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#I ended up not being able to write anything last night
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BREAKING THE LOOP
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Pairing - Jackson Rippner x fem!reader
Summary - You're in an endless loop with your ex, he drops by, you shout at him, you end up tangled in the sheets together and then he leaves. But tonight, he intends on changing your routine.
Warnings - p in v, dub con, toxic relationships, breeding kink.
Word count - 1.4k+
Notes - I love I love writing about Jackson, muah.
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This happened every single time. Every few weeks to months, he would drop by, a large lavish bouquet of flowers in one hand accompanied by a devilish smirk on his cold lips. As he cockily waited for you to welcome him inside. 
There would be this stubborn masquerade that you didn’t care he had returned, that you didn’t want him. But quickly, you’d fold like a cheap deck of cards. The sensation of being high on the thrill, rapture and control of him took over your senses and logic every single damn time. 
However, those euphoric stimulations always ran down rapidly. After only a few mere days, you’d wake up alone in your empty bed, his existence completely gone from your life once more.No more, at least that’s what you told yourself. 
Jackson was your ex-boyfriend, he needed to remain that way. He had used you for his sick profession and then blackmailed you with your sex tape that he so desperately begged for weeks prior. You were forced into staying quiet as he left you in the dark of his professional intentions. Every night, Jackson told you he loved you as he plunged his cock deep inside of you. Naively, you believed him, you wanted to desperately block out his menacing lifestyle. The two of you believed ignorance was bliss, if you didn’t know what he was up to, your relationship would be fine. 
For some time, it was. If fine meant Jackson being completely controlling over your life. But you loved him too much to see it that way. When the news came on the television of an assassination of a highly regarded politician and his innocent wife, he so confidently and proudly told you that he had orchestrated it. You broke up with him on the spot, it was all too much on your morality and heart. After a massive dispute which involved you throwing anything you could get your hands on at him, Jackson complied, enjoying this little game and disappeared. 
Every single night you hated yourself for how badly you missed him. It made you sick to your stomach. The guiltiest part of you silently begged him to come back, yet when he finally did, your fire inside was lit again.  
That’s how the endless loop began. He’d return home, you’d be furious at the knowledge of his true identity, but fall a slave for his beauty and touch. Jackson would ask you, “are we getting back together now?” And you’d stubbornly say no, holding onto the last bit of your dignity. 
No, I will not be doing this again. That’s what you told yourself when you opened the door to his angelic brunette hair and piercing blue eyes. He was wearing another typical business suit, yet again the large bouquet of flowers was in hand with a small suitcase standing by his legs. With a swift catch of the door before it could shut him out, he laughed at the persona he so missed dearly. 
Here you were again, cockdrunk, back pressed deep into the mattress, your legs tangled over Jackson’s shoulders as he pounded his cock deep inside of you. Whilst being a moaning mess, you were scratching at Jackson’s bare back. It was the only way you would be able to get back at him. Boy how he loved you digging your nails into his flesh. 
“I fucking hate you” you gasped, your core clenching around him. 
“You could tell me to stop at any moment” he mocked, gripping onto both sides of your face. 
He was right, you only needed to tell him to stop and he would. Well, potentially, you’ve never actually been in that situation before. Jackson kissed you deeply as he flexed his hips sternly over and over again. Not failing once to hit your cervix. 
Another tsunami crashed over you as you whined out his name, eyes forced shut with your body trembling from pleasure. You’d lost count how many times you’ve came around him in the past hour. Jackson exhaled deeply as he pulled his length out of you slowly and gently nudged your legs off of his shoulders. 
“My perfect girl, oh how I’ve missed you” he whispered as your body felt dead on the mattress. Stubbornly, you didn’t respond and he chuckled silently, oh how he missed your bite. 
He looked down to the scar on your breast, his fingers brushed over the gorgeous mark that he was so envious of. It should have been him. If he ever found the man that did this, he’d kill him. Only Jackson deserved to be in control of your worst moments. 
“So are we back together?” He teased, playfully smacking your thigh as he propped his body to hover over yours. 
“Shut up” you mumbled as you turned your head to the side. 
“Well, I’d tell you to make up your mind, but either way. I’m going to fuck a baby into you by the end of this weekend” Jackson said casually, a innocent smile on his lips. 
Your head snapped towards him as you tried to pick out the humor from his expression. But there was nothing but seriousness. 
“What?” You replied. 
The heated red from your face was now gone. You could feel your heart pound in your chest as you nervously watched him. There was a pause as he observed your anxious look, he couldn’t help but to admire you. 
“I’m. Going. To. Fuck. A. Baby. Into. You” Jackson spoke slowly, his voice dripping of sarcasm and sneer. You scoffed at his demand and pressed your hands to his bare, moist chest as he was slowly leaning his body closer to yours. 
“I’m on the pill” you lied, blinking more times than necessary. 
“No you’re not” Jackson chuckled, rubbing your cheek in an attempt to ease your nerves. “You think I don’t have access to your bank transactions?” He grinned, this crazed look on his expression. 
You blinked hard. Of course he was watching your every move. How could you have been so stupid to think he wasn't tailing you? 
You thought it was pointless being on the pill since he only dropped by here and there. Plus, the cheques he’d send you every week covered the bill. There were too many frustrating side effects with the pill. It was just easier to get the morning after pill by the end of it. There was no one else you were sleeping with, with his nature you wouldn’t dare putting some innocent booty call at risk. 
Jackson kissed your neck in a sloppy manner. Your hands tried to push his weight off of you but was failing dramatically. “Jackson, stop” you ordered, but he ignored you, kissing your jaw now. His tongue was slithering all over your skin. “You said you’d stop if I asked!” You cried out, your body shaking with fear as he came to a sudden stop.
A beat.
“Well, I lied” he said quietly, emotionlessly. 
There was nothing else you could do but scream. Your body thrashed underneath his but he swiftly pinned your arms down as you went full speed ahead with your tantrum. It was amusing, watching your emotions spike rapidly with a mere few words. Quickly, your already exhausted body weakened under him and he moved both of your wrists underneath one hand. 
Jackson lined up his length to your soaked entrance. “Gonna fill you up with my child. Show the world who you belong to. Most importantly, remind you every single fucking day who you belong to” he spoke menacefully. 
Jackson had been thinking of this for a while now. In his dreams, he saw himself in a suburban house, a child in the living room. With you, fulfilling all of his needs, taking care of your child, the house, but most importantly, him. It was time he took a break from the field, this way he’d be able to spend more time with you. 
Your throat was dry, eyes peeled open at his words as you weakly attempted to break out of his ironlike grip. There was no use in denying the pleasure filled feeling as Jackson slid his size back in. His thrusts rocked against your body as you whimpered underneath him.  
“Jackson, I don’t want to be fucking pregnant” you gasped as you felt his cock twitch inside of you. 
He gripped onto your chin and stared right into your soul. “Darling, do yourself a favor and leave the thinking to me” he sighed, his pace painfully picking up inside of you. “I’m just letting you do what you do best, taking my fucking cock” he grinned as you felt your eyes roll back to the feeling of him deep inside of you.
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anypassingthought · 4 months
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I think i can safely proclaim today as the day that did the singular most damage to my grades all semester
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writingcroissant · 4 months
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The Quiet Ones | Azriel x reader
Summary: After 500 years spent searching for her, Azriel randomly stumbles upon his mate one day in the marketplace.
A/N: I finally got around to writing this ask by the lovely @ang-taylorsversion and I hope you like it! I really love how the beginning turned out, though I’m worried the ending might feel a bit rushed. I’ll proofread tomorrow… maybe…
Word count: 3851
Warnings: Smut is very briefly/vaguely touched upon
-
Azriel kept mostly to the shadows of an alley as his eyes tracked the bustling marketplace before him in search of a gift Mor wouldn’t return within the first week of the new year. Granted, there was still plenty of time to find something, what with Solstice being a little over three months away, but if the last 500 years had taught him anything at all, it was to start his search sooner rather than later to avoid desperate last-minute purchases that would only end up forgotten at the bottom of one of her drawers.
Every year he came here, and every year he saw himself faced with the fact that it got increasingly difficult to buy something for a person he’d already spent some 500 Solstices with. But he came here anyway, and when he did, he endured the crowds, and he kept to himself, because however much he loved this city—its people had never truly warmed to him.
Which was exactly the reason he failed to suppress a flinch when, out of nowhere, a voice tore him from his thoughts.
“Hello there!”
His head whipped around, and Azriel shot a bewildered glance at the faerie woman that had randomly appeared at his side, somehow utterly escaping his notice. He couldn’t recall the last time someone had willingly addressed him in public, let alone got close enough to even spot him. He was the Night Court’s spymaster. Technically… he’d been laying low just now.
He blinked, and she must’ve noticed the flash of surprise that had flitted across his features before he’d been able to school his face back into the carefully neutral expression he’d already perfected as a child.
She smiled, and Azriel’s eyes tracked the way her lips stretched as she did so. The skin by her eyes crinkled with amusement, and Azriel followed her hairline to spot the graceful tip of a pointed ear. She was… very beautiful.
He cleared his throat at the thought.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you—oh!” her words gave way to a delighted little laugh, and Azriel watched in horror as she lifted her hand to reveal his shadows winding their way around her wrist, threading through delicate fingers to curl up her arm.
He took a step back, calling his shadows with him as he went. “Forgive me,” he said, a little breathless with surprise. He couldn’t deny the heat that crawled up the back of his neck in embarrassment. “They don’t usually do that.”
“That’s okay.” She chuckled when a remaining, shadowy tendril brushed along her cheek as though in a gentle caress. Azriel flicked his wrist, and it disappeared. “They’re sweet.”
He blinked.
Sweet.
“They don’t usually are,” he said, doing his best at maintaining a neutral tone in the face of this faerie that hadn’t shied away at the touch of his shadows and somehow still looked at him like he was the sole centre of her attention.
She gave another beaming smile, and Azriel cleared his throat again.
“I’ll consider myself lucky then,” she said, and the way she kept her eyes on him—the curious gleam as they moved across his face as though to memorise every detail—it seemed almost… intimate.
Azriel’s eyes darted down at a stray shadow winding its way towards her foot, and he huffed as he took yet another step back. What was up with his shadows today?
“You’re Azriel, right?” she asked, and when he lifted his eyes back to the strange faerie, he had to force himself to keep his cool beneath her attentive gaze. “The spymaster?”
He tilted his head, and she elaborated. “I just—I don’t suppose there are that many shadow-wielding Illyrians walking around Velaris.”
At her words, a thought entered Azriel’s mind, and his eyes darted around the marketplace in search of anyone watching this encounter. Perhaps this was a trap of some sort. A distraction.
Perhaps she was to throw him off guard for unknown foes to attack.
“I’m Y/N,” she went on, seemingly accepting that she wouldn’t be getting an answer to her question any time soon. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just spotted you from that booth over there, and the bond snapped, and so I thought I’d come over and introduce myself before you vanished.”
Azriel noted a few people looking their way, though most were brief glances in passing and none of them really looked like they were planning to attack anytime soo—
His head whipped back around.
“What?”
Her eyes tracked his reaction, and for the first time since she showed up, her smile shrank the smallest fraction, and a barely-there hint of uncertainty sneaked its way onto her face.
“I… didn’t mean to offend—”
“No,” he interrupted, taking half a step forward to bridge some of the distance he’d created earlier. “No, I mean… what did you just say?”
“Oh, the bond?” Her face returned to the chipper expression she’d been carrying since she spoke her first word to him. “Yeah, I felt it snap when I saw you. Nearly knocked me off my feet.”
Azriel stared at her. He tracked her features, more thorough this time, and he recognised her attentiveness for what it was—curiosity. She’d wanted to memorise the face of her mate, find out who it was she’d just been bonded to.
Azriel remained frozen where he stood, and as he lost his grip on his shadows, a few of them darted back to her skin; sliding against her neck, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She giggled, and suddenly her laugh shot right down Azriel’s spine.
Mate. He had a mate.
He’d waited 500 years. He’d loved, and he’d lost, and he could write the damn book on unrequited love, and through it all, he had spent hours and days and years wondering what his mate would be like. He’d had lovers, sure, though none of them had been the one, and as he’d gone through his centuries of life without a trace of the one whose soul was supposed to match his, he had begun to doubt he even had a mate.
He'd longed for this very moment countless of times, but as he frantically searched his brain for all the scenarios he’d dreamt up, and all the possible ways he’d pictured this moment to go, standing in front of her now, he found his tongue had been glued to the roof of his mouth.
She tilted her head as he stared at her, unblinking.
“Yeah, that was me about ten minutes ago.” The look in her eyes softened. “Would you like to go somewhere and talk?”
-
There was no person in the entirety of the Night Court that Cassian knew better than Azriel. They had known each other since they were kids, they’d grown up together, even fought together. He’d known him for some 500 years, which was time enough to notice when his brother behaved oddly.
Cassian watched closely as Azriel ate with his eyes trained on his plate. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about the Shadowsinger was… off. And it had been for a while now.
Only last week, Azriel had vanished right after sunrise when usually that was the time they began their first training of the day. He hadn’t returned until late afternoon and when he did, he’d seemed somehow… blurry. Like his mind was somewhere else, his head carried in the clouds.
As a matter of fact, he’d carried a similar expression as he did now.
“You’re being weird,” Cassian blurted through a mouthful of meat.
Azriel lifted his eyes without lifting his head, giving Cassian a look. When the latter just stared back without saying anything, Azriel raised a brow.
“Care to elaborate?”
“I don’t know.” Cassian shrugged. “You seem… different. And I can’t figure out what it is.”
Azriel hummed and returned to his food. “You’re imagining things.”
Cassian narrowed his eyes, never taking them from Azriel, even as he noted the way the shadowsinger’s shoulders stiffened beneath his stare.
Azriel cleared his throat and rose from where he’d sat facing Cassian, his meal not yet finished. “I have to go.”
“You’ve been gone a lot lately.” Cassian watched closely as Azriel made his way to the kitchen, unceremoniously dumping the remainder of his food in the trash and his dishes in the sink. “Where are you off to?”
A beat of silence passed before Azriel answered, and Cassian took it as a sign that his brother was calculating his answers more thorough than usual. “Town.”
“What are you doing in town?”
Azriel gave an exasperated sigh. “Aren’t I supposed to be the spymaster of this court?”
“I wouldn’t have to spy if you told me what was going on.” An unsettling thought entered Cassian’s mind as he stood to follow his brother to the door. “Are there problems in Velaris that I don’t know of?”
“No, brother,” Azriel slapped his hand on Cassian’s shoulder. “Everything’s perfect in Velaris. Do not worry.”
It was only when he turned to leave that something in the air shifted, and Cassian’s nostrils flared before his face fell and he locked a stare on his brother that had Azriel stop in his tracks.
“Cauldron boil me,” Cassian muttered, unblinking as he stared at Azriel with wide eyes. “How could you not tell me?”
All of a sudden, and while Azriel remained utterly silent, a third voice appeared behind Cassian.
“Not tell you what?” Rhysand asked as he strolled into the room, a curious note in his tone and hands buried in the pockets of his sweatpants.
The look in Azriel’s eyes sharpened ever so slightly, but Cassian uttered the words before the spymaster could do anything to stop him.
“Azriel has found his mate.” 
-
Azriel had never been on an actual date before, which was… shocking, considering he’d been alive for five whole centuries.
Most of his past conquests had been in-the-moment flings; brief flames that burned out as quickly as they’d started. Some had sprung from loose friendships, most from strangers, and some had originated from just the usual proximity that had come with the war camp barracks.
He’d never actually… dated before.
The past weeks had gone by in a heartbeat. Days spent with this beautiful stranger who’d sought him out at the market, and hours passing as though the world lay in a blur and she was the sole point of his focus. He’d found out things about her—trivial things, one might say, though to him each little detail she laid bare felt like it contributed to the very air he breathed.
When she laughed, he felt his toes tingle, and whenever she touched him, however small the touch might have been, his heart picked up its pace.
He’d never been on a first date before, let alone a second, a third, a fourth. And he was glad he hadn’t, because all those past lovers, no matter how lovely, or kind, or beautiful they might have been, would ever have compared to the way he felt whenever she opened the door to meet him with bright eyes.
“Why, hello there, handsome stranger,” she grinned, tilting her head in the way she always did when she waited to see how he’d react to her words.
Azriel gave a smile and stepped into the apartment he’d gotten to know well in the course of the last few weeks.
He’d barely turned around when she closed the door and looped her arms around his neck, standing on the very tips of her toes. Azriel loved this part.
He bent down to catch her lips with his and gave a sigh as though stepping into the warm water of a bath. He could feel her smile into the kiss, and it was one of his many favourite things about her. Each one of their kisses so far had been laced with a smile, and he never seemed to get enough of it.
When she pulled back, Azriel felt his own smile grow.
“You’re late,” she hummed, running her fingers through the hair on the back of his head while her eyes flitted across his face only to rest on his lips for a few seconds longer.
Azriel tightened the arms he kept slung around her waist, pulling her close enough for her breath to hitch.
He felt the incredible urge to close his eyes when her nails began to gently scratch his scalp, and a part of him never wanted to leave here again. She was everything he’d dreamt of for all those years, everything and so much more.
“Cassian has been getting on my nerves again,” he mumbled, turning his head to the side to breath a kiss to the soft skin of her arm.
Ever since the mating bond had snapped for Azriel too, and his brother had found out about it only days later, Cassian had come to adopt all the features of a textbook pain in the ass.
She chuckled. “He really is nosy. I can’t wait to meet him.”
Now Azriel was the one to tilt his head. “You want to meet them?”
“Well, of course,” she seemed amused by his surprise. “They’re your family. Were you not going to introduce me sooner or later?”
“I’d… love to,” Azriel said, and meant it.
“But?”
He hesitated, gently lowering her arms from his shoulders to wrap his fingers around her wrists and hold her hands to his chest. There once again lay that spark of curiosity in her eyes—open, and kind, and interested in every word he’d say.
“Well,” he started. “I’d want you to be… sure first.” She blinked, waiting for him to continue, and Azriel exhaled through his nose. “Of this… of us.”
She stared at him for a while, and Azriel half expected her to laugh, but the smile she finally gave was soft.
“You think I’m not certain yet?”
Azriel held her gaze. “It’s a big commitment, and I’m—”
“You’re my mate,” she said, her tone final. “And even if you weren’t my mate, I’d be sure of it. I’d be so sure of it, Azriel, because I love you.”
Azriel felt each of his muscles freeze, his lungs coming to a sudden stop as he stared at her—at this woman, this faerie that had entered his life like a summer storm.
“You—”
“I love you,” she said, her eyes alight with amusement. “Honestly, I thought it was obvious by now. You’re very easy to love, Azriel.”
