#1.3k prompt night

[internetgremlin-writes]

Hiii! Congratulations!🎉

Could I request 2 & 106 with Max Verstappen🥵

Thank you!

2 - "Wait a minute, are you jealous?"

106 - "I'm going to fuck you until you forget that asshole's name,"

Thank you anon!! Angry Max just hits different. And a POV switch? Hope you likey

Warnings: SMUT!!! Jealous/possessive max

Prompt night info and list to request your own ficlet/HCs here!

He'd won.

He won the first-ever race in Miami. He was the F1 world champion. He won nearly every race he finished. He was funny, charming, and sweet when he wanted to be. He thought he was pretty good lucking, tall enough and he was ripped. He had nothing to be insecure about but somehow looking across the packed Miami club to where someone else was talking to you, he couldn't help but feel like the little boy left at the gas station.

Lost, sure, but also bubbling with rage. Boiling, in fact.

Max knew he was the jealous type, but he had no rights over you. You weren't his girlfriend, in fact, you were barely his friend. But that didn't stop the fact that he was seething, his stomach feeling like a ball of snakes as he watched the guy touch your arm. He was too close, far too close. Whispering in your ear, his other hand tucking your hair behind your ear. Max was gripping the beer bottle in his hand so tightly that his knuckles were white. He was vaguely aware of someone speaking in his own ear, another stupid American who didn't understand a thing about the sport.

You laughed, and his stomach dropped through the floor because, shit, what if you really liked this guy? In the dark of the club, with sweaty bodies packed in and multi-coloured lights sweeping the floor, anyone could look hot he reasoned. But still, who were you to be flirting with anyone who looked at you? Well, you, he guessed. Because he knew you belonged to no one.

Max had met you a few months ago. You worked... somewhere in the paddock. He'd been meaning to ask you for a while but the problem was, whenever you were around Max didn't want to do much talking at all. You didn't seem to mind, because every time he saw you it ended up the same way. In his driver's room, against one of the lorries, in the back of his car, he didn't care so long as it was you that he was coming undone over. It was strictly casual, he knew that, no strings attached. You barely knew anything about each other but that didn't stop the fact that he was completely consumed by you.

Especially when you were here, in that stupid little dress and those stupid heels that made your legs look like literal heaven, shaking your hips to the beat of the music. He could have fucked you right there on the dance floor. Except you'd not even looked at him once.

He didn't understand it. Girls at these parties loved guys, especially the drivers themselves. And the winner? He was usually drowning in attention, he had the pick of the bunch if you will. Maybe that was why he was so obsessed with you because you were absolutely not obsessed with him.

The guy's hand landed on your ass, and even at this distance, Max could see him moving closer to you and his fingers closing around the soft flesh. He leant his head down and Max found himself completely and totally fixated on you, begging please god please don't let him kiss you, and the relief when you ducked out at the last second, allowing him access to your neck only. Still, it was enough for Max.

He downed the rest of his beer and cut his way quickly across the dancefloor. He must have had that glower he was constantly being told off about on his face because no one tried to approach him or congratulate him, and it took him less than a song's length to get close to you. Now you were so close he found himself freezing. He didn't know what to do, what if you actually wanted to be with the guy that was wrapping himself around you instead of him?

He was about to turn around and leave you to your night of fun when you spotted him. You held his gaze with confident ease and Max realised that there was no way he could leave you there even if he wanted to. He felt like a deer caught in headlights, his mind slow to catch up with his body. He decided to ignore the guy, which was hard because the little voice in his head that usually made him win races was currently screaming at him to punch him in the face and not stop until he didn't get up.

"Can I have this dance?" He finally managed, and there was a not-so-secret part of him that was thrilled when you immediately dropped the guy, who looked a little disappointed, but very quickly shrugged it off when he saw who Max was, and left the pair of you to it. You wasted no time on getting to work with Max. Your hip-shaking and twisting hands seemed aimless before, except now they were on him. Max's pants were uncomfortably tight within seconds and he could feel his resolve already dissolving right before his eyes. You were an angel, or maybe a sorceress. Because you had him under some kind of spell for sure.

Throwing all caution to the wind Max grabbed your wrist and before the song had finished you were out of the club and walking home. He didn't hesitate to put his jacket on your shoulders. It was a mild night in Miami, but you just looked so damn good in his clothes.

"Who was that?" He couldn't sound light and curious if he tried.

"Why?" He hated that you sounded so light, so unbothered.

"I just want to know," he knew he blew it already. His voice has that textbook sulk.

"Wait a minute, are you jealous?" How had you clocked on so easily? Was he that transparent around you? Your eyes were sparkling, the smile tugging at your lips teasing him, begging him to come closer to you. Max gritted his teeth. Admitting his feelings was hard enough on a good day, but now? A little drunk in front of a girl he barely knew? If he didn't think it might just give him the edge on you he would have stayed silent.

"Yes," he forced the word out, and the reward was oh so worth it. Your eyes widened, lips, full and pink and begging to be kissed, puffing out, a silent 'Oh' escaping you. Max was done. He picked up the pace, you falling into his quickstep and he didn't dare look at you or say another word to you until you were inside his hotel.

He took the stairs, three flights. It was stupid and time-wasting, but he couldn't trust himself in the lift with you. He'd fuck you against the mirror without a second thought for the CCTV cameras.

He pulled you inside his hotel room, and turned you, pushing you against the wall. Your chest was rising quickly, giving it away that maybe you liked this too. He couldn't wait any longer, his lips crashing onto, the turmoil of emotions he'd been building in the club exploding like a geyser as he pushed them all onto you. And you, Jesus fucking Christ, you.

You were moaning right into his mouth, your tongue battling with his, your hands raking through his hair, pulling harder than you needed to but it felt so damn good. You felt so damn good. It was primal, Max knew that, but he didn't care. He had gone past the point of no return and he needed you now.

"I'm going to fuck you until you forget that asshole's name," he spat, not angry in the slightest with you but the thought of that guy touching you made the rage boil within him once more and before you had time to argue he had your thighs wrapped around his waist and he was thrusting into you with relentless force and fuck it was so good and you were so tight. You were making filthy sounds, his name rolling off your tongue with every thrust. Max couldn't even kiss you because he knew he'd cum the second he did.

The feeling of you contracting around him hard and screaming his name, and his name only was enough. He came so hard he saw stars, and you.

You caught his lips in a sweet kiss and Max knew he didn't have a prayer against you.

#word counts are relative lol #1.3k prompt night #this is getting busy i LOVE IT #max verstappen #hot max #angry max #max verstappen smut #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #formula one #F1

[sillygooseassociation]

Okay, imagine thinking that Jason is going to be away for Christmas and not bothering to decorate because it's not the same without him 🥲 but he manages to get the time off and surprises you by having the place decorated when you come home from work and getting cozy by the fireplace [wink wink nudge nudge ya know what I'm sayin? 😘] woooooweee yes

jason felt like such a piece of shit when he told you he wouldn't be making it home in time for your first christmas as a married couple. it was out of his control of course, he was in LA finishing up the last details of the season three trailer, how was he supposed to know the entire country would be shut down thanks to snow storms? but seeing the heartbreak on your face - even though you tried to hide it - when he told you he wouldn't be home in time for christmas? he hated himself for making you feel that way.

it worked out in terms of the kids, they were spending the day with olivia and then would be with you and jason on the 26th, so at least their holiday wasn't ruined. you told him it was okay, that it wasn't a big deal, but he knows that isn't the truth. milestones are so important to the both of you and here he was, missing your first christmas as husband and wife.

sure, you had the christmas tree up, but you hadn't decorated, you were waiting for jason to come home, but after finding out that he wouldn't be home until at least the 26th, the christmas spirit left you entirely. you wrapped the kids' presents of course and you knew you would need to decorate the tree before they came over, but it would wait. you would wait until the last possible moment, putting off the emotional feeling of spending your favorite time of year alone.

when you woke up on the 25th, you kinda sulked around the house, though you would never admit it. you got dressed, putting on some leggings, one of jason's sweaters, and a coat before leaving the house, heading down the street to a deli you loved, thankful that it was still open on the holiday so you could get a bagel. you passed the time by walking a couple blocks around the city, enjoying the snow on the ground and some of the lights, but your mood quickly turned sour again when seeing all the couples and families walking around. on a day all about love and giving to those in your life, your husband was across the country and the two most important kids in your life were elsewhere.

you headed back to your place, planning on drowning your sorrows in wine, ice cream, and sad movies, a plan you realize is eerily similar to ted's in season two of jason's show. you're so out of it, you don't notice the car parked in front of your brownstone, or that your door was unlocked despite you always making sure to fasten the deadbolt. it's not until you hear christmas music coming from the house sound system that you realize something is off. what the fuck kind of murderer puts on a soundtrack for killing and how did they get access to your bluetooth?

you pick up daisy's small plastic shovel, discarded next to the door after your snowman building from last week, holding it up, ready to strike, as you carefully walk to the living room. just as you turn the corner, you walk into someone's chest and scream, "PLEASE DON'T KILL ME." your eyes are closed tightly, awaiting the stab to your gut or hands choking you out, only to open your eyes after two familiar hands are placed on your shoulders, "jason?"

your husband looks at you with wide eyes, his brows furrowed as his mouth gapes open in a mix of shock and confusion, "what the fuck, babe?" you instantly drop the shovel, practically jumping into his arms as you wrap yours around his neck, burrowing your face into his shoulder, "oh my god, thank god its you, i thought i was gonna get murdered on christmas." jason chuckles lowly as he wraps his arms around your waist, holding you tightly, "well, i would prefer you to not get murdered any day, but you're right, christmas would be especially terrible."

you pull away, giving him a soft eye roll before meeting him for a kiss, a reunion that soon turns hot, your week-and-a-half separation and its consequences both seemingly hitting you at the same moment. jason's tongue smoothly slips into your mouth, exploring one of his favorite places as you tug at the hair at the nape of his neck, bringing a groan from deep in jason's chest. he turns the two of you around, walking you back until you feel yourself being pushed onto the couch, jason then sorta straddling you, his left leg resting on the cushion while his right foot stays on the ground, maintaining his balance.

jason quickly moves down to your neck, licking and nipping at different spots along your throat, sucking deeply at the base of your neck, sure to leave a mark. you whine and whiter under his grasp before a thought hits you, wait, the fuck, "wait, jas, how are you here?" the brunette pulls away, his long hair messy with a few pieces falling down to where they almost cover his eyes, "geez, not exactly the welcome home i was expecting."

again, you roll your eyes at him, "no you shithead, i mean how did you get here? i thought all the flights coming to new york were canceled?" he nods while dipping his head back down, continuing his attack where he left off, biting at your collarbones, "mhm". you let out a whimper, appreciating how he was distracting you from your train of thought, but still wanting answers to your confusion, "okay, so then how are you here? la to new york must be a what, thirty-five, thirty..."

with a small groan, jason lifts his head back up to look at you, obviously perturbed that he was once again having to stop his exploration of your body, "forty hours. plus stops, but just for gas. don't drink the yellow gatorade bottles in the outside garbage bin." your mouth drops open, "wait, what? jas, you only told me about the cancelation like, two days ago, that leaves-" jason cuts you off as he works his sweatshirt up your torso and off your body, thanking every god above when he sees that you're wearing nothing underneath, "that leaves two hours for figuring out a rental car and getting on the road, the rest for gas station stops and a thirty-minute nap in nebraska."

before you can respond, jason leans back down to suck on your erect nipple, an action that causes you to moan and wiggle your legs, the latter of which kicked jason's right leg slightly and caused him to lose his balance, then falling off of the couch. having been holding onto your hips, jason took you with him, your body landing on his as his back slams onto the floor, "ah, fuck." jason winces as you softly giggle, not laughing at his pain but more so the situation, "too much on your back, old man?"

jason's reaction to your comment is more heated than his reaction to his body hitting the hardwood, "i swear to god, y/n, you will regret that." you lift your head up, wanting to egg him on, knowing both of you would enjoy any punishment that you would receive for that comment, but your attention is caught by the tree in the corner, "i'd like to see - did you decorate the tree?" jason tosses his head back, well as much as he can, as he groans, "i started, i was thinking we'd continue after i have hot christmas sex with my wife, but that isn't going to happen if someone doesn't shut up."

you giggle, moving so that you are straddling him, his erection against your clothed core, and then lean down to kiss him sweetly, "i'm sorry baby." you kiss him once more, pulling away just enough to speak softly, "merry christmas, mr. sudeikis." jason smiles softly, leaning up to kiss you, "merry christmas, mrs. sudeikis." a gasp and giggle leave your mouth as positions quickly flip, your naked back meeting the cool hardwood as jason hovers above you, a smirk on his face, "now, where were we?"

#1.3k #quick christmas blurb! #similar prompt to last night's but different and with jason instead of ted #one more holiday prompt tomorrow #for new years eve! #jason sudeikis #jason sudeikis fanfiction #jason sudeikis fanfic #jason sudeikis fic #jason sudeikis x reader #blurb #tedssweaters blurb

[fettuccin-e]

Right Here, Right Now

Kinktober Day 2: Public

Tags: Miguel O'Hara x Reader, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl omg please), public sex, fingering, its just desperate sex with Mig in an alleyway lol (w/c: 1.3K)

A/N: I have actually had this as a WIP for a long, long time but I modified it to fit this prompt! Glad to finally get some use out of it. Miguel can and will always have me in a chokehold I love him so so much. (I am following prompts from this list by flightlessangelwings!)

