#so far his relationships had only twice ended in him living out the years with his spouses

[yunhoszn]

to hell with it

pairing jung wooyoung x f!reader word count 5k genres angst﹒smut﹒teeniest bit of fluff here and there warnings 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, all lowercase bc she was supposed to be short and vibey and… that just did not happen, mentions and use of weed, very strict parents, lowkey fuckboy wooyoung lol, lots of kissing, marking, scratching, wooyoung has a fascination with reader’s tits lol, nipple play, no real foreplay, unprotected sex, cowgirl and missionary style, dacryphilia, exhibitionism kinda, quite a few references to religious-ish themes, unrequited love in a sense? i got carried away im so sorry

summary you could draw several heaven-hell parallels from this moment in time, from the way wooyoung buries himself inside of you, and you always return to the idea that he’s straight from hell.

more ok… like i said… i got carried away oopsie 😝 this was a request from my lovely wife of 20+ years @juyofans <3 i’m sorry if i strayed too far from the original idea,,, it just happened ok 🙇 also a huge thank u to @bro-atz for betaing for me i LOVE U SO MUCH!! that’s all lets keep this note short and sweet :P reblog if u enjoyed!

@atzhouse

“shit.”

the curse slips from your mouth so naturally upon the discovery that your stash is completely finished. you rummage through the drawer one more time in case you might’ve missed something, but alas, you’ve run into the worst possible scenario. no more weed.

it’s not like you were dependent on it. but it was the end of a long week and it happened to be one of those days. an edible, a long rip from your bong, or a hit from a blunt wrapped with your pretty pink rolling paper sounded like fucking heaven right about now. 

you still lived at home, though, and your parents had no clue that you dabbled with marijuana, so you had to keep everything hidden in your room. unfortunately, it was just too expensive to get your own place in this day and age. and despite the fear of getting caught deeply instilled in you, you were extremely desperate. 

and well, desperate times called for desperate measures…

“hey, wooyoung…” you speak into the receiver. 

your relationship with the guy was complicated. it had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with you. he’d been your plug for a couple years now, and his pretty face made it really hard not to develop a crush. every time you bought from him, you always tried to get a lot at once so you could space out how often you saw him to make things easier on your heart. 

the two of you went to high school together, and the first time you reached out in regards to your secret habit was awkward. to say the least. all of your friends had purchased something from him at least once or twice, so they assured you that he was the real deal. but you had only ever mooched off of them and didn’t have the faintest idea what you were supposed to say or do. (what with having dictators for parents and the lot.)

you remember sending him a dm in the most cryptic way possible. he laughed it off, thinking about how cute it was that you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into. but, like every other occasion in which you’d spoken to him, he had a girlfriend at the time. the first time it was haeun, then there was jisu, and it was kind of hard to keep up with the names after that. his patience was endearing, though, and it always left you wanting more out of your conversations. (which is, understandably, what attracted you to the guy.)

he was definitely not a one-partner, commitment type of guy, and that’s all you could ever want out of someone. you thought keeping distance to halt any feelings from growing was the smartest decision. if you didn’t get close to him, it would help squash whatever flame burned beneath your chest. 

but now it was time for that little crush to unearth itself, as it does whenever you see him.  

“hey, y/n, what’s up?” you can hear the smile in his voice, the one that has your insides melting and your panties nearly dropping to the floor in an instant. it’s almost cocky, like he was expecting your call. and he probably was, all things considered.

“um…“ you stop yourself, squeezing your eyes shut and biting your lip, tilting your head back. “are you free to do a drop right now?”

the digital clock on your nightstand read 9:28 PM and your parents wouldn’t be home for another hour or so, having left for the movies a little over an hour ago. (that was the only reason why you were even thinking of pulling something as idiotic as this.) 

not even were you just not allowed to have boys over. you weren’t allowed to have people over period, at least not if your parents were out. in spite of being a grown adult, they still managed to enforce strict rules and curfews on you. you were breaking so many by making this fucking phone call. 

Do Not Think About Talking To Boys Under Our Roof. 

“yeah, actually. i have to do another in the area so that works out perfectly. i can be there in ten.” he answers and that stupid smile pops into your head again. 

Absolutely No Strangers Allowed In The House Without Us Present. 

“okay cool— wait, you remember my address?” your brow scrunch together, the confusion boiling up inside of you. he snorts, some shifting audible in the background. 

No Alcohol Unless We Are Present, Absolutely No Drugs Allowed. 

“yeah? why wouldn’t i?” he asks so nonchalantly, you almost miss it. “i’ll be there soon, babe.”

he ends the call before you can even say anything, still holding your phone to your ear. your jaw hangs open and heat begins to bloom behind your cheeks. this was exactly why you were avoiding him as long as possible. jung wooyoung was a natural flirt, and you were very delusional. 

this was fine, right? all you had to do was exchange the goods and money, then send him on his way. it would be like nothing ever happened, like no one was ever here. your parents would be none the wiser and you could finally relax. it would be just like when you were sneaking around in high school, having him drop when you didn’t have a car—

fuck.

you could’ve just met him somewhere instead, huh? you didn’t have the issue of being car-less anymore. you could’ve told your parents you were running out to grab some things from the store and hid it in your bags in case they were home before you. could’ve done literally anything else except act this irrational. 

This Is An Honest and Trustworthy Household — No Lying Will Be Tolerated. 

maybe, subconsciously, you’ve been wanting to see him in this setting again. there was a thrill in breaking your parents rules. you supposed something special, something exciting sparked under your skin all those times you snuck into the backyard to meet with wooyoung through the side gate. but right now, you’re pacing inside your bedroom. this wasn’t the time to get poetic and reminisce about being a schoolgirl with a crush. 

you were bulldozing through just about everything on your parents’ list of Do Nots and you feel like you should be more anxious about it. for some reason you’re less afraid of pissing them off. you’re entirely too concerned with looking good for wooyoung, and you don’t even hear the shrill sound of your phone ringing.

wooyoung’s contact lights up the screen, sending all sorts of panic signals to your brain. you severely underestimated how long ten minutes was, and also how long you’d been standing in front of the mirror gawking at yourself like a damn fish out of water. this was embarrassing. you were better than this, god, you were so much better than to lose yourself like this over a man. but jung wooyoung somehow made all rhyme and reason escape you like he was some sexy version of the pied piper.

before you realize it, your feet have carried you down the stairs and to the front door. on the other side stand wooyoung, his backpack slung over his shoulder. he’s dressed in a red zip up hoodies and some baggy jeans. his hair is longer than when you last saw him, long enough to have some of the strands tucked loosely behind his ears. you think you’re entranced by his visuals alone, and then he opens his mouth.

”told ya i remembered.” his words drip with that charisma that sucks you in further, deeper, into the chasm you kept trying to avoid.

”uh— c-come in,” you usher him into your house and up the stairs into your room, just in case. “my parents aren’t home, but i don’t know if my neighbors are watching or something. and just in case they get back earlier, it’s easier to hide you in here than anywhere else.”

wooyoung nods with a snort, eyes wandering around the bedroom you’ve had since you were two years old. he’s never been inside of your house before, much less inside of your room. it’s very you; various posters littering the walls, makeup and skincare products cluttered around your vanity, comfy-looking sheets.

Definitely No Boys Allowed In Your Room.

“you know, y/n, i was pleasantly surprised when you called,” he shrugs off his bag, setting it on the foot of your bed, dragging his finger along the footboard. “i was starting to miss my favorite customer.”

just about everything but standing right here sounded ideal to you. if there were miraculously a sniper stationed on the roof of the house next to yours, you hoped you were in his line of sight and he would take you out. it was as if he knew. he knew exactly what his effect on you was, and that was absolutely perfect, now wasn’t it?

“your— huh?” you’re sure you sound stupid, especially so when he laughs, unzipping his backpack to take out what he was here for. the smell alone practically recalibrates your system and reboots you. wooyoung notices.

”we’ve never smoked together, have we?” he asks, pulling out the tube he was looking for. it’s about an eighth, which is less than what you usually buy from him, but you’re in no position to complain. you shake your head ‘no’ as he hands it to you, before pulling out another and doing the same thing. you raise an eyebrow at him.

”this is—“

”no, i know,” he purses his lips with a nod, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth and swiping across the bottom one. “consider it a gift, for being so loyal to me all these years.”

you guffaw in disbelief. what the fuck?

”wooyoung, you can’t possibly—“

”just let me smoke you out this once. that’s all i ask in return,” he seats himself on the edge of your bed. “and we’ll even use my stuff. you can save yours for later. i’ll make it worth your while.”

you would be cutting it really close to the time your parents were supposed to be home. but he was so tempting. and you were so weak. so, so pitifully weak.

”okay…” you let yourself say. you let yourself divulge just this once. “but, remember—“

”yes yes, your parents. do you think this is my first rodeo?” he laughs, pulling out a little plastic baggie that appears to have pre-ground weed in it. almost like… he was anticipating this? when he reaches into his backpack for what you assume is wraps, you jump to grab your pink rolling paper. you’d been so excited to use it, you weren’t going to let this opportunity go to waste.

batting your lashes at him is the only way you know how to convince him, though it doesn’t really take much convincing. your rolling skills still weren’t the best, despite doing this as long as you have, so you watch in awe as wooyoung does it. his fingers move expertly, and you have to blink away the thoughts threatening to overthrow the sane ones that have been struggling to keep afloat.

wooyoung fishes for the lighter in his pocket, red like the color of his jacket. he lights the blunt and holds it carefully between his fingers. you think he’s going to take the first hit, but then he’s holding it to your lips, gesturing for you to do it. “ladies first.” he throws in with that obnoxiously attractive laugh of his. you hesitantly follow his lead, sitting beside him, then inhaling and filling your chest. 

your exhale isn’t as graceful as you hoped it would be, a couple coughs coming out of you, but it was a strong hit. he rubs his free hand up and down your thigh to soothe you, hitting it himself. he’s definitely a lot more experienced than you, in what he does and how he does it, breathing it out into the atmosphere. your room is a little foggy now and you have half the mind to crack open a window, however, you’re hyper aware of his hand on your thigh. and you don’t want it to go away. 

If Any Of These Rules Are Broken, You Risk Being Kicked Out.

it’s calm for a few minutes, just the two of you rotating the blunt in comforting silence, his hand still branding its place on your thigh. and then his thumb starts to move. it circles into your bare skin gently, kneading mindlessly. you almost let out a whine, but you catch yourself, concealing it as a cough instead.

“you like me, don’t you, y/n?” wooyoung asks, puffing out a thick white cloud and pouting. “that’s why you buy a lot from me at once. that’s why i sometimes only see you once a month.”

the question catches you so off guard, you almost grab the pink blunt by the spark. he sets it in your ashtray, conveniently placed on one of your bedposts. you stare at him blankly, because how fucking perceptive do you have to be to figure that out? your crush was probably a little more than obvious, sure, but the avoidant tendency you had couldn’t possibly be linked to that. not unless he truly knew you like the back of his hand. 

he leans back onto his palms with a snicker, carding his fingers through his hair. the way he’s positioned allows you to glimpse at a bit more of his chest from the partially unzipped jacket. the only thing you see is that it’s bare, and your brain short circuits. it was already frying itself when he called you out, now there wasn’t a single functioning cell up there. 

“i’m high like sixty percent of the time, i see everything. i know everything.” he answers your unspoken inquiry. and well, that may be true, but it’s not like you’re doing much to refute with the way you’re ogling at him. (you were a horny high, unfortunately.) 

“what—“ you swallow, suddenly all too aware of how close you’re sitting, of how his grip on your thigh is a little more primal. “what if i said no? what then?”

“i’d think you were a liar,” he smiles, that fucking smile you can picture in your head even through a phone call. “and i don’t like being lied to.”

“so it’s a good thing i haven’t said no yet, right?” you breathe, voice entirely too stable for the situation. his hand rises higher on your thigh, the tip of his index finger brushing under your shorts. you glance down at it, eyes already heavy lidded as they observe the way it drags across your skin. fuck. 

“mhm,” he hums, gauging your reaction to his touch. “it’s very good.”

you’re losing your patience the longer you sit there, tortured by wooyoung’s hand searing on your thigh. your heart seems to beat faster and you feel like you can tell with the rise and fall of your chest picking up in speed. his lips on yours is all that you want, all that you need, and under this spell (the intoxication swimming through your bloodstream), you’re willing to accept the consequences that may come with it. 

a gasp escapes you when his nail scrapes along the side of your leg with the pressure of a feather. it’s overwhelming, to say the least. you want more and more and more, and then so much more until you can’t take it, but part of you is still insecure that he’ll leave you strung out on a clothesline if you indulge. you’re beyond thinking about the repercussions if you’re caught. you’re focused on the repercussions of being hurt if you give in. 

but enough is enough. 

placing your hand over his own, you slip it under your t-shirt where you’ve been braless this entire time. wooyoung’s eyes widen and you grab one of his hoodie strings, yanking him closer to you. your noses brush and your eyes meet, a silent ask for permission to finally play into what you’ve both been waiting for. 

you don’t really give him a second to rethink it.

your lips connect in a rough, messy kiss that has you believing in the existence of a god. one that’s granted what you’ve been dreaming of for years. maybe after this you’ll start praying before bed again, especially if it always rewards you this well. 

his mouth slots against yours like it’s the missing piece of a puzzle, your tongues tangling and your teeth nearly clashing. wooyoung’s hand on your chest regains its own control, squeezing your breast and flicking his thumb over a perked nipple. his other hand grips your waist, pulling you onto his lap. your knees dig into the mattress, hands cupping under his jaw and then entwining in his hair. 

you sigh into his kiss, obsessed with this length on him. you’re sure he feels the same when he groans after you tug on it, deepening the kiss if possible. the sigh turns into a moan when he guides your hips into a circular motion, grinding you down on him to create a bit of friction and get the ball rolling. 

he knows you don’t have a lot of time, maybe an hour tops, but fuck he wishes he could take his time with you. he wished he could explore your body and learn every single thing you liked and didn’t like, and use it all to his advantage. his senses are heightened so he’s keenly aware of your every sound, of each whine that escapes you. 

wooyoung’s mouth travels from your own, along your jaw, and down your throat, nipping and sucking so he leaves his mark on you wherever he can. your lips part with a soft moan when he finds the sensitive spot on your neck. his hand is still in your shirt, kneading and massaging your tits like it was second nature for him. 

your high has reached its peak, and you’re starting to get light headed from how good everything feels. if he didn’t touch you where you needed him most soon, you feared you might finish prematurely, and after all that you’ve been through to get to this point, you really cannot handle that tonight. thankfully, he seems to read your mind. 

“i would love to make up for lost time, but i don’t think we can right now,” he pants into your skin, hands everywhere but somehow nowhere all at once. “let me just—“

“stop yapping and just fuck me, wooyoung, you’re wasting precious time,” you groan, going straight for the zipper of his jacket. you push the red material off of his shoulders in one go, practically pawing at the button of his jeans. he laughs at your impatience, but knows you’re right. 

“well, when you put it like that, i don’t feel bad for the disgusting things i wanna do to you,” he teases, helping you pull your shirt over your head. “gonna fuck you so good, you’re gonna wanna see me more than once a month.”

the call out is crazy, but you don’t have the mental capacity to argue with him, head tossing back when he takes one of your tits into his mouth. you scrape your nails down the expanse of his chest and abdomen, a reprieve to the static buzzing throughout your body with wooyoung’s lips all over you. his teeth sink into your collarbone and you nearly lose your sanity. this was it, there was no going back now that you’ve fallen under his spell. 

his skilled fingers make quick work removing your shorts and you’re so beyond restless, that he has a bit of trouble getting them down your legs. he stills your hips firmly, practically scolding you when he says, “sit still, pretty, i’m not going anywhere.”

it’s a weird reaffirmation, and in a way it calms your erratic mind. you finally let go of those reservations and allow yourself to submit to these feelings you’ve harbored for years. the heat of wooyoung beneath you is enough to make you squirm again, needing him inside of you before you start crying. (though judging by what he’s said so far, you think he’d like that.)

“god, i need you so bad,” you whine, lips locking with his once more. you speak the words into his mouth and they hold all the subtlety of an excavator, desperation hanging off of each syllable. “please…”

you can feel, rather than see, the conniving smile that graces his features, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. he’s dangling your desire in front of you like a ball of yarn with a cat, the bed of his nails dragging along your hips slowly and tortuously. you reach down to cup his erection through his boxers and that’s what spurs him on, dropping his mischievous act in favor of gifting you what you’ve been asking for so nicely.

wooyoung pushes your underwear to the side, kicking off his boxers so he’s bare for you. part of you is way more excited than you should be to fuck him raw, for the first time nonetheless. he leans back slightly and watches as you hover over his cock, sitting on it gently. he’s definitely on the longer side, longer than the other guys you’ve been with— not that there were very many to compare him to. he fills you up just right, tapping that sweet crook of your pussy when he sheathes entirely. 

the moan that breaches the sound barrier fights itself from deep in your chest, tickling his ears and forcing out one of his own. his grip on your hips tightens as you begin to move. it’s more of him moving your body for you, not that you’re complaining at all. less work for you.

with each bounce on his cock, your bed squeaks and it wouldn’t be such a problem if you didn’t also hear the front door open downstairs. your eyes widen almost comically, meeting wooyoung’s with a fear so intense that it nearly scares him too. gratefully, he’s been in this situation before. he holds a finger up to his lips to shush you, simultaneously flipping the two of you so your back is flat on the bed and his feet are planted on the floor.

you’re glad you had the clear mind to lock your door when you came up to your room. you don’t know if it’s because it’s wooyoung, or maybe you’re just into it, but you feel yourself getting more turned on as he continues to fuck you despite your parents being home. he covers your mouth with his hand, rocking his hips into yours with a purpose. his free hand slithers between the two of you, thumb rubbing calculated circles into your clit.

”take it,” he rasps into your ear, nipping the lobe softly; a contrast to what’s tumbling out of his mouth. “take it like the good girl you are.”

at that same moment, there’s a knock on your bedroom door. wooyoung doesn’t stop, in fact, he speeds up his pace, pushing your thigh to your chest so he plunges deeper into your cunt. he’s evil, pure evil.

”y/n, are you in there?” your mother asks.

”y-yes,” you gasp, willing your voice to stay steady. “i was getting ready to go to s-sleep.”

“you sound off… are you feeling okay?” she expresses her concern and you look to wooyoung for help.

you bite down harshly on your lower lip when he leans down to suck on one of your tits instead, still very roughly snapping into you. he urges you to say something anyway, so you can at least get them to leave you alone. “y-yes! i’m fine! i was just looking f-for my pajamas!”

he laughs lowly so only you can hear, gazing at you through his lashes and whispering, “should we tell her they’re on your floor?”

your mother doesn’t question you any further. ”okay… goodnight, sweetheart.”

”goodnight!”

her footsteps get quieter as she walks away from your door. the shit-eating grin on wooyoung’s face contributes to the growing ache in the pit of your stomach more than it pisses you off. unfortunately he just had that effect on you. it was hard to be mad at him when he made you feel like you were lit ablaze, fire burning all the way to the tips of your fingers.

“look at you, sweetheart,” you hate that the pet name has you clenching around his length. his lips trail down your body, worshiping it like you were his own personal goddess. “you’re taking my cock so perfectly.”

if you could scream, you would. you’d be as loud as possible so your whole block knew who was fucking you this good. you’d chant his name like a prayer, which was ironic considering he was, in a sense, more like an incubus. you could draw several heaven-hell parallels from this moment in time, from the way wooyoung buries himself inside of you, and you always return to the idea that he’s straight from hell. the way he lures you in, like the serpent with eve in the garden of eden. he has you turning your back on all forms of reason. 

but this inebriation, this sweet poison coursing through your bloodstream as applies practiced pressure to your clit, has your whole being soaring. you could care less about the trouble that comes with it, especially when it has your back arching off of your mattress and into his chest. 

your lips pry open in a silent moan when he presses up against that same spongy nook in your pussy. tears well in your eyes as they roll back, spilling down the sides of your cheeks. wooyoung kisses them away and fucks into you harder, inching closer and closer towards what you’re already on the precipice of. 

having gone nonverbal after nearly getting caught, it requires so much energy for you to croak out, “‘m so close, woo, so so close…”

he hums approvingly, back at your mouth now. his lips mold with yours so smoothly and your fingers tangle in his hair so easily. you want this forever, to be his in more ways than one. but after tonight, you don’t know how likely that is to happen, and you’ll let yourself be satiated by this one time. 

you’re lost in the sensation of his kiss, disappearing in the feeling of his dick sliding in and out of your cunt without restriction. and maybe this would’ve been so different had you not been high. maybe this wouldn’t have happened at all had you been sober. your vision is hazy and your head is clouded, but you’ve never felt so liberated. 

wooyoung grazes his nose against yours, a stark contrast in the behavior he’s exhibited tonight. even as he does so, his lower half is still pounding into you without mercy. and for some reason, that tenderness is what has you slipping through the cracks. your orgasm washes over you with no warning, crashing and colliding into your being almost violently. 

the fluttering of your walls around his cock has wooyoung finishing right behind you, lashes skimming the tops of your cheeks in butterfly kisses that prolong the climax of your release. it’s much more intimate than you expected, your heart swelling and your body shivering with its implications. he slows his pace to something steady, something that just metaphorically holds your hand through your orgasm. 

as you recover from the weight of it all, you realize that you’re still crying. wooyoung attempts to swipe away your tears with his thumbs, but when he notices that they aren’t stopping, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. he slides out of you and back into his boxers, scouring your bedroom floor for your t-shirt. he sits you up gently and cups your jaw in his hand.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, uncharacteristically serious. you’re used to him being playful and joking about everything, so for him to show genuine concern about your emotions means a lot. a lot.

“i’m okay— i’m fine, i’m just being weird.” you dismiss his worries though, since it’s true. he doesn’t owe you anything and you don’t want to guilt him into anything just because your crush is a little heavier than the schoolgirl crush he’s made it out to be. he shakes his head. he’s not having any of that.

”no, you’re upset about something. don’t water yourself down like that.” you don’t like that this is fueling your delusions, don’t like that you want him so much more than you thought you could. and maybe you could’ve stopped yourself, had you not looked at him. your gaze traces from the beauty mark under his eye to the way his hair frames his face. 

“i want something i can’t have,” is what you settle on, swallowing down that bitter pill that you’ve been avoiding tonight. “and i think i’m finally coming to terms with it.”

wooyoung searches your expression for thicker substance, as if that will hint towards a clearer answer than what you’ve given him. he finds it in that painfully sad smile of yours. he finds it in the heartache swirling in the pools of your irises. you know he didn’t mean to lead you on. it’s not his fault, really. you understood what you were getting yourself into. none of the blame can be placed in his hold, because it doesn’t belong to him.

”i should go,” he says after a long stretch of silence. “before either of us get into any trouble.”

you watch as he dresses himself quickly and exits through the window, taking your heart along with him. but it would be okay. you wouldn’t have to see him for another month anyways. 

at least, that’s what you tell yourself as you reignite the blunt sitting in your ashtray.

© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

#atzhouse #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez wooyoung #ateez jung wooyoung #jung wooyoung #jung wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung smut #yunhoszn

[meowww-ffxiv]

I make a single OC who's 100+ years old and I'm already oooo oooooo we can fit so much shit into this guy.

I think vieras who lived among other races and who outlived many of them would develop a kind of strange in-between of being a tired old person and being...well, their age, in viera years. And then if they had partners who passed before them...

Cooking, cooking.

#chattery #as this relates to maedwyn: hes over the heartbreak within the first 3 decades #now he just has relationships with the full expectation theyre gonna go to hell in a handbasket at some point n it became #a self fulfilling prophecy loool #so far his relationships had only twice ended in him living out the years with his spouses #the rest are like. arsenic. betrayal. getting sold to garleans. watching your lover get publicly executed in dalmasca. #killing your lover in self-defense. yourself pulling strings to kill your lover because you found out they were a specific sort of awful #watching youngsters you mentored turn on you. watching them split off and go die young for a cause. lament. knowing you can do nothing #why do you risk your life. this question maedwyn had asked a hundred times to many hundred people #their answers are all different but the conviction and courage and faith they had were colors in the same kaleidoscope #so he is still here. he still recruits and guides and mentors and helps #meteion journeyed across the stars and found only the wish for death #maedwyn mired himself in two hundred years of mortality and found hearts bright as nova explosions in the mud all around him #it's why he is mordred's friend. drawn helplessly to that flame knowing it will one day soon burn out #but how brightly it burns in the meantime. how dearly and fearlessly mordred & those like him lived and lived and lived

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | angus tully x reader

sequel to 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲, won't really make much sense without reading that!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | holiday break can only last so long, but angus wants this to be more than a fling-- and you, as much as you want to deny it, already know it's more than a fling. the question remains if either one of you will admit it.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 5.3k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ only!!), age gap (not huge but angus is 18 and the reader is just out of college), semi-public sex, breeding kink, very inappropriate activities in a church, secret relationship, a wee bit of angst and fluff at the end!

part 3 coming soon!

“Fuck, I don’t wanna go back,” he groaned, dropping his head defeatedly into the crook of your neck.  “I never wanna go back to that horrible fucking school.”

“I guess you’ll just see me at Easter break then, huh?” you purred, grazing your teeth over his ear.

“You know, if sex with you keeps lining up with the Catholic calendar, it’s gonna give me a complex or something,” he noticed.

“Oh, I can do better than that,” you beamed.  “Next time you see me at Mass, I won’t be wearing any panties.  And you’ll be the only other one who knows.”

He perked up again, balancing himself over you with bent arms against the mattress.  “I swear, you’re a dream come true.  A really fucked up dream I had after seeing a porno mag or something.”

You laughed, but it was cut off with him pulling you into another kiss— sweet and slow, with both of you smiling against each other.  With your limbs tangled together under the sheets, you melted together into your bed; and no, none of it really seemed real yet.  Every time this happened, you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that you were hooking up with Angus Tully.  Frankly, you were sort of trying not to think about it, at least not too much.  If you really tried, you could look at his face and see the little kid you babysat all those years ago, and it just made you feel sort of awful about it… yet you couldn’t bring yourself to stop.

Your smile fell into a gasp when he started to kiss your neck, his hands guiding your back as it arched slightly.  When he pressed his body against yours, you felt him getting hard against your leg, and you groaned softly.

“Fuck, Angus, again?” you whined.  “We already went twice—”

“I’m leaving in two days,” he explained, “I need you as many times as I can get away with it.”

You wanted to protest, say something about how sore you were or about how he needed to leave and go back home before someone noticed he was gone— but his slender fingers were already diving between your legs and making you just moan instead.

“See?  You’re wet already,” he noticed with a playful mockery to his tone.  “I’ve gotta take care of you, baby…”

Oh, you couldn’t stand it when he talked like that— when he made you feel so vulnerable to him, so paradoxically submissive.  When this started a couple weeks back, it was the other way around: you were the cool, older woman with all the power.  You told him what you wanted and he was more than happy to oblige, never questioning you— he was obedient, basically.  But once you’d had a few more encounters, he realized that you wanted him just as badly… that he could make you desperate, if he wanted.  Once he’d had the smallest taste of control, he was suddenly a changed man; now, he loved to tease and taunt you, see how far he could push you, even once he made you beg— and you expected you’d never get to live that down. 

He watched your face with a mischievous smile as he slowly slid two fingers into you, watching the way you winced and then relaxed.  “I’ll be careful,” he promised, “I know you’re all sensitive still… thought you might wake up the whole house with that last one.”

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks flushed, remembering how he’d had to cover your mouth with his hand when he made you come.  These were issues you hadn’t considered much before, since you spent most of the year living in a dorm where you didn’t really care if anyone heard what you were up to.  Staying in your parents’ house again— and secretly fucking their friends’ son in your childhood bedroom— posed new challenges to say the least.

