prayed to the divine beings to bring his mother back, for her to look at him one last time.

But she didn’t.

And Naoya was frozen in his tracks, everything colliding into one crash and burn that he failed to make sense of everything. He stood there and watched his mother hop into the bus, her decision to leave him behind final and irrevocable. What had rung louder then? The way his heart shattered into pieces, or the loud honking of an incoming car that not even his skilled team of guards could protect him from?

Naoya figured it must’ve been the muffled cries of his mother behind the windows that rung the loudest even if he hadn’t heard it.

Until now, he carried the mark his mother left behind; a gnarly scar running inches from his kneecaps that throbs until now. It reminds him every day what could happen to someone once they’re weak, once they’re vulnerable, the horrifying consequence of not being strong enough to face in this world like a huge slap in his face. In a way, he felt grateful for the scar; at least it was proof he’d done his best to run after his mother, and this injury just taught him it was best to face things head on instead of running away.

This scar would always tell him that running away was never the option, and that was why Naoya felt so strong, so disappointed when he met you. Naoya saw much potential in you – the wrath firing in your eyes and the will to fight back is what pulled him in on the first place – and yet you were already trembling on the ground, your sweat dripping on the floor.

“Stand up!” he demanded, tapping his cane on the ground as he wobbled to his feet. “Do you really think being weak will make you survive in this world?”

“I’m trying!”

“You’re not trying hard enough,” he spat out, matching the intensity of your glare. Had you been any lesser of a woman, a servant, he’d have your eyes gouged out. But to him, you were a vessel of hope, an embodiment of strength he could help you hone that he let you off. Still, he felt extremely let down that he expected so much from you, and you’ve been pathetic so far.

Naoya shook his head as he left. “You’re going to die the moment you step out of here. And to think I actually had high hopes for you. As expected, you women are weak and pathetic. Each one of you is useless.”

He didn’t get very far when his injury throbbed again. Naoya fell to his knees and immediately bit down on his lip to conceal his groans, but it was too late. You’ve rushed to him in an instant, already pulling his slacks upwards to get a good look at his knee. Worry is painted all over your features still drenched in sweat and exhaustion, and he pried your hand away, a frown deep on his lips.

“Get away from me. I don’t need a woman’s help.”

“You’re so uptight, you know that?” you rebutted with a roll of your eyes. Naoya watched as you skipped to the nearest medical kit he always kept in his training grounds (which he rarely used) and popping out painkillers to hand to him. “Just shut up and let me take care of you. Unlike you, I don’t walk around calling people weak, and you having this injury never made you weak in my eyes, but you’re not impotent either,” scoffing at him, you pushed the bottle of water to a very annoyed looking Naoya. “At least let me take care of you every once in a while.”

His whole life, Naoya knew nothing but the familiar bitter cold. Being served tea, scaring his servants with his mere presence, the toxic view that everyone was below them drilled into his own head – that had been his life, and his feelings about it were neither hot nor cold.

To him, it was just the way he’s supposed to be.

But the warmth of your hands, the tenderness of your touch to his scars not because you found him weak but rather you cared for him…it tugged at his heartstrings. That had been at least five years ago and Naoya still remembered that moment very clearly.

He couldn’t understand whether he hated his inability to run away or not, because to be around you confused him to no end. One moment, he saw you as nothing but his one way ticket to fortune, but when he was alone with you, he was beginning to see you more as a woman rather than a pawn to his game. Soon, you became more than that, and nothing had terrified him even more that he let someone in his heart just like that.

Did he love you? No, most definitely not. A man like him didn’t know how to love. But with you – every time he saw you – Naoya is confident to admit that he could somehow understand what love meant.

It had been a hellish trip – one he’d never admit it out loud that he wished to never go on again. He was just happy to be home before he laughed, because home? He’d never thought he’d ever say that, yet there he was, beaming at the sight of you pushing your weight off the limousine.

You looked as stunning as usual, running up to him even with your heels before wrapping your arms around his neck. Usually, Naoya didn’t like public displays of affection since it could greatly deter his reputation, but everyone knew both of you weren’t each other’s weaknesses that he didn’t care whether his people could see their leader grinning as his wife welcomed with a kiss. Naoya balanced himself on his cane to encircle a hand to your waist, pulling you closer and burying his face in your hair.

“I missed you,” you mumbled with your head buried in his shoulder.

Naoya’s smile wasn’t any less affectionate. “I missed you more.” And he did – a whole lot. Even as you both made it inside the limousine, the tablet passed to him per the usual to update him on what happened on the few days of his absence, Naoya couldn’t keep his hands to himself. His cane balanced between his knee and the door, while his free hand intertwined with yours, mindlessly caressing the matching rings that symbolized more trust than love.

“How did it go?” he brought your knuckles up to his lips and kissed it, his attention still focused on today’s stock market. “Did you convince him to lend us the lab?”

“Yes, my love, everything is under control. I told you I had it.”

“Cunning little minx,” he smirked at the confidence and triumph dripping from your voice. Naoya shut his tablet off with a click, hauling you until you were resting on his lap. Giggles erupted beautifully from your lips as you pressed your forehead to his, both your smiles equally mischievous. “Did you sleep with him?”

“No. Satoru is still hopelessly in love with me, so it didn’t really take much to push him to the edge with a few tears and white lies,” you smiled at him, soon dropping from your face when Naoya’s eyes darkened with an unreadable – no, unfamiliar hint of worry behind them. “Naoya,” you caressed his leg, “I don’t care about him anymore, you’ve got nothing to worry about. I just want to survive and put everything behind,” you cupped his face and forced him to look you in the eye, making sure he heard every bit of sincerity in your voice. “You know I love you, right? I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth. Him coming back doesn’t change a thing.”

“I know that,” he said, although deep down, in the dark recesses of his heart, something agonizing stirred within.

You were a smart woman – too intelligent that he may have feared you had he been any lesser – who could easily read through him, but Naoya wanted to be a step ahead of you that he caught your lips to stop you from seeking beneath his soul already. He knew that if you looked a little too close, you’d see everything, and that would be the last thing he wanted.

Snaking his tongue past your lips, he greedily swallowed your moans. Naoya’s touch was possessive as he gripped your thigh, seconds away from ripping off the material of your dress. He only stopped once he saw his driver pale in awkwardness, and he chuckled to himself, squeezing your hips to stop you from grinding on his thigh.

“You’re always so good for me,” he praised, “I might just reward you once we get home.”

Home. Prior to meeting you, home had been nothing but a word in his extensive vocabulary. Home had been nothing but something that carried a meaning but no significance in his living, but now that he’d met you, home felt familiar. Home smelled like rose-scented shampoos, it resonated of bubbly laughter and curious hands finding its way to its belt. Home…you’d just given him something to lose.

As per the plan, you managed to sneak past Satoru’s defenses. Naoya had once said that your secret weapon was not your tempting nature as a woman, but rather your intelligence that sometimes put his to shame. He’d shamelessly announced his plan to use you again with the goal of taking matters into your own hands, looping Satoru into the picture until you have him wrapped around your finger again.

