#thanks for the ask!!! i hope he suffices :3

[deepestnightcolor]

Oml I love your writing, I just binged all the Sam fics! I saw you take requests for Harvey 👀 any chance for a “confidential check up?”

Hello, dear anon!~ Thank you so much for both the compliment and request. This was my first time writing a full-blown Harvey fic - and I hope I did suffice :D

Thanks for your request, and thank you so much for your time and love! <3

ᴀ/ɴ: as I said, this is my first time writing a Harvey fic and I am still sick, so I hope it will suffice!!

PS: I hid two Easter eggs this time. >:)

PPS: maybe 2,5, one being a slight nod at @sashiavi >:))

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Harvey (SDV) x afab!reader

ᴡᴄ: 4194 words

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: medical misconduct, unprotected sex, light nipple play, seductive reader, Harvey's a little insecure.

☾ ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ, ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ, ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴅʏ ☽

A secret that you'd never share? Simple and carnal, your secret was. Primitive, even. You had only made the appointment with Doctor Harvey to finally wrap the man around your finger.

You had tried it fair and square at first, you seriously had! Coming by whenever he had time, bringing him little gifts you were sure he'd like; trying to engage him in conversation.

However, Harvey always seemed so busy, so professional. Telling you to take care and stay healthy and giving you advice on how you achieve just that. Always looking out for you, always gentle in his words and behavior. And by Yoba, it made you want to break him even more.

Also, what better way was there to implement your plan than to catch the little lamb where it felt the safest and most confident? Of course, it was a little unfair, pretending you needed his help and skills to treat an injury, but then again you did. Just not in the way Harvey would expect. He had loads of chances to get the hint, but nothing had worked. Not even when you had fished out the shortest skirt possible out of your closet and wore it with a top that left barely anything to one's imagination, accidentally falling on your knees right in front of Harvey, showing off those lace panties of yours. No, that hadn't worked either. Harvey had let out a gasp that made you believe you had finally done something to him, just to rush to your side and ask if you were okay. If you needed help, if you were dizzy. Fuck did you want to cry out that you were dizzy for him, his touch. Instead, you gave him a sweet smile, fluttering your lashes at him as you told him no, you were fine. But thank you so much, Harvey!

You had scrambled to your feet and made your way back to the farm with your head hanging, and that was the point you decided it would probably need to be all or nothing.

“So, what brings you here today? Maru only noted that you requested to see me. I hope you didn't hurt yourself?” Harvey asked, scooting closer on his rolling chair. You were already propped up on the table, smiling sweetly at Harvey.

You had picked out an excellent outfit for the day, if you were allowed to say so. A blouse that was easy to open up and discard, and a skirt that seemed modest enough yet was nothing but of the mere purpose of covering up your lack of panties. And you were hurting. Terribly so, even. For him.

“Nono, Doc. I just, you know. I've been feeling some kind of way. Under the weather, you might say.” You leaned forward a bit now, running your fingers through your hair before twirling a strand around your finger. You were met with a pair of green-brown eyes, so full of consideration and empathy. It made you want to just sit on his face and make him spill all of his care onto your sweet pussy until you could feel it in every part of your body.

“I see! And how does that show? Do you have a headache? Do you feel more tired than usual?”

So sweet and caring, Doctor Harvey. Too cute to not bite.

You let out a sigh as if you were contemplating, biting around on your lower lip. “No, that's not it. I don't know how to describe it, it's…embarrassing.”

The doctor looked up at you again, putting away his notepad now. He gave you a sweet, genuine smile. A hand landed on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"There’s absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. This is a safe, confidential space; nothing will leave these walls.”

Go on, little lamb. Step right into the trap.

You leaned back a bit, pushing out your chest now. “Well, it's my chest. It's been so…so tender lately.”

A hum. That's all you got. A hum. Or so you thought. Because if you looked closely, you could see more. His moustache was twitching as his eyes flickered down to your breasts. Harvey was a professional, though. He quickly cleared his throat, nodding at you.

“Alright, I will glad- I would be happy- let's take a look, shall we?”

It took a lot from you to not break out in a grin; having the man break out in a stutter like that? It definitely was a step forward.

“Yes, please.” You needed to pretend to be innocent now - you didn't want to scare him away, after all.

Your fingers were quick to unbutton your shirt and your upper body was already bare before the doctor could even properly turn back to you. For a moment, his motions seemingly stuttered to a halt, his hands still clasped together from rubbing the disinfectant on them.

His moustache twitched again as he approached you, taking a seat on the chair again.

“Alright, my hands might be a little cold from the disinfectant, but I should be quick.”

Fuck, you hoped that he wouldn't be. You gave him a nod and what you hoped to be a shy smile, pushing your chest towards him a little.

And then, finally…Fucking finally you felt tender fingers on the soft skin of your breasts. It left you breathless for a moment, helpless as he traced the curves of your tits so expertly.

The moan falling from your lips really wasn't an accident, but Harvey, dear sweet Harvey, decided to let you off the hook. Ever the gentleman, wasn't he?

“Did that hurt?” He asked, his eyes flickering up to you, gently squeezing the flesh again. This time you looked straight into his eyes as you moaned, licking your lips. “No, it just…tingles,” you grinned, eyes following Harvey's dropping hands with dismay. 

“Well, I did not find any lumps or irritations that could explain the tenderness. Did any lifestyle changes happen? Or perhaps a new medication?” 

Pretending to be thinking, you swung your legs back and forth. One of your feet got in contact with his shin, slowly tracing upwards only to slide down again.

The man’s face was stoic, eyes trained on your face with a stern look. 

Yet again, the twitching of his moustache betrayed him.

The thought that you hadn't responded yet reeled you in a little: “No…Well. Maybe kind of? You know…I've been having, well. Thoughts about someone. Thoughts about them touching me, wanting me,” you began, your foot wandering to his knee.

“Could that be it?”

A blush had spread on his cheeks now, and Yoba did you love to see it. He picked up the notepad and quickly jotted something down, then nodded.

“I assume that could be it-”

“And what do I do about it, Doctor? It hurts, after all.”

Immediately, his attention is  back on you completely. “Hurts? Where?”

A vague pointing to your body made Harvey's hand reach out, touching your stomach. “Here?”

You shook your head, letting your foot wander down again. “Lower.”

His brows furrowed now and he let his hand slide towards your abdomen. “Here? Are they cramps?”

Again, you shook your head.

“Lower.”

He was hesitating now, looking up at you with an uncertainty you had never seen before, and it felt like another small victory.

“Could you…uh. Point me to where it hurts?”

Click - the trap was snapping shut.

It didn't need many words; you opened up your legs without an ounce of hesitation, revealing your cunt, all wet and ready for the doctor. “There.”

Harvey swallowed thickly, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find the words. Words that wouldn't have him lose his license. It wasn't like he hadn't seen genitals before - much more than one would expect from a small town like this - and he had never been affected. So why was his throat dry now? Why was his heart pounding like this?

“It's getting like this whenever I see handsome men like you, what could that be?”

“It’s getting like…what?” by now he was thankful that he was able to get some words out with his head feeling as light as it did right now.

“I dunno…wet?”

His eyes went straight back to your pussy, staring at it. You were wet. And you looked delicious. But he was a doctor. A professional. He had done so much to be where he was right now!

“Oh! That…uh. That…it- well. It stems from attraction. It's so..so sexual intercourse can happen more easily, you see. All natural. There's no need to worry at all.”

He was pulling back, this damn professional. Even though you could see that you were getting to him. “But…isn't there a remedy?”

Harvey wanted to just sink into the ground. His head still felt light, and he could feel his pants tighten - he had been mesmerized by you ever since you had introduced yourself. And of course, he had noticed your attempts to catch his attention - he wasn't stupid, after all. Yet Harvey had promised himself. Promised himself to not get too involved anymore. And now you were here. Exposed, and seemingly ready for him. So close but- he had to be strong. Be a doctor.

“Well, for one…You could do some self-care. Masturbation is quite healthy for the human body and mind.”

Like hell he'd recommend you to have sex with someone else, not even someone like him could be so professional. You called him handsome after all, for crying out loud!

“Oh! And…how does that work?” 

Your patience was running thin now, but you felt like you were so close to having him where you wanted him, despite him being so oblivious. His face was motionless now as he stared at you, Adam's apple bobbing up and down. He was obviously looking for words.

“I-”

“Come on, Doctor Harvey. You're supposed to help me, aren't you?” You cooed, interrupting the clouding thoughts before they could really rain on him.

“But- that is the thing. I am your Doctor-”

You didn't answer him right away, your hand wandering to your clit first, giving it a gentle flick.

“And what if you prescribed yourself to be my remedy? I think you're the only thing that can help me,” you moaned.

The groan coming from his direction certainly wasn't professional anymore. A hand, now warmer than before, settled on your thigh. “You said it hurts here?” 

Before you could look where his finger was pointing you could feel the pad of it trace through your wet folds. 

“Exactly,” you breathed, spreading your legs a little further. 

“I can't see much,” he murmured, his cock twitching painfully in his pants. “I'd need to clean you up first before I run some more tests...is that okay with you?”

The bobbing of your head was enough for Harvey to finally break down.

He leaned forward faster than he would have guessed from himself, his fingers spreading your folds, and by Yoba, you were wet. All the more reason to examine you closely, wasn’t it? Keeping you healthy wasn’t bad, after all. It was his job. And if that was what it took, he would oblige – for the sake of medicine, of course. Not because of his throbbing cock and the desperate need to taste you on his tongue; not because he was salivating from the thought alone.

His tongue slowly slipped out of his mouth, a sliver of hesitation lingering in the air. He could see your hole contract when you thought him close, he could see the shivers making the muscles of your thighs twitch whenever his hot breath hit the wetness of your cunt, and yet…wasn’t this wrong? Had he somehow taken advantage of you?

“Harvey, fuck, please?” A small rock of your hips followed your words. Urging him closer. He could smell you now, and holy life, did you smell good. Lured him right into taking a deep whiff, as if he didn’t know he would get drunk on you immediately. Yet he did know and he willingly took another deep inhale. The impatient whine above him caused his eyes to flicker up to your face. You looked down at him, your lower lip tugged between your sets of pearly whites. No words needed to be spoken, and yet Harvey still followed your order.

His tongue slowly slipped out of his mouth; eyes glued to your face. He wanted to see how you would react to that first contact, wanted to see if you felt as hot as he did right now. His pants were really straining against his aching erection, his zipper pressing against the shaft through his boxers. He was pretty sure those were wet too by now, with all the pre-cum he had been leaking. He finally pressed the muscle against your entrance, licking a flat, thick line upwards. And he took his time doing it; so much so that it had your toes curl and your thighs close in around his head. The brunet was quick to react, though, one hand holding your leg open, while the other busied itself with spreading open your pussy for his hungry tongue. His licking had become faster now, but precise enough to avoid your clit. He was, after all, only cleaning you up now, wasn’t he? Still, that didn’t mean that his hot tongue licking up whatever you gave him didn’t make you moan for him. How long had you been thinking about this? Having Harvey between your legs, in any which way he would have offered? Too long. And now he finally had his head buried between your thighs, licking and sucking you up like a starved man offered a meal after ages of going hungry. His tongue licked up and down, from one side to the other, but he still ignored your hardening clit with apparently the same professionalism he had ignored your advances before.

He gave your lips a light suck, then sunk his tongue deep inside of you. A groan left his glistening lips, eyes shut tight while he lapped at your walls eagerly, trying to get as much of you as possible into his mouth. “Harvey, oh fuck, right there,” you breathed, hand flying in his hair to hold onto the strands between your fingers tightly, giving a tug that was harder than you had intended it to be. But that only seemed to spur the male on more, his face burying deeper, tongue and lips working in unison now. And by Yoba, he had never tasted anything this good; so sweet, so…you; and you were addictive.

Your hips bucked upwards for him, if to grant him easier access or just because you couldn’t keep them down anymore, you didn’t know. You didn’t really care, either. Harvey’s moustache rubbed against you in a way that made your head spin, his lips sucking on you while he circled his tongue within you made your whole body tense. Even when pussy-drunk he seemed incredibly precise, knowing just where to brush past, when to suck and when to lick.

 You weren’t able to do much anymore, just hold onto his hair and wait for the sweet, sweet release to wash over you and in turn, Harvey’s tongue.

It was close; you could feel it in the ripple down your spine, in the way you clenched around him, you could feel it in the pit of your stomach, too. You were dangerously close to the edge, and one well-placed flick would push you over. You were ready for it; the string of moans that left your lips were dirty, raw, carrying all the words you couldn’t form anymore.

You awaited the feeling of your orgasm crashing over you, not to suddenly feel empty and cold after being engulfed in the warmth of his mouth. But Harvey was standing now, his face wet and his glasses fogged up from the heat that had reached the cool surface, and yet you knew that he was staring right at you. You opened your mouth, but you didn’t trust your vocal cords just yet, so all you did was letting out a confused hum, to which the brunet in front of you smiled.

“You are all clean now- I believe you are ready for further tests.”

Fuck, you were. More than that. By now, you really felt an ache in your body, and the only remedy was there, right in front of you, fumbling with the buttons of his pants. His hands were shaking, enough so for you to lean forward, popping the button open for him. The doctor let out an awkward laugh, moustache twitching from the embarrassed rumble that went through him. “Sorry,” he whispered but quickly switched gears when you pressed a kiss to his lips. The taste of you mixed with his spit made you whimper, the appetite for him only growing within you. You wanted to help him tug down his boxers as well, but instead of fabric, you were met with the soft skin that had been hidden beneath until now. Your throat went dry; you just had to pull away and look at him. He was big, tip coated in a layer of pre-cum, his shaft girthy.

“Harvey, please,” you stammered, leaning back on the table so he could lean over you more easily.

The brunet followed you like a well-behaved lamb, leaning in again to kiss you. You could feel the tip of his dick against your entrance, slowly pushing forward. The stretch the head of his penis caused made your eyes roll back, excitement for the rest of his girth stretching you bubbling inside of you.

Harvey, ever the gentleman, took it slow. Rutting inside of you, centimetre after centimetre, eyes fixed on your face for any signs of pain and discomfort. He brushed your hair to the side to whisper sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how good you felt, how wet you were for him, and holy Yoba, did he ever feel anything like this before?

You had to admit, at first, the stretch did hurt a little, but with both him being so tender with you, so gentle, the pain quickly turned into a cloud of lust and despair. You wanted him, and you weren’t afraid to show him anymore. “Harvey, oh, for fuck’s sake, fuck me.”

A twitch, and then a shove that made him bottom out inside of you. A groan from him bled into the moan that tore from you, but that didn’t make Harvey pause. Not anymore.

His thrusts were shaky, unsure at first. He was just so adorable, wasn’t he? His eyes searched yours as if to ask for approval, as if to make sure he was doing this right, and it made your heart swell within your chest.

“You are so good to me, Harv,” you whispered, shamelessly letting your moans slip for him. The brunet’s eyes lit up, and he pushed his hips forward faster, more eagerly now.

Smiling to yourself, you let your head lull back. Harvey’s dick felt so good within you, filling you out with clumsy thrusts that steadied the more confidence he felt. Your back arched in as the brunet found a rhythm that seemingly fitted both your tastes; fast strokes that reached deep within you. The little grunts that left his slightly swollen hips only added fuel to the fire, only made you want him more.

Your legs hooked around his soft hips as he fucked into you with quick thrusts, body working with him to get him to go harder, more ruthless. Lucky for you, Harvey was a quick learner. Dick now fucking into you harder, red tip still pounding as deep as he could go.

The man’s face was a mix of pleasure and astonishment as if he wasn’t able to believe this was really happening to him. You just felt so damn good around him, walls clinging to his hot cock, sucking him off with each thrust. If he had a say in it, he would have never left your sweet pussy again, keeping his dick buried inside of you, thrusting into you whenever he deemed fit.

The moans and whines of his name that filled the examination room made his vision blur; his balls incredibly tight all of a sudden.

“Harveeey,” you gasped out, your hand reaching for his in an attempt to hold onto something again, fingers gently brushing along his knuckles before intertwining. The brunet above you was panting now, his hips never stilling as he fucked into you. His eyes, however, weren’t focused on your face anymore; they had fallen onto your tits that were bouncing oh so nicely for him with each of his thrusts. He just couldn’t help himself; it was too tempting – his head dipped down, teeth catching one of your pretty pink nipples, nibbling on it just to suck it into his mouth moments later.

You could feel the feeling start to grow inside of you again, your orgasm approaching you, even though you didn’t want this to stop yet. You didn’t want this to end just now, now that he was filling you up so perfectly, cock sliding against your squishy walls with such ease; you didn’t want his balls slapping against your wet cunt to stop just yet, you wanted, no, needed, more.

As if hearing your thoughts, Harvey picked up his pace just a little more, his mouth switching to the other nipple to pay it the same amount of attention. The squelching sound of the wetness between your legs was to die for, just like the feeling of his orgasm hot in his veins.

You just felt so deliciously good, better than any neat whiskey ever could have, and it made him go crazy. He felt hot, he felt like he was just about close enough to heaven to feel it, but not quite there. The bucking of his hips grew more desperate as he chased his orgasm, going hard and deep inside of you while his mouth busied itself leaving hickeys on your bouncing tits. The insecurity from before had vanished, and the groans, the begs, the whines, the praise, all coming from you was enough to keep it away.

“Harvey, I am- fuck, I am so close-“

He would have answered, had he been able to. But he had basically gone mute, aside from the whimpers and groans, as well as high-pitched moans that dared to tumble from his tongue. Instead, he just nodded at you and did his best to pick up the pace some more. It was just so hard with you sucking around him so nicely, drooling all over his dick. So hard to focus when he could feel you shake beneath him, making his body ache for the final push.

The bite to your tit he gave you, combined with his deepest thrust yet was enough for you. You squeezed his hand tightly, your toes curling and your back arching in as finally allowed the release to flow over you. You cried out his name, your sweet, pretty cunt spasming around poor Harvey, who was, admittedly, both absolutely pussy-drunk and empty-minded.

His breathing now came in forceful, laboured pushes, and if he had ever heard a patient breathe like that, he would have sent them straight to bed and run endless tests on them. But this – this was nothing but the sheer hunger for one person.

He suddenly slammed forward once more, his back arching in as he moaned out your name loudly, penis twitching as he came inside of you, cum painting your walls white. He had to squeeze his eyes shut to not lose focus, his mouth hanging open as he fucked you through your orgasm. Your legs were quivering with each thrust that sent shocks up your spine from the overstimulation that slowly started to nag at you.

Panting, the brunet tried to keep himself from crashing down on top of you, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead. His eyes were still hazy as they took in your fucked-out expression. You looked ruined but also completely…satisfied.

Your hand was still shaky as you reached up to let it run down his flushed cheek, a smile on your lips. “That definitely helped, Harv,” you whispered, voice slightly more hoarse than it had been that morning.

Harvey cleared his throat, and after a moment or maybe two – maybe also three, he just felt so good inside of you – pulled out of you, shaky legs carrying him over to the sink where he wettened some paper towels to clean you up.

“I am glad I was able to help.”

Disappointment settled in your stomach. Was that it? Did he just go back to his professional self like the table beneath you wasn’t drenched in your wetness and his cum?

“But I need to run a few more tests. I think home visits would be best; I’d need different surfaces and times.”

Click. Two lambs had fallen for the trap

#sdv #stardew valley #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley farmer #stardew valley smut #sdv fanfic #fanfic #smut #sdv harvey #sdv harvey x reader #sdv harvey x farmer #stardew valley harvey #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley x farmer #harvey x farmer

[sleepy-crypt1d]

Flying over from gh0ulsh4.k, up to share the cardboard P03?

BEHOLD! LIFESIZE GAME ACCURATE SEMI-ARTICULATED P03 FROM HIT GAME INSCRYPTION! he's my roommate :]

he took me around a month to make?? i have some in progress pics somewhere buried in my phone since i made like, a year or two ago lol?? but here he is!!! my husband 💚

he's around 3-4 feet tall? i added some of my own details but i HEAVILY studied his ingame model to make him! entirely out of cardboard, foam, hot glue, autism, and paint! he's put together with elastic and glue so his arm and hand move and with his torso being foam i can maneuver him to lean and bend. originally his head could also come off because funny ha ha but i had to scrap the idea since his head just kept, falling off

more pics of him under the read more!!! + special guest hand painted stoat card :3

plus you can change its expression by a slot on the top of his head :3

he is my pride and joy 💚

#inscryption #inscryption P03 #inscryption stoat #my art #this is what autism will do to random teenagers when exposed to the best game ever #i was like #17 when i made this #he lives at my gaming desk and i play kaycee's mod to entertain him #if anyone wants more pics or progress pics just ask!!! i can also take pics of his insides to see how he's strung together lol #thanks for the ask!!! i hope he suffices :3

[rajionaifu]

Can you draw Belphegor Choro pwetty pease 🥺.

I wonder what he's reading...

#thank you for requesting viri :3 !!! #i've been messing around with my art style a lot but i hope he suffices #osomatsu san #choromatsu matsuno #belphegor choromatsu #rajionaifu #ask

[irisintheafterglow]

but who wants to live forever, babe?

summary: you're too sweet for dabi.

wc: 1.45k

cw/tags: gn!reader but dabi calls them pretty, swearing, brief reference to blood and injury, pet names (doll, baby, pretty), dialogue driven, emotionally constipated touya todoroki

note: this is very shamelessly written because of hozier lol. hope you like it :)

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated <3

You were irritating, excessively irritating. 

You woke up too early to watch the sunrise and stayed out too late to see constellations. You lingered in flower shops to touch the prettiest blooms and gave the last of your coins to street musicians. You were the first to suggest the tastiest food around and always volunteered to pay for everyone’s meals, no matter how large the group. You were thoughtful, selfless, and frustratingly kind. He wouldn’t have as much of a problem with it if you weren’t the deadliest killer-for-hire in Musutafu’s criminal underground. 

“You’re too nice,” Dabi says one night after a period of calm silence following the chaos of him crashing through your window and bleeding all over your floor. You glance at him from your spot on the windowsill, peering carefully over the construction blueprints for the following day’s assignment. He sits up with a groan, his hand grabbing the the spot on his abdomen you’d stitched up a few hours prior. “It’s infuriating.”