You gasped when his fingers curled inside you, rubbing that spot that made everything clench for a moment.  “Mm,” he observed encouragingly, “like that?”

“Yes,” you hissed under your breath.  Just when you began to let your eyes fall shut, they shot open when he added a third finger inside you.  “Fuck!” 

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” he scolded, “you can fit three fingers just fine— my cock’s bigger than all that anyways.”

He twisted the fingers inside you as your hips rocked, shivers running over your skin.  “Yeah, but still— fuck, it’s a lot…”

“You take it just fine,” he assured.  “You take whatever I give you, huh?”

“Sh-shut up,” you whimpered, and he laughed softly.

“You’re so good for me,” he continued anyways, making you bite your lip in hopes he wouldn’t notice his effect on you.  Whenever he said stuff like that, you just wanted to ask him who the fuck he thought he was— it made you want to shove him off of you and pin him down, remind him of his place.  But you never did, because letting him take control always felt so damn good…

His head dipped down a bit under the covers— and his lips latched onto one of your nipples, making you gasp and grab his hair with one of your hands.  “Oh god— yes,” you praised, shuddering a bit as he suckled hard on the bud.

He moaned around it, his free hand holding the other breast and keeping you down even when your back longed to arch deeper.  “You get so wet when I do this,” he noticed as he pulled away briefly, moving to suck the other for a moment as his fingers gently pumped into you.  When he pushed them in all the way to the knuckle, at the same time that his tongue swirled around your nipple just right, your patience finally gave in.

“Just fuck me,” you begged, tugging harder on his curls as you felt him smile against your skin.  “God, I just— fuck—”

He pulled away from your breast with a pop and a grin.  “Just ask nicely, baby, and I’m all yours.”

“I know you want to, just fuck me,” you growled, but he shook his head and you clenched your jaw.

“You can say it,” he encouraged, “just use the magic word.”

You rolled your eyes, hating the juvenile way of describing it, but his fingers were still moving inside you and you just needed it too bad— “Please,” you breathed.  “Please fuck me.”

“There you go,” he praised, slowly pulling his drenched fingers out of you and moving his hips to line up with yours instead.  He was so hard; you were almost impressed with his resolve, though at the moment you were mostly just annoyed with it.  “Look up at me,” he demanded, making you meet his gaze before he pushed himself inside you.

It was almost too intense, looking right into his eyes as he thrust into you carefully— you bit your lip, watching the heavy sigh of relief leave him as he filled you.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his eyes scanning all over your face and watching your expression change as he pressed his cock as deep as possible.  “You’re fucking perfect.”

You didn’t really believe that, but you at least would concede that this moment was perfect.

You held tighter onto him, legs wrapping around his hips, as he leaned in closer and moaned against your neck.  “How am I supposed to leave when you feel this fucking good?” he groaned lowly, and you felt yourself already beginning to pulse inside as you moved closer to the edge.  “I feel good too, right?”

Poor thing— if only he knew that it was his own fault you withheld praise, just because he sounded too precious when he asked you for reassurance like that.  He was really fucking talkative, way more than you expected; sometimes you thought if you didn’t say anything, he’d just go off on these wild tangents about how bad he needs you.  “You feel good,” you replied, trying to keep it a little vague so he’d ask for more.

“How good?” he asked with a grin, and you smiled, too, because he was wonderfully predictable sometimes.

“So good,” you cooed, “so fucking good that I’m gonna come way too fast.”

“Hey, that’s my thing,” he joked.  His stamina had definitely increased a lot in just a few encounters, but he still had a habit of coming quickly if you got him a bit too riled up.  Not that you really minded… it was still cute, after all, and he usually made it up to you one way or another.

He picked up his pace, letting out a low moan against your ear.  “Tell me you want me to come inside you,” he ordered, panting with each quick thrust.

“Fuck, Angus, I want you come,” you replied, whispering against his ear.  “I want you to fill me—”

“Fuck…”

“And put all your come so deep in me—”

“Fuck, baby,” he whined again.  “I’m so fucking close.”

You whined, running your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, feeling your chest get tighter as you moved closer to the edge.

“Tell me you want me to breed you,” he added; okay, so much for predictable…

“Wh-what?” you choked, feeling suddenly hot all over.  “Angus, I—”

“I know, you won’t,” he soothed, “it’s just, you know, pretend… just say you want it, please.”

You swallowed but nodded, holding on tighter to the back of his neck.  “I… I want you to get me pregnant.”

“God, yes,” he whined through his teeth, fucking you faster.

“I-I want you to fill me up so I can have a baby,” you continued in a whisper, and he moaned again as his grip on your hips tightened.  You could hardly believe what you were saying, nor that he had asked you to say it, and yet it made the most wonderfully bizarre feeling stir inside you— strangest of all, it was turning you on.  “F-fuck, Angus, I’m gonna come.”

“You’re gonna come with me?” he pressed, sighing when you nodded.  “Fuck, let’s do it— we’ll come together.  That’ll definitely get you pregnant.”

“Jesus, Angus,” you hissed, “what are you talking about?”

“It doesn’t get you hot, thinking about it?” he challenged.  “Thinking about us making a baby right now?  Imagining how good it would feel to let me breed you and make you a mommy?”

“Sh-shut the fuck up,” you grunted, but you were already trying to hold it back.

“God, you want it so bad,” he noticed— how was he only this perceptive in these sorts of situations?  “You want me to come in you and knock you up, I can tell.  You’re gonna come just thinking about it.”

Even though it wasn’t really just thinking about it— it was him fucking you deep and fast and hard after a whole night of making love— you were forced to bite your lip and nod.

“C’mon, baby, I wanna feel it again,” he purred.  “Feels so fucking perfect when you come around me— you’re mine, aren’t you?”

Your heart jumped and your eyes shut tight.  “God,” you groaned in frustration, but he just smiled and held you tighter.

“It’s okay,” he cooed, “nobody has to know, it’s just me— you’re mine, right?  Say it.  Say you’re mine.”

You whined when it hit you— and nothing had ever hit you quite like that.  Tensing up inside, pulsing uncontrollably, you felt the weight on your chest lift and you dug your nails into his shoulders as he fucked you through it.  “Fuck!  I-I’m yours!” you blurted out, unable to stop it when you were drowning in your ecstasy like that.

He swore against your ear, and gave you hardly one more thrust before falling over the edge himself, groaning weakly as his body sank down onto yours.

You hoped against all odds that he wouldn’t force you to address any of what you’d just said; he looked so exhausted that you almost wanted to let him fall asleep here if it meant avoiding that conversation.  But it was just like him to only give you about ten seconds of silence before running his mouth again.

He started by just sitting up enough to kiss you on the cheek, then the lips, then the side of your forehead when you turned away.  “That was so hot,” he announced, still catching his breath, as he grinned down at you.

“That was… different,” you admitted as you hoped your embarrassment wouldn’t show on your face.  “You weren’t serious, right?  I mean, you know I’m on the pill—”

“Yeah, of course,” he assured, “it’s just, I don’t know, a fantasy.”

You raised an eyebrow as you looked at him.  “Respectfully, I thought it was more of a nightmare— you know, it’s kinda worst-case-scenario here.”

“No, no, I know— that’s why it’s fun,” he explained.  “‘Cause it’s, like, bad.  Well, not bad, but… scary.  In a good way!  Like a rollercoaster or something.”

“Yeah, sure,” you scoffed, “just like a rollercoaster.  That’s why the maternity ward at the hospital looks so much like Six Flags.”

“You know what I mean,” he laughed.  “It’s just… if it actually happened it would be a huge fucking deal… but just imagining it, just for fun I mean, it makes my heart race.  See?”

He picked up one of your hands and put it on his neck, pressing your fingers into his pulse so you could feel its rapidness.  “Fair enough,” you shrugged, “you sure scared the crap out of me for a second.”

“You liked it,” he cooed, kissing the tip of your nose.  “You like being mine, too.”

Even if you could’ve hid the reaction on your face somehow, the way your weak muscles still found the energy to clench around his softening cock gave you away; he purred as he smiled, kissing you more tenderly on the lips this time.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered to you.

“I probably look like a mess,” you laughed quietly, “I don’t even want to know what my hair looks like after a night like this.”

“Yeah, that’s how I like you, though— you look pretty all fucked up,” he explained.

You glanced over as he moved to bury his face in your neck again, only to see the slightest blue glow in the window: the early light just before dawn.  “Angus, it’s almost morning,” you noticed.  “You need to go.”

“Not yet,” he begged, hugging you tighter.  “I bet I can make you come again—”

“No,” you snapped, “if your parents find out you snuck out— and if anyone knows you came here—”

“Baby, c’mon,” he pouted, “I’ll be quick, nobody’s gonna know—”

“I swear to god, Angus—”

“Fine, fine,” he sighed, “then just kiss me before I go.”

He held your cheek and turned your face to his, and you kissed him; you hated these kisses, the ones that felt like goodbye.  They were amazing, of course, but they always broke your heart.

“I’ll see you later?” he assumed.

“You’ll see me on Sunday,” you replied.

“Nooo, I can’t wait that long,” he whined.

“Yes you can,” you breathed.  “Now get up, please, before I have to literally kick you out.”

“Fine,” he relented, climbing off of you and searching the floor for his boxers and t-shirt.

“I still can’t believe you ran here without even putting a coat on,” you remembered, “it’s below freezing out.”

“Whatever, it’s not even a block to my house,” he rolled his eyes.

“Mr. Lindy across the street takes out the trash insanely early in the morning— what if he sees you running back to your house in the snow without any fucking clothes on?!” 

“He was young once, right?  He’ll understand,” Angus laughed.

“I’m hoping he doesn’t understand,” you groaned, “‘cause if he figures it out and tells my parents—”

“I know,” he breathed, slipping on his shoes and leaning over the bed to kiss you quickly.  “It’ll be fine, okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled back.

There was a brief pause before Angus dropped his arms down against his sides, hitting his legs; “Well, I… guess I’ll see you at Mass,” he announced.

“That’s gotta be the weirdest thing to say after hooking up with somebody,” you decided.

“I couldn’t think of anything else!” he defended.  “I’m about to jump out your window, it’s already a pretty weird transition.”

“Okay, first of all, please don’t jump,” you replied, “but fair enough.  I’ll see you at Mass.”

He hesitated, suddenly giving you one more kiss— one that lingered a little more— before opening your window and beginning to climb out.

~

Mass was certainly a lot more interesting when you kept feeling Angus’ eyes on you.  His family had been just barely on time for the service, so you hadn’t been able to talk to him before it started; you could tell he was dying to know if you’d gone through with it.

You tugged on the bottom of your dress as you adjusted yourself in the pew; it was definitely a weird feeling, and you couldn’t stop worrying that someone, somehow, would see up your skirt and get an eyeful.  The anxiety of it was oddly arousing, though— it made you understand a bit better what Angus had said about the whole scary in a good way thing.

When you occasionally spared a glance at him, you noticed that Angus still looked a little underslept; you’d both been up all night just a couple days ago, but the difference was that your parents didn’t really mind if you spent most of the next day in your room, so you’d had a chance to catch up— Angus’ parents were more determined to make use of his time off from school, and had him doing all kinds of chores and activities on Saturday that prevented him from getting more than a quick nap here and there.

And they’d tugged him out of bed bright and early for church today, so he was probably still feeling the effects of an all-nighter.  That said, he certainly didn’t seem lacking in energy at the moment— he kept wringing his hands, constantly glancing at you, so noticeably that his mom lightly smacked him on the shoulder when she noticed it.

But you were looking across the aisle at him, too.  If for no other reason than how cute he looked in his shirt and tie.

After the service, as everyone mingled around coffee and donuts, Angus made a beeline towards you— you’d kind of hoped he would be a little more subtle.

“Hey,” he greeted, and you just nodded at him with a smirk.  “It’s been too long.”

He glanced at all the people passing by, stepping closer to you to let someone walk past but never moving back; he waited until no one was too close before he spoke again in a lower voice.

“Are you really not wearing any…?” he asked, an extra sparkle in his eye and a mischievous smile on his face.  His smile dropped a bit when you nodded, though, and his eyes raked over you in the most intoxicating, lascivious way.  You were sure you’d never had someone look at you like that, like they’d give anything to devour you right then— and with no panties to hold it, you felt your arousal slicken where your thighs rubbed together.

He cleared his throat and glanced over his shoulder, making sure no one was looking over at him as he adjusted his corduroys awkwardly; you licked your lips, a little too flattered by the effect you had on him.

“That’s, um, that’s…” he mumbled, tripping over his words.  “That’s really… yeah.”

“Really what?” you challenged as you bit your lip briefly, moving closer to him and all but batting your eyes up at him.

“It’s really fucking sexy,” he whispered.

“Yeah?” you cooed.  “I think it’s sexy that you think it’s sexy.”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about—” he began.

“I know,” you sighed, “me too.”

“I wasn’t even tired that day— I was wired, actually,” he laughed quietly.  “I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Your heart’s pace picked up a bit, and you glanced away briefly.  “I, um… I thought about you, too.

“There’s gotta be somewhere we can go,” he whispered.  “It’s a big place— everyone’s here, if we just… found an empty room—”

“Jesus, Angus— in a church?!” you hissed.

“Come on,” he begged, “I don’t know when we’ll get a chance again— and I’m leaving tomorrow— and I want you so bad—”

“Shh,” you warned him, making sure no one was nearby again.  “We’ll figure something out— just not here.  It’s too risky.”

“But I need you now,” he insisted, voice lower and darker as he stepped just a bit closer to you.  “It won’t take us long— I mean, it definitely won’t take me long, after spending the last two days thinking about you.”

You crossed your arms, looking down at the floor, and you felt him lean in over you.  “Please, baby?” he whispered under his breath.

Releting, you took a glance at the crowd and made sure nobody was looking in your direction.  “You go find an empty room in the east wing.  I’ll talk to a few people— so it doesn’t look like we’re going together— and I’ll come find you in a few minutes, okay?”

“Great,” he beamed.  “Uh, which way is east again?”

You pointed him in the right direction and watched him bound away, sighing to yourself as you re-entered the crowd.  You got a lot of questions about your plan now that you finished your degree— and you found yourself repeating the same stock answer about how your graduate program didn’t start until the fall so you had the spring and summer to stay home.  Even though you knew you needed to kill some time to look less suspicious, you found yourself glancing constantly towards the east wing, getting more and more impatient for your chance to slip away as unnoticed as possible.

As the crowd was clearing out and nearly everyone’s attention was turned onto somebody’s new baby, you took the opportunity to disappear into the dark hallway.  As you peered around the doors, you saw Angus peeking out at you through one of the little windows; the door opened, and you slipped into an abandoned Sunday school classroom, barely having time to gingerly shut the door behind you before you felt his lips on your neck and his hand sliding up your thigh.

“That took forever,” he complained, and before you could remind him it had hardly been five minutes, his fingers were exploring between your legs.  “Fuck, what’re you so wet for?” he teased, and you groaned as you pulled him closer by his pants and hopped up to sit on the low bookshelf nearby.

“Just hurry up,” you hissed, “we need to get this over with before somebody finds us here.”

He opened his fly quickly, but struggled slightly to free himself from the confines of his trousers; you hummed a bit when he got it out, pressing it against you right away as you moved your hips up.

Thrusting into you all at once, you both sighed slowly; you took hold of his shoulders, he grabbed onto your hips, and instantly he began to fuck into you impatiently.

“God, you’re so tight,” he hissed against your ear.  “Touch yourself— I want you to come, too.”

You reached between your bodies to put a few fingers on your clit, rubbing fast in hopes that you could catch up with him.

“Do you always do what you’re told?” he mocked playfully.

“I think the fact that we’re doing this right after church proves that I don’t,” you replied.

“Guess you only do what I tell you to,” he shrugged, which really made you want to talk back, but you couldn’t because you were trying not to moan too loudly.

He moved faster inside you, and something about the angle of sitting up on the shelf was making him hit just the right spot— or maybe you were sensitive from the exhilarating fear of getting caught.

“What if I got you pregnant here?” he purred, making you arch your back slightly.  “Wouldn’t that be funny?”

“You’ve got a weird sense of humor, Tully,” you breathed, struggling not to let your voice come out all whiny and weak.

“Knocked up at St. Mary’s… it’s what God would want, right?”

“Do you never shut up?” you hissed.

“No,” he smirked, “you’re cute when you’re ticked off at me.”

His eyes met yours, and you felt a strange emotion stir in your chest: you bit your lip, willing yourself to tear away from his gaze, but you found it impossible somehow.

One of his hands moved from your hip up to your chest, palming at you through your dress.  You tensed up inside, making him wince a bit, and you couldn’t believe how close you were already.

“Oh god, baby, m’gonna come,” you whimpered, moving your hand even faster over your clit; he groaned in approval, leaning in to kiss all along your neck.

“Come for me,” he pleaded, “I’m so fucking close— please come, fuck—”

“R-right there,” you gasped, gripping his shoulder tighter— actually, that wasn’t the only place you were gripping him tighter.  He was struggling to maintain the pace of his thrusts, in fact, with how hard your walls were bearing down on him.  “Yes, yes, yes—”

“Not too loud,” he warned you, and you bit hard on your own lip to suppress your moan: it stayed in your throat instead, and you heard him gasp as he heard and felt you reaching your peak.  He had to take his hand off your chest and put it on the bookshelf under you to help keep you upright, and he looked down between your bodies to watch himself give you a few final thrusts.

He stopped suddenly, whimpering slightly as he buried himself in you as deep as he could go; you sighed and laid back on the bookshelf again, having to tilt your head to avoid a figurine of some prophet or saint that you had absolutely no interest in identifying at the moment.

Angus took a moment to catch his breath, before looking back over his shoulder and through the door’s window to make sure no one was in the hallway.  He pulled his cock out of you carefully and did his best to fit it back into his pants.  As you felt a warm oozing feeling between your legs, your face began to heat up.

“Maybe I didn’t think this through,” you realized.

“What?” he mumbled.

“I’m gonna have to go out there with nothing on under my dress, with your come leaking out of me.”

He bit his lip.

“It’s not sexy, Angus!  It’s very inconvenient!” you frowned.

“It’s both,” he insisted.  “It’s very much both.”

~

Though you did get another chance to see Angus before he left, it wasn’t that sort of rendezvous, unfortunately.  Although, just sitting and talking with him was wonderful, too— in an entirely different way.  See, that was the thing that scared you most, even more than how badly you’d come to crave his touch: how happy you felt just being with him.

He was funny, and weird, and seemed to think your stories from college were fascinating; he was well-read, especially for a high school student, and you two could chat about your favorite books— a hobby most of your classmates in college found too nerdy to sympathize with.  

It probably looked totally wholesome from the outside: two childhood friends catching up while they were back home for a while.  And you, you probably looked normal and cool on the outside— you were trying to, at least.  But inside, you were terrified.  You wanted it to be like what Angus said— scary, in a good way, like a rollercoaster— but you were starting to just feel sick.  You know, like an actual rollercoaster would…

“Everyone there is so… dumb,” Angus decided as he leaned back, looking up at the ceiling.

“That can’t be true, it’s a good school,” you tried to encourage him.

“I mean, maybe they could be smart, but they act like morons,” he clarified.  “They hate me, too, and I don’t even really know why.”

“Probably because they can sense that you think they’re all morons,” you suggested; and he looked over at you, as if he’d genuinely never thought of that before.

But instead of addressing that, he sat up again and changed the subject.  “My parents probably want me to go back and, like, put my trunk in the car and stuff…”

“Right,” you nodded, “you should go.”

“Yeah— b-but, listen, um, before I do…” he trailed off, leaning a little closer to you on the couch.  “I wanted to, you know, talk.  About something.”

“We’ve been talking for half an hour,” you noticed.

“Right, uh— I meant something specific,” he explained, his cheeks seeming to get a little bit more pink.  “I… I won’t be back until spring break, you know…”

“Uh huh,” you nodded, raising an eyebrow as you wondered what he was getting at.

“And, you know, we’ve been having such a great time,” he went on, and your heart twisted.  You’d heard this spiel before: the things are so good now, why do we need to put a label on it? why can’t we just have fun talk.  The you’re great, but not good enough for more than this talk.  You decided to jump in and spare him before he said anything too… honest.

“I get it,” you promised, and he looked at you nervously.  “We’re gonna be too far apart for too long— and you shouldn’t, you know, feel like you’re tied down to anything.  It’s okay— I didn’t think I was, like, your girlfriend or anything.”

“R-right,” he coughed, looking away and putting his hand on the back of his neck.  “Yeah, that’s— that’s what I was gonna say.  I knew you’d understand.”

You smiled, wishing you weren’t always so goddamn understanding.  “But it was fun— a good way to kill time over the break, for sure.”

“Yeah,” he agreed alongside a thin laugh.  “I… I think I’ll always owe you, for being my first time and all.”

“Well, you’ve certainly spent your first two weeks of not being a virgin pretty well,” you snorted.  “I had a good time.  We’ll call it even.”

“And… when I come back?” he pressed.  “Maybe we can, I dunno… maybe we can do it again.”

You grinned and tilted your head.  “Yeah, I like that idea.”

“But can I still call you?” he asked nervously.

“Of course!” you beamed.  “You’ll have to tell me if you get any good books assigned this semester.”

“Yeah, I doubt it,” he scoffed, but his smile lifted just a bit.

“I can come see you off, if you want,” you offered, “but it might make your mom suspect something…”

“You’re probably right,” he admitted, “I wish you weren’t, but you are— but I’ll call first thing when I get there!”

You smiled, and he gave you a hug before he left; and he promised to call again, though you’d believed him the first time.  And the next time you stayed up all night with Angus, it was on the phone— he snuck out of bed with a bag of quarters, and told you the phone was free so you wouldn’t feel bad, and talked to you about everything he could possibly think of.

Except, you didn’t quite make it all night: you fell asleep at some point, while he was talking about his English paper… not that he could blame you.

And for some reason, one that even he himself couldn’t quite explain, he kept feeding the phone quarters and listening to you sleep; he didn’t hang up until it was nearly morning and he had to sneak back into his room.

[series masterlist here]

#angus tully x reader #angus tully smut

[lazyjellyfish300]

Mom and Dad are fighting on Christmas 🎄⛄🖤

Miguel O'Hara x wife reader

TW: MINORS DNI, angst, relationship and marriage troubles, fighting, insecurity, jealousy, postpartum, talk of divorce, mild smut at the end (p in v, idk to me it's mild, I've seen worse) word count 3.3k

Credit to the gif owner keezinemugstudent! 🙏🏽

Synopsis: your marriage to Miguel is on the brink of collapse. He wakes up and tries to fix it on Christmas. Jerry Maguire inspired. 😁

Valentine's Day spinoff sequel

I tried to write something angsty. Hope everyone had/is having a good holiday season! ⛄

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Miguel's in the doghouse and he knows it. You requested a separation after you reached your limit. The kids were sick in the weeks following Thanksgiving and before Christmas and he spent the whole time working late and coming home at suspicious hours in the morning, leaving you drowning. You and the kids were piled in yours and Miguel's bed when you'd hear him come home, the front door closing and his familiar footfalls dredging down the hall, pausing only at the fridge before passing out on the couch. Oh you hated him right now. The resentment had creeped in and poisoned the marriage inside and out when he became exceedingly obsessed with work.

Protecting the stability of the multiverse was a huge undertaking, but, like all things in his life, Miguel took it to the next level. But when it came to his personal life, he was grievously lacking. The passion where you two would do it twice a day and couldn't keep your hands out of each other's pants? Ancient history. The small pecks you'd trade in the mornings were a thing of the past. Gone were the days you two would text all day and go out for dates. You didn't so much as get an "on my way home" text, instead letting the sound of his car pulling in the driveway be your confirmation of his return. You two were more roomates at this point than husband and wife.

Traditionally, on Christmas Eve after the kids went to bed, you two would take that time for each other, eating the cookies for Santa that were conveniently your favorite kind, placing the presents you two carefully shopped for and wrapped (well, mostly you wrapped), under the tree. A hysterical giggle would escape your lips at the milk mustache on Miguel's face. Then you'd two get busy on the floor in front of the fireplace, fighting back laughter as you tried to keep your moans down, every year struggling a little bit more than before because your knees weren't what they used to be before taking it to your bedroom for one more round before the chaos of Christmas morning began.

He was perfect in the beginning. The romance between you two used to be at an all time high. He was a nerd in the same friend circle when you knew him in high school, wickedly smart, the guy who won the Robotics and Math Olympiad comps and got visits from Ivy League college STEM departments, eager to scoop up his talent. Sure, he was cute, but when he went to college is when you heard he had a major glow up and became kind of cocky. You heard about how he became Spider-Man and was pretty much the greatest thing since sliced bread in the eyes of the people, saving lives and fighting villains and all. You knew how the opposite gender seemed to malfunction and forget how to act around him, so you stifled away your tiny crush you had on him for years in the smallest crevice in your brain in a forgotten folder, never thinking it'd see the light of day.

When you saw him at your high school reunion, you decided to be brave and remark on how they're playing Nickelback, which he shrugged and said he actually enjoyed them, to which you sheepishly admitted that you really enjoyed them deep down too, you just couldn't resist making yourself the person to talk shit, since there's always gotta be one hater when Nickelback comes on. A canon event, if you will. This earned a tiny side smile from him, a chink in his stoic armor. After 8 beers, some flirty jests, and a little backseat rendezvous in his car, that became the last night that you two spent apart.

You were a single mom and he was a single dad. He had Gabi who was now 10 and you had Marcus who was now 6. Then you two had little Anthony together who was now 2. At first he was at all the doctors appointments, all the parent teacher conferences, he knew what the kids were doing in school. He did bed times every night, reading in a silly voice with Gabi and Marcus both balancing on his lap while you rocked baby Anthony, smiling when you heard the kids giggling from the other room. You'd walk in after baby Anthony fell asleep in his crib, your heart melting as you saw this handsome giant of a man usually known to be cold and serious to everyone else, turn into the doting husband and loving father you knew him to be. Now, years of the monotony of every day life, pressures of raising a family, and the dying egalitarian attitude you two had as partners snowballed into your own version of Gottman's four horses, leading your marriage to Miguel into apocalypse.

At first, he welcomed the separation as you two battled in the kitchen.

"You wanna separation, fine, I'll do you one better. I'll fucking leave! Felicia's better company anyway," he smirked.

There wasn't real truth behind his statement, but he knew it would hurt you when you heard it. He'd be lying if he said Felicia wasn't an attractive woman, but, she simply wasn't you. He had learned his lesson on cheating years ago when he fumbled his relationship with Gabi's mother.

Ouch. But his words could be daggers when he wanted them to be, and he knew just how to twist them into you. Of course it was Felicia. Felicia, the gorgeous Black Cat recruit from work. Her silvery hair that halted midway down her back and startling blue eyes that could drown any man in them. She didn't have kids either, a life with her promised excitement, passion, and freedom. She was witty and funny and had a way of making anyone in her vicinity listen when she spoke. And to add insult to injury, she had a killer body.

After giving birth, you became so busy, and with reassurance from Miguel that you were still beautiful to him, you let your desire to get your body to "snap back" sit on the back burner. Signs of motherhood and postpartum marked you with purple stripes running vertical on your soft belly and a new plushness to your thighs. Basically, Felicia was a complete 180 from the woman you were, which made the sting of his words that much more unbearable. He took your vulnerabilities and threw them in your face.

"Oh so you admit it, finally! I know there was something going on between you two. Makes sense. She's a gorgeous woman, right? She can fucking have you then. What, are you in love with her?"

Miguel rolled his eyes, annoyed with the superficialness of your statement and your obsession with looks, despite him reassuring you many times that he wouldn't look at other women.

"I'm not in love with her, but she doesn't nag me all the fucking time like you do. I bust my ass every day for this family so you don't have to work. I don't know who this new woman is that I'm looking at right now and what she's done with my wife, but it's not the woman I fell in love with. It would be nice if you could show me a little appreciation once in a while."