It turned out to be easier than expected. Truthfully, you wanted to refuse. It wasn’t because you were worried you’d beat yourself in your own game and fall for Satoru again, but because it felt so uncomfortable to hold him like that, to kiss him like that.

Each second you spent with him just served as a painful reminder of how he’d mindlessly pushed you to the side from a failed plan of ‘protecting’ you.

However, you couldn’t complain nor deny Naoya’s wishes. He wanted to use your abilities to the fullest of its extent and bring out your potential. Besides, you trusted him wholeheartedly that you’d never question his motives, even if it included seducing Satoru with crocodile tears and a faux broken heart to get him to bend and move at your will. After all, your will was also Naoya’s, and that was what made the both of you so dangerous together.

Standing here now in Satoru’s laboraty, sending him phoney desperate glances as you clutched your husband’s hand, the game had just begun.

He was giving you both a tour of what you could use from his laboratory, and Naoya had kept silent the whole time. The whole drug manufacturing was more your expertise than his. He simply observed everything with watchful eyes, his gaze darting between Satoru’s longing ones and yours. It was a play pretend of push and pull, everyone in the room except for Satoru unaware that soon, you’d bare your fangs to rip his neck apart, and then you’d stand aside and let Naoya finish the business.

You would’ve laughed had Naoya not tightened his grip on your hand. Both you and Satoru paused as Naoya desperately shushed you up, his eyes wide and floating from one corner to another.

Suddenly, a loud explosion came out of nowhere. The blast crushed half of the building to bare rubble and concrete and you saw nothing but black, inhaled so much smoke that your lungs quivered. The ringing in your ears didn’t stop as you wobbled to unsteady legs, waving the smoke away and coughing whatever filled your system. Satoru was right beside you, his long limbs quicker than yours before he hauled you up, checking to see if you had injuries but you were too scared, too desolate to care for his worry.

For your husband laid under a pile of rubble, an arm and his head the only parts of his body saved from the explosion.

“Naoya!” You screamed and pushed Gojo away, taking your heels off before darting straight to where he was. Jumping from broken debris to one another, your feet scraped and burned with each contact, the ringing in your ears growing louder along with the pounding of your heartbeat.

“Naoya, baby, no!” you tried to pick up the heavy slab of concrete that had crushed his body, tears blurring your vision until Naoya’s blond hair swiveled with his dark clothes. “Don’t leave me, don’t leave me, don’t you fucking dare-”

“Gojo,” he choked out blood. You fell to your knees as you cupped his face and grasped his hand all the while, your entire body shaking. His name kept falling from your lips as you asked him to stand up but he pushed your hand away, not sparing you another glance as he glared at the shock still man behind you. “Take her someplace far – somewhere he won’t find the both of you. It’s T-Toji.”

“No, Naoya, please! I’m not leaving without you!” It was too late. Satoru had easily carried you and threw you over his shoulder, running away from the scene because that was what he was best at. You pounded at his back as the smoke enlarged and covered the entirety of the building that had fizzled with chemicals inside, your husband starting to disappear from view. “Satoru, let me go! We can’t just leave him there!”

“Listen to your husband! He knows what he’s doing!”

As the smoke cleared for a split second, your world stilled. Naoya’s face was smothered with dirt and stains, pain evident on his twisted features, and yet – he was smiling. “Go,” he mouthed, hands outstretched far enough for your matching rings to glint under the sparkling lights. “Live.”

You slumped into Satoru’s arms. It was too late.

You couldn’t comprehend the events that happened afterwards. Satoru had pushed you inside his car before taking off to who knows where. All you knew was that you’d left your husband behind, and you stared emptily at the streets that flashed by, unable to feel or understand anything. It wasn’t until Satoru dragged you out by the wrist and a plane whirring before you snapped you back to life, your feet turning heavy as you plant yourself on the ground.

Satoru looked back at you.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you shook your head, “I’m not leaving him behind, Satoru, he’s all I have. I need to save him – even if it means I die.”

“You’re not going to die,” he starts off slowly. Satoru moves to place his hands down on your shoulders as if to brace you, even going as far as to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, but you couldn’t really listen, not when the plane hummed to life and remnants of the explosion still clung to your skin.

“Listen, Naoya is a smart man, okay? You know that yourself. He’ll survive, you just need to trust that he’ll make it. Now we have to go before Toji catches up to us and we end up all dying here!” he shook you back to life when your sobs overpowered his speech that fell on deaf ears, and you cried harder, much less like a little girl who quivered in his arms. Satoru sighed, perhaps just as broken from seeing you this way. “He told you to live. Naoya isn’t asking you to die for him, he’s asking you to live and if you don’t get on the plane, we can’t fulfill his wish,” he convinced, but you only bit your lip, still looking back at the car. You could steal it – one punch to his nose and you could easily get away, get back to Naoya, until he said, “You love him right? So respect his wishes.”

You love him. You love Naoya. He would’ve wanted me to live. He asked me to live.

That was the only consolation you could give yourself as you allowed Satoru to take you inside. His right hand man, Geto or something, quietly closed the cabin doors behind you. He was making sure his boss was situated, who in turn was fretting over you. All it took was one last warning glare sent Satoru’s way before he backed off, raising his hands in surrender and falling back to his seat.

Sooner than you’d like, the plane had took off, leaving your heart right behind with each passing second. The higher you flew up in the air, the number you became.

“Where are we going?”

“I have a base in Italy. We should be safe there for a while. Gather resources, plan our next move, contact friends...we’ll be fine,” Satoru pinched the bridge of his nose. It was hard to believe things would be fine when he too seemed restless; whatever happened between him and Toji must’ve really left a scar; not that you cared. You huffed away from Satoru and stared outside the windows instead, your heart dropping the farther Japan was becoming. “Hey. You should get some rest. You’ve had a long day.”

“Whatever,” you snapped at him. You couldn’t stand his voice, not even if he’s saved you.

The only thing that mattered now was living up to Naoya’s wish, and as much as you hated it, Satoru was right. You had to hope he would survive.

The chances of him making it out were low, but knowing Naoya, low chances weren’t zero. As long as he had a little bit of something, he would keep pushing. You just had to place your trust in him.

Kissing your dusty ring, you wiped away your tears one last time, eyes shut tight as you chanted over and over, live, live, live for me! Live! Naoya couldn’t give up that easily. You both had a long way to go, still so many places to travel, thousand more enemies to conquer and defeat. He promised you the fun was just beginning and that you’d get your revenge soon, and Naoya never broke his promises. So you had to trust, had no other choice but to believe that soon he’d be right beside you. He may not be able to completely walk anymore, though none of that mattered. You just wanted to be with him again.

You didn’t realize you’d fallen asleep until Satoru’s hushed whispers woke you up. Sitting up straight, you saw him scowling to whoever he’s talking to on the phone. He looked grim, long, slender fingers caressing his forehead as he sighed. Whatever he heard, it couldn’t have been good, and curiosity got the best of you before you could help it.