“A simple ‘thank you’ would suffice, you know,” you deadpan and he scoffs, wincing when pain shoots across his side. “Had it been anyone else who broke into my apartment, I’d have to deal with a fully dead body instead of a semi-dead one.” 

“That’s exactly my point,” he argues, straining his arm to grab the cup of water on the side table. Before he can get a good grip on it, you stand and snatch it from his fingers, holding it enticingly with a hand propped on your hip. “C’mon, doll. Now, you’re just being mean.”

“I’m being nicer than you are,” you counter with an iron grip around the cup. “Calling me infuriating after I just saved your barbecued ass from dying. Didn’t your mom ever teach you manners?”

“My mom didn’t teach me jack shit,” he reminds you, making another futile swipe for the water that you easily pull away. “What do you want me to do, take it back?” You shake your head with a tired sigh, finally handing him the cup. “I’m not taking it back,” he mumbles as you sit on the edge of the bed. Against his better judgment, he doesn’t immediately flinch away when you reach out to check his bandages, your fingers brushing delicately across his skin.  

“I know you aren’t,” you murmur absentmindedly. 

“Aren’t you gonna ask why?”

“Why should I? It’s not like you’re going to tell me why you hate me,” you concede and a muscle in his jaw tenses. 

“Stop being a brat and just ask.” You resist the urge to jab your pointer finger straight into his stab wound but settle for pulling back your hand from his body, leaving him craving your touch no matter how his logic told him to resist. He has half the mind to reach out and grab your hand, part of him ready to beg you to just stay with him. But, when his palm covers the top of your hand, it sits there awkwardly until he clenches it into a fist and pulls away. He tries another tactic. “Look, all I’m saying is you shouldn’t open your window for every stranger that crawls up your fire escape.” 

“But you’re not a stranger, as much as I wish you were one.” You return to your papers at the windowsill and he’s alone in the bed again. 

“You don’t mean that,” he says, his voice barely a whisper. “Tell me you’re lying.” His voice is almost too quiet for you to hear it break. Almost. 

“No,” you admit. “Of course, I don’t mean it.” You were looking at him too softly, too tenderly. Taking him in, stitching him up, and letting him rest while you kept watch was infintely more than what he deserved, especially after banging on your window and immediately passing out when you opened it. “Tell me you don’t mean what you said.”

“I do, though.” You nod and he watches your walls go up in real-time, closing yourself up so his words, good or bad, can’t get through. A million thoughts of panic race through every nerve in his body and only one command makes its way through: Fix it. 

“I understand.”

“No, you don’t.” Your blank expression becomes a frown and you look ready to kick him out onto the streets, or at least reopen his wound. “Let me explain first before you beat the shit out of me.”

“You have thirty seconds.”

“I think you’re too good for me,” he declares simply. He can’t see his truth make your heart stutter. “I think you’re too good for this life in general, and I think you should get out of it.” You scoff humorlessly, rolling your eyes to the side. 

“Because you hate me?”

“Because I don’t,” he corrects. You dare to meet his eye and feel your breath catch in your throat. His eyes are shining bluer than you’d ever seen them before, the scarce moonlight leaking through your window catching in his eyes just right. They’re scorching, hotter and more intense than anything his Quirk could create. “I should, but by some cruel twist of Fate, there are no words for how desperate I feel when I’m not with you, however much I despise that feeling.” In any other circumstance, you wouldn’t be able to waterboard this information out of him; yet here he was, bitterly lovesick and scowling as he told you that he’d rather burn alive than hate you. You fail to stifle a laugh and his scowl deepens. “You laughing at me?”

“A little bit, yeah,” you confess, standing to check his temperature with a hand on his forehead. It’s scathing hot and you suddenly notice the shivers he was trying to conceal. “You must be delirious if you’re admitting this all out loud, and you’re probably going to start burning up if you continue talking.” 

“I’m not delirious,” he grumbles. “And it’s normal for me to get like this when I… overdo it on missions.” Your mouth opens in understanding and he lets you touch his forehead once more to confirm the fever. “I figured you’d know this by now after all the times you’ve had to fix me.”

“Forgive me for thinking that you were becoming ill because you were forced to say one nice thing about me,” you say with a smirk, grabbing a small towel and heading to the bathroom. His voice calls after you while you turn on the cold water. 

“There you go again with your stupid sweet-talking sarcasm. You can at least acknowledge what I just confessed to you.” You chuckle again and re-approach him at the bed, draping the wet towel over his forehead and gently pushing him back onto the pillow. “You’re doing it again.” You make a split-second decision to mess with him, just for the hell of it. 

“Doing what, baby?” The petname disarms him and he blinks at you once, then twice before regaining consciousness. 

“Being too sweet for me,” he manages to force out and you let yourself smile at his obvious blush. You flip over the cloth to the cooler side and he sighs, closing his eyes in contentment. “You don’t do this with everyone, do you?”

“No, Touya,” you answer patiently and something in his chest tightens at the use of his true name. He’d forgotten he told you his true identity, most likely a result of a circumstance similar to the one you were in where he was too tired and weak to think clearly. “You are the only one I will take care of and allow to barge through my window at three in the morning. Not because I’m ‘too sweet,’ like you say, but because I care about you. Got it?”

“Mmm. Yeah,” he rasps. “Thanks, doll. You mind getting in here with me? I’ll sleep better if–”

“You don’t even need to ask,” you finish, slipping under the covers and settling against his chest. “Just stop being an asshole for a second.”

“Hey, careful on the–” 

“I’m aware of your wound, stupid,” you interject. “I’m the one who fixed it, remember?” 

“Right. Yeah, sorry,” he mutters, his lips brushing the top of your forehead. The tension in his body gradually dissipates the longer your skin is against his. “Can we sleep now?”

“If you shut up for long enough, yeah,” you joke and he lightly pinches your side. 

“I finally get in bed with you and you’re not so sweet anymore.” You snort against his chest. “What happened?” 

“I think we both have a lot to learn about each other. For now, please shut up and sleep.” 

“As you wish, pretty.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#dabi x you #dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #touya x you #touya x reader #touya x y/n #touya todoroki x you #touya todoroki x y/n #touya todoroki x reader #mha x you #mha x reader #mha x y/n #bnha x you #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n

[fandoms--fluff]

Pop of Colour

Flufftober, October 9th

Female reader x Jess Mariano

Summary: Jess asks you paint his nails

Warnings: none

A/n: this is the first Gilmore Girls fic I've written, I hope it's good! Oh, and this is ooc but Jess is my sweet baby, so hush and read! ...only if you want to <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jess is sitting on your bed, leaning against your headboard with one of your pillows in his lap. He watches as you screw the top back on your nail polish. He watched you paint your nails the whole time.

He's always been interested in painted nails and always wished he could have his colorful as well. But he knows people will point it out and they'll make fun of him, as his mom had always told him, even when she was drunk or high as a kite. All her boyfriends and husbands had made it very clear that boys should never have painted nails or wear any makeup when Jess once came back home from school after coloring his nails with markers at school.

"You okay, Jess?" You ask him, noticing his eyes trained on your hands. "Um, yeah, sorry" he looks up at your face.

After a pause he opened his mouth again, "I-I was wonderin if you could, uh, paint...my nails? please?" He knows that he's not good at asking for things or asking about stuff, but he's been trying since you guys started dating.

"Oh, yeah, of course, hun. Come over here" You softly smile and nod over to the other chair with a sweater draped over the back of it.

He blinks for a second, surprised that you said yes, and puts your pillow back. He climbs off the bed and sits down on the chair. You pull out your small basket with nail polish and sit on your chair, holding it out to him.

"You can choose whatever colour you want," You tell him and he takes the basket from you.

He gently rummages through the different colours and pulls a dark red one out. He hesitantly hands it to you and places the basket on your desk.

You take it from Jess and shake it for a couple seconds. "Good choice" You twist the top open. "Okay, place your left hand on the desk and keep it still," You tell him. He nods, obliging to the order. He places his left hand on the wood surface.

As you paint his nails, his eyes are focused on the strokes of the small brush. Every time you dip the brush back into the polish and start on the next nail, he feels the coolness of the strong smelling dyed chemical.

"Aaand...done" you twist the top back onto the bottle and put it with the rest of them.

Jess looks down at both of his hands. A smile perks up on his face when he sees the shiny polish on his nails.

"You like?" You ask, seeing the smile on his face. "I love 'em...thank you" He answers, still working on not being closed off with his thoughts and emotions.

"Of course, any time. Now, just for the next five minutes, keep your hands still, especially the one I just painted, to make sure nothing smudges" You put the basket away before leaning against the desk.

"But what if I wanted to kiss you?" Jess smirks, trying to put his 'bad boy' image back up. "Hmm, cute" You smirk back, knowing exactly what he's trying to do.

"You'll have to wait, for now, this'll have to suffice" You lean down and kiss his forehead.

"Oh, come on, not even a real kiss" He pouts, something that's new for him, but he makes sure to only do it in front of you. He almost slipped up in front of Luke after he had a nightmare one night, and it was a complete disaster in his mind.

"Nope, you, baby, are gonna have to wait" You playfully wink, making him groan. The only good thing out of your teasing is now he knows what it's like to have painted nails like he's always wanted without someone making fun of him (at least right now at least), And if Luke brings up how his nail colour changed, no he doesn't.

#jess mariano #jess mariano x reader #jess mariano x female reader #jess mariano x fem reader #cute jess mariano #painting nails #cute #fluff #luke danes #imagines #fanfic #writing #comfort #kinda? #not really #gilmore girls #gilmoregirls

[tkaulitzlvr]

could i request a drunk tom? like what would happen if he drinks too much and the reader is with him 👀

INTOXICATED - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: when tom gets a little too drunk after a night out, it’s your job to get him home in one piece - which turns out to be a lot harder than it seems.

content: mentions of sex, mainly just fluff idk how to describe this lol

a/n: i really hope you like it thank you so much for the request!!

i had lost sight of tom, looking for the familiar black braids and bandana amongst the crowd of drunken bodies, knowing that my boyfriend would be there somewhere. he was already tipsy before he’d left me, the alcohol getting to him faster than it usually would. he’d told me that he was going to get another drink and that he’d “be right back”, so i had stayed put on the sofa we were sat at, slowly sipping my porn star martini and waiting for him to arrive. that was 10 minutes ago, and, despite knowing how crazy my boyfriend can get after a few too many drinks, i still began to grow worried, standing up and moving through the endless sea of sweaty bodies, but none of them were tom.

calling out his name would be pointless - the music was so loud that i couldn’t even hear the conversation going on right next to me, let alone would tom be able to hear me calling him. instead, i settled on searching the entire place for him, with little success. it was a saturday night, the bar completely packed as expected. after a chorus of “sorry” and “excuse me”s, i finally made me way out of the crowd, and to the bar, seeing tom drunk out of his mind, empty shot glasses around him. i storm over, him turning to see me as a large grin spreads across his face.

“babyyyyyy!” he slurs, reaching out and trying to pull me into a hug from the barstool he is sat on.

“don’t baby me tom! what happened to ‘coming right back’? i’ve been looking for you everywhere.” i scold, looking at his face and seeing that he is far too wasted to even realise how angry i am.

“sorry, i just wanted a drink.” he smiles lazily, gesturing to the empty glasses infront of him.

“a drink? how many have you had since you left? jesus christ how are you even still conscious?” i question, sitting at the bar stool next to him, not even attempting to count the shots he’d been shoving down his throat - the answer would have only frustrated me even more than i already was.

he was completely shitfaced. i don’t think he even realised that i was talking to him, or, talking at all. all that he could do was grin like an idiot, constantly trying to grab me or kiss me, placing his hands anywhere that they could reach, reminding me how turned on he gets when drunk - even more than his usual self. “i don’t know, maybe like 3? or 9? you should have some too!” he chuckles, failing to see the unimpressed look on my face, as i stare at him blankly.

“and who would take us home if i did? you were meant to drive us, remember? i can’t drink anything else ‘cause it looks like i’ll be the one doing it.” i sigh, resting my head in my hands, wondering how the fuck i’ll be able to get this man out of the bar and into a car without losing my sanity.

“whattt? no, schatz, i’ll drive. i’m perfectly fine, look.” he attempts to sit straight, this apparently sufficing as proof for his sobriety, but the second he removes his torso from where it was resting on the table, he wobbles slightly, trying to play it off as a stretch.

“see?” he says, genuinely proud of himself, a satisfied smile appearing on his face.

“jesus fucking christ.” i mutter, taking a deep breath. “you can’t even sit straight. i’m driving baby, end of.”

he nods, accepting my answer before finishing the last of his glass, holding his arm out and trying to wave the bartender over.

“tom what are you doing?” i ask, putting my hand over his and placing it back on the table.

“getting another drink.” he shrugs, saying those words so nonchalantly as if he isn’t one more sip away from passing out.

“are you insane? you’re absolutely wasted, let’s go.” i say, knowing that it won’t end here.

“noooo! im just getting started, let’s stay, please baby?” he begs, staring into my eyes and rubbing his thumb over my thigh, trying to win me over. his eyes were tired, half-lidded as he looked at me through them, completely out of it.

“no, come on baby. we’re leaving.” i insist, grabbing his hand and lifting him upwards, his arm wrapping itself around my shoulder as we begin to walk out. surprisingly, he could hold himself up pretty well - it was walking in something even remotely close to a straight line that proved impossible for him. when we reach the crowd of intoxicated bodies past the bar, he quickly pulls out of my grasp, taking my hand and leading me into it.

“let’s dance.” he slurs, attempting to grab my waist and pull it against his crotch, running his hands up and down my body.

“are you crazy? we are going home, come on.” i pull away from him, irritated by his advances but not at all surprised. normally, i wouldn’t complain when he acted this way, but when i wanted nothing more to be home and in bed, my body tired from having to look after him for this long, it only angered me more, dancing with him the last thing on my mind. my hand finds his once again, roughly trying to pull him through the flood of people, not without him opening his mouth once again.

“did i tell you how beautiful you look tonight?” he whispers in my ear, mumbling his words as he can barely utter a sentence, his hand falling to my ass and giving it a rough squeeze. i gasp, quickly turning my head to face him. his eyes are hooded, full of lust, a proud smirk plastered across his face.

“tom stop! not right now.” i hiss, shaking my head and turning back to the doors as i push through them, hearing him laugh behind me.

“you know you liked it.” he mumbles, taking my hand as i hold it out for him, scanning the empty streets and trying to make out tom’s car in the darkness, the dimly lit street lamps providing next to no light.

i ignore his response, eventually making out the familiar r8 and turning to tom. “keys?” i ask as he slowly searches his pockets, pulling them out and tossing them to me, this the first time he has actually done something without trying to make a quick remark, or completely ignore what i had asked.

“come on.” i sigh, pulling him towards the passenger side and struggling to put him in the car. he laughs at my fight with his stubbornness, clearly finding this whole situation amusing. i manage to sit him down, pointing to his seatbelt.

“put it on.” i say, running out of patience with him.

“hmmm i think you should do it.” he smiles, staying put and waiting for me.

“fuck me.” i mutter, grabbing the seatbelt and wrapping it around his body until it clicks in place.

“gladly baby.” he smiles, happy with himself as he reaches for his jacket, trying to pull it from his frame.

“you know i didn’t mean it like that.” i shake my head, pulling the jacket back on and closing the door rushing over to the drivers seat, scared of leaving him alone for even a few seconds. i open the door, sitting down as tom quickly reaches over, planting a sloppy kiss onto my cheek, his breath smelling so strongly of alcohol that it takes me aback.

“i love youuuu.” he says, looking at me and resting his hand on my thigh. i laugh slightly, my heart melting at his attempt to be romantic, even in this state.

“i love you too.” i sigh, turning the engine on as it hums quietly over the radio. tom starts to tap his hands against the dash to the beat at an obnoxiously loud volume, but i am far too tired to even try get him to stop, letting him carry on as i begin the short drive home.

“come on, up the stairs. then we can go to bed, okay?” he let’s out a small “mhm”, kicking off his shoes as he does so, letting them tumble down the stairs, knowing that i’ll be the one to clean his mess in the morning.

he stumbles his way upwards, reaching the top of the stairs and walking into our shared bedroom. his body flops onto the bed, sinking into the sheets with a loud sigh. i pull him upwards, studying the oversized jeans and shirt he is wearing, knowing that he isn’t fit to change clothes himself.

without saying a word, i reach for the hem of his t-shirt, lifting the material over his head.

“woah baby, slow down! if you wanted to fuck you should’ve just asked.” he smiles, taking both of his hands and putting them on my waist, using his tongue to play with his lip piercing.

“we aren’t fucking tom, not when you’re like this. you need to get changed, you can’t sleep in this.” i explain as he sighs in disappointment.

“such a tease.” he mumbles, undoing the button of his jeans and pulling them off, sliding under the covers whilst i get into my own pyjamas, joining him in bed as he quickly holds my waist, his chest against my back, head rested in my neck. he places a long kiss on the bare skin, holding my waist and gently caressing it.

“goodnight.” i say. silence. for the first time tonight, he says nothing. i sigh in relief, shutting my eyes and assuming that he has fallen asleep.

“you sure you don’t want to fuck?”

requests are open! please keep sending them in!

#tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz x reader #kaulitz twins #kaulitz #tom kaulitz fluff #tom kaulitz smut #bill kaulitz #tokiohotel #tokio hotel

[heavenlycloud]

all my thoughts, they're shaped like you: huh yunjin x fem! reader

request: i was wondering if you could write smth about yunjin and reader having a sleepover? it can be a smut or not js however you'd like &lt;3

a/n: i decided to write this as sfw instead of smut just bc im...not confident in my smut writing abilities rn so i hope this will suffice! enjoy and thank you so much for requesting. *please note all pictures and videos are used for creative reference to give readers a visual of hair, makeup, clothes, shoes, etc. ONLY*

guilty was your first comeback in six months and by far your most successful since your debut four years ago. originally the song was to go to one of your seniors, but it was pushed your way when another caught his attention. the song was much more mature than the other songs you'd put out in the past which increased attention towards this new side of you as an artist. the past four weeks were filled with long schedules of music and variety show appearances, photoshoots, and too many fansigns to count. however, today was the last day of schedules before you got a two week long break to rest and recover.

you stood in front of your manager who was pressing you to take pictures for instagram before you got whisked away elsewhere. he smiled as you posed and the rest of your staff members made positive comments about you and your performance outfit. you didn't even bother settling back into your dressing room because not even two seconds later there was a knock at the door. you rushed over to open it and a small face peeked through as you beamed from ear to ear.

eunchae shyly greeted your staff members and you before she stepped back and onced you over with a gasp, "you're so pretty!" you reached forward and pulled her into a hug, "you're so precious oh my god." she giggled and led you down the hallway to the room where she films Eunchae's Star Diary. when you both got inside she motioned for you to sit down and she followed behind you.

for a moment there was silence after you introduced yourself before you and eunchae began laughing and you admitted in english, "i'm sorry i don't want to be awkward...it's this is just a little funny to me because we've never actually met." eunchae agreed and answered in korean, "yeah this is our first time meeting, but i feel like i know about you a lot because yunjin unnie talks about you all the time." similar to a professional she continued, "with your new comeback, can you tell us a little bit about the album and your favorite song?" you nodded and explained more professionally, "guilty is my first album since six months ago. it's also a different sound than what i've put out before. this time i wanted to focus on something that everyone can connect with."

eunchae looked at you with wide eyes and prompted you to continue so you added, "guilt is an emotion that everyone has to some extent or another. it's a feeling that has a negative connotation and that's something i wanted to change. of course singing about positive things is good, but i think singing about negative things and presenting them in a beautiful way is equally as important. more specifically, my single guilty’ is about a selfish love that hurts the other person. it’s not coming from my experience, but i used it as a way to define what love is and express it on stage.”

the younger girl looked at you and sighed, "everything you say sounds so smart." you laughed and shyly dismissed the complement out of habit before she asked you, "who was the first person to hear the single?" you side eyed her and she grinned because she already knew the answer but for the sake of her show you sighed, "huh yunjin of le sserafim." eunchae pointed and laughed at your facial expression and you playfully rolled your eyes but she shared happily, "yunjin unnie has been singing the song nonstop since it came out. when it dropped she was telling all of us in the dorm that she heard it first! she kept bragging that it was so good but didn't tell us any hints! but it was worth the wait because the comeback is incredible, unnie!" heat bloomed in your chest at the thought of yunjin listening to your music and bragging about how talented you were to those closest to her.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

the minute you got back into your apartment after your schedule all of your messages came rushing into your notifications. your best friends had blown up your phone all day which honestly wasn't new, but scrolling through 100+ messages was kinda annoying when you were tired. then, like clockwork your phone started ringing and you answered to see one of your best friends on your screen, "hey i don't know if you saw somi's texts or not but we're having a sleepover at your place tonight." immediately you responded, "who is we? you speak french now?" on the other line she laughed and said, "don't be like that y/n."

you whined, "aeri! i just finished promotions im TIRED! and why my place and not somi's?" aeri let out a small huff and said, "somi's apartment flooded like ten minutes ago so we can't stay there. you know the rest of us aren't allowed people to stay overni-" you cut her off immediately, "hold on it's not just you and somi?" aeri looked off to the side and bit her lip, "uh...so funny story..." before she could answer someone snatched her phone and continued, "jen is coming too." you spat out the water you were sipping, "WHY WOULD YOU INVITE YUNJIN?!" somi answered casually, not taking her eyes off of the road, "i thought you would've worked stuff out by now. besides it's kinda shitty if we have a sleepover and exclude one person. it's called a friend group for a reason, right?" you huffed, "yeah i guess..."