Never in his 500 years had anyone ever said something like that to him.
He still hadn’t moved when she cleared her throat and gently took her hands from where he held them against his chest. Instead, she took his arm and signalled him with a nudge to turn around.
“I planned this much smoother,” she chuckled as he lay eyes on her tiny kitchen table. “But be that as it may. I made it for you.”
Azriel’s eyes fixed on the plate loaded with food, and his mind emptied.
“I planned to bake those tarts you liked when I dragged you to my friend’s bakery, but as it turns out, I suck at baking.”
Azriel swallowed thickly, not taking his eyes of the set table. A single candle burned in its centre.
When he spoke, his voice was low. “You’re aware of—”
“Aware of the fact that this will mean I’m accepting the bond?” She lifted her hand to his cheek to gently turn his head to the side so that she could look at him. The pad of her thumb ran a soft line along his cheekbone. “Very much so.”
Azriel didn’t know what to say. He was so overcome with emotion that all he could do was stare at the woman he’d come to love within the few short weeks he’d known her.
She studied his expression when he remained silent. “I want you to know that it’s okay if you’re not ready yet. We can postpone, maybe slow do—”
“I love you.” Azriel rasped, fingers once again wrapping around the wrist of the hand she held against his cheek. “I don’t ever want to be parted from you. You, accepting me as your mate… it is the biggest honour of my life.”
The smile took over her face now, and the kiss they shared felt like the start of a life even better than the one Azriel had dared to hope for.
When he sat to eat, she kept her eyes on him, and when he was finished, he felt the glow in her chest mirror his own.
All of a sudden, heat began to surge through his veins, and he gripped the edge of the table to steady himself as he stood.
So, this was what it felt like. Being overcome with desire for the one his soul called out to, the one he was now bonded to for the rest of his existence. Every inch of his skin longed to touch her even more than it had earlier. What had been a mere wish before now was a need—one he saw reflected in her eyes as she rounded the table to meet him in a kiss that set fire to every fibre of his being.
His hands rose to hold her head as she began to tear at his leathers, and Azriel felt that he was sinking deeper into this love he’d harboured for weeks now. He kissed her harder and walked her backwards until her back hit the wall. His hands slipped to mimic hers and tear at the fabric of her clothes.
They hadn’t yet lain with each other, and suddenly Azriel wondered how he hadn’t yet lost his mind with want. He was cautious of every emotion flickering across the bond, attentive when he knelt before her, gentle when he lifted her thighs to his hips, and rough when she needed him to be.
She took over his senses when she dug her nails into his shoulders, when her breath came in choked pants, when he buried himself inside of her over and over again, delighting in the intensity that came with a bond set aflame.
He’d never get enough of her; he was sure of it. And when his name passed her lips in a gasp against the wall, and on the table, and on the couch; and when he loved her with everything that he had all the way to the first sunbeams of the day, he felt her light at the other end of that bond, assuring him that she wouldn’t either.
-
Cassian hadn’t seen Azriel in weeks, and even though Rhys kept assuring him that their brother checked in with him on a regular basis, Cass began to worry. Perhaps he’d badgered Az too much about that mysterious mate of his.
“Cassian,” Rhys sighed from the other end of the breakfast table. “Stop brooding. I assure you, he’s fine.” He exchanged a look with Feyre, who sat next to him, cutting an omelette. She smirked.
“You know something.” Cassian straightened. “Tell me.”
Rhys cleared his throat, but it was Feyre who answered. “Let’s just say that Azriel has probably never been better.”
Cassian huffed at their shared amusement.
It was then that heavy steps rang through the townhouse and Azriel himself appeared in the kitchen door, his shadows nowhere to be seen.
Cassian turned in his chair to face his brother fully. “Where the hell have you—”
“Hello everyone,” an unfamiliar voice suddenly spoke, and a pretty fae woman squeezed past Azriel to stumble into the kitchen, beaming at them all. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. Azriel has told me so much about you!”
She seemed like a chipper little thing, and Cassian’s mouth snapped shut as he noticed the shadows twirling around her arms. So that’s where they’d gone.
Azriel cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Cassian,” he said. “Rhys, Feyre. This is Y/N.” He turned to look at the woman standing beside him, and his gaze softened the way Cassian had never seen before. “My mate.”
Silence fell over the kitchen as the word passed his lips, though Feyre was the first to snap out of it, rising from her seat to bridge the distance and throw her arms around the newest addition to their little circle.
“It’s so nice to meet you,” she said. “Azriel has told us absolutely nothing about you!”
Y/N laughed as she returned the High Lady’s hug, and Cassian watched her throw Azriel a wink over her shoulder.
“Well as pretty as he is, I’ve found that he’s not much of a talker.”
Cassian couldn’t believe his eyes when Azriel—his shadow-wielding, spymaster, has-fought-in-multiple-wars brother—blushed. He could hear Rhys snicker, and a shit-eating grin split Cassian’s face in two.
Rhys rose from his seat now, too, and when he came to face his brother’s mate, she lay her head back to look up at him. He bowed his head. “A pleasure meeting you, Y/N. We’re overjoyed to welcome you into our family.”
“The pleasure’s all mine,” she grinned. “My, my, Azriel, you have such well-mannered friends.”
The spymaster grumbled deep in his chest. “Give them a minute.”
She chuckled and turned to face the third one.
“You must be Cassian, then.” She tilted her head, a mischievous spark in her eyes. “I heard you’re quite the gossip.”
Cassian’s mouth flew open in outrage. “Am not!”
“Oh please,” Feyre laughed. “You’re the worst gossip I know.”
He huffed when his friends shared amused looks and rose from his seat to inspect this strange faerie with narrowed eyes.
“So,” he started, crossing his arms over his chest. “You live in Velaris, then?”
She gave a single, enthusiastic nod and crossed her arms behind her back as she straightened her shoulders and bounced on the balls of her feet. “Born and raised.”
“Got any dark secrets we should know about?”
“Well… I once stole a banana from my best friend’s lunchbox.”
Feyre snorted.
“Any bloodthirsty exes?”
“All ranging from harmless to mildly annoying.”
“Still hung up on one of them?”
“Nope.”
“How’d you and Az meet?”
“At the market.”
“Accepted the bond yet?”
“Are you kidding?” she all but gasped and inclined her head towards where Azriel stood with his back as straight as a pole. “Have you seen this tall drink of water? How could I not?”
Rhys snorted, Feyre giggled, and when Cassian looked at Azriel with a shit-eating grin edged into his features, he delighted in the look on the spymaster’s face.
Azriel blinked, speechless. There was once again a distinct tinge of red crawling up from beneath the collar of his leathers, and Cassian might have squealed with excitement.
When he turned back to this woman that had apparently cracked the solid exterior of his shadow-wielding brother, he failed to wipe the grin off his face.
“I think I like her.”
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lovifie · 1 month
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Simon Riley whose favourite hair was always yours.
The first time he touched your hair, you were both deployed. You were walking before him, your hair in a braid behind your head that was almost hypnotizing. You stick your head from behind a wall, and Simon pulls your braid the moment he hears gunshots to keep you away from the fire line. A whine escapes your lips that sounds almost like a kicked dog and you quickly look back to him. "Thank you, Lt." You mutter.
And in that moment, with your hair still in his hand, he knew he was in trouble.
Your hair doesn't glow in the dark, yet it always draws his attention. Like a lifesaver floating in an ocean. He quickly learns that he can't wait to touch it again, so he observes and waits for a chance to do so.
Like when you were rewriting a report on the mess hall, Price told you it was illegible and taking in consideration Price's handwriting you took it to heart. So there you were, writing again the pages with your best handwriting.
A lock of hair in the middle of your face had Simon almost sprinting to you to move it out of your face before you could it yourself. Of course he didn't say anything romantic, instead he said: "You are gonna go blind like that, and you are supposed to watch my back out there."
It wasn't romantic on its own, but his hand remained caressing the hair now behind your ear and when you looked up to meet his gaze, the both of you pulled away from each other as if you had been hit. "That line is dropping, start it again." He comments. "Yes, Lt."
On another occasion, you got late to practice, overslept. Obviously by your bed hair, not even time to brush it. Price quickly told you to fix it and Simon seriously considered if the insubordination would be worth it, because he would rip both his arms off if he could wake up everyday with that sight.
It was at that point that Simon realized he was doomed, because he had not been slowly pulled to you, he fell face first and being honest to himself, he was happy with it. He wouldn't admit it yet, it was easier to believe he only liked your hair.
And as time went on, it became more and more easy to find excuses to touch it.
Like when you got sick that one time, waking in the middle of the night to empty your stomach on the toilet. And it went on until the morning, when he found you sitting on the bathroom floor, too weak to walk back to your room.
Face wet with tears for not being able to stop throwing up, for being tired and for feeling useless. He quickly crouched down, paper towel in hand to clean your face. "Why are you here?" He softly asked, mask hiding his expression but his eyes gave away his emotions.
"I got sick." You mumbled, voice hoarse with the strain of the night.
"That I can tell, love." The nickname caught the both of you by surprise, but neither complained. "Let's get you to bed."
You nod, grabbing his hand to stand up, before another round of nausea hit forcing you to back down to throw up again. He quickly moved your hair out of the way grabbing it at the back of your head. "You are gonna get sick, Ghost. Leave me alone, I'm fine."
"Number one, I'm pretty sure your dinner from last night it's on my hand, so I believe we are past nicknames now." He says, being interrupted before being able to say the second thing.
"Don't touch my hair with puke on your hand!" You say grabbing his wrist, making him chuckle. You barely had energy to pull your head up and still tried to fight him.
"I would never, love. That's the other hand." He said looking as you wiped your mouth, breath getting knock out of him when you lock your gaze on his. "What is it?" You asked, confusing him. "Your name."
"Simon."
"Simon?"
"Simon Riley."
A beat of silence simmered on the bathroom for a second.
"That's a surprisingly sweet name, Simon."
And if the world had ended at that moment, Simon would have died a happy man.
But he didn't, instead he eased his way into your heart.
It wasn't hard, and soon enough Simon didn't need excuses to touch your hair. And touching your hair was the excuse to get you closer to him.
Like when he was dying to kiss your lips, but you wouldn't look up to him. Why wouldn't you look at him? Couldn't you tell it was killing him? So he fisted your hair, pulling back slightly; enough to make you look up but not enough to sting. And when his eyes met yours, he dived right into your lips. Moving his hands to cup your face instead of hair, needing to feel the warmth of your skin. The kiss pulling the air from his lung but still making him feel more alive than ever.
Or like when you finally had the time and intimacy to make love. And when he had you on his bed, knees apart and face buried on his pillow, he fisted your hair again, pulling your head back, because he needed to hear you moan his name while he filled you to the brim. Simon Riley was not a saint, but he would go through the hell his life has been again if it meant he got to experience this. Your cunt milking his dick, your smaller hand grabbing the wrist of his hand on your hip, your moans filling the room and when you looked back to him over your shoulder, his life got meaning and he kissed your lips.
Or like when you would cuddle, and he would do tiny braids on your hair he would forget to undo or tell you about and you would find out hours later when you would try to brush your hair and end up with massive knots. Walking to him ready to throw the brush at his head and you would find him hugging your pillow on his sleep, completely relax and content with himself.
Or like when years later, he brushed the hair sticking to your forehead by the sweat while you pushed his daughter to life. If he could take the pain away he would, but he knew you were the strongest woman in this world and could do it. He also knew you needed his comfort, so he moved his hand from your hair to grab your hand even if you crushed every bone inside.
Your hair was always his favourite, until your daughter was born. Because she had Simon's eyes, but she had your hair. And your hair was beautiful, but his little girl's hair was the proof of the love between Simon and you.
Simon Riley loved your hair, but he loved you more.
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Hii🩷
Accept this as an apology for the pain from Inmortal!Simon, hope that you guys like it ♥️♥️
Also I barely proof read it, so if there are any misspelled words, no there isn't ♥️🫡
If there is anything that you would like me to write my inbox is always open for request and asks ♥️
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forbidden-sunlight · 3 months
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yandere! literary agent with fem!reader scenario
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warnings: implication of obsessive thoughts or love.
There might be potential triggers in this story. If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant.
You are responsible for your Internet consumption!
Hey guys, welcome back to another yandere fic, introducing Yulian Prescott. I'd like to give a big shout-out to my dear friend @deathmetalunicorn1 for helping me write this and finding the perfect likeness for my character, especially when this idea came to me all of a sudden on a Sunday night when I should be sleeping instead of staying up an ungodly hour.
As always, bullying on here will not be tolerated. If it does happen, this scenario will be taken down. I'm not sure if this will be a series. At the moment, this is just a scenario.
With that being said, sit back, relax, and let's dive into the cutthroat world of publishing.
PART TWO
Yandere!Literary Agent is a man who prides himself on being very good at his job. He represented one of the best publishing houses in the country. Anything less than what he expected from his clients was unacceptable.  
If the manuscript arrived in his inbox exactly two minutes past the promised deadline, he would not look at it. If his client is acting like a stupid moron at a function or royally fucking up their reputation by posting something inappropriate on their social media account, he is not cleaning up their mess. He is not their babysitter. They are full-grown adults. And if one of them is not able to produce another book that will actually sell past the number of copies slated to be printed, he will let them go. Call him cruel if you want. Yandere!Literary Agent is simply being pragmatic. He wasn’t cheap. He only wants the best of the best.
So imagine Yandere!Literary Agent’s surprise when a particularly difficult client sent him a completed manuscript. He planned on writing her an email that after much deliberation, it was time for her to find another agent to represent her. The client, Abigail Crowley, had written an adult dark academia trilogy and a feminist retelling of the myth of Theseus, told from the perspective of his lover Adriane. The manuscripts following the conclusion of her last book, however, were complete shit. Her royalties were nearly gone, having squandered them on a penthouse in a high-end neighborhood, the latest clothes, and a wine fridge. You heard him. A fucking wine fridge when she could have replaced that shoddy laptop of hers with something better so she could keep writing books and not have it crap out on her. 
Half-amused and half-annoyed at this pathetic attempt to keep her contract with the publishing company from being null and void, Yandere!Literary Agent clicked on the attachment and read it. One page became four, then fifty. He had to force himself to stop when it was lunchtime and he was already at the mid-way point. 
This story, it was…good. No, it was more than good. It was absolutely fantastic. And Yandere!Literary Agent did not compliment his clients’ works very often, which meant he believed at this very moment, this manuscript will most definitely become Abigail’s comeback to the literary industry. Book sales would go through the roof, A Netflix deal was also possible. But the first hurdle he had to overcome was pitching the manuscript, and making sure the query letter was at least consistent with the story that Abigail was trying to sell to him.
And he’ll make it happen. He is very good at his job, after all. 
Once he had successfully pitched it with a bit of extra charm, he contacted Abigail. She was over the moon, promising to make any necessary edits to the manuscript and it will be sent to him on time. From there, time fast forwarded. ARC books were sent out, Abigail selected the cover designs for the regular and special editions, and a tentative book tour was scheduled. Seven cities, and one international trip, maybe another in the future. Sales for this book were projected to exceed expectations. Yandere!Literary Agent was very confident things would go smoothly from here. At least he had thought so.
A month before the book was to be published, his secretary knocked on his door and said he had a visitor. They insisted on seeing him. Yandere!Literary Agent raised his brow, rising from his desk and stepping out into the hall and saw you. 
In the beginning, he will begrudgingly confess that his first impression of you was someone who is painfully average and out of place. A backpack slung over your shoulder, dressed in navy blue medical scrubs and looking absolutely haggard. Your eyes, though, shined with anxiety and determination. You inclined your head. 
“I apologize for the sudden intrusion, I know you’re busy, but I have some concerns about the book that’s going to be released soon by Abigail Crowley.” 
Yandere! Literary Agent’s gaze sharpened.. “And what, pray tell, are your complaints?” He crossed his arms. “Are you one of the people who had signed up to be ARC reader and didn’t get their copy?” 
You raised an eyebrow. “...No?”
“Then why -”
“Because it is my novel that is being published. Without my consent.” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Look, I know it is hard to believe, I get it.” You then swung your backpack around to your front, unzipping the larger compartment. You pulled out a large notebook, some papers, and a flash drive. You held them out to him. “But I think what I have here might convince you to allow me ten minutes, if not five, to hear me out. That’s all I’m asking. This isn’t about money, this isn’t about suing your company. I just want my story back. I’ve already tried talking to Abigail about it, and she isn’t picking up my calls. Please.” You said. “Three minutes.” 
His schedule was clear until the two o’clock meeting with another client on the other side of town. That was about an hour and half from now, as he had just come back from lunch. He supposed he could give you three minutes. Rolling his eyes, Yandere!Literary Editor swiveled on his heel. 
“Let’s see what you have. Melissa, please hold my calls until I’m done.” His diligent secretary nodded and went back to her desk. You followed him like a lost little duckling back to his office. Once the door was closed, you handed him everything. 
Yandere!Literary Editor went over the materials carefully, flipping through the pages of the notebook. The outlines and character designs were here, all written in excruciating detail and in such tiny print. He asked you random questions, going off of his memory from the manuscript and these notes. You answered him without hesitation.
“Yes, that’s correct. What? No, absolutely not. I would never have those characters be romantically paired up! Their relationship is too toxic, and wouldn’t set a good example to the target audience. I’m sorry, what? No, that isn’t her name! It’s Cristabel, not Anastasia! She’s supposed to be assisting the Night Emperor with collecting intelligence via the gossip of salons under her alias, not swooning over his brother when he’s already happily married to his wife! Good God, no. That scene should not even be there! That’s filler content and makes the character growth of the protagonist seem like the pay-off wasn’t worth it, or that he didn’t learn anything at all since the beginning of the book!” 
Yandere!Literary Agent grounded the molars of his back teeth, inhaling slow, deep breaths through his nostrils. Keeping his emotions in check is one of the reasons why he has survived in the publishing industry for this long, and he’s such a successful man. 
But hearing you speak about the characters, perfectly recalling the manuscript’s themes and looking back at the notebook in his hand, seeing the colorful  sticky notes with edits and improvised scenes written on them…he couldn’t deny it any further. You were the real author of the book he’s representing, and Abigail Crowley played him like a goddamned fiddle.
 If this wasn’t enough damning evidence of his client’s plagiarism, you had shown him an original illustration of the world you had created. It was done by an artist you had commissioned on Etsy, with proof of purchase for their services and a timestamp. Three years ago. That was when Abigail’s last best-selling book hit the shelves, and when her creative well began to dry out. 
