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here2bbtstrash · 1 year

Text

it's sweet (explicit)

genre: a fluffy lil sickfic

pairing: taehyung x reader

summary: you forgot to call out sick from your dick appointment, but he stays anyway.

word count: 4.3k

contains: no smut just fluff????? new year new me 😎 but as this is fuckbuddies to maybe-lovers and there are certainly a few references in here to sex, because of who i am as a person, it's enough that i'm tagging it explicit anyway lmao. but this is all fluff! reader has the flu, tae is a sweet sweet boi and takes care of her, it's all a bit sappy~ 🤧

A/N: happy new year!!! and a very happy belated birthday to my capricorn prince 💜 this soft little idea got stuck in my brain and wouldn't let go, and i had a lot more fun writing it than expected. plus i feel like i only wrote tae as a menace in 2022 (sorry to tae 👹) so i had to right my wrongs with this one lmao. it was a nice interlude before i jump into LDOMLT ch11 (the final chapter 😭) - i hope you all enjoy and that your 2023s are off to a pleasant start!!!

read on AO3!

~*~

You genuinely enjoy being single.

With your last relationship officially in the trash, you’ve found yourself settled into a comfortable peace. There’s no man in your life to mess up your plans, to force you to have to compromise or share anything, to suck up your energy and domestic labor like some kind of emotional vampire. You can do what you want, whenever you want, and you have a reliable rotation of both sex toys and fuckbuddies to keep you physically satisfied when the need arises.

Being single, you have come to learn, is fucking great.

Except when you get sick.

A knock at your apartment door drags you out of your DayQuil-induced slumber. You move to sit up with a sniffle before letting yourself drop back into your veritable nest of blankets on the couch, struck with the immediate recollection: it’s just the food you ordered. You’d specifically put in a request that they leave it at the door, but maybe the delivery person is just being nice and letting you know it’s there.

Except then they knock again.

And ring the doorbell.

“Jesus,” you groan to yourself, aggressively enough that you’re nearly sent into a fresh coughing fit, but you manage to choke down the spasm in your lungs as you drag yourself to standing. You cross the short distance from your couch to the front door, sure you look like death warmed over, and swing the door open.

At first, you’re certain it’s the DayQuil fucking with you.

“Taehyung?”

The corner of his mouth pulls up as he blinks sweetly at you, expressive almond eyes peeking out beneath untidy dark hair— extra fluffy today, like he’s just washed it and waltzed out of the house without any styling. His clothes tell the same story, a plain gray hoodie and joggers, creased a little like he’d just pulled them off his bedroom floor, though everything looks fresh off the runway on him.

As your eyes trail down his frame, you take in the container of ramen you ordered, held easily in one of his large hands, his long fingers hooking over the side.

His presence is typically a welcome one, particularly on Friday nights like tonight, but those are circumstances where you tend to be a little more… put together. So why is he here tonight?

“When did you start working for D—”

The food delivery service name dies on your tongue as your thoughts finally catch up with your mouth. He’s here tonight because it’s Friday, and this is what you do on Fridays. He’s here because you didn’t cancel. You’d had the thought in a drowsy half-awake state between naps, then had promptly rolled over and pressed your face into the pillow, telling yourself you’d remember to text Taehyung when you woke up.

Which of course, you did not. And so here he is, having clearly intercepted your delivery. And, it now occurs to you, having to witness how absolutely godawful you must look in your stained sweatpants, your hair surely a mess from a day spent napping on the couch.

“Oh fuck,” you mutter, quickly crossing your arms over your baggy t-shirt, suddenly very aware of the fact that you’re not wearing a bra. Why that matters when you’re standing in front of a man who regularly leaves hickeys all over your tits, you’re not sure, but in this moment it somehow feels like it does.

“Tae,” you take a step back, trying to keep him out of your germ radius. “I’m so sorry, I forgot to text you. I’m super sick, I think it’s the flu. You should go.”

He frowns a little, his eyes jumping from you down to the takeout container in his hands. “This is like, barely warm.”

That makes you smile a little despite yourself. A very Taehyung greeting.

“Yeah, well.” You roll your eyes. “I pay twice as much so it can take an hour and be cold by the time it gets here. Makes sense, right?”

His dazzling smile at your sarcastic remark only heightens your own self-consciousness, and you quickly extend a hand for the container.

“Sorry to make you come all this way. Hopefully next week I’ll be back to normal.”

Taehyung nods, yet makes no move to hand over the soup he’s currently holding hostage. “You should rest. Let me heat it up for you.”

You can’t help but wonder what he expects to happen when he crosses the threshold, and that makes you heave a sigh, then quickly bury the cough that chases after it into the crook of your elbow.

Thankfully your voice doesn’t give out when you manage to answer him. “I’m serious, Tae. I’m not—” you pause, considering how to phrase it: desperate to be railed? “—you know, the way I usually am on Fridays. Nothing’s gonna happen tonight. Except maybe you’ll get sick.”

He shrugs, like there are worse things. “I get it. But you shouldn’t be alone.”

At least he’s been sufficiently warned, you think to yourself, and then you relent, leaving the front door of your apartment swung wide as you step back across the living room to promptly collapse onto the couch again. You bury your face in the blankets with a muffled groan as you hear Taehyung shut the door behind him, then make his way into the kitchen.

As is typical with any man that enters your kitchen, you expect to have to walk Taehyung step-by-step through how to do everything. But, to your surprise, he asks no questions: he seems to find a good-sized pot and figure out how to work the stove all on his own, and you can hear him humming softly to himself as he goes.

Truly a credit to the male species, you think to yourself with a bitter laugh.

You collapse back against the cushions, a little too aware of the fuckbuddy in your kitchen to be able to drift off to sleep entirely. Nevertheless, you still find yourself slipping into a haze, your eyes dropping shut just to snap open again at the tap of a bowl being set down on the coffee table in front of you.

Your eyes widen as you sit up and stare down at your ramen, only to find two halves of a soft-boiled egg staring back up at you. You’d ordered from your favorite place in the city, which is easily the best ramen you’ve had in your life, but you know those fuckers charge extra for an egg. Which is why your cheap ass never orders one.

But here one is. So that means…

Taehyung drops down onto the couch next to you before you can even finish compiling the thought in your brain, but he must be able to read the look on your face. “Oh, do you not like eggs?”

“I— no,” you answer quickly. “I mean yes. I mean, I like them, I just… Thank you.”

You glance up in time to see him shrug, his mouth twisting a little, like he’s suddenly made shy by his own kindness. “Gotta get your protein in,” he offers casually, and you laugh over the steam rising up from your bowl.

He keeps a tentative cushion’s distance away from you, but you can feel his eyes watching as you take your first sip of the rich, warm broth. While you slurp it down, you tell yourself not to get greedy with Taehyung’s time: you expect this will be it, that with his act of kindness done for the day, he’ll get to his feet and be on his way. As soon as your front door slams shut behind him, he’ll probably be pulling up his text messages with one of the many other options that must be available to him.

You try to ignore the way that thought makes your stomach twist, to just eat your damn soup and not think about it. It’s fine. It doesn’t matter.

But to your surprise, Taehyung leans forward and snatches the TV remote off your coffee table with a triumphant sigh before slumping back against the couch, like he’s settling in. “Do you wanna watch something?”

You shake your head as you take another sip before answering. “You really don’t have to stay, Tae. I can appreciate that I’m not a lot of fun to be around tonight. And obviously you didn’t come here to watch me eat ramen.”

Already starting to scroll through your streaming services, Taehyung runs his free hand through his hair with a knowing, slightly horny smile. “Depends on what you mean by eat ramen.”

You nearly choke on a noodle, but he’s otherwise distracted, mouth dropping open a little as he clicks into one of the options.

“Oh, I know what we can watch.”

When he pulls up A Charlie Brown Christmas and promptly presses play, you can’t help smirking. “Christmas? You’re, what, five days late?”

Taehyung’s mouth opens again, like he’s going to say something, and then he just smiles that same self-conscious smile. “Ah, I just like the music.”

His long fingers splay out in front of him, miming along to the opening melody while he adopts the faux-cool expression of a jazz pianist. You hide a giggle in another sip of broth, and he quickly shrugs the impression off, crossing his arms over his chest as if to keep his limbs under control.

“And it’s cute,” he adds, voice halfway between shy and sentimental. “The little tree.”

It occurs to you now that you’ve never seen Taehyung so… your brain can’t find the right word. He’s just different tonight.

You nod as you slurp up a strand of noodles, and you can’t deny that he’s right as the movie plays on. It’s been years since you’ve seen it, not since you were a kid, but it’s just as enjoyable now, somehow timeless. You find yourself smiling softly as you finish your meal and settle back against the couch, tugging the blanket up to your chin.

All at once, Taehyung jumps up, and you watch dumbfounded as he silently scoops up your dishes and disappears off to the kitchen. When you hear the tap switch on, your jaw drops in sheer disbelief, and you sit up again, peeking over the back of the couch to get a glimpse of him: he’s pulled on the dishwashing gloves you keep tucked next to the sink and is making short work of not just the bowl and the pot, but the takeout container too, and your various other sick-person dishes you’d regrettably let pile up. Humming to himself along with Vince Guaraldi, like it’s something he does every day.

Your head spins as you drop back down against the cushion. What is happening? Did you take too much cold medicine?

That thought only reverberates louder in your brain when he returns, still humming the last few notes of the song. This time he chooses to settle in right beside you on the couch, as if entirely unconcerned about the contagious virus running rampant in your body— he just pulls you into his side, one arm wrapped over your shoulders, fingertips casually starting to play with the ends of your hair. Like it’s that easy.

You glance up at him, shaking your head a little, and Taehyung looks down to meet your gaze. “What?”

“This is just…” An incredulous laugh cuts off the end of your sentence. It’s hard to believe you’re looking at the same person. This can’t be the man who wraps his hand around your throat as he spits into your mouth, who will keep you in his bed for hours until you’re crying from overstimulation, who fucks you so good you can hardly walk the next day.

“I didn’t expect you to be like this,” you admit, pairing the words with a finger driven gently into Taehyung’s ribs. He squirms a little. “You’re… sweet.”

Taehyung’s lips part, and then he pauses, clearly considering how exactly to answer you. His mouth turns up soft at the corners, hesitant, as if he’s embarrassed to say what comes next. And then he says it. “You didn’t seem like you wanted sweet.”

The words settle over you, offered quietly in the low, rich tones of his voice, and as you keep gazing up at him, it strikes you: he’s not wrong. If he’d pulled this cozy domestic housewife act on you any earlier, on a normal Friday, you would’ve sent him packing without hesitation.

That thought makes you a little sad.

You tuck back in against Taehyung’s side, trying to refocus on the TV screen as you snuggle in under the blanket. Pressed close like this, you can feel the sturdy thud of his heartbeat in his chest, at a rhythm not dissimilar to yours.

“Well, I won’t tell anyone,” you breathe, and you swear you can hear him smile.

His touch lingers as the last few minutes of the movie play on: slipping from the ends of your hair to trace over the fabric of your shirt, then sliding further up to dip beneath the collar of it. The talented fingers you’ve become well-acquainted with work their magic in a new way, pressing firm circles into the muscles of your shoulders, muscles you didn’t realize were pinched so tight until he starts to work them open.

“Fuck,” you murmur, shifting a little to allow him better access as he continues. “That feels so good.” You can’t quite help the laugh that flutters out after your words; it’s certainly not the first time he’s made you say them.

There’s a small huff of breath from Taehyung beside you, and then his hand moves up to cup the back of your neck and give a gentle squeeze. It’s a comforting motion, and just arousing enough to make you sigh a note, your eyes briefly dropping shut. When they flutter open again, you realize the movie has ended, that he’s looking down at you, a knowing smirk toying at his lips.

“Don’t start,” you warn, unable to keep your voice entirely serious. “I meant what I said, I’m tapped out for the night.”

Taehyung raises his palms in the air, as if to claim his innocence, and you find yourself instantly missing the heat of his hand on your skin. “All I was thinking is that I kinda want dessert. Too tapped out for that?”

“I’ll never say no to dessert,” you admit with a soft smile. “I think I have ice cream in the freezer.”

Something glints in Taehyung’s eyes at your words. All at once he untangles himself from you and, rather than standing up and walking the long way around like a normal human, chooses instead to vault himself over the back of the couch, as if to get your freezer as fast as possible. You tip back against the cushions, momentarily overcome with laughter, and thankfully, it doesn’t trigger a cough attack.

After a second, you cocoon the blanket around yourself, then get up to follow after him, dropping unceremoniously down onto one of the barstools tucked on the far side of your kitchen island.

Taehyung glances up, clearly surprised, then continues trying drawers until he finds the silverware and retrieves two spoons.

“Just want to keep you company,” you say by way of explanation as he hands you one, and you reach down to pry off the lid of the pint of chocolate ice cream he’s set down on the counter. It’s only as you glance up again that you realize he’s grabbed something else, too, and is continuing to rummage through your cupboards. “Wait, what are you doing?”

There’s an innocent look on Taehyung’s face as he rights himself, the handle of a pan clutched in one hand. “I found something when I was looking for the ice cream. It’s my favorite. And I thought it might make you feel better, too.”

“Uh huh,” you intone, though your mouth is already starting to tick up, endeared. “A completely selfless act, I’m sure.”

“Of course it is,” he answers with an over-exaggerated wink, flipping the pan cooly in his grip. You squint at the bag as he thuds it down on the counter beside him, then sets the pan on the stove and flips on the burner beneath it.

Hotteok. You’d completely forgotten you’d even picked the bag of frozen sweet pancakes up a few weeks ago, that you had purposefully tucked them into the back of your fridge for a particularly good— or bad— day.

“Chef Kim,” you ask, feigning the tone of a journalist conducting an important interview as you fish your phone out of the pocket of your sweatpants. “Can I interest you in some background music, or do you prefer to cook in absolute silence?”

Taehyung glances back over his shoulder at you, his grin nearly too big for his face. “How about Sinatra?”

You raise one eyebrow at the admittedly unexpected suggestion. “Frank or Nancy?”

He pauses for a moment, as if considering. “Either.”

It’s only a few taps, and then Come Fly With Me is floating out of your Bluetooth speaker, and Taehyung is singing along to himself as he drops a frozen disc onto the heated pan, occasionally turning back to deliver lines to you with an extended hand.

You roll your eyes as you drag your spoon through the top layer of softening ice cream, sucking it into your mouth in an attempt to hide the grin that’s spread over your face.

By the third song you find yourself humming along too, trying not to put too much strain on your still-weak throat. The kitchen has started to smell of sweet, toasted dough as Taehyung works diligently at the stove, and he finally flips the burner off before turning back to you, a plate in each hand and a thick pancake stacked atop each plate.

“Sous chef, will you please apply the ice cream?” he asks, eyes wide and blinking as he sets the dishes down.

Quickly playing along, you nod as you begin to scoop a healthy amount onto each plate. “Yes, chef!”

“And sous chef, do you, uh… have any chocolate sauce?”

You bite back a laugh as his roleplay falls apart as quickly as it began. “It’s in the fridge.”

Taehyung promptly turns and pulls the door open, eyes searching the shelves before he finally spots the dark brown bottle and lets out a triumphant hum. He nudges the fridge shut again with his hip before striding back toward you.

“Plating is key,” he muses. You answer with an appreciative nod and a giggle when he uncaps the sauce, then leans down close to the plates, feigning intense focus as he drizzles each dollop of ice cream with stripes of chocolate.

Once his artful design is complete, he steps back, his tongue toying at the corner of his mouth as he spins one plate to admire his handiwork.

“What do you think, chef?” you tease, and he nods once, decisive.

“It’s perfect.” He glances up, shooting you a grin that knocks the breath from your lungs, and you try to collect yourself as he nudges a plate toward you, encouraging you to take a bite.

You carve your spoon through the pastry, right down the middle where it’s stuffed full of sweet brown sugar syrup. The flaky layers pull apart at the impact, warm enough that you can see steam rising off of the golden dough. You pair a small piece of pancake with a wedge of ice cream on your spoon, then bring both into your mouth at once, and the contrasting mixtures linger on your tongue: hot and cold, sticky sugar chased by rich chocolate. It’s so good that you can’t help but make a soft, appreciative noise as you press your hand to your mouth and chew.

“Do you want to know something?” Taehyung’s voice pulls your attention back, and you look up at him.

“What?”

“Today’s my birthday.”

There’s a split second where you wonder if this is another imagined scenario, and then your eyes widen as you take in the look on his face and realize he’s entirely serious.

“Wait, Taehyung, really?”

He nods once, bringing a spoonful of ice cream to his lips.

“I-I had no idea,” you stammer, suddenly feeling like an asshole. His birthday, and he’s here waiting on you hand and foot, while you haven’t so much as said a word of felicitations. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, he’s waving away your apology with his spoon, then proceeding to answer around his bite of food. “It’s not like I expected you to know. I don’t really make a big deal of it.” He shrugs. “I tend to… I don't know. I get sort of melancholy this time of year. The holidays, my birthday. It’s a lot all at once. A lot of pressure. To be happy. To have everything figured out.”

Nodding slowly, you let his words fully wash over you before you respond. “I get that,” you finally murmur, working off another piece of hotteok. “Nobody ever talks about it, but I feel like birthdays are kinda weird as an adult. You have enough of them and it just starts to feel like a day, you know? Not special.”

“I usually find myself just hiding out, waiting for it to be over,” Taehyung admits.

You take a second to think back. “Yeah. I didn’t even do anything on my birthday this year.” A self-pitying laugh rises up before you can stop it. “Honestly, this whole year was such a flop. I’m glad it’s nearly done.”

Taehyung makes a face like he can’t disagree. “Hey, sometimes that’s life.” He pauses, brow furrowing slightly, then reaches a palm across the table. “Can I play a song?”

“Go ahead,” you offer, pushing your phone into his hand. You scrape your spoon along your dwindling dessert, and haven’t even managed to bring the assembled bite to your mouth before the music changes— from one Frank Sinatra song to another, this one with a driving blues rhythm.

Taehyung is already on his feet, hips starting to sway. “Ah, come on. You have to dance with me.”

He’s closed the distance between you before you can even protest, his hands smoothing across the blanket still wrapped over your shoulders.

“Let me take your coat, ma’am.”

You shift off the stool and onto your feet with a smile as he unwraps the blanket from around you and tosses it toward the back of the couch, missing by at least a foot.

“Why thank you,” you tease, feigning some kind of Transatlantic lilt to your voice that makes him really laugh. “Such a gentleman.”

Taehyung turns to face you again, and then you feel his large hand pressing to the small of your back, warm even through the fabric of your shirt, and your heart stutters a little. You take his other hand in yours and let him lead, let him pull you all the way in until you can turn your head and press your cheek to the firm plane of his chest.

Frank Sinatra croons on about how you can’t let life get you down, and suddenly there’s a weight settling in the pit of your stomach.

“I feel bad, Taehyung,” you admit, and when you glance up at him, he’s looking right back down at you. “That you’re here with me tonight.”

“Why?” he asks, like he really doesn’t know.

“Because,” you shake your head. “I don’t know. There’s a million better places you could be. I can’t even give you birthday sex.”

“I wouldn’t have stayed if I didn’t want to,” he answers simply, then leans back, guiding you under his arm for a spin.

A little giggle bubbles up in your chest, catches on the first syllable of your reply as you twirl. “A-are you sure?”

Taehyung nods, thoughtful, when you come back to center again. “This is a good reminder that… I like taking care of people. It’s been a while since anyone’s let me.” The hand holding yours gives a gentle squeeze, and you can’t help but squeeze back.

“Well, thank you for taking care of me,” you answer softly. “You did a good job. Pretty sure I’m on the mend already.” You blink up at him through your lashes, and the way his eyes are fixed on you makes your heart squeeze, too.

It’s nearly overwhelming, taking him in like this, close enough that you can see every stray beauty mark kissed over his handsome features. Fluffy-haired, big-dicked Kim Taehyung— who would’ve thought?

Taehyung’s adam’s apple jerks in his throat as he swallows, and you feel a sudden rush of heat all over, one you don’t quite think you can blame on a fever. It hardly even occurs to you that the two of you have come to a complete standstill now, barefoot in the middle of your kitchen, Taehyung’s palm pressed to your back, the fingers of your joined hands now shifting to lace together.

“Taehyung,” you’re breathing his name before you even realize it. “Would you… want to stay here tonight? Like, sleep together, literally?”

The smile that flashes over his face is nothing short of brilliant. “Yeah, okay.”

Your voice dips a little lower, teasing, as you smile back. “I really do think I’m feeling better, so. Maybe in the morning I can take care of you, too.”

Taehyung’s fingers brush the length of your jaw, then reach up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as you continue.

“I’ve got this spray that makes my throat totally numb, so.”

He pauses, his mouth so close to yours that you can feel his breath ghosting over your skin, but he can’t quite keep a straight face. “Fuck, why is that so sexy?”

You’re laughing against his lips when he kisses you.

#taehyung fluff #taehyung x reader #taehyung x y/n #bts fluff #bts x reader

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muddyorbsblr · 10 months

Text

a sizing mishap

See my full list of works here!

This story (and in turn this entire collection) wouldn't have happened if I weren't inspired by this comment from the amazing @lokischambermaid. Thank you for the thot!! 💖🫡

Summary: You hand Player #6 his uniform but it's the wrong size…

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: 18+ | smut-ish at the end (minors & pearl clutchers, don't try me. not today); language; side-eye worthy behavior from less than minor character at the beginning [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: trust the process, and let me know if you caught on to the hints 😉

It was slowly and surely getting a touch too stuffy in this tiny room you were stationed in for the day. You knew that it was the misfortune that would befall the newbie on the crew but it didn't ease your frustration any. No amount of guzzled water or time spent holding your handheld fan down your shirt could help the fact that the entire room felt like you were slowly being cooked sous vide.

And as if your predicament wasn't uncomfortable and mentally taxing enough, you had to do an inordinate amount of moving about from scouring through the piles of jerseys and shorts to hand off to the various players because most of them hadn't even bothered to fill out the order forms with their size weeks prior to today. To make things even more interesting, some of the men thought themselves charmers and attempted to flirt with you while you were already under enough undue stress.

Your therapist was definitely going to hear about your exchange with that former tatted up boybander who answered your question of "Size, Sir?" with an overconfident "More than big enough for you, luv."

At least you were proud of your deadpanned response of "Somehow I highly doubt that" that made him grumble out his actual answer of "Medium". Another uninterested look that carefully examined his torso and legs and you made the executive decision to hand him some sets in a size XS instead.

"This isn't a Medium. Can you even read?" he snapped at you, waving the uniforms in his clenched fist.

"It's your size, sir," you shot back, your tone still deadpanned and unwavering despite the temper he was showcasing. "If you don't believe me you're more than free to try it on behind that curtain there. If I'm wrong then I will gladly assist you and hand you a set in the next size up."