You’ve both been apart for too long, far too fucking long. Always away on missions without each other, falling asleep without each other and leaving again with only a quick kiss goodbye, nothing more.

It’s got Miguel a little stir crazy, desperate, and you’re just the same way. So, on the odd mission where you’re actually together, you don’t protest when he crowds you against a brick wall in some dark, dank alleyway, and kisses the god damn life out of you. It’s intoxicating, mind-melting, and fuck, it’s not enough for either of you. 

Miguel growls against your mouth, reaching a clawed hand to the seam of your suit, and rips it, exposing the wetness of your aching pussy to the cool night air. He cups you without any finesse, just pure need, and you gasp wetly into his kiss.

“Miguel,” you whine, but you can’t stop your hips from humping forward into his hand, “we can’t— we can’t, baby, they’re going to start looking for us, oh fuck, they’re gonna see—“

“Shh,” he coos, “just real quick, real quick, sweetheart.” His chest heaves, so broad and thick and clouding your vision as he rubs quick circles into your achy clit with a calloused finger.

“Just- just let me feel you, just for a second, please, baby, mi amor, por favor, tan perfecta, te necesito,” he mumbles, lost in it, and you find yourself nodding along with his words.

He whines at your permission, and you barely manage to utter a “just for a second, just a second, Miguel,” before his suit dissipates around the bulge of this thick cock, and he’s sinking into you, pressing so fucking deep he forces the air from your lungs.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes into the crook of your neck, his hips stuttering forward as he stretches your pussy around him. “There’s my perfect girl, my beautiful girl, fuck, fuck, missed this pussy so bad, baby.”

It’s hard to breathe like this, Miguel pressing you into the brick wall, curling around you until all you know is him. All you know is the way his scent invades your lungs, the way his fangs graze your throat just barely. The way he pulls his hips back, just a little bit, before shoving forward again, bullying his thick cock so fucking deep inside your little cunt. You can’t get out the words, the sensations all too much for you to bear. There hasn’t been any prep, anything to lead up to you taking Miguel like you usually do. 

No, there's only the adrenaline coursing through your bodies, the desperation stemming from being apart for far too long, and the ache of him settling deep, deep inside you. It’s where you both belong.

So you stutter out aborted little whines of “Mig- Miguel,” and “so-so big,” between overwhelmed sobs into his strong body as he holds you, impaling you on him again and again. He’s mumbling, incessant and slurred as he fucks you into the brick, something about how hot you are, how wet and tight and about how he can’t wait to get you home, how he’s going to fuck you for days. It’s all so hard to understand, you’re not even sure that Miguel knows what he’s saying, if he even wants you to hear all of the deep, dark thoughts spilling from his overwhelmed mouth.

Your body burns, the coarse hair at the base of his cock rubbing at your clit so perfect, so right. It’s all slick and wet and you’re sure that you’re dripping down his fat cock as it slides in and out of you, dripping down his balls. You can at least thank God that his suit isn’t made out of actual fabric; that he won’t have to return to HQ with your wetness staining his front. Not that he’d really mind.

It’s intoxicating, the way he fills you, surrounds you. So much so that you don’t realize how much time has passed until you hear Jessica’s voice from both of your watches, cutting through your whines and Miguel’s growls and the lewd sounds of your bodies meeting. “O’Hara, what’s your position?”

“Fuck,” he snarls, driving into you just a little faster, a little harder, “fuck, not yet, not yet.” He doesn’t respond to Jess, leaning down to capture your lips in a bruising kiss that mostly contains teeth and spit.

“Mig-Miguel, they’re going to be looking, c’mon, baby, we’ve got to g-” you hiccup into his mouth, but your hips move of their own accord, meeting him thrust for thrust as he drives desperately into you.

“Not. Yet.” He growls, punctuating his words with his hips. “Just a little longer, little- little longer, jus’ let me-” he fucks himself into you, so furious and devastating that tears finally manage to spill from your eyes.

“Spiderman 2099, what is your position?” Jessica asks again, and you can hear Pavitr ask you the same thing from your watch, both oblivious to the fact that their leader, your leader, is fucking you into the wall in some dirty back alley in a universe that neither of you know, that neither of you care to know. All you know is Miguel’s body against yours, exchanging desperate breaths as he thrusts deep into your sticky pussy, curling your hands into his hair as he digs his fingers into your waist, his claws nearly tearing the fabric of your suit.

“Miguel,” you moan, “we have to go, please we have to go, they’re looking for us, they’re gonna see-”

“No,” Miguel whines, and you want to fall to your knees with how absolutely devastated he sounds, “can’t- you can’t go, ‘s too soon, baby, let me have you, let me have you,” he’s slurring around his fangs, his eyes burning red at the edges as his eyes meet yours. He grabs at the watch on your wrist, cutting it off with a deft claw, and you choke on your spit as he crushes it easily in his palm. 

“Miguel-” you start, but he cups a thick hand over your mouth, and you can only watch as he raises his watch to his face and says, far more collected than he’s been this entire night, “Anomaly neutralized, returning to HQ. Meet tomorrow for a debrief.”

“Not tonight?” Pav chirps, and Miguel ruts into you hard, his gaze burning into yours.

“Tomorrow.” He growls, before he shuts his watch off completely, tucking his face into the crook of your neck again, sucking dark marks into your skin. His hands find your hips once again, pulling you onto his cock over and over and over as tears slide down your cheeks, choked little moans ripping out of your throat.

“That’s right, beautiful, squeeze this cock, make a mess for me. Can’t wait to get you home, going to fuck you all fucking night, needed this sweet pussy so fucking bad, bebita, por favor, ah-” he groans into your skin, and his cock sinks into you so perfect, stretching you exactly how you’ve needed it for so long, and fuck, your orgasm nearly makes you black out. You thrash against the wall, crying out so loud that Miguel has no choice but to seal his mouth over yours in a sticky kiss, swallowing your noises. 

“Fuck, that’s right, make a mess for me, eres tan perfecta, mi amor, mi vida, fuck,” he fucks into you, once, two more times, before he’s following you over that peak, his hips twitching as he fills you up.

You both can only rock against each other for a minute, riding the aftershocks of bliss. How had you gone without this for so long? How could you have deprived yourself of heaven?

“Let’s go home, Miguel,” you whisper, resting your forehead against his. He nods, switching his watch back on and opening a portal behind himself. He slips out of you, his suit reforming over himself. You, unfortunately don’t have the same luxury, the night air still cool against your used and achy core. 

“You’re making me a new suit, by the way,” you say, tilting your head up to smile at him. “And a new watch.”

He only chuckles, lifting you into his arms, turning to walk you both into your shared apartment in Nueva York, where you haven't been together in too damn long. “Anything you want.”

#hes just so big i need him to bang me against a wall #i love him sm i get so depraved talking about him #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #atsv smut

[saradika]

— beneath the mask

din djarin x f!reader

rated t - 1.3k

tags: medieval!au, light angst, anxiety, arranged marriage, soulmate au, reader has a mother & father

prompt: "I wanted it to be you, I wanted it to be you so badly” from the writing challenge hosted by the amazing and lovely @moonlight-prose 💖

when a mysterious stranger wins your hand at the tournament, you can't help but wonder about his intentions

With each step down the aisle, your legs threaten to give out.

A clicking of your teeth as you tremble, before you're gritting your jaw, biting your anxiety back. You have a reputation to uphold, even if you're only the daughter of a lord from a lesser house.

You're still a lady.

And this marriage would ensure a home for you. Protection. More than, if this man is what he says he is.

But a part of you desperately wishes that it was someone else at the end of the aisle.

You'd searched for a long time. For the glimpses that flash in your dreams at night. Knowing that he was out there - the one you had begun to think of as yours.

Your soulmate.

Never managing to meet the same eyes that reflect back at you in the darkness, just before you wake. Not once in the hundreds, thousands of people you’ve looked at, throughout your years.

And when none were found, you slowly gave up. Knowing the world was too large and you were too small, too poor, to seek them out.

Eventually agreeing to the match that your mother and father arranged.

If you could not have him, then you did not want anyone.

And now - the figure that waits for you stands tall.

Encased in gleaming armor, showing none of the nerves that wrack you. Making you wonder if you should have protested. Taken the path of the unwed, even if there was hardship in your future.

The stranger had won your favor, in the tournament. That is how the story will be told, passed on by your father.

Looking back, you remember very little from it. Knowing deep down that the winner would be the one to have your hand, whether you liked it or not. So much of it had turned to haze, as you had sat frozen there.

All but too nervous to watch, as weapons clashed, shields splintering.

Men you had known and grown up with falling beneath the sword of the mysterious man, clad in silver armor.

A Mandalorian, it was rumored.

Something from stories, you didn't know they still existed. An ancient clan of knights and warriors, honoring weapons and myths over sworn deities. Never revealing their faces to outsiders, and sometimes even to their own.

He had never killed any of them, and there was some comfort in that.

But that didn't mean he did not wound.

That he wasn't vicious, ferocious on the battlefield. Driven by an unseen force. Unrelenting, even when blood was drawn - splattering a bright crimson against his armor.

Showing just how he came to earn his station. The leader of his tribe, from the whispers you heard. Traveling far - slipping into the last few open brackets in the tournament, just as the first morning was starting.

Ripping through them all, in the days that followed.

You were given as the prize, in the end.

Even before the day ends, you would belong to him - ferried off to a new life tomorrow.

And this is what also slows your feet.

Wondering why such a man would come for you.

At the end of the aisle, you halt. The clergymany is speaking, but it's all white noise. Your own eyes wide and face solemn as you stare at your betrothed - your features reflected back at you in the tinted glass of his visor.

Acutely aware that you haven't seen his face. Not knowing what your husband was to look like.

Was he younger than you? Or older... older than your father?

Was his face kind, or was it as sharp as his movements? Was it all snarling teeth, beneath?

Were his eyes blue, or green, or just maybe... brown? Like his?

You don't know. You think not. Leaving you to wonder how you will bear it - to spend each day staring into their eyes while dreaming of anothers.

It's only when a voice raises that you're snapped from your thoughts. Realizing that the ceremony is waiting for you.

Managing, with a stammer, to repeat the words. To pledge yourself - your life and love - to this stranger.

The words repeated after, a low voice layering with metal. The shaking of your hands is still visible when they reach out to meet his, the tips of yours resting against wide, steady palms.

Covered in gloves but solid, like the rest of him.

Only the peek of tanned skin visible when he peels the glove from his hand. A small comfort coming in the warmth of his hand, as you slip the ring on his finger, settling it just above a scarred knuckle.

The careful brush of his fingers - a calming stroke against your skin, when he slips a matching one on yours.

Gentle, after everything.

Not him.

But perhaps, not a monster.

The celebrations swirl past you. There's music you don't remember. A meal that sits heavy in your stomach, from the meager amounts you managed to swallow.

A smile plastered on - assuring your excitement to family and friends - all while you worry about the hours to come.

Will he be as gentle as he was during the ceremony?

Or will it be more like the battlefield?

These thoughts linger, as the hours pass. Until the sun dips below the horizon, until the stars blanket the sky.

And then, you're alone.

Waiting in the finest room prepared for him in the guest wing. The pretty, ivory gown stripped from you, replaced with something thin and fine and silver - hand-sewn and intended to please him.

Pacing, until you hear the heavy steps approaching - as he returns from a meeting with your father, your dowry and your life handed over.

Leaving you frozen in place, as the door opens. Where he lingers, filling the space.

A different man than before, you think.

There had not been a slope to his shoulders, the way he moves as if afraid to frighten you.

His voice is different too - soft now, coaxing.

"I wish our meeting had been under more pleasant circumstances." Your husband tells you, as the door slowly shuts behind him.

Trapping you, now. The iron latch heavy, as it locks into place.

"But I could not bear to stand by." He continues, that hard edge creeping into his voice again, "You must understand."

"I don't." You manage - your brow pinched, shifting the smallest step backwards as he moves forward.

He goes still, at your retreat.

"Do you not, ner kar’ta?" His head tilts, "Do you not know why I have come?"

The shake of your head is small. Not understanding the name he calls you, his intentions.

He hesitates then, for a second. Before his hands are reaching - grasping the edge of his helmet. Slipping it from his head, as his head dips.

His hair is dark, beneath. Messy and curling, greying at the temples, down to the scruff that lines his jaw beneath plush lips and the curve of his nose.

And his eyes. That pretty shade of brown, the dark fan of his eyelashes.

You know them. Though you've never seen them, yourself.

For a moment, you can't breathe. Frozen for an entirely new reason - starting back at the eyes that you've seen so often.

"It's you," You manage. The words are no more than a soft gasp.

He lets you touch him, then. Fingertips tracing his jaw, those eyes slipping shut when your fingers brush the nape of his neck. Somehow knowing how the curls would feel against your fingers, already knowing each detail of his face.

Hidden deep down, revealed bit by bit in your sleep.

Only now, do you see all of him.