“What is it?” Satoru stilled at the sound of your voice, having not expected you to be awake. He refused to meet your eyes as he shut his phone. It angered you further and you stalked his way, slapping a palm down the table before him. “I said, what is it?”

“It’s Naoya...” he said through clenched teeth, still refusing to look you in the eye. “He didn’t make it.”

notes. team naoya...let’s go...cry 😭 when I said I would write more gojo x reader scenes and that they’re still the pairing, I meant it, I just had to take a dark route anyways DO YOU GUYS UNDERSTAND WHY IT TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO UPDATE THIS, I DIDN’T WANT TO DO THIS TO NAOYA BAE 😭 but on the bright side, italy arc is gonna be SHEESH

taglist open (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @sixeyesgojo @shingekiyofeels @q-the-rockaholic @whatthefuckisthatthing @rogueofbullshit @kat-su-ki @kellyyween @sebootyforlife @asshxcm @charlie-xo @aoi-turtle @ladywaifuuwrites @savantsoulfinder @my-reality-is-in-my-head @hannya-quinn @90s-belladonna @tinyfrogsinmybrain @kinekyuroo @evesmores @ambiguous-something @lilith412426 @kakashiharusohma @aizawap @yumeneji @dora-the-grownup @jotazinha @themrsgojo @d34r-s4t4n @marai-t @toji-bee @hai-cool @badsadbby @stesphy @peach-buns-unicorns @misslezah @riri-marley @gracefullyfallinglikeanime @iwaplant @mikiminaccch | bolder users cannot be tagged

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pitaparka · 3 years

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when he’s sick headcanons

note — can you tell i was in a francisco morales mood when i wrote this? also, i’m incredibly soft. i just wanna hold them :’( also also send me your own headcanons!! i wanna hear ‘em!! big love <3 - nat

MANDO

- he doesn’t know how he survived all those bouts of sickness alone when you step in to help him for the first time

- his body aches, and not the usual after-bounty-capture either

- his head is foggy, he can feel the sweat in his helmet, and his breathing is hard

- he can’t tell if it’s coming through the modulator, but when you bring soup up to the cockpit for him, he knows you know

- he takes it gratefully, knowing that if there was nobody else here he would have just gone to bed to sleep it off, dinner vetoed for the night

- your cold fingers wrap around the back of his neck, moving his cape as you do so, and he melts into you

- he doesn’t know that he lets out the smallest whimper when you do this, and it makes you want to tear off his helmet, pull him into your arms, and hold him until he’s better

- but you can’t, so you settle for a hand on his neck, and the tilt of a helmet when he drinks the soup in front of you, as requested

- he definitely has a fever, and maker knows what else

- so you tell him to get some rest, that you’d watch the ship and get him if anything went wrong

- you supervise him down the ladder, just in case, which he finds funny and sweet

- you wish you could squish into his bunk with him, but you don’t want to invade on his personal space, especially while he’s hot and sick

- you you settle into the cockpit, the ship on cruise control, and you check on him every once in a while, keeping grogu occupied and quiet while he gets some well deserved rest

EZRA

- you knew he would get it

- right after you recovered from your illness, he started displaying symptoms of the same one you had just gotten over

- shortness of breath, fever, aches, lethargy

- he had taken such good care of you, so it was only fair that you’d do the same in return

- resources were sparse and quarters were cramped on the green, but you did what you could to make him as comfortable as possible

- his feverish back was pressed up against your chest in a cot designed for one after he’d stripped down to his underwear to avoid overheating

- he really enjoyed you being the big spoon sometimes, and now was one of those times

- when he got too hot from your shared body heat though, you would sit on the floor next to the cot and stroke right behind his ear to get him to fall asleep

- you made sure he ate as much as he could keep down, and you gave him all the fluids you could spare for his speedy recovery

- it broke your heart to see your usually verbose boy so quiet and in pain

- he muttered fever nonsense to no one and whimpered in his sleep

- you moved your cot directly next to his in order to keep a close eye on him

- but you knew that with time he would heal, and that as soon as he started talking to you again he was getting better

FRANKIE

- he sweats through the sheets next to you in the early hours of the night

- you’re the one who wakes up first, and you honestly thought one of you had wet the bed because of how much liquid there was

- but you realize that it’s frankie, back drenched and sweating out whatever flu he had acquired from whoever he had gotten it from

- you wake him from what seemed to be a not great dream anyway, and when he realizes what happened, he apologizes, groggy from sleep and illness

- “no, no! i’m not mad, frankie, you just can’t sleep in this sweetheart. you’ll get more sick. how are you feeling?”

- he curls up deeper under the covers and you get out of bed to kneel next to him

- your hands card through his matted, sweat soaked hair, and you wipe the drops from his jaw

- “do you want a cool shower, baby? you’re soaked.” you suggest, but frankie is so out of it

- he was fine last night, you remember

- sure he didn’t eat dinner, and went to bed early, but you thought maybe he had a late lunch and a long day

- now, helping him out of bed to the shower, you understand that it was early onset symptoms of whatever he was battling

- he pressed heavily to your side and you’re nervous as you strip him down and get him into the tub

- he sways, and you’re not sure what you’ll do if he passes out, or hits his head, so you sit him down, take off the shower head, make sure the water coming out is room temperature, and you run she showerhead over his overheating body

- you’re careful not to get any water in his face and ears, and you don’t wash his hair, just his body with a gentle soap

- you figure this is one of the only times frankie will let you take care of him like this, so you milk it for all it’s worth

- you blow dry his hair on a low setting, just in case he has a headache, you change the sheets of your bed, you lay him down on his side and you bring him close to your chest

- which is how he falls asleep for the next few nights until his illness eventually subsides

WHISKEY

- he curls up in your lap on the couch as soon as he gets home from work, which is how you know something’s wrong

- but you ask him anyway

- “i don’t feel so great, sugar,”

- which scares you, because did he get drugged? is this just a regular illness? is this like a biowarfare mission gone wrong?

- you leave him to get the thermometer, and when you come back, he’s got sad eyes looking up at you that just break your heart

- turns out, it’s not biowarfare. just a fever of 100.4

- you slip your hands up the back of his shirt and it’s so warm, along with his forehead

- he moans weakly at your touch, worn and tired from his extensive mission that day

- he’s definitely been overexerting himself

- as you settle back onto the couch, he settles into your lap again

- you let him rest for a while, but not after long, you realize he’s fallen asleep, and you’re stuck there for god knows how long

- you turn the volume down on the tv just in case, and you stroke behind his ears and you play with his fingers

- it’s best to just let him sleep it off, and you're not opposed to letting him do it on your lap

- you imagine there are statesman resources you can use to help him, but if he’s feeling better after he’s slept it off, then maybe you won’t need to misuse them

JAVIER PEÑA

- you scared the shit out of him, knocking on his door like that

- in your blinding rage, filled with thoughts like “how dare he take the day off to bang hookers, to recover from his hangover, to generally be a hindrance to the fucking DEA,” you had not pondered the possibility that THE javier peña, was sick

- he’s pulling on a t-shirt just as he opens the door, wearing pajama pants, and it startles you to see him so disarmed and casual

- his eyes and nose are red, his hair is disheveled, and he looks... exhausted

- “wow, you look like shit."