You must have caught on to his irritation, because you told him that you weren’t here to intentionally stir up any trouble. A coworker had told you about Abigail’s newest book coming out, and the premise was exactly yours, at least what was advertised in the BookTok and Youtube trailers online. You’ve been searching high and low for your manuscript, and the only other person who has been in your apartment and knew about your creative endeavors has been Abigail. She wasn’t really your friend, per say. You took some of the same creative writing courses. You eventually found another career to pursue, and you kept writing as a hobby. She went on to become a professional author and never missed an opportunity to show off her success whenever she invited you out for drinks at an upscale bar or went to fancy dinners. 
Why would Abigail steal the book you’ve been working on for three years when you work a full-time day job, you had no idea. She’s living the dream that she’s always wanted, defying her mother’s wishes to get a normal job because writing is everything to her, and she would never give up on it. But if you were to be hypothetical, it might be another attempt to somehow get one up on her self-proclaimed rival, Cindy Chen, who is an even bigger success than her. 
You then rubbed your eyes. “Sorry, it’s been a long day.” You murmured, standing up from your seat. “Keep the notebook, the maps, whatever you want. If you could return them to me when you’re done, that’s all I ask. And an apology from Abigail, if you’re able to get one out of her. Like I said, this isn’t about money, royalties, or fame. I just want my story back.” 
Yandere!Literary Agent immediately stood up, his eyes slightly widened in fear. “Wait, please, just a moment! I know you’re tired, you want to go home…but I need to set things right. If I had known that this manuscript, your story, had been stolen, I would have never spearheaded its  publication.” And he wouldn’t have. Not only would it affect his reputation, but the company’s too. Stocks would plummet, and there would be a feeding frenzy on social media with #abigailcrowley, #plagiarism, #sailboatpublishinghouse. 
When you looked at him, his heart lurched uncomfortably at seeing your lips fall into a crestfallen expression. You looked so tired, so done with everything, and oh god you looked like you were about to cry shit. Walking around his desk, Yandere!Literary Agent eased you to sit back down and quickly prepared an espresso, possessing a machine to make it in his office so he did not have to walk down five flights to the break room. 
You thanked him for the drink and took a sip, wrinkling your nose slightly, no doubt surprised at the taste. You must not be a regular espresso drinker, or prefer how you made it. Either way, he was grateful that you did not bolt out of the office. Picking up his office phone, he dialed Melissa’s number. 
“Call all of the heads, including the marketing and social media departments. This is an emergency meeting. Now!” Bless Melissa, she did not ask him questions and said she would get on it immediately, hanging up on him. The next person he called was Abigail fucking Crowley. He sweet-talked her into coming to the office, apologizing for interrupting her ‘creativity time’ and promised it won’t take long. She swore to be there in a half an hour, so long as traffic didn’t back up. Yandere!Literary Agent played the understanding card and hung up, his smile being replaced with a smirk. Hook, line, and sinker. He scoffed. He then turned to you. 
“Everything will be resolved soon.” He promised. 
“Sir -” You began. 
“Yulian, please.” 
“Mister Yulian, I understand that you want to make things right, but…can you really get Abigail to talk? She blocked my calls, and the book is hitting the shelves in a month, maybe less than that? How are you going to recover the money that has gone into getting it published, the fees for the printing companies, and the marketing? Correct me if I’m wrong, I’m not too familiar with how publishing works these days.” 
You weren’t wrong, at least in the aspect that the company has put a significant amount of money into the publication of the stolen manuscript, your work, he added mentally. It was too late to stop the printing, and the final draft would need a significant amount of changes. Unless…
“Abigail is a plagiarist, and you are the rightful creator. The way I see it, we can salvage the financial loss by putting your name on the cover, and fixing the glaring omissions as well as other scenes you claim shouldn’t even be there.” He sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Of course, we would need to have a press conference and explain why we are changing authors, and what she has done. Considering the timetable and coordinating with the printing companies, it will be cutting it close.” 
You stared at him silently for a long moment before placing the espresso cup back onto the tiny saucer with a soft clink, releasing a heavy sigh. “If I agree to do this, to help with the edits, probably fuck up my sleeping pattern and might potentially be fired from my job unless I can use some of my PTO, what will I get in return?” 
He smiled. “Abigail will be the one to pay for publishing and marketing fees. I can extend the deadline for the revisions by a week. And you will be paid for your time, of course. There will be no need to come here to drop off revisions either. All correspondence will be through email. As an agent, I am qualified to be your representative during press conferences, so you will not have to be present. All I would ask of you is to turn in the final manuscript on time and not say anything on social media until our legal team is fully prepared.”
“No need to worry about Twitter or Facebook. Haven’t logged  on to my account in years.” You raised the espresso cup to your lips. “Too much politics.” You tilted your head to the side, a puzzled frown stretching across your face. “Any chance I could get all of this in writing? I might need to get a lawyer if Abigail tries to take it to court and sue me for defamation.” 
Yandere!Literary Agent nodded. He opened up a blank document and immediately typed up the contract, including everything that you have discussed and a few other variables. Once he finished, he printed it out, handing it to you. You read through the contents carefully before handing it back to him.
“It looks good - it’s all here and I’m agreeable to the terms.” You said.
Humming under his breath, Yandere! Literary Agent signed the bottom. You signed your name next to his, with today’s date and the time. 
He ignored the tiny tingle that crawled up his spine when your fingertips brushed against his as you gave him back the pen. You agreed to stay until the matter with Abigail was over, and he would email you the manuscript so you could go through everything when you get home. 
As it turned out, you did not have to wait much longer for the best-selling author to make her entrance at Board Room 3. Exchanging numbers with Yandere! Literary Agent you would wait in the adjacent room until he sent you a text to make your entrance. Melissa escorted you to said room when he received a message from Abigail that she would be here in ten minutes. 
It’s time. That was the message he sent you. When you opened the door, revealing yourself to the staff and the flustered Abigail…she snapped. 
She rambled how she needed a book, just one more successful book, and she would be set for life. She wouldn’t lose her penthouse, she would still be considered a worthy rival to Cindy Chen, and above all else, she could still write as she had always wanted to do since she was a teenager. You already had a normal job, you had a steady income, you weren’t even a writer. Being a hobbyist writer did not count. Yes, she took your manuscript, but it wasn’t a big deal! You could just write another book when you had time between shifts at the hospital, right? 
The look you gave her…it was resignation. Hopelessness. Disappointment. 
“Abbie…it wasn’t just a story I wrote. You should know that. Writing is so much more than that. I’ve tried to be nice, to talk to you but you wouldn’t listen. I’m sorry it’s come to this, I really am.” You said. That was the last thing you said before you were escorted outside of the door. Seeing your part in this is over, Yandere! Literary Agent took control of the room. 
“Whether it is a hobby or professional writing, it doesn’t change the fact that you stole someone’s work and tried to pass it off as your own.” He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You are a thief, nothing more and nothing less.” Then the lawyers approached Abigail, presenting her with the fees she will need to pay. If there was an issue, going to court would not be an issue as he had all of the evidence needed to ruin the once best-selling writer Abigail Crowley. 
Her reaction was….amusing. 
After security had escorted the screaming woman off of the premises, Yandere!Literary Agent went to search for you, thinking you had gone back to his office to wait for him. You weren’t there. Melissa said you did stop by her desk, only to leave a message on a sticky note that you needed to go home but promised to get the revisions done as fast as you could, and thanks for the espresso it was really good. 
Yandere!Literary Agent smiled softly at the hastily written chicken scratch, pocketing it in his trousers before going back inside his office. You weren’t like any of his other clients. And he would like to get to know a bit more. Who knows? Perhaps….he could persuade you to sign a contract with him, be your agent. You shouldn’t hide your talents from the world. There were people who would love to read your stories, and he had no doubt that the company would benefit from it too. 
But there was no need to rush. There was a month until the book was to be released. That was more than enough time for him to work his magic. He is good at his job, after all. 
Taglist
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©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2024
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murdrdocs · 10 months
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just read all your imagines and they are so good!! just on here to req anything hobie brown related cos god that man is so fine. maybe like a one-shot where they are fwb cos hobie doest do labels but gets jealous and then asks reader to be his gf and then shows her off to everyone. just like really anything u want to write tbh ✨✨
end of line | h. brown
description. being friends with benefits with your best friend, hobie brown, is fun and all, but you start to realize that maybe firm labels suit you better than whatever this is
includes. slight smut SUGGESTIVE 16+, fem!reader referred to as “girl”, fluff, sweet!hobie, pav gwen and miles mention, rockstar!hobie
a/n: i have no words this was supposed to be uploaded like a week ago but then i went to disney so ... sorry yall. also not edited well bc ... disney. edit: title from the song by daft punk bc tron <3
word count: 1.7k+
things are still in your bedroom. they always are right before he arrives.
you're not a psychic, nor do you have a "spider-sense" (which, with the creepy-sixth sense way hobie described it, you don't want one either), but you like to think that you can tell when he'll come by.
nights when you haven't heard much from him, but the sirens seemed to never stop outside, were usually when your window would creek as it slid up.
you listen out for the sound now as you finish painting your last nail. you'd used the quick dry polish tonight, in hopes that you wouldn't have a repeat of last time, when your fingernails weren't dried but hobie was incredibly impatient and when you were done, you'd realized that your right ring and pinkie fingers were smudged.
the bottle's closed, you'd blown on your nail to ensure it dried, and that's when your window slides open.
there's no point in looking back at him when he tumbles into the room. he starts mumbling complaints as soon as the window's closed, the sound of his shoes unlacing padding his words, something about some common thief who hobie was going to let go but then he went and messed with the lady on the street and her cat.
you'd lost the tail end of his words whenever he started walking closer to you. you sat up straighter, pushed everything out of the way, and waited for him to turn your chair around.
which, when he did, you looked up at him, small smile on your lips as you stared into his deep brown eyes.
"how's your night, hm?" he asked, a courtesy before getting to the real action.
you shrugged, pretending to think. "nothing. just a lot of this."
"no smashing societal standards? picking off misogynists one by one?"
a small laugh in the form of a snort from you. "nah. figured i'd take a day off, you know?" the sarcasm dripping from your words. that's not who you were. you wish you could've been like that, could've been like hobie. but there's one spider-person for a reason.
"oh, yeah, uh-huh..." and hobie trailed off as he leaned in, pointer finger hooking under your chin to pull your lips to his.
it always felt good to kiss hobie.
you'd fantasized about it for weeks before it actually happened. he's your closest friend at the moment, and he occupied the title before this arrangement even existed. and of course you had the worry about ruining your beautiful friendship if you became more, fear that you wouldn't be able to go back and you would subsequently lose probably the best friend you've ever had.
but that was no need to worry. because while you could let hobie pull you up and lead you to your bed, sitting back and pulling you into his lap while he kissed you with a tenderness you know so well, you could also just be friends with him, sitting side by side on the couch and having a movie marathon of horrible biopics without thinking about jumping each other's bones.
there's a balance here that you could only hope would've existed.
and it's never thrown off. not even when he pulls your shirt over your head and his full lips find your nipples and the slightly-faded marks he'd left a few days ago. not even when he switches your position, laying you back and kissing down your torso until he can bury his head between your legs. not even when you whine and cry just a bit, slightly begging for him to pull his suit off so he can fuck into you in a way that only he can.
you try not to think about the equilibrium of your relationship with hobie when your legs hook around his waist and the heels of your feet dig into your lower back. you try to solely focus on the way his cock fills you up perfectly, mostly long with the right amount of girth for your walls, tip reaching deep within you in an almost mind bending way.
but you can't help but think about the way hobie doesn't do labels when he helps you to your bathroom, where he lets the shower heat up while you sit in a shirt he left behind a few days ago when he'd shown up as just hobie brown and not spiderman. you can't help but think about being hobie's girlfriend when his big, veiny hands run along your skin after the shower, smothering you in shea butter as you struggle to hold your eyes open. and you don't bother attempting to fight off the lasting thought of being hobie's while he hums an unknown song to himself with your head on his chest, the deep sound of his voice and the vibration of his chest lulling you to sleep.
you need to be someone's.
the friends with benefits scenario was fun, it worked, it was glorious, but you don't think it's for you. and labels aren't for hobie.
so, you look elsewhere.
you're at hobie's show, standing in the back of the pub with a drink you weren't interested in, with some guy you really weren't all that interested in, either. but he smelled nice, and he seemed nice, and you were just looking to broaden your horizons just a bit.
you and hobie weren't exclusive, but maybe it's a little wrong to flirt with someone else at his show. but you were slightly upset, and craving attention, so it didn't matter.
not until hobie got off stage.
it took a while for him to roam over to you, but even then you were still entertaining the other guy. giggling, tilting your head, batting your eyelashes, your hip popped out and a manicure, that was still fresh, blinging as your hand rested on the bone.
he greets you with a term of endearment that he uses often, but it feels different in this circumstance. you tell yourself that it feels different because you want it to feel different.
"oi, babe! who's this bloke?"
his arm slings over your shoulder and you tense under it. your hands folding over your chest, your smile tightening a little.
“uh this is steven.” your hand reaches out to point to the man, a tight lipped smile spreading onto his lips.
“steven …” hobie repeats the name slowly, and without looking at him you can tell that he’s eyeing the guy up and down.
the air is stiff, the three of you are silent, and unfortunately, steven takes the hint to dismiss himself, and you instantly turn to hobie, a scowl on your face.
“what the fuck, hobes?” you’re pissed, but the nickname still slips off easily.
hobie shrugs and reaches into his back pocket, a cigarette appearing and he sticks it between his lips. instantly, your fingers pluck it out from his mouth, instead putting it in your own back pocket.
instead of looking upset, hobie looks amused. his hands reach out to grab your waist, and you want to give in, but you try to push his hands away instead.
hobie lets you, and you don’t know if your happy or upset with that.
“what’d you mean?”
you stare at him, deadpan, then gesture to where steven had walked away towards.
“you just cockblocked me!”
a cocky grin, almost a little condescending. “i didn’t ‘cockblock’ you, babes. you weren’t trying to get with that guy.” your eyebrow lifts and you can see realization come onto hobie’s face. “oh … you were?”
“yes! of course i was!”
“but why? you are i are together.”
“sure, hobes, but we’re not ‘together’.”
“yes we are.”
“no, we aren’t.”
“why do you think that?”
you suddenly feel a little insecure, eyes scanning the thinning crowd, ears noticing the way the volume in the pub is lowered. “because you’ve never put a label on it, bee.”
another layer of realization. hobie’s hands coming to your waist again, but this time you let him pull you in.
“i didn’t know we needed a label. but you’re my girl. and i’m your guy.”
your body heats up and you bite down onto your lower lip giddily, peeking up at hobie through your lashes.
"thought you didn't like relationships?"
"labels. i don't like labels."
there's a disruption in the atmosphere. goosebumps raise on your skin, the hair on the back of your neck sticks up, and even if you weren't aware internally, the way the magazine you were previously reading floats above the table would've tipped you off.
the portal opens shortly after, but you knew it was coming. it took hobie a while to tell you that he was spiderman, longer to convince you that he was spiderman, and a while longer to convince you of the existence society, and even though you know, you still get a little shocked whenever a portal opens.
he comes through first, thud of his heavy boots against the floor of his flat. the spoon in your mouth clings against the side of the bowl, your free hand reaches out to the tv remote to pause the episode as you look over at hobie.
"oi, didn't know you were still here." is all he says before he's walking over, pulling his mask off on the way, and leaning down. your head tilts up instantly to meet his lips in a kiss, your body warming with the way his hand pushes into the back of the couch, slender but muscular form caging you in.
you expect him to sit beside you and force you to give a recap of the episode, but he stands back, and then three other people come through the portal.
"oh ... are we expecting guests?" surprise sits in your words, the tone amplified when hobie takes your bowl of cereal out of your hands to finish it off himself.
"right," he speaks through mouthfuls, saying your name as an introduction to the other three. "this is pav, miles, and gwendy. spider people." you nod, waving at each.
"this here, is my girlfriend." three sets of spider-eyes widen with the admission and you can already sense what's coming.
"wow, you're pretty. 's nice to meet you."
"i knew it! i could sense the tension as soon as we got here."
"you have a girlfriend? wait. i thought you didn't like labels."
a small smile on your face as you tuck your hands in the pocket of hobie’s sweatshirt that you wear.
in coordination learned from how close you two are, you speak at the same time.
"he doesn't like consistency."
"don't like consistency, mate."
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slutforleeminho · 3 months
Note
heyy, i love your work, i was wondering if you could write a fic based on the song ‘the other woman’ by lana del rey where the reader is the other woman. you could do it about any member :)
this is my first ever request since i’ve been on this app so i hope i did it right 😭
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The other Woman • Hwang Hyunjin
thank you so much! i’m so happy that your first ask was on my acc! i hope you like it<3
warnings: suggestive(no explicit smut), arguing, infidelity, toxic relationship, plot twist at the end;)
"I have to go, beautiful." Hyunjin leaned down to kiss your forehead after pulling his pants up and buttoning them. He placed his hand on the side of your face, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb. "She'll get suspicious if I stay any longer."
This was normal for you, yours and Hyunjin's little routine. He'd take you out to dinner and treat you like a princess, paying for your meals and anything else you could possibly want. Holding your hand and taking you places you've only dreamed of going, then he'd take you home --your home-- and he'd fuck you like there was no tomorrow. And then he'd leave to do the same things with his wife.
You never understood why he pursued you the way he did when he had someone at home to take care of, but you didn't care enough to bring it up. Why would you? You have everything a young woman could ever want; a young, handsome, rich man who gives you anything you want. But only a few times a week. It's okay though, that just gives you plenty of time to do things that you enjoy like reading and going to museums and admiring the beautiful pieces of art that you wished you could just shove in your bag and take home with you.
"Okay," You said with a tired smile. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Actually, I meant to tell you, I won't be able to come over tomorrow. Apparently, Violet has a family reunion, and she wants me to accompany her." He stated as he pulled his shirt over his head and grabbed his bag from the chair in the corner of your room.
Violet. Such a pretty name for such a lucky woman.
"Oh." Was all you replied with.
"Are you mad at me?"
"No, of course not, these things happen," You knew exactly what you were getting yourself into as soon as you entered this relationship, if it can even be called that. "Just text me when you can. let me know when you want to meet up."
"Of course." He smiled.
He kissed you deeply before he left that night, almost making you forget that he had someone at home waiting for him, and you would be left here, cold and alone.
That text that he promised didnt come until a week later.
"I miss the way you feel wrapped around me." Was all that the message contained. You liked to imagine he was talking about your warm embrace, but you knew that wasn't true. He just wanted to feel an unfamiliar body underneath his.