And only now, do you lean in. Your head tipping towards him, just as his forehead presses against yours. And it's now that you understand the warmth of his touch - the way it seems to soak into your skin. A lost piece of you, now becoming complete.

You hadn’t been able to find him - so he had found you, instead.

Unable to help the smile, as the dark pit in your stomach blooms into spring.

I wanted it to be you, you think - as your heart finally starts to beat again. I wanted it to be you so badly.

There's a hitch in his breath, with your touch. Fingers that stretch out and then curl, until you're taking them yourself, slipping yours between them.

"Now do you know?" Your husband murmurs, in the voice that you know as well as his eyes.

And you do - the answer coming easily, as you nod, "Because you're mine."

"Yes," He smiles.

"Yours."

i cant stop writing soft!soulmate din 💖 thank you for reading!!

ner kar’ta - my heart

#so sorry I am late my love #I have been thinking about this so much - such an great prompt and event!! 💖 #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x f!reader #writing challenge #din djarin imagine #din djarin

[luvrxbunny]

fifteen minutes

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!Reader 

Prompt: Free Use (?)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, kinda rough sex, piv, unprotected sex, minimal talking and kissing, no aftercare (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 1.3k

A/N: the end feels kinda sad cus no aftercare but- 

You’re waiting for Eddie in his changing room. It’s a little bigger than an office, but not big enough to be a bedroom. There’s a couch in it and a little vanity desk for his makeup and hair. You’re on the couch, trying to ignore the springs in it as you read a magazine you swiped from the receptionist's desk. You have headphones in, listening to Eddie’s newest EP, the same one he’s here to perform. You’ve tried to listen to his set live but being backstage means it’s a bit louder than you can handle so you play his music as loud as you can handle in your ears. 

You’re reading the newest edition of Vogue, your eyes popping out of your head at how fancy some of these outfits look. You’re snacking on some grapes Eddie packed for you as you bob your head to his guitar solo in your ears. You turn the page again and smile at a lady in a pink dress, and a man in an all-black suit standing next to her, his hand on her hip lightly. It reminds you of Eddie. You imagine him in that suit, his hair resting on his shoulder- or even better, in a man-bun atop his head. 

The metal in your ears dies down slowly with a fading guitar riff and adrenaline shoots through you. If the EP has ended that means that Eddie should have around 15 minutes between sets before performing one of his older albums. He always spends that time with you, even if half of it is him panting harshly from all his stage antics and chugging water to soothe his over-used vocal cords. You don’t mind though, a smile is already on your face at the thought of seeing him- and someone is grabbing you. 

Your skirt is flipped up and thick hands grip your naked ass, groping your cheeks roughly. Your hands rip your headphones from your ears and you’re about to scream when they rest their body on you, pushing the air from your lungs. “It’s me, baby. It’s me. I need you.” 

Eddie’s voice is hot against your ear, fanning over your cheek and you can feel the heat radiating off of his skin. He’s still wearing his jeans but he’s pulled you apart so he’s grinding his clothed crotch over your naked pussy. You don’t usually wear panties to his concerts because afterward, during the afterparty, Eddie tends to whisk you away to a remote location to have his way with you, sometimes he just does whatever he wants in the middle of whatever room you guys are in. You just wanted to make it easier for him. 

This is new though, you guys had discussed it after Eddie saw it on some rock blog he reads from time to time. You were open, you told him that your heart belongs to him so you don’t see any reason why your body shouldn’t as well. He spent the rest of the night fucking you about it but after that, he didn’t bring it up again. You’d almost forgotten about it, but now you can see it’s been on his mind. He’s moaning into your ear, humping his jean-clad cock into your sensitive hole, abusing it with the rough texture. “Eddie.” He moans at the way you say his name and pulls back. 

“Yeah, baby, s’me. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you through the whole set.” You can hear him unzipping his pants behind you and his telltale moan when he finally wraps his hand around his throbbing dick. He jerks himself off to the view of you, spread out on his couch, your little white skirt framing your perfect ass. He can see your lips glistening for him, your pussy crying for his cock, making a mess all over herself. He groans at the sight and digs in, not bothering to prep you one bit. 

You almost scream his name out but he presses his hand to your mouth, his rings digging into your lips painfully but your mind can only focus on the pleasure and the heat of the stretch his cock is causing inside you. Your hands reach behind your head blindly as Eddie rests his body against yours. You’re moaning against his hand raggedly, they rip from the base of your throat and vibrate against Eddie’s other hand that found its home wrapped gently around your neck. Your hands finally find his head and you pull him forward, forcing his head into the crook of your neck and turning your head to his, your eyes pleading and darting to his lips when he looks at you. 

You’re whining behind his hand, wanting desperately to connect your lips to his. He already looks wrecked as he holds your eye contact, he’s groaning and whimpering at you, his eyebrows drawn in and his eyes unfocused as they wander your face. He has no thoughts in his head as he ruts into you, he can’t even take the time to decipher what you’re begging him for. He can feel his orgasm growing in his stomach, brewing like a storm and you’re just feeding it more. You’re whimpering his name behind his hand and his eyes are crossing, doubling his view of you. 

The sight has you moaning loudly into his hand, vibrating his palm as feels the coil in your stomach pull tighter. You moan more desperately, needing to kiss him before cumming and he finally pulls his hand away to force your head into his lips. You’re barely kissing him back, mostly moaning his name and licking into his mouth, trying to swallow everything he can give you, anything that tastes like him. 

He pulls away to moan into your mouth, your jaw slack with the assault of pleasure, with the orgasm that’s burning like a warning in your gut, promising to ruin you once it’s released. Eddie feels the same way, he’s trying to last for you but he knows he’s running out of time and you’re pulsing madly around him. His hips stutter into you as his orgasm begins to overflow, his balls are tightening and shooting pleasure through him every time they smack into you. Your pussy is teasing him at this point, clenching rhythmically like you’re trying to milk him, like you want him to cum in you. 

So he does. His cock explodes inside you and it’s like nothing he’s felt before. It’s not more or less enjoyable, it’s always incredible when he’s with you- but it’s more aggressive. It slams into him, knocking all the air out of his lungs and he could swear that he blacked out, just floating through an abyss of pleasure. You’re whining into his ear and he can feel you trying to cum around him, you’re clenching purposely now, grinding back into his stuttering hips. He knows, he knows you can’t cum without him touching your clit but he doesn’t have enough brain power to even help you… and he doesn’t have to. 

You let out a sob-like whine as Eddie’s hips calm down and he pulls back, already struggling to get his pants back over his legs. “Eddie, I didn’t-” He cuts you off by completely falling off the couch, hitting the floor with a dull thud. He sits back up, level with your face and kisses you with a small smile. “I know.” He stands up, jumping a bit to get his jeans up quicker. “I know, baby, I’m sorry. I’ll help you when I get back I swear.” He blows you a kiss as he rushes out of the room, hearing people calling for him outside the hall. You’re left in silence in his room, panting and desperate as you hear the crowd scream, letting you know he’s already back on stage.  

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works, and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

#eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #kinktober #kinktober smut #kinktober 2023

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Ever since that running aemond pic came out I've been thinking non stop about his thighs so... would you like to write something involving riding aemond's thigh? I have no other wishes and I totally get it if you think that's not enough of a prompt. You can ignore this if you want but I'd love to see what you can come up with!

You asked for this back in June, I'm so sorry for how long this has taken me. I am a shambles of a human being, truly. I hope you've stuck around long enough to see this!

Warnings: Thigh riding, smut, me playing fast and loose with canon. Word count: ~1.3k

The candle that rests beside her on the reading table burns low as she sits in her and Aemond’s marital chambers. The book that is spread out in front of her, Coming of the Andals, lays unread; her fingers tap anxiously against its pages, as her eyes remain fixed upon the door.

Aemond had been called to a meeting of the Small Council. They both knew why, it has been a long time coming. The injuries that Aegon sustained during the battle of Rook’s Rest have left him bedridden, he is no longer fit to rule, and their grandsire’s capacity for what he can do in his stead has reached its limit. Westeros needs a Targaryen upon the throne, and Aemond is next in line. It is a position she knows that her husband is all too eager to fill.

He ought to be back by now though, it has been hours. The evening grows late, and she has long since sent away her chambermaids, refusing to be readied for bed. She has no desire to sleep until Aemond returns, so she forgoes the comfort of her nightgown, despite longing to unlace the meticulously fastened ribbons that hold her bodice tightly in place against her ribcage.

Tiredness and impatience pluck at her nerves, making her shift irritably in her chair. She startles at a polite rap at the door, if it was Aemond then he would simply walk in, he would not bother to knock. Her brow furrows in confusion as she rises, walking towards the door to open it.

She looks down into the wide eyed anticipation of one of the Keep’s page boys. He clears his throat before speaking.

“Apologies for the disturbance at such a late hour, Princess, Prince Aemond has requested your presence in the throne room.”

She sighs, nodding and bidding the young lad goodnight, before snuffing out the candle and making her way through the corridors of Maegor’s Holdfast towards the Great Hall. The walk is long, and she is grateful she has not yet changed into her nightclothes, as the gown she wears does little to keep the chill of the castle air from nipping at her skin. She would feel annoyed at Aemond insisting she come all this way, were it not for the mixture of curiosity and excitement that flutters lightly in her chest.

Pushing open the great oak and bronze doors, her eyes scan the long carpet that stretches the length of the room, up to the high, narrow steps that lead to the raised iron dais. Aemond sits upon the throne. She stands silently as she regards him. His arms rest on either side of the asymmetrical tangle of jagged and twisted blades, long fingers curled around the makeshift armrests.

He is dressed as he was when he had left her earlier that evening; black, leather tunic, black breeches and leather boots, except this time the Conqueror’s crown sits atop his snowy head of hair, the Valyrian steel and rubies gleaming iridescent in the moonlight. He cuts quite the imposing figure as his single eye stares at her impassively.

Slowly, she descends the steps into the Hall, making her way along the carpet, maintaining eye contact with her husband the entire time. His lips quirk, the faintest trace of amusement tugging at their corners as he observes the unhurried pace with which she moves. It is not until she stands before the throne that he bothers to speak.

“It is not polite to keep your King waiting,” he utters quietly.

“Prince Regent,” she corrects him. “And it is not becoming of a King to rouse ladies from their slumber in the middle of the night.”

He huffs through his nose, smirking at her as he leans forward slightly. “You do not appear to be dressed for sleep. I must say, I am disappointed.”

“It is improper for a lady to greet the King in such a state of undress, or is that how you will have all the ladies of the court attend to you?”

“Hmmm. I have not yet decided how I would like you to attend to me. Will you curtsy to me?”

“Never,” she whispers with a playful giggle.

“Such insolence must be met with the King’s justice.”

She takes his hand as he offers it out, gasping as he tugs her forcefully up to him, her knees landing either side of one of his, as she sits against his thigh. Even through her skirts she can feel the unyielding sharpness of the throne beneath them. She steadies herself, placing her hands upon the smooth suppleness of the leather that covers his shoulders.

Aemond grasps her waist with one hand, the other moving to weave itself into her hair, as his eye drinks her in. She allows her gaze to wander to the crown, taking in the way it sinks into the thick silkiness of his hair.

“It suits you,” she says quietly.

“It looks better on me than it ever did on him.”

“And is this what has kept you from our bed?”

“I wanted you to see.”

He flexes his thigh, raising his leg to brush against her clothed core and she sucks in a shaky breath, the sensation causing a jolt that makes her throb with want.

“I would have seen…” she retorts with a slight whine, as the hand holding her waist moves to her hip, gripping it tightly and encouraging her to grind against him.

“Not like this,” he hisses, tugging her head back by her hair and mouthing hotly at her neck.

She moans, her nails digging into his shoulders to ground herself, as she fucks herself against his thigh, aided by the occasional bounce and flex of the muscle from Aemond. The ache between her legs is almost unbearable, the gusset of her smallclothes growing sticky with arousal, as the sensation of his lips upon her flesh makes her shudder.

“This moment is just for us,” he mutters, pushing and pulling her more forcefully against him, encouraging her to move faster. “But we shall have many more like it.”

“Gods, Aemond, please,” she whimpers, insides clenching around nothing as the friction against her aching pearl grows more intense.

“I will fuck a babe into you upon this throne,” he snarls, shifting his hand from her hair to pluck harshly at the lacings of her gown, before tugging down her bodice and wrapping his lips around the peak of her breast.

Arching against him, she buries her hands in his hair, keeping him anchored to her chest. The warmth of his scalp and the softness of the tresses between her fingers are oddly juxtaposed with the hardened coolness of the Valyrian steel that crowns Aemond’s head, but she has little time to dwell upon it.

She cants wantonly against Aemond’s leg, the pressure in her lower belly increasing, aided by the swirl of his wet tongue against her sensitive nipple. When it finally yields, she collapses forward against him with a strangled cry of pleasure, a rush of wetness soaking her smallclothes and leaving a damp patch on the area of her husband’s trousers that she rests against. Warmth cascades over her body, making her feel boneless as she pants for breath and Aemond’s lips release her with a wet pop.

He holds her steady, leaning back to look at her, as a cat might regard a mouse it toys with. His hooded eye roves over her glassy eyes, her parted lips, her bare chest, before he lifts a hand to adjust his crown slightly. “Hmmm. Yes. It makes everything look better.”