You felt your blood pressure rise.

"Appreciation.... APPRECIATION, are you fucking kidding me?! I was up all goddamn night with Gabi and Marcus. I run this fucking household all by myself. I quit my fucking career to stay home and raise your kids. Do you not understand how lonely that is?"

"I'M LONELY!!! " he yells, triggered, the feelings bottled up, fizzed over and hurtled at you like a cork on a champagne bottle. "How do you think I feel? I got women at work practically throwing themselves at me but I don't do anything about it because I'm a good husband. Meanwhile, my own wife doesn't wanna fuck me. I'm a prisoner in my own fucking house."

Your eyes almost slipped from their sockets from rolling them so hard. He seemed to want a cookie and a gold star for just being loyal, the bare minimum.

"Oh, so you wanna fuck them? Go ahead! Maybe I'd fuck you if you actually gave a shit about me and not like I'm some damn fleshlight you use to get off!" You hurl back.

He left and checked into a hotel down the street.

A few weeks had passed and it was now Christmas. You were getting used to being separated but your heart still ached in your chest. You couldn't go on doing life, when the one person you did life with was nowhere to be found. You couldn't listen to your favorite songs, eat your favorite foods, or even look at your own children without being reminded of him. Gabi was his spitting image. Same with Anthony. Even Marcus, who was his stepson, started adopting Miguel's mannerisms. The way he'd scratch his head while he did his math homework, deep in concentration.

It was Christmas evening at your mom's. You joined the other women in your family, your non-politically correct Aunt, your soft spoken sister-in-law, your mother with a don't-try-me attitude, and your younger sister with a sass to rival your mother's. You were all complaining about the men in your lives, your aunt rattling off about her 3 ex husbands but, 'hey she collects alimony from two of them so she can't complain!', your younger sister complaining about the frat guys at college who just wanna get in your pants, your sister in law who's silent the whole time (your brother treats her like a queen), and your mom about your asshole dad with an erratic mother who was incapable of cutting the apron strings and made her life a living hell. The kids are laughing and playing in the basement, eagerly trying out their new Nintendo Switch Santa left under the tree.

"I'm here for my wife."

Your feminine council meeting is interrupted by an unwelcome masculine figure. It's your estranged husband, Miguel, the coffee-colored strands of hair that hung over his forehead starting to wet from the snowflakes that melted under the warmth of the room as he stepped inside, a look of regret and longing embedded in his eyes that you hadn't seen since your earliest days of knowing him.

His strong hands dangled at his sides in fists, his chest heaving up and down. His navy blazer bearing dark water stains from the melted snow. He had a revelation at work. He and Peter B. stopped an anomaly that was terrorizing the streets of Queens in Peter's universe. The battle was close, almost a little too close to where he lived, putting MJ and Mayday in direct danger. After the job was done, the moving and emotional reunion between Peter B., MJ, and Mayday was his epiphany.

As the little family reveled in their joy and relief of evading the ultimate disaster, the only thing there for Miguel at the point of his return was the inanimate, empty, thin walls of his apartment and the thoughts of you, his severed family, that inevitably haunted him. He needed you back. He needed to apologize and fix it now.

He ran from your house to your mom's in the snow and all. It was the first Christmas Eve he spent not in between your thighs and buried deep inside you. It was the first Christmas morning he didn't wake up to Gabi's blueberry pancakes and Marcus tackling him while Anthony screamed in delight. It was going to be the first Christmas night without his family by his side, an uncomfortably obvious empty seat at the table he rightfully belonged. Next to you.

Sometimes you don't know the value of something until it's gone. Sometimes life gets in the way and you forget to appreciate the person in front of you. Why did I treat my wife like garbage when all she ever wanted was for me to ask how her day was? Why were we on our way to winding up like both sets of our parents? Doomed to repeat the cycle of divorce and hurt. Doomed to lose your faith in love and marriage like all the maternal figures in your family before you did.

Now here he was, in the living room while your mom, sister, and aunt moved towards each other, eyes squinting, three pitbulls willing to jump in on your behalf while your sister in law just stayed frozen in place. He was in enemy territory and he needed to choose his words carefully.

"Not here Miguel..."

"YES here. Right now." He says in a firm voice. "You're not getting rid of me, woman."

You scoff, almost amused by his sudden urgency and painting you like you're the one who wanted this family to be broken apart.

"The kids are downstairs..." you start to say, hoping that the mention that innocent ears could be prying into the adult conversation would help him simmer down.

"I'll see them in a minute." He says flatly.

"I miss my wife...."-he chokes on the last word, wife.

"And I want her to come home." He knew at any time his words would give way to the reservoir of tears built up behind it.

You stood there, incredulous.

"I don't want to come home to an empty apartment. I don't want my own bed. I'm ashamed it took me losing you and the kids for me to wake up. And, I'm so so sorry. I'll do whatever I can to be better. To be a better man for you and the husband that you needed. We both got caught up in real life and focused on the kids so much that we lost each other. Well, this is me trying to find my way back."

Your lips parted slightly as your breathing became heavier. This was all you ever wanted to hear him say. Stop neglecting the love between you two that laid dormant, a plant starved of sunshine. For him to finally shake off the stubborn shackles that was his ego and express himself to you. Let him allow you back into his heart, no longer as a guest, but a permanent resident.

"You're... you're everything to me. And I'm not leaving here tonight until you let me know if you'd allow me the opportunity to get hurt by you again," a tear rolled down his cheek, his scarlet eyes yearning, his hands pining for the feel of you. As though the madness of not having you alone could stop his heart from beating, stop his world from turning, rearrange life as he knew it into a hollow existence not worth seeing.

Your own reservoir could not be held back any longer and started to roll down your cheeks. He managed to peel back the walls you built with his apology, revealing the woman underneath who just missed her husband.

He steps closer to you now, eager to bridge the rest of the space between your bodies.

"You still love me?" he asked softly.

Your chest heaves, shoulders raising then falling sharply, feeling yourself crack with exasperation under his burning gaze as you softly answer,

"Never stopped."

He grabs you and pulls you into him, his embrace is tight as though you'd disappear if he dared to break it. He tangles a hand in your hair and presses his cheek into your head, his eyes closed, drinking in the scent he'd been away from for weeks. You bury your face in his chest, trying to make yourself small and allowing his frame to swallow you whole, not minding his wet shirt and blazer that still have a slight chill on them from the storm outside, allowing your body heat to seep into his. You both began to rock back and forth a little bit, still locked inside your hug. It was as though the passing of time had evaporated and it was only you two in the room, nevermind your family witnessed the whole thing.

After several long moments, you pull apart and he offers you one of his dazzling smiles, one you hadn't seen in months. The kids have made their way upstairs and shriek with excitement when they see their dad and Miguel bends down to scoop them up. You smile and stand beside your mom who scoops you into a side hug. With her blessing, Miguel stays and celebrates the rest of Christmas with you and your family.

Gabi, Marcus, and Anthony are now all tucked in. The sugar from the chocolate they consumed all day had worn off, making them crash hard in their beds. You and Miguel are cuddled up on the couch watching the fireplace, taking some needed time as a couple. You stroke his strong arms that are wrapped around you with your fingertips, watching the way the flames leap and spark in the air when they crackle against the charred wood. You look up at him and feel a wave of desire wash over you that you had pent up for months as you study his chiseled features and the way the fire's glow highlights his skin.

"Should we end this Christmas with a bang?" You ask, pun fully intended.

Miguel looks at you tiredly, trying to act like that wasn't a witty remark but he lets out a chuckle. "I'd love to," he whispers.

He takes both your cheeks in his large hands and brings his lips to you immediately. They're soft and full. You feel yourself melting into him every time he sandwiches yours in between them. He reclines you backwards, slowly, until he's on top of you. He lets the weight of his body and hips come down on you little by little, making you arch your back, so your body can better receive him.

Once he lets you taste his tongue, you open your mouth wider, permitting him to deepen the kiss, tossing kindle onto the growing flame between you two, and it's not the one in your fireplace. You take your turn to dial up the heat, seizing his bottom lip in a gentle nip from your teeth, earning a low groan from Miguel and a tightened grip on your hair.

As you continue your steamy makeout session, he begins to hump gently against your clothed body, a nonverbal plea for the wet friction only the inside of you can provide.

After your frantic hands strip each other of your clothes, you've transitioned so you're straddling him in the lotus position, goosebumps popping up all over your skin as your bare body meets his, a high pitched gasp escaping you as you sink down onto him, his mouth falling open and his eyes shutting closed as he breathes in your ear,

"God, I missed you, baby."

You whine into his neck as you coil your fists in his hair. His hands fly to the soft flesh of your sides, using them to move you up and down, his haggard breaths making you weaker and weaker by the minute. You hum,

"I missed you even more."

The next move of his hips is harder than you anticipated, causing your brain to go fuzzy with pleasure.

"How much?" he exhales in a sultry tone.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you all week,"your tone turning into pleading as you feel yourself approaching your limit.

Miguel can't help but feel himself lose his mind a little bit at your words and at your reaction, sensing you won't be able to hold on much longer.

He lays you down, while still keeping himself inside. He slows down to a more sensual pace, breathing in the sight of your wild hair clinging to the couch cushions, evidence of him hitting you in all the right spots every time the inner corners of your eyebrows squinch upwards and your lips fall open.

His loving eyes burn with worship of your body and how well you're doing as he runs a thumb along your chin then pulls down your bottom lip, leans in and mumbles quietly into your mouth,

"Merry Christmas, Mrs. O'Hara."

-------

🖤

#miguel o'hara #spotify #miguel x reader #miguel atsv #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara #across the spiderverse #fanfic #miguel o'hara angst #Spotify #miguel o'hara smut

[karinab00bs]

Doin' Time

Karina x Named reader

tags: enemies, enemies with benefit?, cock-riding, tit-fucking, blow jobs, dirty talk, lots of pet names (baby & princess)

summary: Ethan, a popular and charming guy, engages in a secretive and intense sexual relationship with Karina, the sister of his friend. Their encounters are characterized by lust, dominance, and a mix of conflicting emotions. Despite their mutual dislike, they share passionate moments that seem to bring a temporary escape from their everyday lives.

Ethan lived a great life. He studied on a very popular university and was the star of their football team. He had modeled for some famous Korean brands, which gave him a lot of free designer clothing on top, and it didn't need much for anyone to fall for him. A charming smile here and a nice word there and he would get anything he wanted. It just came naturally, it was a gift and he was grateful because it made his life so much easier.

Of course, he had some bad habits, like being a lazy ass and breaking some hearts here and there. But Ethan had a much bigger problem and she was by far his worst habit of all. She was the younger sister of Yu Family. Ethan hated her so much because she was always so arrogant and so full of herself and nothing like her brother– Kevin, Ethan’s friend– at all. Kevin was a very caring friend, helpful and athletic– a born leader.

They knew each other since elementary school. Kevin and Ethan had been always in the same class together– and so had his sister. She had been always that popular girl other kids wanted to be friends with and this hadn't changed at all as she got older. During their high school years, she'd only date the popular guys– although she had been seen with various girls too and there were a lot of rumors of her being involved in group sex at a party– although Kevin denied that anything like that had ever happened.

They ignored each other at university and when they talked at Kevin’s house, it became clear that they hated each other's guts. Except at some point– it was at a party of one of his friends– Ethan had had enough and had just grabbed and kissed her to shut her mouth. Ethan couldn't even remember what they had fought about. Was it like always the simple annoyance when they saw each other? Or had there been a real reason? Ethan couldn't remember and it didn't matter at all for the things that had followed and been still ongoing.

The kiss had escalated pretty quickly and had ended with them fucking on a billiard table. Despite the lack of a reason, Ethan knew exactly what she was wearing that night. A tight black satin dress that had barely covered her long slender legs, but had wrapped her womanly curves in so stunning, that again every eye had been on her while she was dancing. She had looked so unbelievably gorgeous with the fabric only hanging around her stomach, while Ethan had sucked her perfect pink nipples, fucking her tight pussy so deeply that she was screaming. He had made her come twice that night.

Since then they hadn't been able to stop, their lust and hunger for each other was so overwhelming sometimes, that they couldn't even hold back when Kevin was in the same room. He would finger her under the kitchen table, while she was rubbing his dick through his pants and it made the sex after so much better. Sometimes Ethan would go over to Kevin’s house, while the older was still occupied with his club activities, just so he could have his way with his sister. She wasn't prude at all. He remembered that one day last week pretty clearly.

He'd come over after school to meet her and they'd started to make out in the kitchen and just as Ethan wanted to relocate their make-out session to her room, she'd pushed him away with a sly grin. Her long manicured fingers had wandered over the kitchen counter as she lifted herself on it, spreading her legs wide for Ethan with the words What's wrong with right here on the counter?

Her name was Karina. She was overwhelmingly attractive with her long legs, always showing because of her dangerously short skirts. Her long, silky brown hair and that really nice set of tits that were showing under the blouse of her school uniform made everyone fall for her. Karina’s flowery perfume always smelled so enchantingly, so feminine and was a perfect fit for her– although Ethan would never admit that he loved it on her.

Ethan hated her when she was talking, but he loved it when she was screaming his name, begging him to fuck her deeper and harder– additional to that, Karina’s mouth around his cock was like heaven, so was her tight pussy. He had felt bad at first for fucking Kevin’s sister behind his back, but since he didn't hurt anyone and Karina wouldn't stop him either, he could live with that.

It was a quiet Thursday afternoon as Ethan went back into the locker room with his teammates. They had just finished their practice for the day and Ethan was looking forward to having a nice hot shower to wash the stress off his body. With a satisfied sigh, he got rid of his sweaty tracksuit, threw it carelessly into his bag and moved into one of the shower cabins. In contrast to the other players of his team, Ethan’s body wasn't as strong and muscular. He was skinny, had always been skinny but apparently, this wasn't an exclusion criterion to be popular with the girls.

Sometimes his friends would tease him that he was still unable to commit himself to someone and was wasting his time with meaningless one-night-stands. No one knew that he basically was seeing someone on the regular– well, fucking someone on a regular basis would describe the circumstances much better in his case. Especially because Karina and Ethan weren't talking to each other in front of others, no one was actually even thinking about the possibility that these two would share a much more intimate connection. Although some of their friends had seen them kissing on that particular party, they had simply blamed the alcohol for it.

What had they been arguing about? Ethan closed his eyes as he washed his hair and thought back at that night of the party. He thought about how angry he had been, how hysteric she had been and that very first moment their lips met. It didn't even deserve the word kiss in the first place, were their lips simply pressed against each other. Did he do it just to shut her up?

That was something he'd ask himself pretty often recently because he could've just left the party and ignore her like he always did. She had pushed him back, a confused look on her face, her fingers clawing into his shirt. Ethan remembered that blush on her cheeks he had never seen before and it definitely hadn't been the touch of pink rouge. Her cheeks would always have that natural rosy touch after they had sex and Ethan thought that she always looked the most beautiful right at that moment when she reached her climax, so vulnerable, out of control, her body shaking under him.

She had indicated him to come with her, with her head low as they started to climb up the stairs to the first floor. Ethan hadn't asked questions, where they were going or why she seemed so familiar with one of his friend’s house, and just followed her. The simple touch of their lips had ignited something, a fire that was spreading, escalating with every kiss and touch they'd shared. He could still feel the silken fabric under his fingertips, as he had opened the zipper of her dress while kissing her delicate neck.

It had been a few days since he had been with Karina and for some obscure reason, Ethan missed her, though he had seen her walking around the field earlier and he was wondering if she was going to stop by. Just then he noticed that it got quiet in the showers, so he moved the shower curtain aside to check for his teammates who must've already left. Well, it wouldn't have been the first time for Ethan to fall asleep in the shower, so no one was actually questioning him when he was the last one leaving.

He stepped back under the water and scrubbed his body with soap before he turned it down and got out of the shower. With a towel around his hips and another one rubbing his hair, he walked outside to the lockers just to find her sitting on the bench beside his bag.

“At least you're not smelling as bad as your clothing.”

Karina said with a disgusted expression towards Ethan’s bag – not to mention that the whole locker room didn't smell like a field of flowers instead of sweaty trainers and various scents of deodorant. She was dressed in her school uniform and even though her skirt didn't leave much room for imagination, he couldn't see her underwear– well, assuming she was wearing any in the first place because sometimes she wouldn't if they had to be quick or simply because she loved it to tease him and knew that Ethan’s dick would become hard just by imagining her without her panties.

“A little bit of exercise wouldn't hurt you either.”

Hearing her snappish comment already gave Ethan the feeling of another headache incoming and he simply rolled his eyes as he stepped closer to her. They both knew why she was here and what they were going to do, but that didn't stop them from showing how much they disliked each other.

“Well,” She got up from the bench, both now standing right in front of each other, their eyes locked. Karina was nearly as tall as him, so it was an easy task to look her straight into the eyes, seeing that usual spark she got. She was so full of confidence, knew what she wanted and needed and also that Ethan was going to give it to her better than anyone else. Karina slowly reached up to her blouse and started to open the buttons, one by one, never breaking their eye contact.

“I'm here for some exercise called cock riding.”

With a challenging grin on her shiny lips, she tossed her blouse off her shoulders and somewhere behind her– possibly onto the bench. A white laced bra covered her perfectly shaped breasts– it was one of Ethan’s favorites and he lost count on the many occasions he had already got rid of that piece of fabric. He hated it that she got so much power over him and that he wasn't able to say no to her as he stepped closer, his hot breath ghosting over her jaw while his fingers snipped her bra open.

“Then get down on your knees and let me fuck your tits, princess.”

Ethan ordered with a deep voice into her ear and pulled the piece of fabric down to toss it aside. Karina was good at teasing him but since two people could play this game Ethan didn't give her the satisfaction of him touching her perfect curves– even though he really wanted to. He wanted to suck on her hard nipples, caress her breasts with his big hands, while he was kissing her breathless, sucking on her tongue until she was whimpering, pressing her smooth body onto his.

“You're such a fucker.”

Ethan smirked at her and sat down on the bench, searching for the lube inside his bag before he looked up at Karina, shaking the bottle of lube in her hand before she got down on her knees in front of him. She easily got rid of the towel around his hips, wrapping her long fingers around his soft cock to work him hard without hesitation– reservation was definitely a word that didn't exist between them since the very beginning of whatever it was they had. Karina gave his shaft a few slow strokes with one hand while she used her the fingers of her other hand to caress the top of his cock, carefully rubbing her thumb over his frenulum with a minimum amount of pressure before she formed an 'O' with her thumb and her index finger to stimulate the tip more intensely.

“And yet you're always coming back for more.”

Ethan moaned, stroking a few of Karina’s long locks aside. It never took long for him to get hard when Karina was touching him and he still couldn't figure out why it had to be her out of all the pretty, actually nice girls, he was attached to this one– the one he couldn't even have a normal conversation with. Well, they were speaking a lot more during their sex sessions than ever before but Ethan was sure it didn't count. He had had sex with a lot of other girls and none of them had such a strong impact on him like Karina.

“Just because this perfect cock is sadly attached to your body.”

She bit her lower lip while her thumb rubbed around the tip in small, devotional circles before she leaned down to do the same with her tongue. She could never get enough of him, his size and thickness were just perfect and he'd always make her come so breathtakingly hard, that it would've been a shame to abstain from it. Ethan hissed and licked his lips as he watched Karina playing with his cock like it was the holy grail and he found it somewhat amusing to think about her riding a dildo in the shape of his cock– although it definitely brought them both much more fun with Ethan attached to it.

A hot wave of her breath on his cock made Ethan shiver, as she let go of him to cover her full breasts with lube. Just looking at her doing this made his cock twitch in excitement and the grin on Karina’s lips told him that she had totally seen it coming. Ethan couldn't help it but everything she did made him so unbelievably weak and horny that he was wondering if he was still thirteen and unable to control his hormones. For an Asian woman she had comparatively large breasts and she was the first woman that had ever initiated something like this and even though Ethan hadn't been sure about this titty fuck thing in the first place, she totally knew how to make him feel good.

He spread his legs wider so she had enough space to kneel between them. Karina gave his cock a few more strokes with her lube-covered hand and began to slowly rub his cock on her right breast, making the head rub over her nub, covering it with his pre-cum, what made them both moan in excitement. She leaned down to lick once more over the tip before she put his cock in between her soft breasts, squeezing them together with her hands, to add enough pressure as she began to rub them up and down his hard-on. Ethan couldn't take his eyes away from his cock between her soft breasts, slipping easily in and out in between, that felt so smooth in contrast to her hard ribcage he felt on the underside.

“Oh fuck, princess, your tits are so perfect.”

Ethan closed his hands around hers, pressing her breasts harder around his cock that made her whimper in a high pitch. He imagined her getting wetter and wetter as he saw her shifting her hips, listening to her suppressed moans and silently admired the light tint of pink that painted her cheeks from the stimulation of her breasts. He started to buck his hips, fucking the smooth gap between her tits that made him bite his lower lip. Just the sight of it was hypnotizing, especially as his dick started to constantly leak pre-cum, that made her chest even shinier than the lube alone.

As Ethan was getting closer to his climax he took off his hands and Karina loosened the pressure of her breasts around Ethan’s hard, leaking cock to wrap her hand, once again, around him as she took him hungrily all the way into her mouth, pressing her wet tongue flat against the sensible underside of his cock, taking him even deeper in with every movement. A deep growl left his lips as he felt his tip hitting the back of her throat and he was once again wondering if Karina had any gag reflex at all. The low vibrations of the moans in her throat made it so much harder for him to hold back, so he grabbed the back of her head and pulled her closer, thrusting into her sinful mouth, not allowing her to move away as his cum shot down her throat without further warning.

Ethan could feel her long nails clawing in his thighs as she pressed her eyelids together, concentrating on breathing regularly and swallowing his come. Even though she really did a great job on that, a thin line of his cum leaked out from the corner of her mouth and down her jawline and just seeing her like this made him moan in pure sensation.

“Fuck.”

She pulled her head back, wiping the cum off her jaw with the back of her hand and looked up to him.

“At least give me a heads-up you dumbass!”

She said a bit hoarsely but in her usual annoying tone that made Ethan roll his eyes half-heartedly. It wasn't the first time it had ended like this but he wasn't a monster and she totally deserved a reward for all her efforts, so he grabbed the hem of her skirt to pull her closer as she was back on her feet.

“I make it up to you, princess.”

His plush lips traced an invisible line over her milky thigh, placing hot kisses on her skin while he caressed one hand up her other thigh in a firm circular motion. Ethan knew his princess needed his full attention now, and he knew exactly how to crack her open, leaving her bare for him to really appreciate the person she was instead of the person she was showing to everyone. And for what it was worth: He was craving to eat her out, to taste her and make her body shake in pure pleasure before he was going to fuck her oversensitive, making her come once again.

Karina sighed satisfied, buried one hand in Ethan’s hair that felt still wet from the shower he had had before and watched him kissing and caressing her slender thighs, praising them until Ethan slipped both hands under her skirt to pull her panties down, already soaking wet – like her pussy. She wanted him so badly, his fingers, his tongue, his cock, whatever he was using to fulfill her with pleasure, would let her touch the sky and therefore they both knew, she'd always come back to him for more. Her body already felt like it was on fire because although she was complaining about Ethan fucking her mouth, coming deep in her throat it was turning her on every time.

There she was, standing right in front of him, only dressed in the skirt that still lingered around her hips, while Ethan looked up to her with a slight grin. His long fingers vanished under the remaining piece of fabric, making her shiver in desperation as his hands got closer and closer to her crotch.

“You're always so wet after you sucked my dick.”

He whispered against her stomach, kissing the soft skin there, while his long fingers rubbed over her folds, not using too much pressure but enough to tease her.

“Do you want me to eat you out?”

He softly bit her stomach, right next to her belly bottom as his thumb brushed over her clit just for a brief second that already made her legs shake, pressing them together unconsciously as she bent more forward, resting her hands on his shoulders.

“Or do you want me to fuck you with my fingers?”

A silent gasp came over her lips when Ethan easily slid two fingers inside of her, making her grip even tighter at his shoulders.

“Talk to me, baby.”

Ethan’s let his thumb brush over her swollen clit again, before he fucked his fingers into her, making her sink down on his lap as her shaky legs gave up on her. He loved to see Karina like this, her red cheeks, her arms wrapped around his neck as she moved her hips back and forth on his fingers so Ethan could easily reach that sweet spot inside of her, that filled the room with her loud moans.

“Eat me out, please.”

Karina nearly begged under her breath and seemed more than thankful as Ethan slid his fingers out of her with a smile, brushing his warm lips over her flushed cheek. He securely wrapped his arms around her body and got up from the bench to turn over and let Karina down instead. She laid down on her back and spread her legs for him, tracing her own fingers between her legs, rubbing them over her clit, while her eyes hung hungrily on Ethan’s.

“Don't make me wait.”

Ethan could feel his cock harden again just by looking at her like this, spreading her legs for him so he could see her perfect pink pussy, so wet and smooth that he held his breath for a moment before he got down on his knees. He grabbed her hand, to stop her from touching herself and leaned forward to give her wet folds a long lick with his tongue, that resulted in a sweet whimper and her hand grabbing his hair.

There was so much about his behavior towards Karina he couldn't explain. Before he started sleeping with her, he had never really cared about giving the girls he'd been with this kind of pleasure. Yes, he was a selfish prick, only caring about his own pleasure, but not with her. Even that night they had fucked on that billiard table, he had taken care of her, made sure she'd reach her orgasm and he was taking care of that ever since. He couldn't explain why he cared so much about her when in the end it was just sex, two bodies connecting without the great number of feelings and love.

Clearly, Ethan had no time to wrap his head around the question why he liked to fuck Karina, to be with her, and set his focus back on the task he was working on. She did such a great job on him, that Ethan wasn't wasting any more time to tease her and decided to give her what she needed. He once again took a long lick over her fold and settled at her clit, giving it a few slow licks before used skilled circular movements. Tasting her on his tongue, hearing her panting, feeling her bucking her hips against his tongue, made him even want more – every single time.

With her eyes closed, she was whimpering his name over and over again, kneading her own breast with her free hand as she leaned her head back, pulling Ethan closer on his hair as he began to suck her clit. His fingers were spreading her folds, caressing them and he slowly inserted two fingers back into her, resulting in her moaning his name loudly, trying to spread her legs even wider for him.

“You're tasting so good, princess.”

Ethan whispered against her mons veneris, looking up to her, while he finger fucked her painfully slow, only concentrating to stimulate that sweet spot inside of her, that made her gasping in desperation. Seeing her arching her back, her legs so shaky and her hand still grabbing her breast while her fingers rubbed over her hard nub and her face – her beautiful face looked so breathtakingly with all that lust and pleasure written all over it.

He could've stared at her like this forever, how exposed Karina was, so vulnerable, so pure. And even though she was in complete mercy of him, Ethan would have never made fun of her. He was aware of her imperfections, that made her even more beautiful. There was no room for hate or ignorance when they were together and naked like this and it was so confusing sometimes. He had started to call her princess because she was always so ignorant, an arrogant diva, only acting in her own interest but calling her princess during sex was different. Why did he like it to be with her? Why did she like it to be with him?

Ethan placed hot kisses on both her inner thighs before he assaulted her clit again with his tongue, using the right amount of pressure as he licked it up and down, drawing circles around it. Every whimper, every begging of her was like music in his ears and he could feel she was already so close, so Ethan traced his free hand over her stomach, up to her breast, she wasn't occupied with herself, massaging it, stroking his thumb around her hard nipple to give her all the attention she deserved.

“Ethan! Fuck.”