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

the friend group started just as you and giselle when she entered SM entertainment back in December of 2019. the two of you clicked immediately even though you were technically her senior, having debuted that past summer. along with her members, they were the only girls close to your age in the entire company so you were quick to befriend them as soon as you were allowed. months after meeting giselle, you met somi who debuted a month before you as a soloist. then you introduced the two and the three of you were a trio of best friends...until yunjin came into the picture.

you and yunjin were familiar with one another but you only met once at a music show when you were promoting at the same time. from there you introduced her to somi and aeri, and she was added into the friend group. once you added her into the small bunch of friends you all were complete, and dubbed, The Plastics, by fans.

for the most part everything was fine with you four except that there were times when it was hard to meet up because of busy schedules. however, you started trying to distance yourself a bit when you realized that you had a crush on yunjin. the cardinal rule of friend groups was don't date other people in the same group. despite aeri and somi swearing up and down to you that yunjin liked you back, you refused to feed into it. your best friends weren't liars but you just couldn't bring yourself to believe them for whatever reason. besides even if you confessed to yunjin you didn't think much would come of it besides a ruined friend group. so you decided that you were just going to continue trying to compartmentalize your feelings and gaslighting yourself into thinking you didn't like her.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

you ran to your room trying to get everything ready for your friends, the least you could do is have a clean apartment. the vaccuum drowned out the sounds of the city streets below your building as you dragged it across your area rug. you hummed along to oceanfromtheblue that blasted through your headphones, further muting the noise from the outside world. unbeknownst to you, yunjin had already entered your apartment. she got in using the 10 digit code on your door that she memorized just in case because that's what friends do...right?

a pair of hands gently caught your hips as you backed up with the vaccuum in hand making you scream and jump. you whipped around to see yunjin standing before you looking perfect as usual. she was only in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie with those ugg slippers she liked to leave in your apartment for when she visited you. even in a basic dressed down outfit she still looked like an angel with her red hair pulled into a messy bun with a few loose strands framing her face. the pair of glasses she wore sat low on her nose causing her to push them up before pulling you into a hug. she laughed and apologized, "y/n i'm sorry! i called out your name a few times i thought you would have heard me." you let out the breath you'd been holding and assured her, "no it's fine i shouldn't have had my headphones this loud..."

there was an awkward silence and her eyes found yours bringing out a pinkish hue to her cheeks that was only reserved for you. her hands remained on your hips and you brushed a piece of her hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. the simple action sent butterflies straight to her stomach and made her catch her lip between her teeth. neither of you knew where this was headed but right before you two could figure it out, the front door swing open and aeri entered with somi, "HEY BITCHES- oh." the two of you jumped and yunjin inched away from you, "heyyyy!" somi motioned between the two of you, "did we just interrupt something or?" immediately you refused, "no we were just um... yeah anyways hey guys." you paused and realized the two let themselves in, "wait- how did you two get inside?" yunjin and your manager were the only two people who knew the password for your apartment so how did they manage to get in?"

somi pointed to her phone and said, "i wrote it down the last time yunjin and i were over. the real question is why does yunjin know it and we don't. i thought we were friends." the blonde placed her hands on her hips and pouted to which aeri added, "how do you even remember all those numbers anyways?" yunjin responded, "i memorized it after seeing y/n do it once. and it's not hard, i just remember important things." both aeri and somi shared a glance and you joked, "so basically i need to make a new passcode. got it." the three of them laughed and put their bags down so you could start your plans for the night.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

yunjin pulled out a vlogging camera from her bag and said, "i know we usually have a 'no work stuff' policy for our hangouts but i have to vlog and this is the only interesting thing i've done all week." your other friends started getting baking utensils and ingredients out of your pantry and cabinets while you preheated your oven.

the american idol stood in front of the camera and started speaking, "hi everyone! today i'm with my friends- and we're going to do the blind, mute, deaf challenge while cooking. y/n is being so kind to let us use her kitchen today!" you fake side eyed her and muttered, "you all showed up on my doorstep unannounced but okay." the three laughed and finished setting up the things you'd need.

since it was yunjin's vlog she decided how roles were split up and it was through rock paper scissors: aeri was deaf, somi and you were blind, yunjin was mute. for the sake of your kitchen and everyone's safety she decided to have two people who weren't allowed to speak. before starting the challenge yunjin explained, "so we already have the roles assigned. basically we are going to try to cook dinner together with our roles and we aren't allowed to switch or break character. so aeri is deaf- she already has her headphones on." she pointed the camera to aeri who was in her own world listening to some tyga song on blast, not paying attention to anyone else. yunjin continued, "somi and y/n are blind- wait do we have a blindfold?" she turned to you and you shook your head, "why would i have a blindfold? somi smirked and winked, "i have many blindfolds." yunjin slapped her arm and she laughed, "what?" you huffed in fake annoyance, "we should have made her one of the mute ones. yunjin finished explaining, "and i'm mute so i'm going to be silent because i didn't want to tape my face. anyways, aeri is the only one that can see the recipe and we have to follow her directions." you ended up finding two scarves in one of your drawers to tie around your and somi's heads and you all started the challenge.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

"OKAY! BOIL THE POT OF WATER!" aeri shouted loudly making you flinch at the sudden outburst. you reached your hands in front of you as you cautiously dug a pot out from your cabinet and placed it in somi's hands. the blonde started to slowly walk to your sink, hitting the front of it with a soft thud and a whine while the rest of you laughed. somi filled the pot up and gently walked it back with the help of yunjin before she turned on the stove. the rest of it went like this, yunjin slightly helping you while aeri screamed the directions to you all.

when it came to cutting the chicken somi backed away from the counter, "i don't wanna touch it ew." you muttered, "you big baby." aeri asked in confusion, "YOU SAID YOU HATE ME?" the three of you burst out laughing while aeri stood still confused, looking around then into yunjin's camera as if it would talk back to her. you stood in front of the cutting board with the raw chicken and grabbed the knife that was within reach. you thought aloud, "this is probably a bad idea having the blind one do this part of the challenge but...i have bandaids."

somi was busy trying to drain the pasta from the water with the help of aeri guiding her as yunjin nervously watched you handle the knife and raw meat. yunjin tensed as she watched you nearly cut your finger once and then placed a hand on your arm. this time you didn't jump at her touch and let her come behind you. her hands placed gently atop yours and you giggled before playfully asking, "oh my god what is this? so romantic." beside you somi and aeri pretended to gag, somi not even facing the right direction as she teased you. when you both finished cutting the meat, yunjin moved from behind you and immediately you missed her body pressed against yours.

the remainder of you all cooking was a hot mess. from aeri forgetting she was in charge of instructions to take mini dance breaks, to somi trying to spoon in pasta water into the sauce with a fork by accident, yunjin trying to mime out her questions about the recipe to aeri, and you walking smack into the open refrigerator door- the whole thing was a mess. but an entertaining one that fans would love to watch once it was uploaded. somehow by some miracle you all managed to make the food exactly how it was supposed to taste which paid off at the end.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

hours passed and aeri and somi had fallen asleep after crying their eyes out to the notebook that just finished playing. you poked aeri with your foot and her head lolled to the side limply making you and yunjin laugh. you pointed to your tv and asked, "did you like the movie?" the red aired woman nodded and mumbled quietly, "yeah, it was good. i understand the hype now but it was sad too. i love a happy ending but leading up to it was sad, you know?" you agreed and admitted, "i was mad when they made me watch it for the first time so you're better than me. all of that emotion just for me to get something kinda nice at the end, it was exhausting." she hummed in agreement and you both fell silent.

yunjin's hands brushed your hair gently, the softness of your silk press beneath her fingers was different from the way you usually wore it. unlike when most people touched your hair, you didn't pull away or dodge her hands running through the strands. instead you scooted closer to her and smiled when she began dutch braiding one of the sides on your head. the two of you basked in the quiet which was the first of it's kind tonight.

there was a small snag in your hair that caused you to almost whimper when her long fingers tugged at it. yunjin murmured an apology and pressed a gentle kiss to the spot before continuing. she then spoke up, "imagine just...forgetting who you are and everyone you love like that."

you didn't think before answering, "i almost did. when i left home and came here. i was around people that said i needed to leave my old life behind if i wanted to be successful here. i was naive and thought it was true, that my past would hold me back so i tried to let it all go. i only realized they were wrong after i was all alone." yunjin began braiding the other side of your head and asked, "so how'd you fix it?" you answered, "i met people who were like me and i made friends and talked to people. i tried to do things that reminded me of home, like being around you guys." yunjin finished your two braids and you turned around to see her smiling at you fondly. she could see the slight pain hidden behind your gaze as you recall one of the harder times in your life.

yunjin sighed and blurted out, "you smell like home." for a moment she froze and you pulled away and asked, "like new york? cuz that's not a complement if i smell like a new york street." yunjin laughed and answered nervously, "no you just...i don't know you're just- whenever i'm with you i feel at home." she moved down to the floor mattress you laid out earlier that night, knowing somi and aeri would be laid out on the couch like they are now.

you laid side by side as you told yunjin, "it feels like that with you too, like i'm back in the states just living without worries like now." yunjin bit her lip debating on if she wanted to do this now, but she caved into herself, "that's not what i meant but it's okay." you turned to face her, now laying on your side as you asked, "what did you mean then?"

yunjin felt her heart begin to race and she tried to brush it off, "no there's nothing." but you were determined to understand what she meant so you asked, "no, talk to me. what's going on in your head? tell me. i want to know, i want to know everything about you." of course yunjin knew that you weren't ever going to force her to speak, so she still had an out if she wanted to just not continue the conversation. however, she was tired doing this same dance with you where she almost admitted her feelings then ran away at the last minute. she knew that even if you didn't feel the same way that you wouldn't let that ruin the friendship you already have so she bit the bullet.

there was a pause then yunjin huffed and confessed "when i'm with you i feel safe, like i have nothing to worry about. i can just be myself and i know you'll never judge me or leave because i express myself the way i want to. whenever i'm not with you, you're still living in my head...all of my thoughts, they're shaped like you. i love you and i love being around you and being with you and i never want to leave your side which is why i try not to come too close because i can't risk fucking this up. but here i am telling you what i told myself i'd take to the grave so...just promise me if this screwed everything up and judging by your silence i think it did- just pretend it never happened and leave somi and aeri out of thi-" you refused to let her talk herself into thinking she ruined everything, "i love you too."

yunjin's breath caught in her throat and you repeated, "i love you too, huh yunjin. i love you so much and i love being around you and with you too." she sat up so she was upright then looked back down at you until you were sitting beside her. the small nightlight on your hallway outlet was the only thing allowing you to see her eyes locked on yours. you inched closer to her and brought your arms to rest on her shoulders while her hands were on your waist. her long fingernails scratched the ribbing of your tank top while your fingers twirled with a piece of her hair.

her forehead pressed against yours and you whispered, "what does this make us then?" yunjin shrugged and giggled which made you smile, "i dunno but we can figure it out together?" you asked, "yeah?" she nodded and you noticed how she eyed your two friends who were asleep tangled together yet half off the couch. she looked back at you and asked, "so when do we tell them?" you scrunched your nose and placed a gentle peck on yunjin's lips. the red haired woman paused then kissed you twice more, "who says we have to?" right when you pressed your lips against hers for the last time, a bright flash lit up your entire living room. you both looked over and aeri smacked somi's arm as she soft whisper yelled, "what part of NO FLASH did you not understand?" the two smiled as big as they could from ear to ear before yunjin let out a huff and sighed, "you all suck."

#kpop fanfic #girl group imagines #girl group scenarios #kpop imagines #girl group fluff #girl group reactions #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #lesserafim reactions #le sserafim imagines #le sserafim scenarios #huh yunjin x reader #huh yunjin #aespa giselle #somi #wlw fanfic #wlw fluff #wlw kpop

[diorcities]

nabi

pairing: lee donghyuck x afab!reader. content: smut, angst. miscommunication trope, exes to lovers, manipulation, toxic relationship, jealousy, college au, mention of jisung, mention of jaemin, mention of mark. hand job, shower sex (kinda) riding, angry sex, slight bondage, softdom!haechan, rough sex, edging, unprotected sex. wc: 6.8k. playing: 21 gracie abrams ;; somebody else the 1975 ;; white ferrari frank ocean ;; hostage billie eilish ;; there you are zayn ;; people libianca x becky g ;; la la lost you 88rising x niki ;; style taylor swift. an: thanks for reading <33

you missed his 23rd birthday.

as you listen to your roommate rummaging through her bedroom drawers, your eyes wander to the phone screen. fingers floating on the keyboard, half a sentence written, before you end up deleting it. the shower you have taken has not served to remove the thoughts that swarm in your head.

emily comes out of her room just as you block the phone, shooting you a look. “so, what are we thinking?” she asks, appearing around the doorway, taking a leisurely turn that allows you to see her outfit. “perfect,” you just say. emily huffs, “i hope so,” she informs, rolling her eyes at something that crosses her mind. then look at you again. “are you sure you don't want to come? i mean, it's a saturday night,” she says, and for a second, a hint of pity crosses her features. “i'm fine, ems,” you say, “i'll make myself some wine and devour a marathon of how to get away with murder.”

emily narrows her eyes. maybe her idea of ​​saturday night is very different from yours, but in the end, she decides to give up. you listen to her heels become more and more inaudible until it is only silence and you.

you fall into bed touchless. looking at the ceiling contemplating your decisions. the sweet torture of maybes and perhaps invades you until you decide to shake them away like an annoying mosquito and head toward the kitchen. emily has taken the wine. you stare at the nearly empty fridge, cursing for declining the offer to get drunk until you lose consciousness and wallow with some handsome guy. your saturday can't be going worse.

a half-empty bottle of vodka lies on the fridge door, and you examine your chances and possibilities. there is always the option of going for liquor at 12 in the morning at the nearest supply, but honestly, you don't feel like doing it. so the bottle will suffice. not enough to get you drunk but enough to dull the chest pain that has been oppressing you since last night came to an end, and you find yourself collecting stars on the ceiling of your room while imagining him having fun with his friends, going out to a party, enjoying without you. maybe finding a girl and falling in love again, while you can't move on, pathetic, trapped, and sunk in the melancholy that memories of when he was with you bring to the surface. from when he loved you.

when it chimes 3 in the morning, you can't take it anymore. the bottle of vodka has run out even before its time, and your head feels light, so light that you feel like you can float. you change into used jeans and a sweatshirt before heading for the exit, but stop and think better of it, approaching the bathroom. the reflection is pitiful, fixing it is almost useless but you still try. feeling that no effort will give results, looking again in the mirror and looking the same or even worse. you give up very quickly, and by the time you want to rethink it again, you find yourself on the street.

a thousand and one thoughts swarm in your head. random images appear like shooting stars across your vision, are you crying? you do not know. the lethargy of the liquor does not let you think clearly. yes, you can blame it on that, when you find yourself in front of the mahogany door of his apartment. knuckles suspended in the air, debating. to go or to stay. the heaviness settles in the pit of your stomach and suddenly you are twenty again. a younger you, smiling, having friends, enjoying fleeting youth. finding love, falling in love, a guy with a blurry face smiles at you until his features harden, and you don't know why. suddenly the shell rises. and you feel like breaking his heart, but he's breaking yours. you don't know anything other than the unknown and dangerous feeling that consumes you, so you decide to end it before it finishes you. and you never look back.

but now you do. and there is no return from this point when your hands finally touch the wood. noises are heard from the other side, and you freeze. footsteps are heard in crescendo and a chill runs down your spine. the door opens, and suddenly all the words you know are gone.

donghyuck looks at you without revealing any emotion. shocked maybe? he doesn't say anything for an eternity, or a minute, no one knows. drinking in the presence of the other, assuring you that it is real. “hello.” your mouth feels dry, and swallowing is useless. “yn…” says your name, and you go back in the past when pronouncing your name caused warmth in your stomach. now the only thing that causes you is gagging. the guilt sits in your stomach, and it's unpleasant. “forgive me.” the prayer leaves your mouth before you can stop it, and a sob accompanies it. you see donghyuck suppresses a pitying frown before your vision blurs. you muffle the sound with the exterior of your hand, unable to meet his eyes, suddenly feeling his touch on your shoulders, slide down your back and draw you in. but not toward him. restlessness makes your mind have a lucid moment, suddenly observing his dark hair fall on his forehead, soaked, with small beads of water falling to the ground. you realize that he is entirely naked, except for the towel around his waist. “shit, i'm sorry.” there are no traces of the nostalgia to see him again, now replaced by the shame of having interrupted him while he was bathing. perhaps he expected it to be someone else, considering that he must have interrupted his bath to answer the door. “don't be,” he murmurs, modestly.

“not seriously. i must have interrupted you.”

“i was almost done.”

again, the silence begins to grow between your bodies, taking more and more space in the small room of their apartment, suffocating any opportunity to prevent it.

“did you expect…?”

“are you okay?” you talk at the same time. “of course,” you lie, and he nods. “how about you?” questions. “i'm doing fine,” he answers simply. you watch his fingers comb his wet hair out of sight, revealing that she looked at you first.

but you're not feeling well, are you? you haven't been well for a long time, but you've managed to avoid thinking about it because if you did, you'd say confessions that won't go anywhere. that they will be lost somewhere in his mind and that they would not make any change. talking won't improve anything.

so you're not okay. you haven't been since you didn't have him, but saying so would be selfish, and you care more that he is, because today is his birthday, and the thought of knowing that he's feeling horrible completely breaks you. “donghyuck…” the words burn in your throat, “don't say anything,” he begs, “it's okay,” he assures, but you shake his head. i didn't know you wanted me there, so i didn't go," you finished.

the confession hangs in the air, weighing, debating.

“it's okay,” he reassures, “you're here now, you don't have to apologize anymore.” and although forgiveness was supposed to give you a truce, it ends up making you feel worse. it eats you up inside, like a black hole that devours everything in its path. feeding on the dark places, until there is nothing left but an empty shell. donghyuck drags you to the surface as his icy hands hover over yours, and you look back in thanks. his eyes seem to say “you're welcome” when he looks at you.

and you can't help it.

you kiss him.

his cold hands begin to acclimate to your warmth as they run over your arms and back. fervent. unable to leave them alone. your fingers are buried in his wet hair, a sigh falling from his lips when you caress his nape. devouring the existence of the other, hungry tongues wanting to savor the other, the feeling of not having enough until you cannot melt your bodies...

donghyuck directs your steps blindly. his mouth still on yours. his soft lips being bitten and caressed by your tongue, the little sounds he lets loose dying in your throat. your back hits a hard surface, drawing you a surprised gasp. the reaction only causes the collision of your tongues when they meet, melting your insides and taking your breath away. you move away to catch your breath, even caressing the boy's hair, who wastes no time running his tongue around your neck. your hands travel to his bare, slightly damp shoulders, before sliding down her veiny arms, and back up.

his face hides in the crook of your neck, sucking and kissing your skin, releasing a thousand explosives into your senses, before his hands separate you from the wall and take you with him to his room. your shoes are lost somewhere along the way, your sweatshirt is stripped from your body by his hands, breaking the kiss only to remove it over your head, before attacking your mouth again.

your hands run over the smooth skin of his chest and back, letting yourself be carried away by him while you kiss him with the same fervor as he does. “let me…” your eyes open when you no longer feel movement, and your feet stop on the cold surface of the tiles. his eyes flicker between yours and your waist. your gaze moves down, where her body is hidden only by a towel wrapped around her waist. you nod, dry-mouthed, finally looking up at him. giving him the permission he shouldn't ask for. leaving chaste kisses on your mouth while his hands go towards your pants, and yours towards his, helping him to remove the garment, which falls heavily on the floor.

the kiss deepens as his hands wrap around your waist, circling his thumbs, working his way down to your butt, feeling the skin, squeezing.

your hands go to the cloth that covers his masculinity, stopping you momentarily, as donghyuck pushes you against him. you feel the bulge in your lower belly, pressing against the towel. donghyuck makes you press against him, letting out a strangled groan. you swear that your interior tightens. foreheads brushing as your hands finally undo the towel from her waist, and her hands slide your underwear down, both falling to the floor, taking a backseat. his hand goes up your back, until it finds the clasp of your bra, taking it off with an agile movement, while all his attention is on your mouth.

his hands run through your body carelessly, as if all his judgment had been removed along with the towel on the floor, leaving only the primitive and lustful desire inhibited by his morality. taking your chest in his hand while another does not allow you to move away from his body, resting on your butt. leaving all the control of the kiss in you, the way you want it to be, how long you want it to be, how deep and violent can be.

pushing his hip against you, stimulating his erection against your stomach. “shall we go back to the shower?” he questions between kisses his eyes remain closed, and something inside you stirs because you fear that he does not want to look at you. hiding from your gaze, he presses you against himself. “yeah.” his voice is hoarse and guilt-ridden. and yet knowing it, you can't just walk away and leave it. you can not. because you are selfish.

your lips attack his neck while he detaches himself from your body to open the shower and regulate the temperature. when he comes back to you, he pins you against the wall and kisses you, as if the episode from a while ago hadn't happened. you caress her temples and pull away. “are you okay?” you ask. his lips leave little kisses on your wrists. “of course.” his eyes finally look at you. there is nothing more in them than warmth.

“are you okay with me here?” you want to ask. will he say yes? will he be quiet? you want to know if he wants you with the same intensity that you want him. if the ghost of you still remains in him like his ghost in you, tormenting you every second you spend without being with him. is he okay here with you? you hope so from the way he kisses you and moans, that he thought of you at least once while he was with someone else.

and it's the only thing that matters. not the selfish being, or the most horrible person in the world. or feel like shit for knowing that the one who put you in this situation was yourself. that asking you if he wants you there with him is totally your fault, and that both of you feel miserable is caused by you. but it does not matter. while kissing you, your mind forgets everything. there is no room for the suffering that oppresses your chest, the guilt that eats you inside each time there are these encounters, the emptiness that lets you know that you are no longer his. without realizing it, you are crying. but donghyuck doesn't realize it; the shower hides the tears, and your sobs turn to moans as his leg settles between yours, moving it against your core.

you grind against him in a swing of the hips. your hands down his chest to his stomach, where his cock hits goosebumps. encircling your hand the length of it, you move up and down his member, stopping at the tip to touch it. donghyuck grits his teeth at the sensitivity, but doesn't ask you to stop. his hand goes to your hips to move more enthusiastically on his smooth thigh. the subtle movement makes you gasp, moving your hand in time with his movements. stopping without warning and replacing his leg with his fingers, nimble and careful, making you moan with each movement. stirring in sync with his fingers but not getting enough of him. “let me stretch you out a bit, mmm?” he whispers. his fingers send lightning bolts throughout your bloodstream. blood heating up, heart beating faster. your eyes flutter at the precise movements of his digits, knowing exactly where to touch, what place makes you moan, what place makes you close your eyes, what place makes you clench your legs because the sensation overwhelms you.

your hand works with pauses on his cock due to the effect he has on you, and you know how frustrating it must be feeling not to be able to concentrate, so you move his body away from you. “only you,” you say, catching your breath and beginning to long for his touch. you see him frown in disagreement and open his mouth to retort, but you stop him.

“i want to make you feel good.”