You weren't sure how you ended up like this. When you first met Hyunjin he was sweet and caring, attentively listened to you while you complained about your bad day at work and massaged away all the soreness in your muscles. You can't remember the last time he's taken you out to dinner or bought you flowers. Now you were just his escape from his nagging wife.
You put up with the constant shame and guilt you felt for being with someone who already had their someone, because you thought that maybe his love for you would grow and that maybe someday Hyunjin would realize that you're the one he wants to spend every waking moment with and not someone else. But as your love for him grew your patience shrunk until one day you snapped.
Hyunjin was collecting his things after he had finished what he came here for, which was to get his dick wet and nothing more. "I won't see you again after tonight."
Hyunjin stopped in his tracks and stared at you with wide eyes. "What do you mean by that?"
"I mean I deserve more than this. I deserve to have someone's full attention and all of their heart." You held yourself together, determined not to cry Infront of him. He doesn't deserve your tears.
"Baby, what are you even talking about?" He knelt down in front of you and placed his hand on your shaking knees. "Of course, I love you."
"No, you don't," You shook your head. "You love my body, you love having someone at your disposal, someone you can use only for your own pleasure. If you loved me even in the slightest there wouldn't be another woman getting the treatment that I crave so fucking much." All the emotion you've kept stuffed away finally revealed itself in the form of a single tear running down your cheek.
It was silent for a long time before Hyunjin spoke. "I'll leave her." You snapped your head up so fast that it hurt. "If that's what you want than I'll do it." The way he worded it as if it was your choice whether his marriage ended or not made you sick to your stomach, but you couldn't deny that you felt a flutter of hope in your chest that maybe this didn't have to end after all. But you're smarter than that. He says this now, but he doesn't mean it, and even if he did you wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing that a woman who did nothing wrong was out there most likely crying herself to sleep while your warm and safe in the love of her life's arms.
"No, be with her. I'll be okay." That was a complete lie but even after everything he's done, you still don't want him to worry about you.
"Please don't do this to me. I love you and I want to be with you. He held on to your legs tighter.
"Funny, isn't that what you told her when you vowed in front of God and everyone that your love for her would be eternal." His mouth snapped shut and his hands left your legs before he stood. He leaned down and before you could register what was happening his lips were on yours. You immediately reciprocated, leaning forward and pressing yourself closer into him. He was so intoxicating, the way his tongue glided with yours so smoothly had you in a trance; you snapped out of it when he placed his right knee on the bed beside you and started pushing you backwards. "No!" you shoved him away. He stumbled backwards but regained his balance quickly. "I'm not doing this with you, Hyunjin. I can't do this anymore, its wrong."
"Since when do you have morals?" His voice was louder this time, he was pissed.
"I've always had them, but I put them aside because I love you!" It was your turn to stand up and look him square in the face. "But the longer we do this the more I realize that this isn't love, its obsession and its toxic. You never loved me Hyunjin you were curious about infidelity, and I was an easy target because my standards were so fucking low that I actually settled for you."
"Fuck this, I don't have to sit here and listen to you degrade me like this." He grabbed his bag and left, but not without slamming the door behind him.
~
The past month has been hell. After laying in your bed for an entire week you decided to pack up all of Hyunjins things and throw them out, the smell of him that was radiating off of them was making you sick to your stomach every time you walked in the room. And then you went to the mall to treat yourself to a new outfit, you wanted something that didn't have any memories of him attached to it. A trip to your favorite coffee shop followed after that. you hadn't been her in a while and you missed the smell of fresh espresso as you walked in the door.
After getting yourself your favorite -a butter pecan macchiato and a small triple chocolate brownie (they were out of doughnuts)- You sat in the best spot in the entire shop, in a little booth in the corner right next to the window, where you could watch the leaves that had no color left in them fall to the ground only to get trampled over by the passing pedestrians. The leaves reminded you a lot of yourself in a way, but you hoped you never had to fall again.
"Hi," a voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You turned to find yourself looking up at a very handsome young man. His hair was blonde, and it came down to his shoulders. he had an apron on, and a big smile plastered across his face, little freckles decorated his cheeks. "I saw you bought one of the brownies, it's a new recipe I tried, and I wanted to ask if you enjoyed it."
"Oh," You blinked up at him. "Um yeah it's really good, maybe my new favorite."
"Oh, thank god," He let out a sigh of relief. "I was worried that it wouldn't be any good. See a couple of the ingredients I use were sold out, so I had to substitute-" He stooped in the middle of his sentence. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling. I tend to do that a lot."
"No, it's okay," You huffed out a laugh. He was so cute. "Now I'm curious about what ingredients were sold out." You joked.
He smiled widely at you and stretched his hand out. "I'm Felix."
You hesitated but took his hand anyway. "Nice to meet you, Felix."
PART TWO HERE
THANK YOUUU ALL FOR A THOUSAND FOLLOWERS I DONT EVEN KNOW HOW TO FEEL 😭
taglist: @katsukis1wife @sungprotector @seung-mine @favieee @soephiphanymain @z4hir @minnieslover @kjr-army @caitlyn98s @bangchansbae @fawnpeaks @yumiblogs
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serpentandlily · 3 months
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Last Solstice - Azriel x Reader, Eris x Reader
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Last Solstice - Azriel x Reader, Eris x Reader
Summary: Last Solstice you had been ready to give Azriel your heart, only to stumble upon him and Elain in a near kiss. This Solstice, you’re ready to give your heart to someone else, someone special—your mate, Eris Vanserra. 
Warnings: some angst, happy ending
A/n: Based on THIS request !! This was so fun to write !! Hope you guys enjoy this Christmas present 🎄☃️
₊˚。⋆❆⋆。˚₊
Last Christmas I gave you my heart
But the very next day you gave it away
₊˚。⋆❆⋆。˚₊
You had first met Feyre at her art studio, after attending a few lessons. The two of you had been quick friends and it wasn’t long before she started inviting you to her family get togethers. 
Which is where you met Azriel, the Shadowsinger. One drunken night at Rita’s had ended with the two of you tumbling into bed together. What started as a one time drunken decision soon led to another night in the shadowsinger’s bed, sober this time. 
When you and Azriel had started sleeping together, he had made you promise him to keep it between the two of you. You didn’t question it at first. Azriel was a private person; he’d never been forthcoming about his lovers in the past, according to Feyre. You figured eventually, if things lasted, he would want to tell his family, your now friends. You’d want to tell them too.  
But then a few months went by.
A year.
As more time passed, you began to feel deeply for Azriel and wanted to take your relationship to the next step. To be able to loudly proclaim your love to him. To go on dates in public. To finally tell your family. But every time you asked him about it, he always said the same thing. He wasn’t ready, didn’t want the attention that would come with it. So you pushed your own feelings down and tried to pretend you were still okay with the arrangement you two had. 
A secret love, only ever together once night fell. 
It didn’t help that Elain Archeron seemed to be smitten with him, seemed to follow him around like a little puppy. You didn’t miss the looks she sent his way, didn’t miss the way she’d brush up against him at every chance she got. But you couldn’t say anything, not when Azriel wanted to keep things so private. So you sucked it all up for him, no matter how much it bothered you. 
But when Solstice came around, you decided you’d finally confess your feelings for Azriel, would tell him that you loved him and wanted to be with him in all the ways that mattered. You were tired of watching Elain lust after him, tired of not being able to tell your family what was going on. 
The entire night, you were buzzing with nerves. 
You downed one too many glasses of wine, trying to relax. A part of you was worried about what Azriel would say. Did he love you too? Did he also want to take the next step? Was he finally ready? 
You wished you could answer those questions with certainty but there was an ache in your stomach that kept screaming that something was…wrong. 
You tried to convince yourself that you were just being paranoid when you noticed Azriel staring at Elain with longing and desire. Tried to convince yourself that he stayed isolated by the doorway because he hated Lucien and not because he couldn’t stand to be in a room with Elain while Lucien was here.
After all, he was in your bed most nights. Surely if he wanted Elain, he wouldn’t be stringing you along. Azriel wasn’t like that. He was a good male, a respectable male…right?
Later that night, you paced in the guest room you were staying in as you waited for Azriel. He was taking longer than normal and that had you even more on edge. You bit your lip, running a hand through your hair. Everyone else had retired for the night already and usually he would’ve snuck into your room by now. 
You couldn’t sit still, couldn’t take the anticipation so you left the room, heading towards the kitchen for a glass of water to try and deal with your nerves and the alcohol still swirling in your system. You froze at the top of the stairs, blood draining from your face. 
There was Azriel.
And Elain.
Inches from each other as Azriel draped a necklace around her neck. 
She pivoted in his grip, twisting to face him. You saw it then. The look of affection and longing clear as day on Azriel’s face as he gazed down at her. A look he had never given you. Your heart snapped into pieces in your chest, nausea rising in your stomach. A hand flew to your mouth to quiet any noise you might make.
You took a step back.
Another.
And collided with a hard chest. You whirled around, trying to blink away the tears still forming in your eyes, to see Rhys standing there. He stared down at you, his expression melting into one of concern as he noticed your upset face.
“Y/n?” he murmured. “Are you okay?”
“F-fine,” you choked out. “I’m fine.”
And then you brushed past him and nearly ran to your room, quietly shutting the door behind you before taking in quick breaths. Elain and Azriel were just friends, you tried to convince yourself even though your heart and mind were screaming otherwise.
You heard Rhys stop on the landing on the stairs just as you had. A second went by and you heard his retreating footsteps to his office. 
You cracked open your door a bit, against your better judgment, only to see Elain rush by, distraught. Your eyes widened and you waited a breath to see if Azriel was following after her, but no one else came by. 
You wiped the tears on your cheeks and quietly stepped in the hallway.
Every instinct was screaming at you to go to Rhys’s office, as if something inside of you knew what you’d find. The pressure in your head was so strong, your stomach turning over itself again and again, and you knew you couldn’t ignore the gut feeling.
You crept along the wall, silently, just as Azriel had taught you, until you heard voices. You paused in your tracks, listening in. 
“...about to kiss Elain, in the middle of a hall where anyone could see you,” Rhys snarled. “Including her mate.” 
“What if the Cauldron was wrong?”
That was Azriel’s voice. You covered your mouth with a hand, every nerve in your body lit up. You felt stuck in a nightmare, a terrible dream. 
“What of Y/n, Az?”
Your heart froze at the mention of you. 
“What about her?”
The nonchalance in Azriel’s voice caused a new wave of nausea. 
“Don’t play stupid,” Rhys snapped. “I’ve seen the two of you sneaking off together.” 
Silence for a moment. “It’s just sex.”
You weren’t sure your heart could break more, but it had and it did. Ripped and smashed and crumbled into dust. Just sex? Just sex? It had never been just sex to you! It certainly never seemed that way. 
“Does Y/n know that?”
“What are you trying to say?” Azriel growled. “We’re just friends. I don’t care about Y/n…not like that. Not the way I care about Elain.”
You backed away, unable to listen to anymore of it. You felt drunk as you stumbled back to your room, your vision blurry with the tears in your eyes. It felt like the whole world was collapsing, like you had just found out everything in your life had been a lie. In a way, you had. 
Azriel had never once made it seem like this was some friends with benefits situation. Not once had he ever told you he only saw you as a body to use for pleasure and nothing more, nothing deeper. 
You had fallen for him. You thought he had fallen for you.
Gods, you were so stupid. Of course, he wanted Elain. Soft, sweet Elain. His opposite, a proper lady in waiting. You had let yourself be blinded by your feelings for him and now you were paying the price. You stumbled into your room and fell on your bed, erupting into quiet sobs.
Everything made sense now. Keeping it a secret so Elain would never know, so you wouldn’t ruin his chance with her. But why had he pretended to like you? Why would he do that to you? 
He made you feel special but now you realized you had just been a shoulder to cry on and a distraction for what his heart really wanted. 
You had been so ready to give Azriel your heart…you already had. But he didn’t want it. He didn’t want you. 
Azriel never came that night.
₊˚。⋆❆⋆。˚₊
Happy Christmas, I wrapped it up and sent it
With a note saying "I love you", I meant it
Now I know what a fool I've been
But if you kissed me now, I know you'd fool me again
₊˚。⋆❆⋆。˚₊
You wished you could say that is where the story ended. But evidently, you were a fool. Because you let him back into your bed a few days later—didn’t speak a word of your feelings for him or what you had heard. 
You wished you had more dignity, wished you could tell him to get lost. But you loved him. 
Two more months went by before you finally pulled yourself together, tried to muster up the will to leave. You deserved better. You deserved someone who loved you and wanted you. You were tired of being second place to some other girl, tired of being a consolation prize. 
You were worth more than that. 
You reached out to a childhood friend who had moved back to Autumn, asking to move in with her for some time as you got your life together. The next day, your apartment was emptied and you were gone.
₊˚。⋆❆⋆。˚₊
Last Christmas, I gave you my heart
But the very next day, you gave it away
This year, to save me from tears
I’ll give it to someone special
₊˚。⋆❆⋆。˚₊
“Which ones would you say are your favorite?”
You jumped slightly, clutching a hand to your chest. You looked towards where the deep voice had come from and nearly stumbled back. Eris Vanserra was standing beside you, hands clasped behind his back, a half smirk on his handsome face. 
He was dressed in a fine deep green coat and a white tunic, the top buttons undone to showcase the gold jewelry dangling from his neck. His red hair was tousled, likely from a recent horseback ride and his amber eyes were gleaming with a small flame.
“H-high Lord,” you gasped, starting to courtesy but he shook his head before nodding towards the flower cart you were working at. 
“Which flowers are your favorite?” He asked again, a hint of amusement in his voice at how flustered he had made you. 
You blushed a light pink, turning your gaze back to the many bouquets you had for sale. You figured he was buying some flowers for a lady in his life.
“Well, um, what’s the occasion?” You asked, fiddling nervously in his presence. He smelt like wildfire and cinnamon—it was intoxicating. 
“I am taking a girl out on a first date tonight,” he said, his voice smooth like whiskey. He gave you a charming, fox-like smile. “I wanted to bring her flowers. I figured no one would have better taste than the flower cart girl herself. So which do you recommend?”
You bit your lip, looking at the many flowers. “Well, I’d say roses but that’s a bit cliche. Our orange and red carnations are usually favored by the ladies of this court. Perhaps a bouquet of those?”
“Are those your favorite? The carnations?”
You peered at him. He was focused on the flowers, rubbing a thumb against his bottom lips. You had seen Eris Vanserra at his coronation, but only from afar. He had been striking then. But this close, well, he was stunning, beautiful. 
He glanced down at you, raising an eyebrow and you remembered he had asked you a question. You cleared your throat.
“No,” you answered. “My favorite are the fire lilies but they are not as popular.”
“I’ll take a bouquet of those,” he said with certainty, pulling a pouch of coin from his pocket.
“Are…are you sure?” You stuttered. “Are you certain she will like them?”
“Quite certain, yes,” he answered with another fox-like grin. He set down money on the cart, far more than what they were priced at.
You were quick to bundle up some of the fire lilies, adding a few complimentary flowers to fill in the empty spaces. You rolled them into some brown butcher paper and handed it over to him. “Here you are.”
“So, when and where can I find you tonight?”
“S-sorry, what?”
You looked up at him, eyebrows raised. 
“When and where can I find you tonight,” Eris purred, “for our date.” 
“Are you…being serious?” You asked, incredulously, because this had to be some sort of joke. The High Lord couldn’t possibly be asking you out on a date. 
Eris reached forward with his free hand, grabbing yours and bringing it up to his lips. He pressed a soft kiss on your knuckles. “Indeed, I am.”
Your heart skipped a beat, butterflies swarming your stomach. You hadn’t had such a reaction to a male like this since Azriel. But looking at Eris, you wondered what you ever saw in the dark haired shadowsinger. Perhaps you had never needed shadow. Maybe you had needed…flame.
The next few months were a whirlwind of romance. Despite the reputation Eris had before he had been made High Lord, he had proved himself to be much more soft hearted then his cruel father. You were surprised by his kindness, his devotion and the heart he showed you. 
It had been easy to fall in love with him. 
So when the mating bond between the two of you snapped into place, it was only the cherry on top. 
₊˚。⋆❆⋆。˚₊
A face on a lover with a fire in his heart
A man under cover, but you tore me apart
Oh, oh now I've found a real love
You'll never fool me again
₊˚。⋆❆⋆。˚₊
You were standing on the doorstep of the River House, a place you hadn’t been since that fateful night. You could hear the laughter from the Inner Circle inside. After you had left the Night Court, you had stayed in touch with almost everyone except Azriel. So when Feyre invited you over for Winter Solstice, you couldn’t say no—especially considering it was her birthday.
But you told yourself you wouldn’t stay long. Not when you had a fiance waiting for you back home. You were very eager to get back.
You knocked on the door, listening as the voices quieted down and footsteps approached. The door was pulled open and there was Feyre, dressed in a cozy get-up with a small babe perched on her hip.  
“Y/n!” Feyre lurched forward to give you a side hug. You hugged her back, pressing a small kiss to the top of Nyx’s head before handing over a wrapped present. She took it with a smile.
“Happy Birthday,” you sang. “And Happy Solstice.”
“Thank you! I’m so glad you decided to come,” she stepped back, letting you cross into the house. 
You hung up your coat and followed her towards the sitting room. You paused for a second, noting Azriel who was lingering in the doorway. You waited for the hurt to wash through you but none came. You felt…nothing. No, gone was the heartache and pain. Where an emptiness had lingered before, a new love filled it. A love so bright and fiery, it burned through everything else.
Your shoulders dropped and you breezed past him with a polite greeting. 
You were actually here to make an announcement, before you and Eris were to go public with your engagement to the other courts. You wanted to tell Feyre and Rhys personally before they heard about it from someone else. 
You were given a warm welcome and you ignored the feeling of Azriel’s eyes lingering on you throughout the night. Instead, you were content with sitting with Lucien—the only person in this room who knew about your engagement to his brother. 
You were surprised to see Elain sat next to him, their hands entwined. You peered at Azriel, making eye contact, but his face was completely unreadable.
A wine glass was shoved into your hands and the night went on. It wasn’t until you made your way to the bathroom that you actually spoke to Azriel.
“Y/n,” he called out from behind you. You turned, watching him approach with his hands held behind his back, shadows swirling.
“Azriel,” you greeted, smiling blandly. 
“Feyre told me you moved back to Autumn.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Why did you never say anything before you left? I thought…well—”
He trailed off and you raised an eyebrow at him. “Thought what?”
“Well I thought, maybe, there had been something going on between the two of us,” Azriel said. “But you left so suddenly and without word.”
Why did he care now? Because Elain was with her mate and no longer an option? Regardless, you didn’t care for the reason. You had found a love that transcended the stars and universe. Though you had no ill will towards Azriel, you obviously weren’t going to entertain this conversation.