Karina fisted her hand tighter around Ethan’s hair, warning him of her unavoidable fall. After a few more skillful licks of his tongue on her clit and a few more strokes of his fingers inside her walls, she came hard against his tongue. Her whole body was shaking, her back arching in desperation, but Ethan wasn't stopping right away, flattening his tongue to press it softly against her clit, while he slowly thrust his fingers in and out of her pussy. Ethan couldn't hold his own moaning back because the fact was he was really turned on and his dick so painfully hard and craving for attention.

Karina tried to push Ethan away as she was oversensitive, but he just wiped his lips, licking over it shortly after, sliding his fingers out of her to get up from his knees. The view of his rock hard dick made her swallow, her eyes filled with lust and desire as she sat up. Ethan reached out for his bag to grab a condom, rolling it over his dick with routined movements before he sat down beside her on the bench and looked at her with a challenging grin on his lips, stroking his cock slowly up and down.

“Didn't you say you wanted to do some cock riding?”

Ethan was amused of Karina rolling her eyes, clearly not in the mood for his teasing attitude, so she slapped his hand off his cock, straddling his thighs shortly after. He placed his hands on her hips, right over the skirt she was still wearing, rubbing his thumbs over her hip bones. The piece of fabric prohibited him to see anything under it and although he loved it to see his cock sliding in and out her wet pussy, he would also enjoy the feeling alone.

“I hate you so much.”

She whispered against his lips, although her tone hadn't had a particular emphasis. With one hand around his cock, she lined him up against her entrance and slowly sank down on him until his dick was completely inside her. She was so prohibited tight and felt so incredibly amazing around him. They both moaned against each other's lips before Ethan leaned forward to kiss her intensely, slipping his tongue inside her mouth, while his hands went up her back, his fingertips tracing over her velvety smooth skin. They hadn't kissed the whole time and now it was like they couldn't even stop. They just kissed, for long-lasting minutes that felt like an eternity.

Ethan didn't know what was happening between them, whenever their bodies were connected like this but he couldn't deny the fact that it felt overwhelmingly good. The kiss provided Karina with enough time to adjust herself to Ethan’s cock inside of her and so she started to sway her hips shortly after they broke their kiss, letting Ethan kiss her neck and collarbones. He wasn't allowed to leave marks on her, but that didn't stop him from admiring her perfect body.

Karina really did know how she could get what she wanted and she clearly did know how to move her hips to wipe every single thought out of Ethan’s mind. He could just see her, feel her tight walls squeezing him as she quickened her pace and was now bouncing on his cock. Her pussy was so unbelievably wet, making it so easy for Ethan’s cock to slide in and out of her. Ethan placed his hands under her skirt and on her firm ass cheeks, giving them a nice squeeze before he started to meet every bounce of her with a hard thrust.

“Fuck, you're taking my cock so good, princess.”

Ethan gasped against her breast, kissing down to her hard nipple to give it a long, slow lick with his tongue before he took it between his lips, sucking on it with great care, leaving her moaning even louder. Her hands found its way into his hair and the small of his back again – and unlike Ethan, she would leave her claw marks regardless all over his back. He knew what she liked, where she liked to be touched and it was once again one of these moments Karina looked the most beautiful. The pleasure was written all over her face, her body so sensitive after her orgasm and still she couldn't get enough, needed to touch the sky once again, getting as far away from her everyday life as possible.

“Don't stop. Never stop.”

She nearly begged, whimpering at his forehead, while Ethan caressed her other breast with the same care. He spread her ass cheeks with his hands, so he was able to go deeper, penetrating her smooth tight walls faster, driving them to their climax in full speed. Karina wanted to come so badly and at the same time didn't want to come at all, too great was the pleasure Ethan was providing her with, but there was no escape from the fire that inflamed her entire being.

She nearly screamed his name while her second orgasm rolled over her like a huge tsunami wave, making her toes curl and her eyes roll back into her head, that everything she could see and feel was all these colorful points, dancing behind her eyelids, as she got carried away with pleasure and great satisfaction. Karina’s grip on Ethan’s back was so tight, but the only thing he was able to possibly pay attention to was this very moment, seeing Karina blossom like a flower in spring, while he never stopped fucking her through her orgasm, giving her the feeling she was coming over and over again. He came deep inside of her shortly after, so hard, he thought he might black out any moment.

It was always like this. Intense, incomparable to any other experience they might have had with other people. And not just Ethan acted differently when he was intimate with her, she did too, reaching out for him, looking at him with glassy eyes, so pure, so perfect, before she kissed him. Ethan always thought that these moments were the most precious ones, when they were just together, just kissing, holding each other after they reached their climax. Even if it was just a few moments of silence before the storm. Silence and the knowledge that everything was falling apart, slipping through his fingers, the second they'd break their kiss.

“Let go of me, will you.”

Karina said a bit hoarsely but in her usual sassy tone as their lips separated, taking all the magic with it. Ethan let go of her so she could get up, walking over to the sink to clean herself up, like nothing ever happened. He looked at her back for a moment before he stood up and threw the used condom away, getting himself dressed.

“What would you’re brother say if he knew that you're spreading your legs for me?”

He said in his usual teasing voice, increasing the distance between them even more, even though he wanted to keep that magic between them for a bit longer, looking at her grabbing her clothes and her bag.

“I'm not doing this with you. It's none of your business.”

She sounded angry as she put her clothes back on, brushed her hair and retouched her make-up in front of the mirror.

“You got a nice dick and you can perform when I need it. That's all.”

“Whatever.”

Ethan shook his head, brushing his hair back with one hand after he got his shoes tied. He grabbed his bag and waited for her to leave first so no one would see them together.

#imagines #idol smut #aespa #fanfic #girl group smut #karina aespa #aespa smut #karina smut #yoo jimin #yoo jimin x reader #karina x male reader #karina x reader #gg x reader #kpop gg #kpop smut #kpop x reader #kpop x male reader #karina #girl group x reader #girl group #aespa x male reader #aespa x you #aespa x reader

[minkyungseokie]

When Nothing Goes Right | LS2

synopsis; Y/n, Logan's long-distance gf, surprises him at the AusGP, but things aren't as happy as they should be

warnings; none

note; requested

note 2; Y/n has no mentioned race but doesn't know English. Jackson is an Oc and the reader’s older brother

Let me know whether you prefer first person or third person pov Please be nice. I haven't written in years and this is my first time writing for F1

Autosports Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Logan Masterlist

I do not give anyone permission to change, copy, or put my work on any other platform. It will only be on top, so if you see it, please report it. Or let me know.

It had been a few years since Y/n and Logan had begun dating. The two met as children after Y/n had started karting herself. They immediately hit off and stuck to each other like glue. Wherever Y/n was, you'd find Logan not far behind with a big smile on his face.

Their families could already tell that the two would be something more in the future. Your older siblings even started a bet on how long it would take for the two to fully understand their feelings and confess. Neither of them won because it only took them until the sixth grade to realize that what they felt wasn't platonic. They didn't understand their feelings fully, but they knew that they were no one just friends.

Everything has been perfect until Logan's career in karting began popping off and he soon entered F4. To make matters worse, Y/n's parents had split and decided that Y/n would go with her mother back to their home country. Dalton and Jackson thought it'd ruin the relationship the two youngest siblings had built and they'd break up, which would break the two since they were madly in love even if they fully couldn't understand what love was, but that wasn't the case.

Despite the distance between them, Y/n and Logan had decided to stay together and find long distance a try even though their parents, siblings, friends, cousins, and neighbours warned them that long distance was hard. Even people online said that long distance wasn't the best idea because it tended to end with one or both partners cheating on each other, however; Y/n and Logan trusted each other with their lives, so they decided to give it a chance.

                     •⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•

Now, Logan was a driver in Formula One and Y/n was studying at Uni. During their time apart, they'd only seen each other at least twice. Even though they haven't seen each other properly in years, they have only grown fonder of each other.

As the saying goes, "Distance makes the heart grow fonder"

Y/n plopped down on her bed in nothing but a towel, answering a FaceTime call that came in on her computer, "Hey, you." Y/n greeted happily, "Hey, babe. I'm sorry to call you so late. I know you're probably busy and tired from work..." Logan sighed. "No! You're fine, love. I just got out of the shower. Anyway, what's up?" Y/n asked, removing the towel off her head and running a hand through her hair, "Nothing much. I just wanted to see you." Logan flirted, giving Y/n a smile.

Y/n stood up from the bed and began towelling herself off, "That's cute. If I'm not wrong, the Australian GP is coming up. How do you feel?" Y/n questioned. "I'm excited. To be honest, I want doing well last year. But it's a new year and you know how I worked hard during the break, so I'm ready. Speaking of the Australian GP, do you think that you can come watch?" Logan hesitantly asked, looking down before looking back at Y/n, who was now sitting on her bed in pyjamas.

"I...Logie, you know I'd love to..." Y/n hesitantly started, "I know. You have work and school, but you have never come to a GP before. I want you to come to support me at least once. But I understand. I don't want to force or coerce you to do anything you can't or don't want to do. You'll eventually come to one, right?" Logan asked. "Of course. I plan on coming as soon as I have the time to." Y/n promised.

She kept thinking about the fact that she had never attended one of Logan's races and began feeling like a shit girlfriend, so she ended up DMing Logan's childhood friend whom she had only heard about from Logan, Oscar Piastri and he somehow got her in contact with Alex Albon, Logan's teammate. Together the three made plans to sneak Y/n into the GP without Logan noticing.

It wasn't hard.

She had notified her job and her school of her trip and packed for Australia. She got on a plane as soon as she could, which ended up being the afternoon of FP2,dropped her things off at the hotel, leaving it behind the desk so she could share a room with Logan, and made her way to the track with a VIP pass in her hand.

The girl was practically vibrating as she walked through the paddock by herself. She was supposed to be looking for Oscar or Alex, but she was way too excited to see her boyfriend again. Luckily, Alex spotted her while she was roaming the paddock, "Hey! You're Y/n, right? Logan's girlfriend?" The man asked, approaching her, "Oh, yes. You must be Alex. The teammate." Y/n said, holding out a hand for Alex to shake.

The British Thai driver looked down at her hand before taking it and giving it a firm shake, "It's lovely to meet you. Logan's been talking about you. A lot." Alex said, jokingly rolling his eyes as if he was annoyed, but he truthfully enjoyed seeing his teammate talk about someone who made him happy and kept him sane while he was having a shit year. "Hey, mate. Is this her?" Another voice asked, but this time it was with a strong Australian accent.

Y/n turned to see a brunette in an orange and black shirt approaching them, "You must be the Oscar Piastri that I heard so much about." Y/n said, reaching out fit his hand. Oscar smiled and shook her hand, "I am. You must be Y/n. Logan talks about you a lot." Oscar commented. "So I've been told. It's lovely seeing something other than the pictures Logan sent to me when you guys were younger." Y/n chuckled.

"Come on. FP2 is starting soon and we want you to reunite as quickly as possible." Alex said, leading you towards the garage with Oscar following behind, "So how long have you two been together?" Oscar questioned. "We've been dating for eleven years, I believe. Since we were twelve." Y/n answered, "Eleven years! That's a long time." Alex awed

Once they were close by, Y/n’s heart began to race. She hid behind Alex and Oscar so she was hidden while Oscar pulled out his phone to film the interaction, “Logan, mate! Come here.” Alex called, “What? Do you need something?” Logan asked, voice getting closer as he walked up to them. “We noticed you were feeling a bit nervous, so we brought you something to cheer you up.” Oscar spoke, “What is it?” Logan asked, narrowing his eyes. “Why don’t you guess?” Alex suggested, “Just tell me.” Logan said, “Come on, have a bit of fun with it. Guess.” Alex insisted.

“Just give me whatever it is, mate.” Logan groaned, Y/n chuckled and tapped the boys on their arms, signaling for them to step aside. Logan watched as Alex and Oscar shared a look before stepping aside to reveal his girlfriend. Logan’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened, “Surprise!” Y/n cheered, giving the American jazz hands. Logan ran towards Y/n and scooped her up into his arms.

“You’re here! You told me—“ “That I wouldn’t be able to come. I lied.” Y/n said, burying her face into his shoulder. Logan put her on the ground and bent down, kissing Y/n softly, “I’ve missed you so much.” He muttered, “And I’ve missed you, my love.” Y/n responded, kissing all over Logan’s face. “Logan, Alex, it’s time for free practice.” A engineer called out, “Go out there and do your thing. I’ll be rooting for you.” Y/n said, cupping Logan’s face and connecting their lips.

•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•

Y/n stood in the garage with headphones covering her ears. She couldn’t understand why she never came to a race weekend before, it was exhilarating. She could tell that her boyfriend wasn’t the best on the grid, but she knew he want the worse. It was just amazing to see him in his element, “Go, Logan!” Y/n muttered, clenching the chord between her fingers.

Y/n frowned as an odd feeling settled in her stomach. Y/n put a hand on her stomach and focused on the screen, attempting to ignore the feeling. Something was going to go wrong and she didn’t know what or when. Unfortunately, she didn’t have to wait too long to find out because Alex crashed his car, “Oh shit.” Y/n hissed, biting down in her knuckle.

“Hey, Alex. Are you alright?” Y/n asked, looking at the British Thai driver with concern. “I’m fine.” Alex answered walking away, obviously upset by the accident.

Y/n couldn’t help but feel bad for him, knowing that it absolutely sucks to crash even if she never watched or read up on the sport before.

Y/n made took off her headphones as Logan came back to the garage and jogged up to the American man, “That was so cool! I feel sorry for Alex, but that was so cool! I can’t wait to see you actually racing.” Y/n rambled, grabbing Logan’s hands on hers. While she rambled, Logan just smiled down at her with the softest gaze, “Do you want to go out after this? Or we can go to my hotel room? Have you gotten yourself one?” Logan asked, cupping your cheek.

“We should stay in. Catch up everything we missed and couldn’t talk about on the phone and no, I don’t have my own hotel room. Although, if I did, it probably won’t be getting used.” Y/n tittered. “Let me go get changed and we can go back to the hotel.” Logan said, kissing Y/n’s forehead before rising off to his driver’s room.

Y/n waited and waited, but it seemed like Logan was not coming out, which worried her. Did he get hurt or something? What was teasing so long? Y/n was leaning against the side of the garage, waiting for any sign of her boyfriend, but there was nothing. Until Alex came out, looking conflicted, “Hey, Alex. Where’s Logan?” Y/n questioned, pushing off the wall, “Um, he’s on his drivers room. He’s, uh, not happy right now, so maybe it’s better if you go see him.” Alex suggested.

He pointed out which room was his and continue on with his day, which didn’t really seem out of the ordinary to Y/n. She approached his door and knocked gently, “Logan? Is it alright if I come in?” Y/n called in a gentle voice. It was quiet for a moment before she heard a croaky, “Yeah.” Come from inside.

Y/n opened the door to see Logan sitting on the bench looking distressed, “Oh, what happened? Are you okay? Alex told me you were upset.” Y/n rushed over to her boyfriend, bombarding him with questions out of worry. Logan shook his head, “Alex wrecked his car,” Logan started, “Yeah, I saw that, but what does that have to do with you?” Y/n questioned, kneeling down in front of Logan and grabbing his hands.

“We don’t have a spare chassis, so they’re taking mine and giving it to Alex.” Logan sighed, “What?!” Y/n practically screeched, her confusion and weird turning into anger. “They said that since Alex is the better and more experienced driver, he most likely get the team points.” Logan explained further, “That’s stupid.” Y/n said bluntly, “Y/n…”

“No, don’t “Y/n…” me. I get that Alex it’s better and has more experience, but that’s that dumbest fucking decision I’ve ever heard. That’s like rewarding someone for fucking shit up! He crashed his chassis to the point where it had to be retired, so you have to give up yours? That’s bullshit, Logan!” Y/n argued. “I’m aware. I’ve given my all to this team. I worked myself to the bone during winter break when I could’ve been with you because I wanted it to be beneficial to this team. They are all aware of it.

James said he believed in me. James said he knew that I could go far if I just had a little more time in the car. But it doesn’t seem that way. Maybe I’m just not good enough.” Logan sniffed. Y/n wrapped her arms around Logan’s neck, placing his head on her chest and rubbing his back, “Shut up, Logan. Don’t you dare continue saying those things about yourself. You are good enough. If you weren’t, you would have been chosen for this team in the first place.”

“But—“

“No buts. The previous Williams owner saw something in you that no one else saw and picked you from Formulas Two to drive in Formula One. If you weren’t good enough, he most definitely wouldn’t have chosen you so early. James know he’s dead wrong for this. James know that this is going to be a blow to you, but he thinks getting points is more valuable than your growth. I’m sorry to say this, my love, but you honestly deserve so much better. It’s not your fault that Alex crashed the car. It’s not your fault that this team is so broke that it can’t afford another chassis.” Y/n angrily said, raising her voice before taking a deep breath.

“I’m sorry. You’re upset and I’m over here ranting.” Y/n quieted down, pressing a kiss too the crown of Logan’s head, “It’s okay, babe. It’s what has to be done for the team to gain some points. It’s whatever.” Logan shrugged, “ no, it’s not whatever, but I’m not gonna continue talking about this. Instead, let’s go to the hotel and order food. We can watch our favorite movies together and cuddle until you feel better.” Y/n said, lifting Logan’s head so his eyes met her and giving him a calming smile.

Logan smiled, albeit it was a sad one, but a smile nonetheless, “I’d like that.” He said, “Good. And since you’re not racing tomorrow, maybe we can do a bit more than cuddling. But that’s only if you’re comfortable and willing.” Y/n teased, pulling Logan up from his seated position, “I’d really like that. Thank you for being here for me and I’m sorry you came all this way only to not see me race.” Logan apologized, “Bah, I do anything for you. It doesn’t matter whether you are racing or not, I’m still here for you and I’d still come. Y/n waved off his apology

“I love you.”

“Love you too. Now let’s go.”

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #logan sargeant x reader #ls2 x reader #ls2 imagine #ls2 fic #ls2 fluff #williams formula 1 #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 fluff #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant x fem!reader #formula one imagine

[painted-bees]

Raf's amount of self awareness and the amount of time he spends analyzing himself in his own head seemed a little far fetched until I got to the part about his past relationships and how badly things went despite having started therapy back then. It makes a lot more sense that he didn't get to this level of awareness and grace until way later after years of working on himself. But I really want to know how his relationship with Margie might have gone if he was less aware?

Oh, fun question lmao Assuming he never sees his behavior as something that he needs to work on: I think Margie's impulse to be honest and straightforward, and to wear her emotions on her sleeves would still have likely gotten her past his defenses and into a close relationship. But the closer/more important someone becomes to Raf, the more and more reactive/mercurial/mean he'd get. Those close relationships--the ones he treasures most--are the ones that pose the highest level of danger. They're the ones who'd hurt him the most if they betrayed him. Coupled with Margie's conflict-averse instinct to wilt, roll over, and apologize before considering if she'd even done anything wrong--we'd have likely seen a much more possessive and controlling Raf. We don't see that in his relationship with Lacey, because Lace would often bite back twice as hard, and was able to [very aggressively] assert boundaries with him. Margie, tho--so long as he kept encouraging and enabling her to make music, and providing warm, enthusiastic support on that front, she'd be easily convinced to change any behavior he didn't like--under the pretense that she was working on becoming a better, easier person to live with. I think, tho--if there ever arose a moment where he asserted that she couldn't pursue a music/career-related opportunity (that didn't require his involvement), if he threatened to take back all the 'nice things' he's given her as a tool of punishment/manipulation, or if he started discouraging her from vising friends or family--and if she couldn't reason with him on that front/it consistently resulted in a big argument every time--she'd end the relationship. She was, at least, raised well by her mother to identify that kind of situation as a 'get out now' 0 tolerance red flag of abuse. And--you know...if she had to do that, I think this would be the event that sees her move back home with her parents. Emotionally and psychologically, she'd lose a lot to this relationship. She'd need her family to help center herself again. Otherwise, Raf would likely sabotage the relationship for himself, and break things off with her over some catastrophic misunderstanding or another--where he is just unable and unwilling to hear her out and take her word at face value. But if certain lines are never crossed; if Margie learns to stifle/bury her excited impulses and exist as quietly as she is able to, and if Raf is able to pull himself back from enacting on paranoid compulsions just enough, he and Margie would probably find a tenuous but """comfortable""" stasis. Like with any relationship, they'd have moments both good and bad, catastrophes that maybe only resolve themselves for the convenience of it rather than out of a proper understanding, as well as tender moments of joyful whimsy, when the circumstances were right for it, that'd serve to remind them of why they're together in the first place and help bolster the staying-power of their relationship. But it'd all be balanced...very differently. They'd be a lot less fun, I think. Margie would have never suggested going to Cortes Island. She'd have been reluctant to suggest much at all. Raf would be stuck with the persistent suspicion that she resented him--and yanno--she might. But not for the reasons he'd think.

#hi-note #I don't much like this AU if I am being honest haha

[prettyboykatsuki]

not so little | t. shouto

✮ tags ; gn!reader, minor age-gap (4 years), sfw

✮ wc ; 1.3k

✮ a/n ; this is not the most original idea ever so sorry but i wanted to write my take on it

"Seriously," Touya leans on the door frame of Natsuo's room, self-satisfied smile on his face "You're crushing on...Shouto? Our Shou-chan?"

You cover your face with despair at your predicament. You can't believe you're actually telling either of them. It wasn't like you were planning too. In what universe would you even think to do that deliberately?

But Natsuo is frighteningly good at grilling you about things when you refuse to tell him. Ever since he found out about your crush, he made it his lifes mission to harass you about it. You were careful, damn it. You didn't even actually tell him, he used to his annoying deductive reasoning to figure it out. You tell Natsuo everything.

He knows about every weird medical problem you've ever had, every partner you've ever dated, and every weird fit of crying you've ever cried in your life. He's your confidant. Your best friend. So he knows there's only two sorts of crushes you couldn't tell him about.

If it was on an ex or if it was on one of his siblings. His first guess was Touya - but he figure you wouldn't be this embarrassed about that since you often wolf whistle at him when you're in the house.

Then he guessed Fuyumi, because you're still embarrassed by how pretty she is. When you said it wasn't her - he was briefly stumped before settling in a shocked silence.

"...Are you crushing on Shouto? Seriously?"

Your embarrassment told him he was right, and now you're sitting in his room and hoping the world will swallow you because you're crushing on your best friends little brother of all things.

In your defense, it wasn't always like this. You didn't see much of the youngest Todoroki at all growing up. He was in his dorms for most of highschool and Natsuo spent most of his early adulthood ducking his parents house entirely. You only met him properly when he turned twenty. They're only living together now for Touya.

You kind of wish they weren't - since it'd save you the trouble of being embarrassed twice. You've been seeing Shouto a lot recently, since you've been coming over to hang out with Natsuo.

Shouto is not the 16 year old boy you always made. He's 22 and he's got tall and lean muscle. He's polite but sweet and strangely - much funnier than you could've ever predicted. He's genuinely very kind but most of all - he's been very direct on telling you that he likes you.

You don't think anyones ever pursued you like this in your life. Both of your last relationships ended amicably but neither of them had been this...direct with you ever. Shouto is very direct, actually. Direct in telling you which honorifics to use, and telling you how nice you look, and saying he misses you often. You've been dismissive. Even you're not so desperate as to openly pursue your friends little brother.

But again, he's not so little anymore. He's taller than you now, and he's got lean muscle. He always smells great. He is incredibly pretty in the fairy prince kind of way. This is by far the worst crush you've ever had to endure in your entire life. You've tried to forget.

But just last week he walked you home after patrols, speaking casually and kindly and good god - what is with the broad-shoulders? When did that even happen?

You want to die. You want to disappear into a black hole. You want to scream and cry. Why you're crushing on a boy 4 years younger than you? Why is Todoroki Shouto of all people make your heart flutter?

"Seriously... I mean I knew he was flirting with you pretty brazenly but," Natsuo looks like he's holding back a grimace. If you weren't holding back tears, you'd hit him "...Shouto? Like...really?"

"Didn't know our little angel was such a casanova. Crazy world we live in."

"Neither of you are helping." You say exasperated. Natsuo leans back on his palms, sighing a little. "Do you think I wanted this?"

"It's not the end of the world," Natsuo offers thoughtfully. You give him a meaningful glare from the corner of his bed but he doesn't budge "I mean..I guess if I got to pick who he dated, you're not at the very bottom of the list."

You kick his side. "That's so backhanded."

"He doesn't want to admit you two are a good match," Touya says thoughtfully, unwrapping candy from his pocket. A habit he picked up trying to quit smoking "He'll be lonely if you date Shouto."

"Shut up, Touya."

You ignore both of them for a minute trying to get your bearings.

"You think we're a good match...?"

Touya laughs hard "Is that all you heard? Poor Natsu, already being abandoned."

Natsuo shoots Touya a glare.

"Touyaaaa," You drag, reaching over to tug on the bottom of his shirt "Elaborate."

"And feed your delusions?" He says, clicking his teeth "Fine. Only because it's funny."

Natsuo hmphs, and you look at him apologetically. You two will have to talk about it later. Touya rolls the candy in his mouth, pulling his shirt up to scratch at his abdomen.

"Dunno. You're like... probably one of the only people who's not gonna treat him weird cause he's a good little hero. That brat... it's probably best for him to date someone normal and civilian-esque. Not like being a hero is the most important thing in the world to him."

You flush a little. This is really, really bad. Natsuo gives you a disapproving look. You look back at him a little softer.

"I won't date him if he's off limits." You offer. Touya coos at you both.

"Well aren't you darling."

Natsuo groans, laying flat on the floor.

"Ugh. It's not like I can just say no. It's enough of a miracle that Shouto is showing interest in anyone. And if he misses out on true love, even if it's," He gives you a sideways glance and shakes his head "Even if it's with you then I can't actually stop it."

"I'll reject him if you tell me too."

"What kind of older brother do you take me for?"

"Yeah, what kind of older brother do you take him for?" Touya mocks, laughing to himself "Aren't you just a saint, Natsu?"

"Touya, I'm gonna throw you out of my room."

"Ooh, someone's mad."

Before Natsuo as a chance to come back, the sound of the door opening from the living room downstairs floats up. Shouto calls out. You feel your heart almost fall out of your ass. Touya, delighted, is the first to reply.

"Shou-chan, we're upstairs."

You make a gesture of violence towards Touya who replies by pretending to jerk off then giving you the middle finger. You don't have time to collect yourself before Shouto is upstairs. He's back from patrols and he's a little sweaty. You feel heat creep-up up your neck.

"Touya-nii, do you still—oh," Shouto smiles soft as he realizes "It's you. I didn't realize you were here."

"I came in after class."

"Alone? You should've asked me to walk home with you."

You flush. Touyas' snickering is not helping you at all.

"Isn't that out of your way?"

"It's fine. I do stuff like that a lot," You're almost disappointed until he tacks on "But it's you so it's alright."

You look up at him wide-eyed. He gives you the ghost of a smile. God you're screwed. Before you can reply, Natsuo clears his throat.

"Go wash up. You stink." He chides. Shouto immediately goes back to being a little brother, nodding his head.

"Okay. Then," He looks at you directly. You're so screwed "I'll be right back."

You wait until Shouto is finally down the hall, listening for the bathroom door to thump shut before falling back into Natsuo's bed. Touya breaks out into a fit of laughter as Natsuo sulks in the corner.

But all of it feels like white noise when you compare it to the sound of your heartbeat, thudding hard in your chest.

#todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #todoroki fluff #bnha fluff #writing tag #this idea im sure has been done a million times but i just wanted to write my own version im sorrryfdjd

[goofyahhcats]

Even Under the Coldest Night

Rating: E Pairing: re4 Leon / gn! afab! Reader Summary: Your relationship with Leon Kennedy has been going well, great actually. Between cute domestic activities and sleepless nights (for more than one reason), you two are the picture-perfect couple. You decide to act on that as Leon is helping you prepare dinner. Warnings: Smut, Fluff, Gn Reader, Afab reader, petnames, p in v, cunnilingus, oral (reader receiving), edging (kinda)

Word Count: 2.2k

A03 link:

Dating Leon has its perks.