- “i feel like shit,” he says, walking away from the door, sniffling

- you take this as an invitation in, and close the door behind you

- he collapses back onto his couch, where you assume he’s been all day, and wraps himself up in a thick afghan blanket

- his hands shake the slightest bit as he opens his lighter to ignite his cigarette

- you take a seat next to him and help him with his lighter, and he nods his thanks to you

- “you’re gonna be late,” he mutters, taking the cigarette from his mouth and blowing out smoke into his apartment, coughing it out halfway

- “i’ll call out,” you offer, eyes wandering up his blanket clad body

- he closes his eyes and lets his head rest on the back of the couch

- “go in. i’m just gonna sleep it off anyway,”

- you lean in close to him and press your hand against his forehead and he freezes, staring at you

- you run your hand down his neck and feel his warmth, and he melts into your touch just a little bit

- you offer to only call out for a few hours to get him settled and make sure he doesn’t die or something, and he lets you, simply because he knows his illness will only get worse

- when your time is up and you have to go back to work, javi’s eaten, gotten some fluids in him, and taken some pain meds

- you let him know that he can call you if he needs anything, and before you even walk out the door is sleeping contently on the couch

MARCUS MORENO

- you find out he’s sick when he calls you, and asks for a favor

- “hey, can you do me the biggest favor ever?”

- he’s super congested. at first you think it might not be him because of how grainy his voice is

- “i hate to do this to you on such short notice, but would you be able to pick up missy? i’m not feeling too hot right now.”

- when you make it back to their home, it's very clear why he thought he wouldn't be able to make it

- he's curled up in bed, tissues piled on his nightstand, trying to get some sleep, but clearly failing

- he notices the two of you come in, and you quietly usher missy away to her own room to entertain herself while her dad tries to get some rest

- he thanks you for picking up missy, and you tell him you'd be there for him whenever he needed you to be

- you make a special phone call as you care for marcus, keeping his curtains closed and running your cool hands up and down his back and shoulders until he felt like he could fall asleep

- you let him know that you'll be right back, that you were going to pick up a few things for him and that if he needed anything at all, just call

- knowing your chicken noodle soup skills were rusty, your special phone call had been to marcus' mother's house, where she had tupperware containers full of soup waiting for you to pick up for him

- when you get back to his house with pain meds, gatorade, and the soup, marcus is passed out in bed

- you don't want to wake him up, but you have a hunch that he hasn't eaten all day, so you whisper his name softly and lightly shake him awake

- he's so grateful and only eats a portion of what he normally does, but anything is better than nothing

- and you don't want him feeling even more sick as a result

- you end up eating the incredibly nostalgic and rich soup with missy at the table and talk to her about your day while marcus gets some sleep

MARCUS PIKE

- it's only when you get home from work that you realize something's wrong with marcus

- he's asleep on the couch

- which would have been fine, if you had worked overtime, or had gotten out late, but it was only four thirty

- plus, you two had planned on going to see a movie you he was excited about tonight in theatres and maybe grab dinner after

- the tv plays lowly in the background, and he hasn’t changed out of his work clothes yet

- he startles when you close and lock the door, and rubs his temples, eyes squeezed shut in pain

- "marcus, are you okay?"

- "yeah, i'm fine." he tells you, and when you mention the date, he looks shocked that he forgot about it

- "oh my god, you're right. i can’t believe i forgot, i’m so sorry babe, i'll get ready right now."

- you tell him it's no biggie, but he insists

- after you've taken off your work clothes and showered quickly for your date, you realize the two of you are most definitely staying in

- he's promptly fallen back asleep on the couch, and he looks adorable

- you put on your pajamas and he does too, and you settle into the couch behind marcus, flipping through channels with him

- he says he doesn't care what you watch, as long as it's not too bright or loud

- so you choose some old black and white movie with the subtitles on

- normally you're the one between his legs, as he rubs your shoulders and plays with your hair

- but this time, he's curled up into you, his back pressed up against your chest, his head tucked into your shoulder using it as a pillow

- you figure you didn't really want to see the new movie anyway, and decide takeout and casablanca was a better way to spend your time with your sick boyfriend

MAX PHILLIPS

- a big baby

- but he IS a vampire and DOES NOT get sick, which slips your mind completely when you come home after some overtime and find him paler than usual on the couch, his head in his hands

- you try to get him to tell you what’s wrong, and he refuses, but he caves when you sit down next to him and start stroking his head, and playing with the hair at the base of his neck

- he tells you that after the whole vampire fiasco with the company, he was set for a while, and has been feeling great, but he hasn’t had human blood in so long that it’s made him weak

- he gives you a sad puppy dog look, and you know he’s being an asshole about it, but you hate to see the dark circles under his eyes or the color his skin turns when he’s like this

- so you oblige, but you give him STRICT instructions to follow, otherwise you won’t do it again

- don’t take more than a pint, don’t leave unnecessary bruises, if you use your safe word he has to stop immediately, and he has to make it as quick and painless as he possibly can

- he nods enthusiastically, and pulls you into his lap

- he nuzzles into your neck, and grabs your chin, anchoring himself to you

- he blows softly on your skin, and presses hard kisses to the area to get your blood flowing and disarm you

- which isn’t fair because he knows your neck is so sensitive

- it’s a sharp prick when he ejects his fangs into your body and you stop moving completely, your hand fisting at his shirt, just listening to your breathing and his soft moans echoed against your skin

- out of habit your rub soothing circles into his back, more to sooth yourself then anything

- minutes pass, and you start to feel light headed and are about to tell him to stop when he pulls away, grinning ear to ear at you

- he’s back on your neck in seconds though, licking and sucking the leaking blood from the small holes he’s left in your skin

- now that, that feels much better than the bloodsucking that was going on originally

- you jump when he presses soft kisses to the sensitive area along your throat and dives a hand between your legs

- looks like someone’s feeling better already

MAX LORD

- tries to power through it as much as he can with pain killers and cough syrups, but after he almost passes out at dinner after a week of symptoms, you beg him to take at least a day off to recover

- that morning, his hair is a mess, he missed a button on his shirt, and his tie was uneven

- he was about to put on two different colored socks when he begrudgingly obliges

- you unbutton his shirt and help him take off his tie

- it’s easy to bring him back to bed after that, and you let him hold you from behind like a teddy bear, no matter how uncomfortable his arm is shoved under your neck

- usually he likes to be held, but he can feel his own back burning up, so he decides to hold you instead

- he whimpers in his sleep, plagued by fever dreams and his traumatic past

- so when he wakes you up in the middle of the night, something he so very rarely does, you’re concerned

- “i’m sorry, for waking you, i just... i just need... you... i want—“

- it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out he needs a hug

- you hold him and rub his back until he falls back asleep again, in your arms

- when he wakes up with a killer headache, you fight to keep him in bed again, rubbing his temples and pressing kisses to his forehead

- he falls back asleep in less than five minutes

- needless to say, one more day off couldn’t hurt

OBERYN MARTELL

- it’s not often than he gets sick, surprisingly, considering how close he gets to so many different people

- when you arrive at his chambers that morning, the guards seem keen on not letting you in

- you argue with them, but they insist oberyn didn’t want anyone in there

- you call them out, obviously upset and visibly frustrated when his doors creak open and you see him, in a robe, hair messy and pressed down to his forehead

- he quietly tells the guard to let you in, and you’re a little confused

- he sits down on his bed and looks up at you with guilty eyes

- “apologies, my love, but I don't want you to see me like this”

- you scoff and roll your eyes at him, moving in front of him

- you take his head in your hands, and he stares up at you

- “apology accepted, but i’m offended, my prince.”