It only took a few minutes for him to stomp behind the curtain, try on the uniform, and then stomp all the way out of the tiny room without another word. Guess you handed him the correct size after all.

You had a few minutes to breathe after that first wave of players walked through, allowing you to prepare yourself for the sweat-inducing task of moving about the piles once again when the next batch came in and told you they didn't input their sizes, either. At this point, you jokingly told yourself that you'd outright kiss the first one who actually had a size next to their name on the sheet.

"Name?" you called out when you heard the door open again, already facing the surplus of extra unlabeled uniforms to thumb through the piles.

"Douglas," the woman answered, chuckling when you let out a sigh of relief finding a size next to her name on the chart. "I take it some of my teammates didn't give you their sizes in the form?"

"Try nearly all of them so far," you huffed to confirm. "It's been so bad that I was telling myself that I'd kiss the first person who actually had a size next to their name on this damn thing." You waved the printed papers of the chart around to punctuate your point, making her laugh at the absurdity of it all.

"Well I think you'd be better off saving that promise for the one coming after me, assuming that he filled out the sizing form. Trust me, you'll probably want to pass on lil ol' me. Then again he might not be up for it considering he does have a very pretty lass that--come to think of it, from what I know about her, kind of looks like you…?"

"Now I'm intrigued," you teased, turning around to the comparatively small pile of labeled uniforms and handed her the one with "DOUGLAS" written on the top. "There you go. Good luck out there."

"Thanks. And good luck to you too it's like a brazen bull in here, bloody fuck."

You waved her off, already holding your tiny fan down your shirt again and just trying to take deep, slow breaths to try and lower your body temperature somewhat. The sound of the door opening again nearly had you whining to any deity listening to give you at least fifteen minutes to cool down before having to deal with another conveniently forgetful soul. "Name?" you all but sighed out.

The effort it took for you to fight back a face splitting grin at the name and buttery smooth voice that reached your ears should have gotten you some form of accolade in the realm of sheer Herculean level restraint. "Hiddleston."

You perused the charts, pursing your lips to keep yourself stoic upon seeing that the field beside his name was, in fact, not blank. "Just a moment, Sir." There was a very faint mumbling coming from the towering man a few feet from you while you retrieved his uniforms from the pile of labeled bundles, an expression nearly as stoic as your own on his face when you handed him the parcel. "There you go."

He gave you a soft smile, holding you captive in an oceanic gaze that you had to practically pry yourself away from and at least pretend to busy yourself with the paperwork on the little desk.

Suddenly all the bravado you had facing all those hubristic men from earlier melted away, as if karma had literally deflated it out of you as some warped retaliation for your earlier behavior. He didn't even have to do fuck all anything and you could feel your pulse skyrocketing and your body overheating that had nothing to do with the current climate of the even more seemingly cramped and overcrowded room.

But then he spoke.

"Erm…I truly hate to be a bother but…this isn't the correct size."

Your eyes snapped up to meet his, showing him your visible shock. "That--That can't be. This came straight from the suppliers, they're the ones that labeled these all."

"I understand that but…these are a size Small. I distinctly remember leaving instructions for y--For my partner to input a Medium."

Another look through the chart had the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. "It…it says Small," you choked out, visibly struggling to meet his eyes again. "I'm--I'm so sorry, let me see what I can do, I'll make a few calls and-and--"

"No no no, hey hey…" he called out, placing the parcel back on the table before placing his hands on your arms in a gentle hold. "Calm down. It's alright, just breathe." He started running his hands up and down your arms, the motion calming you almost instantly, before sneaking a glance at your little nameplate on the table. "Y/N, just breathe for me, sw--Breathe for me, alright?"

The motions of his hands began to guide you through your breathing, feeling your racing pulse begin to mellow down. "I'm--really sorry about that, it's just I'm new here and this is gonna get me in some serious trouble if I end up fumbling and blundering like--"

"You're going to be alright, it's not that big of a deal, really," he told you in a reassuring tone, squeezing your shoulders lightly before letting go and picking up his jerseys and shorts again. "It's only one size down, I'll make it fit." His free hand twitched toward you briefly, some bizarre part of you instinctively itching to reach for him in turn, but your more rational mind decided against it and sat back on your little seat.

"There's something off about you," you rambled, shuffling the papers of the chart once more and reaching for a pen. "You're way too understanding and mild-mannered for this industry."

He hesitated before taking the pen from you, holding your hand in his as he asked, "Would you mind if I tried it on? Just to be sure." There was the slightest twitch in his eye, as if he was about to wink before he made the split second decision not to, and all you could do at that moment was look up at him with the most foolishly dumbstruck look on your face.

"N-Not at all. Go--Go right ahead, there's a curtain over--Ohh okay then that…works…too," you mumbled to near incoherence as he proceeded to undo the buttons on his thicker overshirt, shrugging the garment onto the floor before giving his light blue button down the same treatment.

Get a hold of yourself. Pick your jaw off the ground you're embarrassing yourself, you hissed inwardly, reminding yourself that you were about to be in the presence of a lot of shirtless men this entire weekend throughout all the practices and promotional events, not to mention the game itself on Sunday. But none of those guys look like this. Look like a literal god among men.

All the while he never broke eye contact with you, holding you hostage in a stormy gaze as if daring you to look away while he effortlessly pierced through the plastic that contained the jerseys. You did your best not to fixate your eyes on the sinewy, well-defined muscles that were moving fluidly with every minute movement of his hands, holding his gaze with all the confidence you could muster.

He made a show of unfolding the shirt in slow, deliberate movements, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in a smirk when he noted the visible movement of your neck from a strained effort in swallowing and calming yourself. It was only then that he put the shirt over his head in one fluid motion, the fabric stretching taut across his chest and threatening to burst at even the most minute flex of muscle.

The internet is about to have a field day and I am about to get kicked out of this committee, you thought to yourself. And on your first year, no less. You should've known it was a bad idea to agree to the invitation just because your boyfriend encouraged you to.

"It's not too bad, is it?" He swung his arms around to test his range of motion, before raising his hands above his head in a stretch, causing the borderline illegally tight fabric to ride up on his abdomen, exposing his lower stomach.

You could barely hold in your composure as you choked out, "It looks…manageable." You held out your pen in his direction again. "You just uhm…need to sign on the chart."

He approached you with a certain sway to his step that vaguely reminded you of a wolf stealthily assessing its prey, fingers slowly brushing across your skin as he took the pen from your hand and uncapped the pen by placing the cap between his teeth. When he finished signing his name on the chart, his eyes never left yours as he recapped the pen and placed it back into your hand, his large palm engulfing your entire hand in a warmth you couldn't even bother to complain about despite the stale humid air of the room.

"There you are, darling," he rasped. "No harm done. You won't get into any trouble with your superiors because of me, don't you worry your lovely little head." You watched with bated breath as he turned around and bent at the waist to pick up the discarded shirts, putting that ass that the internet shamelessly thirsts over and stares at for hours on end mere feet before your naked eyes.

I have no idea if my job is cursed or if it might just be the best thing that ever happened to me, you thought helplessly to yourself, watching as he stood back upright and turned again to face you, giving you a small wave as he exited the room.

You fought the urge to hold your tiny fan down your pants after that exchange.

The sound of your phone chiming with a new message brought you out of your stupor, a smile finding its way onto your face as soon as you saw your boyfriend's name on the screen.

"Are you alright? Have you eaten since you got there? Make sure you're drinking lots of water, I hear it's going to be sweltering today. I love you and I miss you already, goddess."

Just the mere thought of how he'd taken the time to type out the message despite how busy you knew he was had you biting your lip to try even slightly to prevent yourself from letting out a stream of giggles like you were back in school all over again. You could feel the ache in your heart as you began to feel your own yearning beginning to intensify after his message.

"I just have a few more people to hand off their uniforms to and then I'll go get some food. Thank you for checking in on me. I love you and I miss you more than you know."

The rest of the day was thankfully a bit more merciful towards you. Once you'd handed out all the uniforms and put all the surplus jerseys and shorts into a merch pile for audience members to purchase before entering the stadium proper and perhaps have the players sign at the end of the game, the hours up until training was over were spent outdoors coordinating with press photographers, making sure that security was on peak alertness in case anyone managed to sneak through the cracks, and confirming that everything was in place for some hot sauce challenge that would take place tomorrow.

You also made a note to take one of those bottles home since you were running low. Only if you could, of course.

When the fields were empty and you were locking down the press room for the night, you heard someone walk into the otherwise quiet room. "I had the most interesting conversation with some of the other players today." The sound of the man's rich, velvety voice had your heart violently pounding in your chest. "About you."

You took a few steadying breaths before you addressed your unexpected visitor, your back still turned to him as you finished writing down the names on the media passes for tomorrow morning. "And what is it that I can do for you, Mr. Hiddleston?"

The sound of his footsteps slowly approaching you had a thrill running up your spine, making you abruptly stand to attention when you felt large hands rest on your waist. "One of them told me about how you were tempted to…what was it again? Ah yes…you said something about kissing the first player that actually had their size on the chart?" You bit back a smile, looking out the window to double check that nobody was lurking and trying to peer into the room as he wrapped his arms around your waist. "Now Douglas told me that allegedly it was her, and she passed it on to whoever came next. And if memory serves me right…I believe that would mean that immensely fortunate player was…myself."

He'd leaned in so close at this point that his lips were grazing the shell of your ear. "This is highly unprofessional," you mumbled, barely able to contain your smile now.

"I don't care. I've been thinking about you all day." Fingers ghosted up the length of your spine while his nose traced a line from the shell of your ear down to a very specific weak spot on the juncture between your neck and shoulder. You went nearly limp in his hold the second you felt him press a soft kiss to that same spot, his free hand deftly undoing the ribbon you had holding your hair up before weaving his fingers through your hair. "Take this as me officially breaking character. I've missed you, goddess."

The groan he let out against your skin turned you into putty in your boyfriend's arms. "One day," you giggled out. "You lasted barely one day."

Over the last few years since you'd gotten together, whenever you were both signed on to a project, you tried to commit to this bit of "staying private and professional" throughout the course of the project, so as to not draw too much attention to the fact that you were involved. It had come to the point where it collectively slipped the mind of the general public that you two were actually still, in fact, happily together and borderline maddeningly in love. And it also granted you both a comfortable enough sense of privacy, which you were immensely grateful for and neither of you ever dared take for granted.

On previous projects, he would 'break character' within the course of a few hours, and you had a feeling that the only reason it took him nearly a day this time around was that you two weren't around each other as much due to him practicing for the game, and you running around the entire facility.

"I have to be honest, though," you started, letting out a squeal as he abruptly turned you around in his arms to face him, pulling your body flush against his. "For a second there I thought this would be a first and I would break character. This afternoon." It was a good thing that he was currently holding you upright with the way he was looking at you through hooded eyes, his chest heaving through that one size too gloriously small shirt; if you were left to stand on your own, your knees would've buckled the second he touched you. "If you kept up that goddamn striptease for even two more seconds I might have caved."

He smirked at you when you a tiny yelp slipped through your lips as he placed his hands on the backs of your thighs and easily lifted you into his arms. "I'll have to try a bit harder next time," he whispered, walking until you felt your back make contact with the wall. "I believe you owe me a kiss, sweetheart."

You crossed your hands behind his neck, leaning in to give him the quickest peck to his lips. "There you are," you teased, letting out a stream of giggles against his lips when he grabbed the back of your head and pressed you against the wall before pulling you in for a deeper kiss. He let out a desperate sounding moan into your mouth as his arm around you tightened and his fingers tangled into your hair. As if he couldn't possibly get enough of you. Or as if you hadn't seen each other for months.

"Where are you staying?" he rasped when he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours as you both caught your breath.

"I have a room that I'm sharing with 2 more members from the committee--"

"That won't do," he cut you off, pressing his lips to your jaw and kissing a trail down your neck. "You're staying with me. I already despise the mornings that I wake up away from you, it's cruel and unusual punishment if I go to sleep tonight alone knowing full well that you're here in another room." You stifled a moan when he proceeded to suck a bruise onto your neck, already anticipating the questions from your fellow committee members in the morning when they catch sight of it.

"I uhh--ohh fuck--I'll need to get my things," you stammered, leaning your head back and arching into his kiss to expose more of your neck to him. "My clothes--"

"You won't need them, darling," he retorted, smirking against your skin when you let out a squeak trying to feign protest against his words. "Say yes," he pleaded between kisses. "Stay with me." He kissed his way up to the corner of your mouth. "Don't deny me the simplest joy of getting to wake up with you in my arms."

Those were the words that did you in. "Okay, okay yes," you breathed out, your moan muffled by him once again capturing your lips in a kiss that threatened to steal you of every last breath you had left.

Neither of you seemed to care in the slightest if you crossed paths with anyone on your way to his suite, Tom adorably refusing to let your feet touch the ground as he carried you down the halls. "There was one more thing that some of the players mentioned…Something about you being able to assess their sizes and giving them their correct fitting instead of the size that they told you they were?"

Dammit, the boybander told on me, you grumbled to yourself, meeting your boyfriend's gaze with your worst attempt at an innocent smile. "Aaaand…what about it?"

"You've known my measurements since they sent in the roster form," he started with a knowing smirk, causing you to purse your lips and basically out yourself that you knew exactly where he was going with this.

"I did…"

"Did you intentionally input the wrong size?"

Biting your lip before letting out a fit of near uncontrollable giggles told him more than a spoken admission ever could. "I might have…"

"And I would also be right to assume you had everything to do with the swapped out trousers in my bag?"

Your giggles got louder, practically giving the entire floor a homing beacon signal to where you were, take one look at your current positions, and give them a vivid idea of what type of noises they would expect to hear throughout the night.

"I had to do it," you managed to say between laughs. "For Tumblr."

You held on to him a bit tighter when he went to unlock his door, pressing the keycard to the scanner and balancing you on a single arm, and giving him the perfect opportunity to kiss yet another particularly sensitive spot behind your ear. He let out a seductively dark chuckle against your skin when your giggles had morphed into moans.

"Naughty little goddess," he rasped, tracing his lips along your shirt's neckline as he laid you down on the bed and then proceeding to kiss a path down your clothed torso until he reached the hem of your shirt. His hands traveled up your body, working the fabric up and over your head, kissing and licking and biting at a leisurely pace at every sliver of skin that was exposed to him.

Once the shirt was up to your raised hands, he hovered his face above yours, capturing your lips in another languid, decadent kiss that had you sighing against him as a warm contentment washed over you. You'd only realized now how much you actually missed him since having to leave your home yesterday to come here and begin preparations with the rest of the committee. All day you were so caught up with finalizing every meticulous detail you had control over it was almost like your mind didn't allow you to feel how much you were yearning.

"What am I going to do with you, my darling little menace?" he murmured against your lips, your combined moans filling the room as he licked into your mouth, your tongues meeting in a tangle long practiced and perfected over the years. You quickly tossed your shirt aside to free your hands and pull him closer, giving him the perfect leeway to unclasp your bra.

"Whatever you want," you gasped once you both pulled away, the silliest grins on both your faces as your hands fumbled for the hem of his jersey. "I love you and I've missed you more than you know."

"Shouldn't have said that, my love," he growled, pushing you back down on the bed so that your back was flat against the mattress, a near filthy moan escaping you when he hooked your legs around him and rolled his hips into yours. "There's a lot of pent up energy in me." He proceeded to summarize what he'd spent the day doing, punctuating each item with a thrust of his hips. "Running." Thrust. "Dribbles." Thrust. "Shooting drills." Thrust. "Endorphins are running amok. You understand, don't you, darling?"

"Let me repeat myself," you said breathlessly, crossing your ankles and pulling his hips to yours and making him let out the most delicious stuttered moan. "You can do whatever you want."

A/N: Suddenly those reblogs I did of 'one look and they'll know' are making sense, huh? 😉😈 Welcome to the Soccer Aid 2023 Hiddles collection! As of writing this Author's Note, there are going to be 5 stories in this collection, the next one being 'a tale of ice baths and hot sauce' which covers the Elementals challenge video, and I'm already working on it as we speak. 🫠

everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-zie @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @sarahscribbles @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @dangertoozmanykids101 @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @anukulee

#tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x female reader #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston imagine #muddyorbs writes

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short-honey-badger · 4 months

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Peppermint Tea 4

Goodness this has been so fun to write! I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

Mihawk let's out a lil attitude!

@writingmysanity @kenkenmaaa @foggyturtleknightangel @browneyedhufflepuff @djbumblebee @goth-mami-writer

Mihawk leaves the next morning. After dinner, you'd fluffed out some bedding and parked the warlord on your couch. It was large enough to fit him comfortably, though he did have to contend with an over eager Hank. He woke before you, lips curling at the sound of your soft snores when he slipped into your bedroom.

You wake when he cards one warm hand through your hair, eyes fluttering open to the delightful sight of Mihawk once more. However, you see that his coat is on and his boots cover his feet, so you know that he must be leaving. It saddens you, but you still smile in joy at seeing him. You reach for him, and Hawkeye gives in with a roll of his eyes.

His knee settles on the bed to leverage him as he leans over you, warm hand going from your hair to cradle your cheek. He leans in and kisses you, a simple press of his lips to your own. A hum catches in his throat when you tilt your head and purse your lips against his own, kissing him back even in your inexperience. He thinks of you going to bed last night, staying up, and reading the romance books you thought he didn't catch you taking back to your room. Mihawk is curious as to how far you'll let him push.

Dracule pulls away enough to speak, “Open your mouth for me, sweet thing,” he orders, and you shudder In his hold even as you do as you're told.

“Good girl,” he breathes and then seals his lips against your own once more, tugging and lapping at your swollen lips. Dracule's facial hair scrapes across your sensitive skin, and you whimper when you feel the heat of his tongue lick into your mouth. The kiss is like nothing you've ever experienced before. Nothing all the stories in the world could prepare you for.

Mihawk seems to be able to know when you need to stop, for he pulls away to gaze down at you with a smug smirk as you struggle to catch your breath, “That's not fair,” you grumble and fall back into the bed with a huff.

Dracule rolls his eyes at you again and leans down to kiss your cheek, “You'll get there, Darling,” he teases and then pulls away fully to stand tall, “However, I must go. There are things that I must attend to,” his mind casts off to Gloom Island, and the trouble that the pink haired menace causes every time he is gone for an extended period of time.

You sigh dramatically and roll out of the bed, “Yeah, alright. I'll walk you to your ship.”

Hawkeye follows you out of the bedroom, and Hank meets the two of you at the door. The big dog whines for pets, and you crouch to give him some before opening the door. Hank bounds put, and the two of you follow the excited hound outside to wallow in the grass and do his business. You leave your best friend to do what he does best and follow Dracule through the forest that surrounds your home until you arrive at the shore.

“That's your ship?” You demand, tone dropping in doubt and surprise. You look at him, brow cocked in disbelief, “It's tiny!”

Mihawk sneers at you, “My ship has served me well for decades, little girl. You shouldn't presume such things until you know what they are capable of,” it's the first time that he had gotten even the slightest bit ill with you, but this is his ship, his home away from the castle.

The change in attitude has you shrinking in on yourself a bit, and snow builds up around your feet. You feel guilty, but you hadn't been making fun of his boat! You promise.

Before you can make a fool of yourself even more, a warm hand cups the back of your neck, and you are pulled forward to thud against Mihawk's chest. He kisses the top of your head and wraps an arm around your waist

“That was uncalled for, dear one,” Dracule murmurs softly. He had seen the way you had flinched away from him, the temperature falling, and the uncertainty that had pooled in your eyes. He must remember that you knew little about him, didn't even know that he was a warlord, someone to be feared by all least the government sick him after them. He dearly wanted to keep it that way, and snapping at her for something so small was not the way to keep you close to him.

“I'm sorry. I wasn't picking fun,” Your voice is muffled, but Mihawk still hears your sad little explanation. It makes him feel a little guilty for snapping at you.

“I should have known,” He assures you quietly, and an idea comes to mind, “Would you like a book on ships and seafaring?” He had noticed a couple of similar tomes lying about your cottage, but many of your books were water damaged, making it difficult for you to get through them.

You jerk back to look up at him, excitement pooling in your eyes, “Really?” It's been decades since someone had gotten you a gift. The thought of Dracule being the one to be the first makes your stomach do flips.

Your disbelief has his lips curling in a soft smile, “Yes, really, Darling. Would you like more than one?” He questions, and by the way your face lights up, he knows the answer already.

“Ah, no, thank you. I don't want you to have to go through too much trouble for me,” you deny to his amusement. The warlord rolls his eyes, hand tightening on the back of your neck in admonishment.

“None of that, I want you to be honest with me, dear,” Mihawk orders. His thumb ghosts back and forth along the side of your neck, calming you from any nerves that want to rise up at his request.

Dracule watches as you come to a decision, cheeks pinking cutely as your eyes flick away from his, “Can I have three?” You finally ask. He huffs at your stubbornness.

“Fine. I will bring you three,” Mihawk agrees, though he is already thinking about other things that he could get you. He could finally put his Berri to good use.

Hank barking at a nearby crab brings the two of your back to reality. Mihawk sighs and drags you in for one last kiss before he steps back. He needed to leave now before he ended up staying far longer than he intended. He pats Hank's shaggy head when the dog lopes up to him.

“I'll be back, Darling,” he assures you, and you nod, hands wringing in uncertainty as your friend boards his ship. You watch from the shore as he pulls up his anchor and loosens his sails to catch the wind.

“Be safe!” You call before he can get too far away, and Mihawk raises a single arm to let you know that he heard your farewell. You watch him sail away from your little island with a heavy heart, but it fights with the joy of knowing that Mihawk will be back. Soon, he is little but a speck on the horizon, and you turn away to go back to your cottage, Hank bouncing around your feet.

#fanfic #one piece #reader insert #fluff #dracule mihawk #mihawk x reader #one piece mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #op mihawk #opla mihawk x reader #opla mihawk #mihawk x y/n #mihawk x you #reader is a devil fruit user #Peppermint tea #sugar daddy dracule Mihawk

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runnning-outof-time · 1 year

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This Storm Will Also Pass | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: no - written for @toms-cherry-trees 1.5k celebration

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: Tommy manages to calm down (Y/N) after he finds her hiding and riddled with anxiety during a late autumn thunderstorm.

Warnings: descriptions of a panic attack (anxious!reader), fear of thunderstorms, mentions of war/air raids, mentions of breaking and entering

Word Count: 1883

A/N: congrats on 1.5k Mars!! I’m so happy I’ve met you on here!! This idea came to me during a thunderstorm (it was a spring one, but it reminded me of the fall) and I decided to incorporate it into the story…I hope that it passes as autumn enough. Enjoy! :)

A/N 2: this is also dedicated to one of my very first supporters on here @a-lil-bit-nuts … I saw that you were looking for a Tommy x anxious!reader where he’s calming her down and wanted to write this for you. I hope that those feelings have since passed and you’re doing well, B! Sending much love your way!