For one, anyone who went so far as to look at you funny was sent packing by a rough glare or an equally rough pat on the back. You didn’t mind his protectiveness, although he tended to become mildly jealous. 

He would remind you of that every night as he pressed himself deeper inside of you, his voice low in your ear. His fingers would grip your sides tight, sure to leave bruises.

“I do a better job than him, yeah?” a thrust of his hips, “They could never love you the way I do,” his cock bows inside of you at his own words, “I promise, sweetheart. I’ll always make good on that. No matter-” a whine escapes his lips, “-who it is. Fuck.”

You don’t even have to say anything. He somehow managed to get off on his own talking. Of course, the times you did participate, it had him clenching the bedsheets and screwing his eyes shut. Begging to some higher power to give him the strength not to cum at that very moment.

Your gaze was what did it, looking up or down at him with eyes deep and wide with pure love. Your touch felt searing hot, the slightest squeezes to his thigh had him crossing his legs tightly, praying no one would notice the obvious bulge in his pants.

Leon was a sweet man to be with. Adorable in every little thing he did. Cooking? Cleaning? Fixing little things around the house? Adorable. 

“I’m not adorable,” Leon looked at you with quirked-up eyebrows. He returned his gaze to what he was doing, then smirked to himself, “You are, though.”

You would snort, roll your eyes maybe. Your hands would travel up his arms, slowly at first, and then you were wrapped around each other in a tight embrace. It was a charade the two of you knew and enacted frequently. He would always smile in response, offering to

“Prove it to you, yeah?” 

Every time it ended with you spread open on his lap, facing a mirror. His fingers would dip in and out of your pussy as he kissed along your neck.

“Pretty little thing, aren’t you?” he would assure you, punctuating his statement with a particularly deep thrust of his fingers, soaking them up to the knuckle.

Your whines were the only thing that could be heard in your house those nights. Leon wouldn’t even let himself anywhere near finished until you had come at least twice. 

You had also come to admire his physique. Hardened over his many years of working, fighting crime, and beating the bad guys. Today, the two of you had decided to tackle the task of dinner together. It was going well so far, with no unnecessary distractions. You had other plans, however. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t been home in a while, always seeming to be out on some mission. Maybe it was the warmth in the air from the little fireplace in your living room; Leon had tended to it, nursing the flames and chopping wood outside in the frigid air. Maybe it was the love songs that were playing over the radio. Damn it, you wanted him. You wanted him bad.

You stared at his form. Shamelessly undressing him with your eyes. Big, strong, and fucking attractive. His forearms twisted as he began to knead at a ball of dough for which you were supposed to be preparing a bowl. 

Instead, you just watched as each muscle in his arms and shoulders worked together. Moving, turning, stretching. Leon lifted a hand to swipe his bangs out of his eyes. It was funny, although his outward appearance was rough and strong, his hands were always quite soft. The skin of his fingers were gentle as they meticulously explored your body each night. The pads of his fingers were always tender when they rubbed circles around your clit. 

His hair lay gently over his sharp jawline, curving over his ear all the way up to the crown of his head. The color of wheat, swaying similarly in the air as he rocked back and forth. A quiet tune escaped his lips as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, swinging in time with the song on the radio.

You started off innocent, slinking up behind him and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You laced gentle touches along his jawline from behind, threading them through his golden hair as he worked. He smiled, kissing the hand that got too close to his mouth. You continued your work, opting to run your hands down over his chest. You prodded and squeezed at each muscle you found, dragging your fingertips against the sides of his waist. He chuckled, turning you around to face him.

“What are you planning?” he raised his eyebrows, knowingly.

“Nothing,” you blinked innocently.

Leon smirked, running his knuckle along your chin as you stepped closer, pressing your waist against his. Your arms snake around his upper body, dragging him close to you.

“Likely story,” he mused, this time tenderly brushing at your hair.

You lean your head into his touch, looking up at him with gentle eyes, “You’re the worst, you know?” the smile on your face said it all.

He matched your smile, pulling your face against him.

His lips were sweet and soft. You chuckled slightly, remembering how you had begged him to start using chapstick a few weeks prior.

He pulls away and cocks his head to the side, “What, glad I finally started using chapstick?”

You lean up and kiss him again, relishing in the plump softness of his lips. Pulling back slightly so that your faces are centimeters apart, you giggle.

“Damn right I am,”

Leon shakes his head with a smirk gracing his lips. He blinks, his lashes fluttering about in the light from the fire. His deep blue irises sink into yours, his gaze is soft. The corners of his eyes crinkle up a bit after staring for a moment, and he breaks away first with a snicker.

He shakes his head again to rid himself of his shit-eating grin- hardly succeeding. He returned to you, lips hot and heavy. He attacked your lips first, licking at them and kissing you passionately. His fingers slid all around in your hair, gripping at it occasionally. 

You swatted at his hands, mumbling a complaint about the flour from the dough getting in your hair. Leon perked up at that, dutifully turning and washing his hands in the sink. He flicked the water off of his hands and began to wipe them off on his pants. You groan, handing him a dish towel instead. He smiles and dries his hands off, while you roll your eyes. 

He grabs you by the hand and drags you to the couch. He presses you back against it as he continues to kiss your lips. The cushions were warm and inviting, the light from the fireplace giving the room a warm glow. Your lips made smacking noises as your kiss turned heavy. Leon broke away, face awash in a red blush. 

He smiles graciously and begins to lift the hem of your shirt over your head. You help him, raising your arms as he lifts it. He stops halfway up your arms, holding them up above your head with the shirt bundled between them. His strong grip keeps you there for a moment, as he shamelessly stares at your exposed chest. He lets out a low whistle, smirking to himself.

“Doesn’t get old,” he continues to stare, chuckling.

You roll your eyes, slightly embarrassed.

Leon continued to admire you, running his free hand over your chest, groping at you gently. You squirm, but his other hand holds your arms firmly. After a moment, he decides to let your arms go, pulling your shirt completely off of you.

You reach up and unbutton his shirt, which he tosses somewhere on the floor along with your own. Now even, you allow your fingers to run across his chest and stomach. His well-defined chest and stomach were hot underneath your touch, and he stopped you after a few seconds. You begin to grumble in protest, but he shuts you up by dragging your pants downwards. He gently leans downward, gripping one of your thighs and tossing it over his shoulder. The other lay on the couch, he held you spread eagle. 

You shiver at the feeling of the cold air on your clothed pussy. He gently runs a finger over the wet spot on your underwear, satisfied with his work. He looks up at you, warm blue eyes fill your vision as Leon literally rips your underwear in half. 

You make a noise of protest which quickly devolves into a loud moan as Leon licks at you feverishly.  

His tongue can’t seem to decide between dipping inside of you and drawing circles over your clit. He eventually chooses the latter, pressing his fingers gently to your entrance. You whine and buck your hips. 

Leon chuckles, “Easy,” he lays a hand on your stuttering hips as you rock back and forth against his finger. “I know I’m just that irresistible, but you can at least put up a fight,” he smirks, slipping not one, but two of his fingers inside of your warmth. 

You cry out as his tongue returns to your clit, his tongue lapping at it like a puppy would water. He sucks against your mound, and he can feel your pussy clench on his fingers.

You were close, so close. Your mind went blank as you shouted his name, fingers twisting at the warm couch cushions. Leon looked up at you as you squirmed and moaned his name. The firelight flickered over your body. Each curve, lump, and scar basked in an orange glow. A few beads of sweat decorated your skin, shimmering in the light. God, you were beautiful.

Leon’s thoughts were interrupted as you grinded down on his face. His nose catching against your clit. A hot flash of pleasure shoots through your veins.

“Fuck- Leon!” You throw your head back, almost there.

With a devilish grin, he pulls away. You gasp and whine, hips bucking at nothing. Leon leans up towards your face, stroking your cheek soothingly.

“Relax sweetheart, I’ve got something better for you,” You look up at him, the phrase not quite setting in as he unbuckles his pants. His obvious hard-on shone through his boxers. He slid those down his legs too, and his cock bowed upwards; hitting his stomach and smearing it with precum. He straddles your hips, looking down at you.

You stare, reaching out a hand to run along his shaft. That caught Leon off guard. His breath hitches as your fingers circle the tip, gently prodding at him. He suppresses a whine as you stroke gently along his length.

“Fuck,” he breathes heavily. You squeeze at him gently as you stroke. His hips buck forward on instinct, “Hey… unfair,” his voice is strained as your strokes increase in speed.

After a moment he decides he's had enough, pulling away from your hand. He rubs his cock against the entrance of your pussy. He slides in while rubbing tight circles over your clit. You whimper, and Leon begins to thrust into you. He tries to be gentle at first, pressing light kisses against your neck as he starts to pick up speed.

“Fuck,” you moan, “Leon, please. I-” Leon nips at your neck, soothing it with his tongue, “Fuck! I need you… I need you right now,” His thrusts became more erratic. He groans into your ear as his hands find purchase against your waist. He curls over you as his pace fails him. He doesn’t hold his groans back now, fingers returning to your clit. 

Leon abruptly pulls out, shoving his head between your thighs. Your voice chants his name in time with his tongue as he licks at you. He tastes you, he tastes himself, and he sucks at your clit frantically. Your moans become higher pitched, and Leon immediately replaces his mouth with his fingers. His cock slips between your folds once again, you grab him by the back of the head and drag him down. Your lips meet, bumping into one another in your frenzy. You feel your orgasm wash over you, pussy squeezing at Leon’s cock in spurts. 

“Cum for me Leon,” you say through lidded eyes, gazing up at him in post-orgasm bliss.

He whines, actually whines. His fluids paint your insides as he shudders, lowering himself completely on top of you. You stay like this for a while. Hot breath fans over each other’s faces as the light from the fire dies down. You had shifted, sitting up with your head leaning on Leon’s shoulder. He gazed contentedly at the fire, stroking lazy circles into your back.

You practically jump out of your skin at the loud beeping from the fire alarm. Leon quickly scrambles off of the couch, making a beeline for the kitchen.

“You forgot your clothes!” you shout through the house, laughing and gathering your belongings with you.

“Fuck!” Leon’s gruff voice emanates from the kitchen. You enter, met with the sight of a very naked Leon standing over a smoking baking tray. He turns around comedically slow, presenting the charred ashes of what once was a pizza to you.

“I burnt the food.”

#resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #smut #leon kennedy smut #re4r leon #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #fluff #fluff and smut

[i-am-baechu]

♡ Summary: Being a father is the greatest gift Namjoon could ever ask for from Y/N. This Christmas it has turned out to be the hardest one for the family. 

♡ Rating: PG - 14

♡ Genre: Established relationship; Dad! Namjoon x Mom! Reader, romance, fluff and angst 

♡ Author’s Note: This is the sequel to Baby Daddy! Also I worked all day on Christmas Eve and on Christmas I spent it with my family. It’s been busy for me!! 

Namjoon knew the day was coming but he didn’t realize it was coming this fast. They spoke about his military leave twice in the past year. Once, in the beginning and the second, in the middle. Both times Y/N was crying and Namjoon dropped the topic. He hated seeing his wife cry. He couldn’t bear the realization on Su-jin’s face that daddy wasn’t coming home at the end of the day and it hurt more that Y/N had to face it alone.  

He wanted to celebrate Christmas early so at least he can see Su-jin’s second Christmas before he leaves. It was December tenth and Namjoon made their living room filled with Christmas decorations the night before. Their tree was filled with ornaments that had glitter falling down onto their carpet and the lights flashed different colors that made Su-jin hypnotized. Of course Namjoon made sure the tree had mountains of presents underneath with cartoon paper hiding what was inside. 

Y/N watched Su-jin open another gift and she sighed. She leaned towards Namjoon who was sitting next to her with a wide grin, “Joon, don’t you think this is overdoing it?” 

He shook his head and kissed Y/N’s cheek, “No, I wish I could’ve done more.”

She let out a small laugh and shook her head, “Babe, how much more could you have done?” 

“Trust me, I had plans.” 

“I don’t doubt that.” 

Su-jin started letting out her giggles when she started playing with her new microphone. Y/N glanced at her and smiled. Namjoon bent down and grabbed a small box that was hidden behind the tree, “Baby, I got you something.”  

She looked back at Namjoon with a surprised look and then at the tiny box, “Joonie, I told you-”

“This is special please.”

She took the box and let out a laugh, “You always had to have it your way.” 

“You’ll like it.”

She opened the box and her eyes widened. It was a ring that had all of their birthstones and engraved in the ring it said, MY FOREVER. She placed the ring next to her wedding bands with excitement, “Namjoon, this is so beautiful.” 

Namjoon placed his hand on top of hers and glanced at the ring, “I just wanted you to know...no matter what. You guys are my forever. Even if I’m far away, I’m always thinking of you guys.” 

“Joon, I don’t need a ring for that. I already know.” 

“I just wanted you to have something...”

She smiles and leans forward, placing a quick peck on his lips, “I love it and I love you.” 

“I love you more.” 

Later that night, Y/N put Su-jin down and it was just the couple. They were in the living room cuddling up watching a random drama with Christmas lights flashing in semi darkness. Namjoon’s fingers carefully went through her hair as she played with his fingers, it was pure bliss. 

“Neh, Namjoon...Do you remember when we met?” 

“Of course I do....”

Another long night and Namjoon felt like shit. All day he was messing up in practice and while no one got mad at him, he was mad at himself. He kept trying but nothing was working. It was frustrating because even Jin picked up the choreography. 

“Namjoon, let’s get some coffee. You need it.”

Namjoon looked up from the floor and gave him a sad smile, “Sure...maybe they have a drink that can make me dance better.”

Yoongi scoffed at this and rolled his eyes, “Shut up, let’s go.” 

They walked down the street to the only cafe open that late. There was soft jazz music playing and the sound of soft talks echoed in the room. whispers that held comfort under the dim lighting. They ordered their usual and waited at a table towards the back. Yoongi was on his phone and Namjoon was just staring outside into the night. He wished he could be better at dancing. He was their leader but he couldn’t help them with the formation, what kind of leader is he? 

“You look like you're thinking hard.” 

A soft voice blended in with the jazz music but it was loud enough for him to hear. He turned his head to see a girl around his age looking at him with a soft smile. The way her eyes looked at him made him feel like he was by a fireplace on a cold day. It was comforting and nice, “Yeah...thinking.”

She placed the cups down on the table and turned her head slightly towards him, “Are you alright? Thinking too hard just causes problems and no one likes problems.” 

“Problems can be the solutions we need.”

“Or the headaches we don’t want.”

Yoongi snickered at this and took a sip of his coffee as he watched the two go back and forth. Y/N heard her name at the counter and sighed, “I have to go but my advice is...don’t be too hard on yourself. We have one life, why be so mean to ourselves.” 

Namjoon watched her walk away and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. There was something about her and he wanted to figure it out. 

She let out a small laugh at the memory, “You were so nervous, it was cute.”

He rolled his eyes at this and changed the channel, “I wasn’t nervous. I was just...overwhelmed...”

“That’s what you said when you asked me out, remember?” 

“Jimin, I don’t think this is going to work.”

Jimin rolled his eyes and handed Namjoon the flowers, “Y/N’s favorite flowers are daisies.”

Hoseok nodded his head and opened the cafe door for him, “Stop being nervous and ask her out before someone else does. Like that guy from the other cafe.” 

“I’m not nervous...I’m overwhelmed.” 

“Yeah, whatever. Just go.” 

Namjoon entered the cafe and saw Y/N watering the plants. He heard Jungkook’s voice playing and he smiled. Y/N told him that she would always support him because she believed that he would become big. She was always there believing in her. 

She looked up and waved at him, “Hey! I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Sorry...ummm....these are for you.”  

She glanced down to see him handing her daisies. She smiled softly and took them out of his hands. She brought the daisies to her nose and inhaled the scent, “You shouldn’t have...I love them Namjoon. Thank you.” 

He felt his face get hot but a surge of confidence flew through him, “Y/N you would go on date me?” 

“Namjoon, are you okay?” 

He knew she was teasing him and she sighed. He looked away with his red face to avoid her mischievous eyes, “Would you go on a date with me?

“Of course I would.” 

“It’s not funny, Y/N.”

“I think it is.”  She reached for the remote and shut off the t.v, “We should head to bed. You want to take Su-jin  to the park tomorrow, remember.” 

He smiles at his daughter's name and nods his head, “Yeah, I wanted her to play with Jungkook while we walk through the park together.” 

“That sounds lovely.” 

The couple shut off everything in the living room and headed towards their bedroom. They both laid in their respective spots and she stared at him with a frown. He raised his eyebrow at this and turned towards her, “Is everything okay, Y/N?”

“I’m just going to miss you...”

“Well maybe Santa will bring me to you.” 

She rolled her eyes and moved closer to him until she felt his body heat, “The only thing I want from Santa is our family together.”

“Baby...” He kissed the top of her head as he wrapped his arms around her waist, “It’s going to be okay.” 

She let out a snicker as she snuggled into his chest, “Been an angel all year, Santa baby...”

He snorted at this and pinched her sides, making her wiggle, “Shush you...”

“Just promise me you’ll write to me.” 

“Of course I will, babe.” 

She looked up and kissed the side of his neck, “I can’t believe Taehyung is shaving his head.”

“I know, he looks like a prince with his hair. It’s going to be wild to see him without it.”

“I always said you looked like a professor that had all the girls drooling during class.”

He smirked at this and he tightened his grip, “Is that so?”

“Very much so...now that you shaved your head...I don’t know you got hotter to me.”

“Really? Su-jin misses my hair.”

She snickers at this and nodded her head, “She does, she was so confused when you didn’t have it but I think you look handsome.” 

“And I think you look beautiful. Let’s sleep.”

“Fine, what time are we leaving?”

“Around eleven.” 

She kissed his chest and closed her eyes, “Good night my love.” 

“Good night.” 

･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･

“Hyung! Noona!” 

The couple pushed Su-jin towards Jungkook and she waved at him, “Good morning, Kook.” 

Jungkook smiled at her and gave her a tight hug, “Noona, I heard you had a surprise.”

She raised her eyebrow at this, “And who told you this?” 

“Yoongi...”

She rolled his eyes, “It’s not a surprise...It’s more I baked you a cake for all your solo activities.”

Namjoon took Su-jin out of the stroller and pouted, “You didn’t make me a cake for my solo...”

“This is why I told Yoongi not to tell you. I knew you would blurt it out.”

“Sorry noona.” 

She let out a chuckle and ruffled Jungkook’s hair, “It’s fine. Namjoon, I gave you a baby. That’s bette than cake.” 

“Nothing in this world can compare to my Su-Jin. Want to play with Uncle Kook, Su-jin?” 

Su-jin made grabby motions towards Jungkook and he happily took her. He kissed all over her face and Y/N smiled at the scene before her, “You can play on the playground. Just be careful, she’s been more curious these days.”

“I will noona. Have fun on your walk.” 

Namjoon intertwined their fingers together and they walked. It was winter but today it wasn’t as cold. It was the perfect temperature. They walked closely together in silence as nature became their theme song. Namjoon glanced down at her and smiled, “What do you think about having another baby?”

She glanced up at him and gave him a surprise look, “Another baby? I would love to have another one but you're leaving soon...”

“When I come back?”

She let out a small laugh, “Maybe Santa can make that come true.” 

“Santa's probably tired of us asking him for things.”

She rolled her eyes and nodded her head, “But that’s the fun of Christmas.” 

“So...Another baby? Hurry down the chimney tonight.~” 

Y/N let go of Namjoon’s hand and started to walk away from him, “I’m going back to Su-jin.”

“Wait no! Comeback!”

#bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts jungkook #bts namjoon #bts seokjin #bts taehyung #bts jimin #bts yoongi #bts x reader #Bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts namjoon x reader #namjoon x reader

[stayandot8]

Drawn To You

Genre: fluff?? i guess??

Relationship type: idol!(lowkeytsundere)Seungmin x I.N's bestie reader

Important Contents: requested, i hope you enjoy my second Seungmin piece

WC: 4k

masterlist

I’d known Jeongin since we were kids. I was about a year older, but he’d always been there for me since the young days, before he became this huge kpop idol star with his group. But after I went away, our friendship strained. 

The problem was that I didn’t tell him that I applied for school overseas in America. I needed to get out of our town, on to bigger things, and that upset him. We told each other everything. Everything…except that. He understood, like the amazing friend he was, but as he pursued his own dream, his time was harder to come by. The questions about America came fewer and slower, phone calls went from everyday to twice a week to once a month until the only time I heard from him was when he thought of me in between recording sessions. He always texted me after recording, something about needing to know I was behind him. I always knew he’d be a famous singer. His voice was always unique. Now the world was getting to see what I already knew as fact. And I was damn proud of him. I made sure to tell him every chance I got. Or at least I tried, because those opportunities came fewer and fewer as the years went on.

 What I didn’t realize until I was already there was that America was not what I wanted. But my family had already paid my way through for me to get there and start, so I owed it to them to finish what I started. No, begged them for. I had to do it. Not just for me, but for them too now. And when I finished, degree in hand (well, suitcase), I traipsed back to Korea like my life depended on it. Why? Well… because it did.

The almost 16 hour plane ride was full of going from one book to another to my music apps and podcasts, fighting the impending boredom that came with the “adventure” in a tin can in the sky. The in-house wifi was holding up as best it could and my laptop was on the brink of overheating for the last hour. My mother’s last text before I took off popped up on my side window of messages. 

Mother: Little Jeonginnie is blowing up big now! You would be so proud of him. He’s come so far since you’ve last seen him. 

Jeonginnie?? I remembered the nickname she gave him and couldn’t stop the gagging noise from escaping in the middle of standing in line to board. The woman in front of me gave me a weird look. I stared back at her, glaring until she turned back around and started walking. I grimaced at my phone before I turned it on Airplane mode and put it in my pocket. What could be so different about him now? Had he grown that much? He couldn’t be much taller. I had always been taller than him, ever since we were kids. My mother blamed my father, saying it was his side of the family that gave me such a…problem. But I didn’t mind. It made it easier to scare off the boys I didn’t like. It also made it harder to find ones I did  like that weren’t intimidated but… whatever. This was the way it had always been.

My mom has been looking forward to this day since I left, crying on the phone that she was ‘so excited to have her baby home again’ that I was sure she would chain me to the kitchen sink to prevent me from leaving again. She claimed the house hadn’t been the same since I left, and by the looks of it, it was obvious. It was missing its usual…lived-in charm that I had apparently brought to it. The pillows were too erect, too fluffed. The kitchen counter was too clean, not a stain nor trace of midnight ramen seasoning on the counter. It wasn’t quite…home. It was a space for my parents to entertain. Which is exactly how I ended up face to face with Jeongin in my living room, arms wide open and looking like… a man. 

He was tall now too. His hair was blonde now and styled, even on his day off. It looked good. And his arms had filled out, no longer the sticks they used to be. Someone had gotten him into working out. Must be his older members… At least his smile was the same. Bright as ever, he stumbled over towards me and threw his arms around me with all his might. 

“Noona! You’re back! I can’t believe you’re back, I never thought I’d be home to see it.” His dimples showed so deep that I didn’t realize how much I had missed the sight of them. They were the kind you could swim in, the kind you wanted to roll out like they were made of dough. Which explained why his fans and members called him Baby Bread. His whole face was squishy just like it had been when I left. Except now, the rest of him wasn’t nearly as squishy. It made me second guess myself a little too much. I shook my head, trying to shake the thought. 

“Yeah yeah yeah. I came back because I saw you all over the internet, even over in America! What could you possibly be doing over there?!”

“It’s my band! We’re going everywhere now, I can’t stand to believe it sometimes. I still have a hard time believing it. But you’re finally back from school! How was your last year?! Tell me everything!”

Thus began a very long and tiring story of my senior year of college, everything from the parent-safe topics like classes and academics and American friends I made until our mothers left for the kitchen to make dinner. Then we moved onto the not so safe for parents ears, such as the hookups, the drama, and all of the bullshit that went down without my mother’s knowledge. He laughed when he was supposed to, he nodded at appropriate times, it was like he was using his media training on me and I couldn't help but laugh. He was mid-question and he stopped to tilt his head.

“What? What’s so funny?” He smiled again when I couldn’t keep it in anymore.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t help it. You’ve gotten very good at listening. If I remember correctly, you weren’t able to sit still and listen to me say more than three sentences at a time.”

“That’s because you learned how to tell an interesting story. College was good for something!” That dazzling smile emerged again and I was thinking those weird thoughts again. It wasn’t that I had thoughts of possibly liking him, it was just that the thought of it didn’t repulse me like it once did. It puzzled me. 

“Yeah yeah yeah. So tell me about your group! What’s everyone like? Is it true what they say online about you guys?”

“Well, I don’t know what you’ve seen so I don’t know whether to say yes or no.” He laughed and sat back in his chair. “But things have been going really well! We’re starting up our tour right now, we have our first stop in two days in Seoul. You should come! I want you to meet everyone.” I’d read a little about them while on the plane, just to take a peak at what my friend had been up to in the years I’d been gone. There were eight of them now, and they all brought something special to the group, at least according to Stay, their fans. I knew who was who and that was about it. It was like I had met them already. “Come on, Noona. You can meet everyone tomorrow if you want to, before the concert. Auntie can come too.” I looked at him with wide eyes and hit his leg when he started to crack up.

“You are not funny, Yang Jeongin.”

His inhaling laughter told me he thought otherwise.

*

Strolling by our favorite cafe, the memories came back to me in waves. Between Jeongin cracking jokes about people who were walking by and me trying to keep him from wandering into the street. Our relationship had shifted constantly from friends to siblings of sorts. Being an only child hadn’t provided a lot of opportunities for the older sister types of activities I had itched for so I happened to find them with Jeongin. Everything I had dreamed about being an older sister, I had with him. It helped me feel…complete somehow.

Jeongin thought later that it would be better if I met some of the members little by little. But then I recieved a text countering that idea, stating that the when the others heard what was happening, they jump in the car bfore he could protest. He decided that he wanted to bring us all here, a place of comfort to me and somewhere he’d always wanted to bring them. He had told me the ones he lived with were the ones that would really test how I would get along with the rest of them since they were the ones who were ‘harder to read’ or something.  I didn’t know which ones were the ones he lived with, only knew their names and faces in the group. I wondered if I’d need to do anything special to impress them or being my simple self would do. Jeongin told me to just be myself,  but if these guys were anything like him, they didn’t really care who I was. They probably had people fawning over them constantly so maybe as long as I acted like I didn’t care, it might turn out in my favor. Not that I really cared if they liked me, but it’s always nice to make friends. 

Walking up to the place I saw them all sitting at a table just chatting, like they were just regular people. They all had hats on, some backwards, and a mix of tshirts and sweats and jeans. One that I recognized, Lee Know, had his hat on backwards and his blonde hair was peeking out. It was then that I realized what Stays were talking about with him; he was prettier in real life. Like, a scary kind of pretty. 

Felix on the other hand, was an ethereal kind of pretty with a soft exterior to balance Lee Know’s sharp features. It was a quick reveal to why they called him sunshine. Even with his dark hair, he radiated warmth and empathy. Like you could tell him anything and he would do everything in his power to help or just to listen. His hat was on sideways, like the boy next to him had moved it and he just hadn’t changed it back.

The boy next to him had his hat on straight. I gathered that one was Seungmin because of his baseball t-shirt. Stays knew he loved baseball, saying he would’ve become a baseball player if he hadn’t chosen this path in life. He was the only one watching me walk up to them, catching my eye and staring holes into my head. I didn’t drop his gaze, having the gut feeling that he was watching me for a reason. I just couldn’t point a finger as to why.

Right at the perfect moment, Jeongin turned around to see me approaching, his broad smile only growing wider. 