“okay.” his lips come back to yours, but this time, his hands remain on your hip. your fingers wrap around his penis, beginning to pound the length with great care. his neck is exposed as his head is pulled back, lips letting out guttural sounds as you fuck him with your hand. eyes devouring his expressions, his angular features contracting with pleasure, eyes narrowed by the incredible sensation of your hands working on his cock. your gaze moves to his cock. of a reddish tone and with pearls of precum in the cleft. and you find yourself fantasizing about running your tongue down the length, tasting it, getting it into your mouth. but you don't; it's too intimate. and it's not up to you to do it.

“what's going through your mind?” donghyuck wants to know. his eyes seek yours through the curtain of tears. your hands work faster and he seems to forget for a moment, letting out a moan that sounds like longing to you. “shit,” he says, finding your mouth and kissing it with wild excitement. “oh…o—oh fuck, nabi, don't stop.” your hand working fervently on his cock, with circular movements at the tip, occasionally brushing the slit with drops of pre-cum. donghyuck lets out another guttural moan before he cums into your hand. thick and hot semen, which bathes your hand and falls almost immediately on the tiles. watching him narrow his eyes when your hands linger longer on him, knowing exactly when to stop. donghyuck hisses at the sharp sensation coursing through his penis as your movements slow and stop.

you finish bathing and drying off as if the minutes were running out, as if the fire of desire could be extinguished now that they have come far.

his body is sprawled on the edge of the mattress, wide eyes watching every move you make as you climb onto him. kisses are left everywhere, stomach, arms, breasts, chest, neck, jaw, but never on your lips. kissing the skin of his temple, feeling him direct his member towards your pussy, already longing for him. slipping like silk from how wet you are. feeling it fill you inside, pleasantly. “o—oh,” you groan. the sensation overwhelms all your senses, making it impossible to contain the swing of your hips. donghyuck throws his head back, eyes closing and mouth parting to let out moans and gasps, feeling his penis being engulfed by the gummy walls of your tight pussy, hearing the sounds of your cunt sloshing every time their hips come together, every time you collide with him.

rhythmic and enveloping movements, moans intertwining in the hot air generated by your bodies on fire. consumed by desire drowned out by unspoken words. just letting yourself be carried away by the fiery feeling you feel for each other from day one.

donghyuck feels so good inside you that you can't help but speed up your thrusts. take it all sight blurring and darkening with the desire to see him demolish under your body. feel a tingling in the stomach knowing that it is you who has put him like that. a mess, a bunch of grunts and broken words. his hips meeting yours from time to time, unable to contain himself, wanting more of you, to feel full. hands gripping skin, pushing you against him when the sensation is overwhelming and clouding your senses. “shit, hyuck.” your face contracts when you feel the knot tightening your insides.

uncontrollable gasps gush out of your mouth, followed by his name. again and again. fascinated by the way you look, fucking him, moving like that on top of him, looking so masterful and heavenly, his gaze darkens with desire and becomes heavy. “o-oh, yn. you're going to kill me.” your hips relentlessly rocking on his cock, hands locked behind your back as he decides to take over, and thrust into you, tensing your body as much as you can to hold still as he fucks you, so good. dropping you at the last second as you finally release yourself on top of him, collapsing in spasms as his movements become more jerky and clumsy, finally coming a second time. pulling his cock out and spilling his seed on the skin of your ass, feeling his hand milk his cock into you.

nothing is heard except your heavy breathing and the gear of your thoughts as you ponder what has just happened.

he leaves for a few seconds for his clothes, still together on the bathroom floor, and returns with a cloth that you use to clean his load from your skin. dressing without exchanging words. saying anything else as you leave. he doesn't stop you. and something breaks inside you because you let him go for the second time.

you don't know how you get to your building, but it's already dawn. the vodka hasn't been enough to get you drunk but to leave an annoying sharp pain somewhere in your head. you rub your eyes from not having slept at all, looking in your pockets for the key to the apartment, but it's not necessary.

jisung looks at you with slight surprise to see you there in the corridor. “we just arrived,” he says. you have never been close enough to greet each other or ask how the other has been. simple conversations that provide the required information. “i was walking around.” he nods, and you don't know if he believed you because you hardly know him. you see him around campus with his friends, and sometimes in the library, but you don't come over to say hi; you ignore each other's existence most of the time, except when he comes by from time to time for emily, but nothing more. you look at each other and decide that it is time to say goodbye, bowing your heads so slightly that there is hardly any movement. you walk into the apartment once you see him disappear down the elevator, ready to brush your teeth and head off to college in twenty minutes, but stopping when you feel emily's presence in the living room.

she makes no more noise than when she blows her snot. she's wearing a jacket you haven't seen her wear before, so you assume it belongs to the guy who left a few minutes ago. her silhouette is hunched over and she does not look at you despite knowing that you are there. you make threats to withdraw because clearly, you don't know how to comfort anyone, but her voice stops you. “he didn't even look at me. not once."

“i am sorry to hear that.” her gaze drifts from the carpeted floor to look at you. bloodshot eyes from crying until she had run out of another tear. “love suck, doesn't it? you seem to know that” she says, hinting how you never bring boys to the apartment like her. finally getting up from the couch, and coming over to you. you think, for a second, that she's going to hug you, so you freeze there, waiting for it to happen, but it doesn't. “love's not supposed to hurt. we have to let it go, right?” and even though your past actions led you exclusively to the opposite end of her words, you nod and agree with her.

yes, you have to know how to let go.

εїз

you rub your eyes and stare disoriented at the numbers shining on the phone screen. “hello?” you don't know who can possibly be calling you at this hour, still lethargic from your interrupted sleep, you look at the clock that marks two in the morning. “eh! yn.” emily's voice comes over the cell phone. “were you sleeping?” she asks, and even though you don't want to show your irritation, it comes naturally. “yes, emily. others like to sleep at two in the morning sometimes.” but she only laughs, revealing that she's drunk.

“jisung's with you?” you wonder, preoccupied. “no, i lost him. i borrowed a phone. hey! but since you're awake,” she says over the music. “can you check if i left my phone in my bedroom?”

“fuck no!” you complain, exhaling. “i have to get up early tomorrow, ems. i'm sure you can live a little without your phone.” you wait for a response, but she already hangs up.

you go back to bed, ready to fall asleep again but unable to do so. tossing and turning in bed, thinking about emily, worried that something might happen to her. you couldn't live knowing that something had occurred to her because of you. cursing as you get up and grab any piece of clothing within reach, before leaving for the party where she is.

at the time you arrive, it's four in the morning. another day without having proper sleep, accumulating sleepless nights like a collection of your own. passing through people you don't know and that you are sure you need to remember from classes you attend. you find jisung smoking with his friends, approaching him when you don't see emily around. “where is she?” you ask, seeing the smoke he let out of his mouth before answering, and even though he doesn't say it, you know he thinks you're so hypocritical. “probably inside.” you give him a last look before heading inside the house.

your eyes scan all the faces, looking for emily, but you don't find her. instead, you come across the mirage of a tattoo adorning the back of a boy's neck through the sea of people. with his back to you, he seems to be chatting with someone. and you can't physically stand there any longer. forgetting about emily for a moment, debating whether it's worth it or not.

you turn on your heels, jolting by a body colliding with yours, which shakes you out of your conjectures. you come out of your inertia ready to mumble an apology and get the hell out of there before he sees you, but you are stopped by his hand when it lands on your waist without warning. you look, surprised, stupefied, and annoyed at the boy who swigs a bottle of whiskey. taking a prolonged sip of the liquor while rocking his body from side to side, and consequently, yours as well.

then he looks at you, dumbfounded as you snatch the bottle from him and reach for it. the fire of the liquor runs down your throat and fuels the fire in your stomach, furrowing your eyebrows at the tingle it leaves on your tongue. the boy's clearly drunk, looking at you with awe when you stare at him from below, using his spare hand to grab your chin and smash his lips with yours.

and it's the first time, the weight on your chest is relieved. your mind is silenced, and you're just there, kissing a guy while the music plays through the club speakers. everything clicks for a moment, and you finally understand that you can move on. that there is calm after the storm. but you've spent so much time not knowing it, you've gotten used to it.

his mouth tastes like alcohol and something sweet. and you drown yourself in it, quieting your demons. remembering that you are young, and there is so much to experience. hoping you could stop feeling so miserable when you set foot outside, at the thought of rebuilding your life. that you can find something else. that the world is so big… and your thoughts can be so small, they're almost relevant.

but you can't help but open your eyes. and look at him, across the room. with his lips on the girl. but his eyes on you. you unwillingly break the kiss. “fuck, you're fun to kiss, yn.”

you're about to pass on it and go home. this was a bad idea. you can't do it. but you stop yourself.

because your name on his lips reminds you that you exist.

“how do you know my name?” you ask, stunned. the boy smiles. “science,” he mentions, though it sounds more like a question. an amused smile appears on his face as if he finds it funny that you don't remember him, “we see classes together.” you try to remember his face, in the classroom you deliberately ignore since you're ultimately in your head. “and we hooked up last semester.”

“i'm sorry,” you say, but that only makes me smile more.

“i could have expected it,” he replies, “you're way out of my league.” his confession jolts you out of your lethargy like a punch straight to the stomach. he takes the bottle from your hand and takes a swig, watching your reaction to that information. “you're like… halley's comet.”

“you're hardly ever around, but when you do show up, you're breathtaking,” he admits, even now, knowing you didn't put any effort into your image. even now, being a quarter of what you were before. even now, working at 5%, sunk to shit. he finds you special.

he takes your silence as an answer. his hand now caresses your chin, and you see him move closer. resting his lips on yours, he begins to kiss you. but it doesn't last long, because you break it. “i have to go.”

you curse yourself so much that you lose count. unaware of your surrounding and finding yourself in a pit (that you dig yourself) so deep that you forget what you have come for, rubbing your head because it looks like it is going to burst.

you don't see him approaching. he doesn't say a word, neither do you, when he drags you to his car. bodies colliding against the passenger sit door as his face comes closer.

“you should know by now. i don't share.” eyes amusingly glaring at your lips, part open due to shocked events. his words burning on his lips, marking itself on you. watching him breathe raggedly, his body pressing against yours, showing how angry he is. and yet… hands gently resting on your waist, before your body is dragged with his into the front seat of his car. “wait, what are you doing?” you ask him when he slams the door behind him and goes to the driver seat.

“not doing this with you, donghyuck.”

“you don't get to ignore me all year and then appear at my dorm on my birthday.”

“i thought that's what you wanted.”

“don't be a hypocrite.”

you stare at him with a stunned look. “am i the hypocrite? you are as much to blame as i am.” suddenly letting out the pressure on your chest. finally releasing the explosion that for weeks, months, and years has been taking your sleep away. “you did this to yourself,” he eventually says, and you swear something broke inside.

“you walked away, not me.”

“because you always ruin everything.” his words cut you like knives, and he can even believe he said them out loud, keeping them with him until he couldn't hold them anymore.

“you get scared and shut down because that's all you know: to destroy yourself and others,” he accuses, voice escalating in intensity. “you don't concede for a second that you can have anything good for yourself,” he reveals, finally, that you're not the only one who has suffered. “so all you do right now is ruin us.”

“there is no us,” you lie. “why, because i'm not good enough?” but you don't answer, you couldn't. because you never renounce each other. but your silence is taken as something else, something that you don't clear out because you're both interrupted. your phone rings and both pair of eyes glance at the unknown number, but you know who's calling.

“don't answer.” donghyuck voice is only a whisper, but you can sense what he hides underneath: a promise. but you do exactly the opposite, because you need to know. now that you're sincere with one another, there's no going back. but you can only make it if you know she's safe.

“ems, where are you?”

εїз

bodies crashing and stumbling into each other like a hurricane taking everything in its path. hands everywhere, grasping, holding as if the other would disappear if you didn't show each other enough affection. if you didn't show each other how much you wanted each other, how long you had repressed the urge for your mouths to finally come together.

there is no beginning or end. start or finish of where one ends and the other begins, as you devour your essence, tongues and teeth, sucking, sucking, biting. moans and gasp as the other kiss you just like you wanted, where you touch each other just where you need it. pressing your back at the door, without having stopped kissing since you arrived. but you have to tell him. you must or other way you think you might combust. the confession slips out from your lips in a whisper.

“i'm sorry.”

“i don't want to hear it, yn.” he breathes, chest rising and falling as he breathe erratically. “i missed you, i always will,” you reply, sensing him shake his head. “shut up.”

an eternity in each other's mouths, brushing against each other's bodies, grinding your hips together. showing how much he wants you under his jeans. feeling you damped your underwear just by how he's holding you close to him, as you'd run if he held you a little less aggressively.

your body is removed from the wall and forced to intertwine your legs at his hips as he gracefully lifts you off the ground. his firm hands on your ass trace small circles on your skin while his mouth attacks yours in a kiss that can ignite you if he so desires. “donghyuck.” you are deposited on the floor of his room, donghyuck's lips still on you as he takes off your pants and shirt, leaving you in your underwear. he breaks the kiss to remove his jacket. your hands instinctively go to him, but he grabs your wrists and pulls them away. “please...”

“don't do this to me.” his hands grab your wrist as a way to ease himself. lips in a thin line as your eyes try to meet his gaze, but he shuns you. “you're fucking evil.” his grip tighten in your skin, but you endure it because deep inside you, you know you deserve his rage. when he sees you, a chill runs down your spine with his eyes darkening. “hyuck...”

he kisses you now more eagerly, stopping your words. lust merging into anger. touches more violently, all the repressed emotions finally emerging to the surface. he takes your bra with a quick move of his fingers, while the other hand buries inside your underwear. he hums in bliss to know you're already soaking wet. to know that he doesn't need to stretch you for him, seeing how ready you are to take him. fingers running through your folds before stimulating the swollen bulge of your satisfaction. circling your clit as he holds you close when your legs start to tremble. “lay back and spread your legs.” he stops and removes his fingers from you, and takes off the remaining clothing on you.

you hold up a moan and do as he told, not leaving unnoticed the moment when he puts his fingers in his mouth and tastes you on his tongue. laying on the bed while his eyes, consumed in their entirety by his pupils, watch you like a predator watches its prey. stroking his cock with the view of your glassy cunt. hovering you and pressing the tip at your entrance; you let out a wail.

a sweet ardor runs through you when your walls clenched around his penis, pushing it inside you as his eyes shut close. your legs shut together before his strong grip on one of them forces you to spread them again, holding it against the mattress. “you're constantly on my mind,” he states, rolling his hips just like he knows you love it. “a-and i hate it.” your back arch and your mouth slip out a groan.

he thrust you against the bed with energy. heavy breathing as he fucks you right, with the dose of rage and passion you both need it. hands holding you down while he smashes into you, cock hitting you without clemency as your vision blurs while you reveled from the way his dick stuffs you. legs trembling and cunt palpitating when he stops suddenly.

his cock twitched between your walls as shudders invade you and a choked sob fill the room, right before his hands grab both of your legs and flexed them under his forearms. a pant leaves your mouth when you feel his dick burying deeper as he comes closer to you. hovering you, so now his cold chain hits your face. a tingle runs through your core and stays in your stomach when he speaks. “i want to hurt you.” walls wrapping him and squeezing his cock. “i-i wanna hurt you... —just like you hurt me.” your arms surround his shoulders and pull him closer. a sublime message you're not willing to say. «do it», instead, your eyes filled with tears, even though you can't decide whether it's from his words or the raw desire that washes you.

the muffled sound of your damp cunt every time shoved his cock filled the room, already mixed with your loud and heavy breathing. necklace subtly moving over your nose and forehead with his rough thrust. long-drawn groans at every throb of your pussy, swamped and dissolving into ecstasy.

a fire pools low in your belly, panting and quivering under his weight due to his raw and merciless pounding. translating his hands under your back to arch it so he can plow you deeper, a lashing running through your nerves when it's too much, when he's too much. “stay still.” you roar and tense your body, feeling numb and drunk of his dick finding his way in and out of you.

face contracting and a shiver sweeps him. “f—fuck.” his hand go to his under-shaft, curling his fingers around it. feeling lightwave when his thrust slows its pace and grinning to know that he's so close to cum he needs to stop. “turn around.” he lets you go, pulling out his length, twitching in his grip. creamy precum mixed with your fluids on the tip.

you press your chest on the mattress and lift your butt, resting your weight on your flexed arms, spreading your legs for him. a shaky breath leaves your lips when you feel him push himself back into you. sliding his cock all the way in while his hands look for support on your waist, arching you even more. they're removed once he fixed your position and go to each side of your body, hips meeting with a smash sound. your butt lifting so you can meet his body in the middle. “o-oh, h-yuck.” you swear seeing stars, twinkling in your vision. eyes glued to the headboard that smacks against the wall with every movement of his hips.

donghyuck fucks you harder, til your mind shuts down and you can only let out incoherent sounds. wailing and hissing because it's too much to handle, because he's driving you to the edge and not letting you go. holding yourself back because you don't want it to end. you don't want him to part away from you and left you in the dark again.

you catch every single sound he makes. drinking it, saving it in your memory. lips pressed on your ear, hearing him whining as he slow down the pace. struggling to keep it up longer. his hand going to your clit and starting to rub the sensitive area. your hips unconsciously rock against his fingers, feeling your vision foggy.

“you're mine and no one else's” he says, watching you squirm under his weight. “you belong with me. to me.” your hand reach his and you interlace your fingers while he thrusts you eagerly. with the intensity of your confessions now on each other hearts.

“h-hyuck,” you moan his name, unleashing a shot of sensations through your bloodstream. the truth told. revealed. releasing that pressure on your chest and now replaced with his words, printed in your memory.

“always.”

“always.”

your muscle tenses when you feel a white noise fill your hearing. the sweet sharp burn in your area increase due to donghyuck hitting that sweet spot at every thrust. your mouth part open and your face contract with the pleasurable feeling that washes you over, dissolving you in waves and trembles that shake your whole body. your walls squeeze his cock with every throbing spasm that invades you, while you are left in nothingness, ruined and numb, in the ether. sensing his cock pulsing as he relentlessly pounds into you and suddenly stop before you feel something warm filling you up.

“s—shit.” he hisses, weighting what he just done. yet his cock is still bury in you, as the last drop of his load paint your walls. he had never nut inside you. always making sure to pull it out before he cums.

the sensation is new to you. back pressing his chest as you feel it starting to leak out of you. a little smile of joy invades you, which doesn't go unnoticed by donghuyck, who joins you. hips rolling and grinding on him, hearing the splashing sounds of your glistening pussy wrapping around his length.

the room is filled with silence, while you stand there, intertwined. until you must go to the bathroom. your reflection looks miserable but also satisfied. lightweight. suddenly the fear of what are you going to find behind the door invades you, while a hundred questions blossom within you.

will he ask you to stay?

will he let you go again?

are these ephemeral moments all that remains of you, as you hope to discover in the future that you have always been destined?

when you open the bathroom door, his eyes says it all.

εїз

your presence goes unnoticed while he is with his friends. “why a butterfly, tho?” one of them wants to know. his laughter infects the others, but he only manages to make the boy smile fleetingly. “mark, do you want to leave him alone?” says the girl, caressing his bare neck. “i think it's wonderful and romantic,” she says, “butterflies..., yes, i kinda like them.” but the boy doesn't glance at her. not once.

at the other side of the table, jisung looks at her, but she doesn't look back, instead, her eyes transfer to someone else.

emily sees you yet don't wave at you. she never invites you to join the conversation with his friends. she's kind to you because that's what she's supposed to be to her roommate. but she never talks to you, or offers to take you home, or invites you to parties. not really. not entirely.

so she stare at you before removing her eyes as if she hadn't seen you. joining the conversation once again, brushing donghyuck's hair as a attempt to get his attention. but she never received it.

you force yourself to look away and follow your course, entering the corridors of history at the library. being so self-absorbed and abstracted playing with the chain around your neck, that you hardly feel the touch that his hand makes when he passes by your side. he doesn't stop to look at you. and you don't go after him. instead, you stare at the monarch butterfly on his neck, and the sound of his voice calling you nabi softly, only for you to hear.

#haechan smut #donghyuck smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #haechan x you #♡haechan

[runnning-outof-time]

For your celebration

Love to know what you could come up with for

1. Tommy

2. My sentence is “get ion your knees and beg”

3. Prompt is “I need you”

Kind of thinking that’s is not what it seems at first and it’s Tommy and reader in what might be a serious scene but actually turns into fluff and caring Tommy. Maybe he has caught/kidnapped the reader - she is an enemy but then something changes…….

Hi there! Thanks for sending this in! I hope this is something along the lines of what you were envisioning and that it makes sense - I wasn’t quite able to get fluffy/caring Tommy in there, but I hope the twist will make up for it. I can’t say I’ve written anything like this before, so it may seem a bit out of my wheelhouse. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

Get On Your Knees

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: reader’s been kidnapped, smoking, language, slight season 4 spoilers

Word Count: 1037

Summary: The roles quickly flip once (Y/N) finds out what Tommy wants from her.

“We’ve got her in here, Mr. Shelby,” one of the blinders spoke after two sets of footsteps sounded off of the concrete floor. The voice was muffled, but it was quickly followed by the sound of the door opening. The door to the room that (Y/N) was being held in.

Both sets of footsteps approached the chair she was tied to. They came right up to her and stopped, and silence rang in the room for a few moments before the burlap sack was swiftly pulled off of her head.

The first thing (Y/N) did was smirk, and she titled her head to the side slightly as she looked directly at the man she knew was behind all of this. “I knew it was you,” she couldn’t help but say, a snideness present in her voice.

“There’s no need for you to speak,” Tommy Shelby was brash, but he had no intention of hiding the fact that his eyes were dragging over her frame as he spoke.

“Can you at least untie my hands?” she asked with raised eyebrows, showing him by wriggling her hands against the ropes. “You know I won’t run,” a smirk dancing on her lips as she uttered the final half of her statement.

Tommy raised his eyebrows at her, considering her ask for a moment before he locked eyes with one of his men and nodded his head in the woman’s direction. The blinder wordlessly nodded before hastily moving over and going about undoing the restraints. (Y/N) kept her eyes locked with Tommy while this was being done, watching as he lit a cigarette.

Nothing was said until (Y/N)’s hands were freed. She immediately crossed her arms over her chest and set her one knee atop the other, relaxing back into the chair she’d been bound to with a smirk. “Tell me your plan,” she said to him then, her chin raising slightly.