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond smut #aemond imagine #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond #aemond targaryen #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #pro aemond targaryen #aemond stannies #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen fan fiction #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fan fic #hotd #hotd smut #hotd fan fiction #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd fan fic #aemond fan fiction #aemond fanfiction #aemond fanfic

[alotofpockets]

Seeking comfort | Natasha Romanoff

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Prompt: "I didn't know where else to go."

Masterlist | Marvel masterlist | Words: 1.3k

A little over a week ago Natasha had left to go on an Avenger mission, it wasn’t the first mission she went on since the two of you started dating six months ago, but it had been the longest one. Every day that Natasha was away, your worries for her wellbeing grew. You weren’t in the superhero world yourself, so it was all still rather new for you. 

The more that your worries grew, the harder it got for you to sleep at night, it was getting to the point where you woke up to a nightmare every hour or so. You decided to text Wanda to ask if maybe you could stay at the Compound for a bit. She agreed instantly and texted you the address. You had met the Avengers on a few occasions but it had always been for events that were elsewhere, so when you walked up on the Compound’s gigantic driveway, your eyes looked all over the place, taking in the enormous buildings. 

Wanda opened the door and let you in. "Sorry, I didn't know where else to go." She shakes her head, “No worries, you’re always welcome here. Let me show you around.” After a tour of the Compound you found yourself in the common room where a bunch of the Avengers were gathered, “Hey y/n, good to see you!” Steve gets up and gives you a hug. “We were just about to start a movie, want to join us?” Natasha’s friends surrounding you was a nice distraction, of course you still had your worries, but at least your mind wasn’t constantly on those anymore. 

It was getting late when the movie ended, so Wanda showed you to Natasha’s room. At first it felt a little bit weird being in your girlfriend’s room, without having you by her side, but it quickly started to feel comforting. Her familiar scent was all around you, pictures and trinkets filled the shelves in her room. You look around, and find pictures with her teammates, her family, as well as a few with the two of you. You smile when you come across the picture that you deemed your favorite picture of the two of you. It made you feel warm inside that Natasha collected all these memorabilia from her favorite moments, there was something so sweet about it. 

Once you finished looking around her room, you went ahead and found a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants in her closet. Wearing her clothes made you feel instantly closer to her, as you slipped into her bed and laid your head down on her pillow. It was the first night that the nightmares stayed away. Your night was peaceful, until a slight shaking woke you up. “Hi baby.” The familiar voice of your girlfriend whispers softly. You have to blink a few times in order to realize that you aren’t dreaming, and that your girlfriend is actually sitting beside you on the bed. “Nat!” You sit up and fall into her arms, “I missed you so much.” She wraps her arms around you and kisses the top of your head. “I’ve missed you too, detka.” After a moment of quiet embrace Natasha speaks up, her voice still soft. “Not that I don’t love having you here, but how come you’re here?” 

“I missed you so much, and I was so worried about you, so I asked Wanda if I could come by the Compound for a bit. Then I was invited to join movie night and Wanda let me stay the night because it was getting late. It has been so nice sleeping in your room though, it helped with the missing part a bit.” Natasha smiles down at you, “Well, let me get changed real quick and I will join you.” After she presses a soft kiss to your forehead, she walks over to her closet to pick out some pajamas.

Natasha lays down beside you in her bed, “Come on, let’s get some more sleep, and then we can catch up tomorrow. How does that sound?” You hum in agreement, already fighting to keep your eyes open. Natasha turns on her side to put her phone down on her nightstand, you take it as an opportunity to wrap your arm around her, and snuggle into her back. Your girlfriend scooted back into you a bit, getting comfortable herself, she intertwined her fingers with yours and pulled them closer to her chest. 

The comfort of your girlfriend laying safely in your arms, let your body drift away in a peaceful slumber. Natasha stays awake for a while longer, her thumb rubbing lightly over the back of your hand. She was so glad to be with you again, your arms wrapped around her, and your legs intertwined. There wasn’t anywhere she would rather be than in your arms. She had missed you so much while she was away, it made her realize just how much she loved you. Natasha had missed you every moment of every day that she had been apart from you. She knew that being away was a part of her job, but the way she had missed you the past week, made her realize something. She wanted to come home to you.

Natasha had let you sleep in, realizing you needed the extra rest. She was watching so sleep, not in a creepy way, just full of love. You woke up to her green eyes lighting up at the realization that you were awake. “Good morning, baby.” Your voice slightly raspy. “Good morning, detka, how did you sleep?” She gently moves some hair away from your face. “Better than I have the whole week, I love when I get to fall asleep with you.” Natasha’s smile widens at your words, now was the perfect time to ask you. “I would love to come home to you, like how I did last night. It made me so happy, so I wanted to ask you if maybe you would want to move in together?” Her question got you to wake up fully fast. “I would love that.” You hug her tight and start placing kisses all over her face. “That would be perfect.” 

A couple weeks later you were moving into a beautiful apartment in New York, close to the Compound and your job. It had big windows overlooking the Hudson river, one of the few requests that Natasha had for an apartment. Her view on the Hudson river had always helped her calm down when she was looking out of her window in the Compound. All of the Avengers that were around helped the two of you move in, declining Tony’s offer to pay for the movers, you wanted to share this experience with Natasha, without missing any part of it. 

When everything was moved in the Avengers stayed for some take out dinner, the first meal shared in your shared home with Natasha. After they left, you took Natasha’s hand and walked around your new house together. Talking about all the ideas the both of you had to turn your house into a home. 

The first night in your new place was special, and Natasha wanted to make sure that it would be memorable. She took out her polaroid camera and took a few pictures of the both of you. Since movie nights were special to the both of you, Natasha had set everything for a relaxing evening in bed, filled with your favorite movies, and snacks. The pile of polaroids grew, and you couldn’t wait to fill your home with memories, just like you had seen in Natasha’s room back at the Compound. 

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#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #natasha romanoff fluff

[babyleostuff]

my favourite person | joshua hong

prompt | i'm not a lot of people's favourite person

word count | 1.3k

genre | angst & (mostly) fluff

author's note | ugh i haven't written a longer fic like this in a while, i've missed this

Joshua was that type of person who never wanted to bother you with his own problems. He cherished you and your happiness way too much, so what would be the point in sharing his own worries with you?

He was a big boy, he could take care of himself, no matter how much he wanted to find peace and comfort in your arms.

You knew something was wrong, despite him insisting he was fine. You knew him like the back of your hand and something has been clearly bothering him.

His bright smile was gone and even if he did smile, it didn’t reach his eyes, like it usually did. He didn’t share any funny stories from the practice room, he went to bed without giving you your mandatory good night kiss and you woke up to his side of the bed cold and empty.

“Joshua, you really have to tell me if anything is bothering you,” you said and squeezed his arm. “I’m here for you.”

But the only response you got was a small smile and a “I’m fine darling. Don’t worry about me,” which didn’t make the case any better.

You decided to let it go and wait for him to come around. Especially, because he had a company dinner soon, which you hoped would cheer him up a bit.

Perhaps a talk with Jeonghan or Seungcheol wouldn’t hurt as well.

Leaving with a quiet goodbye and a kiss to your forehead (like he always did before leaving), made you hopeful you were slowly getting your Shua back.

Some of the boys posted a couple of pictures of them together, before the party even began and Joshua was in every single one of them.

He seemed fairly happy, but you knew very well he could have been pretending.

Nonetheless, you decided to put your phone away, there was no point in dwelling on whether he was fine or not.

He wouldn’t be coming back to your apartment tonight anyways, he never did after big parties. He was always afraid that he’d make too much noise and wake you up, so he always went back to his own place after a night of drinking.

Settling down for the night, you unawarely stroked the pillow on your boyfriend’s side, where his head would usually be. He had never told you this, but his heart always skips anytime you run your fingers through his hair, as a warm feeling settles in his tummy.

He was always convinced that love was an emotion that he’d never be able to describe, but the genuine care in your eyes and the happiness in your smile could make him talk about love for hours.

“Fuck.”

You tiredly rubbed your eyes with your (Joshua’s) sweatshirt, trying to pick up where the sounds were coming from, while still being half asleep.

You stumbled out of bed, not so gently running into your dresser, while trying not to freak out over a thief who's probably robbing your apartment right now.

Finally, reaching the kitchen, you exhaled in relief as you saw that it was only your boyfriend, trying to take off his shoes.

But then you realised something. Why was he here? And then you realised something else.

He was definitely not sober.

Seeing your boyfriend drunk was nothing new, but seeing him wasted was something you thought you’d never get to see.

“Honey, are you okay?” you asked, quickly grabbing his hand to get his attention. You couldn't help thinking that something bad had happened, as his eyes were wide and he seemed almost… scared?

Shaking his head, he clumsily grabbed your other hand, putting them on his cheeks.

For a second you thought about calling Jeonghan. You’ve never seen your boyfriend in such a miserable state before and it was scaring you. The light in his eyes was gone and his beautiful face showed nothing but pain.

Nothing about this was good, but the worst was that you still had no idea what had happened.

As you got lost in your own thoughts, you felt something wet hitting your fingertips and that was when you realised Joshua was crying.

“Oh baby,” you whispered, as he collapsed into your arms. His sobs echoed through your quiet apartment, while his shoulder shook with every breath he took.

He held tightly onto you, almost as you were his lifeline - the only thing keeping him alive. Your own heart was breaking with every cry that he let out, the sound shattering any ounce of hope that you had that he’d be all right.

You lowered both of you to the ground, so you could sit in the dark curridor, illuminated only by the moonlight coming through the window.

Taking a shaky inhale, he put his head on your lap, while you gently stroked his head and placed small kisses on his forehead, to let him know that you were there with him.

“I’m not a lot of people’s favourite person.”

The not so comforting silence of your apartment was finally broken by your boyfriend, who seemed to have calmed down, even though he still struggled to take a deep breath.

“What did you say honey?” you said quietly, brushing his hair away from his face.

“I think I’m not a lot of people’s favourite person,” he repeated, slowly pushing himself up to seating.

You looked at his tired expression, wanting nothing more to take all of his burdens away from him.

He was usually very good at avoiding the hate he got online, but from time to time, it could really get to him. It was unavoidable, you both knew that, but sometimes he wanted nothing more but to talk to his fans and have a good time with them.

But because a lot of people want to harm him, his reputation and his feelings, it wasn’t easy to manoeuvre between the good and the bad comments.

It seemed like this time he stumbled upon some really nasty shit.

“Why do you say that? Where did it come from?” you asked rhetorically, voice laced with concern.

He didn’t respond, only put his head on your shoulder, putting all of his weight onto you.

Not wanting to dig deeper, you put your arms tightly around his shoulders, and placed one of your hands on his tear stained cheek.

“You know,” you muttered so as not to startle him. “You might not be a lot of people’s favourite person, but you’re definitely my favourite person,” you kissed the side of his head, as you felt more tears rolling down his cheek.

“I have no idea how you’re feeling right now, nor will I ever get to experience what you’re experiencing, but I want you to know that despite all those horrible people that want to cause nothing more but pain, there are thousands of people who love you and cherish you.”

“Take a look around you. You have me, you have your brothers and you have your true fans that want you to be happy,” you whispered into his hair.

“I think that’s more than enough,” he said quietly, lifting his head to look at you.

His eyes were red, but to you they were the happiest they’ve been in a while. Even the corners of his lips were slightly turned upwards, to which you couldn’t help but smile.

“You cannot make everyone happy, Shua. There are going to be people that’ll want to hurt you, but remember that you’re always surrounded by people that love you,” you said.

He turned away to wipe his wet cheeks, feeling slightly embarrassed about his emotional outburst.

Usually, he’d go to his own apartment and cry himself to sleep, but tonight something made him come back home to you.

“Joshua,” you put your hand on his shoulder. “Next time, please talk to me before it gets that bad. I know that you don’t want to burden me with your worries, but I can't stand seeing you like this.”

“I love you so much, and I want us to go through the good and the bad together.”

He nodded and took your hand in his.

“Together.”

#seventeen #seventeen x reader #svt reactions #seventeen carat #seventeen fluff #seventeen kpop #seventeen reactions #seventeen x you #seventeen imagines #svt fluff #seventeen reaction #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x oc #svt joshua #boyfriend joshua #joshua #joshua hong #joshua x reader #hong jisoo #joshua x you #joshua x y/n #joshua imagines #joshua reaction #joshua fic #joshua scenarios #seventeen angst #joshua fluff #joshua angst #svt #svt imagines

[trashmouth-richie]

the boy is mine // ziggy’s version ♡

@carolmunson prompt

♡firstly, i’m so excited about this, for the unification this could have for all of us fandom wide— hopefully there are more ideas like this in the future 💕

tw: depictions of hard times, established relationship, blue collar (?) vibes, money troubles, but you’re in love so it’s a non issue. fluffy, illusions to smut but nothing mentioned.

1.3k

the scene: a romantic night in at the trailer.

props included/mentioned (in passing or can hold bigger meaning): a throw pillow, vanilla frosting, a small notebook.

dialogue included (can be manipulated slightly if needed, can be placed in any order):- "i ran out of like, nice cups, is this okay?" - "aw, don't be like that. that's not even true."- "and you like that?"- "if you don't stop, we're gonna have a problem."