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

The halls of Arrow House were dark, even though it was the middle of the day. Tommy had decided to leave work early due to the nasty looking storm that was hanging overhead. It was shaping up to be a rough one, and he didn't want to get caught driving in the middle of it.

Frances had told him that (Y/N) hadn't come out of the master bedroom since the clouds turned dark. He instantly knew why she'd decided to sequester herself in what she deemed to be her 'safe space'.

"(Y/N)?" he asked softly as he knocked on the door, wanting to announce himself before he entered the room. He heard nothing in response, which he expected, so he opened the door and stepped into the room before gently closing it behind him. "Where are you, (Y/N)?" he called for his wife, noticing that the bed was empty and that the covers had been stripped from it.

He furrowed his eyebrows as he looked around the room, noticing that both her vanity chair and the chaise lounger were also empty. He was starting to think that maybe she'd moved to another room when another loud crack of thunder rang out, its intensity making the floorboards vibrate. A shriek came from the conjoined bathroom as the thunder continued to rumble, making Tommy turn and head into the room.

(Y/N) was laying in the bathtub with the covers from the bed hiding everything except her head. She had a white-knuckle grip on the duvet and a panicked look in her eyes.

"It's me, love," Tommy said softly, not wanting to startle her with his sudden presence. She was already looking in his direction, but he knew from prior experiences that she could just be looking through him. "I'm sorry that I wasn't able to get home before the storm started," he apologized as he slowly moved over to the tub.

"I...I did everything I was supposed to do, Tommy. I grabbed the blankets, I...I went in here; there's no windows in here...I got in the tub and I've been covering my head, I have, but when I heard you say my name I thought that maybe, I thought that..."

"It's ok, love," Tommy cut her rambling statement off, kneeling down next to where she had been hiding, "you're doing good," he offered some words of encouragement as a soft smile formed on her face.

"I heard the loud bangs and ran right in here. I feel so bad, I didn't even ask Frances if she wanted to join, oh goodness, is she safe?" (Y/N) continued, a panicked look present on her face as she mentioned the older woman, "I completely forgot to get her and make sure she'd be safe, oh my goodness, is she ok?" her words came out quicker than before as another round of panic washed over her.

Her breathing quickened and she began to scramble, fighting with the blankets she was wrapped in to try and get up from her position, something she was terrified to do, but would continue with in order to make sure Frances was safe. She had just rested her shaky hands on the edge of the tub as was attempting to lift her equally shaky body up when Tommy stopped her actions.

"Frances is fine, (Y/N)," he told her, his voice soft but firm, hoping to show her that there was no need to panic. “Slow your breathing down, you need to calm yourself, yeah?”

"She's in a safe spot?" (Y/N) asked, her eyes wide as they hooked onto Tommy's, ignoring the second half of his statement as she focused on the well-being of the older woman.

"There's no danger," he told her, shaking his head slightly for added effect.

"But...but all of the bangs...the house was shaking. Tommy, I...I tried to get in here as quickly as I could. I thought there was...I thought someone was coming in. Thought they were attacking the house," she shakily exuded her words, her anxiety still getting the best of her.

Tommy opened his mouth to speak but a loud crack of thunder sounded before he could get a word out. The shrill, loud sound made (Y/N) shriek in fear and grab onto Tommy's arm; immediately clinging onto him for dear life.

"They’re...they’re still, still here, Tom," she shuddered out, burying her head into his arm as her free hand waved around behind her, blindly trying to find the blankets so that she could cover both of them.

"No one's here, love," Tommy softly told her, "we're not being attacked. There's a thunderstorm happening," he continued, explaining the situation in its entirety.

(Y/N) slowly lifted her head as she heard his words. "But...but the bangs were so loud. I thought for sure that someone was trying to get in, or that an air raid was happening. I did what I was supposed to do, Tommy. I got into this safe room and made sure I was in the bathtub," she explained things from her point of view, making sure to inform him that she'd taken the necessary steps in order to stay safe.

"It's one of those late autumn storms...they’re always worse," Tommy continued to speak calmly, "just gettin’ the last few ones out of the system before the snow comes."

(Y/N) didn't answer right away. Instead she kept her eyes locked with his and searched them, trying to find any hidden lies; anything that would betray the words he was saying.

Tommy watched her as she did this, seeing the panic slip slowly from her features. He waited; watching as her breathing got slower with each second that passed.

Some time passed before (Y/N) finally spoke: "we're...we're not being attacked?" she asked, her voice much calmer now than it was before.

"No, love. It's just a thunderstorm," Tommy answered her.

"And we're ok?" she asked another question.

"Yes," he answered definitively.

"Ok," she breathed, nodding her head as then she took a few more calming breaths.

"This storm will also pass...just like all of the others have," he assured her, running a soothing hand up and down her arm as she loosened the hold she had on his bicep.

"I was so scared, Tommy," she recounted the beginning of the storm then, "I started panicking the second I heard the thunder. I really thought that someone was attacking the house," she shuddered at the thought, now feeling relieved that it had just been another storm.

Her thunderstorm induced panic attacks had been getting better with each one that rolled through. She'd carried this fear ever since she and Tommy lived on Watery Lane. It started during the Great War, when the threat of air raids would occur and send the city into a panic. Then she happened to be home when Campbell and his men broke into their house, so now she worried that any unreasonably loud sound could also be a potential intruder.

Her reaction was always much less severe when Tommy was home, but there were days - like today, when he couldn't be...and she couldn't decipher whether it was a storm or an attack by herself.

The two sat quietly in the bathroom for some time. Neither did much talking. (Y/N)'s hold would tighten on Tommy's arm each time that the thunder rumbled, but her reactions to it were much more mild compared to what they were earlier. Having him with her truly helped to calm her down.

"Do you think the worst is over?" (Y/N) asked once it seemed like the past few rumbles had been softer compared to what they were earlier.

"I think it's passed," Tommy answered with a nod, happy to see the slightest smile form on (Y/N)'s face.

"Can we go see?" she asked him, finally releasing her hold from his arm.

Although Tommy wouldn't freely admit it, he felt sad at the loss of her touch. He didn't comment on his thoughts, but instead nodded his head and allowed her to hold onto the tub's edge so that she could pull herself up and out to stand on the tiled floor again. He let her exit the bathroom first, following closely behind and watching as her eyes went right to the bedroom's large windows.

"It has passed," she said, moreso to herself, seeing the sun that was shining through the curtains. "Can we go outside to make sure?" she then turned to Tommy to ask him.

"We can," he agreed with her idea, allowing her to move to sit on the chaise lounge then, where the pair of shoes she was previously wearing were sitting. He watched as she slipped them on and stood again, coming back over to where he was standing without a word said.

"Let's go," she smiled at him, extending her hand for him to take. He grinned at her, glancing down at her hand before he slipped his into it, wordlessly allowing her to lead them out of the bedroom and down the hallway.

It didn't take long for them to get onto the grounds of their home. (Y/N) immediately took a look around, seeing that the dark clouds had completely passed over and whiter ones had returned in place. The trees, still full of colorful leaves, seemed to look even more vibrant with a coating of water on them.

That was one thing she loved about autumn. Nature always seemed to be at its best then...give or take a few late season thunderstorms. But she'd fight her way through them if it meant that she got to see this beauty each time that they passed.

"It's beautiful out here now," she voiced her thoughts to Tommy as they walked along one of the paths in the garden.

"It is," Tommy agreed with her, "the good returns once the storm passes."

"It does," it was her turn to agree with what he was saying. Silence fell around them then as they walked the grounds of their home. (Y/N) glanced over at him a few times, admiring how he looked in the sinking sunlight.

"Need something?" Tommy asked as he noticed her looking at him, his eyebrows raised in question.

(Y/N)'s cheeks heated up slightly as she realized she'd been caught. "Thank you for helping me earlier, Tommy," she said to him, slipping her hand into his so that she could give it a squeeze.

"I wish I could have gotten home earlier," he stated, his voiced discrepancy making her shake her head.

"Don't beat yourself up with the specifics. You came at the right time," she told him, her eyes holding earnesty.

"I'm happy that I could help you get through it, love," he said, a soft smile forming on his face as he pressed a kiss to her temple. (Y/N) smiled at the gesture and turned her head, pressing a kiss of her own to his jacket covered shoulder.

Not much else was said as the two continued on their way, enjoying one of their final autumn walks before the cold took over and winter arrived.

Tagged: @mgcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cilliansangel @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby oneshot #tommy shelby one shot #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders oneshot #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 6 months

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Homelander being obsessed with his sister HC III

Warnings: heavy siblingxsibling implications, Homelander being such a narcissist that he falls in "love" with his own sibling, dubcon, noncon, manipulation, stalking, basically all the horrible parts of HL come out to play, MC has blonde hair and blue eyes like HL, different plot than 'All I Ever Wanted, All I Ever Needed', kidnapping

I II IV V

With just HL to interact with, loneliness was inevitable, even if you wanted to resent him and keep your fury

when he'd unintentionally scared you, HL would keep away from his apartment for a while. and when he did stop in, he made sure to avoid you the best he could

it's you who surprises him one morning at the kitchen table with breakfast. You invite him to eat with you

his company was better than none

you decide to play nice, if only to better your situation

but it's a tentative companionship. both of you walk around the other like hesitant/wounded animals; unsure if the other means to harm

neither of you share anything in common, much of that thanks to the different environments you were raised in. in your differences though, you find one another's stories to be interesting (although at times you feel your heart shatter at how lil HL was treated)

thanks to the small conversations you've been having, his mood positively shifts

enough so that Ashley notices with great relief.

painfully slowly there's an odd bond forming

one night when you decide to order in pizza, you witness Homelander in leisure wear. you'd thought that suit was glued on to him. he seemed just as nervous, vulnerable even without his blue spandex

"What was it like, growing up with a family? with love?"

and damn did that hurt you to hear him asking that. you actually reach out and hold his hand, touching him for the first time and HL is incredibly tempted to lean in and claim your lips with his own. he doesn't want a repeat of scaring you though

even with a bond having been formed, he doesn't like when you ask to go outside of the apartment. he'll snap at you with a red gleam in his eyes. afraid that you'll run off the moment he grants you such a simple liberty

"You're treating me like a prisoner, John." that was another new habit, calling him John. Making him sound like a mortal and not a god "People will care that I'm gone."

"No one has said anything so I guess you're not as important as you think." he'll hiss while grabbing the front of your shirt.

instant regret

especially when you start to cry, broken down after how long you'd been cooped up in there; under his complete control. you're at your wit's end and don't know what to do anymore

"I can't be happy here, not when my basic freedom has been taken from me. No matter how sweetly you speak to me or all the gifts you throw at me. It will never be enough to make me forget that."

How is it possible that you make him so angry yet also make him want to hold you close to him

He CAN'T release you though. Couldn't even fathom letting you go. but you've had it

a physical fight breaks out and near destroys his apartment. you're body is screaming for freedom and if he wasn't going to give it to you, well, you were going to take it yourself.

also please tell me some HC you guys have of Homelander x sis!Reader 😊

#tw dark content #tw dark #homelander headcanons #homelander fanfiction #the boys homelander fanfic #the boys homelander #homelander x reader #the boys tv #the boys fanfic #the boys imagine #the boys series #the boys x reader #the boys amazon

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holdmytesseract · 9 months

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Cravings & Foot Rubs

☆ The Baby Fever AU ☆

Loki x Y/N

Summary: Pop-Tarts, foot rubs and massages. That's all you are craving - and Loki is more than willing to fulfill your wishes.

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, pregnancy things, Loki being an overprotective lil' beb, ladders?

Word Count: 1,2k

a/n: To celebrate the release of the Loki Season 2 trailer, I thought I'm gonna post a lil' story! ☺️

This was an idea @eleniblue had. ☺️ She texted me the thing with the foot rubs and massages - and well... That's what the writing department in my brain spat out. I love it. I hope y'all do, too! 🥰

Baby Fever Crew: @km-ffluv @lokisgoodgirl @eleniblue @vbecker10 @loz-3 @jennyggggrrr @lokisninerealms @peaches1958 @multifandom-worlds @fictive-sl0th @lovingchoices14 @simping-for-marvel @stupidthoughtsinwriting @coldnique @kimanne723 @lou12346789 @lady-rose-moon @mostclevermiss @aagn360 @acefeather2002 @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @chennqingg @lokiforever @anukulee

Peeps, I think might like this... @mochie85 @smolvenger @muddyorbsblr ☺️

Baby Fever Masterlist °☆• Loki Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

With a low grunt, you stepped on the little ladder, in order to reach the top shelf, in which the Avengers had stowed away the Pop-Tarts. They had to hide them away. Unless Thor would've eaten all of them - and he wasn't the only one who liked the sweet treat. You did, too, for example.

Unfortunately, was the mission ahead no easy one for you - at least at the moment, with being almost eight months pregnant... This far along in the pregnancy was almost everything a difficult task.

"Uhh, getting Pop-Tarts, babe... We ran out of them and, uh, I desperately wanted some, and I know where Tony hides them, so..." Loki helped you step down from the ladder; his strong grip not ceasing. Once your feet touched solid ground again, you turned to face him. "So, you decide to climb a ladder in order to get some?!" "Uhh, yeah?" Troubled blue eyes were looking down at you. The expression on his face told him that he didn't like this at all.

Taking the next two steps with a grunt, your hand was finally able to reach the top shelf. You let out a victorious giggle and grabbed the Pop-Tarts you craved - chocolate and strawberry.

Just when you wanted to take a step back again, in order to get off the small ladder, you suddenly felt two very strong hands gripping your hips. "What by the holy roots of Yggdrasil are you doing, love?!" It was your husband, of course. The pitch of his voice told you, that he was not amused... And worried.

Your lover took a deep breath to calm his nerves. "Darling... This is dangerous..." He started; both his palms wandering from your hips to the swell of your stomach. "You can't just climb a ladder, being so heavily pregnant... You could've fallen! I was just down the hall. You could've asked me - or hence, even him to help you!" Loki turned to nod at Bucky, who sat quietly on one of the bar stools; eating chocolate pudding. He didn't want to just interfere in your argument, so he kept his mouth shut and played 'Subway Surfers' on his mobile. But when Loki called him out, he lifted his head to face the 'fighting' couple. The god looked at him with a rather mean gaze, while you had an apologetic expression on your face; mouthing 'Sorry, Buck.'

Bucky immediately lifted his hands in surrender. "Hey, don't put this on me, man. I tried to help her, but she told me she was fine, so I accepted her decision." Your husband turned back around to you. "Y/N!" "I'm sorry, babe! But I wanted to make this on my own. I am not sick, just pregnant." Loki sighed; "I know that, love, and I can understand it as well - but..." his hands found your baby bump once more. "I just want you two to be safe. Next time you're craving Pop-Tarts, please tell me. I'll get them for you, yes?" You nodded; getting his point. "Yes." Loki smiled, "Good girl." and leaned forward to peck your lips. "Now, is there something else my beautiful wife is craving, beside Pop-Tarts?"

Believe it or not, but the god loved to give you any kind of massages you desired. He loved the feeling of your skin underneath his palms and fingertips, and the fact that he was able to ease up a lot of your pains. Those magically hands of his, were always able to make you feel good. In more than just one way.

Your cheeks turned slightly red because of Loki's flattering words, as you thought for a moment, then smiled; biting your lip. "Foot rubs?" Loki nodded; smiling brightly as well. "Foot rubs it is."

"Lay down, my queen and I shall give you what you desire." Loki guided you towards the sofa and even helped you lay down. He stacked up another pillow behind your back to make sure that you were comfortable. "Is this to yours and our child's liking?" You giggled like a school girl, nodding. "It is, Lokes. Thank you." "Perfect." The god moved down to your feet then; placed them on his lap. Gently taking off your socks, he started to massage your swollen, hurting feet. Not even a minute had passed, when the first satisfied and utterly relieved moan slipped past your lips. Loki just chuckled and lifted his head to meet your gaze. "Does that feel good, love?" "Heavenly..."

He continued to massage your feet for a while, before he moved up to work the muscles of your calves. After making sure that he gave them enough attention, he went to slip your maternity shorts easily up, bending one leg after the other and massaged your thighs. "Baaabe..." You grunted in satisfaction. "You are so good at this. Have you ever considered to work as a masseur? Those hands are magical - literally. Please don't stop." You pouted; looking down at him. Loki just chuckled once more and shook his head. "I do not intend to stop, darling." Of course, the god was utterly tempted to let his hands travel even further up, but he didn't, because he wanted to help your muscles relax and to give them - you, a break.

"Want me to give your back a massage as well?" "If you'd be willing to do that..." You stated; smiling sheepishly. Loki's lips twitched into another smile. "Turn around, sweet girl." You giggled and did what he said; turned on your side. "As your husband and father of this little wonder you're growing, it is my duty to do everything possible, that makes you feel good - which includes countless foot rubs and massages."

"Don't go..." You mumbled. "Stay." Loki's heart skipped a beat at your words - like so often. "Shall I join you?" A sleepy smile crossed your soft facial features. "Please..." He gave your hand a squeeze, "Alright." and let go of it, in order to lay down beside you. The god didn't slip underneath the blanket, but grabbed a pillow and slid down, until he was face to face with your bump. Pressing a lingering kiss on the roundness which was his child, he wrapped an arm around your hip and hugged you - or well, rather your baby close. You smiled at this gesture. It was something Loki loved to do.

Loki gently lifted your t-shirt, "The small of your back again?" "Uh.Huh." and started to do his good work. "Hips too, darling?" "Yep." "Alright." His hands gently kneaded the muscles and skin of your lower back first, before he moved further to your hips. Loki massaged your left hip first, then the right.

By the end of his soothing and much-needed massage, you were totally relaxed; your sore muscles eased. Hence, you were on the verge of sleeping in - what didn't slip Loki's notice, of course. You didn't even realise, how he stood up and draped a blanket over your body. Only when you felt his cool lips pressing against your forehead did your sleepy brain react. "Take a nap, my love. Rest a bit." Before he could walk away, you reached out your arm and grabbed one of his large hands.

You buried your hands in his long, wild raven curls; massaging his scalp gently. A satisfying groan rumbled through his chest, as he buried his face in the fabric of the blanket, which covered your bump.

Sometimes, words weren't needed and a gesture was all it took. That was such a moment. With your heart filled with love and adoration, you watched the love of your life cuddle with your unborn baby and slowly drifted off to sleep.

#the baby fever au #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki x female reader #loki x you #tom hiddleston x reader #loki #loki fanfiction #loki x y/n #loki fluff #loki laufeyson x reader

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starryriize · 2 months

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my one true love | jaehyun

— ✧ • ˳೫˚ part of my valentine event!

೫ pairing: bf!jaehyun x gf!reader

೫ summary: while watching the symphony orchestra, you realize that you truly do love jaehyun…

೫ genre/word count: romantic!! 467 words!

೫ author’s notes: ahhh ngl this is self-indulgent but i thought for the event it'd be better as a short lil drabble 🤭 if you see me post out of order, no you didn’t

As the orchestra began playing, it felt as though your entire world was slowing down. Perhaps it was the dreamy sounds from the strings or the low, melodic beat of the bass, but there was something…almost magical in the air. The slow crescendo of notes had you reflecting, and thinking about life, and your future. Would it include Jaehyun? You knew that somewhere inside you was that little girl who used to dance in the kitchen, stepping on her father’s shoes, and letting out giggles as classical music played. The same little girl who thought each piece of music told a different story, but got stage fright whenever she picked up an instrument. You thought back to your parents, seeing them fall in love and bond over music, wondering if you and Jaehyun would be just as in love as your parents were. That was what the music reminded you of.

“Darling…” You felt a hand on your knee, blinking a few times upon realizing that you got lost in thought. Turning toward your boyfriend, you see him staring at you intently, eyebrows creased in concern. But why are you concerned, my love? You wonder to yourself. He gently rubs your knee reassuringly, before continuing, “You went silent. Are you okay?” You smile, the kind of smile that Jaehyun thought could rival even the prettiest jewels. In his eyes, you were simply radiant in your midnight blue ball gown and looked even more stunning when you smiled. Perhaps it was that moment or the sparkle in your eyes, but he knew. Jaehyun knew and swore to himself that he'd marry you one day.

“Yes, love. I’m okay, just thinking about us and our future.” He giggles quietly, reaching for your hand to intertwine his fingers with yours. “Our? future?” It came out of his mouth like a question, but it was more similar to nervous excitement to him. With his previous relationships, he never once thought about spending his entire lifetime with any of them, but with you, oh, it was different. As the orchestra crescendoed, it felt as if the world was fading away, no one else in the seats but you and him. “I love you, you know that right?” His eyes crinkle as he smiles at you, hands still intertwined with yours. You nod, catching his gaze, with your voice a low whisper. “I do know, and I love you more.”

Both you and Jaehyun had so much to say, but as the night went on, the notes and melodies spoke for you. There was one thing for sure. When the music fades and the curtains close, you and Jaehyun will always hold each other’s hands through the song that is called life. All that matters is he loves you and you love him.

#laur’s thoughts 🧚🏼‍♀️#laur’s valentine 💌#bnd imagines #boynextdoor imagines #bnd fluff #bnd x reader #bnd jaehyun x reader #boynextdoor jaehyun #jaehyun imagines

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fadingdaggerr · 1 year

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heaven’s gate

pairing: larissa weems x gn!reader (r is only ever referred to as queer, no other specifics)

summary: locking eyes with a woman at a bar and finding purpose in her kiss

warnings (in order): alcohol consumption, making out, smut (thigh riding, fingering, eating out, heavy praise), r is a simp the whole time, so much side character use bc i like making up lil stories about the little people in my head, pretty dialogue heavy in some parts

note: sorry i’ve been gone, i’ve had severe writers block and my birthday was this past weekend so i was out and about. never written smut before so this is different from my usual comfort zone, let me know what y’all think <3 i also tried to keep r neutral as possible to accommodate all presentations and identities :)

the wind whipped against your face as you steadily continued along the sidewalk, numbing your cheeks. the honking of cars and chatter around becoming white noise as you were dead set on your destination, only need at this point to get out of the wind tunnels. an arm looked through yours suddenly, breaking your pace slightly.

“babe, you have got to slow down. these boots are not meant for walking, they’re for attracting,” parker says as he clings to you for warmth, even with his long emerald green jacket on.

you laugh a little, “i’m not freezing my ass off because you chose heeled shoes when you knew damn well we’re in the old district. that means cobblestone streets. i thought you had a college degree?” he shoves you with a laugh, there’s no point in arguing with the truth. he complains the rest of the way, and you just ignore him until he finally stops when the club comes into view.

the vibration of the music could be felt in the floors, on the chairs, at the bar. everything hummed together, music and voices. you took it all in until a rum and coke slid right next to your hand. you nod at the bartender in thanks, turning to take in the club, smiling at the group taking a photo in from of the lavender’s orbit sign with giant smiles and little pride flags in hand. your eyes continue to scan as you bring your glass to your mouth, then double back when a set of eyes connects with yours.

resting against a tall stool, martini in hand, was the most enchanting being you’d ever seen. lips curved into a smirk at your staring, but it didn’t stop you. you allow your eyes to travel down, taking in her short, white dress and her long legs, watching as blue and purple lights sway and highlight her body. your eyes snap back go to hers, returning her smirk before continuing your look around.

you find parker by the pool tables, cheering on the group playing there, not so subtle in his hands caressing one of their arms. you shake your head with a laugh, he was on a mission, just as he had said before you’d left. parker sees you and waves your over excitedly.