He kept his eyes on her as he took a drag from his cigarette. The smoke slowly billowed out from his lips before he spoke, “I need you.”

“That’s not a surprise,” (Y/N) couldn’t help but interject with a snort, “you didn’t need to kidnap me for that though. A simple call would have sufficed.”

“I need you to help me gather intel,” Tommy continued without commenting on her interjection.

“On who?”

“The person who’s come to kill my family.”

“And that would be?”

Tommy just stared at her. (Y/N) stared back. The silence held for a few moments before it became apparent to her that he wasn’t going to give the answer she was looking for right away.

“Are you aware of how many enemies you’ve made, Tommy Shelby?” she questioned him, her eyebrows raised. The question made him finally break eye contact with her as he shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“Luca Changretta,” he gave the name in a low voice.

“Hmm?” she asked for him to repeat it.

“Luca Changretta’s come to kill my family. He’s issued a black hand…a vendetta,” he gave more information this time.

“Luca Changretta? As in the sweet, old Mrs. Changretta’s son? What have you done to aggravate him, Tommy?” (Y/N) quirked an eyebrow, a dramtic tinge of shock present in her voice as she looked at him with wide eyes.

“It’s a long story,” he brushed her off.

“I’ve got all day for you to tell it to me…” she insisted, tipping her head to the side slightly, “…I mean, it’s the least you can do…since you’ve cancelled my plans. Unless you’ve got other things in mind,” she finished, biting her lip to conceal her grin.

“I need you to help me gather intel on where he and his men are…on what they’re planning,” Tommy once again ignored her comments, preferring to stick with the topic at hand.

“Get on your knees and beg me then,” she demanded, her grin quickly getting replaced by a stoic look. She caught the subtle shift in his expression, and this made her grin return. She caught him off-guard. “Go on…show me how much you need me, Tommy.”

Tommy stared at her for a few moments, blinking several times in disbelief as he waited for her to go back on what she’d just said. But she stayed silent and kept her expectant gaze focused on him.

It wasn’t until his knees started to bend that she erupted with laughter. This response made Tommy freeze, confusion washing over his features.

“You were actually going to fucking do it,” she got out between her laughs, “the all powerful Tommy Shelby was just about to get on his knees and beg for me to help him.”

Tommy said nothing, his jaw now slack as (Y/N) stood from the chair and walked over to stand toe to toe with him. She looked him over, a pleased look present on her face before she spoke once again.

“You must be deep in it now, huh? Asking the woman you swore you’d keep out of business for help,” she spoke in a low voice.

“Will you help me?” he asked, still wanting to steer clear of her games, although his response to her previous request made it apparent that he’d already been sucked in.

“You see, we need each other, Tommy…” she paused before she moved even closer to him, making it so that not much space was between their bodies, “we need each other, but not in the same way.”

A smirk formed on her face as she finished the statement, and she stepped away from him without waiting for a response. Tommy watched as she walked to the door and banged on it twice. The man standing guard opened it, but he didn’t let (Y/N) out right away. Instead, he looked to Tommy, waiting for some sort of command…one that never came.

“The meeting is finished. Let me out,” (Y/N) insisted, quickly becoming impatient.

The man took one last look at his boss before he did as the woman said, opening the door wider so that she could exit the room. And she did, without uttering one more word.

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

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby blurb #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #k’s 3.5k celebration

[seelestia]

If you really want to write something for me (crab 🦀) then how about some Kaveh fluff because he is way to relatable right now, especially in my current situation (doesn’t have to be though, I didn’t expect you to want to write something for me so get a bit creative with it lol) 🦀 🦀 🦀

— 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐲 & 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐲.

SUMMARY. when you offer a friend a suggestion on how to increase his efficiency, you don't expect your intimacy for him would also increase alongside it. (he doesn't expect it too.) (1.5k+ words)

CHARACTERS. kaveh + GN!reader.

GENRE. fluff, angst with comfort, friends to ??? (when ur friend starts looking a lil too good for some reason...).

CW. references to kaveh's backstory, implications of crying and stress (kaveh our beloved <//3), reader wears reading glasses (cool stuff) and rambles abt naps.

THOUGHTS. ik all kaveh simps and kinnies want to give him a hug, so here you go! i cherish him vv much. to 🦀 anon, let's just treat this as like your commissioning me in a way (i hope this ficlet is alright?? i'm rusty hhhhh) ♡

✰ masterlist.

"Ughhhhhh."

So, the rumors amongst the people of the Akademiya are true, after all; that there can never be a silence that lasts too long when a certain man with blond hair is present.

"Gahhhhhh."

For someone who is still at the prime of his life, KAVEH sure looks like he has already aged a hundred years in the span of a single night. But according to the people at the Akademiya, this occurrence is nothing out of the ordinary and as someone who has known him for years, you can absolutely concur with them.

With a hand on his temple and a heavy sigh that weighs a thousand troubles, there is no other way for the blond male to express his frustration besides verbal means — and to that, too, you are a witness sitting across from him on the table.

Guess that's just the price you have to pay for agreeing to help him when he begged you yesterday. According to him, your "job description" is just to stop him from dozing off because a deadline from a client of his is nearing way too quickly for his liking.

Thus, here you are — watching him do his work while you do your own work on a table at his place (or more precisely, his room in Alhaitham's place but you don't want Kaveh to fly into a fit of rage).

"My head hurts," Kaveh groans.

"Because you've stared at that blueprint for hours now," you answer.

"My back hurts too," he complains again.

"Because you haven't changed your position ever since we started sitting," you retort again.

If anyone were to ask for some sort of proof about the frequency of Kaveh's grumbles, the fact that you could respond so naturally and quickly while barely taking your gaze off the documents spread out in front of you, as if you've done this so many times before (which you have), would have sufficed.

"[Y/N]," Kaveh calls your name in a dramatic whine, "You're supposed to sympathize with me...!" But you don't find the need to look up from your paper when you can almost feel the pout forming on his lips already.

It isn't as if you don't want to empathize with him, but that sight of his pout happens to be quite adorable — does it count as being mean if you want him to keep it on for a bit longer? Ha, what a strange feeling.

"Then, why don't you take a nap?" you give him a suggestion as you look up to spare your colleague a glance, "I'll wake you up in about 20 minutes or so."

That look of hesitance on Kaveh's face makes you raise an eyebrow. "Sounds tempting, but are you sure doing that wouldn't waste more time instead of saving it?" the man tilts his head questioningly with a frown as if he is unsure of the right answer himself.

"Idiot," you blurt out.

Thank goodness the circumference of the table isn't wide enough to interrupt your movements as you put down your reading glasses and reach out to pull on Kaveh's cheek gently. He, as the one on the receiving end, doesn't think the gesture is as gentle as it looks though.

"Hey! Ouch, ouch—" Kaveh cries out a little yelp that is a perfect representation of his surprise. "Let me ask you this," you release his cheek from your grasp and he expresses gratitude to the Dendro Archon like never before while you continue, "Why do you think you've been staring at that blueprint without being able to function properly?"

"Uh, umm," he stammers, "...Because I feel tired, maybe?" Again, he sounds unsure of himself but that is most likely because you've shaken off half of his brain cells by pinching his cheek just now. Fortunately, judging by that satisfied expression on your face, he seems to have gotten it right.

"Good," you nod approvingly, "Naps have been proven to provide relaxation, reduce fatigue, and increase alertness. The most optimal time for adults is between 10 to 20 minutes."

Kaveh listens to you intently, but that dumbfounded look he has on almost says otherwise. Noticing this, you decide to feign an aura of seriousness as you add, "I was being generous when I offered to wake you up after 20 minutes, by the way. I could've set it to 10 minutes instead."

"You're ruthless," he gapes.

"So, are you going to take a nap or not?" you stifle a giggle.

"Seems like that's the best option I have right now," your dear friend can only shrug his shoulders defeatedly. In order to prepare for his nap, Kaveh sets aside the blueprint he has previously spent hours working on and neatly folds his arms on top of the table.

"Sleeping on a desk isn't very comfy but it'll do," he heaves out an exhausted sigh. Not even one second into placing his head atop his folded arms, he is already missing the softness of his bed back at home — but he can't really complain, so he closes his eyes in silence despite the slight discomfort.

You observe, picking up the disgruntled noises Kaveh makes as he shifts around to find the right position to lay his head. This quiet moment where your banters with him finally die down is when you can truly see the burdens weighing upon his shoulders and your gaze can't help but soften.

Despite how empathetic he appears or how his dramatic antics always elicit a laugh out of others, you know Kaveh really has been through a lot — and you wonder if you didn't suggest he take a nap, would he have neglected his health to do more in a state of low efficiency? Does he often allow himself some time to rest like this?

"You're really tired, aren't you?" your voice lowers into a soft murmur.

"...Yeah," his answer comes out quieter than your question.

"Deadlines are killing me. I know it's meant to help me be organized and all," you see how he opens his eyes to glance at the blueprint mere inches away from his face, "But right now, it's putting more pressure on me than anything."

Kaveh exhales another drained sigh, "And I still have my debts to worry about too. God, when will this all end..." His voice eventually trails off into an evident crack like he is about to choke, "So many things at once, I feel like it's all crashing on me..."

Your heart clenches. He's about to cry, you note.

"Hey," you speak tenderly. "Don't frown so hard, it'll make your head hurt more," you extend your hand to rub soothingly at the deepening frown on his forehead with your thumb. "Oh, s-sorry," his lips try their best not to tremble when he lets that apology slip, but you're not here to scold him.

"Even if it all comes crashing down on you, you'll be able to push them all off eventually, right? One at a time," you say as you rub a few more circles on his forehead to soothe his headache. You're not certain on how he'd receive your words, so you purse your lips with a tinge of reluctance, "Even now, you're still working on it, aren't you? Don't beat yourself up for not reaching your goal when you're still in the process. That's not fair to yourself."

There is a moment of silence before you hear a series of sniffles. "Curses..." he mumbles with a pathetic chuckle, "Look at me, putting this all on you when I'm supposed to be taking a nap." Just as you're about to shake your head in denial, Kaveh's eyes flicker to meet yours — and you're momentarily stunned by how they look.

Mesmerizing irises in the color of red stare back at you; they're glassy as if a single touch would make them ripple and a dam of tears will burst from it, yet filled with unspoken gratefulness.

"And... thanks for saying that," he smiles, "It's been a while since people actually took my problems seriously, s-so um, shoot—" Darn it, his tongue just has to mess up at the worst timing! Kaveh picks himself back up with a small cough, "Uh, anyway, what I was about to say is that it means a lot to me... So, thank you."

He peers at you worriedly after finishing his words, concerned that you'll laugh at him instead. But rather than a laugh, he is met with the softest smile and Kaveh swears— he swears that his heart has never thumped this hard before. Never ever.

"I'm glad," you say and suddenly, he feels oddly exposed underneath your gaze. He has always been more used to your sterner yet caring side; so, this gentleness of yours is sending inexplicable warmth rushing through his veins.

Oh no.

How is he supposed to sleep now?

Then, comes the sensation of something in his hair and Kaveh winces before registering the fact that it's actually your fingers that are combing through his hair. The shock easily fades into relaxation and he lets out a sigh of contentment, "That feels nice."

"Should I stop?" you ask.

"N-no," his hand grabs onto your wrist almost desperately as if keeping it in place. "Keep going... please," Kaveh utters the last word so meekly you almost mistake it for a whisper.

You smile to yourself.

"Sleep well, Kav."

Perhaps, you uttered those words with more love and newfound affection for him than you realize.

And maybe he, too, realizes the same.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─

✰ TAGLIST: @meimeimeirin @hcikazu @tsuk4sa-yug1 @catcze @semi-orangeapple @yuuki4646 @d-a-r-k-s-w-a-n @daisydkj @omgscaramouche @coquettemaiden @lemontum @herdrops @lleoll @xiaosonlybeloved @chiisananingen @irethepotato @ainescribe @blooodyvampy @starlightaura @jihyuniepark @duhsies @maybemiko @lordbugs @sakkaku-squared @lupicalbestwolf — [ bolded names are unable to be tagged because of url changes or visibility settings + register here to be a part of my taglist! ]

© SEELESTIA, may 2023. do not repost, plagiarize, translate nor claim as your own.

#genshin x reader #kaveh x reader #genshin x you #kaveh x you #genshin fluff #kaveh fluff #genshin scenarios #genshin imagines #genshin fanfic #genshin headcanons #seelestial.inks

[wooataes]

Real Eyes, Fake Lies (Part Five)

Pairing: soulmate!Lee Jihoon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: angst, Hanahaki AU, swearing, tooth rotting fluff, Jihoon is a tsundere and his emotions are all over the place, tears, mentions of bleach (for hair dye)

Summary: What do you do when you find out the one person that was created by the universe to be yours doesn’t want you back?

A/N: Thank you all for the ongoing love for my story! I cant thank you all enough for wanting more 🫶🏼 a special thanks to my gals Zan and Jess for helping me pretty much plan the whole story with me and wanting more always 🩷

-Tae💜✨🥰

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Jihoon stirs with a low groan, his eyes fluttering open as he blindly reaches for his phone. He winces at the bright screen displaying ‘03:12’ at him, the sounds of seven of his ten friends (plus his unwanted soulmate) sleeping around him.

He rubs at his eyes as he spots 3 unread messages, a small smile lining his lips as he skims over them.

Ji-ah 🖤: I’m sorry again I couldn’t be there with you, baby. 💕 I hope you’re having a good time!

Ji-ah 🖤 sent a photo

Ji-ah 🖤: guess what!! Unnie asked me to be her Maid of Honor! 😍

Jihoon smiles at the photo his girlfriend sent; an invitation from Ji-ah’s older sister officially asking her to be the Maid of Honor for her upcoming wedding, including a singular red rose and a pretty bracelet.

Jihoon truly didn’t mind how much time Ji-ah spent with her family. Almost every weekend she would travel to spend it with them, and he knew this. He sometimes would join her, but unlike his girlfriend, he enjoyed using his personal time to recharge from being social all week. Being an only child, for Jihoon, works out perfectly for his personality. He spends his time with his friends and girlfriend during the week, and his weekends usually recovering and recharging his social battery. Of course, Ji-ah and his friends were the exception, a small fondness having built up in his heart for his little circle of friends. He didn’t really know the close bond of a sibling, but doesn’t ignore the fact it must be like no other, considering how close Ji-ah is with her siblings, and how close you are with Seungcheol.

He reaches up to quickly type an excited congratulations for his girlfriend, with a ‘miss you’ and ‘can’t wait to see you’ thrown in. He doesn’t know why, but typing that out with his soulmate so close makes him feel a little bit sick.

Three different sets of voices can be heard from the kitchen, the only source of the light in the house filtering into the living room where the guests slept for the night. It catches Jihoon’s attention as he starts to focus on the conversation.

“Y/N.” His best friend’s voice is soft but can be easily heard from Jihoon’s position in the living room, your name piquing his interest.

“Yes, Soonyoung.” You reply back in a monotone voice. Jihoon’s eyes wander around the sleeping bodies to spot Soonyoung’s soulmate curled up on a mattress, arm draped over a pillow to suffice for his cuddle buddy not being there.

“I know you’ve said it before…” he sounds serious, and you heave a heavy sigh. “But… would you love me if I turned into a worm?”

Jihoon scoffs quietly, shaking his head at the silly question. Of course Soonyoung would ask that.

“Oh yes,” You reply back enthusiastically. “I would make up a little enclosure for you, and make sure you get enough sunlight to grow big and strong.”

“Really?” Soonyoung sounds excited.

“No.” You deadpan, resulting in a loud gasp of betrayal from Soonyoung, and a loud giggle erupting from the third voice, your brother.

Jihoon couldn’t help it. He cracked a smile as he now stared at the ceiling, listening quietly to the others in the next room.

“Whyyyyyy?” Soonyoung whined, and by the sounds you make, Jihoon assumes that his best friend has tried to cuddle up to you. “You know I would do it for you!”

“Do I?” You hum, swatting at his arm. “Hop off you giant oaf, you’ll get it on your clothes.”

“Oh please,” he scoffs. “Like I haven’t dealt with bleach before.

Bleach? Jihoon balk’s, pursing his lips in confusion.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Your brother asks Soonyoung.

“Nothing good ever comes out of 3am sleep deprived choices, y’know.” You remind your friend.

“That didn’t stop you both from putting it on your scalps, so you’re just as bad as I am, if not worse!” Jihoon can tell that Soonyoung is flailing his arms around as he speaks. He knows him too well.

“Yah!” You bark back, your soulmate chuckling softly as he hears you swat Soonyoung, resounding a loud yelp. “You peer pressured us, you fiend!”

“Nah, you did it because you loooooove me!” He sings, making loud kissy noises.

“Yah!” Your brother barks now, another smack and yelp resounding in the room. You and your brother are definitely similar, that’s for sure. “Don’t tease my sister, you little gremlin!”

“Wah…” Soonyoung gasps, pressing a hand over his chest. “Betrayed by my favourite hyung…”

“Ooh, don’t let Hannie-Oppa hear.” You giggled as a timer rings out. “Okay, we gotta wash it out.” After a brief pause, you click your fingers. “Are you gonna help?! You got us into this mess!”

“Don’t yell at me!” Soonyoung whines, but when the three of you all start giggling, Jihoon lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He blinks slowly with a soft yawn, letting sleep take over him once again.

When Jihoon wakes next, he groans as he shields his eyes, the morning sunlight filtering into the living room as Soonyoung pushes the curtains open.

“Are you sure she isn’t in her room?” Jeonghan calls out again from the bottom of the staircase.

“I’ve looked three times already!” Your brother shouts back, his heavy footsteps stomping through the house. “She’s not here, I don’t know how long she’s been gone but we need to go-”

“Hyung, it’s alright. All of her things are still here.” Soonyoung calls back as Jihoon sits up, leaning his head back against the headrest of the couch, rubbing at his eyes.

“What’s going on?” Jihoon yawns.

“Y/N isn’t here.” Wonwoo replies, running his fingers through a half asleep Mingyu’s hair, head nestled sleepily against his shoulder.

Jihoon’s eyes widen as he glances at your brother, who’s once long black locks last night were now dyed a bleached platinum white, disheveled from running his fingers through it constantly. Jeonghan, bless his soul, reaches out to pat at his soulmate’s hair to calm him down.

“I’m sure she has just gone for a morning walk, hyung.” Seokmin tries to rationalize, smiling sleeplily. “You know she likes to do that.”

“I don’t know.” He grumbles, his arms taking solace around his soulmate’s waist to stop him from fidgeting. “Last time we couldn’t find her…”

Jihoon frowns as he remembers Seokmin’s words from the fateful day he figured out you were soulmates. Surely you wouldn’t be that silly to run away again.

“Hyung, don’t freak out.” Soonyoung smiles, patting Seungcheol’s shoulder. “Really. You don’t need to get so worked up. She’s grown a lot since all those years ago. I know she wouldn’t leave without any notice.”

“Who wouldn’t leave?” Your voice fills the room, and everyone’s heads all spin to you with wide eyes.

You’re walking through the hallway in a pair of blue faded jeans with rips in the knees paired with a large oversized black hoodie, pulling out and placing your AirPods into their case with one hand and placing a large plastic bag on the counter with the other. Only your left side of your body is visible to the others, your long dark hair covering your face. The jingling of a leash rings through the room as a fluffy white dog runs excitedly across the room to your surprised brother, wagging her tail before trotting through the living room.

“Kkuma-ya!!!” Seokmin squeals happily as the dog, who now Jihoon notices up close has a baby pink clip holding her fur out of her face, leans her head against Seokmin’s leg. He reaches down to scratch behind her ears with a giggle.

“See? I told you!” Soonyoung beams proudly at Seungcheol. “I know my best friend.”

“Yah! Where have you been?!” He yells, rushing to you with Jeonghan following close behind.

“What do you mean?” You ask with a tilted head, pulling out the 3 cup trays from the bag. “Didn’t you see the note I left on the fridge? I took Kkuma to work to get some coffees and some birthday treats for Soonie.”

Seungcheol balked, and Jeonghan just turned to smirk at him.

“You didn’t check the fridge, did you, darling?”

Your brother just grumbles with a pout on his lips, taking one of the iced coffees from the trays, leaning over and giving you a thankful but also relieved kiss on the forehead. You just smile sweetly at him as Jeonghan takes a hot cup of tea.

“Thank you, Lady Bug.” He smiles and bumps your hip with his before following his soulmate to occupy a small section of the couches with a donut in hand.

“Noona works at a bakery?” Chan’s eyes widen as he finally pulls the blankets off him at the sight of enough plastic cups for everyone in the room, and a box of various cupcakes, slices and donuts.

“It’s nothing special, Chan-ah.” You laugh, taking two of the three trays, turning towards the boys. “But the employee discount works pretty well when you have friends who are addicted to caffeine and sugar.”

“Woah!” Junhui voices what everyone is thinking. “Your hair!”

Jihoon’s eyes go wide once again as you face them completely, the right side of your hair bleached the same platinum white as your brother, your cheeks turning pink as they all stare.

“What? Is it bad?” You stand in place, your face getting darker and darker.

“Of course not!” Seokmin speaks up as none of the others seem to be able to form words.

Jihoon’s cheeks are flushed a dusted pink as he takes in the innocent look of worry and shyness on your face. It looks anything but bad. You look fantastic, he thinks, if he was single, he would even go as far as thinking you look-

“You look hot.” Hansol blurts out, your face somehow turning even darker. Jihoon side-eye’s the newcomer to the group with a frown.

“Wow, you have such a way with words.” Seokmin laughs, a proud grin on Soonyoung’s face.

“What can I say, I have that rizz.” He retorts with a laugh.

“More like harizzment.” Mingyu huffs, Chan guffawing at the pun along with Junhui.

“Thank god you said it first, babe!” Seungkwan grins, rising from the floor. “I thought it wouldn’t mean much from me, since I call you hot all the time.” He laughed happily, reaching out and running his fingers through it. “My best friend is so stunning!” He squeals, taking one of the trays from your hands to hand out the usual drinks to Junhui, Chan, Hansol and himself. “Thank you for getting these for us, Bug!”

“O-oh..” you’re flustered, laughing quietly as you pass Seokmin, Soonyoung, Mingyu and Wonwoo their drinks. “Thanks, guys.” You laugh nervously, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear before grabbing the last two drinks.