“Something going on between us?” You questioned. “Az…you know it was only ever just sex, right? I thought…I thought that had been obvious.”
Alright, so maybe you were a bit petty. 
“No, you’re right,” he said, awkwardly. “I just thought… well, nevermind.”
You smiled, playing dumb. “Happy Solstice, Azriel.”
He gave you a dip of the head. “Happy Solstice, Y/n.”
With that, you turned on your heel and continued down the corridor. When you got back from the bathroom, you knew it was time to make the announcement and head back home so you could celebrate Solstice with your new family.
You clanged against your wine glass to get everyone’s attention, standing up from your seat. Lucien gave you an encouraging nod that helped settle your nerves. 
“I have an announcement to make,” you said before taking the glamour off your hand and revealing the large engagement ring on your finger. You heard several happy gasps of air. “I’m engaged! I wanted to tell you all before you heard through court gossip. You’re looking at the soon-to-be High Lady of Autumn.”
Cheers erupted in the room as most of them had already known about your relationship with Eris. You had told Feyre about it in one of your letters. Luckily, Mor and Eris had settled their differences once he became High Lord and there was now peace between the two courts. 
“Oh my Gods! This is so exciting!”
Feyre jumped up and embraced you. You let out a small breath of relief and hugged her back. Once she let you go, some of the others also jumped up to congratulate you. 
“When did he propose?” Mor asked.
“Two weeks ago,” you smiled before dropping another bomb. “Right after the mating bond snapped into place.”
“Mates and he’s going to make you High Lady?! Y/n, this is great news!” 
It took another ten minutes before everyone settled down after congratulating you and pressing you for more details. You kept your lips sealed though, wanting to keep a few things just between you and Eris. 
It was only then you noticed Azriel had disappeared from the room.
₊˚。⋆❆⋆。˚₊
Last Christmas I gave you my heart
But the very next day you gave it away
This year, to save me from tears
I'll give it to someone special, special
₊˚。⋆❆⋆。˚₊
You let out a content sigh as you entered the High Lord and Ladys’ chamber, happy to be home. Eris was there, waiting for you with a smile on his face.
You rushed forward and he caught you in his arms, swinging you around. He held you tight against him.
“Don’t ever leave me again,” he whispered into your ear. “Please.”
You giggled, pulling back to look up at him. “I was only gone for two hours!”
He pressed a kiss to your lips. “Two hours too long.”
You shook your head at him, feeling the love and admiration he was sending down the bond. The joy of having you back in his arms. “Don’t worry, I have no plans on leaving now that I’m home.”
His smile took your breath away. 
“Good,” he said before lifting you into his arms and carrying you to the bed. You laughed as he tossed you onto the fluffy pillows with a wolfish grin. “Because I have to make up for lost time now.”
“You’re insatiable,” you teased as he crawled over you, kissing your neck and jaw. 
“You love it,” he purred, his red hair falling forward to tickle your forehead. 
You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss him.
“I love you,” you mumbled against his lips. 
“And I love you,” Eris said with such honesty, you felt yourself soften underneath him. 
You spent the rest of Winter Solstice wrapped up in his arms, the only place you truly felt at home. 
₊˚。⋆❆⋆。˚₊
1K notes · View notes
wolfiesmoon · 3 months
Text
I can't sleep
Ran x good girl!reader
Do i want a bad boy (literal criminal) bf? Yea but i would probably cry if he insulted me or got into trouble in any capacity at all
(i am totally not unironically vibing to pretty little psycho while writing this)
edit: i made a part 2!!
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"I dare you to kiss Haitani Ran." Your friend nudged you.
You knew you shouldn't have agreed to this stupid game of truth or dare. You knew your friend was going to make you do stupid stuff like this.
"Like... the big scary delinquent guy?" You asked, hoping you heard her wrong.
"Yeah, that Haitani Ran." Your friend smirked mischeviously.
"How about I don't do that?" The last thing you'd want to do is get involved wth any delinquents or gangs. You have no idea how dangerous Ran could be and even if he wasn't you'd still refuse to kiss a good for nothing delinquent.
"Are you trying to get me killed?" you followed up, realising just how bad this dare could end up.
"You do know that refusing this dare means that you have to do anything I say for a week, right?" Your friend had a horribly evil look on her face. You don't even want to know the things she would make you do if you refused this stupid dare.
But is kissing Ran any better? Pick your poison, you suppose.
"Fine, I'll do it." You said behind clenched teeth, not at all happy about this outcome. You've never even kissed before, and now you have to kiss freaking Ran Haitani. You might actually die.
Why did you agree? What is wrong with you?
This might just be the worst day of your life.
You ended up being a little unfocused in class, making your teacher worry.
.
"Haitani-san." you call out to him, your voice dying off slightly at the end due to nerves. You're the only ones left in the classroom, with your friend watching from behind the door to make sure you actually do it. He looks back at you and you feel a shiver run through you.
Oh my god, you're actually doing this.
He stops, waiting to see what you want with him. You move closer to him, and his eyes narrow slightly, as if he's getting a good look at you.
"Now, what could the class president herself possibly want with me?" his tone was slightly mocking and you would have showed him you're not to be messed with but honestly you'd probably be the one losing in that scenario.
You inhaled sharply, pulling him down by his braids and planting a kiss straight onto his lips. This feels like a bad shojo plot, the "good girl" falls in love with the "bad boy" and kisses him all of a sudden. Except there's no romance involved here. Just a dare.
Is this how you kiss? Why does it feel so strange? That should be enough, right? You can feel your parents shaking their heads dissaprovingly already.
Ok, now you're just kissing him for way too long. It's time to let go. And you try to, you really do. Since when were his arms wrapped around your waist, anyways? And why isn't he letting you go?!
You can feel your friend's evil stare burning into your back. This is not amusing!
He laughed a little into the kiss, pulling you impossibly closer. Oh, so they're both going to enjoy your suffering now, you see how it is.
Still, kissing him isn't half ba-
Ok, you're actually losing it. You need out and fast.
You wriggled out of his grasp, running away as fast as your legs could take you. You heard both Ran and your friend yell something behind you but you honestly don't care.
Why did you ever agree to do this?!
.
That same thought persisted even as you tossed and turned in bed that night.
"Oh god, he's going to send his goons after me and I'm gonna die... And then I won't ever get to become successful..." you muttered to yourself.
"Or maybe he's gonna come and kill me myself after school tommorow... Ugh..." you can't come to school tired, you won't be able to pay attention in class that way. You can't ruin your perfect record by falling asleep in class.
Who cares about the perfect record?! You should be worried for your life!
"And what is that stupid noise, anyways?" you muttered, grumbling and getting up to inspect the source. Another stone hits the window, making you jump slightly. You walk to the window and open it, narrowly avoiding a stone that was thrown your way.
"Sorry!~"
Wait. You'd recognise that voice anywhere.
It's Ran.
"What are you doing here? How did you even get my adress?" you half yelled, not wanting to wake up your parents.
"You shouldn't sweat the little things. Come downstairs." he was smiling calmly, but you still couldn't tell if he was threatening you. Actually, is that his motorcycle parked next to him?
"You should probably put on a jacket too. It's real cold." he added on, and you nervously closed the window, quietly sneaking downstairs and putting on a jacket. Your pyjamas are not the most presentable, but you really don't want to test his patience right now.
You met him outside. What is he going to do to you now?
"Get on." he pointed to his bike, catching you off guard.
"Not without a helmet, riding a motorcycle without one can be really dangerous and you could lose your life." you couldn't help but bring up safety regulations. It's in your nature.
"I told you, don't sweat the details and just sit down." he completely ignored you, pushing you in the direction of the bike. You complied, sitting down on it awkwardly, not sure what to expect. He doesn't seem violent...
He sat down behind you, revving up the engine and just driving off without a care in the world.
"W-Wait!" you were shocked at the speed, grabbing onto him by instinct and missing the way his lips curved up at that.
"Where are you taking me?! I never consented to this!" you had to yell over the sound of the engine, shutting your eyes. He was right, it really is cold when you're riding on a motorcycle.
"And you know what I didn't consent to? That kiss." he replied and your face scrunched up a little, cringing at the not so distant memory. "But that's fine, because that means you're mine now."
"Huh?!" you finally opened your eyes, looking up at him. His expression was a little hard to make out since the only thing illuminating it was street lights that you were speeding past. Is he even following the speed limit?
"I value my sleep, you see. And that little stunt you pulled made me unable to fall asleep. So I figured I might as well give you a little visit." he placed a hand over you protectively, making you worry about your safety even more.
"Who would have thought the top of the class good girl would fall for me?" he looked down at you.
"I did not fall in love with you! It was a dare!" you shot back.
"Oh well, doesn't matter. You're my girl now. And that's that."
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blkgirl-writing · 4 months
Text
The massive list of SFW and NSFW Gale Dekarios headcanons
Gale of Waterdeep x Reader (Gn! for the most part)
A/N: the more I write Gale, the more in love with him I am. I started this before patch 5 and haven't been able to play it myself, so whoopsies if I just have to make another one of these. Lots of requests included in this one, to be expanded on later!
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Gale is the most caring partner in the whole group. Followed by karlach and Wyll
He would much rather do everything for you than anything for him
This means he often over extends himself for you and you have to convince him to let you help him
Quality time and words of affirmation are his main love languages. All he wants is time alone with you, and he will do so much to make that happen
Gale actually sets up his tent to be as comfortable as possible because you don't have your own tent, and he doesn't mind at all if you sleep in his
eventually you basically just sleep in his tent exclusively, platonically at the moment. Sleeping on other sides or with a blanket between you
It isn't until you wake up from a particularly bad nightmare that your accidental touches aren't followed by apologies. Not quite embracing but not flinching away
He held you that night, wrapping his arms around you, his hands were big, soft, and comforting. He didn't speak until you did, who knows how long that was. All he said was "You're safe. It's ok."
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He truly believes he doesn’t deserve you and that weighs kind of heavy on him
That shows in his body movements, confidence, still hesitant to be close to you physically in an extremely subtle way
With more flirting, more talking, more late nights close together, but still apart, still a gap in your embrace
Gale is still in touch with his sexuality and sex, but sex is different than love making. And he knew, when he fully let you in, when he’s finally stable and his mind, body, and soul were ready, he’d make love to you
Your first time together was for the most part, pretty talked through. You set your boundaries and safe word pretty fast
He’d stop at some point, pull back and just admire you
Stop is used lightly because he’s definitely still inside you and just very slowly still pumping in and out of you
“You’re absolutely ravishing.”
And he’d give himself fully to you
Gods he’d be all over you after, so touchy, even if not sexual in nature, any tough felt electric
Gale holds your waist more than your hand, it feels more romantic, showing you off to the world as someone that chose him. It’s really sweet, the first time he does it, he hand trembled a bit, he thought he was smooth enough for you not to tell but you could definitely feel it
Don’t get me wrong, he is confident and cocky at times, everyone knows that. But with you somehow, he feels nervous that you deserve more than he could give
Part of your early relationship is making sure he knows he’s wanted and loved and more than anything you could have wished for
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Cuddling is always fun because it usually end up with fucking
If you’re the big spoon? He becomes such an angel and snuggles into your touch
If he’s big spoon he’s immediately turned on by everything, you being so close into him, your ass pressed against him, so many beautiful places for him to touch
Always ends in side fucking, just pulling your underwear down just enough to grind his cock on your bare ass
It’s also just convenient and easy if you’re getting busy while the others are sleeping in camp
But many days your time has you weak and just ready for rest, but you're both more horny than tired
that's when mutual masturbation becomes a daily routine, which never really leaves, even when you aren't as tired and have more privacy
he likes you call you his cherished work of art, seeing you spread for him is like a painting
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One night in baldurs gate, you stay up into the morning drinking and talking in a bar, they only kicked you out when they literally were an hour last close, keeping it open because you had bought so much
It was literally anything, just talking about everything and nothing at the same time. Past pets, stupid haircuts growing up, embarrassing failures
That was the night everyone else really realized how deeply in love you two were
Like sure there was romance but real true love, with sparks
They absolutely made fun of you when you finally stumbled to your camp and passed out all day crammed into the small one person beds
I like to believe Astarion drew a stick figure version of y’all’s sleeping position to make fun of you when you woke
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Once you’ve moved in with him he gets more and more turned on by you every day
You could be doing nothing and he’d grab your thigh and give you such a dirty look of lust
Not even three months in and ya'll have fucked on every surface possible, knocked over many books, and accidentally broke a vase and a bit in the shower
For the most part, your cozy days consist of him reading, and you beside him, feet resting on his lap
If you're a bard, of course he's going to ask you to practice and play around him and while you relax together, his favorite sounds all come from your sweet melodies
if you drink you definitely share a bottle of wine throughout the day
When Gale get's tipsy he just gets lovey and nerdy
telling you about a favorite bit of history or a spell, interrupting himself to compliment you "Gods you're beautiful, have I told you that today, dear?" and "And that's how the stars fell in love with- that top is stunning my love, mind if I take it off?"
cooking is fun yet very stressful unless he has a drink in hand
it's his kitchen and he's not used to company in it, so he often bumps into you or doesn't know where to say something is, so he just ends up getting it for you
I have a feeling this man is super into coffee and the roasts
like he's an absolute snob over it. A whole glass cupboard is dedicated to bags of coffee from where ever he travels
"Just too dark of a roast, it muddies the hazelnut flavor" (yes I believe he's a whole bean light roast lover)
Maybe you get a normal, non-speaking cat for yourself and just to have a bigger family in your home
I'd imagine a very reckless black or ginger cat who tara takes a VERY long time to love
but it's your and Gales cat. It's a thing you own together and love dearly
There's also a self of cards, board games, etc, for your date nights in
Gale legitimately is just as happy if you win than if he, if not more happy for you
He often takes a while to take his turn because he's distracted by you
super sweet but makes games feel much longer
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@shyminnie07 @makers-breath @claryvoyantfray @black-sapphic @fapqueen
(Consider supporting me on Ko-fi)
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hannieehaee · 1 month
Note
hii!! i hope ure having a great day
i just wanted to request loser!scoups hehe I RLLY LOVED CHANS VERSION AND WAS HOPING TO SEE MORE 🫶🏻 anyways take your time to answer when ure free, thanku!
18+ / mdi
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content: loser!seungcheol, afab reader, smut, dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 2686
a/n: hii thank u for requesting <33 i never considered loser!cheol before but ngl i loved writing it hehe i hope u enjoy <3
masterlist
despite popular belief, seungcheol was actually a bit of a loser.
okay, maybe his appearance didn't necessarily fit the bill (with his slicked back hair and bulging muscles), but everything else about choi seungcheol truly screamed loser.
even with a large group of fratboy friends, seungcheol was still the loser of the friend group, being the only one who had opted out of joining the frat and who spent every day and night studying rather than ever attending any of his friends' parties.
this was all by choice, he swears! seungcheol was just far too serious about his education to let anything become a distraction. and it had always been like this, even dating back all the way to middle school (jeonghan could vouch for this, having known him basically since diapers). due to this, seungcheol had always been kind of a black sheep in any and every social situation he ever found himself in. as a result, seungcheol ended up becoming shy, awkward, utterly embarrassing in social situations, and as jeonghan liked to put it, a 'virgin loser.'
even if seungcheol wanted to disagree with his friend, he knew he was right. here he was, twenty-one years of age and still a lonely virgin who had never even felt the touch of a woman's hand in his. he'd had opportunities before, set ups orchestrated by his friends, but he always managed to fuck them up. due to jeonghan's outgoing disposition, the girls he usually set him up with were set for a surprise upon meeting a his friend seungcheol, who could not even hold eye contact for more then twelve seconds (he counted).
except this year that would all change.
now in his senior year of college, seungcheol had an epiphany.
on the very first week of senior year, upon being assigned a new dorm-mate due to his previous one transfering, seungcheol finally saw a mirror of himself.
his new roommate was, for lack of a better term, a fucking loser (the term being courtesy of jeonghan once again). seungcheol had barely met the guy, yet he could not stand one more moment of conversation with him. not only was he a know-it-all who could only ever talk about academics, but he was maybe even more of a loser virgin than seungcheol was (at least that's what seungcheol was able to assess from the three separate occasions in which he walked in on his roommate watching porn in the common area of the dorm). his hygiene was terrible and his wide-rimmed glasses made him look like the typical nerd in every high school movie. everything about him was what seungcheol feared to one day become.
this one week of torture had been enough for seungcheol to finally take jeonghan up on his offer to join his frat and subsequently move into the frat house. granted, jeonghan had to break a few rules to allow a new pledge with zero obstacles in the way, but jeonghan was just charming enough to get away with it.
seungcheol had already spent the past 10+ years with perfect grades and pristine extra curriculars, so he figured that even if he completely flunked these last two semesters, he would still be a shoe-in for the masters program he'd been eyeing since arriving to university.
so now seungcheol was immersed in the frat lifestyle, though he still felt a bit out of place, which unfortunately for cheol, was something his good friend jeonghan noticed immediately. but this would only be a problem for a short while.
unbeknownst to seungcheol, jeonghan had orchestrated a plan for seungcheol's first frat party. it all started with giving seungcheol a bit of a new look. jeonghan insisted on throwing out most of cheol's 'nerdy clothes' (admittedly, he did dress like an old man at times), traded in his thick-rimmed glasses for some better fitting specs and lastly, gave cheol a trim to better frame his face. after all these changes, cheol felt more confident but still did not feel ready to attend one of the frat's well-known parties.
the decision was, however, taken for him, as he found himself in attendance to one just a few days later. also unknown to cheol was that jeonghan had been playing cupid once more, scouting to see which one of his closer girl-friends would be a good fit for his friend. and of course, his attention immediately fell on you.
jeonghan had only known you since the last semester of his junior year, in which the two of you had partnered up for a project that took up the entire fifteen weeks of instruction. the two of you hit it off pretty easily, but you hadn't quite caught his attention in a non-platonic way.
but you had caught someone else's.
although it had only been a fleeting moment, jeonghan caught onto every single look and action that had occurred the day in which seungcheol had accidentally interrupted a study session between the two of you.
he had easily noticed the blush in cheol's cheeks upon seeing you for the first time, along with the way he shyly checked you out when you weren't paying attention. what had surprised him the most, though, had been the way you checked out his friend as he went to leave the room. that had been enough for jeonghan to decide to play matchmaker between the two of you if the opportunity ever arose. and that was now.
getting the two of you alone was not difficult, but jeonghan knew better. he knew that sending the two of you into an empty room, completely blind to whatever he was planning was just a bad idea. so jeonghan decided that for the first time in his life, he would not scheme. he would simply set up the scene and leave the rest to you.
when jeonghan first came up to you a few days back and let you know about his friend's crush on you, you had been pleasantly surprised. what had shocked you the most, though, had been the revelation that jeonghan's cute friend was actually an inexperienced virgin. jeonghan told you to please not bring it up to cheol, but that he felt it was best you knew so you didnt feel caught off guard should you ever try to hit him up (which he knew you would). what jeonghan didnt realize was that this fact excited you more than you'd like to admit.
planting that seed was more than enough to get you looking for cheol in the empty room jeonghan had said he'd be in (okay, maybe he did scheme a little), prepared to deflower the pretty nerd you'd been thinking about every time you started to notice him sitting alone in the library every other day.
you had dressed to the nines, donning a red slip dress that gave you breathing room but still accentuated every part of your body you wished to stand out. ready and confident, you quietly opened the door to what you assumed to be jeonghan's room, knowing you'd find his pretty friend inside.
sitting alone on the bed, seemingly trying to psych himself up as he whispered affirmations to himself, the boy jumped back upon your unexpected intrusion, with his hears instantly turning red at realizing who you were.
you were jeonghan's pretty friend. the one seungcheol had had some unbecoming thoughts about immediately after seeing you in jeonghan's room last semester (and subsequently seeing you around campus as his eyes would unknowingly always search for you). and you looked .... fuck. and you were alone in han's room with him .... and you had closed the door right behind you .... and now you had walked all the way over to where he was sitting at the edge of the bed, not shocked at all to see him there ....