“okay, okay so will you play pool with me? and like, help me get them to like me?” he says pointing at the person in bleach-dyed overalls, only a red binder underneath.

“one game,” you say holding up one finger, “i’m not playing matchmaker all night, there’s someone i think i need to talk to by the bar.”

he jumps a little, hugging you, “okay perfect, one game is all i need. then i can help you get some.”

you grab a cue stick, applying chalk as you speak, “i don’t need help. and i think you’ll be a little to preoccupied to help me anyways.”

the object of parker’s affection, max, and their friend arlo, let you break the set. a singular solid ball fell in, putting you into a head start. as the game continued, you told parker what to do so that you could both win and help him with max, which didn’t seem to be an issue. the eight ball was your last in, as you aimed, you could feel eyes on you, burning into your back. turning, you see the woman from earlier watching, new drink, same look in her eyes. you nod towards her then shoot, the eight ball drops into the cup.

parker grabs you, jumping as he holds you, mostly just shaking you like a rag doll. max and arlo shake your hand. deepening their voices to sound all gruff and puffing their chests as they both say “good game, good game,” before breaking and laughing at themselves.

the three step away to get more drinks, and you turn back to where the woman in white had been, but instead she was walking back from the bar, two drinks in hand. she approaches you, setting one drink in your hand. a rum and coke.

“larissa,” she says, “that was quite the game.”

you accept the drink with a smile, introducing yourself, “the game? i don’t recall your eyes being on the cues.”

“perhaps not, but how could they look at anything else?” her words send a shiver down your spine, “let’s go sit, darling.”

you begin moving to find a place to sit down and talk with her. her hand rests on your hip as you walk to keep close to you and not get separated. her touch was electrifying, even through your shirt. you let her sit first, then place yourself next to her, close enough that your legs touch and her perfume fills your nose.

“what do you do for work, larissa?” you ask, eyes looking into hers. you couldn’t see how blue they were before, cursing the dim lighting around you for not gifting you this privilege earlier.

“i’m an english teacher at nevermore, it’s a private academy up in jericho,” she says proudly.

you nod excitedly, “i’ve heard of it! my friend jaya went there in high school since she lived closer to there than byron’s home in rochester.”

her eyes widen, voice nervous, “you know about outcasts?”

you grab her hand, “i am an outcast, i went to byron’s. maybe you know her, jaya o’leary? gorgon, perfect eyebrows despite not getting them done ever in her life?”

larissa laughs, “yes! we had a couple classes together during third year, that’s quite the coincidence.”

“all roads lead back,” you say, mostly to yourself. larissa’s lips form into a soft smile, the hand that’s still in yours tightening.

“what do you do?” she asks.

“i’m a counselor. i run support groups and one-on-ones for anyone in need, we have varying specialists and everything,” you say before you take a sip of your drink.

larissa leans closer, “what do you specialize in?” there’s genuine interest in her voice, and it makes you feel warm and fuzzy.

“queer adolescence and trauma. there’s a lot of kids that need a place to just exist as they are, and home is a confinement cell,” you say looking down into your lap, then back to larissa. she smiles at you, thumb running across yours.

“that’s an admirable profession, you should be incredibly proud of yourself,” her words are so heartfelt that you feel your chest bloom.

“thank you. and for the record, teaching is equally important. it’s a multi-faceted role, you should be proud too,” your eyes are locked with hers, trying to convey that your words are true.

just as she’s about to reply, a scream of your name catches both your attentions. parker’s freckles face popping into view as you watch him bob and weave through the crowd quickly until he stands before you with a giant smile. he almost speaks, but his eyes move to larissa then back to you with a playful smile.

“first of all, nice. second, wow. third, i am going to disappear for a little bit, are you okay here? i can stay if you need me too,” his words are hopeful, but you know his promise of staying is just as true, he’d never leave you if you said no.

“i’m okay, go have your fun and text me. for the love of god, wear a condom. and for the love of your best friend, do not give me extreme details about this later or i will vomit in your shoes,” you say as you shoo him away. he grabs your face and presses a fat kisses to your cheek with an i love you, i love you, i love you, before running off to max.

you groan and wipe your cheek, where did the gloss come from? larissa giggles next to you at the interaction, hand over her mouth. “nice and wow? he’s sweet,” she laughs.

your head hangs low, “that would be parker, the bane of my existence and my assigned ward at this point.” this makes her laugh again, and you almost think you heard angels singing.

“would that be the reason you didn’t come up to me sooner?” larissa prods.

you laugh a bit, looking at her through your lashes, “unfortunately, yes. he needed me to help him win the game so that he could look good.”

her tongue goes across her teeth, “i think it worked better for you, at least in my opinion.”

it’s your turn to lean a little closer now, “well i almost lost because someone, not going to name names, was quite distracting during the final round.”

her hand leaves yours, much to your dismay, but quickly finds its way to your thigh, “oh, i’m sorry. how could i ever make it up to you, almost-loser?” her tone and fake pout nearly kill you on the spot, her touch was making the fire within you burn hotter and hotter.

your hand rises to her neck, caressing her jaw with your thumb. she was so beautiful it was making you dizzy, but you spoke regardless, “i think you’ve already made it up to me just being right here,” you feel her cheek warm under your hand, “maybe i should be thanking you, you might have been my good luck charm instead.”

her lips are only centimeters from yours as she says, “maybe you can repay me then somehow.”

—

her lips were soft, but her kiss was not. her teeth nipped at your bottom lips as she pulled away to breathe, only to pull you back in. one hand gripped her waist, the other against the brick wall behind her to hold you up. her own held you face, keeping you as close as possible. the breathy moans she let out through the kiss made your grip on her tighten, then slide down more, just over the curve of her ass. you pull her hips into you, making another noise leave her.

her lips detach detach from yours, angling her head down, she begins to nip at your neck. you could’ve sworn she was a drug, your own personal aphrodisiac. your hand slides down more, catching her thigh and bringing it to your hip, pressing your hips into hers to give some friction. a noise escapes her at this action, something that makes you need to kiss her again, truly kiss her.

you lean away, ducking your head to catch her lips once again, kissing her with less lust and more intimacy. you savor the way she shivers as your fingers draw little patterns on her thigh as you kiss her, pouring everything into it. she pulls away, panting lightly. your lips migrate to her neck, gentle kisses and nips as you both catch your breath.

through heavy breaths larissa says, “my hotel is only six blocks away.”

your head leaves her neck, pressing a quick kiss to her lips, “my apartment is four.”

your eyes stay locked together, both of you grinning like teenagers. you whip your phone out of your back pocket, opening parker’s contact.

to: park nasty going back to my place. do NOT come back unannounced i was serious about the shoe thing. be safe ily

you shove your phone back in your pocket, hand now extended to larissa. she immediately takes it, weaving her fingers with yours and wrapping the other arm around yours, holding you to her. you’re about to speak to her again when you phone chimes.

from: park nasty ily babe go get some!! and a little more!!!! lord knows i’m about to go back for thirds

larissa reads the message from beside you, laughing at the outlandish text. you groan at it before typing your own quickly

to: park nasty damn give the poor thing a little recovery time u absolute creature. i’m not gonna feel bad for u tomorrow when u complain

you chuckle and put your phone back in your pocket. you look at larissa before you both burst out laughing. she didn’t even know parker but she basically got the full extent of him within one text and watching the two of you interact while playing pool and when he came to you both.

“i see what you mean by the assigned ward thing now,” she says through a chuckle.

you guide her to your street, “he’s a menace, but he’s the best friend anyone could ask for. the descriptive details of his sex life are the price i pay for friendship.”

she just has to ask, “park nasty?”

you cackle, “he decided on day one of us meeting at byron’s that that would be his name in my phone. he thought it would stick, like everyone would call him that or something.”

she laughs with you, “and did they?”

“no!” you laugh loudly, “who’s gonna call a fourteen year old boy that?” she giggles at the story, “but i never changed it because i thought it was so stupid that it was hilarious.”

larissa clings to you and rests her head against yours as you unlock the gate in front of the door, then enter the code to get into the building. you have her step ahead of you, guiding her to your door with a gentle hand on her lower back. she’s back against you as you unlock your door and let yourselves in. you grab her purse and place it on the bench behind the door, then take her coat hanging it on the hooks, along with your own.

just as you look back at her, her lips crash into yours. you immediately kiss her back, hands flying to her hips and holding her tight. hers found their way to hold the back of your neck, blunt nails digging into your skin. you began walking her backwards to your room, staying against the door for a minute as you savor each others touch. you fumble for the knob, backing her in once the door is closed. you’re completely overtaken by her, her lips, her touch, the way she’s holding you like you’ll disappear.

larissa’s knees hit the bed, and she pulls you to her lap as she sits down. you push her back more, laying her on the bed. you lips migrate from hers to her neck, creating more marks to go with the ones from before. working your way down, you press kisses to the expanse of her chest, pale skin just begging to be painted in your affection.

larissa’s legs shift and you suddenly find yourself under her, her dress riding up and exposing more of her thighs. her lips go back to assaulting yours, her hands sliding underneath your shirt to trace the skin of your abdomen. only breaking away to gently ask, “is this okay?”

you smile at her, leaning up to kiss her cheek, “more than okay, i promise.”

her lips are back on yours, your hands are back on the creamy skin of her thighs. she was your new drug of choice, you couldn’t stop the venturing of your hands on her body as her lips and tongue pulled soft moans from you. you need more of her, as much as she’ll allow you.

you shift your hips, raising your right leg to press you thigh to her center, making her lips stutter as she moaned against your chest. her hips instinctually buck against your thigh again, and you hear her breath hitch.

“are you okay? we can stop,” you ask gently, gently stroking the skin of her thigh to assure her.

“don’t,” she rushes out, “i want this, i want you.”

there’s nothing to do except kiss her, kiss her so that it feel like a promise. your hands slide from her thighs to her hips, slowly guiding her against you. she moans into your mouth and your hands move her hips faster, her pleasure was all you could think about.

her moans grew whinier as she desperately moved against you. her forehead pressed into yours as her release grew closer and closer.

“you’re so beautiful,” you mutter, pressing your lips to hers, sitting up so she was now on your lap. the new angle and your words forced a filthy moan from her lips, “and you sound so beautiful. god, how do i deserve this?”

larissa could only kiss you harder, stealing the breath from your lungs. her hips wild against your thigh, the feeling of your hands gripping her hips, it was all too much. your lips found their way to her chest again, you nudge fabric out of the way to kiss along her breasts, gentle love bites that were soothed by your tongue.

larissa’s hips began to falter, moans becoming louder and longer. you flex your thigh more, kissing her as you move her hips faster. her hands grip at you shoulders, eyes screwed tight with pleasure. she was so close.

“open your eyes, baby. i wanna see you, can i see your beautiful eyes?” you ask as you kiss her neck and jaw, biting the skin every now and then, “please?”

larissa’s eyes flutter open, lust-drunk eyes looking into yours. you quickly reward her by pushing her further down on your thigh, making a sweet moan come from her as she looks into your eyes.

“fuck, you’re so beautiful,” a kiss to her chest, “you’re doing so well,” a kiss to her neck, “you can let go whenever you’re ready,” a kiss to her jaw, “i can’t wait to see you fall apart just for me,” a final kiss to her lips.

your words seem to be the undoing of larissa weems. she moans loudly against your lips, hips quickening then stuttering. blue eyes find yours as a long and beautiful song escapes her, thighs shaking. you’re in awe, entirely captivated by her. you can already tell that you’re not going to be able to let her go, your mind had been screaming to keep her close since you saw her. this sight was the only thing that mattered now, pleasing larissa was your life mission.

her forehead drops to yours, eyes shut, breath heavy. you stay there for a moment, unmoving, allowing her to come down peacefully. your raise your arm slowly, gently brushing hair from her face before cupping her cheek. her cheek presses into your palm, and you just have to kiss her. it’s soft and sweet, just a reminder that she’s cared for. she pulls back, eyes opening slowly. all you can do is smile at her, and she returns it gently. your lips find her cheek, pressing a few kisses to her skin.

“where the hell have you been?” she says with a breathy laugh.

you smile harder at her words, “i’ve been right here. guess you’ll have to come to the city more often.”

“or you’ll just have to come to jericho,” she says playfully.

you kiss her softly before speaking, “i have a good reason to it seems. a very beautiful reason at that.”

she pushes you back, leaning over you to press her lips against yours. the dance is slow, meaningful. her tongue grazes your lips for entry, and she’s given it without second thoughts. she kisses with full passion, telling you everything with every movement. she sucks on your bottom lip, making you groan and pull her face closer. all you want, need is her. you whine as she pulls back, and she gives you a quick kiss to appease you.

her fingers begin to lift your shirt up slowly, eyes searching for permission. you grab one of her hands, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. you grab her other hand and guide them both under your shirt, letting her know you’re okay. she strips you of your shirt, and kissing down your chest and belly. her hands find your belt buckle, undoing it quickly while you lift your hips help her remove it. she climbs back up, kissing a trail from waist to your lips. your hands fall to her back, finding the zipper of her dress as she lazily kissed you.

she sits up and her dress falls down, revealing a lack of bra, leaving her in ruined panties. you sit up and your lips immediately find her chest, wrapping around one nipple as your hands traced her body. your tongue swirls around her, leaving her skin with with a gentle kiss before moving to the other.

“god, you feel so good,” she lets out breathily, whimpering at your touch. after a bit she forces your head away from her chest, pushing you back down to remove your pants and her dress, evening the amount of clothing you both wore.

the view of her above you was breathtaking, you couldn’t take your eyes off of her. her hair was messy, lipstick smudged around her face, bruises and bites across her neck and chest. she was a goddess in your presence.

“what are you staring at me for?” she whispers, insecurity well hidden.

“you’re… you’re just so god damn gorgeous larissa,” you pull her down and roll so that you’re on top of her, “i can hardly believe you’re here, that you’re even real,” you kiss her softly. your lips trail down her neck, to her chest, down to her stomach, “and i get to see you like this.”

she pulls you up to her again, kissing you soundly, “it’s hard to believe you’re real yourself. never has anyone spoke to me like this, even made me feel like this.”

you frown at her words, mad at her past lovers for not appreciating her enough. “can i show you how beautiful you are?” you ask gently, nuzzling your nose against her cheek before continuing, “can i taste you?”

she groans at your words, turning her face to kiss you hard, “please.”

you kiss her again, trailing back down her body. reaching her center, you place a light kiss to her thigh, biting the plush surface then soothing it with your tongue. your fingers lightly trace up her legs to hook in her panties and pull them down. you bite your tongue, nearly moan at the sight.

you kiss along her thighs some more, slowly moving closer to where she needed you. you look up at her, “do you want me to continue?”

her hand reaches down for one of yours, and you are quick to follow, tangling your fingers together. she squeezes your hand, “yes.”

you kiss her mound gently, then move to her clit. wrapping your tongue around her, her hand grips yours. your tongue swirls her clit some more before going to taste her fully. your tongue gathers her wetness, you moan into her at the taste. the vibration alone makes larissa choke out a strangled moan. you continue to lap at her, slow, long strokes against her, savoring every second.

a long lick up back to her clit, sucking it gently, working larissa up. your hand that was wrapped around her thigh came to her entrance, slowly pressing your middle finger into her. she moans softly at the touch, squeezing your hand as you pumped your finger slowly.

“more,” she whines, “please.”

you follow command, adding your ring finger when you push back into her again while your tongue plays with her clit. a deep moan leaves her, only egging you on. quickening the pace of both your tongue and your fingers, you feel her legs wrap around you.

you pull back from he clit, pressing a kiss to it when she whimpers. “do you want more, baby?” your only response is a nod and a moan of your name.

your mouth is back on her, only to pull away again to watch her take a third finger. when your forefinger enters her as well, her moans echo off the walls. she pulls the hand she’s holding, wanting for your lips. you keep your fingers in her, letting her adjust as you climb up to kiss her. her arms wrap around your shoulders while her hips chase your fingers, moaning into your mouth. your thumb finds her clit, toying it in circles at the same pace as your fingers fuck into her faster.

you shove your face into her neck, sucking the skin and licking it and she grinds harder against you. she grows frantic in her movements as she gets closer, her walls hugging your fingers.

you move back down, replacing your thumb with your mouth. her moans become more whispers, her breathing shallow. “you can cum, baby. let me taste you,” you whisper.

your tongue and fingers move together at a fast pace, willing larissa to cum. the tight curl your fingers inside her makes her cry your name out as she climaxes. you remove one finger at a time as you slowly fuck her through her orgasm, bringing your fingers to your mouth to clean them. her eyes bore into you as she watches, you watch her in return. you keep your eyes on her as you clean her folds with her tongue, greedily taking every last drop of her.

“you taste like heaven,” you say as you kiss up her body, finding purchase in her neck. you press a kiss to her skin before asking, “you alright?”

she grazes her finger up and down your spine, “more than alright.”

you pull away from her, shuffling off the bed to stand up. she watches as you grab a t-shirt from the top of your dresser and throw it on, admiring you from the bed. “i’ll be right back,” you press a kiss to her cheek before turning to leave the room.

true to your word, you return within a minute, two bottles of water and a wet washcloth in hand. you prop the bottles on the nightstand closest to larissa and move between her legs to clean her up. she winces slightly, still sensitive, but you make it up to her with kisses on her thighs and hips. you drop the washcloth in the hamper, grabbing a shirt for her from your dresser. you lay down next to her, just watching her as she puts your shirt on and lays down facing you.

“you’re welcome to stay, if you’d like. if not, i can walk you back to your hotel,” you say quietly.

“do you want me to go?” she asks at the same volume.

you shake your head against the pillow, “not at all. i’ll even buy you breakfast in the morning, anywhere you want.”

larissa looks at the clock, 3:36 looks back at her, “i think it’s going to be lunch by the time we wake up.”

“ever heard of a diner, gorgeous? they have breakfast all day. you can get…” you look in her eyes, pupils dilating for a moment, “crepes with berries and honey, and a hot chocolate with cinnamon on top whenever you please.”

she stares at you with wide eyes and mouth agape, “how the hell did you know that?”

you laugh, realizing you’d only told her you were an outcast and not what kind, “i’m a telepath, baby.”

she blinks a couple times, “you’ve been reading my mind the whole time?”

you grab her hand, playing with her fingers, “no, i choose when i want to listen in, took a while to figure it out though. i just wanted to know your favorite breakfast, so i just looked for that.”

she pulls you into her, laying on her back to have your weight on top of her, “you are utterly delightful.”

you prop your chin on her chest, “may i ask what kind of outcast you are?”

she takes a deep breath, this was always a dreaded question, but she found herself trusting you with her secrets. she exhales slowly, “i’m a shapeshifter.”

“that’s so cool, i know a couple shifters. parker’s a shifter, but he can only shift to this big ass dog. but not like a werewolf, it’s voluntary,” you say as you glide your fingers up her arm.

“explains the amount of energy he has,” she responds with a huffed laugh.

you giggle at her comment, “i would’ve guessed you were a siren, just from looking at you.”

she smiles, “why’s that?”

“because you’re fucking outrageously gorgeous, larissa. bewitching, truly,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

you stretch across her to turn the light off before nuzzling into her. you fall asleep to her steady breathing and calm heartbeat, larissa’s arms wrapped securely around you.

—

you wake up in the morning with your face shoved in your pillow, a weight across your back. you crack an eye open, looking down to see a pale hand next to yours. memories of the night before flood your mind, lips growing into a smile. grabbing her hand, you bring it to your lips, gently kissing her fingers. lifting her arm just a tad, you turn and bury yourself in her chest, wrapping your arm around her as well. her arms wrap tighter around you, a yawn passing her lips. you kiss the skin against her neck closest to your lips, mumbling a morning, baby.

she hums in return, snuggling into you as she wakes up. you run your hands along her side, gently coaxing her into the waking world as you press soft kisses to her skin. finally moves by rolling over, trapping you below her, stealing a kiss from your lips. “good morning, lovely,” she whispers.

your peace is interrupted by your phone ringing from the nightstand. she reaches for your phone and and hands it to you, you kiss her hand in thanks. park nasty is calling appears on your screen, you mumble curses as you go to answer.

“what?” you ask.

“good morning sweetheart, it’s lovely to hear from you too,” parker says sarcastically into the phone.

“whatever, i’m putting you on speaker. behave yourself, larissa’s here,” you demand.

“oooo, is that the sexy blonde from last night?”

“yes, now behave yourself,” you repeat before pressing the speaker icon.

“hello miss larissa!” larissa says ‘hello’ back through a little laugh, “anyways, you aren’t going to fucking believe my night. please tell me you’re free for lunch, i’ll be a normal amount of gross i promise,” parker speaks quickly and excitedly into the phone.

you look at larissa as you speak, “well, we were going to go get breakfast- don’t even fucking start,” you can already hear him an snickering on the other line, “maybe you and i can do dinner or something?”

parker suppresses his giggles, “oh, please let me come to breakfast! i need to properly meet this larissa, i wanna hear all about last night’s desser-”

“parker, i will call abuela so fucking help me,” you threaten, and he knows you would.

“okay, okay! but please, let me join!” he drags out the last word, “larissa! please, tell this meanie i can come to breakfast. i’ll be good, scout’s honor.”

larissa chuckles, “yes, you should most definitely join us.”

“larissa please, he wasn’t a boy scout. abuela thought it was american propaganda,” you plead.

“too late! text me where you cuties are going, love you both. bye!” parker hangs up immediately, not allowing room for discussion.

“i’m going to need to stop by my hotel before breakfast, i have nothing to wear.”

you nod in agreement, “i’d offer you something of mine, but it doesn’t really seem to be your style.”

getting up from the bed, you extend your hand to her, “shower before we leave?”

she takes your hand, following you to your bathroom. you grab the hem of the shirt she’s wearing, lifting it up to expose her love-stained chest. she returned the favor, removing your own, as well as your own underwear. she pulls you in for a short kiss, just loving the intimacy of the moment. you both shower quickly, not wanting to leave parker waiting too long, but savor in the closeness and quiet

once you dry off, you hand her her dress from last night, then walk to your closet to pull out a light blue sweatshirt and a sweater. you place the crew neck next to her while you tread to your dresser. pulling cargo jeans out, you slide them on, and your t-shirt is quickly replaced by the thick black sweater. larissa never takes her eyes off of you, shamelessly watching you change, admiring her handiwork across your neck and chest. you catch her staring, and she’s quick to grab the sweatshirt, throwing it on as a means to hide for just a moment.