“Yah, don’t thank them!” Soonyoung smirks. “Thank me! I’m the genius who decided it was a great idea to change your look last night! You’re welcome, Lovebug!” He laughs proudly.

Jihoon blinks out of his daze as he realizes you’re making your way over to him, cheeks still flushed. “Uh, Soonie said that you’re not much of a coffee drinker. I don’t drink coffee either, so I just got you what I normally get, a hot chocolate. I hope that’s okay.” You push the paper cup gently into his hands, unable to look up into your soulmate’s face as you sink into a beanbag on the floor. “I don’t know if you like marshmallows or anything, so they’re on the counter-”

“This is perfect, actually.” Jihoon stops your rambling as he takes a sip of the warm drink. “Thank you, Y/N.”

You glance up at him at his words, giving him a gentle smile and nod. When he’s sure you’re not looking at him, he lets the small smile take over his face at your consideration. The chocolate is way too sweet for his taste, he prefers the bitter taste of dark chocolate. But, he couldn’t find it in himself to reject the drink from you. The satisfaction and pride on your face when Jihoon told you the drink was perfect is too memorable for him to want to strip away from you. Instead, he grins and bears the overly sweet chocolatey drink for you.

“See, I told you he’d like it.” He overhears his best friend whisper to you, and you smile into your paper cup. Kkuma climbs up into your lap, wagging her tail happily as you use your free hand to run it through her fur.

If he was honest, Jihoon doesn’t know why he so blindly accepted the sugary sweet drink. If it were Soonyoung or Mingyu, he would’ve rejected them without a second thought. Why has he suddenly accepted your drink without any thought for his own likes?

You didn’t have to get this drink for him. Heck, you didn’t even need to be talking to him period for what he did to you. You are too nice for your own good, Jihoon thinks. He didn’t deserve someone as good as you as a soulmate. You didn’t deserve such a jerk like him, either. One too many times lately, Jihoon again lets his thoughts take over as he absentmindedly sipped from his cup, again not noticing the eyes of your brother’s soulmate watching him; studying him.

“Y/N,” Seungkwan broke Jihoon out of his spiraling thoughts, and you hum in response. “How did you manage to get Mr Park to accept your hairstyle for Mamma Mia?” He tilts his head. “Is he going to get a random ass wig for you or?”

“Oh, about that.” You laugh, shaking your head. “Nah, I’ve decided I’m not auditioning this year.”

You swear you could’ve heard a pin drop in the room as the uncomfortable silence swells.

“I’m sorry…” Seungkwan starts again as you avoid his gaze. “Are you telling me that the one musical that you have dreamed of doing for years is being done and you’re not going to audition for the main role?”

“Uhhh…” you shrink into the couch beside Soonyoung, almost curling into him. “Yeah?”

“What is wrong with you?” He bellows, and you flinch. “You’ve wanted the role of Sophie for years, Y/N! Now you’re pretty much guaranteed and you won’t do it?”

“Boo..” you sighed as Soonyoung wrapped an arm around you.

“No, I’m not going to let you throw this opportunity away!” He insists, his frown evident.

“I just…” your voice is smaller now, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. “I really didn’t want to have to pretend to be in love for countless hours of rehearsals and on top of that, seven performances.” Jihoon winces as he can feel your anxiousness and sadness brewing in your stomach, and he, alongside the rest of the group, eyes your friend to see his reaction.

Seungkwan sighs, reaching out and letting his hand rest on your knee. “I’m sorry for shouting,” you place your hand gently over his, nodding wearily. “I just love you, Bug,” You don’t love me, you think. “And I want only the best for you. But if you think this would only hurt you more in the long run, then I won’t bother you about it anymore, okay?”

“Thanks, Boo.” You hum quietly as you take another sip from your cup. “I’ll just be behind the scenes for this one. The costume team needs more helpers so that’s where I’ll be this year.” You laugh with a hollow smile, before you glance at Soonyoung, who still held you.

“You have to have some cake, Soonie.” You change the topic swiftly, and much to your relief, everyone goes along with it and takes multiple treats from the bakery.

Jihoon is the only one who doesn’t eat, though. He quietly sips on his sickly sweet drink in his hands as he occasionally glances to you, who seems to thrive in the fact your friends are enjoying the goods that you purchased for them.

“I missed you.” Jihoon hums as he takes Ji-ah into his arms late Sunday night.

She had just arrived back from visiting her family, and she let herself melt into his arms. “And I missed you!” She cooed, lips pressing softly to his cheek. He smiled as they both settled down onto his bed, Ji-ah snuggling sweetly against his chest.

“Do you have to go every weekend though?” He jokes playfully, his hand stroking along her arm absentmindedly.

“You’re getting a bit greedy with me, Hoonie.” Ji-ah smiles as her arm drapes around his waist. “You get me all week every week! You know how much my family means to me, you big goof.” She giggles softly as Jihoon lets out a chuckle. “You can always come with me if you miss me that much, you know.”

“Ah, I’ll keep that in mind.” He plays along, smiling.

“Soonyoung’s party was good?” Ji-ah asks sleepily as Jihoon nods.

“Mhm,” he hums, looking up to the ceiling for a moment. “He was ecstatic the entire night. Never knew that someone could still be so excited about a birthday.” He laughs quietly as Ji-ah giggles along with him for a moment before going silent.

Jihoon watches his girlfriend drift off to sleep in his arms, leaving him alone with his thoughts once again. He closes his eyes in an attempt to try and sleep, his stomach churning slightly in guilt. He’s cuddling up to his not-soulmate while his actual soulmate is all alone and feeling the comfort and contentment he’s feeling.

You need to learn to get over it, Jihoon. You’ve made your bed, you can lay in it. He needs to be tough on himself; it’s the only way he will be able to get through his inner turmoil.

For a week, everything goes without a hitch. Jihoon is in a good place with Ji-ah and quite frankly, with you as well. He finds himself not waking up most nights with overwhelming emotions, and he begins to wonder if you’ve started healing. He hopes you have. You have become Jihoon’s desk mate for Film Studies class, and are due at the end of the week to have your first big study session to discuss what film you’ll pick to present about. You’re civil, and even at your third class together, you had brought two familiar paper cups; one for you and one for your soulmate. It’s the first class of the day, and after an explanation to Jihoon that you just finished the early morning shift at the bakery, it really was no trouble to get him another hot chocolate. Like last time, he grins and bears the overly sweet drink, but smiles to himself when he sees the satisfied look on your face.

Auditions have begun in the auditorium, with Jihoon having to sit and endure hours worth of playing the same four chords of the main song of the musical at the piano by the stage. He loathed it, really. He didn’t know that this is what he signed up for when he applied to be in the orchestra for the play. Despite his reasons, Jihoon trudges on without complaint; at least he can practice his piano skills and improve his progression in that area. He does, however, complain to himself at the majority of the drama club auditioning. Half of them can’t hold a tune to save their life, and by Bad Singer #14, he is beginning to think that this musical will be a lost cause. Maybe you should have auditioned after all. He wouldn’t mind another hot chocolate drop, either.

With a sigh, Jihoon adjusts his backpack on his shoulder as he glances up to the sky. It’s full of dark oranges, pinks and purples, and he feels himself smile. He had grown fond of sunsets since he found you - he decided after a week that this was the best time of day. He always likes that no sunset is ever the same; unique in its own way and always breathtaking to everyone who takes the view in. These sunsets were his favourite so far, though. The setting sun hits the wispy clouds just right, making the sky erupt in eye popping colours with the tiniest little stars beginning to emerge.

He takes a long breath as he watches the sky above him, letting his feet take him subconsciously along the usual route to his home. He finds himself slowing down and coming to a stop about five minutes away from his destination, not surprisingly in front of your house. His eyes widen as he sees none other than you, his soulmate sitting on top of the roof of your home, headphones on and, just like Jihoon, staring at the sunset.

You have a dreamy smile on your face as you pull a Polaroid camera from your side and take a snapshot. As you place the film beside you, you take some photos from your phone now, your hums quiet, but loud enough to travel down to where Jihoon stands by your gate, observing you. The wind is blowing your hair gently in the breeze, a shiver running up your body as you wrap your cardigan tighter around you. You type a little longer on your phone before taking a long sigh and start to carefully rise up and make your way down the slope of your roof and down onto the little balcony in front of what Jihoon assumes to be your bedroom window. You take one last look at the sunset with a gentle smile before you step inside, closing the window behind you. Your soulmate waits for five minutes more to make sure you don’t come out again, and once he is satisfied, he turns and starts to walk back to his home once more.

Once Jihoon is settled in his bed, he breathes out a long sigh before feeling a warmth of comfort begin to roll through his body. He wonders what makes you feel so content and comfortable, but welcomes the feeling nonetheless. He is scrolling through his useless Instagram timeline mindlessly before finding himself hovering his thumb over the Search button. After a moment of hesitation, he types in your name into the search bar, clicking on your profile without a moment to lose. He stares at your profile picture for a moment, laughing quietly at the picture being the same white dog he saw at your home, Kkuma. He feels his stomach swell at the sight of your latest picture, in both sadness and guilt.

Jihoon heaves a breath. Your mother. He blinks before scrolling through your feed slowly. There’s the occasional photo of Soonyoung and your brother, some of your theatre performances and outings with your friends, but the majority of your posts were all of the sky. Varying sunsets flood your feed, each picture more stunning than the next. Your captions are almost always the same, each one being a thank you for your mother painting the sky for you, in your words, but Jihoon notices the ones after you found each other were more detailed. You could finally witness your mothers beauty the way the world intended it to be, and Jihoon weeps.

He weeps for your mother, whose life got cut so short for selfish reasons, he weeps for your brother who had to navigate helping look after a whole other human being before he was ready, and he weeps for you, his soulmate, who lost everything at such a young age and for the way he ripped away the one once of hope you had left, whose heart he broke more than it already was for nothing more than what he selfishly wanted. You, who goes out of your way to try to avoid him so you don’t interrupt his relationship with his not-soulmate. You, who offered him your umbrella on your first proper interaction so he wouldn’t get wet and who also offered to buy him drinks for class because you thought he’d want a pick me up for the first class of the day.

You may be feeling as fine as you could be, but Jihoon feels nothing but guilt for stripping everything you hoped for from you.

Real Eyes, Fake Lies Taglist

@cinnamoroxie @enhacolor @mikachu-chu @jojowantstocry @changbinisms @scarlet789 @i-dont-give-a-fok @im-gemmy @shookyungsoo @ametheyistheart @friendlywraith @kawennote09 @coupddeongie @sunooschubbycheeks @zgzgzh @mar-627 @side-angel @kuleo26 @deltamoon666 @snowgirlfallen @lixiel0ver @phenomenalgirl9 @sumzysworld @vixensss @seokmatchu @etaerealboy @milopenne @jinyoungie0922 @chickenscoups @zadkielr @weebotakuboy

#seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #woozi x reader #Woozi Angst #woozi fluff #Lee Jihoon x reader #Lee Jihoon angst #Jihoon x reader #Jihoon Angst #Jihoon fluff #Lee Jihoon fluff #seventeen fanfic

[ikinremu]

KINKTOBER DAY 10: Frank Castle x Thigh Riding

C’mere

Frank Castle x Fem!Reader

Tags: Thigh Riding, Praise

"C'mere." Frank, lowly, grumbled, callous skin clutching at your clothed hips, swiftly pulling you atop his jean-clad lap.

Suddenly crashing the soft, desperate touch of your lips to the hungry plush of his own, your cloaked crotch so briskly brushed with Frank's thigh. Both tongues soon seeped between such heated mouthes, intertwining amidst the ravenous collision.

Thick, splayed out hand trailing up the - rather chilled - back of your neck, he quite leniently swept his digits through your hair, only deepening the kiss.

Abruptly enough, the subtle, perfectly gentle bounces of Frank's thigh sparked just beneath your arousal. A light, airy whimper slid from your mouth to his - sudden, rocking contact conveying a so heavily yearned for stimulation.  

The utter warmth of his lips practically melded with your own as the rough, dense fabric of his jeans - through your own materials - tormented your deprived clit.

Hastily, you subjected the broad span of his shoulders to the forceful likes of your clamping grip, shattering the heated embrace as a mewl rolled over your tongue.

"Yeah? Y'like that?" His words could barely be classed as the previous, edging further towards a complete blur of low, gravelling grunts.

Frank picked up the in the blend of both speed and intention, fulfilling sensations thrilling your pooling cunt - clit pulsing beneath the combination of layers.

"Shit.." You wavered, a desperate croak harshly, mercilessly snapping your word apart.

With a righteous, lust-ridden intent, you initiated such rapid strokes of your clothed hips against his bouncing leg, hopelessly pumping your cunt against the steady, upward motions.

Unknowingly assisting the rather fierce throbbing of your clit, Frank planted sweet, gentle nibbles to your lobes, the sultriness of his open mouth soon pressed right to your bare neck.

Indomitably bewitched, the keen angles of your teeth suddenly punctured the tender surface of your lower lip, denting the flushed pillow. Your - previously gentle - fingertips dug into Frank’s thick, wide-set shoulders, rather clambering for support as a familiar slope built within your stomach.

Clearly anything but oblivious, Frank exhaled such heightened humidity over your jaw, “Y’gonna cum for me, baby?”

Uttering a brief, rather quiet plea, you could barely suffice the simplicity of an “Mhm.”, so helplessly rubbing your soaked, neglected cunt against the rigorous shakes of his thigh.

Lacking a mere moments notice in whatever form, your peaked arousal speedily unwound, mercilessly drenching your entirety with the most euphoric, craved release as you deeply buried your reddened face in the arch between Frank’s neck and shoulder.

Softly, he rested a free hand atop your scalp, effortlessly running his digits over your - now disorderly - hair, “Attagirl.”

Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed! Please feel free to use the asks feature on my page for requests of oneshots/drabbles/blurbs etc.. would be greatly appreciated, though I will be responding to them after kinktober since i’m doing the full month! <3

#smut #smutty #kinktober #kinktober list #drabbles #oneshot #frank castle #frank castle smut #the punisher #the punisher smut

[eternal-kosmo-ghoul]

Could you maybe write an established relationship sodo x fem reader smut with breeding kink and knotting with romantic fluffy after care??

Thank you🖤🖤

“darling amour”

❤︎ Synopsis — Sodo’s a mess of emotions— an unpredictable storm that never knew the touch of gentleness and tender care… until he met his current mate. With her, he can learn to be sweet… caring, and shower his lover with so much affection he never knew he had within him.

Pairing: sodo ghoul x ghoulette!reader (she/her)

Theme: smut ❣︎ , fluff ✿

A/N: I’m experimenting with a new writing style so I hope it doesn’t seem to weird aaaaa. I haven’t written with a fem reader in a while, and idk if I wrote the breeding kink well … so I hope this suffices

CW: NSFW CONTENT. Established relationship, Sodo has issues but it’s ok because reader is amazing, AFAB reader, Breeding kink, knotting, p in v, vaginal sex, praise kink, love marking and hickeys, probably more I can’t think of, but Sodo gives reader lots of love and aftercare <3

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Sodo was an interesting little thing.

A rather stoic and hotheaded little fellow, the firecracker of Ghost— you’d probably find Sodo’s name in the dictionary under the word “temperamental”.

Sodo never let anyone get too close to him, always keeping his walls closely built around him, and rarely opening up. He had made it clear since day one that he isn’t a man that speaks with his heart, but rather with instinct— always snapping his teeth and growling at anyone who tries to get too close. Many of the ghouls and ghoulettes have learned to not irritate this man, as the outcome that came from it was never a pretty sight.

Of course, he wasn’t a completely heartless monster, Sodo was just… troubled. He had his friends, like Rain, Phantom, Swiss, all of those guys, but even they have learned not to try and pry into the secrets of Sodo’s issues.

That is until she came to his life.

Y/N, She was a new little infernal into the pack, Papa had summoned her to serve as a new member of their strange, yet welcoming family in the ministry. Sodo didn’t know what it was about this ghoulette that got him so drawn to her. Maybe it was her sweet yet gracious hand gestures, or the way that her voice was just so angelic, like a mourning dove singing it’s alluring and enchanting song.

Call him delusional for swooning over this demon the moment he saw her— but maybe love at first sight wasn’t so silly to Sodo anymore.

And it seemed that Y/N took a liking to Sodo as well, as she clung to him the moment she was summoned. Newly summoned ghouls usually take a bit to adjust to the topside, the overwhelming sensations of the human realm having freshly summoned ghouls on high alert and hissing at anyone who dares to step a foot into their direction. Yet for some odd reason, Y/N stuck to Sodo, and he didn’t mind one bit.

This seemed to work in their favor, because one thing led to another, the fire ghoul and the new ghoulette started dating. It was… a new experience for Sodo, to say the least. He’s never opened up this quickly to a fellow infernal— let alone one he just met recently. However, the fire ghoul always found himself drawn to this beautiful beast.

Something lured him in like a moth to the flame— drawing him into her presence like an symphonic melody. And honestly, Sodo wasn’t complaining, because this woman was everything he wanted in a mate.

She was a stunning ghoulette. Beautiful like the flames of Hell themselves, a sexy beast that had any man or woman shaking in their knees just from her sheer presence alone. Y/N was everything he could ask for. His little darling amour. An absolutely kind and understanding mate, gentle to the touch but absolutely wild in the sheets.

And oh boy did Sodo love this woman in bed.

Maybe it was the way she let out those soft and elegant moans, or how her tail would intertwine with his every time she was close to finishing. The way he drilled his cock into her tight heat had her squeezing so tightly around him… and the feeling just drove Sodo over the edge every single time.

Y/N was a freak in bed, and the fire ghoul was here for it.

“Fuck, darling. You’re going to squeeze me dry.” The guitarist panted between sharp and haste moans, moving his hips in a rhythm that had him and his lover panting heavily from the sheer feeling of pleasure.

Y/N just let out her own soft and breathy moans, her claws gripping onto the silk-woven bedsheets beneath her, while her lover thrusted into her slowly and sensually.

“Ngh… good.” Y/N uttered out quietly, but her tone was laced with lust and affection. “That’s how I know I’m doing a good job at getting you off.”

Sodo looked down at Y/N. His forehead was glistening with sweat and his cheeks were flushed a lavender color. His entire body felt hot, and yet he couldn’t help but give his partner a half-smirk if both desire and love.

“You little minx, you just know how to get me all riled up. Fuck I love you so much.” The fire ghoul groaned out, his voice resonating through the bedroom. Sodo’s thrusts only increased in speed, the head of his cock hitting that sweet, sweet spot within Y/N’s walls that had her tail quivering and her legs twitching.

Sodo could feel the ring of muscle tightening around his erection, which only made the guitarist let out a series of moans that almost sounded pornographic. “You’re such a good girl… taking my cock so well… mmmh~ you’re going to make me lose it.”

This… affectionate and tender side that Sodo had to him, he never really knew it was in him. He was so used to being such a hateful and spiteful ghoul, a fierce and snappy infernal who was angry with the world, angry with himself. He didn’t think there was an ounce of love in his body.

But this moment with Y/N… clearly proved him wrong.

Sodo’s hip thrusts were slow and sensual… being sure to hit every inch of Y/N’s insides in a way that had her squirming under his hold, begging for more. He slowly picked up the pace, and his moans only increased in volume while his fingers gripped his lover’s wrists more tightly.

“So… nnngh~ good for me.. love you so much— so, so much…” Sodo uttered out, his speech becoming more incoherent. The fire ghoul could also tell that Y/N was enjoying this as much as he was— due to her rather high-pitched moans that almost sounded pornographic.

As the guitarist’s moans and groans increased in volume, he dipped his head down towards the ghoulette’s neck. Sodo’s fangs were bared as he gently sunk them into the soft flesh of his lover, leaving hickeys and bite marks between his heavy grunts and moans. These marks… were proof of how much he loved Y/N, how he cherished her like a goddess… and wouldn’t trade her for anything else.

And he was going to keep showing that love in all the ways he can, sexual or not.

“Ahh~ Sodo please…” Y/N moaned out breathlessly, her tail moving to curl around Sodo’s tail while Sodo pounded into her relentlessly. “Please.. please fill me up..”

Sodo might as well would’ve just came right then and there. Y/N’s voice sounded so hot when she said it like that, he definitely wanted to fill her up with his seed now— wanting nothing more than to see his own cum dripping out of her tight heat.

“Ohhh baby~ I’ll give you more than just that.” The guitarist grunted out, feeling his semi-hardened length pulsing inside of his lover’s hole— the walls tightening around his cock and just making him crave Y/N’s body even more.

“Fuck—! You’re such a good girl for me… ohhh you just look so goddamn gorgeous under me like this…”

Sodo’s lips moved to capture Y/N’s in a fiery and heated kiss, slipping his forked tongue into her mouth as they made out. His thrusts didn’t stop either, and he felt himself getting closer and closer to that brink of pleasure— that feeling that made him feel the closest to heaven.

“You’re so fucking sexy… I love you so much.. mmmh~ so so so much..”

Y/N moaned loudly into the kisses, feeling her lips go numb from how passionate Sodo was being. She felt like passing out from the pleasure, but each of Sodo’s hard, yet pleasurable thrusts only kept her eyes shot wide open in pure ecstasy.

“Nnngh! I’m gonna cum—! Sodo… Sodo please I’m gonna cum!” Y/N cried out, her mind completely fogged with nothing but more lust and carnal desire. She could feel some of that ghoulish instinct within her begging for more and more of Sodo’s cock.. and she was allowing for herself to experience it.

Sodo grunted rather loudly as he heard Y/N beg for a release, and he just couldn’t resist biting her neck slightly— leaving a dark and bruising hickey on a spot that would definitely be difficult to cover up.

“Oh yeah? You’re going to cum for me? Mmmmh fuck~ don’t hold back now… let me feel that pleasure you’re experiencing!” Sodo panted out lustfully, his pupils shaped like hearts as he stared down at his lover with so much love and desire.

Sodo’s thumb moved down to gently press down against Y/N’s clit, before moving it in a circular motion while he was thrusting inside of her— giving an extra sense of stimulation that had Y/N squirming and screaming Sodo’s name.

Y/N could feel that knot within her abdomen being slowly undone— before she finally let out one last cry of pleasure, releasing her essence all over Sodo’s cock while it was buried deep within her.

Sodo shortly followed after her, letting out a loud groan before thrusting into Y/N one last time with a hard push. The fire ghoul released his hot seed inside of the ghoulette, ropes of thick cum filling her up to the brim completely. His orgasm was so intense, there was a bit of that slick fluid dripping out of her hole.