"hi," you smiled at him.
"h– hey."
"are you okay? how come you're here all alone?", you sat next to him on the bed, damning all boundaries, apparently.
"oh, i ... just a little nervous, i guess."
"yeah? of what?", despite the unexpectedness of the situation, you seemed genuinely interested, so seungcheol responded.
"it's, uh, my first party as a member of the frat."
"oh, really? i had no idea you were a member of the frat. that's pretty cool, seungcheol."
"you know my name?"
you scoot closer, smile still on your face, "yeah, of course i know your name. do you now mine?"
"oh, i, uh, yeah ..."
"okay, so we know each other. do you maybe want a friend to go out there with? maybe that would ease your nerves," your hand had somehow made its way to his thigh, now invading his personal space a bit. except he couldnt find it in himself to complain.
"t– that's fine, i, uh, i have han and– "
"but arent i better company?"
"y– you're ..."
"can i be honest with you, seungcheol?", you didnt wait for a response, "hannie told me that maybe you needed some help. that i could maybe help you out?"
"help? what type of help do you mean?"
you leaned in even closer, "do you want me to show you?"
"i ..."
"all you have to say is 'yes', cheollie ...", you breathed out now close enough for him to feel your breath on his lips.
he nodded and made an embarrassing noise of affirmation, completely giving up on speaking.
it was embarrassing how easily he let you turn him into a puddle, not even bothering to question how or why jeonghan orchestrated this situation. but that didnt matter as he finally felt the lips of a woman against his own – your lips; the lips of the girl he'd been crushing on from afar, jealous that maybe you'd become more than jeonghan's classmate. this was a clear declaration that his assertions had been incorrect.
seungcheol wasn't sure what to do with his hands (or with his tongue) as he kissed you. he felt you smile against his lips at his whimper, making feel that maybe you were making fun of him. when you pulled away, he feared that maybe he'd been right.
"cheollie, let me show you, yeah? just let me– yeah, like that", you positioned him in a way that would allow you to straddle him as you said this, wrapping his arms around your waist, "okay now let me show you how to kiss me, okay? just open your mouth a bit for me and let me teach you. then you can try it on me."
with that, you leaned into his open mouth, sticking your tongue inside as you played with his own, sucking on it and causing his eyes to roll back, another embarrassing moan leaving his lips.
"do you wanna try it now?", you asked as you pulled away.
he feared his voice would betray him, so he just nodded before leaning in.
seungcheol mimicked your previous actions, though his were a bit sloppier and more desperate. he whined at the way you sighed and pulled at his hair due to the way in which he suckled at your tongue and squeezed his fingers on your hips.
eventually you began to also kiss him back, making it a battle between your tongues all the while seungcheol tried to keep up.
suddenly your hips began to move against his own, making him groan in pleasure. after that, you leaned over him, causing the two of you to lay on the bed as you practically rode him through your clothes.
cheol couldnt help his cries of pleasure at feeling you press against his now swollen member. he didnt want the feeling to end, so he grabbed onto your hips and helped you in your movements, even grinding his own hips upwards to match you.
"cheollie ... do you want more? hmm? wanna feel what its like?", you purred against his ear while pulling off your dress, leaving you in a tiny bralette and thin panties.
"yes! fuck, please. i'll take whatever you wanna give me, just ..."
"shhh, it's okay. i'll give it to you, pretty. you dont have to beg. want you just as bad," you kissed him again before he could reply.
without him noticing, you had thrown off your bra, something which made him completely blank when you pulled away and began talking to him. none of your words made it through his head. he was far too busy looking at the pretty nude girl in front of him. he salivated at every inch of naked skin, wanting nothing more than to lick and kiss at every curve. out of all parts of your body, his eyes were glued to your tits. the fleeting thought of suffocating in them flew through his head, making him shudder.
"cheol?", you grabbed onto his chin and pointed his gaze towards your own, finally breaking him out of his trance.
you giggled at his confused face, causing him to sheepishly apologize for dozing off.
"it's okay, pretty. i'd be distracted too if i could get all these clothes off you ... that's what i was asking actually, can i?" your hands began to teasingly pull at his top, mangling it a bit so it could expose some skin.
his nod was all you needed to rip off his shirt and pull off his pants with urgency that had seungcheol blushing. after getting him fully naked, you threw off your panties and finally sat against him completely bare. the heat of your skin against his was enough to have him burying his face against your neck and begging you once more to please give it to him.
"shhh. i'll give it to you, pretty. i– i'll give you everything," and with that, you sank down on him, throwing your head back at the intrusion.
meanwhile seungcheol was completely gone. the warmth of your body against his had been one thing, but feeling your heat wrap around him was what truly did him in.
it's not like he had stayed a virgin by choice. he had tried to hit it off with many of the girls jeonghan set him up with, but none of them showed any care for him. they'd all expected him to step up and fuck them. even when he would try to shyly explain that he had never done anything sexual before, he'd just be met with scoffs or laughter. but you had walked him through it. you had complimented him and made him feel comfortable. you had made him see pleasure for the first time in his life.
although these thoughts swam through his head as you fucked yourself on his cock, seungcheol's mind was otherwise completely empty. all he could think about was how good you felt and how pretty you sounded as you threw your head back and pulled at his hair. you were just the embodiment of pleasure.
all cares and worries were gone from his brain until the moment in which he felt all his pleasure reach a peak.
he didn't want to be a fucking loser and cum so soon, but you just felt so fucking good, he couldnt help himself. he cried a warning out to you, to which you encouraged him to let go and told him you'd follow him soon.
his orgasm was something he never couldve imagined. but your own orgasm soon trampled that experience. your tightness as you let yourself go while still wrapped around him had him delirious with pleasure. without meaning to, his nails dug into the skin of your pretty hips as he lost consciousness for a few seconds.
unable to fully process it, he felt a sweet peck against his lips before feeling you cuddle against him. he didnt have to think twice before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer.
"remind me to thank that idiot", he spoke up after some moments.
"who, hannie?", you giggled against his chest.
"yeah. he was onto something when he made me get ready in his room."
"oh? he sent me in here looking for you."
"that fucker", he chuckled, "owe him one."
927 notes · View notes
peachdues · 1 month
Text
TOXIC
LEVI X READER
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A/N: a combination of the horny angst that’s been swirling in my head for a few days.
Listen. Do I condone what’s about to happen in this? No. Was it fun to write? Absolutely.
CW: MDNI • explicit sexual content below • toxic fucking • unprotected/raw sex • creampie • breeding kink • fucking does not solve problems • neither do babies • toxic Levi and toxic Reader tbh
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This was a bad idea. Terrible; one of your worst to date.
And yet, as Levi spread you out across his kitchen counter — the counter that, until two weeks ago, had also been yours — you couldn’t for the life of you remember why every alarm bell in your head was sounding off, begging your body stiffen, to reject the man lowering himself between your thighs, his gray eyes glowing nearly silver with desire.
“Just can’t stay away, can you?” His lips are hot and silky as they slope messily across your thighs, and his fingers push aside the hem of your sundress to make way for him. “Because try as you might, you know no one will ever be able to fuck you like I can.”
Ah. That was why.
Because you and Levi had broken up. You were no more; a past concept, a memory.
In the end, your three-year relationship died not in a fiery blaze of glory, but in cold resignation. He’d sat stoically at the kitchen table as you’d confessed that you could no longer stomach being second or third or whatever place behind his true passion — work — and that it was time for you to put yourself first, for once, since he wouldn’t.
The only sign of his emotion has been his fists — clenched so tight that the skin of his knuckles had gone white.
I’m done. I have nothing left to give you, Levi. Not when you only ever take and offer nothing in return.
He’d tried to argue once you announced your intention to move out that night. He’d fought to convince you to wait until morning, to put away the small suitcase you’d packed with your most essential belongings, to sleep on it — on the decision overall. But you’d known that if you’d stayed, you would have changed your mind — would’ve let him change your mind, and he’d known that, too. So you’d held firm, turned your back on him and forced yourself to walk out of the door to your apartment, suitcase in hand.
You hadn’t intended to return, and it seemed like he’d accepted it. He’d even gone so far as to mail whatever of your belongings you hadn’t managed to pack to your parents’ address. So though you spent your nights staining your pillow with bitter tears, your heart feeling like little more than a misshapen lump of meat barely beating in your chest, you’d at least gotten what you thought you’d wanted: a clean break.
Until he’d texted you that all of your mail was still being sent to your — his — address. He’d offered to pay to have it forwarded to you, but when you saw how much that would have put you in his debt, you’d begrudgingly told him you’d stop by on your way home from work and pick it up.
Really, you knew better; should have known better, at least.
And perhaps your logic would have won over your desire, but then Levi’s fingers tug your underwear to the side and his mouth latches to your core, and all the chatter that constitutes your higher reasoning fades to an indiscernible buzz in the back of your skull. The moment you feel something hot and wet prodding your entrance, your mind whites out without the hope of coherency returning any time soon, as Levi begins to fuck you with his tongue.
With a keening cry, your legs seize around his head, trapping him between your thighs. Your hands shoot to grip his hair, desperate to find purchase; to find anything to help keep you tethered here, to reality, rather than risk floating away in clouded bliss.
But Levi is too committed to tearing down the wall you’d carefully spent the last two weeks building, brick by brick. So as his tongue pumps steadily into your core, he shifts, his fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as he presses you harder against his face. His jaw works furiously and when his teeth graze against your clit, you lose whatever last vestige of control you’d clung onto.
You’re sobbing through clenched teeth but utterly helpless to stop your hips as they begin churning and grinding against his mouth. Levi hums in approval, and throw your eyelashes, you spot the way his pupils dilate, chasing away the cool silver of his irises and replacing them with something black and hungry.
“Atta girl,” he praises between his thrusts, and the vibrations of his mouth against your heated, sensitive flesh nearly makes you drool. “For once in your life, stop fuckin’ thinking.”
He swirls his tongue around you entrance one more time before he replaces it with his fingers, plunging two into your cunt and curling them. He finds that rough patch on your innermost wall with a near frustrating ease.
It’s infuriating to know that the person you know can’t give you what you really need is somehow the only person who knows exactly how to give you what you want. And, judging by the faint smirk pulling at Levi’s lips they latch around that bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs, you know he can see your resolve crumbling under his feverish mouth.
“You don’t even remember why we were arguing, do you?” He jeers between harsh sucks at your clit as you continue to writhe and cry out for more. “You just wanted to cause a scene; make me sweat a little.”
You want to fight back; you want to tell him that he’s wrong, that you’d meant it when you’d said your relationship had run its course, but he won’t give you the space to do so. Not when he presses his face firm against your center and rocks his head side to side, reducing any protestations you might have had to pitiful whimpers.
“You’ve got my attention, sweetheart. Let’s see if you know what to do with it.”
Levi slips a third finger into your core and you come undone. With his teeth grazing your clit in time with each measured thrust of his fingers into your heat, you shatter against the kitchen counter, hard enough that stars dance in the corners of your eyes.
“That’s my girl,” Levi groans as he continues to lap at your sensitive and overstimulated flesh. “You’re always so fuckin’ pretty when you cum.”
His praise, coupled with the way his mouth continues to work at your cunt prolongs the waves of your release, until your legs are trembling against the smooth granite of the countertop, and tears are gathered in your eyes. Your walls spasm weakly one final time and then it’s over, your limbs limp and your brain little more than a puddle of liquid between your ears.
Levi steps back and the heat in his eyes is unmistakable; you know, by the way his eyes turn from steel to molten ore that he wants more; wants to take and take and make you bend to him.
You shouldn’t do it; you know you shouldn’t. You know that what’s happening between you is a manifestation of everything that was toxic about your relationship. Levi, always needing to be in control, who only listened when you were at your breaking point, but could never fully give you what you needed. You, who made far too many excuses, who let him dictate the norms of your relationship because it was easy; being with him was easy, until it wasn’t.
So no, you shouldn’t give in; you should stand firm.
You reach for him anyways. “Levi,”
That’s all it takes; a pleading whimper of his name, your hands outstretched toward him, and Levi pounces. His mouth crashes against yours, and his kiss makes you feel whole even though you know he’s tearing your resolve apart.
And you let him; you let him, because you’d sworn you were going to spend your life with him. You believed, without a moment’s hesitation, that Levi was the one for you — the one you’d share the remainder of your days with, the one with whom you’d create and share a family. It was all you’d wanted, and Levi, to his credit, had assured you it was what he’d wanted, too. At least, he did; once.
And, as Levi’s hands slide under you to peel you off the counter, your legs locking around his waist with practiced ease, you know it’s what you still want; he’s what you want.
For all your desperation to have him, Levi is just as eager for you. He pivots you away from the counter, lips still moving heatedly against yours, only to drop you both to the cold tile floor, spreading you out beneath him as his lips begin trailing down your jaw, your neck. He’s too impatient to carry you to the bedroom, his hands fumbling with the buckle on his belt so he can have you then, now, on the kitchen floor.
“‘S been too long,” he pushes the straps of your sundress from your shoulders, yanking the bodice down to expose your. He groans at the sight of your bare breasts, and idly you wonder whether you made the subconscious decision to forgo your bra when you dressed that morning, in the event you’d end up here, under him.
His mouth closes around one pert nipple and you think it was the best decision you could have made; for nothing could possibly feel as right as the sensation of his hot mouth and silken tongue swirling around your soft flesh, nipping and sucking his devotion into your skin.
Your chest is heaving as his hands stroke down your body, pushing and pulling the skirt of your dress up, exposing the lower half of your body. Your legs are still little more than jelly thanks to the intensity of your previous climax, but you manage to wrap them around his hips all the same, clenching in an effort to bring him closer.
“Fuck,” he growls, and he imparts one final nip at your breast before he pulls back, his hands hurriedly shoving the waistband of his trousers and briefs down his hips, just far enough that he can pull his cock free. Your stomach flutters at the sight of him, ramrod hard, his tip already leaking with his desire.
He’s just as desperate for you as you are hopelessly in need of him.
Your eyes trace back up from where his length stands hard against his belly back to his face. A pretty pink blush has flushed his cheeks, spreading down his neck and chest, and his eyes are glassy with want.
“Levi,” you plead with a soft moan. “Baby, please —“
Baby. You hadn’t called him that often while you were together, but when you had, it was because you’d been so filled with affection — with love — that his name hadn’t been enough.
It was a slip, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by your ex. In an instant his body is covering yours, and he’s moaning into your mouth as one hand ensnares itself in your hair. Between quick kisses, you swear you hear him whisper your name against your lips, before his tongue swipes back in and steals your breath away.
He breaks your kiss to shove a hand between your bodies, gripping himself at his base and giving his length one, solid pump. You shift, spreading your thighs wider, ready to take him and feel whole once more.
He lines the tip of his cock up with your entrance and pauses. Impatiently, you buck your hips forward, trying to take him in, but he twists back just far enough that your wetness can only brush against him, a mockery of how you truly need him.
Levi ignores your howl of frustration. “If you want it, then tell me you’ll come home.”
Your teeth clench hard enough to crack, but you won’t give in; not yet, at least.
He’d been right; you wanted him to sweat a little, and damn if you weren’t going to try and bring him to his knees, if only for a bit. At least until he had you back in the palm of his hand, begging for a crumb of his attention.
So with a gritty determination that borders spite, you lock your ankles against his backside and haul him into you with all your might.
“Jesus — fuck!” His yell echoes off the gleaming stainless steel appliances as you force him fully inside you, unwilling to let him win this battle so soon. He falls forward, an arm flinging out beside your head to catch himself.
Your boldness pays off, for Levi is forced remain still, panting hard and his eyes screwed shut as he adjusts to the sensation of being fully buried in your warmth after so long. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the way the muscles in the arm needed by your head ripples under the force of his restraint. Slowly, his eyes open and the darkness in them makes you pulse and contract around his length, your stomach fluttering in anticipation.
Your mouth falls into a perfect “o” as he begins to move once more. He sits back on his knees, back straight, and his hands come to rest on your hips. He tugs you up just enough that your backside rests against the tops of his thighs, your back forced into an arch away from the floor. His gaze drops to where you’re connected, your base pressed flush against his, and the sight of himself embedded so deeply inside you makes the fingers on your hips tighten.
Slowly, and with careful precision, he withdraws his cock from your heat until only his tip remains lodged in your entrance. His eyes flick to yours and then he slams back into you, forcing your breath from your lungs. He repeats the movement again and again, until your lower lip is wobbling and your fingers are sinking into the corded muscles of his forearms, unable to do anything but cling on as he hammers into you.
The stillness of the kitchen is soon disrupted by the telltale sounds of skin slapping against skin, punctuated by your breathy moans and Levi’s pants. Between the sharpness of his hips and the cold tile of the kitchen floor, you know you’re likely to walk away from this with bruises, but you can’t find it within yourself to care. Especially not when Levi is moving like this, each of his thrusts as punishing as they are calculated.
“What’d I say, huh? No one can fuck you like I can.”
Levi more often than not was a soft lover. Kind; generous; prone to taking his time with you, so much so that it was nearly painful, usually leaving you in a tearful puddle on your mattress, begging him for more.
But now, he’s trying to remind you of what you’re leaving behind by leaving him; he’s punishing you as much as he’s begging you to stay.