—

the drive to her hotel was nice, you spent the short journey asking random questions, some pointless and minor, some more thoughtful. favorite colors, worst fears, best birthday present, embarrassing childhood moments, you loved learning about her. you wished you could slow time, freeze and rewind the last fifteen hours over and over again.

she pulls you to her hotel room with your hands interlocked. you gladly watch her go through her outfits with a soft smile on your face, seeing how she pieces together what to wear in her mind. you want to read her, but you won’t unless she allows you to, and even then you’ll likely never ask.

“which do you think?” she holds up a white satin blouse and a white cotton one, and all you can do is blink.

“i think you look best in nothing,” she throws the satin shirt at you, “jeez, woman! i say…” you lean over her bag, spotting a pair of straight-legged black pants, “these, and keep my sweatshirt on. you look good in my clothes,” you smile. she only kissed you in response, before disrobing to get changed for the day as you text parker.

“i can’t be bothered with makeup today,” she grumbles as she laces up a pair of white boots.

you walk around to kneel down to tie the other shoe for her. “you don’t need it anyways,” you squeeze her thighs as you stand back up. “all set, gorgeous?” she nods, grabbing your hand.

—

larissa ends up applying mascara and tinted lip balm in the car while you head to the diner. parking across the street in the pharmacy lot, you jump out to open the door for her, bowing and extending your arm in jest. she smacks your arm playfully before wrapping her own around it.

sitting at table, your let you fingers dance along larissa’s thigh, both talking about random things while you wait for parker. neither of you noticed when he walked in until he slid into the and smacked his hands on the table. “good morning darling, meanie,” he nods to larissa and you respectively.

“so thirds went well i presume?” you say with a laugh.

he nods excitedly, “fourths and dessert too.”

you shake your head as the waiter puts menus down and asks what drinks you’d all like. latte, coffee, hot chocolate with cinnamon, you already knew. you stare at the menu while parker explains the beginning of the whole thing with max.

you turn to the breakfast page, pointing to the crepes for larissa. she smiles excitedly, mumbling to ask you if they have honey, “of course they do,” you say to her with a little smile.

“and so they had me like over the count- you’re not even listening. neither of you, i can’t believe this,” parker goes to smack you with his spoon when you bat him with the menu.

the waiter comes back, and takes your orders, taking a little to much care on larissa’s order. she pays him no mind, leaning on you while she orders, looking at you when you do. he seems to take the hint and quickly walks away, parker’s laugh taking place in his stead.

“doesn’t the fool know a basket of fruits when he sees one?” parker asks making larissa laugh, her hand flying to her mouth. her laugh makes you smile, eyes resting on her face.

“can i ask now?” parker asks, looking at you.

“three questions,” you say with a sigh.

“each?” he says with a sly smile.

“three total,” you say sternly making larissa chuckle again.

“where, how many times each, and are you u-hauling yet?”

your head smacks against the table before coming back up, “i hate you. my place, two and one, and watch your mouth.”

larissa’s head whips to you, eyes bulging out of her head. parker seems to put the pieces together first, because there’s a beat, then a crack of his laughter. he’s nearly struggling to breathe, then cries out when you kick him under the table. he resorts to holding back laughs, wiping tears from his eyes.

“had that much fun, huh?” he looks at larissa, his face turning red from laughter, “oh my god, larissa doesn’t get it. oh my god, please let me stay while you explain this.” you’re want to drown in your coffee cup, you have to explain this with parker across from you while in a public setting.

you duck your lips to her ear and whisper, “i told you that you tasted like heaven, didn’t i? brought me there with just the taste of you.”

you pullback and look at her face, her cheeks go fully red, eyes fluttering. parker is silent screaming at her reaction, you hold your head in your hands. you’re definitely snitching to abuela about his nosiness.

the waiter brings the food, crepes with berries and honey for larissa, eggs with toast and pan fries for you, and waffles with an absurd amount chocolate chips on top for parker. larissa immediately passes hot sauce to you, remembering your comment about loving tabasco sauce. you thank her with a smile, then glare at your friend when he does a little aaaawe.

“are you going to see max again?” larissa asks parker as he shoves half a waffle into his mouth.

he takes a sip of his coffee, “oh for sure. they’re too good not to, super sweet too. they would’ve come along but they had plans at their babcia’s place for lunch.”

you smile at him, “that’s awesome buddy.” you pick up a piece of cantaloupe from your fruit salad and pass it to him to take, he loves it while you loathe it. it just works.

he takes the melon from your fork, speaking while he chews, “what about you two? gonna keep up?”

you and larissa look at each other. you hadn’t even thought about it much, nothing past post-orgasm conversation. you want to say yes, but you don’t want to put pressure on her. she takes your hand under the table and speaks first, “definitely.”

you look at her, “yeah, vermont sounds pretty cool. i could spend some time there,” you turn to parker, “she teaches at nevermore.”

he perks up immediately, “you’re one of us?”

larissa smiles, “yes, i’m a shapeshifter. but i try to keep that a little quiet.”

parker’s grin is huge, dimples showing off, “totally get it. i’m a shifter too, people get a little freaked out by dogs that are five feet tall on all fours.”

larissa’s eyes widen as she looks at you, “you didn’t say he was five feet tall in that form.”

you shrug, “i told you he was a big ass dog.”

parker chuckles, “she was probably picturing a great dane, you moron,” he looks at larissa, “think the grim the harry potter, but lighter fur and better groomed.”

you laugh at his comparison, “sirius black was in prison for twelve years. did you want him to be all fresh and clean?”

larissa just laughs and watches in amusement as the two of you argue over the mauraders, her head on your shoulder, your arm around hers.

—

the rest of the time larissa is in the city, she’s with you. the next three days were spent touring around the city, going to shops and cafes, always ending in either your bed or her hotel’s, depending on which was closer. her departure time was steadily approaching, making you both a bit upset.

she lays her head on your chest, legs tangled with yours, sweat across both your bodies. you take the time to map her body with your fingers, needing to remember every inch of her. she was worth a six hour drive, hell she was worth a six century walk.

“what’s going on in your head?” she asks gently, “i can’t see into your mind, you know.”

you chuckle, kissing her forehead and hugging her close, “i’m just wondering how i can change my powers from telepathy to teleportation. would be so much easier.” she cuddles into you more, hugging you tight.

the next morning is slow, her alarm going off around six, even though she didn’t really need fo be up until seven. she just wanted more time with you. you spend part of your morning just holding each other, soft kisses holding promises. more kisses and hands between each others thighs in the shower, your name spelled on her clit with your tongue, her name falling from your lips as she brings you closer and closer.

you’re enjoying hot chocolate together in the lobby when her phone chimes, the nevermore car was only five minutes away. she looks at you with watery eyes, you bring your hands up to cup her face.

“it’s a six hour drive, whenever you want me there, i’ll be there. i know it’s harder for you to leave, i can organize and do meetings virtually time to time,” you kiss her cheek.

she shakes her head, “you’re job is too important, i can’t ask you to do that. that would just be selfish of me, they need you.”

“baby, i’m only working in person half the week with clients, the other half is all online. i’m a phone call away from any of them, you won’t be stealing me from anyone,” you assure her.

“you have to promise me you won’t sacrifice your job for me,” larissa demands.

you draw an x over your chest, “cross my heart. i’m not sacrificing my job, but i also don’t want to sacrifice you. i’m willing to make this work if you are.”

she kisses you hard, “i’m more than willing.”

you walk her to the car, putting her bags in for her. shooing away the driver, you open the door for her and guide her in. you lean your head into the car, “call me when you get home, okay?”

she holds the collar of your shirt to keep you close, “i’ll probably call you before i even get there.”

you smile and press a sweet kiss to her cheek, “please do, i’m gonna miss your voice.” you clear your throat, “i’ll see you soon, larissa.”

you start to back out of the car when she pulls your collar, pulling you into a long kiss, “better be soon.” she presses one last kiss to your lips before releasing your shirt, letting you back away and shut the door.

the car pulls off, and you watch until she’s gone from your sight. you make your way to your car, exhaling deeply before starting the engine and backing out of the lot.

you’re sitting on parker’s couch, legs draped across max’s lap while you both wait for parker to come back from the kitchen with snacks. community plays on the tv, one of the paintball wars playing quietly while the three of you were talking. your phone ringing breaks the silence, larissa <3 is calling.

“i gotta take this. i’ll be in parker’s room if you need me,” you say quickly to max and you scramble down the hallway.

you click the green answer button, “hey there, beautiful.”

you hear her laugh lightly, “i wanted to call you sooner, but there was horrible service. i’m almost to jericho now.”

“i’m glad you’re safe,” you say through a smile, giddy from her voice, “i’m at parker’s with max, i’m outnumbered here.”

larissa laughs again, making your heart swell, “i’m sorry, lovely. once you come to visit it’ll just be you and me, no being outnumbered or interrupted.”

“don’t threaten me with a good time,” you say, “fuck, is it embarrassing that i miss you already?”

“only if it’s embarrassing that i miss you quite a bit already as well,” she plays.

the bedroom door swings open, parker’s head popping in and pointing at the phone. the second you mouth larissa he grabs the phone and starts talking to her. you wrestle the phone out of his hand, shoving him out the door. “i’m telling abuela!” you yell down the hall, you can’t just hog your girlfriend is screamed back before bringing the phone back to your ear.

“sorry about that,” you say with a huff.

“it’s cute, the two of you fighting over me,” she jokes.

you laugh at her, “pray tell, who has won your affections?”

“park nasty,” larissa deadpans.

“oh my god, i’m hanging up,” you say as you don’t even move to do so.

“no, no, no, no, no. you win, of course you win,” she yells into the phone, “you win over everyone, i swear.”

“everyone? even sarah jessica parker?” you joke, referencing back to her confession of her childhood crush.

she laughs, “yes, even sarah jessica parker.”

banging in the door pulls you from the conversation, max and parker both beating on the door and calling fo you. gimme a second! is screamed at them.

“baby, i gotta go, homosexuals are beating down the door,” she laughs over the line, “let me know when you get to nevermore, okay?”

“i promise. and i’ll see you soon. goodbye, darling.

“bye, gorgeous. i’ll see you soon,” the line beeps as the call comes to an end.

feedback appreciated as always, love you a bushel and a peck <3

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems fanfic #larissa weems #wednesday netflix #gwendoline christie #brienne of tarth

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margowritesthings · 5 months

Note

Hey, Margo! 🩷

I’m sending the request according to your new post 🥺

I would like a friends to lovers trope. But here’s the thing: Could the female character (lil me) and Arthur actually had a relationship in the past (current relationship status is they broke up) and now they are falling for each other again (second chance)?

Of course I would love a Red Dead Redemption (Arthur Morgan) fanfic 🩷

The gender is female, and if you could make her ginger with brown eyes (like me) I would love it 🥺 And if Arthur calls her angel, even better 🩷🩷🩷

Feel free to add smut, fluff and anything you would like!

Thank you for tagging me! You know how much I love your writing 🩷

sweet angel hello! thank you for participating, i got so many ideas for your love story with our pretty cow boah

come celebrate 1k followers with me!

arthur morgan // second chance + friends to lovers

you two have been sweet on each other since the moment you met, the day you joined the gang. arthur was brave enough to ask you on a date after only a short three months of pining after you

he took you to the saloon, you beat him at poker, and in that moment he knew you were his soulmate. a forever love.

you were together for a few months, and it was that kind of love you only thought existed in the stories you read. it was celestial, ethereal. a wild burning flame extinguished far too quickly.

when he found out about isaac and eliza's deaths, arthur really struggled. he drank a lot and lost himself for a while.

you knew the best thing to do was to just be there for him, so you both decided he needed friendship right now.

"you're my best friend, arthur. that ain't ever gonna change."

but the feelings didn't just go away as easily as your plan relied on, that flame too furious to be extinguished by simple "logic"

you wanted to respect the space arthur asked for, and he never thought he was good enough to have you after letting you go the first time

unworthy of your love

if he couldn't protect isaac and eliza, how could he ever deserve you?

and thus ensued years of pining

the very best of friends, unable to stay away from each other while this silent love roared

you'd work jobs together, go hunting together, have midnight chats by the fire, save each other's asses from time to time

years went on like this, where everybody in the gang and their mamma would share glances and roll their eyes at the two fools who couldn't just admit they were made for each other

you were the first person arthur wanted to see whenever he got back from a job, the one he rode home to even if he never said it aloud

and as much as your heart ached a little every time you looked at him, you would have stayed like that forever if it meant getting to keep arthur in your life

until the day he left it

when he didn't come back from the 'chat' with the o'driscolls, you were out of your mind with worry

the thought of never seeing arthur again flipped a switch in your mind and you finally realised that this life stuck in limbo wasn't enough

you were sneaking out in the dead of night against dutch's orders when you saw him, beaten and bloody, riding home to you

it broke you, the relief washing over you like a wave that breaks the walls you've built as though they're nothing but paper

he practically falls off his horse, but you catch his weight and support him

you take him to your tent and patch him up, holding him and crying with him when you see what they did to arthur. your arthur.

he winces when he reaches up to push that stray rebellious hair out of your face, but the way the candlelight glows in his eyes has your own breath hitching in your throat

"i was so worried, arthur... i-i thought-"

"i know, angel, i know... i'm sorry...

but i'm here now

and i ain't ever leaving you again."

that nickname... from all those years ago when you first found eachother

whispered for the first time in a moan, you and him tangled together in sheets for the very first time

"goddamn... you're an angel, how'd a dirty sinner like me ever get so lucky?"

when you broke up, you never thought you'd hear it again

and yet here you are

the sweet name echoing in your ears as he kisses you, reuniting your lips after far too long apart

it's a desperate kiss, the kind that holds two lifetimes of context

like you're scared if either one lets go the moment will disappear

so you don't

you tangle your fingers in his hair, he cups your cheek, your bodies moulding together

being any closer would be impossible

"this is it, angel, you hear? no more messing around, this is it. this is us, cause i ain't letting you go."

"you better not, mister."

you’re both crying, breathing each other in, never wanting to let one another go

and you never do again

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x y/n #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan drabble #margos 1k celebration #rdr2 drabble #arthur morgan headcanon #arthur morgan headcanons

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reidsaurora · 1 year

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"I Choose You" ~ S. Reid

Summary: What happens when the lowly stable boy, Spencer, and the royalist of princesses, Y/N, fall in love?

Pairing: Stable Boy!Spencer Reid x Royalty!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,830

Content Warning: explicit language, slightly suggestive if you squint, minor character death sorta, mentions of food, time period appropriate sexism/classism i guess (Reader is expected to get married to a prince), a mild mention of ✨️manure✨️

Genre: Fluff, maybe a lil angsty in some parts buy mostly fluffy

Originally Written: 02/24/2023

Beta Read By: @dungeons-are-too-cold

Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!

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"𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐮𝐧 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞." - 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧

I knew it was a selfish, spoiled, first-world problem, but I needed to get out of that kingdom, and fast.

I sprinted through the halls, one thing on my mind—hopping on my horse and riding somewhere far away from this hell hole. I heard my father yelling, "Y/N! Get back here!" but I didn't care. The exit was in my sights. Freedom.

My heels dug into the mud, my dress surely had dirt on the ends, but I couldn't have cared less. I flung the door to the stable open, holding my breath as I tried to find Willow's saddle.

"Hey, slow down. It's not as if the castle is under siege," a familiar voice chuckled behind me.

I took a deep breath before turning to face him, slightly regretting it as I breathed in the horrid smell of manure. Though, I needed it in order to face him with proper composure "Hi, Spencer."

With the same soft eyes he always had, he looked me over, noticing my distress. "What's wrong?"

My shoulders settled as I realized it was just the two of us. I could be as honest as I wanted to with Spencer, and he'd always accept it. Much unlike my parents.

It was always like that with Spencer. Sure, he was just the stable boy and I was royalty, and if they ever found out I was the slightest bit kind to Spencer, they'd most likely put me on house arrest. But there was always something about him, something inviting, like you wanted to tell him your life story and let him analyze it for you.

So, I did what I always did when I heard that soft, inviting voice. I answered. "Father's brought in prospects again and he's angry that I haven't chosen anyone yet."

"Again?" he said, nearly laughing in disbelief. "You'd think His Majesty would figure out your plan by now."

"My plan?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow. "OK, stable boy, just what plan do you speak of?"

He tapped a finger against his chin, his eyebrows furrowing as he thought. "Hmm, your plan to hop on your horse and ride into the sunset, going to a faraway country and starting a bakery."

"A bakery?" I nearly choked in bewilderment. "I don't even know how to prepare my own tea! Could you imagine me attempting to bake breads and muffins?"

"Ooh, I got it!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands together and playing up the satire. "You're going to start your own tailor shop!"

I giggled, shaking my head. "Who's going to teach me to sew? You?"

Deadpan, he answered, "I do know how to."

I scoffed, my hands flying to my waist. "You do not."

He nodded, looking away from my face and down at his twiddling fingers. "My mother taught me. Before she got too sick. That way I'd know how to fix my buttons after she was…"

I swallowed hard, a touch of sadness panging in my heart for him. I already knew about his mother, the way she'd gotten sick and left him orphaned. It was the whole reason he'd come to the castle, so he'd have just enough money for food on the table, or in his lunch pail rather.

The sound of my mother calling, "Y/N!" startled us from our thoughts, her sudden shouting frightening me to the point of an irregular heartbeat. She was approaching the stables fast, and by the tone in her voice, it was clear she wasn't happy.

"Come on!" I whispered, grabbing one of the saddles from where it hung and shoving it into Spencer's hands, our fingers brushing against each other's for only a millisecond.

His face might as well have had "panic" inked across it. "What are you doing?"

"Buying us time," I answered, struggling to hold my dress out of my way as I climbed onto Willow's back. "You can take Father's horse, since he's apparently getting too old to ride it anyway."

He tossed the saddle onto Copper's back, throwing himself up onto the stallion with ease. Curses upon all men and the fact that they don't have to wear these stupid dresses.

"Y/N, get down from there!" Mother called as she burst through the doors and saw us, but it was too late. Spencer and I had already started off, laughing as we raced away from the stables.

His hair blew in the wind, a wide smile sitting on his lips, the first I'd seen in a long time. "Where to first, M'lady?" he chuckled, speeding ahead of me.

I scoffed but couldn't help myself from giggling at his childish behavior. "Hey!" I shouted, racing to catch up to him. "I was thinking," I laughed as I passed him, watching as his eyes widened, "Paris! Or maybe Rome!"

"Don't you think it's a bit far for the horses?"

I took a deep breath of the fresh spring air, something I hadn't smelled in months, it seemed like. "We'll just have to find a way to manage."

Soon enough, we were all out of breath, deciding to stop in a beautiful field of wildflowers, overlooking lusciously green hills and valleys.

We hopped off our respective horses, tying their bridles to a nearby tree and collapsing into the flowers in a fit of giggles.

"We should do that more often," Spencer got out, his chest puffing with exasperated breaths.

"What? Run away from my parents? Believe me, if I could get away with it, I would."

"You could."

I rolled onto my side to face him, propping myself up with one arm. "What?"

"You could totally run away and do what you want. You could be a baker, a seamstress, a teacher, an author, or whatever you'd like. You could do it if you tried."

I looked him over, suddenly feeling the urge to kiss away the pout on his perfectly plump lips. I swallowed hard and shook away the thought immediately. "You sound like you speak from experience, stable boy."

He shook his head. "I'm just saying. You have the status. You could leave if you wanted."

"Believe me, I couldn't abdicate the throne if I were the last person on earth. Somehow, even if both my parents were gone, they'd still find a way to tell me all the things they expected of me."

I wanted to press on, to ask why exactly he was so passionate about the subject, but held my tongue. A proper lady always knows when to speak and when to bite her tongue, my mother's voice echoed in my mind.

Spencer turned onto his side to face me better, propping himself up on his surprisingly thick bicep. Why was I noticing it? "M'lady-"

"Y/N, it's Y/N. You of all people will never have to call me M'lady, Her Royal Highness, or any of those other stupid titles."

"Y/N," he clarified, looking a bit like he'd just licked a postage stamp. Must've felt strange falling out of his mouth. "I'm just a stable boy. It's all I'll ever be. But you can do whatever you'd like. You're royalty, for heaven's sakes! Anyone who didn't allow you to do what you want could be burned at the stake."

My face softened as I watched his expression change to one of grief. He was regretting his decision to become a stable boy after his mother died, I had realized. I sighed, lying down flat beside him and looking up at the cloudy sky. "Well, what do you really wish to do?"

He exhaled, lying down beside me. It was like that a lot, I'd noticed. When I moved, he moved. And when he moved, I moved. Like gravity. "I'd like to go to college. Learn how to read, specifically Latin. Oh, and learn about math. And rhetoric. And anything they'd teach me, really."

He let out a deep breath, basking in the afternoon air, I presumed. "What would you do?"

Kiss you. And hold your hands. And run away with you. "Um, I'm not quite sure."

"Come on. There has to be something in that beautiful brain."

My head shot up, my eyes widening in confusion at what he'd just said. "Beautiful?"

He blushed, his cheeks burning red. "Well, it doesn't take a scientist to see you're beautiful."

"You think I'm beautiful, Spencer?"

The heels of his hands dug into his eyes, hiding his embarrassment-ridden face. "And this why you can't go to college, Spencer," he mumbled. "Too stupid."

I slapped his dirt covered chest, realizing that it was the second time in one day that I'd touched him. I liked it. "You aren't stupid! You know how to keep the horses alive. I wouldn't even be able to keep myself alive if it weren't for maids and cooks."

I pulled his hands away from his face, his deep hazel eyes burning an ever so pleasant hole right through me. "Did you really mean it? Do you really think I'm beautiful?"

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and suddenly I could think of multiple other places I wanted his tongue to be. "I do. I think you're the prettiest girl in the whole kingdom. Possibly even the whole world if I knew what it was like."

Suddenly, the cool air of spring burned right through me and I found myself unable to resist the brunet stable boy I craved so much. "Do you really wish to know what I'd do if I could leave?"

He nodded, looking up at me through long, soft eyelashes.

I tossed myself over him, my dress falling around the both of us. "I'd grab your hand," I started, slotting my left hand in his right, "and I'd run away with you. Go wherever you want. We could sail to America and join Vaudeville. We could go to Greece and become olive farmers. We could go to China and study philosophy. I don't care. As long as I could be with you."

His face softened once again, his thumb swiping soft lines on the back of my hand. "Is that why you never say yes to any of your father's prospects?"

I nodded, thinking Fuck it, before leaning down, allowing my lips to glide into his. It was just as pleasant, just as sweet, as I'd always imagined. His hands moved to my waist, settling on the taut material of my now dirty, mud-spattered dress. I tried to pull away first, but his succulent lips chased mine for another kiss, his tongue slipping into my mouth for a split second. I already craved more of it as soon as his mouth pulled away from mine.