Both infernals just laid there for a moment, giving themselves a few minutes to catch their breath. Sodo laid gently on top of Y/N’s chest, before slowly pulling out of his lover, feeling their mixed fluids leave behind a trail that snapped off.

Wordlessly, Sodo got off of the bed and went into the bathroom to grab some towels. One for Y/N and one for himself. He then crawled back onto the bed again, before gesturing to Y/N to come over to him.

“Come here, darling. Let me clean you up.”

Y/N just nodded and slowly got up to move over to Sodo. The fire ghoul then wrapped his arms gently around Y/N’s waist and pulled her into his chest— her bare back resting against his chest. Sodo then used the towel to clean up any remaining fluids down between Y/N’s legs, being extra careful and sensitive so he didn’t stimulate Y/N’s aching privates any further.

Sodo’s touch was so gentle and tender. While he was cleaning Y/N up, he’d occasionally leave a kiss or two on the ghoulette’s cheek— which in turn made her giggle from the ticklish feeling.

The sound of her giggles swelled Sodo’s chest with a familiar warmth that he was slowly getting used to.

“Mmmh.. I love how you’re being so gentle..” Y/N whispered quietly, turning her head around to be met with Sodo’s loving gaze. “It’s one of my favorite things about you.”

Gentle. Sodo would never describe himself as a gentle being. But, his lover saw past his cold exterior, and awoken something more sweet and caring within him. He liked being gentle.

“I do try,” Sodo answered back with a smile, before softly kissing Y/N’s lips. He then cleaned up the last few traces of that sticky fluid, before putting the towel down.

“There… all cleaned up. And you still look as gorgeous as ever.” Sodo praised with a chuckle following after, peppering Y/N’s face with sweet and short kisses— which made her laugh in a delighted manner from how Sodo was acting.

“Oh my Satan— you can be so cheesy sometimes.”

“Only for you I am~ and you know you love it too, Y/N.”

“I do. That’s why I’m your mate, you dummy,”

The fire ghoul only rolled his eyes playfully, and pulled Y/N into his arms again— gently laying down on the silk sheets with his mate in his arms, caressing her and pulling her close.

“Yeah… and I wouldn’t trade you for anyone else.” Sodo whispered softly, burying his head into the crook of Y/N’s neck.

He could breath in her scent, and it was a comforting one. She smelt of roses and fresh vanilla, with a hint of sex from what they both did just now … but it was a comforting sense that brought peace to Sodo’s mind.

Sodo just stayed cuddled up in Y/N’s embrace, while he too was holding her closely. Their bare bodies clung together like two perfectly fitted puzzle pieces. Sodo purred softly and nudged his horns gently against Y/N’s jaw, to which she just chuckled and gently stroked them, her tail moving to intertwine with Sodo’s.

“I love you, Sodo...” Y/N whispered into his ear softly. Her tone was comforting and soothing, it made Sodo feel at ease.

For the first time in a while, he felt peace. He felt calm with his mate… because she has slowly broke down his walls, and carefully opened up his heart… to feel loved again.

“… I love you too, Y/N,”

And he just smiled, feeling his eyes flutter shut as he drifted off into dreamland, dreaming about nothing but peace and love.

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#ghost bc #ghost fanfiction #nameless ghoul x reader #nameless ghouls #sodo ghoul #ghost smut #the band ghost #nameless ghoul headcanons #nameless ghoul smut #sodo smut #sodo x reader #dewdrop ghost #dewdrop ghoul #dewdrop x reader #dewdrop smut #ghost headcanons

[harryforvogue]

hello welcome back to me writing out some ideas that will never become actual full stories. this was super fun because i've never written the bodyguard trope. i won't be writing more for this, but isn't this so fun???? hope you like it! (if the French is wrong, that's on me) 2.5k idk

***

France, 1843.

The tavern will do for the night.

It’s inconspicuous, a perfect hiding spot. In fact, now that she’s been in her room for the past three hours, it’s safe to say that if anyone were to come looking for her, they’d be long gone by now. That’s why she changes into a fresh outfit (provided by the very nice hostess who got teary eyed by the story she made up.) She’s now in a simple dress, much better than the other outfit. After all, it would be weird to be traipsing around in a wedding dress.

Her family went all in for the dress too. She’s going to hold on to it, see how much money she can make from it.

She comes down the stairs quietly. At nearly sunset time, the bar is starting to get crowded. She can definitely get mixed into the wave of people, giving her more cover. She expected several people to come in around this time anyways. Despite it being 4 in the afternoon, the winter allows for the sun to retreat earlier. The visibility outside must be terrible, and with a snowstorm on top of that, the only people coming into the tavern will be loyal customers and those sheltering from the weather. 

Of course, her family is too highly opinionated to stop at a measly little tavern like this.

She skips off the last step and looks around. She's picked an excellent spot.

When she sits at the bar, it takes only a minute for the bartender to catch her eye. “Une bière.”

He retreats to pour her drink, and then slides it across the wooden bar.

She catches it and smiles sweetly at him. Then relaxes into her seat and listens to the music.

What a disaster of a day. The whole town will be talking about it tomorrow: the runaway bride. Well, maybe not this town. No, this place is smaller, and less wealthy. They care little for the problems of the rich folk.

The minutes pass by in silence and peace. That is, until the bartender comes by with another drink that she definitely did not ask for.

“Ça vient du monsieur,” the man says.

She looks over to where he's gesturing.

Sitting at the end of the bar is a man she’s all too familiar with. His curls aren’t wet with snow, nor are his clothes, which suggest he’s been here for a long time. Has he been waiting for her out? Did he follow her the moment she left the chapel, or was it that his guess was just correct? Pure luck maybe. Regardless of the how, what matters is that he knows where she is, and he answers her scowl with a smile of his own, lifting his glass in the air as if to toast her attempts at escaping him.

“Merci,” she grits to the bartender. She turns back to her drink, trying to come up with a plausible story before Harry makes his way over. The thirty seconds it takes Harry to show up, though, is simply not enough. 

He sits on the vacant seat beside her. He slides his mug over and lightly taps hers. “Fear not,” he says in English, grinning with his dimples on full display, “I’m here alone.”

Harry’s been her guard for several years. He’s young, barely 3 or 4 years older than her. He rarely speaks with her, but he’s always there when she goes out, even when she’s with her fiancé. He was posted with her years ago when her father gained some political opposition, out of fear she’d get in harm’s way. Thanks to Harry, that’s never happened.

Suffice to say, she’s less than happy to see him here.

Normally, he’s a nice face to look at. All handsome and diligent. He stands nearly half a foot taller than her, always dressed in nearly all black. He has women fainting over him. She, too, can admire his beauty. 

But she’s not going to tell him that.

“As if an army of my father’s men would frighten me,” she replies back.

“Aren’t you glad to see me? Out of all the guards that could have been here searching for the runaway bride, aren’t you happy that it’s me and not another?”

“I’d be more happy to see my fiancé.”

Harry raises an eyebrow. “Is he still your fiancé?”

“I mean, I still have the ring on my finger.”

“Would have figured you’d pawned it off by now.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “Are you going to force me to go back? Because let me tell you, I’m going to put up a fight. I will scream bloody murder if you touch me.”

Harry looks amused now. He rests his chin on his palm.

“That is quite a plan. It’s easy to see how you could be so creative about running away too. Let’s talk about it because I do feel the need to give you kudos, mademoiselle. Not only did you persuade your father to have a winter wedding, but you also picked out the most expensive fabrics and gems for your big day. You convince your fiancé that you love him and then leave him in the church where everyone is supposed to witness a holy union. You thoroughly humiliated him. Excellent scheming.”

He actually does seem impressed.

She doesn’t say anything.

“And to answer your question,” he continues. “I don’t plan on forcing you to go back. In fact, I was actually anticipating this.”

“Anticipating this, how?” She doesn’t want to be on the defense, but he’s acting strange. Too comfortable. 

He rolls his head back and looks at her incredulously. “You may not see me at all times, but as your guard, I do keep my eyes on you. And it’s a wonder how other people didn’t notice. The way your smile dropped at the mere mention of him, the way you had to leave the room with a pitiful excuse every time he showed up. The way you refused to let him kiss you after he very kindly walked you home all the time. Almost difficult to watch.”

She feels her face burn. “You’re not supposed to spy on me.”

“That is my job. I get paid for it, so I might as well be thorough, no?” He’s smiling again.

“All those things mean nothing. It was a last minute decision to run away.” She tilts her head back and finishes her ale.

“Ah, that I know. It was the most surprising part when you didn’t show up. I knew you would pull something like this, make an excuse of some kind. I anticipated that – but I didn’t anticipate it happening on your wedding day.”

“I wasn’t going to wait for an annulment. Don’t know if that would even be possible. And who'd want to marry me after that anyways. Running away was my best option.”

“He’s absolutely distraught, by the way. He’d be very unhappy if he knew we were talking like this. We’ve become friends of some sort.”

“Why would he be upset about us speaking?”

The incredulous look comes back. “It pains me that you don’t know how jealous your little fiancé is. You have such little awareness.”

“Jealous?” She suddenly laughs. “Oh please. As if he has anything to be jealous about.”

Harry finishes his drink and then orders another round for them. As he does, she takes him in. He’s in his black vest, white long sleeved shirt, with an undone white cravat, his jacket tucked away somewhere in the bar. He taps his perfectly polished boots against the floor, pristine black trousers fitting nicely around his strong thighs. His trousers are always perfectly fitted, unlike the rest of her guards. Or maybe she’s just spent a lot of time looking at him.

“He has plenty to be jealous about, mademoiselle.”

“All my attention has been on wedding planning and such for weeks now. I haven’t had the chance to even talk to another man.”

He glances back at her when she’s looking down at his thighs. He’s silent for a moment, but then says quietly, “Not all jealousy has to come from interacting with a man. It could just be from the way you look at one.”

Her eyes jump back to his face. His eyes are narrowed as if trying to figure her out. “He has nothing to be jealous about,” she repeats.

“He doesn’t?”

“As horrible of a woman I am for leaving a man at his own wedding, I’m not the type of woman to betray him, even though I don’t feel any particular affection for him. I respect him and myself.”

“I don’t think it has anything to do with respect, mademoiselle. It’s about desire. After all, you should desire the man you’re marrying, is that not true?”

“Yes, and that’s why I’ve run away.”

“And if you were to desire someone else, it wouldn’t be betrayal, given you’re no longer his intended.”

He says it so casually, but she sees the way his eyes slip down to her mouth for a brief second. 

“I still have the ring.”

He glances at her hand. “Will you keep it?”

“Not planning on it.”

“And until then, you’ll stay faithful to a man you have no intention of marrying? Forgive me, I can’t seem to make sense of this logic.”

She thinks about how much she should tell him. He’s had it figured out, it seems. Maybe she wasn’t as good at hiding her true feelings about the union. Or maybe Harry’s just watched her too closely.

She says, “Are you really not going to take me back?”

Harry shakes his head. “What good would that do?”

“My father would appreciate it.”

“Your father has overlooked many things that I think have been worth appreciating over the span of my career as your dutiful guard, mademoiselle.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Harry doesn’t say anything. He simply watches her, as if she’ll understand him just from his expression. She doesn’t.

“Tell me,” she demands.

“I’ve done things that deserve recognition, that is all.”

“Like what?”

He narrows his eyes. “Like keeping you alive for the past four years, you ungrateful wench. With all the stupid decisions you make on a daily basis, I should actually be getting a fucking medal for managing to keep all your limbs in tact.”

The way he says it is so sudden and harsh, she can’t help but laugh. 

“Funny, is it?” he grumbles.

“Hilarious. So, what type of recognition would you even have liked for keeping me alive?”

“It doesn't matter now, I think. Surely I’ll lose my job for not getting to you in time and bringing you back.”

She sits up straighter. “If I were to be brought back, what do you think you’d deserve for it?”

He sighs. “I shouldn't say.”

“I want to know.”

“You’ll hate me.”

She smiles real wide. “So what?"

He contemplates it for a moment. Finishes his second drink and then drums his fingers on the bar top. His knee gently brushes against her skirts beneath the table. “Did you know that before your father picked him to marry you, he had one of the other guards draft a list of eligible men?”

Her expression sours. “There was a list? How disappointing.”

“Mhm. It wasn’t a very long one.”

“What does this have to do with my question?”

He looks at her, unblinking. “If I were to bring you back to your father, and you still had to marry, I would like to be considered on that list.”

Everything falls away. Her smile drops, and her heart beats hard in her ears. Harry doesn’t look away from her, watching every expression take over her face. Surprise, worry, and then…

“Oh.”

The corner of his mouth twists. “Right. And a part of me wishes I’d throw you over my shoulder and drag you back to him. Just to be considered, even for a mere moment. Long enough for there to be a mental image of you and I at the altar in your father’s head. I’d be pleased with even a mere thought if it’s the only time we'd ever be together. But that wouldn’t be fair, would it?”

“No.” Though the thought of being draped over that shoulder is more than enough to get her knee bouncing under the table. Her leg jostles his.

“And of course,” he says, smiling tightly, “you are loyal to your man because of that ring.”

They both look down at the gem. It gleams in the light. 

Harry’s eyes dart back up to hers. He watches her for several long seconds before he reaches out.

With slow movements, he takes her hand. “Unless…” he murmurs, resting her hand on top of his knee. He gently twists the ring off her finger and drops it into his pocket. She keeps her hand on his leg.

Could he be trying to get her to make a move? She’ll be truly guilty if she advances first, but he doesn’t seem to be pulling away either. She holds her breath.

What she ends up saying is, “You said that as my guard, you’ve always needed to keep your eyes on me.”

“Yes.” His gaze is heavy. Dark.

“Even when I didn’t need you to?”

“I always looked out for you. I always will. It’s become second nature to me.”

That makes her feel a certain way. A way she’s never felt in her life. Her breath catches. 

"You do deserve something for that," she says softly. She carefully squeezes his leg, right above his knee.

His jaw visibly tenses.

Harry leans in, and this is when she realizes he’s moving first. He takes a hold of her chin and tilts it up, eyebrows drawn together as if he’s really trying his best to stay away but can’t. He brings his head down. He whispers her name and her body caves, leaning into him.

For the first time in her life, she's excited about kissing a man. Her impatience suddenly surpasses the limit. She puts her other hand on his knee and pushes herself upwards to meet his kiss.

Just before his mouth touches hers, the bartender returns with a gruff, “Il est tout à fait inapproprié de le faire ici. Allez dans votre chambre.” 

Harry pulls away, just barely, and looks down at her through his eyelashes. He keeps a hold on her face. “Shall we?” he asks her, ignoring the bartender. 

She swallows roughly. His eyes are drenched with desire, her heart pounding away in her chest. She licks her lips, enjoying the way he follows the movement.

He whispers, “I’ll be nice, darling.”

Excitement spreads through her like wildfire. She balls her hands into fists and takes a deep breath. “Come.”

He smiles then, and it takes her aback. As he stands, he genuinely looks pleased. Relieved even. As if he’s been waiting for this chance. He takes her hand and tells her to lead him to her room. 

And when he presses her against her door, hands tangled in her hair, a searing kiss placed onto her mouth, she realizes this is what it’s supposed to feel like.

#we've been talking so much about marriage of course i had to write about a runaway bride #the guard au is fun #dunno why i've always stayed away from it #harry styles fic #harry styles au #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing

[atinylittlepain]

Tougher Than the Rest

no outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader

Hungry Hearts masterlist

wordcount | 5.5K

warnings | smut, angst, the usual

a/n | we have reached the last chapter of this story. thank you to everyone who has followed along with this one, it has truly been a treat working with these characters, so your love for them means a lot. as always i'd love to hear what you think, drop me a line!

...................................

“Ellie, school in thirty! You better be up if you’re catching the train! Sorry about that, my daughter is– well, you know how kids can be. What was the question again?” She hates these things. These fluffy little interviews that her agent forces her into whenever she has a new book coming out. Good publicity and all that. Bullshit, if you ask her. Why can’t the book just speak for itself?

“No worries at all, I was wondering if you could tell me a little about your writing process for this last book, did you have a set routine or any rituals that propelled your work forward?” Rituals, gag her. She tries not to let out a dejected sigh over the phone, settling instead for an eye roll as she attempts to get Ellie’s lunch put together with one and a half hands, her phone settled precariously between her cheek and her shoulder as she puts together a pb and j, except not because Ellie’s school has a thing about peanut butter. So, sunflower butter and organic apricot jam from the co-op down the block that she somehow got wrangled into as a member. 

“You know, I try not to be too precious about routines. I write as much as I can whenever I can. And as a mom, I have to take whatever time I can get.” The interviewer most certainly didn’t like that answer, a long right, okay crackling over the line. But what did he expect? Some sort of meticulous, meditative bullshit no doubt. Sorry, not her style. 

“So, last question here, you have certainly established yourself over the last decade as a prolific writer. What is it that keeps you writing?” Well, that’s simple, isn’t it? If she keeps writing, she keeps herself from thinking about the past, about things she shouldn’t be thinking about. But her agent would probably throttle her for saying that, so something else in its place instead.

“I always wanted to be a writer growing up. It’s just– instinct, maybe impulse, frankly. I write because it’s what I know how to do, it’s how I figure out this world.” She tacks on that last bit hoping it will make up for the entirely unsexy rest of her responses, and judging by the hmm the interviewer lets out over the phone, it will suffice. All the usual niceties and a long sigh when she finally hangs up.

“Ellie, if you aren’t up I’m–”

“Jesus, I’m up, woman.” Her eleven-year-old has developed a new habit of calling her woman like a despondent husband in a loveless marriage, marching out of her bedroom and into the kitchen as she shoves papers into her backpack. 

“Lunch for you, and I will be outside of the school at 3:30 to walk home with you, okay? Do you– I can walk with you this morning too if–” 

“No, mom, I got it.” It stings, just a little, smarting, and then a small swell of pride that her girl is so independent. 

“Okay, okay, let’s get some breakfast in you, huh? Smoothie, that sound good?” Ellie’s face scrunches up, but she doesn’t give her an abject no, and that’s enough for Cherry to get out the blender. 

“Mom?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s in Texas?” Cherry freezes, her hand holding half a banana (non-GMO, whatever the fuck that means) suspended over the blender. 

“What– where’s that question coming from?” 

“On the computer last night, you had left it open to some construction company in Texas.” Shit, her smart girl. That was how Ellie found out that Santa wasn’t real two years ago, hopping on the desktop and finding the order confirmation for the pair of glow-in-the-dark Converse she had asked for in her letter addressed to the North Pole. 

“Oh, um, that– I have a friend who is, uh, moving there and I’m helping her find someone to do work on her new house, yeah.” Ellie doesn’t seem to buy that answer, brow pinched up, but before she can question it, Cherry flips on the blender, letting it whir just a little longer than it needs to. 

“Alright, breakfast of champions, you can drink it on the train, yeah? You’re gonna be late if you don’t get a move on.” A quick flurry to pour the smoothie into a to-go cup and then out the door, love you, be safe, bye. A big sigh when she slumps back against the shut door, close one.

Yes, maybe, a moment of weakness yesterday. A moment of weakness while she was working over edits for her next book. Somehow, up until yesterday, she had managed to not let a moment of weakness creep in. But before she knew what she was doing, she was googling his name and Austin, Texas. And there he was, with his own business no less.

Yes, maybe, she had left a tab open on the Miller’s Construction website’s About Us page. And yes, maybe, she had left the page zoomed in on the picture of Joel in the top corner. And yes, maybe, none of her edits had gotten done because she was a little busy looking at said picture for the better portion of the afternoon. 

So the first thing that she does after cleaning up the small cyclone in the kitchen is log onto the computer to delete that tab, not letting herself linger on the photo any longer. But he looks good, she thinks. Doing good for himself, she thinks. Not letting that thought get any bigger, that want crack open any more than it already has, right back to work on her edits. 

But her mind is fickle this morning, still stuck on that photo, still stuck on him in a way she hasn’t been in a while. Maybe it’s because of the appointment she has at noon. An impulsive choice she made and, for some reason, has kept. A way to hold onto something she should have let go a long time ago. But she can’t.

And yes, maybe, her morning is spent in a constant toggle between the open tab of her word doc, and that damn About Us page on the Miller’s Construction website.

…

He’s nervous. And he’s not sure why, because it’s her, right? It’s them. Except this is new. Not something they ever got to do in the past. Not like this at least. 

“Hey there.” She’s in a dress when she opens the door, and his mind has to quickly configure around the fact that this is the first time he has seen her in a dress in two decades, though he probably should have expected that, right? Because people dress up for these things, something that Sarah said to him very slowly like he was an invalid, prompting him into a button-down before he left. 

“Hey, Cherry, you look, uh, yeah– look real good.” She smiles, still leaning in the doorframe, but before she can speak, someone else beats her to it.

“Wow, real smooth, man.” 

“Ellie.” Cherry hisses it over her shoulder, but Joel never sees the kid, just hears her lowly murmured what? I’m just saying, geez. Already off to a great start. 

“Sorry about the peanut gallery, but I’m ready if you are.” 

No more sneaking around, no more questioning if this is real or not. They’re doing the thing that normal people do, normal people in a normal relationship. They’re going on a date. 

“I like this.” She hums it, reaching across the console from the passenger seat to thumb at the collar of his shirt, her palm smoothing down over his chest. 

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm, you clean up very pretty, Miller.” Just a little snark tinging the end of her words, making him huff as she keeps rubbing distracting circles into his chest. 

“Well, you’re in fine form, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” With that, her hand trails up, palm slipping behind the nape of his neck, her fingers threading through the errant curls there while he fights the urge for his eyes to roll back in his head. 

“Sure, Cher, at this rate we’re not even gonna make it to the restaurant.” He regrets saying it instantly, because just as soon as the words leave his mouth, she’s taking her hand away, sitting prim and perfect in the passenger seat where she had been completely turned toward him before. 

“Right, sorry, best behavior.” Her words slant with the simper of her smile, and he has to remind himself that they’re doing this normal thing now. No need to hurry, no need to hide, no need to steal time. Because she’s staying, and so is he. 

By some stroke of luck, they do make it to the restaurant, and it’s right about then that Joel realizes it has been a woefully long time since he has been on a date. He has to stutter himself into all the motions, trying to remember the right moves, opening the door for her, a bit flustered when he pulls her chair out for her and she snorts.