The thought makes you moan out, wanton and desperate, and the walls of your cunt clench harder around him.
His hips snap harshly against yours, choking off the sound in your throat. “So come back home,” and though you know he means for it to sound like an order, his eyes betray his urgency, his desperation to confirm that you hadn’t really meant it; that you’d given up on him in a moment of stress and exhaustion. “Quit being a brat and come home.”
You want to tell him you can’t — that the door had closed on your relationship the moment you’d pulled it shut behind you that day, but try as you might, the words will not form. All that spills from your mouth are broken utterances of his name, and even those flatten out into pathetic whines as Levi’s callused thumb finds your clit and begins to work, determined to haul you to the edge of your sanity and shove you over.
Your legs spasm around his waist as you begin your ascent to that sacred precipice. Your eyes are rolled back, your head thrashing from side to side as the pleasure, white hot and searing, mounts within you, that coil in your belly winding tight with every impassioned movement of his body against yours.
Distantly, you feel his hold on your hips tighten, and you can feel his thrusts growing sloppy. You know it’s only a matter of time before one of you succumbs to your release.
He growls your name, the last syllable tapering off in a small whine. “T-tell me — fuck — tell me where.”
Your eyes fly open and meet his, sobering awareness washing over you like a tidal wave.
Only once in the entire course of your relationship, did Levi ask where he was allowed to cum: the beginning. He’d asked the very first time you’d slept with him, legs in the air and over his shoulders, and once you’d made it clear you were on birth control, that had been the end of the discussion. You’d known that if you’d changed your mind, all you’d needed to do was tell him, and he’d adjust. Truthfully, however, you’d not minded the possibility of your birth control failing; you’d been content to let whatever happen, happen.
You’d told him as much, and he’d told you he shared the sentiment.
But that was then; this time, he’s giving you an out. A way to make sure this remains a one-time thing, a moment of weakness between two people too lost and broken to want anything different.
Levi’s eyes widen as the silence stretches between you, and his hips slow until he stops moving all together. The friction mounting where you’re connected is nearly unbearable, and you know the only way to relieve it is to give him an answer — whatever it may be.
This was it; the decision that will make or break you both. For once, he’s out the ball entirely in your court, and whatever comes after this moment of bliss — or frality — ends depends entirely upon you.
“Inside,” you barely manage to squeak, eyes wide and locked unwaveringly with his.
Even Levi hesitates. “Y/N —“
“Inside,” you repeat with slightly more conviction. “Cum inside me, Levi.”
“Your pill?” His hips have already resumed their pace, and you can feel how he’s grown harder at your insistence. But though his body is already moving in accord with your demand, his eyes look ready to bulge out of his skull when you manage the smallest shake your head.
“Inside.” You beg again, and you dig your heel harder into the steely muscle of his backside, limiting how far he’s able to pull his hips back; to pull out at all.
Because damn if he isn’t the only person in the world with whom you could fathom facing the consequences of fucking raw without even the safety net of the tiny blue pills still sitting at your pharmacy, waiting.
“Fuck,” he growls through clenched teeth, a tendon in his neck throbbing. “Fuck, you want me to give you a baby? So fuckin’ be it. As long as you’ll stay.”
He shifts over you, planting one foot on the ground so he can use his thigh to pin one of your legs back and to the side. His hand shoves under your other thigh, mimicking the position of your other leg as he mounts you, his full weight pressing you harder into the floor and keeping you spread wide for him.
Gone was the calculated precision of his earlier thrusts; now, Levi only presses his groin firmly against yours as he begins to rut, each rock of his hips pushing his length impossibly deeper into your slick warmth.
A cracked moan of his name signals that the blunt tip of his cock has brushed up against that spot within you that Levi knows will have you coming apart in minutes. And so, with a feral gleam sparking to life in his eyes, he shifts himself to press the head of his cock firmly against it, his hips rolling hard enough into you that you begin moving in time with him, your hips lifting up from the floor only to be pushed back by him as he works.
His balls are heavy against the underside of your ass as he continues to rut into you. You know he’s close when you feel him begin to twitch inside you, and the anticipation of being filled by him — so hot and sweet — makes the walls of your cunt clench harder around him.
If you thought you were a mess before, the way Levi mounts you on the floor has you nearly screaming with pleasure, so electric and blinding that all sights of the kitchen fade to white, and your eyes flutter shut.
But Levi won’t allow you to check out; not now, not ever.
“Look at me.” His free hand grabs your jaw in an attempt to force you to meet his eyes. You want to give him what he wants, but it’s far too difficult, what with the way yours are glued to the back of your skull, a thin line of drool leaking from the corner of your mouth.
“L-Levi,” you try and plead, to explain. But he has always demanded more of you than you knew how to give.
“Look at me.” His fingers squeeze your cheeks, insistent. “If you want my baby, then you’re gonna look at me while you cum.”
He’s doing it to prove a point — to prove that he still has control over you, over whatever it is that remains between you. And you, helpless against the whims of your heart, let him have it, because you love him.
Fuck. You love him.
You force your eyelids open to meet his punishing stare, and then his lips are crashing down against yours in a fiery clash of lips and teeth as both of you fight to consume the other. But you lose first, breaking your kiss to cry out as your climax slams into you with the force of a freight train, knocking your breath clean from your lungs.
It’s powerful; the most powerful orgasm you’ve had in memory, one that sends your back arching sharply up from the cool kitchen tile below, and pulls a howl of Levi’s name from your mouth.
You’re still straddled among the clouds of your pleasure when Levi succumbs to his own. His body tenses for a moment and then he’s coming undone, his hips giving one last, mighty push before he explodes.
He cums with a strangled groan that he silences by searing his mouth against your neck, his teeth sinking into your skin as he pulses within you.
You don’t try to stop the pleasured grin that forms on your mouth, nor the contented hums which vibrate in your chest as you hold him close to you, savoring the feeling of being warm and full of him.
You know you might regret the decision later; but there, spread out across his — your — kitchen floor, Levi’s full weight bearing down upon you as he continues to flood you with his release, you can’t help but feel that maybe this wasn’t the toxic choice at all. Perhaps this is simply a manifestation of everything that is good in your life.
Good. That’s what you decide to tell yourself as you feel Levi’s lips press sleepily against your neck. This is good; this is right.
Because this — he — is your home.
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620 notes · View notes
chuluoyi · 6 months
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heartbreak hotel
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- gojo satoru x reader
so you're going on a three-day-two-night getaway trip with the one and only Gojo Satoru. the catch? you two have just broken up.
genre/warnings: crack, jealousy, a dose of pettiness, hurt/comfort, fluff, zero angst i promise, suguru being a good buddy to his boyfriend best friend
notes: inspired by a very real life story :))) anyways, it takes place in an au where suguru never left and all is well with our little meow meow catoru the wonderful colored manga panel by the talented @redbluenight! this was so much fun to write (that it turned into a whopping 3k+ word, so sorry) and i even made a playlist while on it ;)
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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"He's intolerable!"
There were many things that led to the end of your relationship with Gojo Satoru, but if asked one word to sum it, then that was it.
When you started this thing with him, obviously you had never planned on how it would end―who started a relationship with that sort of mindset anyway? But if you could choose, you definitely wouldn't want it to end with dramatic shouting match that left you in tears.
Anyways, some things were just not meant to be. You refused to spend your whole life crying over that smug bastard, and so you moved on.
However, if there's one thing you've learned about plans, it is that whenever you already make a foolproof one, the world always has some funny way to mess it up.
Like this time.
"I... I remembered saving for months," you stammered dumbly, staring blankly at Shoko in front of you. The realization felt like a spiritual ascent. "I paid for that damn plane ticket and hotel with my whole saving. I can't just throw them away."
How could you possibly forget about this? This graduation trip that had been planned between your group of Satoru, Suguru, Shoko and yourself for months now. It was meant to be a getaway, a celebration of your most significant achievement after four years of barely getting by on exorcising curses and not dying in the process. This was supposed to be the ultimate milestone celebration in your life.
"Then don't," Shoko replied simply, twisting the cigarette in her mouth. "I'm still going though. No way I'm wasting that money."
"But!" you vehemently hissed. "He will be there. It means I have to see him for three days straight!"
Your cringeworthy breakup happened just barely a week ago. You had sworn in front of Gojo Satoru that you didn't want to see his face again, and yet in less than a week from now, you and him would literally share the same space―again?
"Can't I get a refund?"
"This late? Nah, it's like yay or nay at this point."
You slumped in frustration. Were the gods making you swallow your own words now? You were left with no other choice. Your frugality and tendency to get broke often compelled you to make the decision.
You were going on this trip whether he was there or not.
Meanwhile, on his end, the said smug bastard was brooding, groaning and pacing over the same predicament. Satoru had two options and had weighed them all, and somehow he still arrived at the more seemingly no-good decision.
"I'm going, duh!"
"You are?" Suguru asked with a hint of surprise in his voice. "Well, might be the first time I've seen someone agree to go on an overnight trip with his ex..."
"Hmph. I just don't like squandering money."
Suguru snorted, unimpressed. “Satoru, you have an entire fortune. The airfare is just an amount you'd donate to charity. Besides, you have wasted more than that.”
“Well, I want to enjoy my youth too! I’m going—who cares if she’ll be there!”
He was still miffed, recalling the day your argument spiraling out of control. How could you say those hurtful things to him?
“You never take things seriously—heck, I’m not even sure if you’re ever taking me seriously at all! Satoru, you’re always acting all high and mighty, but you’re just a selfish little twat!”
No way. The last time, he was left in the dust, not being able to say anything in his defense. So now, he would use this chance to be the one who had the last laugh. He was going, because he was 70% sure that you wouldn’t let your hard-earned money go to waste.
And he was right when two days later, he found you at the airport with a bitter scoff upon seeing him.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he moistened his lower lip in that obnoxious way. “Missed me?”
You walked past him, tone lacing with disdain. “Get lost, Gojo.”
He couldn’t help the prickling sensation in his chest when you dismissed him just like that. And the use of his last name—whereas you used to call him with all sort of available pet names? Now that was just low.
“Nah, you can’t get away from me that easily, Y/N,” Satoru sniggered. “You’re going to see me for the next three days, so suck it up and enjoy the sight,” and then the idiot proceeded to pump his fist in the air. “Wooo! Kyushu, here I go!”
Suguru and Shoko merely observed your icy interactions in silence, occasionally exchanging glances from time to time.
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ITINERARY ::: DAY 1 — BEACH DAY @ SEASIDE HOTEL
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After the three-hour flight, the four of you arrived at Karatsu, one of the main highlights in your trip—or back then, one you and Satoru handpicked yourselves.
You swore you still had your heart frozen for him, so you didn’t know what stirred it when you saw him giggling and doubling over in carefree delight, surrounded by those beach girls in skimpy bikinis.
“Hey, handsome~ is this even okay?” one of the girls in pink thong scooted closer to him, asking him with this cheap seductive grin. “Won’t your girlfriend be mad?”
At that moment, you could’ve sworn Satoru threw you a glance from the corner of his eye before replying with a triumphant bark. “What girlfriend? I’m wholly and happily single!”
The hell?
A rush of squeals grated your nerves as they swarmed your ex-boyfriend, prompting you to stalk away in irritation.
Absolutely not. You wouldn’t let this fine establishment be your heartbreak hotel any longer.
Gojo Satoru knew fully that he was petty. He let you see that on purpose just to rile you up, because frankly, he still felt like he didn’t deserve your messy breakup at all.
But when you were no longer in his eyesight, suddenly the urge to entertain these strangers dissipated, and what remained was this hollow sensation in his chest. You not paying him attention somehow made him crave it all the more.
He recalled how you pointed out that playing in the clear waters would be your ideal graduation gift. He specifically recommended this place himself and you had agreed. He remembered planning all of this, dragging Suguru and Shoko too just to make it merrier. To keep that cute smile on your face.
You were supposed to fool around with him in the clear waters of Matsubara Beach, splashing and pulling him underwater.
And yet in reality, he was toying with these questionable women and in your eyes, he was nothing but an irritable twat.
He didn’t see you again until evening, during dinner time. And the sight before him made him want to pull Suguru to the side and trap him inside his unlimited void.
"Really?" Your clear voice rang in his ears, every bit the same as when you would energetically question him with those doe eyes of yours, as you peered at Suguru. "We should go together tomorrow then!"
His eyes twitched.
What has his life come to? Reduced into seeing his ex-girlfriend possibly going on a date with his best friend?
He almost hoped that you'd stage up your pettiness level. It was worse because unlike him, you didn't make this up just to gauge his reaction.
That night, in their shared hotel room, he ignored Suguru completely, as well as silently waiting for him to divulge where he and you were going tomorrow.
"Hey Satoru—"
"Shut up, I'm trying to sleep."
It was obviously a wrong move, because Suguru apparently caught the hint and stayed quiet as a mouse throughout the night.
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ITINERARY ::: DAY 2 — HOT SPRING @ KUMAMOTO
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Or at least, last he remembered, that was the agenda.
Until he saw that only Shoko who was there, idling around at the hot spring area.
"Where are the others? Why is it only you here?"
She shrugged. "Geto said he's going to try the local specialties. Dunno where. As for me, I'm going to enjoy this onsen to the fullest."
Shoko noticed his irritated scowl, and a sly grin crept across her face.
"Heh, jealous much now, Gojo?"
Meanwhile, you and Suguru went to various dessert shops in town as per his invitation. Perhaps he took pity on you because you really seemed not to be having any fun at all after you stormed off from the beach area yesterday.
"Mmm! This is tasty!" you remarked, munching away the three-colored dango happily. You were so engrossed in eating today that you no longer had any room to think about anything else, which was a good thing.
Suguru smiled. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself now." However, he appeared to have something on his mind, prompting you to hum and tilt your head in curiosity.
"No, it's just... so it's really over between you and Satoru?"
You let out a snort. "Yeah. Totally. He's an ass."
"He really is miserable, you know..."
"Nah, he doesn't look like it."
Your friend sighed. "Honestly, what was the argument even about? Both of you usually didn't take it this far."
You didn't want to go back to that topic, really. But Suguru was always the one with cooler head, and after his kindness today, maybe you could spare him a detail or two.
"It's a lot of little things that have piled up, you know," you mumbled. "It's probably just how he is, and I know. But I finally reached my boiling point. Why can't he try to see things from my perspective? Everything that's important to me doesn't seem to matter to him, and relationships need two people, not just one who resigns and the other who does anything he pleases."
And until now, you doubted if Satoru even realized what he did wrong. That was what hurt you the most. Like you were so small in his eyes, like he could toy with you and get away with it.
As you expected, Suguru would understand your point. "So that's how you feel... Yeah, I think I get it."
You thought he would end it at that, but then he went on. "I'm not defending him, Y/N. I think some time away from you would do him good, but later, maybe you can talk this to him? See if he will understand?"
"I already did, so many times." You narrowed your eyes at him. "Not to offend you, but it awfully seems like you're defending him, Suguru, despite you saying otherwise."
"I'm saying this because sometimes we can forget that Satoru is different," he explained sympathetically, and to be honest, you were surprised by his statement. "He is born exalted. He has a hard time comprehending things that come to us naturally. I just think it's a pity if... you can actually fix this, but just because bad communication, you lose the chance to."
Have you properly communicated this to him? Now that you thought about it, most of the times you would just get mad and point at the little things he missed, but never actually told him how it made you feel.
Your mind was still muddled with the fact Suguru had shed light on even after you got back to ryokan where you were staying for the night. The two of you were in for a surprise though as apparently there was a festival happening there.
Everything seemed to spark with glitters. The bamboo lanterns, lights, the gentle breeze. It created an undeniably romantic ambiance, to be honest.
You didn't know when Suguru slipped away, but suddenly, you found yourself alone amidst the visitors and dim lights.
And you found yourself to be immensely lonely.
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Satoru spotted you in all your solitary glory amidst the sea of people in this godforsaken place.
No, actually it was a pretty great inn and attraction, but this trip had been horrible so far, and so he just felt everything was bad.
But at that moment, bitterness no longer clouded his mind, because you were so beautiful, bathed in the glow of the lights that Shoko had forcibly dragged him to see. If it were up to him, he'd spend the last night sleeping his heartbreak away, but now that he was here, he was thankful to see the dazzling sight of you that reminded him once again just what made him hopelessly in love with you.
And why he didn't get his sorry ass back into your good graces faster.
He retraced everything had brought both of you to this point. Your last fight was about what again? Him not telling you any news when he would be back from a mission?
No matter how he thought about it, it was a trivial matter. So what made you mad? He kept thinking, and then he imagined switching places with you. What if you didn't text him at all for three days straight? How would he feel? Oh, he would be despondent, of course.
Now he was starting to understand. He had done that so many times he could no longer keep count. Granted, you would be angry.
Satoru suddenly know how to rectify this. He can make things right. He would be damned if he didn't. He just had to pull you aside, and he was going to when he lost sight you in the crowd.
Okay, now he was frantic, as the longer he didn't see you, the more his opportunity to make amends slipped away. He moved through the crowd, pushing people in the process, earning ire and questionable glares and yet he cared none for it.
He nearly cursed at how his phone kept vibrating incessantly inside his pocket. Begrudgingly, he took it out and almost gasped.
You are calling him.
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Bang! Bang! Bang!
It was so incredibly stupid. You just went to pee for a bit and then somehow got yourself locked in the toilet. It might have been fine, but then the lights unexpectedly went out, scaring the shit out of you.
How could such a upscale inn experience a sudden power outage and have doors that wouldn't budge? It was worse when no matter how many times you punched the switch or banged the door, it refused to turn on or open.
You were trapped. Honestly, it took everything you had not to cry.
And so you did the next best thing aside from forcing your way out. You called your friends. First, Shoko, and then Suguru, but both of them somehow didn't pick up the call even after you had called them three times each.
That left you with one possible person left. In your frenzied mind, it didn't even register in your mind what you were doing as the line connected and the last person you'd call on the other side answered.
"Satoru," you shakily breathed out, almost crying—or were you already? You didn't know as you focused on his sharp intake of breath, most likely surprised at how rattled you sound.
"Y/N? What? What is it?"
"I—" you wheezed, hating how helpless you sounded, yet still forced the words out. "I'm locked, it's dark—and it's just so—help! Help me please! I tried getting Shoko but she didn't—"
"Okay, sweetheart, calm down. Calm down, okay?" Satoru's voice brought you some comfort and it helped to reduce your tears, missing how he slipped up by calling you with his usual pet name for you. "Tell me. Where are you?"
"The women's restroom… I think it’s in the east wing."
"I'm coming, okay? Don't panic. I'll be there. Just stay on the line."