"I would never say yes to one of those pompous, pampered, pretty-haired pricks. I want you. Out of everyone in the world, you are the one I'd choose."

His hands darted to my cheeks, pulling me into his swollen, red lips once again. "You want to know something, M'lady? I choose you, too."

"𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐈 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞, 𝐈 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞." - 𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐤 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐫𝐚

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Aaaahh, I'm so excited to finally post this!!! Idk why it's taken me so long to post but I am so excited to finally be posting it! As always, a huge thank you to Georgia for beta reading this and helping it reach its fullest potential! I love you so so so much!!! 🫶🏻

This was written for @imagining-in-the-margins's monthly challenge, which was themed "Damsel/Dude in Distress" this month! I am so excited to finally be participating in another one of these! I obviously went with the Royalty!AU prompt, but it was actually quite hard to pick a prompt because they all intrigued me a lot!

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lanitalay · 2 months

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Among Flames and Starlight Chapter 4

A/n: ok so THIS IS VERY FUN EXCITING CHAPTER FOR THIS STORY.

Warnings: slut shaming, a lil blood, beron

Word count: 3.4k

Other Chapters

His maroon sleeve brushed against her bare arm. As fast as she could, Irene clasped her hands together on her lap. Cassian grumbled, picking up his glass of wine and downing it in one gulp. He signaled for one of the servants to fill it again and asked them to “not let it get empty.” Cassian was the only one of the Night Court with her, Azriel had been instructed to accompany Victoria as she was assigned to a different table tonight and Rhysand was sitting with his mother.

“Good evening” he greeted. Gods, his voice. She had never heard him speak. Earlier he had remained silent and the group left before he had the chance to say anything. If Irene knew how melodic it was she would have lingered. Drops of blood gathered in her palms as she pierced her skin with her nails. That was a completely inappropriate thought. He was a monster. Cassian tipped the glass his way in lieu of speaking. Irene nodded in acknowledgement.

“You’re not usually this civilized soldier,” Eris remarked. Irene reached for an embellished linen napkin and wiped her hands clean. Cassian leveled a look at him that promised hurt, vengeance. “It takes all of my self control to not rip your throat out” the Illyrian replied in a steady voice.

“You’re not still upset about the ordeal with Morrigan are you? That was so long ago I’ve basically forgotten about it” Irene’s brows shot up and she looked to Cassian, who was sitting across from her. His hands balled up in fists, nostrils flaring and lips pulling back to reveal sharp canines. Before he could say-or do- anything Irene interjected.

“It’s disappointing that you are exactly what everyone says.”

Eris turned his head to fully face her but Irene did not meet his gaze, focusing on the bread in front of her. She was spreading butter on a roll as Eris responded “you speak? I thought Rhysand had you as a muted little wh-” Cassian slammed his fist on the table causing the cutlery and porcelain to rattle. “That’s enough, Eris.” Irene’s face was red. Neck, cheeks and eyes burning.

“You reek of him, you know? It 's nauseating.”

Irene turned her head and looked directly into his honeyed eyes. Shame pulsing through her veins for having admired them hours before. “Rude, vulgar, hot headed, unintelligent and weak. Wasn’t your father considering his heir might be the youngest Vanserra? What’s his name? Lucien?” She picked her glass of wine and sipped, feigning nonchalance. “I suggest you don’t burn all the bridges you have with other courts, emissary might be the only position left for you after your kid-brother ascends the throne.”

“I don’t consider an exchange with an Illyrian bastard and a half-blood concubine to be detrimental to my diplomatic relations.” Cassian picked up the sharpest knife in front of him and made to lunge forward. His raised hand was stopped by his shadow who promptly dragged him out of the hall. Irene threw her napkin on the table and followed after them.

“Cassian, you didn’t have to lose your cool like that, now Celene will hear about it and probably the High Lord and it will be a bigger mess” Irene reprimanded her friend while he watched her pace the length of the sitting room in the apartments. “He was running his mouth, Ire. He has no reason to insult you. It’s fine if it's just me, but he doesn’t even know you.” Irene squeezed between her brows, in an attempt to alleviate the tension then asked “how long is he going to be chained like that?” Cassian’s appointed babysitter had chained him to a column, instead of taking him to the dungeons, upon Irene’s insistence.

“When the High Lord orders me to free him, he will be freed.”

“Mother above,” Celene’s voice made Irene flinch. She would not want to be at the end of the glare Cassian was receiving. Beside her, Rhysand tried to suppress a shit eating grin, Azriel shook his head in disapproval and Victoria’s eyes bulged from her head.

“Explain, now” the Lady demanded.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Irene fanned her face white an artisanal fan that Victoria had insisted she pack. It was useful as they stood under the blaring sun. The new docks Tarquin had ordered were enormous. There was a ship docked at every bridge and even more littered across the turquoise bay. They were being inaugurated today. Six ships destined for each of the courts, excluding Summer, were lined up in the middle of the docks. Each High Lord stood behind their designated ship with a bottle of sparkling wine. It was a pristine day for a sail, the skies clear and a steady breeze was sweeping from the East.

Tarquin was finishing up a speech about this new chapter for the Courts and how “prosperity will reign upon the land.” Irene was sweating, the fan not doing enough. It did not help that Eris was next to her and he seemed to radiate heat. She had tried her best to move to another spot but the crowds were packed tightly on the narrow bridge to the docks. It was not meant for holding such a large group of fae, it was built so merchants could anticipate which ships were rolling in. She was biting her tongue because something told her he was doing it on purpose. Manipulating the temperature so that she’d be miserable.

Victoria had soothed her last night, saying that everyone had petty dramas with other courts “Rhys can’t stand Tamlin, he plays nice but only to keep the peace and Cassian has an enemy in probably every court.” But Irene wasn’t thrilled about having Eris for an enemy, if that’s what it was.

She counted each flap of her fan, each mast on the ships, everytime Tarquin said the word “prosperity” and she counted the seconds that passed. Even if it seemed that time had stopped in this excruciating moment.

It was indeed passing, if ever so slowly.

The six ships set off and the High Lords threw the bottles of sparkling wine until they collided on the wood, dousing the stern with the bubbly nectar. The crowd cheered and promptly left the bridge. Irene remained in her place since the person beside her refused to move. “Do you mind?” She asked him. “What’s the hurry?” Eris retorted, “can’t handle the heat?” Irene rolled her eyes and waited for the crowd to thin out before going around him and finding her friends. She walked until she reached the shade under a large tree and breathed in the summer air. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced. The salt opened her airways, it felt like breathing for the first time.

Velaris seemed cruel compared to Adriata.

Sharp, familiar talons scraped along her mental shields and Rhysand told Irene where to meet him. “There you are, darling” he smiled as she neared him. He held out his hand, Irene looked to see if anyone else was around before taking it. “You don’t have to be so paranoid, even if people found out about us it wouldn’t be a big deal.” He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

“You won’t get called a whore and concubine but I will, Rhys.” He stopped walking, turning to her “who said that to you?” She shook her head “I don’t feel like talking about it.” Realization flashed across his features “it was Eris, right? That’s why Cassian got locked up?”

“Can we not talk about it?” Irene pleaded.

“Why didn’t you just tell me? Why didn’t he?”

She took a deep breath. “I would have been mortified if he told your mother and your sister that Eris Vanserra said I reek of you, that I’m your plaything. So he omitted those details because it was embarrassing. Now, please let's just have a nice day at the beach.”

Rhysand relented and winnowed them the rest of the way. When Irene opened her eyes again she was in awe. They were in a small cove. It was just about the size of her bedroom in the town house. White and smooth sand, a coral reef protected the beach so there were no waves. It was a crystalline pool of pure blue. “This is where I wanted to take you, I found this beach years ago and it's always empty.”

“It's breathtaking, Rhys.” She turned and stepped on her tiptoes to kiss him. He placed his hands on her thighs, signaling for her to jump and wrap her legs around him. She did and then the kiss deepened. Her fingers ran through his hair and she pulled his face away just a bit to say “thank you for bringing me here.”

It was a scene she would have loved to freeze. To live in forever. They swam in the water, lounged on the sand, made love under the shade of a palm tree without the worry of someone seeing them. She wanted this forever.

Him, forever.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Irene stared at her reflection yet again. Tonight was the grand ball, signaling the end of the celebrations. Her gown tonight was a dark violet color, the fabric weaved with reflective fibers that made it shimmer. The fabric was silky and it cascaded around her curves beautifully. The top covered her chest and wrapped around her neck like a halter. Her back was fully exposed down to just above her underwear. Victoria insisted she put her hair up to show the dress off. So she pinned her locks into a tight bun, adorning it with a silver hair piece to match the bracelets and earrings she wore. She lined her eyes with kohl and tinted her lips in a deep berry shade.

When Rhysand saw her walking into the sitting room he knew it was over for him. He wanted to cage her against the wall and draw out all of the little noises he loved so much. Wanted to kiss every inch of her exposed skin. Wanted to see her only in the bracelets and earrings. He maintained his composure and with gritted teeth watched as she looped her arm with Azriel’s. He would be her escort tonight, since Cassian was freed from the chains but forbidden to attend the ball, or any other event. And, since Rhys would be dancing with a list of prearranged matches, all with females who could offer potentially advantageous connections.

His father had made that list and one for Victoria as well.

When the entourage entered the Grand Ballroom the party was in full swing. Dancing, drinking, eating and a fair bit of laughing transformed the marble lined room into a paradise of indulgence. Rhysand was quickly ordered to dance with a female from Winter. She was gorgeous but he could not help the way his eyes searched for Irene in the crowd. He relaxed when he saw her drinking wine and chatting with Azriel near the spread of food.

“Do you want to dance?” Azriel asked, pointing to the whirl of revelers. “I do, there’s this one dance I’m dying to do. Hopefully they play it tonight.” He takes her hand and they join in the dancing. They are two songs in when the band starts playing a familiar intro. “This is it, Az!” He grimaces “I don’t know this one.”

Irene frowns and says “oh, that’s fine, let’s just get something to drink instea-” Rhysand steps in front of them “I know this dance” and offers a hand. He knew it because she had taught him the basic movements of it on the beach. Irene beams and takes it, he swiftly leads her back to the dance floor where everyone else has positioned themselves. Right on queue the song moves into the first verse. All of the couples dance in a waltz around the room.

“You’re doing great,” Irene reassures Rhys, who is leading her carefully to not crash into anyone else. Mind to mind he says “you’re making me crazy tonight, I’ve never seen a more beautiful creature” and smiles when he notices the blush staining her cheeks. “Now you spin me and dance with the person behind you, one, two, three-” he spins her and she lands in the arms of Varian, the High Lord of Summer's cousin. “Good evening, Lady Irene.” She quirks a brow, “how do you know my name?” He spins her once but brings her back to him and answers “I sent out your invitation, upon the insistence of Victoria.” They separate but their hands remain clasped as they circle each other “oh! Thank you so much, she never mentioned who she had to bribe.” He places his hand on her waist again “it’s no problem, only next time leave Cassian at home.” Irene laughs “will do.” He spins her one more time and she reaches her final partner.

Rhysand clenched his jaw so hard he thought he might chip a tooth when he saw who Irene was dancing with.

She suppressed a groan and an insult when Eris placed his hand on her back and grabbed her right hand with his own. Stay silent. Don’t engage. Look anywhere but him. “Your lordling seems to be unhappy with your current dance partner.” Eris is smirking when she meets his gaze. “So am I.”

He spins her once, not missing a beat. “He doesn’t like to share his toys, never has.” His lips graze her ear. Irene hisses. He spins her again, but instead of having her return to face him, he presses his chest against her back in a new variation of the dance. This makes her have a clear view of Rhys and his obvious scowl. “What was your name again?”

His voice brings her back to the moment. “Irene,” she answers flatly.

“I meant your last name,” he spins her and they are face to face again. “Vallier.”

“I thought you looked familiar, I knew a Vallier during the war. Sad old male. Never understood what he was doing on a battlefield.” On instinct Irene dug her nails into Eris’ hand, deep enough to draw blood, and snapped “say one word about my father and I’ll have your head.”

He chuckles, “it’s funny that you think you have some sort of upper hand.” They separated except their hands, now smeared in blood, circling each other. “You’re an ass,” Irene spits at him. She flinches as his palm becomes scolding. Her own searing in pain. She curses loudly. Eris leads her through the final movements in a blur of precision. She centers herself to the music. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. She returns to Rhys, enraged.

“What happened?” He asked through her mind. Irene shook her head, not wanting to relive the last few moments so soon. What he said about her, about her father. It crossed a line. “Let’s just finish the dance” he nodded and continued to spin her through the final movements of the song. When it was over Rhysand held onto Irene’s right hand and inspected it. It felt rougher now, when he saw the burns on her fingers he tensed and when he saw the blood under her nails he stopped in his tracks. “He did this to you?”

“Yes, now let’s get something to drink-” before she could finish her thought he was storming through the crowd, aiming straight towards Eris. Azriel, who had been observing the whole scene, intercepted him and dragged him out of the ballroom. Irene was right behind them when Victoria saw her and began telling her about how well a member of the Winter Court dances and how he never missed a beat. Irene concluded that Azriel could handle Rhysand; she would speak with him later that night.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“I’ll kill him for this, Irene.” He said her hand in his, as he pressed a kiss to each of her scorched fingers. “It’s basically healed and I’m not a reason for another war. But I appreciate the sentiment.”

“It wasn’t a joke, his days have been numbered since he left Mor for dead.” Irene pursed her lips, “hey, tomorrow we go back home and we can forget this happened. Let’s just say that for us, the trip ended this afternoon at the beach.” She leaned in and kissed his lips, then his cheeks and then she kissed down his neck. Rhysand groaned and Irene could feel the vibrations as she continued to kiss his chest, unbuttoning his shirt along the way.

He stopped her, putting his hand on her chin and lifting her face to meet his gaze. “I swear to you, if he ever hurts you again, I will kill him.” Irene furrowed her brows as she felt a tingle along her ribs. “Why would you swear something like that?” Her heart sped up.

A bargain was not unimportant and Rhsyand had just chosen to mark both of their bodies with the promise of retribution. If he was willing to leave a mark so permanent… maybe her feelings were not as one sided as she thought. Maybe he loved her too.

“Because I can’t stand to see him getting away with hurting the people I care about.” A pang in her chest brought her back to reality. He cared about her, she adored him. It was not the same.

“Right, well, hopefully for him he never sees me again,” she forced a laugh, then a yawn. “It’s been a long day, Rhys, I should get some sleep.” He nodded, stood from her bed and left with a kiss goodnight.

Irene finished packing the trunks she had barely riffled through and went to the apartment dining room for breakfast. She was the last one to sit down, everyone else was already halfway done with their food. “Good morning,” she greeted. While it was thrilling to be out of Velaris for the first time, she missed her home dearly. She missed the stables, the horses, the libraries, the priestesses, the dance lessons, her room... She did not miss the biting cold however, and would be sad to say goodbye to the warm weather. Even if she did not enjoy sweating, it was better than being halfway frozen anytime she stepped outside.

The table grumbled a collective “morning.” Irene made herself a plate and sat down. She stiffened when the High Lord walked in, he did not usually join them for meals. “Vallier,” he said her name in a way that made her cringe. “Yes, sir?”

He remained standing. “Are you ready to go?” She scrunched her brows and answered “I just finished packing everything.”

“Very well, take her away.” Irene’s eyes bulged as two guards dressed in orange and green uniforms rushed into the dining room.

“What is going on?” Celene asked, standing from her chair. The High Lord motioned with his hand for the guards to go on. They grabbed each of Irene’s arms, yanking her from her seat. “Beron has been pestering me about a bride ever since Morrigan soiled herself. So I’m getting him-” he pointed to Irene now “and her off my back.”

“What?” This time it was Victoria, “you can’t just sell her off. It 's not right-” He silenced her with a snap of his fingers and she scratched against her throat as she attempted to fight back, but her powers were no match against a High Lord’s.

Rhysand and his mother shared a look “she’s a member of this court-” but then he was silenced too. “She is not a member of the court, she is property of it and I have determined this is the best use of her.”

Celene asked, “Who is her betrothed?”

“I believe it is the oldest Vanserra.”

Irene had no words. None. Nothing she could say to stop it from happening. Nothing she could say to encapsulate the way her heart had sunk to her stomach. How Cassian and Azriel had paled. How Victoria’s eyes were red and watery as she watched Irene be dragged from the table. How Rhysand seemed to be paralyzed, only his erratic blinking an indication of distress.

She remained silent all the way from the apartments to the landing balcony, where nine fae, all with red hair, were waiting.

Waiting for her.

Beron looked her up and down, assessing.

“She’ll do,” he said. Eris strode over to her and grabbed her arm with a too warm hand. She made to pull away, to run and scream for help. But his grasp was firm.

Before she could shout they were already in Autumn.

taglist: @sidthedollface2 @acourtofbatboydreams

#acomaf #acowar #acotar #acofas #acotar fanfiction #acosf #azriel shadowsinger #rhysand #lucien vanserra #eris x oc #eris vanserra #eris acotar #mor #cassian acotar #cassian #night court #azriel acotar #azriel #summer court

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dawnagustd · 2 years

Text

encore || jhs (18+)

Part of the Jack N’ Jill Series: Encore | Danger! | Party Time

⇢ Drabbles: Kink Hours Drabble

⤏ playlist: Mesmerize by Ja Rule & Ashanti(I’ve decided that this is one of their theme songs) | What If by J-Hope | When I See U by Fantasia | Naughty Girl Remix by Beyoncé ft. Lil Flip

Story Guide: This installment takes place before Danger! and Party Time. However, it can probably be read out of order or as a standalone if you wish to read that way.

“Keep your hand flat. I’m almost done,” you stress as you secure the bandage with some tape.

It’s not the best work, but you had limited supplies in the band’s first aid kit. If you’d known it was this scarce, you would have stocked it up with supplies. You can never be too careful when it comes to safety.

“Why did you hit him anyway?”

Hoseok stares straight ahead, zoned out with his left knee bouncing up and down. A tick of his that only appears when he’s angry or anxious.

You call his name and tap his arm, snapping him out of it and regaining his attention.

“Hm?” he hums.

With an eye roll, you repeat yourself.

“I was talking about Viper. Why’d you hit him in the first place?” you ask, running your thumb over the dressing to see if it’s sturdy enough to last through the performance. He winces when you come in contact with his knuckle. “Sorry.”

“You’re good. And it’s just some bullshit. Don’t worry about it,” he insists.

But you aren’t dumb.

“It was about me, wasn’t it?”

When Hoseok’s eyes widen, you get your answer.

“Hey, it’s nothing,” he lies.

You turn away from him, looking at your nails to distract yourself from the ugly truth of your presence here. They’ll never like you, so why even try?

“Maybe I should stop coming around,” you suggest. “This isn’t worth it.”

He’s behind you before you can even finish speaking, turning you around so he can see your face.

“Stop that, all right. I asked you to be here, and they have to accept that.”

You nod, but you still aren’t feeling any better about it. You don’t care much about what people think, but you don’t want friends fighting over you. It makes you feel so shitty.

“Look at me,” he requests, then uses his finger to tilt your chin up. In moments like this, you must remind yourself to take a step back. Feeding into any thoughts of Hoseok being more than a friend is dangerous, and you know you shouldn’t do it. “I want you around. That’s all that should matter—”

The door bursts open, revealing the band’s bass player, Ty.

“Jay, we got a problem.”

The look on his face indicates that something is wrong.

Hoseok scoffs. “We,” he points between himself and the man standing at the door, “sure do.”

“Uhh, sorry, bro. But there really is a huge problem,” he informs.

“Okay, spit it out. I don’t have all night.” Hoseok’s annoyance has him all tensed up, and you absentmindedly place your hand on his back, relieving some of the pressure momentarily.

Ty gazes at the site with curious eyes but thankfully asks no questions because you have no explanation on why you did it or why he actually relaxed under your touch.

“Well, um…Viper just quit, and we’ve got ten minutes until showtime,” Ty finally confesses.

Hoseok doesn’t bat an eye. However, your stomach drops to the floor. This isn’t good. Now you’ll definitely be kicked out of the circle. Viper’s the band’s drummer. They can’t perform without him.

You’re about to open your mouth to offer an apology and to plead with Hoseok to allow you to speak with Viper, but he speaks up before you can even find the words.

“Okay,” he shrugs. “Fuck him. Go check the equipment and make sure the bastard didn’t take anything. I’ll be out there in a second.”

Ty stands there in shock, his expression looking similar to yours. When he doesn’t move, Hoseok loses his patience.

“Dude, why are you still standing here?” His arms stretch out with an aggravated huff. “Go!”

The man scrambles out of there before Hoseok can throw another punch, and you stand in utter disbelief. How is he not upset? And how is he going to put on a show without a drummer?

Although, your answer comes sooner than later.

“You got your sticks, right?” he asks while grabbing his black leather gloves.

You nod.

“Yeah, always,” you confirm. “Why?”

The moment Hoseok throws you a smirk, your knees become weak, though you aren’t swooned for long.

“It’s time to use them,” he says, looking in the mirror to fluff out his hair. “Let’s go.”

But instead of following him, you stand in the same spot, babbling any excuse that comes to mind. Hoseok walks over to you and starts pulling you towards the door.

“I-I can’t go out there!... I don’t have an outfit…What if I mess up?... My braces are still on!”

Hoseok silences you by placing his finger on your lips. He chuckles, finding your panic amusing.

“First of all, you look hot. Second, you were at my place every day while I was writing these songs,” he tells you. “I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t know you could do it.”

“But—”

“You’re gonna be fine, ma. Don’t worry,” he assures, giving you those soft eyes that he knows will leave you a mess. “Just keep your attention on me, and you’ll never miss a beat.”

You have no idea what that means, but it has your pussy leaking like a waterfall. Your thoughts are clouded by whatever delusional haze that has come over you as you allow yourself to think this man is flirting with you. You agree before you can change your mind.

“All right, I guess I’ll give it a try,” you sigh. “I’ll get my stuff and meet you on stage.”

“Yes,” he triumphs briefly and wastes no time making his way to the stage.

However, you call his name before he departs.

“You aren’t going to wear your hat?” You point to the jester cap on the “dressing room” couch.

“Nah, it’s too hot. Don’t be too long, babe.”

And then he’s gone, leaving you with your mouth open and your legs wobbling.

Hoseok hasn’t had a haircut in over a month. How in the hell are you supposed to survive when he's out there looking like the three letters of sin?

“I’ll try,” you mumble as you stare at the empty hallway.

You stand there until you hear them calling your name, and then you have no choice but to go out there and face your fears—or your desires, you should say.

“I have to give it to you, _____,” Yoongi compliments. “I’ve been playing with these guys for years, and I don’t think Viper could ever capture your stage presence.”