- he scrunches his eyebrows and presses his chin to your stomach

- you run your hands through his hair and he brings his hands to your waist

- “you think mere illness could keep me away? keep me away from you?”

- his confusion melts into a small smile, and he lets his head rest against your belly as you pull him into you

- “can i get you anything, oberyn? wine, medicine?”

- “no, my love. just you is enough for me.”

PERO TOVAR

- wants to be left alone for the most part

- grumpy in general, and it doesn't get better when he's sick

- he'll let you wipe a cool cloth over his forehead and neck, and doesn't complain

- he says he doesn’t want you there because he doesn’t want you to catch what he has

- you know, survival rates are low for things like this at this point in history

- but really, like oberyn, he doesn’t want you to see him weak

- he’s afraid it’ll ruin your image of him in your mind

- william asks you to get some rest, as they can’t afford to risk more days at the campsite with sick travelers

- so you oblige, keeping your distance from pero, but you stay vigilant

- you stand guard for him for most of the night, listening to him breathe, watching his chest rise and fall, until you eventually fall asleep too

- but you’re up early, with the rest of the men, except pero, who sleeps well into daylight

- the rest of them take off, desperate to find something for dinner, but you stay back with him, stroking his forehead, a gentleness that’s rarely ever been afforded to him, listening to him ramble half in english, half in spanish, but he has your full attention

- it would be a rough few days until he recovered, but his muttered thanks and appreciation for you was more than enough for you to do it all over again if he ever needed you to

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normally-alexis · 3 years

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||Bastard ☄

Pairings - Sapnap x Reader x Punz

It's very cold at night, the moonlight reflecting against the water and the cold floor. You were sitting on the grass waiting for the moment. You were wearing Punz's Jacket ever since he had left to join the Badlands.

Wearing sapnap's bandana, They both had left you for either the Badlands or Dream. You put your feet in the water but pull it out because it's cold and something bites your foot. You look in the water and it's a fish swimming away.

You get off of the ground and walk back over to your house, you open the door and enter inside of the house. You get very warm inside remembering that Sapnap and Punz used to live with you. You close the door and walk over towards your bed.

You sit down on your bed and fix your sleeping position. A lot of memories flow throughout your mind, there was a time before when Punz, You, and sapnap all did things together it was new but it only ended up hurting you but it felt good.

You had to get a new bed after that but they would go soft on you. You didn't see them in a while so you were pretty horny and lonely. You put the blanket over you and place your head on a pillow.

You try shaking the thought of Punz being on top of you and Sapnap being underneath you. Pounding into you stuffing you up with their Climax, You close your legs because you know that your hands would begin touching yourself.

You try to sleep it away because it was already late and you wanted to wake up early and try something with Bad. You close your eyes keeping them shut, it'll take you a few minutes to even attempt to sleep but once you'd hopefully fall asleep you'd stay asleep until the morning.

After probably seven minutes you fall asleep deeply, It's hard sleeping alone but you usually got used to it. Punz and sapnap would always sleep with you before they left and you would almost do anything together.

You were thinking about having a platonic date With Punz and Sapnap but it was leading towards a very sexual act, but it wasn't them being soft on you like all the other times. You were in between the two of them and they were trying to fight over who would go inside of your first.

In the process of them fighting they both to try to shove themself in your clit. It hurts due to both being very big when hard. You struggle to take both of them at the same time so they pull out, Punz places you on top of him.

He starts thrusting but slowly and less rough. You aren't very loosened up with him since you just took two cocks at once and it probably stretched you up. It feels nice whenever he's soft and gentle with you.

Sapnap on the other hand wanted you to take him roughly. When punz was thrusting he would possibly add more spread or force into it whenever you would be ready to take him. Sapnap grabs onto your waist and pulls you away from punz.

Sapnap puts you on the ground glaring over you, he enters inside of you not taking a moment to slow himself down or pause. You cover up your moans with soft pants escaping your lips in the process.

You wake up from a very dirty and sexual Dream and you sweat a lot wiping yourself off. The time has moved forward it's possibly around six because the sun is still rising. You get out of the bed and walk towards the dresser. You grab some decent clothing and strip your old clothes off.

You weren't hungry at the moment so you just put on some sneakers and leave. You open the door and walk out of the door closing it. You walk along the prime path past Tommy's old house, You keep walking along the path.

You were going to visit the egg to see if Punz was there, You see the red vines and you follow them back towards where they originally started. You reach the room of the egg shortly after, you walk down the stairs and hear two people talking.

You get a little closer but hide behind the wall, you peak at the two people talking. Punz and the egg were talking it seems. You come from behind the wall and run up to him, "Punz!" You jump on top of him mid-conversation and you hug him tightly.

He looks up at you and his eyes aren't as blue as they were before. He hugs you back and rubs your back. "Why'd you visit?" He asks you, the real reason why you was that you really missed him.

"I missed you," You look down at him and place your hands on his chest. "What about sapnap," He moves his hands down on your waist and grips onto it. "Go get him for me." He removes you from on top of him and he gets up.

He walks towards the entrance of the egg room and exits it. He's probably going to be gone for a while so you look around to see if there's anything that could be useful to play with or distract yourself with.

The egg was huge and you never knew why Punz stayed away from you for so long. It didn't seem useful at the moment but you never questioned it. You lay on the ground looking at the look up at the ceiling.

You hear sounds shaking from above the ground. Some dirt falls on your face and you sit up wiping it off. You hear a few footsteps coming from the doorway so you'd naturally assume it's Punz and Sapnap.

Sapnap and Punz enter the room walking over towards you."{Y/N}?" your name gets called and you glance over towards the voice. "Sapnap!" You get up off of your feet and look up at him, it's been so long so you have all the right to be excited.

You grab Sapnap's hands and kiss the left side of his cheek, Punz pulls you away from Sapnap and brings your attention to him. You kiss the side of his cheek but he turns his face so that you kiss him on his lips.