Birthdays.

Something rarely celebrated between the two of you. Even though you both agree every year would be different, every new year’s resolution—sworn to do it, but always falling short.

Until this year.

It wasn’t a pony or a working television, and still with the daily struggle of bills piling up and work slowing down— Eddie promised himself, your day would be special.

He dipped into the ‘broken window’ fund— started when some little shits tossed rocks at the “freak’s house”. It consisted of an empty pickle jar that lived in the same dark bottom cabinet holding the potatoes.

Just a few bucks, that’s all he would need until payday on friday.

The shopping basket was nearly pathetic looking as he scoured aisles for a special treat, realizing he had come up short when he needed an extra few bucks for gas.

Putting back the cake mix, the card, and a pack of twizzlers—Eddie left the store with a single can of vanilla frosting, the off brand kind.

He rushed home, hoping to still have enough time to beat you there before your shift ended at work.

Scrounging for the small notebook you got him for christmas, he flipped through the pages filled with past conversations about the pros and cons of leaving the trailer park, a forgotten list for groceries, and an even shorter list of bills that could be pushed back a few days.

He finally finds a clean sheet, clear of pen marks and gets to work. His hands flew with D&D esque inspired calligraphy, scrawling “happy birthday baby!” with a tiny jagged heart at the bottom with his initials.

A car door slams on creaky hinges and he knew you were home before even hearing your soft footsteps on the worn concrete— giving him only seconds to do a quick sniff of his pits and rake through his hair with his fingers— rings getting stuck along the way.

Your keys jingle on your finger as you lug your purse by its strap, nearly to the ground like you were walking a dog on a leash.

“There she is,”

The same cheesy charmer line he had greeted you with since you were teens meeting between classes by your locker, faces wedged almost as one to kiss as much as you could before being late. Hormones on fire.

Eddie ‘benjamin button’ Munson aged backwards, you were sure of it. Where you looked exhausted at any given hour, Eddie's puppy dog eyes grew bigger every day, not a single wrinkle on his cherub face.

“Hey babe,” you yawned with a hand covering your mouth, “did’y have a good day?”

His smile, all dimples and porcelain teeth stretched a mile wide along with his arms as you walked into them, pressing your cheek to the middle of his chest, arms slung lazy on his hips.

“Always a good day babe, never bad. And..someone, not sure who, has a birthday.”

Lifting your head his chin is dipped to you, “someone doesn’t like their birthday, Eddie— it’s a waste.”

You never had, it was never happy before Eddie— stemming from divorced parents fighting about which one should pick up the cake, and who was buying the gifts because ‘I did it last year’ which ultimately dissolved into you telling them not to worry about it because it was just another day.

“Aw don’t be like that,” Eddie frowns, “that’s not even true.”

You grumble into his shirt tossing your head further into him inhaling his scent. He kisses your hairline and strokes your back before working to remove your coat.

“Five years we’ve been together, it’s time we celebrate shit, sweetheart.”

Mumbling a drawn out ‘fiiine’ into him he tips your chin, with a curl of his forefinger, a little smirk on his lips.

“You’re really cute when you pout y’know it?”

“and you like that?”

His lips slot against yours, and you hum with content, “oh darlin’” he says with a fake southern drawl, “I love it.”

-

The tub was filled with the warmest temperature the water heater would allow— which wasn’t a lot, but still, it felt nice on your sore muscles from your shift at the same plant both Eddie and Wayne worked at, opposite shifts from you.

Eddie’s rings clacked on the plastic edge as he slid his long legs around yours into the water, sitting on the other end of the tub. He had helped you undress, hanging your coat on the back of a chair, giving you the beautiful homemade card that made tears spring to your eyes.

He followed behind you into the bathroom, running the water and putting the drain stopper into the drain before he ran back out to the kitchen returning with arms filled with stuff that he kept hidden from you until you were comfortably sitting in the cramped bathtub.

He plugged in an emerald strand of colorful christmas lights that you didn’t even know you had. It filled the cluttered countertop, weaving around the bar of soap and kitchen cup designated for holding your toothbrushes, lighting the bathroom in a cozy Christmas ambience… in April.

“We ran out of like, nice cups— is this okay?” He asked before pouring a can of Busch light into two red cups that were nabbed from Benny’s before it shut down.

Scrunching your face you move your arms from the depths of the water to reach out for his extended offering of warm beer, “when have we ever had nice cups?”

He laughed shrugging, “yeah, you’re right.”

Sitting square in front of you, long legs bent and wide open, Eddie holds up his cup in a cheers, “to you, my love, my sweet beautiful hotter than hell girl who for some reason fell for my charm, happy birthday.”

Clinking a his cup with yours you both smile before taking a swig of the cheap warm beer.

“mm, that’s nice.. what year?” you tease, never even having wine in your life.

He plays along like he always does, swirling the cup and putting the tip of his nose to the rim, “ah yes, a refined 1989 I believe— a good year for Busch I've heard.”

You both laugh until your sides ache. This is why you adored him, making a normal day special by just being him—corny, cheesy, poor— and you had never been happier.

“Oh, wait!” he exclaimed, reaching out of the tub, ribs stretching taunt against his skin, soap sliding down them.

He grabs a lighter from the counter and opens the tub of frosting. Brandishing a white waxed candle tucked behind his ear with the flair of a magician, he plants it in the center before lighting the wick and sitting down roughly in the tub, water splashing onto the floor.

The flame lit up his features, his tongue poked out in concentration, the yellow light filling his dark pudding eyes with a boyish glee, and then they met yours.

“Should I sing?”

You shake your head, happy tears stinging your eyes, “no, this is perfect,”

“Well make a wish.”

You close your eyes tight not knowing what to wish for because all you’ve ever wanted is right in front of you. Blowing out the candle you lean forward and kiss him square on the mouth, hard and deep.

The beer tipped into the tub and was long forgotten as your lips worked down his neck, wet strands of hair curled around, his arms pulling you in, making you sit on his naked lap, the frosting birthday cake sitting on the floor.

You kiss for awhile, your chest pressed into his, his hands squeezing your ass, the heel of his foot knocking the plug from the drain.

“If you don’t stop,” you mutter between kisses, “we’re gonna have a problem.”

Eddie smirks, dimples poking out, stroking your cheek thumb sweeping your swollen bit lip, “throw pillow is already on the bed, besides, I’m not afraid of a little trouble baby.”

#carols prompts #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson blurb #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff

[schemmentis]

Revelation

Anon asked: Prompt: With Jacob living with Melissa, he sees how gay she is around reader and tries to open her eyes for it.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.3k

Pt. 2

“So…” Jacob drawls as he brings the last of the dirty dishes in from the living room. “When are we gonna talk about it? Because I kinda can't pretend I'm not seeing what I'm seeing at this point.”

“What are ya talkin’ ‘bout?” Melissa questions. A stern look at him for his not forthright way of speaking. “Talk about what, kid?”

“Y'know…Y/N.”

“What about Y/N?” Melissa rephrases her original question as she takes a step away from her sink. A hand on her hip as she outright glares at Jacob now. Irritated at his still beating around the actual topic, and now that he's bringing you into it too.

You were the newest member of their little Abbott crew. Still, you had been around long enough that they all knew you fairly well. Melissa, arguably, the most of all of them. Though she wasn't necessarily the warmest person; she certainly was more so than when you had first met her.

You were now a regular on the couch for morning news, at Mel and Barb's table for lunch, and the game nights the red head sometimes hosted. The crew, especially Janine, had wanted it to be held more often. Melissa maintained once a month was more than enough to invite them all into her space after school hours.

She stands even more firm on that stance now that Jacob is staying with her. She's grown more fond of him in their short time so far as roommates. He'd surprised her on more than one occasion for some of the things they had in common. The sharing of Real HouseWives goes a long way just by itself. Still, she wasn't about to invite anyone in any further.

Except, when she wasn't paying attention she already had. You had taken the spot right behind Barbara of being her favorite. Some days, you surpassed her work wife too.

She raises an eyebrow when Jacob still stands across from her in the kitchen. Game night had just ended and he was kindly helping clean up afterward. Then he had to ruin Melissa's mood by implying something about you. She still didn't understand what the younger man was trying to get at as he stumbled over the start of his next sentence beneath her glare. She knew, though, if it was anything bad about you she was prepared to make it however long they stayed sharing a living space hell for him. Even if she did like him.

“Would you just spit it out?”

“How much you like Y/N, is what I was trying to say. I didn't realize how close you two were until now.”

Melissa scoffs. This is what he had gotten her worked up over? She tugs the dish towel slung over her shoulder off to toss it onto Jacob's. “You dry.” She mutters, turning back to her sink to begin washing the used dishes.

“Of course I like Y/N. I don't see what the big deal is.” Melissa says after a moment of washing in silence.

“I knew you always picked her to team up with on game nights, obviously.” Jacob says as he dries the plate she's handed him. “And how you guys are at school and all. I just never noticed the other stuff until staying here.”

“What other stuff, Hill?”

Jacob's brow furrows, realizing Melissa really doesn't see it. “You talk to her every night on the phone.” He says, gently setting the plate into the dish rack before taking the bowl she's holding out to him. “Even though it's only been a few hours since you saw her last.”

“So?”

“I mean, do you do that with Barbara?”

“No, why would I? I'll talk to her in the mornin’ or Monday, whatever. Whenever we're at school next. Unless somethin’ bad's happened.”

“Right…” Jacob trails off, trying to navigate the conversation carefully. Part of him worries he's reading too much into things. The other part is worried he's already irritated the redhead just by starting this conversation and if he is right it's clearly going to be a revelation for Melissa.

He clears his throat, trying another approach. “Do you and, uh, Barbara do anything on the weekends?”

Melissa gives him a side eyed look. A little bit like he's dumb for asking. At least, he's sort of used to that one from her. “No. She's got church and Gerald.” She says like that's obvious and he should know that.

Which, he does know. He shifts the piece of silverware he's drying to the dish rack. “Last weekend you went to the movies with Y/N.”

“Yeah, she wanted to see Barbie. Again. She insisted it's different at the theater.”

“The weekend before that you went to the farmer's market together.”

“I'm not gonna pass up fresh produce, especially the peppers. I can use those in plenty of dishes and you get twice as much than at the supermarket. Besides, Y/N is always looking for fresh, local honey. New vendors, too. If somebody new is at one of the local markets then she's gotta go check it out.”

Silently, Jacob is begging Melissa to get his point but he can see she really isn't.

“You don't think it's…different with Y/N?”

“It's different with all youse.” Melissa answers as she shoves the last cleaned plate into Jacob's hands, frustrated at his prodding. “I ain't with you like I am with Barb and I'm not with Barb like I am with Y/N. What's it matter?”

“It doesn't.” Jacob answers quickly. At least, it doesn't in the way he can tell his questions are beginning to stress Melissa out. He certainly isn't judging, or trying to.

He thought Melissa at least had an idea of the different way her relationship with Y/N was when he first brought it up. He thought he had just caught onto something that was being kept private. Now, though, it's clear to him that Melissa hasn't even considered that relationship to this level.

“I just noticed you guys…spend a lot of time together is all. I thought…” Jacob stops himself from finishing his thought. He doesn't know how Melissa will take it now.

“You thought what?” Melissa presses, wiping down the kitchen counter. She doesn't turn to him but Jacob can hear the glare in her tone.

“I thought you guys were…seeing where things were going.” Jacob hedges.

“What's that even ‘spose to mean?”

“I thought you were dating and just not ready to tell everyone yet.” Jacob finally says plainly.

“Dating?” Melissa echoes, turning back to face Jacob now. In half a second, she gauges his seriousness. He means it. “You thought me and Y/N were, are, dating?”

Jacob shrugs helplessly. “Yeah. You two are just kind of…always together.”

“Well. We’re not.” Melissa says sternly.

Jacob nods. “I get that now. I won't just…assume next time?” He hesitantly promises, mustering a smile he hopes will disarm Melissa's demeanor. “For what it's worth, you guys would be good together, though.” He adds, making his way out of the kitchen to put away monopoly still left out on the coffee table.

Melissa stares after Jacob. He's disappeared from sight but her eyes remain on the space he had stood in before. A knee-jerk part of her says it's ridiculous he even thought the two of you were dating. A larger part acknowledges how he could have thought it.

She takes a deep breath, turning back to the sink. She lets the dirty dish water from the sink. She wipes the faucet and edges before wiping down the metal of the sink once the water’s drained. She drapes the dishrag over the metal divider between the two basins.

Her hands brace against the edge of the sink. A dim metal thunk when her palms hit it with small force. “Shit.” She’s falling for you.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti x you #revelation

[internetgremlin-writes]

56 and 59 with Lewis!! ❤️

56 - "Just marry me already,"

59 - "H-how long have you been standing there?"

this is adorable. 0 warnings

"And I mean seven years is a long time right?" You paused to take a sip from the drink in your hand, grateful that you weren't the one not allowed to drink alcohol in the paddock. "Especially for someone in this industry, yeah?"

"Yeah," Charlotte agreed. You were having what was affectionately referred to as a 'Wag Club' meeting. It was exactly how it sounded, where a collection of the wives and girlfriends of the F1 drivers gathered in the paddock and got drunk together whilst the boys did whatever it was they did best.