“Over here!” He was waving me over to the empty seat beside him and Chan, a plate in front of it with a croissant on its center. A glass full of cream-colored liquid was placed in front of that empty seat, waiting for me. He still knew some things about me, proving the years of friendship withstood the idol training I was sure he went through. It didn’t break the kindness in him. 

His smile didn’t fade the closer I got. In fact, I would argue that it got bigger and brighter, only matched by Felix’s with his blonde hair shining in the sun. They all stood when I finally approached the table, awaiting formal introductions from Jeongin.

“Everyone, this is my childhood best friend. She just moved back from the States and she’s coming to the show tonight so we have to do our best for her.” He was still beaming even after he finished, and all the boys took their turns introducing themselves in order around the table. Seungmin was the last, confirming my suspicion that he was the one that was seated beside me. He said his name, not quite smiling or even a polite grimace like Lee Know had. No, he was just staring at me with wide eyes.

“Do I have something on my face?” I whispered to him, trying to break free of his glare. He shook his head. 

“No.” And with that he sat back down, staring at his mug with a slight rosy blush creeping along his cheeks.

Well that was simple enough. I sat back down in the chair and reached for the glass in front of me. “Thanks for ordering for me, I can’t believe you remembered.”

“I was just hoping that your tastebuds hadn’t changed. You’ve been abroad now, you could have acquired an American tongue.”

“Nope, still the same old same old for me. I’m not so easily influenced by others, Innie, you know this.”

“This is true.” He turned to the others. “She once had the whole class trying to tell her that she had something in her hair and she refused to believe it until someone held up a mirror for her!” He started laughing, reliving the memory. The rest of the group chuckled along with him. Then Chan spoke up.

“So what was Jeongin like in school? We only know a little bit, but what was he like as a kid?”

“Oh he was something else. Some days he would be the best little angel ever and others, he would be bouncing off the walls. I never knew what kind of friend I was getting each day. He was a wild card.” I smiled back at Jeongin. “But he’s better now. Now he’s all grown up and singing and dancing with you guys. It's fun to watch.”

“I can’t wait to hear what you think about the show tonight.” The short, dark-haired one, Han, piped up excitedly. “We’ve been working on it for a while. I’m just excited to show Stay. They’re going to love it.”

“Stay is-”

“Your fan base. I know. I might have done some research on the plane ride back.” Jeongin nodded, impressed.

“What else did you find in your ‘research’?” Hyunjin asked. Stay was right, he was prettier in person. Pictures didn’t do him justice. Pictures didn’t do any of them justice. 

“Oh, this and that. I saw something about you being a painter and Chan doesn’t sleep.”

“That about sums me up.” Chan laughed, Hyunjin along with him nodding. “What else did you find?”

“Let’s see… Lee Know-” The boy perked up, now listening closely. “-seems cold but cares the most. Also a great dancer.” Lee Know nodded. “Changbin works out a lot and is quite loud. Can’t wait to find out if that’s actually true or not.”

“It is.” Jeongin rolled his eyes. I laughed. 

“Han is also loud but very funny. And Felix is the cuddle bug.” Felix nodded along with Han. 

“Stay knows us pretty well.”

“And Seungmin…” I paused, not knowing which Stay fact to bring up first. Seungmin was watching me think, like he could watch all of the thoughts going around and around in my head. It was almost like a challenge. “Seungmin is a mystery. He can rap but he doesn’t unless asked. Stay is waiting for a rap part for him, by the way. He’s a ‘quiet-carer’, like Lee Know. And he says some of the most out-of-pocket stuff anyone has ever heard, making him hilarious as well.” Seungmin’s lip twitched, cracking into a smirk. 

“You’ve got it.” He continued smirking, watching my lips move as I spoke. They flickered between my eyes and the other features of my face. It was like I was hypnotized. I couldn’t look away from his features, his eyes locking on mine and watching my every move. I felt my heart beating against my chest bone, hitting it in time with every second that passed by. And then, all of sudden, it stopped beating altogether. And then it was just us. We weren’t outside anymore, it was real-life tunnel vision. He watched me and I watched him just looking at each other. 

And then a sharp cough from somewhere in the distance. 

Seugnmin broke the contact first, looking everywhere to find where the sound that dare interrupt our moment had come from. 

Jeongin had let out one of his signature grandfather coughs again, his eyes wide open watching me and his band mate. 

“I don’t think Seungmin-hyung is that mysterious. And I live with him. Just stay out of his stuff and you’ll be fine.” The boys nodded in agreement, not paying attention to their younger members. “That’s a little tougher for some than others.” He let out another pointed cough. 

“It was ONE TIME.” Felix exclaimed, righteous with indignation and the others bursted out laughing, including Seungmin. I couldn’t help but notice his cheeks pushing up to his eyes when he laughed for real, as opposed to his chuckle earlier while talking to me directly.  

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. 

*

This place was packed, people of all ages everywhere in various colorful outfits and carrying lightsticks were bouncing all over the place on their way out of the stadium. Girls running to the merchandise lines after the show to grab whatever was left, older moms peering over the crowd to find whomever they were looking for, and venue staff were scattered all around the place, the energy from the concert still setting the place abuzz. 

The show was amazing. I didn’t realize how talented Jeongin was. I knew he would go far in whatever he decided to do in life, but I never knew how far he was really going. It was palpable; the boys loved him. All of them. The way they teased him was reminiscent of how I teased him growing up. He really found a family in all of them. I was happy for him, really.

I watched off to the side in clear view of all of them surrounded by some very passionate fans, bound to get rowdier as the boys kept making their way over. Jeongin made sure to shout me out in his speech in the beginning, saying that he was so excited to perform in front of his childhood friends so as not to make it too obvious who I was. Seungmin found me almost immediately because he was dancing near my side. It was just like earlier; my eyes were drawn to him. The way his body moved, I couldn’t help but watch him even if I was supposed to be watching all of them. My excuse to Jeongin would be that he was the only one right in front of me, but I knew the truth.

 He was doing it on purpose. There was no way he wasn’t. Because everytime he came over my way, he found me again and waved to everyone around me. There was a small voice in the back of my head that was telling me it was meant for me. Or it could have been the smirk that followed his big smile while he waved to everyone around me. While he may not have been looking directly at me when he got over to my side, he was definitely staring me down when he walked away and I watched him until his attention was elsewhere. The more he walked over to our side, the more the fans around me jumped and waved their arms, trying to get anyone’s attention from the stage. When they waved their arms, they narrowly missed my head, sometimes knocking me and causing me to stumble into someone else beside me. Some of these fans are nuts. These hits didn’t go unnoticed by Seungmin though. The way his face fell when they bumped into me caused his big smile to falter, sending the corners of his mouth downwards. The joy on his face disappeared as he stared in our direction, not taking his eyes off our section. He didn’t walk away until I stood back up and returned my attention to him. 

Weirdo.

I was waiting near the stage until a burly man wearing a Stray Kids t-shirt came in and waved me over to take me backstage. Down the dark hallway lit by the same fluorescent lights as the main stage was by now, I spotted a taller figure with dark hair leaning on the wall a ways away from us. He was wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt from what I could tell while being so far away. As we drew closer, he spotted us as well and stood straight, coming to stand right in front of me. He smirked again, just as he had all night long but there was no malice coming from it. No, it was just a mild curiosity. He opened his mouth, possibly to say something snarky as his smirk suggested but just then, Jeongin appeared coming out of a door to our right. 

“Noona! What did you think? Were we any good?” Jeongin smiled brightly, eyes excitedly flicking from one to the other and back again, trying to find my answer. He reached for me, his hand grabbing mine quicker than I could realize what exactly he was reaching for. Seungmin’s gaze darted straight to where our hands connected and his stare could’ve started a fire. If looks could kill, I wouldn't have wanted to be Jeongin at that moment. His deep brown eyes had lost their warmth, void of any playful sparkle I had seen until now as Jeongin dragged me into their dressing room.

*

Next thing I knew, I found myself sitting on the Stray Kids Tour bus on the way back to the hotel for the night instead of in my car, heading back home. And somehow, Seungmin had found himself sitting beside me. Jeongin had escorted me onto the bus, but Seungmin had taken advantage of Jeongin going through his bag of belongings in another section of seats and slid in to occupy the one next to me. I just stared at him, Jeongin unaware of what had just occurred as he continued to shuffle through his bag.

“You’re in my seat.” was all Seungmin said to my stare. 

“So that means you have to sit as close to it as possible?”

“Yes.” And then he put his headphones on. I suspected he used this to avoid Jeongin’s questions because he had just put his bag away. I looked up just in time to see him look confusedly as Seungmin, who had his eyes glued to his phone now. Jeongin looked at me and I shrugged. He did the same and sat in the seat directly in front of me, lightly chuckling. I leaned forward, trying my best to ignore Seungmin’s thigh that was dangerously close to mine. 

“Why is he sitting next to me?”

“I don’t know. He’s a weird one.”

“He said I was sitting in his seat.” Jeongin’s brows furrowed. 

“He doesn’t sit there. He sits near the front most times.” 

I sat back in my seat, bewildered. I nudged Seungmin’s arm until he took his headphones off and when he did, he raised his eyebrow at me. 

“You don’t sit here. What gives?”

“I’m waiting for you to figure it out.” He said with another smirk, a permanent feature around me.

I sat back, stunned and taken aback. He just placed his headphones back on his ears, satisfied with his answer and returned to his phone. 

This was going to be a fun ride.

#stray kids #skz #straykids seungmin #skz kim seungmin #skz fic #seungmin fluff #seungmin stray kids #stray kids seungmin #skz seungmin #tsundere seungmin #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagine #skz scenarios #stray kids imagines #kim seungmin #kim seungmin fluff #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin x you #kim seungmin x y/n #kim seungmin x fem reader #stray kids x you #stray kids x y/n #seungmin x you #seungmin x reader #seungmin x y/n

[myjisung]

ᝰ born to shine ( HJS )

pairing. han jisung x gn!reader

content. rockstar!han, idol!skz, y/n is friends with skz, established relationship, nonidol!reader, kissing, no smut — fluff.

warning. making out ... ?

wordcount. 1,5k

summary. It was not the first time you were watching jisung perform but tonight, there was something special. Whether it was his grip on the red guitar, the way that his tongue swiped against his bottom lip or how his sweat glistened on his forehead, you could not tell. Jisung was shining and you could not look away.

It had been more than half an hour since the concert started and the fans were still screaming their heart out. As surprising as it could sound, it was as if you were right there with them in the audience. From all the way backstage you could hear everyone's fast heartbeat and their gasps at the boys' every move.

August 17th 2023, second day of Stray Kids' very first dome tour. The weeks and even months leading up to the event had been difficult. With the members' hectic schedules and their neverending need to seek out for what came closest to perfection, your emotions were all over the place.

They had been going at it for 5 years now, Stray Kids were professional idols and you were still worrying about their health. Yet, with yesterday's overwhelming success, they proved to you, themselves and everyone else, that they were pretty much unbeatable at what they did best: live performing.

Today too, Jisung had asked whether you could come backstage. It was not about him being nervous but more of his need to keep you close for as long as he could. Afterall, you were going back home the next day—back to your day to day life and away from him until he could come back to you himself. Without any need for his persuasion, you had accepted. There was no way you would have said no anyway, but you appreciated that he had asked.

So, there you were, observing the whole thing backstage. You did not have the best view and neither were you getting the greatest sound from where you stood, but you were having the time of your life. Getting to watch the boys—your friends, really—enjoy themselves to the fullest in that way was one of the things you were most grateful for.

Stray Kids had that way of making every concert feel special. Eventhough a single tour had one setlist repeated every date, they managed to make it both different and exciting each time. Whether it was a tweak of a solo song performed one date and not another or the encore track being different each time, Stray Kids made sure to never serve the same show twice.

Tonight, you expected Jisung's stage. You knew it was coming and so had you the day before. However, despite having attended a few practise sessions and the morning's soundchecks, you had spent the entirity of your boyfriend's stage eyes round and mouth agape. Honestly, no one could blame you. It was the first time you had seen your boyfriend performing in such a way. You had been charmed. So charmed that, a full day later, flashes of his grip on the electric guitar, slightly sweaty permed hair and the new shade of confidence dancing around his features still appeared before your eyes whenever you blinked.

Felix's solo performance was slowly coming to an end. Jisung was up next, you could see the far back of the stage being arranged for his set while Felix and a dozen of back up dancers had the audience's full attention. They had yours too. The song was incredible and the choreography just as great but the thought of Jisung coming up in only a minute had your mind buzzing.

And then he did. The lights went out, Felix walked off stage. You high fived him and held up your two thumbs as he made his way to the cooler in the waiting room for some water. The live band started the next track and you tensed up.

Everytime Jisung performed on his own, you could not help but feel nervous yourself. Especially for every first few seconds since they usually set the tone for the rest of the performance. You knew how much Jisung wanted to do well. He wanted people's praises and for them to see how much he practised to make his stages exciting.

Today was no exception. You had no doubt that he would kill it, again. Yet there you were, hands balled up into fists and wishes for him to do well escaping your lips in low murmurs. The lights went back on, deep reds and blues painting over the stage. There he was, up there, singing in a hand held mic. Jisung's long hair was bouncing along with him, the veins in his neck pulsing as his voice boomed through the speakers. A cropped leather jacket was draped right under his shoulder blades, revealing the tight-fitted white button up he was wearing underneath.

A star; that was all you could think about. Jisung was made to be on stage. He was born to shine in front of an audience and everyday you thanked the universe for letting him do so.

Contrary to yesterday's show, Jisung stripped from his jacket. He let it slip down his arms and drop on the ground before rolling up his sleeves. In quick motion, he revealed his forearms and went to grab the eletric guitar like he did last night. You held your breath as you watched him strum the strings effortlessly. A playful smile stretched his lips and you felt yourself bite the inside of your cheek.

Jisung looked good; too good even. So much so that you almost felt like running up to where he stood and pulling him backstage so that no one else could look his way. But you stayed standing tight right where you were. Instead, you watched his every move. You let yourself get drunk off his pretty face and confident demeanor. Jisung's tongue swiped the corner of his mouth and he went back to the mic to sing the last few lyrics he had written with ease a few weeks back. With that, the song stopped.

Without even a single beat, the crowd screamed and so did you. Jisung thanked the audience, waved his hand in a sheepish motion and then, once again, the lights went out. In the dark, you could make out his silhouette walking towards you.

After such a performance, Jisung came up to you bearing a sweet smile. His eyes all crinkled with joy, sweat pooling at his temples and a few more buttons of his shirt undone, he looked heavenly. You could not help yourself, the moment your boyfriend finally came close enough for you to hear him send a small greeting your way—"Hi baby"—you grabbed his face and pressed your lips against his.

At that, Jisung let out a yelp which you immediately swallowed. His hands found their way to your waist and he pressed your body against his. As the kiss deepened, his fingers gripped at your shirt and one of your palms went to the back of his wavy hair. You pulled at it gently. Jisung sighed against your mouth and you took the opportunity to slip your tongue past the barrier of his lips.

You could not help it, there was something about the way he performed this song that made you want him. You wanted Jisung close to you. You wanted him to know about how much you enjoyed his performance. But most of all, you needed Jisung to know you loved him in all the ways possible.

Against your wishes ( and his too ) you both parted to breathe. Afterall, Jisung was already out of breath from the stage and there you were making it worse, way to go!

Ever so lovely, he giggled against your lips and a sweet smile painted itself on yours

"You did so well Jisung" you started, and he looked up to meet your gaze. "Everyone was watching you with stars in their eyes. You looked so good, heavenly! The song is great, your voice sounded perfect tonight and you gave the audience the greatest show!"

At that, Jisung's nose scrunched up. He had always been shy when being complimented. A slight blush was dusting his cheeks. Because of what exactly, you could not tell ( was it the singing, making out or complimenting? You might never know ). Getting lost in his eyes, you stroked his cheek with the pad of your thumb.

"They love you out there and– I love you, Jisung." you finished.

He kissed you again, gently and placed his hand on top of yours, holding it.

"I love you y/n. I'm yours, always."

You could have stood there forever, gazing into each other's eyes, but Seungmin ran past both of you. It was his turn to go up. He took this opportunity to slap Jisung on the back, hard.

"Can't y'all get back there?! The staff isn't getting paid to watch y'all make out! Spare them." he said, half-laughing half-disgusted.

Jisung's face, which was already blushing quite a bit, suddenly turned bright red and wide eyed. Finally aware of their presence, he profusely apologized to the staff who pretended not to have been watching you until now. You let yourself get pulled towards the waiting room, giggly as ever. All the while, Jisung softly scolded you and you did not listen.

Afterall, all it ever took to shut your boyfriend up was a kiss. And you were definitely planning to make the most out of the time you had left until he was supposed to go back up on stage.

taglist. @l3visbby — let me know if you would like to be added / removed.

© myjisung. please do not copy, translate, repost or claim my work as your own.

#🐈‍⬛ sol writes #stray kids #skz #skz han #stray kids han #han jisung #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x y/n #skz x y/n #stray kids fic #skz fic #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #skz han x reader #han x reader #han x y/n #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids drabbles #skz drabbles #skz felix #skz seungmin #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #skz fanfic #stray kids reactions #skz reactions

[kindasleepywriter]

Bird of Prey - Chapter 6: Tempest

Bird of Prey masterlist. Azriel x Reader.

Chapter summary: Feyre dives into unwanted memories, and Azriel deals with the consequences you have to endure.

Story rating: Mature - Minors DNI

Warnings: Torture, blood, burns, use of the word "half-breed", trauma response. This is a heavy chapter- but balanced with fluff, so much fluff<3

Word count: 5.6k

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The few days spent alone with Lucien had done you a lot of good. Cassian and Nesta weren’t around often, and it was refreshing to finally let your guard down, being able to exhale after centuries of holding your breath. The two of you were barely able to scratch the surface of all that you’d lived in the last two hundred and something years.

He was completely in love with his mate, and you were profoundly grateful that the mother had granted him a reprieve and a circle of people he trusted. Elain seemed like a sweet girl- a good soul that had managed to keep her softness through unending trauma. You’d never tell Lucien that you still didn’t trust her, of course, but you knew he was aware of your ‘hesitancy to accept people’, as he’d called it once.  Over dinners and late-night chats, he’d gone quickly over the rocky beginnings of their relationship- and Azriel’s part in that turbulence- but he reassured you that there was no bad blood, and Azriel had even been to one to finally convince Elain to take a chance on Lucien. You didn’t know how you felt about that information, so you willfully ignored it.

His friends, his band of exiles, as he called them, also seemed like interesting people- especially the firebird. He was excited about the prospect of introducing you to them and, even though you were reticent to meet strangers, there was little you wouldn’t do for him. You could try, at the very least.

Then, there was the elephant in the room. Amarantha. You already knew the gist of what had happened during those fifty years, but he recounted how he had experienced it in Spring, his friends sent to slaughter in the human lands in hopes of ending her reign. He knew you understood what being trapped felt like. You’d offered him the best support you could muster, pushing past your discomfort at the subject.

“Where were you during that time, anyways? How did you hide from that nightmare for five decades?”, Lucien asked, sitting in an armchair to the side of yours where both of you were taking comfort in the crackle of a low fire in the sitting room. “I heard you disappeared during that time. No one heard about any contracts you might’ve taken.”

“Well, I didn’t have the chance to be in Velaris when the curse rose from under the mountain”, you muttered sarcastically, “but I already had so few ties to people. It wasn’t hard to keep track of them and… well. You’re aware of what I do when a messenger decides to let slip important details. They know the consequences signing on.”

Lucien winced. “Did it happen often.?”

“Only once, at the end of the first year. A shopkeeper who thought he might be able to gain Amarantha’s favor by selling me out. I decided not to take any chances after that and I took shelter as far as I could, even hiding in the human lands for a while. Any contracts I could’ve gotten during that time would’ve probably been on her orders, directly or not. I didn’t want to participate in her destruction. I did visit you in spring once or twice over the decades, though. I think I rather prefer you without the mask.”

“You’re not the only one, but I also think not ripping the collars of my shirts while dressing is really the best thing about losing it.”, he chuckled. “I’m glad to hear you weren’t hurt during her reign. She really had an obsession over you, but you never even heard about that, did you?”

You shook your head, confused. You knew she’d have interest in someone with your skillset, but you weren’t exactly well known. You wouldn’t be very good at your job if you left witnesses.

“What did I ever do to piss her off? I’ve never even been close to her for contracts, it’s not like she could’ve had a grudge against me.”

“She didn’t need to know you to resent you- You know your old reputation, Feather, but you’ve got to understand that it’s not just a rumor circulating through the undercities anymore,” he said, “People were clinging on to every hope they could during those decades. The idea of someone who had the power to take down rulers… It caught on like a brushfire.”

“But I wasn’t even there.”

“That’s a detail the common folk didn’t care about.”

“And yet, its still the most crucial one.”, you sighed. “By the mother, they might’ve thought I’d be their savior, but I didn’t talk to a single soul for half a century.”

“Now, that’s one long dry spell, I’ll say that your uptight attitude with the others is so much more unders- ow!”, he yelped as you smacked him in the arm with the book that sat on the table between you.

“If you think me not getting any for a couple years is enough for me to not check your audacity, Kit, I-“

“Now that I think about it, maybe that explains the tension between you and a certain spymaster, I’m sure after so long out there you just can’t- stop it!” Another smack, as he held you at arm’s length to protect himself from any further literary assaults, but he continued undeterred.

“I mean, with the way you’re watching him, I feel like you’re really earning your title of Bir-“ 

You clapped a hand over his mouth, hissing. “Not here!”You had no idea who could be listening in. Using your ‘professional’ name wasn’t the best idea.

He wrenched your arm away from him, laughing. “They’re not going to hurt you. They’re not who you think they are, Feathers. The act they put up before was mostly just that, an act.  I know you heard the rumors, that you-”

Your mind flipped like a switch from amusement to anger, and you shoved him away. Lucien’s face immediately went white at your change in demeanor.

“Heard the rumors, Lucien? I didn’t just hear them, I saw them! I’ll be damned before any of these damn faes fool me into believing their bullshit. The camps, they’re a nightmare.”

You were seething. He knew of your history, and to disregard their actions as mere court gossip felt like a betrayal.

“You don’t know what it’s like to see a little girl’s wings pinned to the town square because she went just a little too far in the forest”, you spat, “women carrying so many bruises that their skin was more purple than skin colored, flinching whenever a door opened!”

A soft voice put an end to your tirade. “I’m sorry you’ve been witness to such a horrible event. These clippings… They’re harrowing.”, the High Lady said, standing in the doorway of the room with her arms loosely folded as she stared at you, pain flashing in her eyes. You hadn’t noticed her, in your anger. Immediately, you stiffened and tried to calm your breathing, but struggled when you heard Lucien let out a breath of relief behind you. You fought every urge to turn around and swing at him. He’d get his verbal beating later. You forced your voice back into neutrality, years of practice aiding you.

“I assume that you disapprove of the practice, then.”, you said, venom still subtly lacing your words despite your efforts.

“Of course, I do.”, she sighed. “We’ve been doing what we can to stop them, I swear that to you, but it’s easier to try and lift a mountain than to convince the Lords watching over the camps.”

You narrowed your eyes, not offering a word. If convincing them was the problem, you thought, then perhaps a change in leadership was needed. Either for those Lords… or higher in the ranks. Still, you felt a certain amount of honesty in her words. Maybe she had a distaste for the practice, but it didn’t mean her entourage did.

She exhaled, noticing your closed off body language. She walked slowly into the room, sparing a glance at Lucien, standing still for a moment before turning back to you. “I was told you asked for me specifically, to hear what you’re willing to share.”

Ah, right. The planned dive into the most intimate part of yourself: your memories. You’d almost forgotten about it, in the comfort of Lucien’s presence. Almost.

Lucien shuffled around you awkwardly, nodding to Feyre as he left the room with haste. If your jaw could clench any harder, you were pretty sure your teeth would have started cracking by now.

“You seemed like the better alternative.”, you said.

“Yes, I know Rhys can be a little much when you meet him for the first time. Trust me, I didn’t like him at first either.”

Mentally, you rolled her eyes. What words were hers, which ones were his, and were any of them truthful? You couldn’t know.

Feyre looked disappointed at your lack of response. If she thought a few niceties would change your mind about her mate, she was wrong.

“Well, we can get started, if you’d like. This will only take a minute.”

You nodded.

She gestured to the velvet couch that sat parallel to the armchairs you and Lucien had occupied, and you sat, keeping a certain distance from her. You felt the fire’s warmth at your side. A cold shiver ran through you despite it.

“What do I need to do, exactly? Do I need to close my eyes, or…”

The truth was that you had no idea how daemati powers worked. You’d had a certain amount of training in the Dawn court against it, but it was always from a position of defense. The instinct to bar anyone from your mind had been drilled into you as a young fae, and the idea of letting someone in was making every nerve in your body recoil. You didn’t want people to see even the most minute emotional reaction, and Feyre would be privy to your entire history and thoughts.

“If you feel like you need to, you may, but it’s not necessary. Just lower your shields and I’ll make sure to keep it as brief as possible. You can go afterwards, but invite you to stay, should you choose too. You’re Lucien’s friend, he’s told us good things about you…”, she said.

You braced yourself for the intrusion, keeping quiet and watching her carefully as you dismantled your barriers, brick by brick. She seemed to abandon the idea of convincing you. You felt the soft scratch of sharp talons against them, figuratively knocking at your door. The feeling was too familiar to Rhysand’s powers, and you couldn’t help but shudder at the thought. You finally made an opening in your stone walls.

Her incorporeal presence started to sort through your mind. You appreciated that she let you see her exploring and that she focused on the relevant parts of your memories. You knew that was a conscious choice on her part and you felt the slightest appreciation for how respectful she was in the situation. You felt a warmth from her as the thought crossed your mind, immediately turning your gratefulness into wariness again.

She started at the most recent events, thankfully skipping your time since you’d arrived in Velaris, and travelled backwards in time. She saw the confrontation with Azriel in the woods, the hunt for the Illyrian spy across Prythian, back to the initial arrangement that had taken place.

You almost felt her shock as she witnessed your messenger transmitting the details of the contract, lingering on it just a moment too long for it to go unnoticed. The story of the young woman and what she suffered, her forced marriage, her destroyed wings. You felt Feyre’s fury run through you as she processed the information. Her emotional state agitated her, so much that some of her memories slipped through.

You could see her discussing with her circle in a large room, a table covered in what seemed to be reports and maps, debating on ways to protect the women in the camps. You saw fragments of her and Rhysand, locked in an embrace in the morning light, whispering about the horror they’d seen, his hold on her tightening as tears ran down her cheeks. You felt like an intruder, these were private conversations, intimate moments, but you couldn’t help but be shocked at the idea that the court really did want to change the camps. Was she the only one pushing for this, or did they listen to her pleas for change? She did hate those clippings, that you were sure of. You let out an exhale of relief, ready to rebuild your barriers.

What you didn’t expect, however, was for her to keep going. You began to struggle as you tried to stack brick after brick, shoving her out, but she was too strong. She wasn’t finished, and you were powerless to stop it, but panic ran through you. You couldn’t tell where her emotions started and when yours ended, if the thoughts running through you were hers, yours, or somebody else’s.

You tried to throw every thought possible at her, stop her descent into your past, but she was too far gone in the trauma of your past. She was getting too close, too deep, and you were shaking through it all.

“Stop.”, you gritted out aloud. “You know I wasn’t here to cause problems, stop going through my fucking past, let me go!”

It was as if she didn’t hear you, but she let out a gasp of shock when she completely bypassed your time in Autumn, flying instead to the one moment you had never shared with anyone like a moth to a flame. Ice ran through your veins. Anything but this, any other memory, you pleaded, but you were met with only growing alarm and dread. You were both engulfed by the weight of your pain.

-

“Dad, please, I didn’t think, I’m sorry!”