Ty chimes in. “Shit, tell me about it. Did you see those chicks on the front row telling Jay to move so they can throw her some kisses? That was hot, and I laughed my ass off.”

Both of them retell the events of the show, but you can’t find yourself cheering. You were initially nervous, but once the music started and the crowd’s applause vibrated the stage, you felt an unexplainable rush that took over your body.

Now you’re just worried if it was too much. You’re afraid you’ve overstepped, and Hoseok may be angry with you. You’ve been avoiding him since you got off the stage, but you know you can’t run forever.

“Hey, _____. Jay wants you to come backstage when you get a chance,” one of his groupies calls from the doorway of the entertainment hall.

“Okay. Did he say why?” you ask out of curiosity.

“I’m not a messenger. Ask him yourself.”

Her attitude rubs you wrong, and it makes your eye twitch. You take a deep breath to calm yourself as she disappears into the corridor.

“We’ll catch you later. Better see what he wants,” Yoongi teases, and you give him the best smile you can muster up.

Knowing Hoseok is waiting for you, you don’t stall. You make your way towards the room you were in earlier with a fast-beating heart.

The door is cracked, but you still knock before you enter. Your hand searches for the light switch as you close the door behind you, but a force traps you against the wall before you can do so.

Even in the poorly lit room, you can make out Hoseok’s handsome features and curly hair. His body is pressed against yours, causing you to tense up for a brief moment.

“Shit, you scared me,” you squeak, eyes wide. “Is something wrong?”

“Nope. I’m just a little jealous.” His smile is genuine but sinister.

You take a gulp before you answer, swallowing back a feeling you know you shouldn’t feel when he’s this close to you.

“Jealous of what?”

“You know how you behaved out there. Don’t play with me,” he scoffs, his smirk still evident.

“Oh. Sorry about that.”

“Sorry? For what?” he asks.

“I guess for getting too wild. I know that’s your thing.”

His head shakes, and his hair covers his dark eyes. You plant your hands on the wall behind you to support your trembling legs. A part of you wishes he’ll create some space between you.

“Am I making you uncomfortable or something?” Hoseok quizzes.

“What?! I mean, no. Of course not,” you laugh nervously.

He leans closer, and the smell of him invades your nostrils. You instantly become drunk off of him just standing there, inhaling his scent.

“I was about to say,” he whispers in your ear. “You didn’t seem shy earlier.”

“What do you mean?”

You hold a breath, waiting for him to back off, but he never does.

“When you were checking me out,” he reveals, and you nearly sink to the floor. “You were peering over, trying to see me. They told me, you know.”

“Um…”

You have no argument. There’s nothing you can say because it’s true.

The growling, the dick grabbing, his wet fucking hair. You couldn’t catch a break. Then to make matters worse, he started thrusting the air. You couldn’t see him clearly since his back was facing you, but the reaction from the crowd told you everything. You craved to see more, but unfortunately, your position prevented you from doing so.

“If you wanted me to show you some more, all you had to do was ask,” he informs, using his hips to grind against you.

Your mouth falls open slightly, but nothing comes out. There are no words to describe the thoughts going through your head. Your body is tempted to join him, but thankfully he laughs before you can give in.

“I’m just fucking with you,” he chuckles. “You did good, ma. I’m proud of you. That energy was incredible.”

After you give him a tight smile, he continues.

“The position is yours if you want it.”

“Yeah, of course I do,” you answer truthfully, and he congratulates you.

You release a sigh when he withdraws, and it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“What’s up with you?” he asks immediately.

Fuck.

“Nothing,” you lie.

“Really?”

He walks over to you again and tries to read your expression. His fingers poke at your sides playfully to get a reaction.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Move, please,” you groan, trying to walk around him, but he grabs your waist.

It’s not uncommon for you two to be touchy when no one’s around, but you don’t trust yourself tonight. You might react inappropriately and can’t handle that kind of embarrassment.

“Can you stop it?” You push him away, and the game changes; he’s no longer his playful self.

Without another word, he spins you around and corners you once again. Your back hits the wall with a small thud, but it's only because the back of his hands block the impact. You stare at him like a deer in headlights, knowing that you’re in deep shit.

If there’s one thing you know about Hoseok, he’ll draw the truth out of you.

“Sorry, but something’s wrong,” he tries again. He whispers, “Is it girl stuff?”

You sigh defeatedly.

“Something like that,” you admit.

The ridges on Hoseok’s face become more defined as he tries to decipher what that could mean.

“It’s a guy, huh?”

Your reaction proves your guilt. “What?! No!”

“A girl?”

“Uhh…”

“You can tell me, you know?” he assures, and you crack at the sight of the softness within his eyes. Most of the time, he’s rough around the edges, but he’s caring when he needs to be.

“Yeah, it’s a guy,” you confess.

His expression is unreadable, but still, you feel a bit of disapproval radiating from his body.

“So, you’re his now? And I’m not allowed to touch you?” he concludes.

“Wha–No, Jay. I swear that’s not it.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s you,” you blurt out, slapping your hand over your mouth.

Hoseok goes from pissed to shocked, and you quickly try to escape the embarrassing moment you’ve created for yourself. Why couldn’t you just have kept your mouth shut?

“Wait a minute.” He takes a step back but holds up his hand to stop you. “You need to explain what you mean by that. I can get someone else if you don’t want to talk to me.”

“It’s nothing like that. I promise,” you assure.

“Okay, I figured. But still, what’s up?”

“It doesn’t matter. I just need to go. It’s late.”

But he doesn’t move.

“Where are you going?” he questions. “Your parents letting you in at this hour?”

When you got off stage earlier, you already had 23 missed calls. He should already know the answer to that question.

“No, but I don’t think I can come over to yours either,” you inform. His head tilts, curiosity probably flooding his thoughts. “I’m not myself tonight, and I don’t want to say or do anything stupid.”

“Like…?”

You shrug your shoulders.

“Tell you the things I think about you probably? I’ve already slipped up once.”

You lower your head, but he tells you to look at him.

“So you’re trying to tell me that you like me or something?” he quizzes, searching your face for answers. “You know the rules, right?”

You nod. “Members can’t date each other, and that includes fucking.”

“So you know that nothing can happen, right? I’d be a hypocrite.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know how it happened, but I swear it was never my intention. I know how much the band means to you, and it means a lot to me too, and—”

“Shh,” he whispers, bring a finger to his mouth. He comes closer and leans down, bringing his face only an inch away from yours. Your breath hitches as soon as your eyes meet, and you’re left wondering what will happen next. “This is our secret, okay?”

After you agree, the softest kiss is placed on your lips. Your eyelids flutter shut, and your palms find his chest to ground yourself. His hands return to your waist, but as the kiss deepens and the moment heats up, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer.

A soft moan emits from your throat when he slips his tongue inside your mouth, exploring aimlessly and becoming greedier as the seconds pass.

You start to feel more confident and begin run your hands over his body, noting how firm he is with each gentle squeeze. Your mind is left jumbled and hazy by the time his lips abandon yours. A whine threatens to escape, but you catch it at the last second.

When your eyes open, you stare at each other as you process the intensity of the minute-long moment shared between you. Heat creeps up your neck because, despite the many kisses you’ve shared with others while making out, this is the first time you’ve felt this overcome with lust from the small act alone.

Your mind races with many thoughts because you aren’t sure of what Hoseok is thinking until he speaks.

“I’m probably going to regret this…” he says before hooking his hand behind your thigh. He lifts your leg and then taps the other one. “But, come here.”

You hop in his arms, and he carries you across the room to a large wooden table.

He lays you on top of it and slips his hand under your skirt, snatching off your panties in one swift motion. You prop yourself up on your elbows and use your foot to push yourself back. Once both feet are on the table, he spreads your legs and drops to his knees.

Hoseok curses when your pussy is revealed to him, and he brings his face in close proximity. He inhales deeply as his nose travels along your inner thigh and eventually finds itself against your cunt. He breathes in your scent with a satisfied hum, like he’s been dying to smell you forever.

“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to taste this pussy,” he comments, giving your clit tiny kitten licks. “Fuck, you’re gonna be crying when I’m done.”

“What–Oh, shit!”

His tongue flattens and licks up your slit, making you tremble in his grasp. The first intrusion is breathtaking and unlike anything you’ve ever felt. Hoseok does not show any fear when he dives into your center and doesn’t hold back any thought that runs through his mind.

He laps up your juices and makes out with your pussy as feverishly as he did your lips. Your hands form fists as you fight through the sensitivity.

“So fucking sweet,” he moans against your heat. “You taste so fucking good.”

“Please.” The plea erupts from your throat without much effort, without even knowing what you’re asking for. However, Hoseok seems to know what it is you need.

“Come on my tongue. I don’t mind.”

He sucks in your clit between his lips and your back arches. The volume of your voice leaves your ears ringing, not even caring if someone outside of the room could hear you. The tears Hoseok promised begin to roll down your cheeks as the first real orgasm of your life takes over your body.

Your limbs stiffen when he nibbles on your sensitive bundle of nerves and robs you of the only breath that remains in your lungs.

“Be as loud as you want, baby. It’s just us.”

He finishes by cleaning up your arousal, licking you into oversensitivity while your body squirms to get out of his hold. “Don’t run from me,” he tells you, and you’re forced to lay there while being drained of all your energy.

You’re still whimpering when he makes his way up your body, kissing you and allowing you to taste yourself on his lips. He chuckles when you moan into his mouth.

“Fuck, this is a bad idea,” he says after he pulls away. He mumbles while pondering and trying to determine if it is worth the risk. If you’re worth the risk.

The fate of the entire band lies in his hands, and every decision he makes is crucial to its existence.

“You don’t have to. I would understand if you didn’t.”

“What if I think you look too good to resist?” he asks. A smile cannot help but spread on your face, knowing that your feeling for him is mutual.

Feeling bold, your hands move up his shoulders, and your fingers entangle in his curly wet strands. You catch on to your mistake and withdraw quickly. Hoseok doesn’t like when people touch his hair. You vividly remember how he kicked everyone out when some girl tried to run her fingers through it once.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize. “I got carried away.”

His response is not one you expect. “You’re good, ma.”

Goosebumps raise on your skin as his glove-clad hands travel up your thighs, pausing once they reach your skirt. He tugs at it gently while looking at you lying beneath him.

“You can touch wherever you want,” he permits.

As he leaves a kiss on your cheek, you relish in the silkiness of his locks. Quickly you get drunk from his touch and slip into a lust-induced trance. Hoseok’s lips travel lower, entering dangerous territory—drawing a sound from you that only your bedroom walls have heard.

“Jay…”

He freezes.

Your mind begins to scramble for excuses, but fortunately, you won’t need them.

“Don’t moan my name like that unless you’re trying to get fucked for real,” he warns you.

Curiosity leaves you practically begging to discover what it is he wishes to keep hidden.

“What if I do?... What if I want you like that?” he rests his forehead on yours to see your face while you speak.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he chuckles.

“How will I ever know if you won’t show me?”

“I shouldn’t, though.”

“Why not?” you ask him.

“You know why.”

“But you have my permission, and I don’t expect you to be my boyfriend afterward,” you assure, but he doesn’t say anything until you beg. “Please?... You can’t take me this far just to leave me hanging.”

“Fuck,” he curses. “That’s not fair.”

“But doubting me is?”

Hoseok breaks with a heavy sigh.

“Well, let me take you back to my place first, okay?” he suggests, gathering your skirt in his hands. “I wanna do it the right way.”

You notice how he reluctantly tries to pull it down but is torn between being patient or feeding into his desire. You hope that he’ll give into it with some encouragement.

“Hoseok, I can’t wait that long.” You wrap your legs around his waist, bucking into his crotch and taunting him carelessly. He grips the fabric a little tight after you gently tug on his hair.

“Babe…”

“I want you,” you whisper. “Now.”

“Then you have me, baby.”

His hands move to your shirt and make hasty movements to get it over your head. He doesn’t stop there because your bra is next to go, but he pauses before he rips it off you.

“You aren’t shy, are you?”

You take it off yourself, showing him all of your glory. The man has had his face buried in your cunt for nearly five minutes—shame no longer exists.

“Nope,” you reply.

“So fucking hot,” he says, spreading your legs wide. “But so delicate and sweet.”

His hand runs along your inner thigh while he digs inside his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. He opens it and explores its compartments before pulling out a condom.

“Are you nervous?” he asks you, tearing the foil with his teeth.

“Yeah, but I’ll be okay.”

“Eager, are we?” he teases.

“Shut up,” you retort. Your eyes expand when he grabs your face, making you look at him.

“Make me.”

His fingers squish your cheeks together while he places the condom between his lips and unzips his pants with the other hand. He takes it and pumps his cock as he rolls it on, preparing himself for the warmth that awaits him.

When he pulls you closer, and the tip of his dick touches your heat, you realize that it’s really about to happen, and all the stories you’ve heard about the first time start to invade your mind.

“You sure you want to, right?”

You take a deep breath to calm yourself and reply. “Yeah.”

He nods, then brings his cock to your entrance.

“Don’t let me hurt you,” he tells you, probing the thin barrier that blocks his entry. “Just relax.”

You can only shake your head in understanding because words are impossible to form right now.

You start clawing at his back, trying to hold onto something and cope with the overwhelming fullness. You try to speak, but the intrusion leaves you gasping. There’s a bit of stinging, but the pressure and intensity make you feel like you’re about to explode.

“I know it’s tough, but you gotta let me know how you’re doing, babe.”

“Do something, please.”

“Huh?”

“Fuck me or something. Don’t just stay like this.” Thankfully, he understands what you mean and starts out with small strokes to test the waters. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to get more familiar with the feeling. “...So big.”

Hoseok can barely contain himself and releases a pained laugh while he also gets used to the feeling.

“No, you’re just really tight…and you’re squeezing the shit out of me,” he informs.

“I-Is that bad?”

“No, sweetheart,” he laughs. “It’s going to feel good for both of us in a second.”

He looks between you to watch the way your pussy takes him in, cursing and commenting on how pretty your cunt looks with him inside of it.

“Can’t believe this pretty pussy is wrapped around my dick. You don’t know how long I’ve been thinking about this.”

The discomfort starts to ebb away when he starts speaking to you. You linger on every word and relish in each compliment he gives you.

“Always teasing me in these little skirts like I wasn’t tempted to bend you over and fuck you where you stood,” he confesses. “I tried my best to behave, but you just couldn’t keep this pretty cunt to yourself, huh?”

“Jay,” you moan, not even realizing he’s picked up the pace.

The overwhelming feeling has dissipated, and all that remains is lust and the desire to feel another wave of pleasure wash over you.

“You wanted me to have it, huh? Wanted it to be mine, didn’t you?”

“I—”

“Your parents would be so proud if they knew you gave it up to me, wouldn’t they?” he mocks, amusement in his voice. Your walls tighten around his shaft, making him hiss and degrade you more. “I should tell them what a nasty girl you are.”

His thrusts become deeper, his cock entering your womb and pushing you further up the table on impact. Hoseok brings his hand up to your neck and pins you to the table while he fucks you as roughly as he pleases.

The other hand gropes your tits, swirling his fingers around your nipples to intensify your pleasure.

“You think they’d approve of this, hm?”

“No,” you rasp, eyes rolling back when he squeezes your throat. “They wouldn’t.”

“But you don’t care, do you?” he questions, and once again, you deny. “You’d rather be my whore than a good girl.”

“Jay, please.”

“Please what?” he teases, loosening his hold to let you breathe. “Does that pretty pussy want to come again?”

“Fuck, yes! Please, Hoseok.”

He laughs at your desperation.

“Using my real name and shit.” He snatches you up and pulls you to the edge of the table, making you look him in the eye. “Must be a desperate little whore.”

Without even thinking, you reply and shock him even.

“I am. I really am.”

The smirk that grows on his face is menacing, but it sends a pool of arousal gushing from your hole.

“Prove it,” he taunts. “Open your mouth.”

You do it without hesitation, and immediately he spits in your mouth, telling you to close and swallow without leaving a drop. You don’t bat an eye when you consume it and then open up to show him what you did.

Your obedience leaves his dick twitching inside of you, revealing that he’s also close to his release.

“Damn, I need to keep you around,” he says, mostly to himself. His words still boost your ego and leave you a drooling mess within his hold. “So good for me. Go ahead and come.”

He whispers as he stares at you with those lust-filled eyes, pounding you remorselessly and bringing more tears to your reddened eyes.

“You deserve it, pretty girl.”

The tightened coil within you snaps, and you can no longer fight off the urge to let go. You come with his name on your drool-covered lips, falling limp in his arms when you’re finally spent. Hoseok lays you down gently and pulls out of your heat, removing the condom swiftly and rubbing his dick until he squirts his cum all over your pussy.

His moans are so sexy as they fill your ears, and you lay there smiling at him, fucked out and in your post-orgasmic daze. When he’s finally spent, he removes gloves and starts to caress your body gently. You appreciate the delicate touch of his soft hands.

“You okay? Did I go too far?” he asks, you shake your head.

“I enjoyed it a lot,” you answer truthfully. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“This.” You gesture towards your tired body with a weak smile, earning a laugh from Hoseok.

“I should clean you up,” he points out, walking over to his bag to grab an extra t-shirt he has buried somewhere inside. He pauses as he’s searching and turns to you.

“Hey.”

You hum.

“You don’t have to say yes, so don’t feel pressured but umm…” he holds up his camera, “I just like to keep these. I don’t show anyone. I just—”

“I’m okay with it,” you confirm.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you nod, opening your legs so he can have a better view.

You swirl his arousal around and mix it with yours before shoving your fingers inside of yourself, wincing slightly from sensitivity.

“Fuck, just like that,” he encourages.

He snaps pictures and collects them as soon as they develop, lining them up next to you so you can see them once he’s done. They actually look nice, and you find yourself smiling as you look at them.

“You like them?” Hoseok speaks after you’ve been staring for a few seconds. “We can take some more at my place.”

“We can?”

“You want to?” he laughs.

“Of course! I look sexy.” You wiggle your brows playfully, and he shakes his head.

He helps you clean up and put on your clothes despite you telling him not to. You have to walk beside him and grip his arm for stability because your legs are shaky and wobbly. Both of you laugh as you depart. However, he turns to you before you get to his car.

“I know we said stuff while we were fucking, but I just wanna make sure our agreement is still intact,” he states, his tone becoming more serious.

“No, I still feel the same. I have to focus on school, and my parents would never approve, you know?... I don’t think it would be worth it, no offense.”

“Oh, I agree,” he assures. “Well, if it’s all good, let’s go to my place, and I’ll take you to your dorm tomorrow?”

“Sounds good,” you tell him, and it really did sound great.

But then he took you home and fucked you in every position the entire weekend. By Monday morning, you were sore, covered in his marks, and dick-whipped beyond the point of return.

That weekend was only a sample. The more time you spent together, the more you fucked each other, and the closer you two became.

You had to learn the hard way that friends with benefits usually never work in your favor.

#hoseok x reader #hoseok smut #bts smut #bts x reader #bts angst #hoseok angst #btsdreamcourt #bangtanbathhouse #bangtansorciere #bts imagines #hoseok fanfics #bts fanfics #sugakookitty

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autumnalsteahouse · 2 years

Text

because my first instinct is to write about my issues to make myself feel better,, I wanna talk about chubby reader and gojo satoru. (cw: body image issues, touching, gojo being very aware of everything, him subtly “helping” you— not that you needed “help” but he does things without verbalizing it and it’s really nice uhm, making out, grinding, implied stuff that’s definitely naughty)

he’s just so… known. so popular. even if people don’t like him, everyone knows him.

you? your mind went blank when you first saw him. probably one of the most attractive beings you’ve ever see in person… on his way to pluck a spot in line and order from your cafe.

when it came his turn, it was all smiles for him— bright and friendly, shaggy white hair making him almost blinding if it weren’t for those damn sunglasses. Those glasses that never let you know where those icy baby blues were looking, which only made you feel like you could never be… off guard. Every angle had to be right and the clothes you were wearing always has to be complimenting to your figure— which was not hard, but sometimes, especially under his gaze, it felt like it.

it didn’t take long to realize that speaking to him was really easy. like stupidly easy; despite the fact that you were subconsciously flirting with someone akin to a god. he had started coming in regularly after meeting you, sticking around even after he got his drink, “you put something in my coffee and I won’t leave until you tell me what it is.”

you thought it odd at first, what is he doing talking to me? But then you realized, maybe he liked how easy your interactions were— extreme notes of sarcasm and creating stories for random customers was as natural to the both of you as breathing. So natural that it made your confidence sky rocket to the point that it was easier and easier to let thoughts on how your body might look… simply slip away.

but it wasn’t that simple. not when gojo started to become more handsy after a few hang outs outside of work as the friendship progressed. just your typical arm around the shoulder and sometimes along the waist, fingertips ghosting your arm, hand on your thigh, and so on. you’d never actually push him off, too happy about the contact itself, but you’re sure he’s felt you stiffen up. you’re also sure he’s seen you attempt to subtly palm your stomach and/or capture the thickness of your side in your hand— but he didn’t do anything.. at first.

he never made it a big deal. he never wanted to have a talk with you about it. he never wanted to do anything that made you uncomfortable, but the first time he moved your hand away from your stomach was when you were just hanging out at your place and he asked you out on an official date. the gesture itself had been apart of a skit you two were going along with— laughing about how people on love island would ask each other out if they weren’t thrown into a tv show— when he actually asked you out.

you did it subconsciously and without changing the mood, he gently grabbed your wrist and put it back to your side. there was a moment, a pause where you didn’t know what to do and how to act— but you knew how you felt. you felt like crying. but you didn’t. instead you took a crumbling sigh, allowed yourself to take a few deep breaths, told yourself it was okay for your eyes to water, that it was okay to feel the way that you were feeling, that satoru wasn’t judging you— that he was there because he liked you for you and thought that you were attractive.

after your breaths, you gave him a watery smile and told him, “you better pick the most expensive place, because we at love island don’t go for second rate shit.”

+++ (the lil naughty bonus)

your first kiss together was one thing- a quick subconscious peck that wasn’t serious at first. he was leaving because nanami called him in and as he was heading out the door— about to leave you in your jammies with the remote controller in one hand and a tub of popcorn in the next— he leaned in and gave you a fast kiss as if he was on auto pilot. and for someone who’s always on guard, this startled him too as he pulled away with wide eyes and parted lips; you only mirroring his expression. “We will… unpack that when you get back.” you trailed off, still thrown in the loop.

and unpack that you did. when he came back, there was almost little to no time from when he came through the door to when his lips were on yours. fast and needy turned into sensual real quick, both of you finding your preferred pace and place. he couldn’t resist pulling you onto his lap— which only pulled you out of place for a second. the unwanted thought had roared in your ear the moment his hands gripped the soft plush of the meat around your hips. but as violent as the thought came, it fell deadly silent as soon as those big strong hands of his forcibly ground your core onto his hardening cock, gojo thrusting up against you.

“Ah fuck!”