Both of them are greedy for attention since sapnap used to always the Third wheel he doesn't like Third-wheeling in his own relationship. Sapnap grabs you and holds you closer to him, Punz puts his hands in his pockets and sighs.

Sapnap places you on the vines and you fall back since there's no back part to keep you up. He gets on top of you. "Want to finish where we last started?" The last thing you all did together was have sex in a risky and public area.

"Sure, guess punz won't join." You were just teasing him as you place your hands on sapnap's joggers. He puts his hands on your shorts and pulls them down revealing your underwear, your shorts fall down and you kick them off to the side.

You pull his joggers down and he's moving your panties down to your ankles. He pulls his underwear down and directs himself inside of you. You hold onto sapnap's back and Punz looks over at you.

Punz walks over to you and he stands above you and zips his pants down and pulls is boxers down. Sapnap starts thrusting and pounding inside of your vagina. Punz directs himself into your mouth and makes you suck him off.

You were a little bit wet from the night before and the Dream that you had. You were taking most of sapnap's cock inside of you but he wanted you to take it all in. You start sucking Punz off and you spit on his cock making it a little bit softer.

You choke on his cock and then take it out of your mouth for a moment. Your moans started escaping so you put his cock back in your mouth. Punz was grunting pretty loudly and Sapnap was already fucking your brains out.

You were very close to Climaxing but you didn't want to admit it. You were clenching your walls against his cock which made him want to climax inside of you. After he does a few deep thrusts inside of you and hits your g-spot he slows down his pace for a moment.

He pushes himself inside of you and climaxes, your walls were drenched in his cum and when he pulls out you leak out squirting some of your own liquid out. Punz pulls himself out of your mouth and he climaxes on your face.

You sit down in your own mess and Punz and Sapnap clean themselves up. They walk out of the room leaving you alone once more. "We'll be back idiot."

Taking two dicks at once? You're such a slut.

#mcyt smut #dsmp smut #mcyt x reader #mcyt x reader smut #smut #sapnap smut #punz smut

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justanobsessedfangirl · 3 years

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The Sacrifice Part 2 - The Maze Runner Minho Imagine

Request from @elizabeth-brown: hey when your requests will be open can you do 'the maze runner' one with minho. where one day when new greenie was coming up he had letter with him. on it there was written that if they sacrificed y/n they would let everyone out. so keepers decided to vote. most of them voted 'yes' so without any emotions Alby kick y/n into the maze. then minho realized his feelings. y/n survived the maze and WCKED took her. after one year she escaped WCKED and ran into the scorch. Minho missed her miserably. y/n searched the safe heaven. and when Group A searched safe heaven they saw y/n and she was so mad. you can end it however you want either she forgives them or not. and please tag me

Masterlist

Part 1

Author’s Note: Thank you guys so much for the kind words! I really appreciate all of it! :)

Word Count: 3.8k

The sun was rising. You stared up at it as you walked, your cracked lips parted, mouth dry beyond belief. The cloth you’d wrapped around your head was already growing warm. Beneath your long-sleeved shirt and jeans, your body was scarred with sunburns. Your backpack hung heavy on your shoulders and scraped against your back painfully. Still, you kept walking through the sand.

Crumbling buildings lined the barren street. At the end, next to an intersection, you saw one that still had an intact roof. You willed yourself to move faster, but your steps continued in the same plodding manner as before. The sun beat down heavier.

A dry wind whispered past, bringing swirls of sand to flight. They looked beautiful in the golden rays of the morning but cut like glass as they whipped past your cheeks. With a grimace, you reached a weathered hand up and pulled some loose cloth farther over your face, squinting your eyes for protection. The sound of your heavy breathing filled your ears.

How familiar that was. How familiar exertion was. Before you could stop yourself from thinking, from remembering, you saw his face. He was by your side, smiling, goading you to run faster. He was betting you that he could reach the doors first.

“If I win, you owe me half your dinner,” came his playful tease, so vividly that you almost thought it was real. If you let your gaze wander, you could barely make out a mirage of him jogging ahead of you.

What was it you’d said, back in that other life, where you ran the Maze and lived in the Glade and weren’t as alone? You smacked your lips together now, looking for any moisture, and croaked, in a hoarse voice, “What do I get if I win?” The effort made you cough. Stopping in your tracks, you doubled over hacking. You expected to see the worn stone of the Maze beneath your feet, but there was only sand. Knives scraped your throat. You tasted blood.

“You can have anything you want,” Minho responded. You lifted your head, hoping for a glimpse of his face and seeing only sand.

Tears filled your eyes. You wanted Minho with you, right now. You wanted to not be alone. You wanted to not be here, to not have made any of these choices, to not have to keep going and keep trying and keep surviving all because of one promise. You wanted to reach the doors -- no, not the Maze doors, never the Maze doors again, the doors to a crumbling building in a crumbling town in the sun-baked, sand-ridden, abandoned Scorch.

Straightening up, you started for the building again. You reached it in a few long, purposeful strides. The door hung half off its hinges. You slipped inside, shutting it as best you could behind you, hoping that would keep at least some sand out. The inside was blessedly dark. The front room seemed kind of like a cafeteria, with a few tables and chairs and a long counter at the back. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you remembered the last cafeteria you’d been in. You wanted to spit on this place as payback.

Instead, you walked behind the counter, sunk to your knees, shrugged off your backpack, and curled into a ball. Your head pounded. You squeezed your eyes closed, pressed your palms to your temples, tried to hold back any more tears. The memory of Minho floated to the front of your mind again.

“No need to cry,” you could hear him saying. You could almost feel him tuck a finger under your chin, like he’d done before, and raise your head. “I’m still here.” And then you opened your eyes, hoping to see that cocky grin that would make the whole world would seem a little better.

But Minho wasn’t there. You weren’t in the Glade anymore. You weren’t even with WICKED anymore. You were somewhere in the middle of the Scorch, alone and trying to survive and failing.

With trembling fingers, you unzipped your backpack and pulled out your last bottle of water. It was half-empty. You stared at it numbly. How far could half a bottle of water take you? When you used to run the Maze, a lifetime ago, you never went in without at least one canteen full. Minho had teased you during your first run for taking three. You wondered what he would say now.

“We’ll figure it out together. We’ll get out together.” That’s what he would say. That’s what he had said, right before you went into the Maze for the last time.

I tried, Minho. You wanted to scream it out to the Scorch, let every damn Crank within a hundred miles of you hear it. Maybe Minho would hear it too, back at the WICKED compound, back in the Glade. He said he would find you. You’d repeated his words so many times in your head that they were practically imprinted in your brain. They were like a touchstone, something you remembered for luck and courage.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he’d said.

You’d never said it back. You wished you’d said it back.

You forced yourself to stop remembering and took a sip of water. It was like ice filtering through magma cracks, soothing, soothing, soothing, and then gone, evaporating and leaving behind seething bubbles of lava. You wanted more. You wanted so much more for yourself.