You were sobbing, a large weight on your chest as two hands gripped the bone that ran along the top of each of your wings so harshly that you could feel the fingernails drawing blood and ripping out soft dawn feathers. Your full feathers weren’t even completely mature yet, you weren’t even fully grown yet.

“Damn right you didn’t think, you ungrateful little shit. I was clear that you would not come back here.”, the man spit out. “You’re not my daughter, never was. I don’t care that your mother died pretending to have the right to fight. I’m not responsible for a disgusting fucking chicken like you!”

You squinted through the pain at him, his knees digging into your thorax as he held you down. You couldn’t breathe. His stocky frame blocked out the light that filtered through the shut windows, his wings fully extended as you struggled against his hold. His leathery black wings.

“I’ll go right now”, you pleaded, “I’ll never be seen in the night court again, I swear, please, just let me go!”

His hand gripped tighter, a loud cry echoing through your lungs.

“And have Arevos think me weak, letting a few tears from a half-breed like you sway me? Never, not in a million years. You’ll learn the consequences of your actions. You’ll see what happens to lowly women like you who would rather destroy a man’s reputation than know your place.”

He swung a fist at you, dizzying you as you choked on the blood now flowing down your throat. He moved behind you, stepping on you in the process, and started dragging you out the door, grabbing only your wings. You screamed in pain, sobbing uncontrollably as red-hot pain shot through your muscles and back, feathers ripping out and leaving bloody trails as your father stepped through the camp furiously. You clawed at the floor, trying to grip at anything to yank yourself out of his grip, only catching dirt and stones and your fingernails ripping.

He hauled you out to the forest, closely followed by Arevos and a few other legionnaires. They watched, laughing, as Aravos’ son handed your father a blade. Kallon. The only person in this forsaken camp who’d ever spoken to you like a person, now laughing at your torture as if you were only entertainment. The dagger radiated warmth, its metal red from where it had been laying in a nearby campfire. Your crying impossibly grew louder, your pleas ignored as you tried to call for Kallon’s help, tried to bargain, to negotiate, but they didn’t care. They all watched on with vicious smirks as the legionnaires freed your father’s hands and held your wings down for him.

You’d never felt pain like this before. Broken bones, sprained muscles, you were familiar with. This? It didn’t even begin to compare. You felt like it went on for hours, pain drowning out the laughter of the sadists that surrounded you.  You wailed and screamed until your throat wouldn’t let anymore more than pained croaks come out, vocal cords giving up on you as your spirit was crushed by the reality of what was happening. Your wings were who you are, and you knew this might be the last time you’d ever see them.

You prayed to the mother to let you dive into unconsciousness, to grant you the peacefulness of death, but your prayers were useless, and you could picture the goddess spitting at your feet in disgust. You were delirious, still feeling every touch and burn of that dagger as it sliced through your flesh as if you were a slaughtered animal, only worth anything torn apart and freed of your vile skin.

An unspeakable amount of time late, bored of the spectacle that was your murder. They let go of your body and left it on the forest floor, every shred of your body and soul bleeding profusely, meeting with dirt and moss. Fertilizer was all you would ever be, all that you were worthy of. Your breath was barely more than a whisper, a crackle of fire inside your chest. When the dark embraced you, your life draining into the ground along with your silent tears, you only felt gratefulness that your torment was over.

-

Someone was saying your name. It resonated around you despite you barely hearing it, like an echo in a dark cave. You felt the hard floor beneath you, no longer embedded into your grave as distant shouts reached your ears. You were crying, rolled into a fetal position. You were screaming, the crackle of fire and pain ever present within you.

“What the HELL did you do to her, Feyre?”, you heard a deep voice yell.

“I don’t know, I couldn’t stop falling into her memories, it was like I’d fallen through a crack in her mind! I can’t stop seeing it, the torture, the pain…”, a panicked feminine voice replied.

You were still howling like a wounded animal, your eyes closed tightly. A torrent of wind was whipping your face, sharp pain still coursing through your veins, a ghost underneath your skin. You could make out hands slowly lifting you from the ground, startling you into resisting in the darkness, your screaming turning to sobs and pleas of mercy, but cold mist surrounded you, an unknown familiarity only barely making a dent in calming you. You were shaking uncontrollably from your sobs, the pain fainter than it had been moments ago.

“Shh, it’s okay Dove”, a voice whispered to you, even though it still seemed so distant from you, muted in the roaring consuming your mind. “You’re safe, they can’t get you here. You can breathe.”

You couldn’t stop your sobs. It was if every emotion you’d ever felt, ever suppressed were rushing out of you all at once. You were drowning beneath the waves. Firm hands traced circles on your back, and a softer wind laid on your skin like a blanket. Your hands gripped the thin fabric that you felt brush against your fingers. The warm voice kept murmuring, soothing you.

You could only lay there helpless against the never-ending agony as you cried.

-

When you came to again, it was to the sound of voices again. A soft touch was running over your back.

“She destroyed the sitting room; we can’t let her stay here.”

“Maybe if Feyre hadn’t gone looking in places she shouldn’t have, it could’ve been prevented.” You felt deep vibrations against your cheek.

“Watch it, you’re clearly too invested in her to-”

“Rhys, let him be.” A feminine voice, this time. “What matters here is how she even managed to summon that storm. We didn’t even feel any power from her and then this happens… I showed Mor, and she said it was exactly like the one I’d made before she saved me from Tamlin’s manor. We can’t just-”

You couldn’t help a whimper from leaving you from the tension the room, your hands flat against the same fabric as before. You felt exhaustion down to every single bone in your body. The surface against which you laid shifted, the warm circles stopping for just a moment.

“Az… We’ll come back later, but we need to meet whenever possible. We haven’t told Lucien yet, he’s with Elain at their cottage, but I won’t be able to hold keep in the dark for long, and we all know he’ll freak out.”

“Just let me handle it for now, Rhys.”

You felt the sun harshly against your eyelids and back as you gained more awareness and tried to blink the sleep out of your eyes to grasp your surroundings. You stretched out your legs a little, the hand on your back tightening and keeping you from going too far. Your eyes got used to the light, and you became aware of the body underneath your hands. You squinted and looked up at Azriel, sighing. He was watching you like a hawk, worry written all over his face.

Wait. Azriel?

You yelped and jumped out of his hold, almost toppling over the side of the bed from the force of your wings snapping shut, Azriel’s hands stopping you from falling face first of the ground by gripping your waist and lifting you up into a sitting position in front of him.

Your eyes widened as you scampered to the foot of the bed away from him, your brain still in a fog of exhaustion that confused your senses and your heart beating like a hummingbird’s. How did you end up here?

“What- What happened?”, you said, agitated and too tired to wrangle your demeanor into calculated cold.

“Feyre didn’t have the decency to keep her curiosity under control when she paid a little visit to your memories, that’s what happened.”, he grumbled, still watching you as if he feared you’d run for the door at any moment.

His fear wasn’t unfounded. You were considering the option, still freaking out a little over the proximity you two had shared.

You looked around yourself, finally realizing that the two of you were in the bedroom you’d been staying in, a book still open face down on the other side of the bed just like you’d left it to talk to Lucien. You could faintly remember talking to Feyre, the relief you’d felt… And then the terror. It all came rushing back and you curled against yourself. Shadows wrapped around your ankles and legs softly, cooling your now overheated skin.

“She saw… she saw everything, didn’t she?”, you said, your voice cracking. Your eyes filled with tears again.

“She only saw the worst of it. She didn’t elaborate much, but I think we all understood what she’d seen.” His hands were clenched into fists, knuckles white, and he immediately relaxed them when he caught you looking. You studied his hands, the scarred skin. It looked just like the scars you carried from the torture your father had put you through.

“If it means anything”, he continued, “I truly am sorry that happened to you. It’s something you should never have gone through. To know that Arevos had a part to play in it too… We’ll deal with him.”

You looked up from his hands, a question dawning on you. “Did you… Did you see my wings?”

He shook his head. “Only the backside of them, they relaxed when you fell asleep. I was careful not to let you on your back, I didn’t want you to injure them.”

You let out a shaky breath of relief, whispering your thanks. He could’ve easily used the opportunity to examine the mess of scars that laid there, along with the only clear sign of your Illyrian heritage. Hints of it were everywhere, from the softer tip of your ear, your more angular wings, and the above-average length of their terminal bones, but you could pass as full-blooded Peregryn.  You still had the typical hollow bones, the eye color and skin tone of their people.

What stood out, however, was only visible when you fully extended your wings. The soft dawn that protected the base of your flight feathers wasn’t the pure, untainted white or vibrant gold of your comrades. Instead, the light feathers emerged from midnight-black tufts that lined the skin. Only in flight could it been truly seen, but it was enough to mark you as the one thing the population of the Dawn court hated most: A half-breed, specifically one whose father was a disgusting Illyrian.

 Azriel could’ve easily just lifted your wing and looked, and you would’ve never known. Yet, he didn’t. Your heart warmed a little from its current apathy.

“Am I cleared, then? Free to go?”

His face dropped from aggravation to something akin to... nervousness? “We know you can be trusted if that’s what you’re wondering. Feyre left you the choice of leaving, so you weren’t forced to exit the court after what happened. There’s something else you need to know before you go though, and it’s got the others worried.”

You frowned. You were less eager to depart from Velaris than you thought you’d be, but your freedom was your priority. You didn’t want another reason for them not to let you go.

“When you were reliving the memory, something peculiar happened. I don’t think Feyre was expecting it, given the look on her face when I flew in. You may have… whipped up a storm in the sitting room. More precisely, you summoned one.”

“That’s impossible. I don’t have powers.”, you stated, confused. Was this his idea of a prank? If so, it was needlessly cruel.

He hesitated, clearly considering his next words carefully. “We thought that too, but you really did create it. It was your energy, even if it didn’t feel as clear as it should. You used it like a shield surrounding you. Feyre couldn’t even get close to you.”

Shock coursed through you. You’d never shown any signs of power, much to the dismay of your parents. You’d always been the disappointment. The result of the union of one of the greatest Illyrian warriors and a commander of the Dawn court was expected to be of great power, even if considered as lesser than. It became clear quickly as you grew that you weren’t, and unable to use what little you had of it. You could fight, sure, but power? Not a chance.

“I spent the first 18 years of my life being tested relentlessly in every manner known to man.”, you said. “How is this even possible?”

“We’re not exactly sure, but the theory so far is that Feyre may have unlocked your capabilities when she went digging through your mind. Quite violently too, given the state of the room.”, he nervously laughed. “It wasn’t the first time this happened, either.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that the other day, you left a burn so deep in the doorknob of the study that I’m surprised it didn’t catch fire.”

The study? Oh. That study. Your face flushed. Knowing what you did now, you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed by your reaction.

“I’m sorry.”, you whispered.

Azriel almost growled as he got closer to you, reaching out a hand to lay on your crossed knees. “You have nothing to apologize for. I should’ve known better. God I…” He paused, rubbing a hand over his face. “I can’t begin to imagine how it felt, you had every right to end it there. I’m just grateful it was the door, not me.”

You looked up at him. His hand still covered his face, and he was stiff as a board.

You considered silently your next move. You were still exhausted, and you definitely weren’t thinking right, but you were just so tired of always pretending. Always keeping up a cold front, always distancing yourself from any who dared approach you. Since you’d met him, you’d been nothing but cruel to him. All of this for your false impression of the rulers of the Night court, and a single insult from centuries ago. Your heart was screaming at you to say something, do anything other than shut yourself off. For once, you listened.

“Look, Azriel, I… I’m not sure how I feel right now, I’m lost, and I can’t make sense of anything.” You gently laid a hand over the one that covered your knee.  “What I do know is that we clearly started off with misconceptions about each other.”

His eyes snapped to yours, lowering his hand. “I think we agree on that.”, he chuckled dryly, the hold on your knee tightening slightly before letting go. His shadows retreated from you abruptly, as if forced to. He abruptly stood up and started pacing with his back turned to you. His fists were clenched again. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable here. I feel like I’ve imposed enough.”, he said. “I’m the one who dragged you here, threatening you with torture or mind-breaking, and it was so wrong to force myself on you then and now keeping you here with me, you’ve got enough going on as is, and I should ask Lucien to come up here to stay with you, he’s the one who you feel comfortable with-”

His breath stuttered as you threaded your arms around his ribcage after you’d silently tip-toed over to his position. You were careful not to touch his wings and you laid your cheek against his back. You felt him shudder as his arms captured yours at his front, his head dropping. The heat of him didn’t help your drowsy state but his shadows reached out tentatively and encircled you again when a sigh of contentment escaped you.

You couldn’t say why you trusted this man. You didn’t have many memories together, especially positive ones, but something in him drawn you to him like a siren would a ship. You knew there was more to him than he let others see, and your own shattered self resonated with his.

“I don’t agree, Az.”, you whispered softly. He hummed in dissent, but you just gripped him tighter. “If I’d wanted you out of here you would’ve known. I quite remember my knee doing some damage last time you hurt me.”

He laughed, startled, the vibrations coursing up your arms.

“I don’t need to start wearing special armor around you, then?”, he said.

“Not yet, no.”

A moment of silence, the two of you wrapped around each other, unmoving in the sunlit room.

“I meant it when I thanked you.”, you finally said. “For staying with me last night, for getting me out of there in the first place. For letting me fall apart.”

“I couldn’t leave you there.”, he breathed. “I felt the bargain disappear and then I heard your screams from miles away. I thought- I don’t know what I thought. I raced here as felt as I could.”

You bowed your head, even though you knew he couldn’t see you. You were starting to feel faint. Using your newfound powers apparently took a lot more energy than you’d assumed. You really needed to sleep.

Your grip on his ribs loosened as you tried to take a step backwards. Your legs failed beneath you, but Azriel, always as fast as a falcon, stopped your fall and held you up against his chest. You gazed up as his hazel eyes, lingering on his perfect skin and his soft lips for a second. A few curled strands were separated from the rest, and you softly passed your fingers through his hair, unsuccessful in your attempt to tame them. His stare was warm, and he gave you a small smile, not commenting on your unashamed appreciation of his features. You could’ve kept watching him for hours.

“I think I might need to rest a few minutes before we talk more.”

“You’ll be lucky if you’re awake within that day.”, Azriel sighed. He lifted you softly onto the bed, as if to lay you down and leave. You didn’t let him go.

“Stay. Please.”, you croaked, looking up at him. His hair was still all over the place, his frame highlighted by the sweater he wore. He looked beautiful, exhausted as he may be. The sun created a halo of light around him. An angel, you thought.

 He sat down on the bed, keeping you close as you grabbed his shoulders to pull yourself up to lay against his chest, your face buried in his neck, breathing in the smell of cedar and mist that always surrounded him. He chuckled at your tight grip.

“I’ll be here when you wake up, Dove. Take the time you need.”

You fell asleep to the sound of his breath and to the rhythm of his heart, drumming slowly alongside yours.

Banner created by the amazing @saradika!

Taglist: @sapphenaa

#azriel x reader #azriel #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar fanfic #azriel fanfic #azriel POV #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #enemies to lovers #bird of prey

[mintelepathy]

“Keep it, it looks better on you anyway”

brother's best friend jungkook

genre: fluff and some sexual tension from jungkook riding a motorcycle

word count: 1.2k

summary: a night out with your friends goes wrong and your brother's bestfriend ends up giving you a ride on his motorcycle

part 2

mlist

Come to the party, it'll be fun, your best friend said almost three hours ago. Maybe that could have been the case if it wasn't for the fact that you lost said friend the second you went through the door, were left alone for thirty minutes until the police showed up, so now you were trying to run away and hide from the authorities because the last thing you need right now is being taken to the police station.

To make things worse, you had no idea where you were, there is no sight of anyone who can give you a ride. It seems like everyone else just vanished, and your phone is nowhere to be found, just great.

You have been walking for about ten minutes when you heard someone with a motorbike approaching and slowing down to keep your pace at a safe distance.

“Hey _!” someone shouted your name and you turned your head to the familiar voice at your side.

“Jungkook?” you asked confused because you couldn’t see him well with the helmet on.

He made his way towards you, stopped in front of your now stilled body, took off his helmet, and yes, there he was.

Jungkook is no stranger to you, but you wouldn’t consider him a close friend either, he is your brother’s best friend so you are used to seeing him at your brother’s when you go visit him, which is quite often since you have a loving sister and older brother’s relationship with him. You two were inseparable as kids but then years passed, and you moved to Seattle for your studies while he stayed in Preston, where you grew up.

But back to Jungkook, you can’t deny the man’s beauty, you may even admit you had a little crush on him when you met him four years ago, but then you realized you had zero chance when your brother mentioned that he had a girlfriend. A girlfriend you never met though.

As far as you knew Jungkook was still living in Preston too, so what was he doing there?

“The one and only,” he said as he gave you one of his close-mouthed smiles. Damn, how can someone be so hot and cute at the same time? Ok, shut up conscience.

“What are you doing here?” you asked him as you smile at him too, seems like it is contagious.

“I live here” he might have noticed the confusion on your face because then he added, “We are in Preston _”

“No way! seriously?” you asked him while moving your head like crazy trying to understand why you didn’t find the place familiar since you grew up there, “Well, that explains why it took us a while to get here, I swear I’m not drunk I just didn’t pay attention in our way here”

“Believe me, I know you are not drunk” he let out a cute chuckle, “come here, let’s get out of here” he said as he motioned you to get behind him on the motorbike.

You doubted for a second because you had so many questions, but it was a late and cold night, and honestly, you wouldn’t mind the company and the free ride.

“Put this on, you’ll need it” he said as he took off his jacket and handed it to you, “this too” then he handed his helmet.

“Oh no, you need it” he had already given you his jacket and now he wants to give you the only helmet he has, maybe it is the bare minimum but these little details really warm your heart.

“Just take it, please” the expression on his face said it all, there was no way he would let you go on a ride without the helmet, so it was useless to fight him.

You put the helmet on, and tried to clip it but you just couldn’t.

You were just embarrassing yourself at this point.

“Let me” he gently moved your hair out of the way and helped you.

For some reason, you couldn’t take your eyes off his face while he clipped the helmet for you. Ok, you admit it, maybe you still have a little crush on him, “Ready, hop on now and hold on tight” He didn’t have to ask you twice, you would do anything the man said, if something was sure it was that you could trust a hundred percent in him.

You hopped on the motorbike, and hold him hesitantly by the waist. He didn’t say anything, he just grabbed your hands and place them well around his waist, your torso completely pressed to his back.

Your heart might have just jumped a little.

“Don’t let go, ok?” you just nodded.

He turned the engine on and started riding. You had no idea where he was going but you couldn’t care less.

It was your first time on a motorbike and you would have never thought how much you’ll love the feeling of being in one, twenty-five minutes passed, maybe thirty, you had no idea, but you didn’t want him to stop. The cold air hitting your body had never felt better.

You noticed where you were once you felt him slow down, you were in Seattle.

Jungkook had just ridden all the way just to bring you home.

“I’m gonna need you to be my GPS now _” he said as he placed one of his hands on top of yours, “your hands are freezing”  

“I don’t really feel them so it’s okay” you joked and you felt his torso move as he laughed, keeping his hand there and just removing it when necessary.

You guided him to your apartment and arrived in five minutes. You still couldn’t believe he had just brought you home from Preston.

He stopped the motorbike and you both hopped off carefully.

He gestured for you to get closer and help you again with the helmet.

“This is insane, you just wasted like forty minutes of your time just to bring me home, I don’t even know what time is it, probably really late, so thank you” you gave him a quick hug, “Oh take this”

He stopped you the moment you started taking his jacket off, “Keep it, it looks better on you anyway”

What’s that sudden heat in your cheeks? Were you blushing? Oh please, no.

You gave a few steps back as you bite your lip unconsciously.

“So, do you have to go anywhere else now?” you asked him, not wanting him to leave.

“Nowhere specifically, probably find a gas station first if I’ll go back home” you watched his Adam’s apple move as he swallowed hard. Was he nervous? Why would he be nervous? you asked yourself.

You can’t believe you are about to ask him these, geez he has a girlfriend, you and your impulsive thoughts, “Do you- Do you want to stay the night? It’s late and you are probably tired, it was a long ride and it’s cold. We could drink some hot coffee if you want”

Oh no, you didn’t like that look on his face.

Jungkook hesitated for a second, not because he didn’t want to stay, but because he remembered a little detail, he likes you, and you are his best friend’s sister, what would he think if he knew that he spent the night with you?

He noticed the worry on your face and before you could say anything he thought fuck it, “Yeah, sure, if you don’t mind”

If he only knew…

♡

I'm thinking of making a second part for this so let me know what you think yay (and if you want to be tagged)

Ooookkk, it's been so long since I logged in on this account and I'm back, I realized today how much I missed it so you'll probably see me posting more often😊

A like or reblog is always appreciated<3

#bts #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fluff #jungkook #jungkook scenarios #bts jungkook #jungkook drabbles #jungkook imagines #jungkook fic #jungkook blurb #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #bts angst #bts smut #bts drabbles #namjoon scenarios #seokjin scenarios #yoongi scenarios #hoseok scenarios #jimin scenarios #taehyung scenarios #jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc #jungkook x y/n

[shybunnie20]

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader x Bff!Robin Buckley

★My Masterlist

Summary: Your relationship with Eddie isn't what it used to be. Things take a turn for the worse and he faces the fragility of life when you're left at death's doorstep.

Author's Note: This is the longest one shot I've written so far. I worked on this for two months, so please let me know if you enjoy it! Be sure to reblog, follow, and show some love ♡

Author's Note Cont.: Established relationship. AU with no Upside Down. No use of Y/N. Predominantly angst but has fluffy moments. Bittersweet ending! PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS

Word count: 6.6k

Warnings: Descriptions of physical trauma (of the reader). Heartache, arguing, Eddie being a crybaby, includes swearing.

tags: @protecteddiemunson4vr

Initially, you were on the fence about moving in with Eddie, it was his childhood home after all. You were worried about imposing and it’s nerve-wracking to officially combine your life with someone else’s.

Wayne assured you that he was happy to leave the trailer to the two of you so that you and Eddie could pursue your lives together. You were considered a part of his family and he knew you’d take good care of his nephew; he expected Eddie to look after you just the same.

Once you had agreed to make the transition, Eddie had to learn to accommodate your needs in the confined space he’d previously shared with his uncle.

You folded your arms and took in the cluttered bedroom. “Can we please take some of these posters down?”

Eddie feigned annoyance with a throaty groan, but beneath it, he was eager to appease you. “Fine, but the Corroded Coffin banner stays up.” With a devilish smile, he pulled you into his embrace.

The unnecessarily secure hug caused a strained giggle to escape you. “Eddieee! That’s too tight!”

He chuckled amusedly and loosened his grip. After nestling his nose into your hair, he hummed with contentment. “This is your castle now, princess.” He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head and sighed. “Someday I’m gonna get you a big house with a yard and I’m gonna do whatever it takes to make it happen.”

You smiled and buried your face into his neck. “My home is wherever you are. If we grow old together in this tin can then so be it.”

That was well over a year ago and things are far from how they were. The air, once saccharine, has a sour aftertaste that has failed to melt away as you’d hoped.

Eddie is making every effort to juggle his responsibilities. He plays twice a week at The Hideout with his band, which means frequent late-night practice sessions. Despite being a Hawkins High alumnus, he remains the Hellfire Club Dungeon Master. In addition, he works extended shifts at the auto shop. More often than not, they need all hands on deck, being that it’s the only one in town.

Due to his demanding schedule, you don’t see him much anymore. There’s always something that he has to tend to. By telling yourself that his absence isn’t personal, you’re unknowingly making excuses for your boyfriend’s inability to make time for you.

Each day, Eddie wakes up at the crack of dawn to get ready for work. If you’re lucky, he’ll place a brief kiss on your forehead while you’re tucked under the shabby blankets; not even awake to savor the gesture of waning affection. Most nights, you’re exactly where he saw you last. Fast asleep and worn out from your own job and keeping the mobile home tidy.

The lack of physical intimacy has Eddie feeling rather unsatisfied. On a few occasions, he slipped into bed beside you and his hands searched your body in the dark. It was low to be copping a feel but his self-restraint had been whittled down from exhaustion. You’d pushed his hand away and mumbled in semi-cognizant disinterest. Left rejected and frustrated, Eddie’s hurt feelings have brought on a distant shift in his demeanor. His internal thunder matches the rumble of your own.

At this rate, you’re merely coexisting with one another. Hardly so, given that he’s rarely home. You’ve been nothing but patient and supportive of his copious passions. Truly, you’re glad that Eddie has these things in his life that make him feel fulfilled, you just wish that you were still one of them.

There’s a good chance that communicating will resolve the strain, but you can’t bring yourself to speak up. It’s pathetic to beg for his undivided attention. Thinking that you could tough it out, you’ve broken your own heart by waiting for him to realize how lonesome you’ve been.

Instead of counting sheep, you lay and wonder if it's fate that the two of you have grown apart. Regardless of kismet interpretations, it’s debilitating to continue a masquerade of pretending that this isn’t torturous. You’ve killed a part of yourself to keep this love afloat with no lifeboats in sight.

This relationship is more than its worst moments but you’ve exhausted the idea that this is simply a rough patch. A day where anything changes for the better remains a pipe dream.

You’ve bid farewell to the little moments that once meant so much. Light years ago, Eddie couldn’t bear to have you out of his arms for more than a few minutes. He'd wrap his arms around your waist and whisper sweet nothings in your ear while you washed dishes at the kitchen sink. He would pull you closer by the belt loops of your jeans to kiss you with fervor after just a few short hours apart. At the time, hours felt like an eternity.

It stings, feeling that you’re not missed. Or at least not missed enough for him to make an effort to be home more. You’ve stopped looking for reasons to stay because he hasn’t given you any. But for the sake of it, you give him one last chance.

Eddie pinky promised he’d be home for dinner tonight. With renewed optimism, you whip up his favorite comfort foods. It feels odd to be cooking after countless weeks of takeout leftovers. You’ve gotten so used to gnawing on cold pizza that eating has lost its significance.

After swiping on a little makeup, you slip into an outfit that’s a step up from your usual sweatpants and t-shirt. The uneasy feeling in your gut bears a striking similarity to how you felt the night of your first date with Eddie. The inexplicable desire to impress him is undeniable. Maybe if you look pretty enough, he’ll remember that you still exist. Ultimately, how the evening goes will determine where you belong. Whether it be in his life or elsewhere. You’re sincerely coveting the former.

Eddie swore on being home by six sharp. Even so, the steam rising off of the hand-cooked meal dissipates as it grows cold. You take a final glance at your watch and concede defeat at the forty-five-minute mark of his tardiness. As much as you hate to admit it, you should’ve known better than to trust that he’d show.

Time has always had a way of throwing it all in your face, but it never fails to wreck you. Just like the days that led to this one, the sun came up and went down. You can’t discern whether it’s what Eddie did or didn’t do. If it was the lack of effort or the intentional cold shoulder. At the end of the day, all of the love is still there but it serves no purpose now.

The chair creaks as you get to your feet. You step into the kitchen and refill your drinking glass at the sink, promptly gulping down the milk-tinted water as a placeholder for the meal you didn’t have. Your skull acts as a cauldron for the boiling hurt and it bubbles to a feverish froth. Before you can stop yourself, you chuck the glass down onto the worn linoleum and jagged shards scatter across the floor. Along with it, you fall to pieces. Your back slams against the cupboard as you slide down until your tailbone meets the floor.

At fifteen minutes to ten, the trailer door slams closed with a thud. Eddie toes off his grimy work boots and notices the romantic setting for two, the plates entirely untouched. It’s immediately evident to him that you went out of your way to put together a special evening that is well past expired.

Eddie’s gaze then finds the broken glass. He inhales sharply and concern coats his lungs. He heads down the hall toward the light emitting from the bedroom and calls out. “My bad for being late, I was-” Eddie reaches the doorway and his sentence drops off when he sees you haphazardly shoving clothes into a duffel bag. “What’re you doing?” He asks, his voice sewn tightly with puzzlement.