You heard his ragged breaths as he muttered several "coming through!" and "excuse me!" from where he was. It made your heart lurch. Despite the spiteful breakup, he rushed to your aid as soon as he realized you were in some kind of trouble.
Was this okay, to let your relationship end just like that?
"I'm outside." And then you heard his voice, much to your relief. "Y/N? Are you there?"
"Yes!" you shouted over the steel door.
You then heard how he rummaged to get the door open, and faintly hear him cursing it. "It won't open."
You wanted to sob, but then Satoru told you with an absolute tone, sounding so sure and demanding that compelled you to comply. "Get away from the door. As far as possible. Take cover."
Oh God, was he going to do what you thought he might do?
...he did. The next thing you knew, the door—and much more than that—was destroyed, and a rush of cursed energy was everywhere. After the blast subsided, you instinctively made a run for it, and you didn't know how, but you ended up stumbling into him.
Satoru caught you in his firm embrace.
"It's okay. You're okay," he cooed, whispering in your ear gently, urging your shivering body to calm down. "You're safe now, Y/N... I'm here. You're safe."
There was always something about your trembling form that made him want to tear down everything and anything in his path just to make you feel secure. And there was always this sense of rightness whenever you snuggled in his arms. Both desires clashed in a contrasting need and want and Satoru could do nothing but keep you close to him, torn between the two.
He kept his hand on your spine, and you clung on him, burying your face in his broad, sturdy chest.
Nevermind the fact that you technically broke up with him. Nevermind that ever since this botched trip started, it was the first occasion in which the two of you held a proper conversation without spewing bravado or sarcasm.
Afterwards, he led you away from the site, and he figured it would be best to go somewhere quieter rather than the festival, and so here you were, at the deserted lounge.
You had calmed down for the most part, and slowly you felt heat in your cheeks. In hindsight, you could've tried using cursed energy to blast the door too, why didn't you think of that earlier?
And yet, unaware of your internal musings, Satoru's thoughts were occupied with another matter entirely, and blame it on his insensitivity—he chose this moment to drop it without hesitation.
"I want you back," he declared, void of any hesitation. "I'll be better, I promise. Those things you hate—tell me, and I'll make sure not to repeat them again."
He wasn't the sharpest when it came to picking up on your feelings, but Satoru vowed that if it bothered you that much, then he would do his best to avoid doing it.
But you... you were still trying your best to grasp the situation. Amidst the plot twist you just experienced tonight, his blatant proclamation was the last thing you expected so you only managed a "What?"
He held your gaze, eerily serious. “I don’t want to break up. It’s hell. We can—I can still fix this.”
He looked sincere, unlike the usual empty promises he’d give you after you went off on him. And suddenly, you understood.
“…really?”
“Yeah. Just give me another chance. I’ll prove it to you,” Satoru said, visibly impatient now. “I won’t give you up. This literally is the fight of my life right now.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle, despite yourself. If there was anything that you had learned tonight, it was that apparently you and him were still salvageable.
“And how will you prove it?”
“Just so you wait and see, sweets. I’m gonna relight your feelings!”
It was beyond corny that he took a line from your favorite song. And both of you burst into a laughter at the sheer silliness of it.
You sighed, but this time of relief, in stark contrast to your earlier sighs that afternoon. You were giddy as a smile perched on your lips. “Fine. Let’s give this another shot.”
Satoru felt the tension in his shoulder melt with your answer. A genuine, wide smile emerged from the bottom of his heart and lit up his face.
“Now, this whole trip has been kind of terrible so far, don’t you think?” He made a brief pouty face for a moment before reverting to his mischievous grin His remarkable expressiveness—reminiscent of a child's, in your opinion—never ceased to fascinate you. “I have a pretty good idea where we should go next.”
You furrowed your brow in confusion. “What do you mean? Tomorrow’s our last day.”
“No freaking way!” he exclaimed, whipping out his phone to launch the travel agency app. “We are going to redo our graduation trip. This time just the two of us!”
There were many things that led to the end of your relationship with your dork of a boyfriend, but as you reflected on it, you realized that there were also many reasons for you to stay together, especially when he reached for your hand and held it firmly in his grasp.
You were unable to contain your excitement and bubbling with melodious giggles that he adored so much as he whisked you away from Kumamoto in favor of the last bullet train to Kyoto, where your long-awaited true vacation would begin.
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Epilogue
“I told you this was a horrible idea. I fucking told you.”
"Can you blame me? Dude was about to throttle me in my sleep."
"Geto," Shoko scowled, her disbelief at his simple answer evident as she gestured wildly with both hands towards the wrecked lavatory, emphasizing her point. "Look—now that he had gone and done it, we're the ones footing the bill for the destruction of property!"
Gojo had blasted the washroom with a freaking Red. And the innkeeper promptly held both Shoko and Suguru responsible since their roommates were captured on CCTV and had vanished without a trace.
Suguru rubbed his neck sheepishly. "I genuinely thought it was a good idea. I didn't expect Satoru to go overboard though," then he threw her a stink eye. "And hey, you were complicit in this too!"
Shoko mumbled a string of curses as she pulled out her phone, snapping some pictures of the undeniable evidence of Gojo’s doing, and then made a call. Suguru frowned.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm reporting him to the headquarters!"
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jaeyunverse · 6 months
Text
chapstick challenge
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pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader
genres: fluff, suggestive
wc: 1163
warnings: making out
summary: the chapstick challenge is just an excuse for you to get heeseung to kiss you. thankfully, he’s more than happy to oblige.
note: i don’t have the motivation to write but i didn’t wanna let the blog die either so here’s another repost :)
masterlist
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“Heeseung!” you popped cheerfully and poked his cheek with your pencil. “Can I ask you something?”
The boy looked at you suspiciously. “What do you want?”
“Do I always have to want something from you?” you asked, your bottom lip jutting out in a pout.
“You’re being weirdly nice and unnecessarily upbeat at 8:30 in the morning so—” he shrugged— “yes.”
“Okay, yeah, I do want something,” you deadpanned, dropping your charade immediately. Heeseung rolled his eyes and you shoved his shoulder playfully in response. “But you have to promise you won’t say no.”
“No.”
“Boo!” you complained. “You’re such a party pooper!”
Refraining the urge to roll his eyes again, Heeseung reminded you, “The last time you made me promise to not say no, we ended up in the goddamn police station.”
“That’s on you for running too slow.”
“You forgot to pick up the bag with the fucking spray paints, Y/N!” he exclaimed incredulously. “They’re expensive!”
“I didn’t mind ditching the bag if it meant our parents remained uninformed about what happened that night!”
Letting out a long sigh of exasperation, Heeseung said, “Just tell me. The free period will be over soon.”
“Okay,” you declared and dragged your chair closer to his desk. Gesturing for him to come closer, you whispered in his ear, “It’s a TikTok challenge.”
The disappointment on Heeseung’s face could not have been more evident. “I thought you had something interesting to tell me. This was so lame.”
“C’mon!” you urged. “I swear it’ll be fun!”
“You know I’m not into TikTok.”
“Are you opposed to the idea of kissing me too?”
“Oh.” His demeanour changed immediately and he leaned towards you with a curious expression on his face. “Tell me more.”
“You’re such a dork,” you teased.
“I’m down for anything that involves kissing you,” he admitted shamelessly and shrugged. “Maybe this will finally persuade you to be my girlfriend. What’s the challenge?”
You snorted. You and Heeseung were definitely more than friends, but you weren’t exactly dating either. He wanted the two of you to be together, but you weren’t inclined to get involved with him—he was moving to another country for college in a few months.
It was already hard for you to come to terms with the fact as a friend. You weren’t sure you’d be able to cope if you began dating him.
Heeseung tried to convince you that you could make a long-distance relationship work, but you knew better than that. It wasn’t realistic—the timezones weren’t compatible at all and you were both way too career oriented to be able to commit to someone who lived on the other side of the world.
So, you just flirted with each other without ever putting a label on whatever you were. A few platonic makeout sessions here and there, a few not-a-real-date dates to make memories, but never girlfriend and boyfriend.
“I apply a bunch of different chapstick flavours and you try to guess them.”
Heeseung grinned mischievously. “Oh, I love what you have in mind.”
“Meet me at our usual spot during lunch break?” you asked, your lips mirroring his contagious smile.
“Can’t wait.”
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“Will we be recording the challenge?”
You raised an eyebrow and looked at Heeseung over your shoulder. Tightening your grip on his hand as you tugged him along faster, you said, “I wasn’t planning to. Do you want to?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’ll just get self-conscious.”
You laughed. “Are you saying you’re camera shy?”
“I’m saying I would rather focus on the challenge!” he exclaimed, the tips of his ears turning red with embarrassment.
“Relax.” You chucked and let go of his hand. “I’m just messing with you. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
Fetching an eye mask from the pocket of your hoodie, you handed it to Heeseung and told him to put it on. He did, and you uncapped the first chapstick.
After putting it on, you grabbed his tie and pulled him closer. His arm immediately wrapped around your waist, his hand finding its way to your jaw and cupping it gently.
Then, his mouth was on yours. You were a little surprised by how easily he was handling you even though he couldn’t see anything. It made you realise just how well he knew you—how much you’d gotten used to being with each other.
Heeseung tilted his head to the side for better access and ran his tongue over your bottom lip, sucking on it to get a better taste of the flavour you had applied.
“Strawberry,” he guessed without bothering to break the kiss.
You hummed. “You’re good at this.”
He smiled against your mouth and kissed the corner of your lip before pulling away. Removing the eye mask, he asked, “At guessing flavours or at making out?”
“Guessing flavours,” you said with a smirk and slung your arms around his neck. “I’m gonna need to conduct more experiments to reach a conclusion on that regard.”
“Oh, yeah?” he teased, running his thumb up and down the curve of your waist. “Go ahead and apply a second flavour then.”
You did, and this time, Heeseung wasn’t sweet nor gentle. He pretty much had you pinned against the wall, your fingers weaving through his hair and tugging at the strands.
The kiss was deeper and messier, as if the boy couldn’t get enough of you. Could never get enough of you.
His tongue forced its way into your mouth and you knew he wasn’t holding back anymore. He nibbled on your bottom lip, sucking and licking till you lost sense of everything else but him.
Out of breath, you broke the kiss, but Heeseung, it seemed, was nowhere near done. He placed his lips on your neck, allowing you to get some much needed oxygen into your system.
“That’s not where the chapstick is,” you whispered. You wanted his mouth back on yours. Now.
“Chocolate,” he muttered, sucking hard on the underside of your jaw. You hissed in both pleasure and pain. “It’s chocolate.”
Panting, he detached his lips from your skin and leaned against the wall next to you. You glanced at him and noticed that his tie had come loose.
Not only that, but part of his shirt had also somehow untucked itself and his hair was sticking in all directions. What you loved the most about his dishevelled appearance, though, were his swollen lips.
“Bingo,” you confirmed, resisting the urge to pull him against you again. “It was chocolate.”
Heeseung smirked. “Do I get a reward for passing the challenge?”
You didn’t answer immediately, instead fixing your uniform and hair. He watched you intently with dark eyes.
On your way out of the alley between the two secluded buildings at the back of your school, you said, “Why don’t you meet me back here after class and find out?”
The mischievous glint in Heeseung’s eyes was all the answer you needed.
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yeagerfate · 9 months
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big spoon or little spoon?
characters: miles morales (earth-1610), miguel o’hara, hobie brown, gwen stacy, pavitr prabhakar
warnings: none lol
notes: i didn’t proofread this because i’m exhausted from a bunch of irl stuff, so i’ll come check this out later and see if i need to fix anything. don’t really like how this went at all but i need something to post so oh well <3 might delete this later kinda depends. also i got my first writing request which i am very excited about hehe
Honestly, it all really depends on Miles’ mood. If he’s had a good day, then he’ll definitely be spooning you. However, if something went wrong, he will be seeking your comfort and attention. One of your most memorable moments with Miles’ was spooning him for the first time. He’d completely flunked an exam because he was out on a really dangerous mission the night before. In shambles, Miles had told you that he hadn’t slept at all and fell asleep during the test. He was really nervous to tell his parents about it because he didn’t know what his excuse would be. The last thing he wanted was for them to think he was out at some party, or just being irresponsible. He slept like a baby after you consoled him, his head resting on your chest as you ran your hand up and down his back with the other holding his head. Although it was a bittersweet moment, you enjoyed it, and the way Miles had drooled in his sleep had you trying not to wake him up from your sweet giggling.
Miguel’s in denial, but he’s a little spoon. The feeling of your hands running through his wavy hair at the end of a stressful day at work is something he’s grown addicted to. He’s a bit ashamed of it, as he thinks he should be the one holding you, but you quickly snap him out of it. Miguel finds solace in your arms, and for a couple hours it’s nice to forget about all of the emotional turmoil from work. Though, if you ever ask for it, Miguel will absolutely hold you. Sometimes, it’s nice to feel your head resting on his muscular chest and your warmth on him. In the mornings, it’s especially hard for Miguel to get up. Your arms are just so comfy and snug, and he feels like he’s at home when he’s with you. Lyla makes fun of him for it, calling him a “simp” (he doesn’t know what it means), but he doesn’t care. The way your face lights up when you feel his toned arms wrapped tightly around your face is something he’d never want to give up.
Hobie is a big spoon. He’s not big into snuggling, as he likes his personal space, but once you get into it, you get into it. (He is very affectionate with the people he cares about, though!) He’s found that the most comfortable position would be with your back against his chest and his arm wrapped around your stomach, his face hidden in your neck sweetly. It can get a little irritating, since Hobie is a big snorer. He also has a warmer body temperature, so in the summer, you’ll have to resolve to holding each other’s hands. It’s both endearing and frustrating, but it’s for Hobie, and that makes it worth it. During cuddling, the bonnet he wears tickles your neck. It’s hard to hold in the automatic laugh you have from it because he’s trying to sleep. Cuddling with Hobie is messy, fun, and enjoyable. It’s just so… Hobie.
Gwen, despite her average height, is a big spoon. She likes the feeling of being able to just hold and protect you. Gwen has lost so much, and so she feels she has to make sure you’re safe at all times. One of the way she does this is by holding you close to her her neck, your head resting on her shoulder as she runs her hands down your back. It doesn’t matter how tall you are. Even if you’re a foot taller than her, you’ll still be held by her. However, Gwen occasionally has nightmares, and so when she wakes up she’d like to be embraced by you. When she has her head pressed against you chest, and she can hear the sound of your heartbeat, it really makes her feel better. It reassures her panicking brain that you’re alive, you’re here, and you’re fine. It’s a soothing feeling, one that’s hard to describe. All she knows is that she really treasures it.
Pavitr is very enthusiastic about all types of physical affection, and that includes cuddling. He is a big spoon, though he doesn’t mind trading places at all. While you’re cuddling, he loves to tell you about how his day went. If you know that he’s spider-man, he’ll tell you all about the adventures he went on with his friends. Sometimes, he’ll even rant about Miguel, which is very amusing. However, if you don’t know that he’s spider-man, Pavitr will take a much different approach. Instead, he’ll ask you to tell him about your day. He asks you if you saw anything you liked at the stores nearby, or if you tried any new food. He likes to take note of these revelations because they make for great gifts. Pavitr is a very talkative cuddler, but on tiring days, he’ll be out like a light after 5 minutes. It all depends on how his day went.
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yikesmary · 6 months
Text
BOYFRIEND DUTIES — choi seungcheol x reader
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summary: after a night out with your friends, your boyfriend, seungcheol tries to take care of a drunk you. as he is helping you get ready for bed, you start mumbling about an interesting topic
notes: yes hello everyone I haven't updated in so long and I come back with this subpar writing 👍. I am still on hiatus technically, but I missed writing and thought that this would be the way I would ease my way into writing so to speak. hope you guys enjoyed!
join my taglist!
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"Cheol..." you trailed off, clinging onto him for dear life after he carried you out of the car and on the way into the house.
It was one of those rare nights where you, your boyfriend, and your friends were all free on the same night. Arranging a time when all 14 of you could hang out was hard, considering all of you had separate lives to live and jobs that had different schedules.
Which was why all of you decided to spend your day together by drinking, eating, and singing karaoke. You, being the lightweight you were, didn't take much before you were drunk and screaming with Soonyoung in the mic, singing to whatever song he decided to play even if you didn't know the song.
By the end of the night, you were plastered, stumbling all over the place and Cheol had to guide you in walking when you both left the karaoke place.
And that's how you found yourself in Cheol's arms, your cheek resting on his chest while he tried to unlock the door with the key while you were in his arms. Hearing Cheol's steady heartbeat, you found yourself slowly dosing off.
"Hey, baby, you can't sleep yet. We have to get you ready for bed," your boyfriend said, gently waking you up.
You whined at his interruption, burying your face into his chest, and shook your head no. You felt the rumble of his chest when he chuckled at your actions.
He managed to carry you all the way to your bedroom and placed you gently down on the bed. Cheol turned to go, but you sat up and grabbed his arm, and looked at him, your sleepiness was suddenly gone and you were now aware he was going somewhere.
"Stay?" was all you could muster from your drunken state.
"I'm just going to get a few things for you, I'm not going anytime soon," he told you.
You squinted at him, suspicious, before you let him go and watched as he walked out of the bedroom. He didn't take long and he walked back in with a glass of water and a pack of your makeup wipes. "I saw that you used up the last of your makeup wipes so I opened a new one for you," he said, placing down the glass of water onto the nightstand and walked towards you.
Grabbing the makeup wipe, he tried to remove the makeup the best he could without having to press too hard. You moved a bit, but he was able to get most of the makeup out.
Throwing the makeup wipe in the bin, he reached over to the nightstand to grab the water and handed you the glass to drink.
As you were drinking, Cheol once again exited the room and went into your shared walk-in closet. By the time you drank the entire glass of water, he came back out with pajama pants and one of his shirts you declared to be your sleeping shirt.
"Why didn't you get dressed yet?" you asked, grabbing the clothes and you gave him the empty glass.
"I wanted to make sure you went to bed before I did anything," Cheol replied.
You started tearing up, and you didn't know what triggered it, his thoughtfulness or the fact you were still kind of drunk, but it was probably the mix of both.
"Are you okay? Why are you crying? Do you feel sick?" Cheol started panicking once he saw your tears.
“It’s just… I don’t deserve you,” you said, tears starting to stream down your face.
“That’s not true! If anything, I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you,” he said, crouching down to kiss you on the crown of your head.
“But I’m the one who’s drunk and you have to take care of me while you could’ve easily spent more time with the guys,” you sniffled.
“You were having fun with our friends who we haven’t seen in a while. I wasn't going to leave you alone," Seungcheol softly told you.
"I love you so much," you told him.
"I love you too,"
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