"He has girls throwing themselves at him all the time - surely if he doesn't actually want me he can drop me? Why is he keeping me in this limbo?"

"I don't know, sweetie," Luisinha patted your hand affectionately. But you were on a roll by then.

"Like, I don't get it. One minute he's all domestic asking me to move in with him and telling me he loves me so much, the next he's gotten on a flight and is halfway around the world without telling me because something caught his fancy!" You loved Lewis with all your heart, and you'd follow him to the ends of the earth and back, there was no doubt about that. But you'd watch nearly all of your friends get married, and some even have babies with guys they'd not even known when you and Lewis had first started dating. It was fair to say you were starting to get a bit bitter and soaking your sorrows in gin with the only other women you understood your situation seemed like the best thing to do.

You sat quietly, swirling your glass in your hand and staring into the depths as Isa raised a similar point about Carlos.

"His dad drops hints all the time, it's like he's deaf," she giggled, her infectious personality pulling a smile out of you and you found yourself laughing along.

"I know right! I wish he'd just marry me already," there was a murmur of agreement from the girls around the table and then because you were girls, you burst into hysterical giggles at how you would meet every other Sunday throughout most of the year and whine about your privileged lives. Until Charlotte's eyes widened and her smile dropped. She looked like she'd seen a ghost.

She hadn't seen a ghost. She'd seen your boyfriend, Lewis fucking Hamilton, standing right behind you.

Your stomach sank through the floor and you had no interest in the rest of your drink.

"H-how long have you been standing there?" He wasn't smiling.

"We need to talk,"

Shit. Those four dreaded words never preceded anything good. You bid a quick goodbye to your friends who all sent you sympathetic good luck smiles as you stood and followed Lewis. He walked a few paces ahead of you, leaving you trailing behind him with your head down like a scolded puppy.

You didn't say anything until you'd walked all the way through the Mercedes block and up into his driver's room.

"Lewis, I'm so sorry-"

"Do you really think that?"

"What?"

"That I don't want you? That I'm just stringing you along?" You sighed and dropped your head into your hands for a second. This talk had been brewing for a while, or at least you felt like it had. It seemed funny that the hardest decision of your life was one you made in a split second as you decided you didn't want to hide how you felt anymore.

"I don't know, Lew. You're so inconsistent. One day I think you're taking me out to dinner to propose and the next you're on the other side of the planet without so much as a note," you swallowed hard because the next bit was even worse "And you're so famous. You could have any girl you want, whenever you want. It's stupid and it's childish but I get worried sometimes that you just see me as a good placeholder, you know? A nice enough girl with a decent career that the media will see as a good choice,"

He was looking at you like you'd just ripped his intestines out, his eyes scanning your face at lightning speed. You could physically see him deflate as you spoke your mind. His head dropped, his gaze focusing on his feet.

"I'm so stupid," he mumbled, and if you didn't know him inside you would have missed it. He turned away from you and started rummaging around in his wardrobe. You weren't sure what to do with yourself, but it didn't matter because you found yourself frozen to the spot. He turned around, a funny look in his eye you'd only seen a couple of times. "This isn't how I wanted to do this," he sighed

"Wha-" before you could even finish the question he sank down onto one knee, and your mouth dried up and your heart started pounding because holy shit he was holding a small black velvet box.

"I'm an idiot, and you don't have to say yes now,"

"Lewis..."

"I bought this at the start of the season," he explained, nodding to the box in his hand. "I was gonna do this properly, at dinner or something after I won my first race of the season. I just haven't won yet. That was dumb, I didn't need to win a stupid race to know I want to be with you for the rest of my life," you didn't know what to say, because then he was opening the box and holy shit that was the most beautiful diamond ring you'd ever seen in your life.

"Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?" He was rolling his bottom lip between his teeth, the way he did when he was nervous, and he was looking at you with those brown eyes virtually begging with you.

"Of course I will," you rushed out because it wasn't even a thought for you, you'd been dreaming of this day since your third anniversary when he'd planned the most elaborate picnic you'd ever seen and your best friends had been daft enough to convince you it was going to happen then.

"Oh thank god," his eyes closed and his chest heaved in relief and then he was standing up and pulling you towards him in one of the most passionate kisses of your life. You were breathless when he finally pulled away, your hands shaking as he carefully grasped your left one and slid the ring onto your fourth finger. The ring was a perfect fit, and it looked even better on you.

You felt like you were floating as he led you back into the paddock. You didn't go back to the girls, instead of walking hand in hand with Lewis straight to the driver's car park and the back exit, because you needed him in his hotel room right there and then.

The whole week after you were convinced it was a fever dream, every time you stared at your left hand, now adorned with the ring it felt like it wasn't your hand. You didn't believe it until the first paparazzi post came out, and there it was. A photo of you and Lewis out to dinner in your favourite restaurant in Monaco, the photo zoomed in on your hand where the ring was brightly reflecting the camera's flash.

It still took your mother calling you, screaming at you down the phone because how dare you let her find out in a silly magazine, and could you please come home at the earliest convenience because you had a wedding to plan.

#short n sweet #how fluffy of me #1.3k prompt night #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #domestic!lewis strikes again #formula one #f1 #sir lewis hamilton

[jinnie-ret]

Hi! I was just wondering, could you write a oneshot of reader feeling really tired/kinda depressed, like too tired to get up of the bed to get a drink, too tired to even talk and skz just helping them through it and taking care of them? It could be 9th member or just the groupd friend. It's ok if you don't want to or don't feel comfortable with it. Thank you! Lots of love!

slump

stray kids x best friend!reader

genre: angst, fluff

content warnings: mental exhaustion

word count: 1.3k

summary: your best friends notice you've been acting different recently, and help you through your mental rut.

Thank you so much for requesting! I hope you enjoy this one. And if anyone is ever feeling this way, you can always message me, or reach out for help :)

Asks are shut, but if you want to be added to my taglist, let me know! And reblog and like if you enjoyed! <3

MAIN MASTERLIST

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Love, can you open the door?" Changbin's soft voice called out quietly, yet you made no effort to move. You knew he could just as easily open your door and walk in, but he was waiting to see if you had the energy to do it yourself.

"I'll take that as a no," and he walked away from the door, probably back into the kitchen to inform the boys that their latest attempt didn't work.

It wasn't that you didn't want to see them. It was more that your social battery was drained. Not even a good night's sleep was helping you gain energy because, well, although you weren't having sleepless nights, there was still a lot of things weighing on your mind that was stopping you from wanting to do anything.

Buzz.

Oh. They were spamming the group chat again.

kangaroo🖤: remember to have something to eat!

bokkie🐲: pls eat smthn sweaty 💞

prince🖌️: lixie you did not jst call her sweaty that isn't gnna help 😭

mongmong🎤: ignore them sweetie just pls eat smthn if you have the energy yh?

cheese toastie🦊: our minnie is so sweet

quokka boy🥊: careful or he will chnge his mind 👀

kitty boy😼: i'm cooking u dinner rn

dwaekki💪: pls come out and see us love :(

And so the guilt set in once more. You could tell they were doing their best but for the past couple of days you didn't want to do anything at all. And whilst they had asked you, you shut them down every time and waved them off.

The next day, you were due to go into work, something your best friends were well aware of as they had checked your shared calender to see if there was anything upcoming that was overwhelming you.

When you rang into work to call in for a sick day, that was the first time the boys heard your voice in like 48 hours. Croaky. Dry. Exhausted.

Which is what prompted your next visit.

"Hey, Y/Nnie, I've brought you some water. You don't have to talk to us if you don't want to... but, yeah," Felix brought in a bottle filled with ice water and you could tell he didn't know what exactly to do in the situation without you responding to him.

You couldn't help but feel the gratitude within you after he awkwardly smiled at you, and so, you spoke up from your nest in bed.

"Thank you, Lixie."

Within a flash he turned around and grinned warmly at you, excited at just this simple interaction, because him and the boys had been worried sick the past few days. They knew everyone had their moments, but they had never seen you like this before.

After he left, you sipped at your water and continued to mindlessly scroll through your social media feed on your phone. There was still a numbness there. You recognised videos that would normally make you laugh yet no emotion filled you.

And that's what made you feel weirder.

You thought about other times people went into some sort of slump and they'd normally be sad, upset for some reason. But no, not you.

You felt emotionless. The loneliness wasn't what sucked you in yet it was like a part of your brain felt like it had shut off. And that lasted for the next few hours until the members caught you out of bed looking for something in the cupboard to eat.

"Oh, Y/N!" Han jumped back with a hand on his heart, yet you carried on in your sluggish efforts to make something to eat.

"You're out of bed?" Jeongin was shocked until he winced from the small slap on the back of his head from Changbin.

"Don't eat that, it's not good for you, here, heat this up," Lee Know took away the instant noodles from your grasp and instead pulled out a container with a portion of dinner he had made last night. He seemed to be taking control yet he wanted to see you do something for yourself. He hoped it was motivating and that the simplest thing of heating up your own food would lead you towards an upward trajectory of going back to your usual self.

You slowly padded across the kitchen to the microwave and shoved the food in, a gentle hand tapping you on the shoulder as you shut the machine's door.

"Let's talk, Y/N," Chan guided you to the sofa in the lounge connected to the kitchen, the rest of your friends following through. There was no choice in the matter, yet the eldest remained calm which reassured you slightly.

"We've been worried about you," Hyunjin spoke for everyone when he said that.

"Sorry," you whisper, picking at the threads of your baggy jumper sleeve.

"No, don't apologise. We just want to know what's going on in that head of yours," Seungmin leans forward as he speaks quietly.

You simply shrug.

"Y/Nnie?" Chan further prompted.

"I don't know," you shrugged again, not even knowing how to explain what was going on.

"You don't know?" Felix looked around at the other members, confused.

Just then, the microwave dinged, and you stood up to go and get your food, but Lee Know's hands on your shoulders stopped you.

"Don't worry about that now. Just talk to us, anything," his thumbs rubbed soothing circles before he moved away.

"I-I don't know what you want me to say," you brought your legs up to your chest.

"We know you had work today," Changbin mentioned.

"It's ok, I called in sick," you mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

"Do you have a temperature?" Han frowned, feeling your forehead but that answered his question.

"I just didn't feel like it... but not in like a lazy way but I just couldn't... mentally do it?" your answer came out as a rushed question, not even sure yourself but it made sense to the rest of the boys.

"Ah, sweetie, you should have said," Hyunjin pouted, feeling bad that you were struggling.

"Not that easy though, is it?" you looked up and saw Chan crouched down in front of you.

"It's not, we know that, but we want you to always know that you've got us to fall back on, no matter what, ok?" he grabbed your hands as he said this, squeezing them so that you knew he was physically there.

"Y/Nnie... you know you don't have to always have energy, right? It's ok to have your down days," Han said seriously, which even caused Chan to look at him surprisingly as he moved away from in front of you.

"I feel like..." you began, but trailed off shaking your head.

"Tell us, talk to us love," Changbin insisted.

"I feel like I have to keep telling myself I can do it, but I know I'm lying to myself, I guess?" you sighed, leaning further back into the sofa.

"You can do it, we all know you can," Jeongin encouraged you sweetly.

"But if you can't right now, that's also fine," Seungmin added on.

And there was no need for you to verbally respond, because these safety oozing from them was wrapping you in a nice comfy blanket.

Oh, and Felix was also wrapping you in a blanket, that could have been why you felt the sudden warmth.

"Right, now you can eat," Lee Know nodded, satisfied with how the conversation had played out.

"Me too, hyung!" Han and Hyunjin both dashed after Lee Know, begging him for food too, and with that you smiled.

"There you are," Changbin titled your head up as you smiled, his face mirroring yours.

"If all it took was for Han and Hyunjin to be whiny and complain, we could have had this conversation a lot sooner," Seungmin rolled his eyes fondly, thinking of the two 00 liners who were bickering earlier that day.

"Don't ruin the moment Seungmin," Chan tutted jokingly.

But it didn't ruin the moment. Seeing them act normally around you again after they had cleared up what was going on made you feel better.

You felt, once again.

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @backintomykpopphaseagain @sakufilms @hanjiquokkaaa @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z

#skz #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids #skz fluff #skz angst #straykids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #skz fic

[mxlti-fand0m-imaginess]

Sleepover // Hazel Callahan

request: okay what about one bed trope with college Hazel, lots of tension lots of nervousness!!

prompts: none!

summary: when your roommate decides to bring her boyfriend over for a night of fun, you turn to your close friend, and long time crush, for a place to spend the night.

warnings: slightly suggestive, mentions of sex, language

word count: 1.3k

a/n: gn!reader

sorry about my small disappearence! school has been kicking my ass as of late :/ but i'm gonna try my best to be more active!

You stood outside Hazel’s dorm, anxiously twiddling with your necklace, as you debated whether or not to knock. It was almost three in the morning, and you really didn’t want to bother her; you just couldn’t stand to stay in your dorm anymore, not with your roommate and her boyfriend currently going at it like rabbits. And you knew what would happen if you asked Hazel to spend the night. She would let you, without hesitation, and would probably even give you her bed and opt to sleep on the floor instead. Because that’s the kind of friend she was, and you loved her for it.