Mutely tugging open the top drawer of the dresser, you grab a fistful of socks and underwear and tuck it into the bag. Eddie used to be able to finish your sentences, but tonight you’ll be finishing his. You’re already anticipating the bullshit justifications that you’ve heard time and time again.

Eddie becomes frustrated with being blatantly ignored. When you shift to step past him, he blocks the doorway by extending his arm. “I’m talking to you. Where are you going?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.” You look into his hardened eyes, your own marbled with inflamed crimson veins. “But there’s no way I’m staying here.”

There’s a throbbing in his ribcage at the sight of how visibly saddened you are. Finally being confronted with the consequences of his actions, Eddie swallows hard. “You can’t be serious.” 

“Does it look like I’m joking?” Your icy stare falters with the release of a shaky exhale. “I'm done waiting around for you.” Eddie’s expression only adds insult to injury, the fucking nerve of him to play dumb right now.

He throws his head back and scoffs, “Give me a break, I didn’t mean to be late! I was the only one closing tonight.”

Unconvinced, you mutter, “Uh huh,” while ducking beneath his blockading limb.

Eddie scoffs louder this time. “Okay, I see how it is. You think I’m lying.”

You don’t care if he’s telling the truth or not. Even with all of the space that’s amassed between the two of you, there’s no room for honesty. Eddie continues to prod while you rummage through the bathroom drawers gathering necessities.

The beat of your heart thumps wildly in your ears. All the while, your bones have caught a fever, and the fire in your chest spreads, charring your throat as the flames continue to climb. The blistering smoke irritates the backs of your eyes, causing tears to reform and your nose to run.

Eddie makes a sound of artificial amusement and it reverberates off of the shallow walls as he follows you to the living room. “Convincing performance, babe. You’re really sellin’ it, but you can put the bag down now, alright? I get it. I learned my lesson.”

While putting on your shoes you swallow a whimper. Your backbone is coming apart at the seams, but you refuse to express how distraught you truly are.

Folding his arms across his chest, Eddie continues. “Are you seriously making this big of a deal over one missed dinner?”

You stand and take a step toward him, accusingly pressing your pointer finger to his chest. Applying enough pressure that your nail leaves an indentation. “If you think this is because of one dinner, you’re fucking delusional.”

The hinges on the front door squeal as you push it open and walk outside. For far too long all you’d wanted was him, but now being in the same room is unbearable.

Eddie treads on your heels, descending the concrete steps out into the ill-lit trailer park. “Can you not be so overdramatic for once in your life? This is ridiculous. C’mon, let’s just go back inside and talk it out.” 

“There’s nothing to talk about.” You growl while jamming the keys into the door of your car and tossing the duffel bag onto the passenger seat. It’s not improbable that if he begged you right now, you’d give in. Part of you is relieved that he isn’t on his knees because you’d never be able to walk away otherwise. Without sparing another glance in his direction, you reverse and steer out of the trailer park.

Cemented in place, Eddie’s socked feet press into the rocky gravel. The lights from the neighboring mobile homes flare like lasers as tears deluge his vision. The utter disbelief that you’re leaving him causes a surge of nausea to churn in his abdomen. What the hell just happened?

As luck would have it, Robin answers when you ring her doorbell. “Hey! Oh- you look like shit.”

Your shoulders slump with the bow of your head, feeling just as shitty as you look. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Errr, sorry. Come on in.” Robin insists, stepping aside for you to enter her home.

The two of you plop down on her living room couch and share a short-lived silence before unpacking the evening’s sequence of events. To the best of her ability, Robin digests your nonsensical blubbering about how you didn’t want to ask Eddie to give up the things he loved.

Half a box of tissues later, you’ve calmed some. “I feel like such a fucking idiot.” You sniffle and fiddle with a loose thread on your sleeve. “Y’know, I can’t even remember the last time we showered together. He treats me like a roommate. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he isn’t in love with me anymore.”

Robin frowns. “I don’t blame you. I’m sorry that you’re going through this.” She takes your hand in hers and squeezes it reassuringly.

Shortly after you’d left Forest Hills, Eddie did the same. He figured taking a joy ride down the streets of Hawkins could help clear his conscience. With heavy metal crackling from the stereo, he drives down the sparsely illuminated avenues. In an attempt to escape from his bleeding reality, he focuses on the beat of the music; tapping the steering wheel with his sterling silver-adorned digits.

This is the worst fight you and Eddie have ever had. Sure, there have been trivial arguments over him leaving water on the bathroom floor after taking a shower. Not to mention, Eddie was particularly explosive about you misplacing his belongings while cleaning the trailer. However, it has never gotten heated to the extent that either of you stormed off.

As much as you appreciate Robin’s hospitality, you feel that you’ve overstayed your welcome. Especially since she has to work in the morning. On your way out, you hug her firmly to convey your gratitude. “Thanks for being such a good friend, Robin. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Robin rests her arms on the car door as you settle behind the wheel. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”

With a nod, you force a grin as a semblance of emotional stability. “I’m a big girl, I’ll be alright.”

“Yeah, but still. At least let me know when you get to the motel.” With a sympathetic expression, Robin pushes the door closed and watches as you back out of the driveway. 

Truthfully you would rather stay at Robin’s place than at a crusty motel, but you can’t bring yourself to burden her with your hardships. The radio hisses with a channel teasing to stick. A faint melody fades in and out of the static as you concentratedly twist the tuning dial to find the sweet spot. While preoccupied, you fail to notice that you’re driving through a four-way intersection.

Glass rains down like hail when the driver’s side door is struck. The echo of skidding tires halts as your vehicle comes to a complete stop, the passenger side crushed inward by the thick trunk of a tree. The other driver stumbles out into the street, disorientated by whiplash. They frantically shout for help and flag down a car that pulls up to the intersection.

It’s not long before the accident is encircled by emergency responders. Dismal gray columns of smoke lift into the air as the engine’s inferno heats the mangled steel frame that cages your scathed body.

Meanwhile, Eddie ventures to decompress at the private spot he used to frequent with his trusty lighter and a single lazily rolled joint. As he turns the corner of Highland and Chestnut, he’s taken aback by the twirling red and blue streams of light.

The firemen work skillfully to free you from the burning structure. Secured by your seatbelt, you’re slumped forward in your seat; your chin digging into your clavicle. The blaze roaring just inches away caresses you, leaving fiery kisses across your skin. Even so, the warmth gradually drains from your complexion as you begin to sink into the earth to lie forever. Death coaxes you with its enticingly bitter embrace and you're lured beyond control.

Eddie’s van slows as he drives past the scene. The catastrophic sight is unsettling but he can’t take his eyes off of the sparks from the jaws of life that cut the driver’s side door from the frame. It’s far too dark to make out what models of cars are involved.

By the looks of it, there’s a slim chance that whoever is being pulled from the vehicle will survive. There’s a morbid sense of comfort in knowing that he’s not the only one having an awful night. More than anything, he’s glad it’s not him who got into an accident.

Lakeside with the doors wide open, Eddie lies in the back of his van. He drags an ample hit from the joint, striving to cloud away the image of the ecstatic look you gave him when he’d assured you that he would be home on time. Eddie hasn’t seen you that excited in longer than he can remember. He wonders how this evening would’ve gone if he’d kept his word.

The argument replays, and it’s the frailty in your voice that’s penetrating deep into his memory. Eddie convinces himself that it was just a bad fight because that’s what couples do. You’ll come back in a day or so, you’ll hug and make up, and your lives will go back to normal.

Except that‘s exactly what got him into this situation. Things cannot go back to how they were, he has to do better. You deserve to be prioritized and he realizes that now.

Rattling fills the ambulance as it speeds over fragmented pavement caused by the most recent blackberry winter. Strapped on the gurney, you lie motionless. Catatonic, in essence, you're wading in and out of consciousness. Even though your eyes are practically swollen shut, you can see. Though, it’s like looking out of a frosted window. A pearlescent film alters the clarity and runs red due to the blood trickling down from the gash in your eyebrow.

The gurney wheels wobble as you’re rushed down the corridors of the hospital, lungs struggling for air as the bag valve mask offers little assistance to your labored breathing. Under the knife, the surgeons struggle to contain the internal bleeding and operate tirelessly to keep you alive.

After smoking himself as numb as physically possible, Eddie glances at his watch which indicates that it’s half past midnight. He zones out during the drive home and focuses on the painted white dashes that repeatedly disappear under his van. Once he stumbles back into the trailer, it feels exceptionally vacant and the silence is deafening.

Be that as it may, he’s bone-weary from the weed and the strenuous shift at work. Ultimately, he decides he’ll go to bed and deal with his emotions tomorrow. It’s probably for the best since he tends to make poor choices when he’s overtired.

Eddie shucks off the layers of denim and leaves them in a jumbled pile on the floor. His high has broken sooner than he preferred, which makes it difficult to doze off. For a while he tosses and turns on his side of the bed, respecting that the other side still belongs to you.

He listens to the sounds that he’d forgotten about. The crickets outside the window chirping like an off-tempo symphony, the buzzing of the outdated refrigerator in the kitchen, and dogs barking off in the distance. All of the sounds blend to create a foreign cradlesong, lulling him into the twilight of his mind. Your steady breathing is the lullaby he longs for. Shortly after his restless adjusting, exhaustion overtakes him.

Post-operation, the humming machine beside you controls respiration as you lie in the hospital bed. The cocktail of painkillers in your system has buried you into the bottomless oblivion of unconsciousness. Cessation of internal bleeding is a miracle in itself, but being put in a medically induced coma isn’t exactly a triumph.

Due to having broken ribs, the expansion of your chest is feeble. In order to ensure that you remain stable, the medical staff keeps a close eye.

The sun has long since climbed the horizon. Eddie sleeps well past noon due to his body taking the time it required to achieve a relatively homeostatic state. Last night, he was supposed to have an intimate dinner, make love to you, and wake up with you wrapped in his arms. Instead, he was tormented by the fact that not only failed you but his uncle as well. He was raised better than to take your love for granted.

Eddie finds his hands searching for the comfort of your warmth, only to be met with chilled bedsheets. Given that you didn’t come home, he’s quick to remember the unsteadiness he saw in your eyes. Eddie caught a glimpse of the exposed nerve that was worn down to the point of you giving up on him, and he hates himself for it.

He feels vexed that you didn’t express how you’d been feeling. Regardless, he should’ve known damn well that he was running the risk of losing you. Eddie has to figure out where you wound up and think of a way to make things right. One thing is for sure, Eddie refuses to go a single day without you.

After getting out of bed, he pulls on a questionably clean outfit plucked from a heap on the floor. Hell, it passes the sniff test. Correctly assuming that you went to Robin’s after the fight, Eddie snags his keys off of the kitchen counter and sets out to locate you.

When he arrives at Robin’s place, he’s met with an empty driveway. A tinge of worry casts a shadow but Eddie fights off the pessimistic thoughts that pelt him like an air raid. Without stopping, he drives to Family Video. Eddie suspects that Robin is at work if her car isn’t at home, but that leaves your car unaccounted for.

Distracted by the cyclone of desperation stirring powerfully within him, Eddie nearly trips when he hops out of his van. He strides through the double doors and leans his forearms against the front counter.

Robin appears from the back room having been beckoned by the door chime. She stops in her tracks and a bewildered expression forms on her freckled face.

“What’s that look for?” Eddie asks regarding her strong reaction to his presence.

“Uh- nothing.” She resumes her path to the counter and sits in front of the computer. Her fingers clack away on the keyboard to log returns into the system.

Eddie rubs the back of his neck and shifts his focus to a scuff on the surface of the countertop. “I think it’s safe to assume you’re already aware of what went down.” He pauses to take a deep breath. “She stayed with you last night, right?” If Eddie knows anything about you, it's how much you confide in your best friend. It’s a fair assumption, given that’s precisely where you went.

“No, she didn’t,” Robin says snappily, baffled by how inappropriately relaxed he’s acting right now. What is he even doing here?

Eddie’s brows furrow and he raises his head to look at her. “What do you mean no? Where’d she go then?”

Robin stops typing to look at him. “Wh- Do you not know?” When she learned of your incapacitation, she thought that surely Eddie had already found out.

His posture goes rigid as he straightens from his leaning position. That’s not a sentence that ever leads to promising news.

Swiveling on the stool, Robin cocks her head in disbelief at the lost look on Eddie’s face. “She’s in the ICU.”

Blood rushes to Eddie's head and his ears begin to ring like a pipe bomb just went off in the video store. “What? Where’d you get that idea?”

“I guess she had me listed as her emergency contact, I got the call this morning.”

Eddie shouts vehemently, “And you didn’t think to tell me that?!”

Robin raises her hands defensively. “I thought you knew!”

Already having spun around, Eddie dashes through the doors and hops back into his van. Going twenty miles per hour over the legal limit, he speeds down the drabby roads of Hawkins. Luckily he finds an open parking spot in the crowded lot of the hospital.

Following the wall directory that indicates where the intensive care unit is located, Eddie runs faster than he thought he was capable of. He conquers the lengthy stairwells thanks to the adrenaline pumping through his veins. His eyes scan his surroundings while he blindly navigates the polished hallways.

Eddie fails to heed the “medical personnel only” sign and barges into the unit. A voice calls out for security and addresses his intrusion. “Young man, you can’t go in there!”

Frantically inspecting the area, he spots your name listed on a board. The sharp pang in his side from being out of shape isn’t phasing him in the slightest. When Eddie passes the threshold to the room you’re in, his heart is gouged from his chest; ripped clean from the cavity at the sight before him.

Wrapped in bloodied gauze, your complexion is hellishly bruised with raisin and rust-colored burns. The array of discolored hues makes you look like a well-loved doll that’s been drawn on with a permanent marker.

All Eddie can muster is an exasperated “Oh, sweetheart...” with a wobbly lower lip as tears well in his eyes. He reaches for your hand, but just as his fingertips are about to graze yours, he’s yanked backward by a security guard.

“Get your fucking hands off me!” Eddie wails. "Let me go!” His composure disintegrates as he tries to free himself from the guard’s unrelenting grip. The resistance only lasts a few seconds before Eddie’s muscles give out and he’s dragged away.

Astonishingly, Eddie respects the stern warning he receives. He knows that if he impedes, it’ll make things worse for you. He’s done enough damage as is.

In the third-floor waiting room, Eddie settles into the chair in the far corner. Sitting near the window would provide him with vitamin D, which would help him feel a little brighter, but he intentionally avoids it. He won’t allow himself to feel the glow of the sun when you’re clinging to life by the skin of your teeth.

The room is no larger than fifteen by eleven feet and has a sterile atmosphere that makes Eddie feel rather uneasy. The adrenaline dwindles from his system, allowing him to drift off while resting in the firm armchair. Understandably, considering he didn’t sleep well last night without you beside him.

Over the course of the day, the respiratory analysts run tests to determine whether you can be weaned off of the ventilator but you’re still unable to breathe unassisted.

“Mr. Munson?” A tall, older male doctor asks flatly.

Eddie stirs, his frizzy curls flying as he shakes away the drowsiness weighing on his eyelids. “Yeah, yes. That’s me.” He rubs his eyes with his fists and sits up. “How’s she doing, is she alright?”

“Well, the acute agonal respiration has…”

Eddie stares blankly as the medical jargon goes in one ear and out the other. It sounds like an entirely different language, he has no fucking clue what the doctor is talking about. Eddie is trying his best to comprehend the complex terminology.

“...a coma has been induced to allow her a better chance at healing. With that, we’re hoping to see a reduction in brain swelling. Though I do regret to inform you that the likelihood of her waking is a matter of if, not when.’

It feels like the roof is crashing down on Eddie, thrusting him through the layers of the earth until he reaches the molten outer core. Grief eats away at his sweat-slick skin, causing a loss of feeling in his fingertips as if the blood in his veins slows to a crawl.

“...If she does rouse, there’s a likelihood that she’ll experience anterograde amnesia.”

Eddie scoots to the edge of his seat and runs his palms roughly down his face. “Amnesia? Does that mean she won’t remember me?” He gulps sorely and his eyes form a glassy sheen at the notion of everything that the two of you shared being lost forever. He doesn’t even want to imagine what his life would be like without you.

The doctor opens and closes his hand as if to catch Eddie’s concern as it floats through the air. “No, no. She shouldn’t have difficulty with memory retrieval. Consolidation is what may be impacted. Only temporarily, we hope.”

With a disheartened “thank you” from Eddie, the doctor excuses himself. The strength that had kept Eddie’s tears at bay dwindles and he slumps back into the chair, sobbing noisily. He sinks his top teeth into his knuckles in an attempt to muffle the whimpers that tumble from his lips. What is he supposed to do now? Is he going to start praying to a god he doesn’t believe in?

With his optimism beyond pulverized, Eddie is overcome with the fear of losing you. How could he have let something like this happen? While managing the chaos of the present, Eddie lost sight of his future. You.

To say he’s regretful would be a substantial understatement. As Eddie realizes that you were in the burning car that he’d driven past, he feels like he’s going to be sick. The sensation is so strong that he keeps a small trash can nearby just in case. 

Beyond the thick panes of glass, the setting sun brushes the horizon and leaves the sky a flushed pink. Eddie attempts to talk some sense into himself. As difficult as it is, he takes on the responsibility of notifying your friends and family by phone call. Of the many, one call goes out to Robin.

As soon as she’s able, Robin arrives to provide Eddie with the emotional support he desperately needs. Few words are exchanged as Eddie drifts in and out of crying fits. She sits beside him and strokes his back reassuringly while he hiccups and coughs.

Robin hasn’t witnessed Eddie this perturbed before. It’s evident to her how sincerely in love he continues to be with you even though he neglected to express that when it mattered most.

A twister of bleak thoughts rips through Eddie’s mind, turning his mental state to rubble. It’s hard to process each emotion individually when they’re all equally loud. At this point, all he can think about is the little things that he may never get to do again. One particular memory stands out from the rest.

In the moments after Eddie made love to you for the first time, you laid in his bed on your stomach; naked, drowsy, and utterly satisfied. You looked ethereal to him. Eddie traced the contour of your spine with the tips of his fingers while you slept. He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear to admire your sleepily blissed-out expression. Thereupon, Eddie knew that you were the most important aspect of his life and that wouldn’t change.

As much as she'd like to, Robin can't stay all night. After sacrificing her evening to console him, she has to go home. Which leaves Eddie by his lonesome once again. It’s a rough night but somehow he manages to catch some shut eye.

Come morning, the staff still won’t allow Eddie to visit you. He rings Robin and Wayne to update them when he receives the slightest bit of information. There’s no regression in your condition, but that offers little relief.

In the following days, Eddie camps out in the waiting room. Forfeiting his comfort for the sake of being there for you. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he wasn’t there in the event that you needed him. After four days drag by, you’re finally capable of breathing without the assistance of the mechanical ventilator.

“Mr. Munson, would you like to see her now?” A nurse asks.

Eddie’s eyes widen with the desperate nod of his head. “Fucking finally.” He murmurs to himself.

Now that you’re no longer in critical condition, you’ve been situated in a room outside of the ICU. The nurse leads Eddie to the room and he hesitates outside the doorway. Up until now, he wanted to see you more than anything. But now that he can, he’s petrified. Taking the deepest breath he’s ever taken, he enters.

The blunt discomfort in his ribs is alleviated by how pretty you look. You’ve been cleaned up, which makes you appear less mangled than you did when he saw you last. Eddie's movement resembles a shuffle and his eyes switch between your face and his dirty sneakers. As if trying not to startle you, he carefully pulls up a seat at your bedside to absorb his new reality.

The steady beep of the heart rate monitor brings consolation because it reminds him that you are in fact still alive. Your unmoving hand is gently taken into his trembling palm. Eddie handles it delicately, knowing how fragile you must be.

He contemplates in silence, unsure if you would even be able to hear him if he did talk. Surely, you must be in there somewhere. In a circumstance like this, what would be the right thing for him to say?

The pad of Eddie’s thumb strokes your knuckles with a featherlight touch and his burnt caramel irises are downcast in chagrin. He can’t bring himself to look at you for very long, feeling that he doesn’t deserve to because he hurt you.

With his gaze remaining fixed downward, his other senses heighten in the hopes of detecting a subtle twitch or quiver. Any kind of indication that you know he’s there and that he promises to be by your side for as long as he lives.

Your motionlessness is killing him, but you look agonizingly peaceful. Beneath the plum-colored bruises, stitches, and scabs, you’re still the beautiful girl he treasures. Eddie whispers, “my sweet angel,” as he places a kiss on the back of your hand.

The tears that run astray trickle down his cheeks, each salty droplet holding a memory. Eddie isn’t ready for you to become a real angel. If you do, he’ll spend the rest of his life searching for white feathers and shapes in the clouds. Eddie will endlessly scour for signs that you’re watching over him.

Thirty minutes pass before he finally garners the courage to speak. “I don’t really know where to start, this feels kinda silly. But first and foremost, I owe you an apology.” Eddie tries to swallow the stale air that's making his throat feel brittle. “Sweetheart, I am so sorry. I know that probably doesn’t mean shit. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself, so I don’t expect you to.”

With his free hand, Eddie wipes his cheeks with the hem of his shirt. “If I’m being honest, I’m fucking terrified that you aren’t gonna wake up. I miss you so god damn much. I can’t imagine how tired you are, and if you wanna let go… It’s okay.”

Eddie can feel pressure building behind his eyes as the tears threaten to fall faster. He blinks them away and tries to stay focused. “But I want you to stay, baby. I’m not done being selfish yet, I need you to come back to me. Please come back. I promise I'll treat you better this time.”

It feels like he’s on a bullet train, the outside world soaring by at lightning speed while the hospital room is eerily stationary. “I swear to god, I’ll never make you feel alone like that again. No more broken promises either.” Eddie hooks his pinky finger with yours, solidifying his word.

There’s a knock at the door and Eddie peers over his shoulder. A nurse enters with a full rally bag and a roll of bandages. "You'll need to step out for a moment."

Eddie is unwilling to leave your side, but he knows he shouldn’t interfere. When he rises from his seat, he gives your hand a brief kiss. Eddie glances behind him before leaving and thinks as if saying to you, “I’ll be right back, princess. Don’t be scared.”

As the nurse is refreshing your bandages, Eddie wanders until he happens upon the gift shop. He purchases a wimpy bouquet with the pocket change he has on him. When he’s allowed to return to your room, he places the vase on the utility cart beside the bed. Even though you’re unable to see them, Eddie tells himself that you like them.

From thereon, Eddie never leaves your side. He doesn’t care about the awful nicotine withdrawal or how much he misses his mattress, there’s not a chance in hell that he’s going to be separated from you longer than absolutely necessary. Your hand never leaves his for as long as he's sitting at your bedside.

The staff takes pity on him and brings him ham and cheese sandwiches. Eddie struggles to eat one-handed but he makes it work. He wonders if you’re hungry, considering you’re surviving off of IV mixtures. He misses eating junk food with you and licking the cheese dust off of your fingers on movie nights.

Eddie’s sanity gradually slips due to being confined to the small room, but having visitors is keeping him relatively sane. Over the remainder of the week, the atmosphere vibrantly evolves. The gifts from Wayne, the Hellfire Club members, and your family bring a spiritedness similar to that of a blooming field of spring flowers. Themed balloons, greeting cards, and assorted floral arrangements line the windowsill.

Robin buys you a stuffed monkey that she names Bananas and it stays tucked under your arm. She stops in every other day, usually bringing Eddie clean clothes from home. Robin keeps you company while he takes brisk showers in the private bathroom. She even brings nail polish and paints your fingernails your favorite color.

Eddie wishes you could see how incredibly loved you are. In part, he's glad that you’re not awake because you don’t have to bear the damage your body has endured.

His thoughts continue to consume him. Eddie incessantly scolds himself for having ruined the best thing that's ever happened to him. He feels wholly responsible for you being in this state. If he hadn’t fucked up, there wouldn’t have been a fight, and you wouldn’t have left.

Eddie is slouched in the same uncomfortable chair that he’s been glued to for two weeks. He’s currently zoned out while mindlessly drawing shapes on your wrist. His eyes are fixed on the western program playing on the outdated television across the room. Eddie is pulled back to reality by the twitch of your fingers in his grasp.

His heart leaps in his chest and his eyes switch to where his hand is joined with yours. Eddie holds his breath, sits up straight, and stares intensely. He’s convinced that he’s just imagining things until there’s another twitch. And another.

Eddie’s eyes dart between your hand and your face, whispering “C’mon, baby. You can do it.”

Your eyelashes flutter as your lids steadily retract, though they don’t open very much. It’s like the storm is dispersing and the sky is pulling itself together as you come to.

Eddie is elated, to say the least. He tries to stay calm because the last thing he wants is for you to be frightened.

“There’s my girl,” He says softly while stroking your arm. Tears of pure joy roll off his cheeks. “Hi, sweetheart.” Eddie sniffles, “I really missed you.”

Reblogs are greatly appreciated! ♡

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#eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things 4 #eddie munson fics #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #eddie munson x you #fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddiemunson #strangerthings #stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie the banished #stranger things season 4 #stranger things fic #stranger things angst #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things eddie #st4 eddie #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson hurt/comfort #robin buckley x reader

[manesguerin]

every time i rewatch queer as folk, i fall in love a little more with the series. i fall in love a little more with the characters. i fall in love a little more with the stories and the relationships and even the endings that each of these couples got.

i know some people don’t like brian and justin’s ending, but it was perfect for them as characters. their love was never meant to be a locked door, keeping them in place. instead, they were characters that helped each other grow, that pushed each other to always be the best versions of themselves - whether it was risking literally everything to take down the corrupt politician in season three or accepting the heartache and the pain of not being together so justin could follow his dreams in new york.

if the two of them had gotten married in the finale and had the traditional happily ever after, it would’ve been a disservice to both of their characters. neither of them wanted a life where the other sacrificed everything to be with them and called it love, because that wasn’t the type of love they had. they had a love with no locks on the doors or bars on the window and because of that, the ending they got with each other was perfect.

it was the perfect culmination of five years of story and development. (but i do believe they ended up finding their way back together and live together in a happy open marriage where they never hook up with the same person twice and never kiss anyone else on the lips but each other.)

the fact that blake and ted ended up back together makes me so happy every fucking time. their on again and off again story was a great through line in the series -- revisited every now and then because they were always the right person, wrong time relationship. seeing them dancing at babylon in the end? they’re finally the right person at the right time. they finally grew into two people who were healthy for one another and ted got his birthday wish: to love himself as a whole and to then find someone else who loved him as a whole, not as a half waiting to be completed.

and of course ben and michael ended perfectly as did mel and lindsey. no notes. i do think emmett and drew one day found their way back together. they had a similar storyline to ted and blake -- right person, wrong time. drew was one of the few people who was able to match emmett and emmett brought out the best in drew.

and of course, michael and brian are still, to me, the heart of the show. their friendship and the love they have for each other and the way it changes over the show and the way they change -- only to end dancing together at a rebuilt babylon? perfection.

so much in the world has changed since 2005 when queer as folk ended, but so much has stayed the same. there’s still so many parallels to be drawn from the show to the modern world and that part breaks my heart. we’ve come so far, but we’ve still only taken baby steps.

but in the words of michael novotny: and so the thumpa thumpa continues. it always will. no matter what happens. no matter who’s president. as our lady of disco, the divine miss gloria gaynor, has always sung to us -- we will survive.

#queer as folk #qaf us #queer as folk us #brian kinney #justin taylor #britin #michael novotny #ben bruckner #emmett honeycutt #ted schmidt #the show got me in my fucking feels again #sorry for the very long rant #but i ended up deep in my feels #qaf meta #i guess? #idk just ramblings #because damn that is a lot of ramblings