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo fluff #gojo x you #chubby reader #gojo x chubby reader #jjk x reader #jjk #oh go’s I’m so sorry about this #it’s very personal #I was having issues last night and I wrote this half asleep #that’s why the ending is like that I am so sorry #it’s my first time writing anything in a WHILE #autumnal’s writing 🍂 !

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dadonbabysworld · 1 year

Text

Skz Reactions: You take your engagement ring off

Author’s Note: This is one of the most difficult but interesting stories I’ve written. I hope you guys like it. I forgot to mention the inspiration behind this was from @yangfleurs and her writing. Anyways, please let me know your favorite members story :)

Genre: angst & a lil hurt/comfort

Word Count: 5,052

Warnings: Mentions of motion sickness, fear of flights/heights, forgetting to eat, cursing, not wanting to get out of bed, home sickness, jealousy, other kpop groups besides skz, degrading words, previous death, and trauma.

Chan

It was stressful to be with Chan because he doesn’t spend much time at home. You rarely see each other but he makes up for it in his own ways. Most days are spent overthinking though.

Chan spent so much time helping you gain confidence and the ability to communicate. He is proud of the steps you have made in this journey even if it is against his own judgement.

He wanted to get you out your comfort zone a bit by taking you on vacation. The issue is you didn’t feel comfortable with flights over four hours. You get too in your head on top of getting motion sickness every time you fly. Longer than four hours is torture.

“I just don’t see the big issue babe. It’s only a six hour flight. I will try to find you some medicine for your motion sickness.”

“I don’t feel comfortable doing that Channie…”

“Babe you’ll love this place though. You like tropical weather and we can go surfing and stuff. It will be fun. Just you and me.”

“Chan we can go anywhere to have fun. I just cannot do it.”

“I already paid for it babe..”

“WITHOUT TELLING ME?! Chan! Now I have to go on a trip because you paid for it. Way to guilt me into going..” You got up from your seat next to him.

“Hold on. You know I didn’t do this on purpose.” He grabs your hand, looking up into your eyes.

“What? Did you think I was just gonna have nothing to say?” You questioned. He didn’t say anything simply looking away.

“You mister communication is important and boundaries are normal thought nothing about the future?! Respect my fucking boundaries Chan.” You pull away from him and place the ring in his hand before leaving.

He sits there looking at it for a while before coming into the living room.

“I think we should just call off the wedding.” Chan suggests.

“And what makes you say that?” You ask. Of course he didn’t come out here to apologize.

“You gave the ring back… you must not want it.”

“I gave it back because you didn’t fucking respect my boundaries. It is a warning. The next time you will lose me. Chan I don’t force you to experience discomfort or face your fears, and you shouldn’t do either of those things to me. If I forced us to go skydiving, you’d be upset.”

“No I wouldn’t. I’m not a giant baby like you. I actually can do things that make me uncomfortable. It’s about growth which you obviously don’t want if you’re never willing to do anything.”

You nod slowly and lean back. You see how he really felt about the situation. He doesn’t wanna get married to you. He is easily willing to call it off and insult you as well.

Minho

It was not a smooth journey for you and Minho to finally be engaged. Several on and off situations, the contacting each other on different accounts, and all the other bullshit got you where you are today.

You were not expecting to be engaged at this age especially after being so temporary with him before. You don’t even have a relationship date anymore because y’all were not together so much.

Minho was a lover and close to you, but somehow he still manages to push you to a level of rage you shouldn’t be feeling. He was just irritated so much. Every little situation made him mad, and his anger can be a lot.

He is working on his anger, but today was just a lot for you both. Being that you both had different schedules, you split responsibilities in order of who had time to do it. You took care of the pets in most cases. Besides dinner, Minho fed them dinner instead of you.

You just had forgotten to give them breakfast. They were more vocal than normal when he arrived home. You were in the shower. Knowing he would be home around that time, you got yourself together after having a breakdown to try to make yourself presentable.

He feeds them before coming into your shared room. “Baby?” He yells into the bathroom. “Yes?”

“Did you feed the babies? They seemed really starved.”

Oh shit. After being glued to the bed all of today, you realized you truly neglected all your responsibilities for today. “No.. I forgot!” You yell back. He sighs and comes into the bathroom. “Babe! You can’t keep forgetting about them. It’s the second day in a row. I might as well feed them all at night!”

“Well do that then!”

He growled as he grabbed the make up remover from the cabinet. “What the fuck do I need you for then? Can’t even care for our cats let alone future children.”

You cut off the shower and pulled the curtain back. “That’s not the same and you know it. I will literally remember our child.” You step out the shower and grab a towel.

“How do I know that? You can’t remember my children now. They’re important to me. I’m starting to think you’re jealous of them.”

“Jealous? Of some cats? Let’s be so fucking for real Minho.” You tell him drying off. You grab your lotion from the sink.

“Yes jealous. You get jealous over anything. Also, let’s not act like you have the maternal gene. You obviously let them starve today. Like I’m pretty sure you wish I would be nicer to you like them but then you do shit like this.”

“Shit like this?”

“Yes! Be unreliable like how are we gonna build anything together when you gon forget the nail’s then act like it’s not a big issue. Be making me question if you’re wifey material.”

You just leave the bathroom after that comment. You sit your engagement ring on the dresser as you get dressed. Hopefully he gets the message that you’re irritated with him. You go into the kitchen to check on the cats and to apologize to them.

As the cats crowd around you to get pet, minho comes into the room with your ring in hand.

“So now we’re forgetting our rings?” He asks.

“I’m not motherly and not wifey material right? Are you really surprised?”

“You’re a fucking child! Stop being stupid and put the damn ring on. You really mad at the truth. You need to work on yourself.”

“You didn’t even ask why I didn’t feed them. I’m DEPRESSED Minho. You don’t even give a fuck.”

“How would I know that?!” He yells in your face.

“MAYBE IF YOU GAVE A FUCK!” You say as tears roll down your face. “I fucking hate you. You’re a selfish bitch.” You push him away as you grab your coat and leave the house slamming the door.

Changbin

Changbin constantly makes you wonder if you were good enough for him. It was your difference in personality and lifestyle that made you wonder if you guys were compatible.

You didn’t argue much though. Just lots of misunderstandings. Nothing gets too out of hand. That is why you are shocked at the lack of care he has right now.

“What do you mean we can’t live in another country? I literally have been living here for you for years Changbin. I wanna spend some time home if possible.”

“When we get married, I want to start a family. We can’t be uprooting our family like that. It’s not good for a baby or children to leave super young.”

“Then let’s wait for them to get older before coming back. We will be leaving before I get 30 years old.”

“That’s asking a lot. We are secure here.”

“And asking me to move half way across the fucking world wasn’t a lot Changbin?!”

“Don’t start cursing and yelling. Let’s try to have a conversation not an argument.”

“Now you’re gonna tell me what to do? Why would I wanna get fucking married to you? We don’t even want the same things. You’re not willing to even compromise.”

“Compromise?! You just want it to go your way! You decided to stay here. How is that my fault? Be for real y/n. You really think I’m not compromising. You aren’t even understanding what I’m trying to say because you are so caught up in what you want to say in response.”

“Since I’m so uncompromising and not understanding. Marry someone else.” You throw the ring at him and walk away. He catches it and glances at it before walking up to you. He grabs your arm and leads you out the door.

“Let me go Changbin.” You try fighting with him, but his grip is too strong. He forces you to get into the car before getting in himself and driving off.

“We are gonna talk this out or you can leave and never come back again.” He states as he watches the road. He had no doubt you would just talk. You don’t really want him to be out of your life. That is unrealistic. You love him.

“I want to see my family Changbin… I want to go home.” You are nearly crying at this point.

“I understand that. I want that for you. I just don’t think we should be having a baby and doing that. We might just have to hold back on having children and getting married.”

“I just need this for my spirit. I want to do all those things with you. I just do wanna spend at least a year home. My parents are getting older. I wanna make sure they are okay and know if they are sound enough for us to stay living so far away.”

He just nods taking in everything you said. “I love you, and I am willing to do that with you. You have to acknowledge that we could go broke. I probably won’t be able to get a job so fast especially not knowing much about the land or culture…”

“Changbinn I’m not asking you to be perfect. I know this is going to be rough, but we have each other. I will try to make this as smooth as possible for us.”

He sighs and nods. “Okay but if we’re going broke within the first few months we have to leave. Promise me.”

“I promise Binnie.”

Hyunjin

You knew Hyunjin’s emotions very well because he was very open about them. His facial expressions revealed everything anyways.

That’s how you knew he was serious about this. You never once took Hyunjin for the jealous type. He was very secure in your status with him. Maybe it was that the guy was another idol.

You had attended a private party with the boys and lots of other famous celebrities were also invited. You decided to wear a simple red dress and heels. Nothing flashy as you were always impressive even in the worst clothes.

Hyunjin stayed by your side as much as possible. However, he didn’t expect you to get in a conversation with Hongjoong as soon as he walked away.

It was a simple conversation. He came over to ask what group you were in, but you cleared up any confusion.

“Oh no. I’m not an idol. I’m here with Hyunjin. That’s my boyfriend.” You explain to him.

“Oh okay. I was just wondering because I never seen you around. I saw you with Chan earlier, so I was wondering if he was hiding his friends from me.” You laugh and shake your head.

“I am friends with Chan, but he is also like my brother. Anyways, I’m y/n nice to meet you.” You bow a little.

“I’m Hongjoong from ateez. Oh here comes your man. I got to get going.” He says walking past Hyunjin and bowing some.

“Hyunjin”

“Hongjoong” he says bowing back before walking towards you. He grabs your arm and leads you to the bathroom. He locks the door once you both are inside.

“What the hell Hyunjin?”

“What the hell to me? What the hell were you and Hongjoong talking about? And why did he leave when I was approaching?!” He questioned, getting close to your face.

“First off”, you push his face back “Get the fuck out my face. Second off, why are you being so jealous right now? We talked about being an idol. He thought I was an idol, but I’m obviously not.”

“So he was trying to talk you up when I left? Fucking-“ Your laughs cut him off. You back into the wall laughing.

“What is so fucking funny?!” He yells.

“You. Look at you all jealous over nothing. I thought you were more secure and confident than this.” You inform him.

“I thought you were more trustworthy and beautiful than this. You look so ugly right now.” He says with a face that read disgust.

"If I'm so disgusting Hyunjin, find someone else to marry then!" You spat at him throwing the ring in his face and walking out the bathroom. Some of the idols in the room seemed to stop and stare in that direction.

He was embarrassed and angry. Chan came over to him and tried to talk him down, but Hyunjin locked the door behind you as he paced inside the bathroom. Tears of anger flowed down his cheeks.

Han

You haven’t seen Han in a few days. He comes home when you are already sleep, and he leaves before you could even wake up. He has been sleeping in the guest room. He tries to be discreet, but the bed hasn’t been made the same for a few days.

He must be mad about the argument and what happened. You never expected the silent treatment from him though. Your texts and calls left on delivered. He hadn’t blocked you just ignoring you on purpose. You tried to have a friend call, but he wasn’t answering anyones calls apparently. That was what you thought until you checked in with Jeongin.

You had went to get coffee together. Jeongin loved spending time with you because you were his friend. He knew something was wrong as soon as you were in his presence. He was just waiting for you to mention anything.

“Have you seen Jisung?” You ask him sipping on your coffee.

“Yes. He was in the studio yesterday with Chan. We recorded some guide’s yesterday nothing heavy.”

“Did he say anything to you about us..? Or anything alarming?”

“He didn’t say anything besides the song. The quietest I’ve seen him in months. He normally cracks at least one joke.”

You sigh. The tears were fighting to fall. Maybe you pushed him too far by not wearing the ring anymore. It was serious at the time tough. It was the only way you thought of getting your point across.

“What happened between you two?” Jeongin asks lowly.

You slowly start to explain what happened. It was truly a regular day. You had spent time together doing errands. After seeing families together, Jisung had a lot of baby fever. This wouldn’t be an issue normally; he just would get over it quickly. This time it felt a little overwhelming.

“Babeee are you sure we can’t just have one?” He questioned as he played with your hair.

“Yess. Children are not something I want at the moment, and we agreed on it. You want to get married first anyways.”

“We’re engaged.. that is good enough. I want a mini me or you. I love babies.”

You mumble “I don’t…” He side eyes you. He kisses your neck. “Come on baby. Don’t be that way.”

You push his head away and stand up. “No Sung.” He smacks his lips before watching you. “Damn we can’t just.. yk either?”

“No and you aren’t even taking me seriously.”

“Because I don’t understand the hold up, we’re secure right now. I won’t wait forever.”

You look in his eyes for any sign he was kidding. You turn to leave, placing your ring on the dresser. “How’s this for forever?” You ask before leaving out the room.

Jeongin gasps. “Damn y’all are done forever?”

You sigh and put your face in your hands. “I didn’t mean it.. I was hoping it just stopped the conversation. Apparently, it stopped all conversations.”

“Y’all need to talk. Try to fix that. He is gonna burn himself out working so much.”

“I can try, but he literally doesn’t even come home if I’m awake. He isn’t answering my texts or calls. I don’t know Jeongin.”

“Go to the studio then. He is constantly napping in there, so he will probably be working or sleeping. Either way you have him trapped.”

You end up at the guys studio thanks to Jeongin. You watch him through the door as he works. Lots of papers are spread around the room. He has written so much lately. Han always writes lyrics down on paper. Not too keen on keeping a virtual document.

You knock on the door before coming in. He panics almost before seeing it was you. You sit next to him in a chair as he continues. There you sat for ten minutes. He doesn’t acknowledge you, look at you, or anything. You could see some of the lyrics he wrote. It was different songs. One about being angry; another about apologizing for the pressure on you.

“Hanji.. I miss you. I know work is important, but can we please talk?”

“About what? We have nothing to talk about. When I find a place of my own, I will be out of your hair. For now I’m just working to make money for myself.”

“You don’t have to find a new place Jisung. I-” he cuts you off. “I need to find a new place because apparently we’re single forever.”

“I’m sorry I took the ring off. I didn’t mean it seriously.”

“Then just don’t say it. You don’t do shit like that on a whim. It really hurts… it has been so hard to be without you. I’ve seen you, and you don’t even seem sad without me.”

“Jisung-“

“Just leave please. I have work to do. Also, I still don’t have anything more to say. We argued, but you really hurt me. You threw the ring down like it was nothing.”

“I am trying-“

“LEAVE! I don’t want to hear it. You’re stressing me out and making me anxious.. just please leave.”

You nod and grab your things to leave. You look back at him from the door once more before leaving. He didn’t once look at you. Even by accident.

Felix

Felix and the boys didn’t go out often to clubs and things. Being celebrities and having busy schedules, they rarely had the time. When it does happen though, you don’t attend. Clubs aren’t your scene.

You prefer to spend time at home with your’s and Felix’s cat. He is very happy to have you home to play and nap together. Felix thinks it’s okay that you stay home. When he catches you two cuddling sometimes because he stayed out late, he finds it endearingly cute. Two babies.

Today though Felix came home rather drunk. He stumbled through the door putting his keys on the hook before sliding off his shoes. As he is going to hang his jacket, he sees you on the couch. He is startled and grabs his chest.

“Oh fuck y/n… say something next time. I almost died.”

You squint at him. Felix has great reflexes and senses so how drunk is he? “Are you drunk?”

“Maybeee” he hums putting his jacket on the coat rack.

“Did you drive home?” Silence. If looks could kill, he would be dead from the glare you are sending him. Even with his back turned he could feel you.

“Felix!”

“I’m sorry. I needed a way home.” He quickly apologizes and approaches you. He grabs your hands.

“Felix.. don’t be drunk driving! Is the car okay?!”

“Yes I only hit like one curb on the way home…”

“Felix! You know drunk driving is bad. I can’t believe you. Ask one of the guys next time to take you home. You could have killed someone or worse died!”

“But I didn’t. I’m here and everyone is safe.”

“You are not taking this seriously… you know I don’t play about this.” You warned him time and time again about drunk driving. A drunk driver killed your best friend in high school. It happened right after school as you guys were going to get boba together.

“It’s not that serious though? Everyone is okay. Babe I’m fine. I will go get the car fixed tomorrow okay?”

You tear up and push his hands away. “It’s not fine. How could you be so reckless after what I told you? Do you not care? I can’t even think about you rn. I don’t even want to.” You take the ring off and place it on the table before going in the bathroom and locking the door.

Felix stares at the ring before tearing up. How could you take off the ring he gave you? Did he fuck up that bad? Then it hit him. He cries softly to not attract attention from you. He felt like an asshole for almost making you relive your childhood trauma.

He comes and knocks on the door. “Babe I’m sorry for what I did. I shouldn’t have driven home drunk and made you worried. It is a big deal, and I’m sorry I possibly reminded you of the traumatic situation you experienced with your friend.”

You come out the bathroom after two minutes and hug him. You both had been crying. He rubs your back and kisses your head. Maybe he did care..

Seungmin

You had talked with Seungmin about your past before. Your relationship with your parents and siblings made you the way you are now. Sometimes you cut up on him. It wasn’t on purpose; it was your fight or flight kicking in.

He found it a little daunting at first because he didn’t expect it from you. He thought you were just sarcastic to be funny, but he soon came to realize you were conditioned to be that way.

You had a lot of issues you two were working with. One being deciding your love language since you were lacking a lot growing up. The two things that outweighed everything is words of affirmation and acts of service.

Seungmin didn’t understand you in that sense of wanting to do things for him. He was certainly more independent than most men you ever met let alone dated. It was nice sometimes, but you never get to show him any love.

“Min do you want breakfast?” You questioned as you were making your own food.

“No it’s fine. I will just have some yogurt and fruit.” He responded from the bathroom.

“I can prepare it for you if you’d like. I’m already in here, and I know you have a packed schedule today.” You offer wanting to be useful.

“No it’s fine. I got it. You relax. You have to work today just like I do.”

You just huff and continue making your breakfast. It felt wrong to not make him breakfast or do anything for him to help him get ready. The guilt was eating you alive even though he doesn’t see anything wrong in him caring for himself.

“Babe are you tired of me?” You ask him as he comes into the room. He shakes his head as he opens the fridge. “No not at all. Why?”

“Why can’t I ever help you in the morning? You don’t want me to iron your clothes, help style your hair, make you breakfast, clean up after you… you do everything on your own.”

“So that means I’m tired of you?” He questions as he looks at you. He had his yogurt and fruit in hand.

“Yes…? You just don’t always make me feel wanted. I don’t understand why you want me. I’m not doing any good for you.”

“I love you. I really do. I don’t need you to do those things for me. I just want you to be there for me mentally. I want a companion.”

“So I’m a pet?”

“Babe don’t start this. I love you and I’m not tired of you end of story. You don’t have to be living like you were with your mother. The weight of caring for the whole house is off your shoulders.”

“I just want to love you Seungmin…” your tears finally fall from your glossed over eyes. “I just want to feel wanted. I just can’t help but overthink this.. like how can you not want me to help you? Am I too incompetent in your opinion?”

“Why would I ask you to marry me if you are incompetent y/n?! You think of yourself so lowly and that is the problem. You shouldn’t need to care for me or have me talk your head up to feel worthy.” His words sting. How could he just invalidate your love languages.

“You know what? It’s fine. I don’t need this invalidation right now. Just eat your breakfast. I’m gonna go get ready for work.” You leave the kitchen with your food and close the door to your room.

After a while, you go in the kitchen and leave your plate in the kitchen before leaving the house for work. Seungmin sighs after hearing the door close. “No good bye huh?” He questions out loud. He goes into the room to grab his bag and phone charger. The shine of your engagement ring from the dresser is bright when the sun hits it. You left it there for him to notice.

And notice he did because you returned home to his ring next to yours. He didn’t send any texts or call once. You just nod and get in the shower. Once he returned, he did the same as you watched television in the living room.

You waited for him to get out the shower. You approached him as he got dressed. “So you didn’t wear your ring today?” You asked him. He nods and looks at you. “You started this. I’m only doing what you do.” You shake your head. “Sure.. I don’t invalidate your love language but you do it to me.”

He sighs, “you’re not gonna give this up are you? I only said the truth.”

“Okay whatever. I should just let it go because nothing ever matters to Seungmin.” You say grabbing the ring and going in the living room.

Jeongin

You stayed with Jeongin because you had fell on hard times, and he was your supportive boyfriend. Well, he was your supportive boyfriend.

It had been slightly hard on him supporting the both of you. Jeongin had expensive habits. He bought lots of clothes. As well as, he was a gift giver. His love language was gift giving for others. Also, he was barely home before so he saved lots of money on food. He ate out with the rest of skz, but you needed to eat at home.

You didn’t know he was struggling at all to make ends meet. You found out after overhearing him tell Chan. Chan was trying to be supportive and help him figure out ways to make things better. The guilt was heavy on your mind though. Jeongin didn’t seem happy anymore with you.

This must be the last straw. You feared the conversation with him. He asked you to wait up for him tonight. Normally he joins you in bed around 11 pm. You sat on the couch wrapped up in a blanket. Mind running kept you up at odd hours anyways. You haven’t gotten much sleep after finding out the news.

He walks in shortly after 10:30 pm. He sits next to you after leaving his shoes at the door. “Hey y/n.” You clear your throat before looking at him. “Hi Jeongin.”

“You’re probably wondering what I wanted to talk about. I just wanted to keep you in the loop. I don’t think I can afford to.. have you keep staying here.”

You heart dropped a little, but you were expecting this. “What am I supposed to do Jeongin? We’re supposed to be getting married. Is it not weird for us to suddenly not live together anymore?”

“You might have to start working then. It’s been months. The job market cannot be that dead.” He claims, sitting back to look at you.

“I wish it wasn’t but it truly is. I would literally have to go back to school to do anything. All the jobs that are constantly hiring I just don’t have the skills for them.” You explain to him. You felt tears forming in your eyes and your throat starts to be close slightly.

“Well maybe you need to do that. I just know I can’t do it for right now. I love you for sure, but I need something more than you’re giving me. Love isn’t paying the bills. I need you to leave.”

“Today?” You ask him as the tears ran down your cheeks.

“Preferably. I don’t wanna feel guilty and go back on my word.”

You just nod and wipe your eyes. “I don’t think I can do this Jeongin. I can’t pretend like I haven’t noticed the looks you have been giving me. You don’t love me the same, and it hurts to know you’re probably using this as an excuse to cover up your true feelings.” You explain through sobs and heavy breaths. He looks down at his hands, in a way, he confirmed your true fear.

“It’s okay though. It was good while it lasted. I will miss you, but I won’t be a dummy for you.” You get up slowly and place the engagement ring in his hand. You go into the room you both shared and packed the minimal amount of things you have. You don’t look at him before leaving.

He sits there looking at the ring for a while before placing it on the table. He goes to shower. He felt somewhat guilty, but he was glad you didn’t make a bigger deal about it. He would miss you as well.

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