Still, you couldn’t help but feel like you were taking advantage of her kindness. She was such a good person, always helping others and brightening everyone’s day. And you just couldn't help but feel guilty, having almost nothing to offer her in return. You’d tried to voice this to her multiple times, but she always brushed it off, saying she liked being nice and didn’t expect anything in return for it. If only you were able to accept that. 

Shoving your nerves aside, you gently knocked on the door, knowing that your only alternative would be sleeping in your own bed and being forced to listen to your roommate’s activities. Before your fist could even leave the door, Hazel opened it, tired eyes gazing back at your own. Upon noticing that it was you at her door, Hazel suddenly seemed a lot more awake, her bright blue eyes wide as she looked at you.

“Hey. I’m really sorry to wake you,” you said, an awkward half smile on your face.

Hazel quickly shook her head, pushing the door open a bit more and taking a small step towards you. “You didn’t wake me! I- uh… couldn’t sleep,” Hazel replied, seeming almost embarrassed to admit that. “What’s up?”

“Could I possibly spend the night here? My roommate and her boyfriend are at it again and I can’t stomach listening to that any longer.”

Hazel smiled empathtically and stepped aside, giving you the space to enter. “I know what that’s like. Back in highschool, my mom and the quarterback were at it almost every night.” Hazel’s eyes went wide at her own words, regretting what she had said almost immediately after the words left her mouth. 

“That sounds like hell,” you grimaced, stepping inside and standing there awkwardly as Hazel shut the door behind you. 

“So… you can take my bed. I’ll just sleep on the floor,” Hazel said, walking over to her bed to grab a pillow.

You sighed, you knew this would happen. You didn’t want to banish her to the floor in her own dorm just because you couldn’t sleep in yours. “No, I’ll take the floor. It’s your room, you should sleep in your bed.”

“Well you’re the guest. You should get the bed,” Hazel replied, a smile growing on her face.

You shook your head, smiling in return as something shifted in the atmosphere between you two. “I am not a guest. I’m an inconvenience at best. I’m not gonna let you sleep on the floor.”

“And I’m not gonna let you sleep on the floor.”

You and Hazel stood there for a moment, lost in thought and just looking at each other, neither one knowing what to say next, until you brought it upon yourself to break the silence. 

“We could always just share the bed…?” you offered, a twinge of anxiety in your voice as you feared her rejecting your completely platonic suggestion.

Yet despite your beliefs, Hazel seemed to perk up at the idea, the thought of being able to be that close to you making her stomach erupt into butterflies. 

“I wouldn’t mind that. But my bed’s kinda small, we’d have to be pretty close.”

You smiled, your own stomach growing fluttery. “I don’t mind.”

Hazel climbed into her bed, pulling the blanket back far enough so you could climb in too. Placing your backpack down, you walked over and got in bed beside her, laying right on the edge of the mattress and facing away from her, almost as if you were too scared to touch her or even look at her. But you could practically feel the heat radiating from her body, and your head went dizzy from the feeling. You pulled the blanket over yourself and tried to fall asleep, which was proving to be very difficult when you were also focusing on not falling off the bed. 

“You’re gonna fall off the bed,” Hazel said, seemingly aware of your internal struggle. You sighed, not knowing what to say, when you felt an arm being thrown over your waist. “Just- c’mere,” Hazel muttered, pulling you back into her chest with ease and keeping her arm draped over your waist to hold you in place.

Your breath hitched at the feeling. You always forgot just how strong Hazel was, her ability to practically throw you around like a ragdoll igniting something within you. You desperately wanted to sleep, but how could you when the girl you were secretly madly in love with was basically spooning you? It was almost too much to take.

“You alright? You’re breathing pretty fast,” Hazel mumbled, her face buried against your shoulder as she held you in her grip.

You nodded. “Mhm. I’m fine.”

“You sure…?” 

Hazel’s tone almost sounded teasing. Was she flirting with you? No, that’s insane. Why would she be flirting with you? It’s not like she felt the same. Unless… She was holding you pretty close, and her grip on you didn’t feel all that friend-like… You forced your mind to quiet, not wanting to let your thoughts run wild and jump to conclusions that didn’t exist.

“Yep. I- I’m sure.”

Fuck. Of course you just had to stutter. Just great.

“Look at me,” Hazel asked, her grip on your loosening so you could turn around. 

“No thanks. I think I’m good facing this way.”

Hazel sighed and wrapped her arm around your waist before forcibly turning you over to face her. You gasped softly at the unexpected movement, shocked that she would just do that. 

“I thought I could do this, but I can’t. I just… I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep hiding this from you,” Hazel whispered, her blue eyes piercing into yours.

“Hazel… what are you talking about?”

Hazel took a deep breath, never once looking away from you. “I-... I’m in love with you. And I never would’ve said anything, but I could just feel you breathing faster when I held you and you seemed so much more nervous than usual, and I-... I just need to know if you feel the same.”

Your eyes widened as you took in your words. Was this really happening? It was three in the morning, your brain could’ve been playing a trick on you. But the earnest look on Hazel’s face, her eyes flitting over your face as she desperately waited for a response. As unbelievable as it all felt, something just felt so… real. You brought your hand up to brush some hair away from her eyes and you smiled softly at her.

“I’m in love with you, too. I have been for so long. I just… I never thought you could feel the same.”

Hazel smiled brightly at your words, and suddenly her lips were on yours. And everything just felt… right. It was like you had been seeing the whole world in black and white, and she taught you how to see color. Everything just made sense when you were with her. You kissed her back, your hand coming up to rest against her cheek as you tried to pour all your feelings into your movements. 

Reluctantly pulling away for air, you pressed your forehead against hers, just savoring the closeness between you. 

“Remind me to thank my roommate for her insanely high libido.”

Hazel couldn’t help but giggle at your words, wrapping her arms around you and pulling you close once more. 

tags: @hazelvrr @ohnomywenis @fictionalgap @ihyperfixatetoomuch @usuck @mxqdii @girlsarecool @thestarkinternship

#imagine #imagines #x reader #oneshot #smut #blurb #hazel callahan #hazel callahan smut #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan imagine #hazel callahan oneshot #hazel callahan blurb #hazel callahan fic #hazel callahan fanfic #hazel callahan fanfiction #bottoms film #bottoms 2023 #bottoms x reader #bottoms smut #bottoms imagine #bottoms oneshot #bottoms blurb #bottoms fic #bottoms fanfic #bottoms fanfiction #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #ruby cruz #hazel callahan fluff

[lovelettersforthedamned]

on the prompt list 2 of angst "you're being mean." gives very much that little women scene but maybe with a happy ending cuz I wanna stay with Peter 🙏🙏🙏 I love that man - 🎀

Breathe

--genre: angst & fluff (at the end)

--pairing: tasm!peter parker x reader

--word count: 1.3k

--warnings: language, reader has a slight panic attack, hyperventilating, peter is a big meanie in this, mention of wilson fisk (fuck that guy LOL).

--gif credits: @sincericida (aka the best)

At this moment, you wish you could time travel back to fifteen minutes ago. Fifteen minutes ago, you were lounging on the couch. Fifteen minutes ago, you were in the middle of the TV show you’ve been binging for the past week. Fifteen minutes ago, you were at peace, sort of. 

Peter has been pushing himself past his limit for a while now. He would go out to patrol at night, come back well after midnight, and fall asleep on the couch. During the day, he’s off to work before you wake up. And if you do see him in the morning, he barely acknowledges your presence. Even though you two live together, it feels like you haven’t seen him in a few weeks. 

But now, you wish you didn’t see him tonight. His mood was sour as soon as he slipped through the window. He’s home early tonight. You look over to the clock beside you, the digital lines showing you that it was only eleven. You paused the show, calling out to him over your shoulder, “Hey, Pete! You’re home early.”

You were met with no response, only his heavy footsteps leading to your shared bedroom. You frown slightly as you rise to your feet, following him. He flips on the light when he enters the room, you gasp at the sight. He’s covered in dirt from head to toe, even some of it caking onto the grooves of his suit. 

He was holding his mask in his hand before he tossed it to the corner of the room. He starts to undress, and the more he pulls and pushes off his suit, the more you can see how blank his face is. He was standing in front of the mirror, but his eyes weren’t focused on anything. He just had this blank stare. 

You slowly walk up to him, before speaking, “Baby? Can I get you any water or anything?” Your tone was soft and cautious. You didn’t know what state he was in, the last time he was like this was a few years ago, right when he first started being the ‘friendly neighborhood Spider-Man’. Granted, you two were just friends at the time. It took him a while to come back to his normal self, but he was responsive throughout the entire time. And now, he still doesn’t answer you. 

You try again, “Hey, Peter…Let me help—”. 

“Fuck! No (Y/N), just get out! You’re starting to piss me the fuck off.”

A small gasp escapes your lips, as you take a step back out of surprise. He’s never yelled at you like this, but now that he has, you hated how it made you feel. Tears instantly well into your eyes as you try to maintain your composure. 

He’s now fully stripped from his suit, he leaves it on the ground when he starts to grab a change of clothes from the drawer next to him. You can’t help but look at his demeanor. He’s frantic and angry, and based on the slouch on his shoulders, he’s tired. You must’ve zoned out because Peter spots you still standing there looking at him, he walks over to you when he slips a shirt over his head. “Hey,” he is now directly in front of you, “are you stupid? I said, get—”. 

It’s you who cuts him off this time, you speak, still soft, “You’re being mean, Peter.” 

Now that Peter’s in front of you, he can see you clearly, his mind no longer jaded with the fog that came with patrolling. Your eyes are spilling tears down your cheeks while you try to hold back the sounds that come with sobs. It’s like Peter has been slammed with reality as soon as he made eye contact with you. And just like that, he realized what he said to you not even a minute ago. “Bug…I am so sorry,” he goes in for a hug, fully expecting to be met with your figure until you step back. 

He looks at you, your demeanor clearly shows that you don’t accept his apology just yet. “What has been going on with you these past weeks? Why does it feel like you’ve been avoiding me, huh? Why!” You yell at him, your emotions coating your throat with anger. 

You can’t help but push at his chest with as much strength as you can muster. Of course, you at your strongest wouldn’t even leave a dent in Peter. Fuck his stupid super strength. Nonetheless, you still tried to hurt him the same way he did for weeks. Your cries echo off the walls. 

Peter hated seeing you like this, and it kills him to think that he was the one that caused this. He could see that you were draining yourself as you tried to punch and push him. He softly grabbed your wrists, pausing your movements, as you cried out, “You made–made me feel like I was invisible, and I hated that feeling Peter.” 

With Peter still holding you, you sink to the floor. Your body was exhausted. As you fell, Peter sank with you, making sure you didn’t hit the floor. Your breathing is still choppy, not quite catching a good breath, you could feel Peter push stray hairs that have fallen into your face behind your ear. 

“(Y/N), I am so sorry. Fisk has been fucking up my nights, and now my days. He’s getting closer and closer to you, and it scares the shit out of me, bug. I know that’s not an excuse for anything I’ve done or said to you, but please I need you to take a breath for me. Please,” his voice starts to shake as he opens up to you. 

It takes you a second before you can take a proper breath, Peter’s hand rubbing up and down your back as you do. His movements are slow as he takes his time with you. He’s trying so hard to make up for the time he’s spent avoiding you. He takes you all in, even in your current state. Peter can’t help but think about how stupid he’s been. He hasn’t even considered how you’ve been feeling while he thought he was protecting you. You had no idea. How could you? 

Once you’ve regained your breath, you look up at Peter, who has been looking at you this entire time. “Pete,” you start, holding his face, “you can’t leave me in the dark with these things. We’re a team. You can tell me when things get rough, baby. You don’t need to let it fester in your mind until something like this happens again. Let me help you, Peter. Let me in.”

With your hand still holding his cheek, he brings his own to hold it in place, sinking into your touch. He nods as tears prick into his eyes. “I’m sorry, bug. I am so fucking sorry,” his tears fall onto his cheeks as you wipe them away. 

You pull his forehead to touch yours, closing your eyes as you take a breath as he’s here with you, “We’ll figure this out. I promise you we will. And I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

“I love you,” he whispers.

You pull away from his touch, just to reconnect it through a deep kiss. You could taste the salt on his lips from the tears that made their way to them, but you didn’t care. Pulling away, you flash him a small smile, “I love you too.”

--author's note: okay pause, because this was supposed to be just a little blurb, but i couldn't resist. i am a huge sucker for angsty things, so i LOVED this. also, wanting to stay with peter is so real bc he's so bf coded...ANYWAYS thank you 🎀 anon for requesting yet another banger omg. my inbox/request are open!!! also my 200 follower celebration is ending soon, so send in those requests! don't forget to like, comment, and reblog if you love what you read. okay, ily bye<333

#marvel #peter parker x reader #andrew garfield peter parker #peter parker #fluff #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker angst #🎀 anon #LLFTD 200 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION

[nctsworld]

at your earliest convenience

✩‌ haechan x reader | fluff | 1.3k

SUMMARY | in which haechan is always your one (and annoying) late-night customer at the 24/7 convenience store you work at and one evening, he forgets his wallet. in lieu of payment, he asks if he can take you out on a date instead. // part of the connection series

WARNINGS | slightly insecure reader, none really!

RATING | teen+

AUTHOR'S NOTE | please check out (and maybe send in some prompt requests) @nctpromptmeme!