You twisted the cap back on and shoved your water into your bag before you did something you’d regret. Leaning against the counter, you let your eyes close. Fatigue made your limbs heavy, and the warm air settled over you like a blanket. You hoped the sun would be gone when you woke up. Then you would walk, as you had for countless nights, with no real directions in mind, only the understanding that you needed to keep moving or else you would die. Somewhere out there, there was a safe haven.

But in your dreams, there was darkness, and in the darkness, there were Grievers. The Maze walls, dripping with ivy, closed in around you as you ran. Your breaths came short and fast, more from fear than effort. You had no bag, no weapons, just the shoes on your feet and a little bit of hope in your chest. But the Grievers were closing in.

Mechanical limbs whirred, slamming against the Maze floor so forcefully the ground seemed to shake. You whipped your head around, caught a glimpse of them, turned back and ran faster, looked again and saw them even closer. Metal clanged together, the sound of razor-sharp fangs gnashing, slick with slime. A rush of wind sliced past your arm. You tried to move faster, just a little faster, just enough to keep narrowly avoiding the Griever’s claws, just enough, please, just enough to make it to sunrise--

A wave of fire burned a line across your back. The pain was white-hot, so bad you couldn’t keep your eyes open, you were stumbling and faltering and barely moving and the Griever was going to get you, only with your next step you felt nothing but open space and then you were falling and falling and falling.

You hit the ground so hard the air went out of you, and only then did you realize you’d been screaming. A moment of shock passed. Then you shrieked again. Your back burned with pain, but it wasn’t fire, not like you’d thought at first, it was a cut, huge and sprawling and parting the flesh of your back. Blood drenched your shirt. You screamed, blind with pain and fear, waiting for the Griever to finish you off or sting you and send you into a spiral of even greater misery.

Something grabbed your arms, hoisted you up, strapped you down. The Grievers have me, they’ve got me, they’re going to kill me, you thought, even as you felt human hands and heard human voices and saw human faces.

“No!” You caught a glimpse of one of them holding a syringe, a Griever in disguise. Twisting away, trying to avoid it, you let out a scream so loud you thought your vocal cords would be torn to shreds, just like your back, just like the ravaged mess that was left of your back. The needle pierced your skin.

Immediately, your yells dropped off. The people or the Grievers or the Grievers masquerading as people laid you face down on a stretcher. You couldn’t move your neck, or your arms, or your feet, but every step they took as they carried you sent bolts of lightning through your body. Your face was wet with tears, with blood. The jostling stopped. Every nerve in your body rebelled in pain, and then there was a cold hand on your cheek, forcing your chin up. Grinning down at you was the face of the devil.

You woke now with a start, a cool sheen of sweat coating your body, phantom pains chilling your back. Your heart thundered wildly. Acting on pure instinct, you shot to your feet, looking frantically around the room. She would be there, you were sure of it. The devil, with her blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun, her lips painted red with the blood of her victims.

But the room was dark and empty and you were alone.

You untensed with a long, slow exhalation. Tiny daggers still ran up and down your spine, dancing along the scars the WICKED doctors had said they couldn’t fix.

“An unfortunate variable,” the devil had said about the Grievers, “but necessary.”

Necessary.

You spat on the floor, wishing it was her pristine white cafeteria, half-hoping you’d look up and see her standing there so you could strangle her. But that thought was fleeting and your head shot back up in fear, scanning the room again and again to reassure yourself that Dr. Paige was nowhere to be seen.

When you were sure there was no one lurking in the night-shadowed corners, you hefted your backpack onto your shoulders and made for the door. Outside, the desert air was chill and dry. The occasional wind stirred the sand as you walked, footsteps making quiet whispers along the dusty sidewalk. Moonlight paved the way forward.

Goosebumps covered your arms as you replayed your dream, your memories, over again. Yes, the Grievers had gotten you, but not the ones in the Maze. It was the hidden Grievers, the ones who said they were good, and that they were going to save the world, and that you were helping.

“Thank you for participating, Y/N,” Dr. Paige had said. “I’m sure it wasn’t a pleasant experience. The data we gathered on the group’s response to a requested sacrifice will prove very useful, I assure you.” And she’d smiled at you. She’d actually smiled, pointy, predatory canines on full display behind her parted red lips. “The data from your response will also be very beneficial. Thank you once more for your participation.”

You were too shocked. You were in too much pain. The synapses in your brain weren’t firing correctly, still stuck trying to piece together that the sacrifice was some kind of test. An unfortunate variable. “What...what happens next?”

Dr. Paige had already left. Someone lower in the chain of command gave you a nonanswer about your role in Phase One being complete.

“But what happens in Phase Two?”

There was no answer to that question, no matter how many times you asked. You asked when you were stable enough to be moved to your own room, when you were compliant enough to walk the halls of the facility with a chaperone, when you were obedient enough to eat in the cafeteria among the staff members.

“WICKED is good,” they’d say. And then they would smile at you.

You shuffled through the sand. Reaching a hand, which you pretended wasn’t trembling, into the side pocket of your bag, you pulled out a meal replacement pouch with WICKED emblazoned on its side. Even as you ate, you worried. The dream loomed over you like a heavy cloud, and your food supply was dwindling. You wished for a sip of water, just a taste, a small trickle to wet your lips, something to help the powdery bar go down.

You wished you’d started hoarding food at WICKED earlier. It was only when you noticed that change was coming, that the air was electric and the people were alive, that you started to slip items from the cafeteria into your bag. The doctors had stopped ordering you in for blood tests and scans, which they had pretended were for your back, and then they stopped sending you a chaperone. It was almost like freedom.

“Code Green. I repeat, Code Green. All personnel begin preparations for Phase Two. I repeat…” The message came over the speakers while you were in your room, a barebones cell with a cot and a desk. In a flash, you were on your feet, pouncing on the opportunity. You slung your WICKED bag over your shoulders, ignoring the discomfort as it pressed into your bandaged back. Peering through the crack in your door, you couldn’t see anyone in the hall. The lights were flashing in time with the announcement, strobes of green slicing across the walls. Holding your breath in anticipation, you tried the door handle. Unlocked.

Heart fluttering, you pulled it open a crack and slipped through, shutting it gently behind you. No chaperone sitting outside. No guards patrolling. No people at all. You bolted down the hall.

Thinking about it now, as you finished your second to last meal replacement, the perishable food long since gone, you wondered why it was so easy.

Phase One. Phase Two. Thank you for your participation. An unfortunate variable. Unfortunate unfortunate unfortunate thank you for participating thank you for the data thank you for trying thank you for dying. Phase Two, I should have raided the cafeteria will you be in the cafeteria, Minho are you in the kitchen? Where are you where am I why is this happening what is--

Welcome to Phase Two.

You crumpled the meal replacement package in your hand and threw it into the air, letting it fly with the wind.

Minho’s voice was in your head. “I’ll raid the kitchen, the Med-jack Hut, bring us weapons.”

You shook your head and it faded. “I would have done it if you were there,” you said. Your voice was a croak. You cleared your throat and tried, “I would have…” The words floated away. I would have tried harder to survive.