You ring him up, like clockwork. 

The scanner picks up a bag of the Korean brand onion rings, two Red Bulls, and an instant noodle cup.  

He’s the only consistent man in your life, ignoring the fact that the sole reason why he’s in your life is because he always comes into the 24/7 convenience store you work at during late, sometimes ungodly, hours. Tonight, it’s not that bad: 1:53am. 

Rarely, no one else strolls in during your shift (and you’re grateful it’s a safe neighbourhood). 

However, this young man lives to make your shift a painful one. 

Usually with ruffled hair, transparent-framed glasses, and a simple t-shirt and sweatpants, he saunters in as if he owns the store, often swinging his keys or obnoxiously whistling along to the song playing in the background. From the moment he steps into the store, his existence alone irks you. 

Unsurprisingly, he then takes a solid ten minutes on average (yes, you’ve timed it) to buy his items. Whistling evolves into screeches or emphatic oohs and aahs. Sometimes, he even narrates the entire process, as if he's the main character in a show. And yet, despite it all, he ends up buying the same rotation of his favourite items. 

If not the onion rings, the shrimp crackers. If not the Red Bulls, the bottles of Monster instead. He may be grabbing one cup of noodles tonight, but other times it’s three. Potentially even a completely different brand, if he’s feeling adventurous.   

On that note, predictability is in his nature. You plead internally for him to live a little, to maybe even spice up his night with a little change, for crying out loud. Heck, maybe even change the grey or black t-shirt he always wears to a shade that’s not a neutral tone or to put on a jacket for once. 

And the cherry on top is the constant annoying smirk he flashes when you tell him his total. 

You want to punch it off his face, smear it across the shiny floors with the dirty mop water you use at the beginning and end of shift.  

“How are you doing tonight, gorgeous?” he asks. Sometimes gorgeous is replaced with beautiful or cutie. It only adds to his annoyance of regularity and you have an itch he does this all the time with others, making you not take his typical endearing terms seriously.  

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “I’m not gorgeous, but, as always, thank you for the compliment.” 

His smirk melts, and you catch yourself feeling a tinge of something as his features soften. 

“You are, though,” your regular says. You quickly glance up, wondering if that pout and look in his eyes are genuine. “You know that I call you gorgeous because I mean it, right?” 

You’re unsure how to react, so you give a small nod and repeat the total, softly this time.

There’s a beat when the man gets lost in thought, but the moment quickly fades. He reaches into his sweatpants. However, he stops abruptly, before he reaches in again and pats the outside of his other pockets. 

“Fuck,” he hisses. You realize two things: one, you’ve never heard him curse; and two, he doesn’t have his wallet.

Well, that surely is different than usual.

Instinctively, you pull the snacks toward you. 

“Don’t you dare think I’m letting you walk away with everything for free,” you say, half-jokingly. Even though you’re 80% certain you can trust him, you still don’t know what he’s like.  

He smiles sweetly, quite differently than his smirks, forcing you to admit he’s handsome (just a little). “How could you expect me to stoop that low?” he whine-asks, clutching his chest in pain. 

After a moment of staring up at the ceiling in thought with his tongue running against his lower teeth, a Cheshire grin spreads over his face and he raises an eyebrow.

You don’t like it one bit and regret the moment earlier, mentally punching yourself for finding him a tiny bit attractive. 

“How about…”—he pauses as he rhythmically taps his fingers onto the counter—“...you let me take you out on a date in exchange for these items?” 

A scoff releases into the air. “Are you really telling me I’m only worth $11.87?” 

“What—no! Of course not,” he flicks a wrist upward in annoyance, then gestures to himself. “A date with me is worth way more in value, so you’ll be getting a better bargain.” 

You could not believe this guy. “Is a date with you really going to be worth it?” 

“Look,” he leans in over the counter and you catch a whiff of a light, woody scent. You fight off the desire to deeply inhale it. “No matter where we go or what happens, I’ll make sure you’ll be happy by the end of it. Isn’t that worth taking the risk of losing $11.87?” 

Squinting your eyes at him, while still clutching the goods he wants, you start to warm-up to the idea since you don’t have anything to lose (but maybe that’s due to the influence of his slightly intoxicating aura). 

“Will you choose the date location?” you ask, guarded.

He shakes his head. “Everything will be up to you and I’ll try to accommodate my schedule as best as I can.” 

You raise an eyebrow, challenging him. “And what if I want to go to the most expensive restaurant in town?”

Without hesitation, he nods. “Then we’ll go to the most expensive restaurant in town.” 

“If I wanted to order the $130 steak?” 

“$130 steak it is.” 

“If I—” 

The cute (you can’t deny it at this point) stranger cuts you off with a raise of his hand. God, you hate how cocky he is. 

Suddenly, he holds out a hand, sticking his pinky finger up. He waggles it, and you realize he’s waiting for you to do the same. You curl a pinky around his.

“There. I promise you—cross my heart and swear on my mother’s life—that I’ll uphold and adhere to whatever date conditions you ask of me.” He straightens, stepping away from the counter. “Now, can I please have my snacks and drinks?” 

The events of tonight took quite a turn. Never in a million years would you think Mr. Predictability would ask you out on a date, let alone be pretty sweet about it.  

Perhaps there’s more to him than you thought. 

You hand him your phone, and he does the same. 

When he gives it back, you shake your head at the text he sent and the name he gave himself.

“Hyuck?” you ask, unfamiliar with the name.  

“Short for Donghyuck, but yes, beautiful?”

You turn your phone towards him in disbelief. “What’s with the heart next to your name?” 

He shrugs, flashing you another smug smile. “What about it?”  

Glancing down at his phone, he beams. You wonder if it’s because you wrote the following in brackets after your name: You Owe Me a Date Worth More than $11.87. 

“And your name is just as beautiful as you are.” 

Again, another eye roll. You wonder if the date will be filled with more of it. You shove the stuff towards him. 

“I have to know: do those lines really work?”

“Well, I have a date lined up with you, so you tell me.” 

Before you have a chance to retort, he grabs something out from his pocket.

A wallet.

His motherfucking wallet, and he has the audacity to toss a $20 bill onto the counter with the same grin that you still want to wipe the floor with. Your jaw hangs. 

“Keep the change,” he says, along with your name and grants you a wink as he grabs his items. 

“I’ll be seeing you on our date soon, gorgeous.” 

AUTHOR'S ENDING NOTE

thank you for reading! i've been getting so much love for this - y'all are amazing. if you would like to read an informal continuation, see here!

#yn brainrot #haechan fluff #haechan x reader #haechan scenarios #haechan imagines #haechan fanfic #nct fluff #nct x reader #nct fanfic #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 fanfic #nct dream fluff #nct dream fanfic #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios

[wave2tyun]

eyes locked, hands locked | ☆

pairing: prince!soobin x reader

genre: royal!au, fluff<3

prompts: - “was that your first kiss?”

- “stop looking at me like that”

warnings: none!

word count: 1.3k

a/n: i apologise for the long wait my lovely anon!!😔😔💞 have fun reading hehe!! :DD<3💞💓💖💘💞 honestly, going through this one again really makes me want to have another go at royal aus, perhaps something longer?? but at the same time i have too many wips going on and AHHHHHHHH i wish the fics would write themselves as fast as my thoughts go through my brain<//3

☆ = repost from my old blog!!

there was nothing more besides the cheery, tiny crickets in the grass that kept you company in the coldness of the night.

while everybody else was busy running around the castle, setting food down on the tables or balancing the champagne-filled glasses on silver trays, your one and only job was to watch over the garden’s flower section, careful so as not to let any curious kids wander off around the perimeter and trample all over them in the darkness.

that was how you were supposed to spend your evening: pacing around the cobblestone pathway, watching the moon and stars, feeling your heart ache as the grand classical music pierced the silence at midnight, wondering if soobin had found himself a partner to dance with, to hold close, to court.

you could tell that the chore had been specially tailored for you by the queen: it kept you away from the ballroom, the guests, and most importantly, from her son. she wasn’t exactly fond of the way the relationship between the two of you had been evolving- your presence left a bitter taste in her mouth, she couldn’t risk having you, a maid, impede the royal family from continuing their pure, blue blood heritage.

you were way too absorbed by the dancing silhouettes you could see from the windows -wishing that you, too, could slip inside- that you didn’t hear the sound of footsteps approaching.

soobin was right behind your back, out of breath, hands slightly sweating while he looked at your figure. he wrapped his arms around your torso, pulling you in tightly as he tenderly embraced you “i missed you” you heard him whisper, his breath tickling the back of your neck.

you couldn’t fight back the smile taking over your face, feeling relief that he was alongside you, and not with some stranger, holding them close to his chest, swaying them across the dance floor “how did you sneak out?”

“beomgyu helped me- he made a mess at the dining table while attempting to pull a magic trick” soobin chuckled, remembering the way all the plates and glasses flew in the air as his friend pulled at the table cloth “needless to say, my parents were too astounded to keep their eyes on me”

you laughed at his explanation, knowing beomgyu, the incident must have been much more ridiculous than anything you could ever imagine. he sacrificed himself just so that the two of you could meet. however, the royal family adored him too much to ever throw him out, not matter how chaotic his endeavours were.

“i missed this” soobin placed a kiss on your right shoulder “-and this” he sweetly pecked your cheek, then spun your body around so that you could fully face him. the dim light shining from the lamp poles illuminated your features, giving them a gentle, mellow glow, and, perhaps without even realising it, soobin was leaning closer towards your lips. your breath hitched in your throat as you noticed how short the distance between you was getting, and yet, you allowed him to do it- to close the remaining gap.

you were stiff, anxious, forgetting to close your eyes or at least kiss him back, your mind could only focus on the softness of his lips and how his hand began to trail further down your waist. soobin separated himself from you hesitantly, not too much, only to the point where you could still feel his breath fanning on your face “i apologise, did i go too far-“

“no- that’s not the case” you cut him off. there was a tremble in your voice and it was impossible for him to tell whether it was from anger, sadness, or perhaps nervousness. you tapped your lips with your fingers, struggling the words that wouldn’t make this more embarrassing for you than it already was.

soobin’s head tilted to the side, expecting you to go on further. he couldn’t quite understand why you just stood there when he kissed you, like a statue devoid of emotion. you had always been cold on the surface, mostly unaccepting of any external forces. that didn’t stop soobin from delving deeper inside your heart, he knew that, in reality, behind all your pretending, you were warm, a certain kind of warmth that he’d crave more and more as time went on.

which is why, despite all the distance you had desperately tried to place between the two of you over the years, he still found himself calling out for you. it was inevitable- you were pulling him in like a magnet.

the flowers seemed to pick at his interest only when he walked around the garden with you. maybe because he was all too immersed by your gaze, wanting to find out which plant had your wholehearted attention. maybe it was because he wanted you to look at him that way too- or, maybe he just dreamed of gifting you a bouquet of all your favorite flowers, all handpicked by him from the garden.

the pastries tasted better whenever you were the one who made them, not mr. hughes, the main chef, or any of the other maids. so, each time he spotted a fresh batch made by you in the castle’s kitchen, he’d place one in his mouth stuffing his pockets with at least four more pieces. the butter from the sweets turned the fabric into a dirty, buttery mess, which the maids on cleaning duty loved to complain about. they couldn’t get how, at some point during the week, the pants in his laundry basket managed to reach this state.

he couldn’t deny it, he was completely, thoroughly infatuated by you.

“it’s all new to me” you attempted to reveal the truth, unaware of how vague your statement must have sounded.

soobin continued to look at you with a purely clueless look “what is?” the tone of his voice was a mixture of confusion and concern.

“this” your thumb reached out to graze his lower lip, eyes following the motion. soobin took your hand, holding it against his cheek while smiling.

“was that your first kiss?” his voice quivered as he asked, hiding a laugh. the situation, albeit embarrassing for you, was foolishly endearing for him.

“stop looking at me like that” you dodged his question, returning to your usual, rash behaviour, but soobin knew that you were only doing it out of nervousness.

“why? am i making your heart thump faster?” he whispered, placing a kiss on the inside of your palm “or-“ he leaned down, continuing to speak in a low tone as he reached your ear “perhaps you already want more?”

you gave his shoulder a slight push. where was the flustered boy from a few seconds ago, the one whose eyes widened at the thought of having stolen your first kiss?

“i think you’re getting way too ahead of yourself-”

“i’m not, you’re just afraid” he provoked you, now that it was clear in his mind that you did want the kiss, you just didn’t know how to return it. knowing your ego and short temper, how else could he ensure himself another taste, if not by teasing you?

“afraid of what?” you scoffed.

“of being a bad kisser”

“i’m not-“ your tone sharpened as you looked at him.

“well, how would you know?” he snickered “wasn’t this your first kiss, or am i mistaken?”

by the way he spoke, you could tell that he was enjoying this more and more by the second. catching on to the trap he was leading you to, you grabbed a fistful of his shirt, a tangled mixture of his collar and necklace in your hand as you pulled him closer, pressing your lips to his. you didn’t know exactly what to do, you only puckered your lips, hoping that it was enough to make a difference from your earlier kiss. soobin pulled away with a chuckle, tilting your chin up with one finger “i believe you need more practice, sweetheart”

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