“I tried so hard, Minho.” You thought of your bottle of water, only a few sips left. “I tried to wait for you in the Maze, but WICKED took me.” Grievers and white-clothed doctors and searing pain. “I tried to wait for you at WICKED, but...I think they let me escape.” An unlocked door, no patrolling guards. The vast expanse of the Scorch beyond, and a snippet of an overheard conversation about a safe haven at the end. “I tried to reach the end. But I don’t know if I can do this anymore.” Sand. So much sand. Lightning storms and a burning, vengeful sun, and a throat so dry it hurt. “I can’t do this anymore.”

And still, you walked. Because there was nothing else to do. Because you were a Runner and Runners never stopped. Because you thought this might be another test, another phase, and you wanted to reach the end. Because the mirage of Minho was nearby, talking.

“We’re almost there,” he said. You rubbed your sand-crusted eyes and tried to find him. “We have to keep going.”

Other voices chimed in, pitched low and hard to hear. You hoped you could hallucinate Newt, too, and maybe Zart and Frypan, who had tried to help, had tried, just like you tried. You moved faster, feet cleaving through drifts of sand.

“There it is!”

You missed the sound of an excited Minho. You remembered the first time he’d had a little too much to drink at a bonfire, and he’d picked you up and twirled you around. You’d never smiled so much.

The memory used to be good, then it turned painful, and now you were just numb.

You kept walking. Around you, the city was fading into sand. Ahead stood a tall dune. You wanted to stop and stare and convince yourself to turn around. But you kept walking. Behind the dune, you’d see Minho and Newt and Zart and Frypan and maybe even Alby, and maybe you would forgive Alby, or maybe not, but you would still see him because everyone would be there.

You boot punched a hole into the sand dune, sending streams of gritty yellow dust cascading down the slope. Stepping forward again, you sunk into sand up to your mid-calf. Again and again, and then you stumbled and fell in up to your elbows, and still, you crawled.

“We can do this,” Minho said, from somewhere above or behind or by your side. He was climbing with you, barely out of sight. His playful grin was audible.

“Bet I can beat you to the top,” you said before he could.

“What do I get if I win?” he asked.

You smiled and there were tears in your eyes and sand on your cheeks. “You can have anything you want.” And you climbed higher.

“I want you to say it back. Please say it back, Y/N. Please.” His voice was fading. You were leaving him behind as you neared the top.

Sand burrowed into the lines of your face, past the seams of your clothes, finding every nook and cranny of your body to hide in. It was in your mouth, your ears, your eyes. You struggled to breathe. Your head felt as light as a cloud. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” you finally promised as you reached the empty crest. Still on hands and knees, you peered over the other side of the dune. The slope was empty. Everything was empty.

You rolled onto your back, eyes shut against the fading night sky. Your arm bumped against something stiff. Reaching a hand out blindly, groping for it, you came back with a stick. You looked at it through squinted eyes. Atop the stick was a flag, and on the flag in big, thick letters, the same font WICKED used for everything, were the words, “Safe Haven.”

You laughed. The bitter chuckle was alone in the Scorch. Overhead, the sky was lightening, and soon you would be alone in the daylight of the Scorch, alone in the Safe Haven.

Shrugging your backpack off, you reached inside for your water and the last of your food. The bottle was empty. You didn’t remember finishing it, but you figured you must have. You chucked it to the side, listening as it rolled down the sand dune. You wouldn’t need that anymore. The air grew warmer as dawn approached and you opened your last meal replacement. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you could hear voices. You wondered if you were going crazy, decided you didn’t care because you had tried Minho I really tried I’m sorry please promise me I’ll see you tomorrow please don’t let it end like this please.

You took a bite of the crumbling meal replacement bar and immediately spit it back out. It had soaked up the last bit of moisture in your mouth. You tossed the package to the side, where you’d abandoned your water and your will.

The sky grew pink and orange and yellow, and, finally, there was the sun, high in the sky, and you had no idea how much time had passed while you stared, and you didn’t care. There was no further destination in mind. This was it. And with the sun up there and you down here, you hoped that maybe this wouldn’t count as dying alone.

“There it is!” Minho again. Funny how he kept saying that. And then the voices of the other Gladers chimed in again. You wondered if you would keep replaying that moment until you finally passed. You wondered how it would feel. You wondered if there was water on the other side.

The sand rushed down the sides of the dune in waterfalls. You could hear it, even if you didn’t have the energy to look. It sounded like a whisper. Beneath the whisper was the panting of a group of people.

Runners, you thought. All of the Runners before and all of the Runners after, coming to take me away. Would Minho be among them? Was he dead, like you and like those sad souls who’d been killed by the Grievers (An unfortunate variable, but necessary) and all of the people who’d gotten the Flare, which you barely understood because no one had answered any of your questions?

Why is this happening and where am I going and what do I do and how did I get here and when can I go home, please bring me home, I want to go home and I want to see Minho one last time because I never promised him back and I should have.

“Y/N?”

Minho. You didn’t have the energy to speak or even open your eyes to see the hallucination.

“Y/N!” Feet pounding against sand, then hands on your arms, looping around your back, pulling you close and shielding you from the sun. “Wake up, Y/N. Clint!”

No, Clint wasn’t supposed to be here. Clint had voted for you to be sent into the Maze. You were pretty sure you used to hate him for that, but hate took so much energy, and you just wanted to pretend Minho was holding you until you didn’t have to think anymore.

The people nearby talked unintelligibly, oscillating between murmurs and gleeful shouts. There was cotton in your ears and a blindfold over your eyes and strong hands on your back, propping you up. Then there was a splash of water on your face and the world opened up again.

There was Minho. Better than in your memories, because he was here, in full color, so perfect you needed to squint. He was on his knees and holding you. Above, Clint was pouring water over your head. All around you were Gladers.

“Minho?” you croaked, although there was no question who it was. Dark brown eyes, now filled with tears. Full lips curved up in a smile. Scatters of freckles across his cheeks. Minho.

Minho nodded and pulled you into a hug. “I thought…” he trailed off. Then he laughed, a sound so bright and so happy that the water on your skin felt a touch cooler, the sun on your shoulders a shade dimmer. “I should’ve known you’d survive.”

“There’s no safe haven,” you said, the words bitter on your tongue.

Minho shook his head, still buried in your neck. “We’ll figure it out together.”

Smiling, you pressed a hand to his cheek, coaxing him to look at you. When he did, you leaned in and finally felt at home.

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Author's Note: I wanted to put a longer, more serious note at the end instead of the beginning so I wouldn't deter any newcomers from reading. I just wanted to say thanks to everyone for letting me try out this style! I'm not very happy with how this turned out but it was good practice. Hopefully, I can use this experience and write better pieces in the future. Thanks again for letting me experiment and for the encouragement. And my requests are always open :)

Tag List: @officialfictionalwreck @elizabeth-brown @newtsgirl-hehe @jjjmaybank @adoregin

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