“Well you don’t get this kind of treatment in New York.” To make the matter of his quick creeping flush worse, she presses a kiss to his cheek before she sits down. He gets to have that now, totally normal. He’s still getting used to totally normal.

“So how is the book coming along?” He’s not sure if he’s allowed to ask that, what might still be a sore subject. For a moment, her face falls, fear flickering in his chest that he has fucked up, though she smooths it out, something like a smile still at the edges of her eyes.

“Do you really want to hear me talk about that?” 

“Only if you want to.”

“Can I ask you something first?” He nods, of course, taking a cursory sip of his wine as she does the same. 

“Did you– what did you think? About the other ones?” She asks it shy, her cheek propped in her hand, smile crumpled to one side. His mind reels with what he could say, though he’s not sure if any of it’s right. It’s not like he has some dazzlingly intellectual thing to say. But she’s asking him, she wants to know what he thinks, and he muses to himself that she’s been wanting to know what he thinks for a while. 

“I was amazed by every single one, Cher. And I was proud of you too, even though I had no business feeling that way. It was– I thought about you, a lot, over the years. And getting to read your books, it felt like I could be a little closer to you that way.” He surprises himself with the stark honesty of his words, but how could he offer her anything else when she’s looking at him like that? Smile softening in the dim light of the restaurant, cheeks brimming up with the praise.  

“I always wondered, you know, if you were reading them. I– I guess that’s a little ridiculous.” He’s still getting used to this too, being able to reach out for her, taking her hand in his across the table.

“Not ridiculous, and I’m looking forward to reading the new one.” 

“I sent the second draft in two days ago.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm, my editor fucking destroyed my first one, so we’ll see how this draft goes over.” 

“You know, I’ve been wondering, Cher, when the hell did you get that trucker’s mouth of yours?” She laughs big and bright, shoulders shrugging up to her ears, a little flail to her hands that makes him laugh too.

“I mean, it’s definitely a New York thing. That, and people just started pissing me off a lot more, so I kinda had to.” 

“I tried to cut back on it when Sarah got old enough to start picking stuff up. She still managed to slip a few fucks into her vocabulary in the first grade.” 

“Oh god, I actually got called into the school when Ellie was in the first grade because she told a boy at recess to leave her the fuck alone. Honestly, I was more proud than anything else, is that bad?” 

“Fuck no, it’s not bad. I’d probably take Sarah for ice cream if she did the same.” She sighs around a smile, and he finds himself doing the same, settling into this ease. Yes, he thinks, it’s going to take some getting used to. But he’s more than happy to be getting used to it with her.

…

“I’d like to get it on my right shoulder, if that works okay.” If her mother could see her now. She doesn’t look in the mirror until the tattoo artist has stamped the stencil into place, a satisfied hum in her throat when she gets a look at the design. 

Frankly, she wasn’t sure if she was going to keep this appointment. She had made it under the pleasant flush of two glasses of wine late one night about a month ago, surprised to receive an email from the artist saying that they loved her idea and wanted to get her on the books. And for some reason, she didn’t say no, didn’t cancel, and is now laying out on a tattoo table and bracing for the first pass of the needle. 

It’s not too bad, a little cringey when the artist is working right over the cap of her shoulder, but otherwise it passes quickly, and before she knows it, she’s standing back in front of the mirror on shaky legs, looking at the twining cherry branch now wrapping around her upper arm. 

“It’s perfect, thank you. I love it.” Ellie has rather different feelings about it, her jaw dropping loose when Cherry meets her outside of her school, still warm enough that she’s only in a t-shirt, showing off part of her still-wrapped ink. 

“What is that?” There’s no playing it off, Ellie refusing to move until Cherry gives her an answer.

“That is a tattoo, and before you ask, no, not until you’re eighteen.” Ellie balks at that, though Cherry is quick to sling her arm around her girl’s shoulders to set them both walking toward the subway. 

“Is it– what is it?” Ellie takes the one leftover seat in the train and Cherry hooks her elbow around the rail in front of her, a perfect opportunity for her kid to get a better look at her new tattoo.

“It’s a cherry tree.”

“I can’t believe you got a tattoo.” She says it with a sigh, like somehow, this is the worst news ever. Cherry has to hold back a laugh, knowing that it will only put Ellie in even worse of a tiff. 

“What’s wrong with tattoos?” 

“Nothing, but you’re my mom, you’re not supposed to get tattoos.” Ellie grumbles out the last words, crossing her arms over her chest with a huff, perfectly petulant. Cherry gives her little episode about twenty more minutes before she forgets all about it and asks what’s for dinner. 

When they do get back to their apartment, Cherry just barely catches the ringing phone, surprised, though pleasantly, when she hears Will on the other end. 

“Hey, what’s going on? Everything okay?” 

“Hey, yeah, I just thought I’d give you a call.” She knows exactly what that means. It’s only been recently that she and Will can talk like this, call like this. She got out, and he did too, and for a while that had to be enough for the both of them, slinking around the past like they could somehow forget it. It was Will that reached out to her first, and she was relieved for it, not sure if he resented her, or even hated her for the way she left. He didn’t, he understood, and he wanted to know how his big sister was doing. 

“Mom?” He sighs over the phone, exactly what she thought. For some reason, their mother still reaches out to him, an errant phone call that he somehow can’t seem to dodge. 

“She called to tell me that they’re moving to Arizona.”

“Oh, lovely.”

“Yeah, so I guess that means Austin has finally been fumigated.” Cherry snorts, trying to let that be funny, though all it really feels is bitter. 

“You’re not thinking about going back, are you?” Because suddenly, she is. An impossibility for so long, now a little more possible.

“Hell no, Portland has been good to me. I only just managed to lose the accent.” 

“I liked your accent, Will. I’m afraid mine has started sounding a little too Brooklyn lately.”

“Yeah, you have that kinda eternally angry thing going on in your voice now.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know that my eternally angry voice is what gets me book deals.” 

“Sure, that’s what it is, miss New York Times bestseller.” She scoffs, a flustered murmur of yeah, yeah, whatever, always quick to change the subject from anything like that. 

“You’re still coming for Christmas though, right? I’d– we’d really love to have you. I’ve been telling Ellie about you.” Something new, she never thought Ellie would get any kind of extended family. Definitely no grandparents, but an uncle would be nice.

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to it.” He has something else to say, she can tell by the way his words fizzle out. She doesn’t push though, just waits.

“You don’t think about going back, do you? To Texas?” Her throat tightens, a quick glance down the hall to check that Ellie’s bedroom door is still closed.

“No, why would I want to?”

“Oh come on, out of the two of us I’d say you’d have an actual reason to.”

“What are you talking about?” Like maybe she could bullshit her way out of this, but he is her brother, after all. He always liked Joel, definitely looked up to him. And he was also one of the only people that knew about their relationship, always willing to cover for her sneaking around, for the flat rate price of a new comic book. 

“Not what, who.”

“Will, that’s ancient history. That’s– that’s even past ancient history. It was another life.”

“I know, I just– I always thought you two were gonna be it, you know? Even before that summer, y’all were always something else.”

“Careful, they’ll throw you out of Portland for saying y’all like that.” That gets half a laugh out of him, just enough to drop the subject.

“All this talk of Texas must be getting to me. Anyways, just wanted to call and tell you the big news or whatever.” 

“Alright, well, big news aside, it’s always good to hear from you. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?” 

“Yeah, sis, love you.”

“Love you too.” That’s new, she’s glad for it.

Afternoons, after school, but before dinner, this is her favorite time. Sometimes, Ellie will still let her help with her homework, or at least allow her presence on the edge of her bed while she works, might even answer a few questions about her day or her friends. Eleven going on thirty, or something like that. By the time dinner rolls around, her girl has warmed up to her enough to sit at the kitchen counter while she chops vegetables.

“So, why a cherry tree?” 

“Oh, it’s an old story, a friend of mine from a long time ago, not interesting. Hey, I saw the email from the school about career day next week, were you gonna tell me about that?” A quick change of subject, two birds with one stone, really. Ellie’s face scrunches up at her question.

“Yeah, but like, you’re too busy for it anyways.” She barely looks up from her math worksheet as she says it, like no big deal, though Cherry’s stomach immediately sinks.

“Woah, woah, babe, I am absolutely not too busy for that. I’m never too busy for you, what– why do you think that?” Ellie just shrugs, still intent on her fractions.

“Because of the new book and stuff. You’re very preoccupied.” One of her new vocab words for the week, preoccupied, right. 

“Els, will you look at me, please? I am never too busy for you, okay? None of that shi–stuff matters more than you do. And I’d really love to go to career day, if you want me to be there.” Ellie seems to consider that proposition, a big burst of relief when she nods.

“Yeah, you’re cooler than a lot of the other parents anyways. They all do boring stuff for work.” She’ll take it, trying to temper her grin at her girl’s small praise as she gets back to prepping dinner. She’ll have to remember to wear long sleeves for career day, not wanting to give the PTA moms any more gossip fodder than they already have about her. Single mom, single writer mom with no family to be heard of. Not a very good look to all those upper-crust types, not that she could give a shit about it. But she doesn’t want her black sheepness to rub off on Ellie, play dates and hang outs to be scheduled and all that, so, definitely long sleeves for career day. 

Much later, Ellie in bed reading, and no impending emails or phone calls, Cherry finally takes another look at the tattoo before getting in the shower. 

If nothing else, ever, at least this.

…

“So.” She says it all long and drawn out, her hands clasped behind her back as she sways a little in front of his truck, sooooo. It’s dark out by the time they leave the restaurant, both of them a little loose, a little languid from a few glasses of wine, though he’s still sober enough to feel a lick of nerves run up his spine as he tries to figure out what’s the right next move, what normal people do on a date like this. 

“Sarah is at Tommy’s for the night, if you don’t have to be home just yet?” No, probably not what normal people do on a first date. But no, not their first date either, not really. And nothing normal about this either, not really. Cherry, smiles, all crooked shadows in the faint glow coming from the restaurant. She really is a sight. He’s been stealing sweeping glances all night, collecting her up in pieces in his mind. The bare skin of her thighs, just a suggestion of it with the slip of her dress. Her dress, he thinks she knows that it’s just a little cruel that she’s wearing that dress judging by the way she moves, shoulders rolled back, always a ghost of a grin like she’s getting away with something. Instinct or just plain impulse to reach out for her, to let his knuckles graze along the neckline of her dress, the smallest shiver when he trails from the sweet plunge up along the slope of her shoulder. 

“Ellie was going to a sleepover, so I don’t have to be anywhere until my chauffeur services are needed tomorrow.” 

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm.” 

He is trying, all of his effort, really, to focus on the road when they start driving back to his house. But Cherry isn’t exactly making it easy with the way her hand is splayed on his thigh, and he has to clear his throat when her nails graze along the inseam of his pants. 

“Everything alright?” He only glances away for a beat, though it’s enough time to see the smug curl of her smile.

“You– you’re–” His breath hitches before he can finish that thought, Cherry’s knuckles grazing against his already aching cock through his pants, though her hand is gone just as soon, settling lower, just above his knee. 

“What am I, baby?” 

“I think you know what you are.” Her laugh comes in bells, chirping high as she tips her head back, the shock-white flash of her teeth in the corner of his eye. 

“I think you like it.” High, like wings fluttering each word she says. He doesn’t say anything, his eyes still on the road while he reaches across the console for her, his palm slipping from her shoulder up the slope of her neck, fingers curling around her nape and his thumb stroking the hinge of her jaw, his own silent answer, his. 

They’re both quiet stepping inside his house, lights off so the rooms are washed down in dark swaths of shadow. Up the stairs and into his room, she doesn’t look at the books this time, all her attention on him. 

No need to rush, no need to hide, no need to lie about what this really is. A first for two decades later, they can take their time with each other, because there will be plenty more of it to offer, to receive.

“I thought about you, you know.” He knows that she’s talking about a particular kind of thinking about him, her eyes heavy with it. 

“Show me, Cher.” Broken thoughts that somehow still get pieced together, the easy slip of her dress falling around her feet, stepping out of fabric and laying back on his bed. Perfect like this, her knees bent and falling open to the sides. He finds himself sitting down on the edge of the bed, his palm cupping the slope of her calf before sliding down, fingers curling loosely around her ankle. Something to tether him, to convince him that this is real, that all her want is for him. From the start, she was always surprising him, always finding some fresh way to make his head spin. She still is. Propped up on one elbow, her other palm trailing down the center of her chest, pausing there to let her fingers graze against her nipple, the smallest hitch of her breath making his cock pulse. And then lower, his eyes going heavy watching her hand move over the soft clench of her stomach before settling just over her pelvis. Forefinger and middle spreading herself open for him to see, swollen and pearling pleasure, obscene and a little world-ending. 

And it’s his name. His name that she whispers when she dips two of her fingers into her cunt, his hand curling a little closer around her ankle at the sight and sound. A slick smear of heat, the way the tendons in her hips jump with the effort of staying splayed for him, slack and then tense all over when the pads of her fingers catch against her clit. 

Please, not enough, please, want you. But he wants to see, her preening pleas falling on deaf ears. Because he wants to see how she thought about him all those miles away, years away, and aching for him. And he was aching for her too. Go on, Cher, just like that. She huffs, brow pulling down in a pinch of frustration, but she still allows, the small jump of her wrist, the veins in her hand jittering as two fingers find a stuttered rhythm, her hips tilting into each thrust. And he’s mean for doing this, cruel even, slipping sorry beneath his palm as it skates up her shin, smoothing and soothing. I know, I know, it’s not enough, is it? Never enough he thinks, it was never enough. 

“Stop teasing, come here.” Never saying no to her, and he already knows it, making as quick work as he can of the buttons of his shirt, the warm flush of bare skin against bare skin when he finally settles between her legs, one palm splayed next to her temple and the other bunched in the sheets beside her hip. All brilliant machinery, two bodies moving together like they never stopped, her knee hitching up along his hip as his palm slides down along the soft skin of the inside of her thigh. He rests his thumb over her clit, presence more than anything else, though Cherry doesn’t allow that for long, another huff, another don’t tease that he chases after with a hard stamp of a kiss. 

And when he finally spreads her open with one shuddering snap of his hips, his breath gets caught in his chest, pleasure finally catching up to him and crackling down his spine. His mouth rests open and wanting below the dip of her clavicle, the slight press of skin that comes with each of her inhales, like a bird beating around in her ribs, short and stuttered and certain. 

Quiet whispers, need you to move, baby, that word never failing to snare his mind, all he can do to give her what she wants with a slow roll of his hips that’s already turning greedy in the way he grinds into the plush of her ass at the end, a high sound stopping itself in the back of her throat. 

And no, not taking their time, both of them growing desperate for that tight furl of pleasure settling between them. Just a little obscene in the way the bed scrapes against the floor with every thrust, the sound melding and mixing with the breathy little moans Cherry can’t seem to stop, not that he would want her to. He groans when he reaches between them to thumb at her clit, her cunt dripping around him, a dizzying flutter of heat that he wants more of. And when Cherry says more, right there something snaps in him, animal, incessant in the way he slips his palms under the swell of her ass, lifting her hips up so her thighs rest over his, fucking up into her from his haunches, strong enough that he can do that now, move and make her with his hands like this. Pulled taut, her body one long line of pleasure, he watches the perfect tendons in her throat jump with a whine of his name. 

It’s a devastating heat when she does come, spine arching before she slumps down in his grasp. He stills inside her, a whimper in her throat when his hips absent-mindedly shift against hers. C’mere, c’mere, pulling him down, her palms running up his sides before slipping over his shoulders, mapping him out as she catches her breath.

“I love you so much, Joel.” The sound he makes is pathetic at best, a little broken battering in his ribs. And he should ask if she’s good, if he can, if it’s okay for him to, but he needs it so bad, needs her so bad that he’s already finding that rhythm again, harsh breaths with each thrust. Not far behind her, not with the way she’s murmuring all her want into his ear, something that sounds like love when that pleasure finally snaps and shimmers under his skin. 

Perfect like this in the after, holding onto each other, mouths finding whatever slip of skin they can, kissing it better. 

“It’s you and me, Cher. I love you.” Her fingers still in their gentle sweep through his hair, a little tug to get his eyes up to hers. 

“Plus two.” Confused at first, he has to laugh when his brain catches up to what she’s saying.

“Right, you and me, plus two.” 

…

Her least favorite time of the day, or night, really. Ellie asleep, just her and the blinking cursor in her word document. It’s about this time every night that it settles back in under her skin. She doesn’t know what to call it. Loneliness feels pitiful, and patently untrue because she has her girl, and that’s all she needs. It’s like an ache, like a physical lack that she manages to forget about in all the fret and fuss of the day, still there, still sore. 

Tonight, something particular to soothe that ache. That damn web page, and that damn photo of him. Different, older, but still him. A small part of her, a young part, wonders if he has read her books, if he’s seen her photo on the dust jackets and traced all the small nicks and nips of time the same way that she does now, her face pressed close to the screen of her computer to collect up any new detail. 

She quits while she’s ahead, sigh, shut the whole thing off, rubbing the heels of her palms into her eyes to try to stamp out the picture of him. 

An ache, a want, that has been there for nearly two decades. When Will had told her about their parents moving out of Austin, hope had been quick to flicker up and around her ribs, a silly thing. Silly to ache like this, to want like this, to presume that he’s been waiting around for her. 

She’s been waiting for him though, she realizes. Wanting for him. So would it be so crazy to think that, maybe, he’s been wanting for her too?

........................................

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#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #the last of us #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller fics #joel miller story #joel miller series #joel miller au

[beefrobeefcal]

Some angst??? Idk. Maybe there’s something here. You decide.

This is after Frankie tells mouse that he is as big as he wants to get. Mouse, being the wonderful partner she is, listens to his request and stops encouraging any extra ~indulging~ to help him maintain/lose weight.

BUT each time they pass a gelato shop without going in or mouse says no to a dessert menu, it stings. It’s as if he’s been left hanging for a kiss or like he’s been left on read.

Food has become an avenue of affection, and now that it’s closed he’s realizing how much it means to him. And even though he’s the one that asked for this, he feels like he’s going crazy being denied in this way.

To Nonnie, Love Beefro

The bitch is back. Need we say more?

--------<3---------

Beefro Proudly Presents:

a Chubby!Frankie one shot

The Catfish & The Mouse: All Pent Up & Nowhere to Go

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Pregnant Fem!Reader

Summary: A communication breakdown causes a lot of angst.

Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI)

Word Count: 3,546

Content Warning: weight talk, angsty angsty, self esteem issues, communication breakdown, allusions to oral (f-receiving), feederism talk, car smut, masturbation, p in the v, established relationship

Author's Notes: I know this deviated from the original ask, but I hope this suffices, Nonnie. It's not as sweet or innocent as I think you were looking for. Thank you @xdaddysprincessxx for beta'ing & offering ideas! Thank you to @neverwheremoonchild for also beta'ing & being their every awesome supportive self.

Things were rough, that much was true. After the night that Frankie had confided in you that he felt he was big enough then thinking out loud about how maybe he was getting too big, you’d done your best to keep his meals at standard portions and not offered anything indulgent to him. 

On a Saturday, Benny had stopped by to return the snow shovel he’d borrowed from Frankie. Having not seen him in a while, you stepped back into the house to let the guys catch up. But you heard everything through the kitchen window as the guys chatted in the backyard. 

“Fish! Holy shit! You losing weight? Last I saw you, you looked... you were bigger!”, Benny chirped with a huge smile on his face, patting Frankie on the shoulder. 

“Yeah... well, you know... was getting pretty big... wanna keep the Mrs. Happy...” 

You almost dropped the knife while you were chopping vegetables.  

You peaked out the window and saw Benny’s face twist in confusion as he looked at Frankie. “I... dude, I thought... I mean, if you’re serious about it, I could always use your help. Trying to become a personal trainer... you know, I need to personally train someone...?” 

It wasn’t like Frankie hadn’t specifically said to you that he might be too big, but the way you jumped at his words and completely changed how you fed him – how you cared for him – was jarring. To see his portion sizes shrink so quickly and not be offered a dessert was disappointing for him. At the rate you changed everything, he couldn’t help but feel that you had wanted him to lose weight. Were you embarrassed to be seen with him like that? Were you glad to have a smaller partner? Did his body disgust you and were you doing a good job being supportive?  

Frankie’s mind would churn and whirl through every insecurity almost nightly as you slept peacefully next to him. When Benny offered to help him slim down further, he thought you would be happier, but it only made him feel worse about himself, and he didn’t know how to tell you. He didn’t want to disappoint you.  

Almost four months since Benny offered, Frankie had shrunk. Not by mass proportions, but enough that his silhouette was definitely smaller. It could have been because he wasn’t constantly heaving around a big, full belly anymore, but his clothing was no longer pulled tight across his middle. You did your best not to say anything about his body or comment on his eating, and despite your disappointment at his changing physique, you kept up a supportive and positive attitude. You had no idea that withholding that was eating Frankie up inside. 

The positive side of this was that Frankie’s broad shoulders were definitely broader and his arms were thicker and more muscular. But Frankie was miserable; he missed how you looked at him adoringly as he ate, or how you would squirm under his weight. He’d pulled away and was irritated almost all the time when he was home. He'd barely touched you in the past two months, and it left you wondering why he had become so removed. You’d tried talking to him, crawling onto his lap in nothing but a smile, but he’d declined, saying something along the line of being tired. Needless to say, the dejection had caused your vibrator and dildo collection to increase. 

Frankie texted you on a Friday evening and said he was going to the gym with Benny, and you could eat without him.  Your heart sank when you read the message and you ate your pathetic peanut butter and jam sandwich alone at the table. Your sadness quickly turned to anger with a smack of horniness; he’d gone from needing to make you scream his name and come on his hands, mouth and cock almost daily to barely looking at you, and you had only done what you thought he wanted you to. Not bothering to clear the table, you stomped off to your bedroom and grabbed one of your toys from the drawer. It was a newer one that was specifically used on your clit, and it was the closest thing to his mouth you could get. Not bothering to look at the time, you got to work, making yourself whine and pant, starting the ritual you’d created every time you missed his touch.  

You were so engrossed and close to climax that you didn’t hear Frankie’s truck pull up or the door open. You didn’t hear him come down the hallway because he no longer called out your name; he had stopped doing that a month ago. You didn’t hear him standing in the hallway, rocking between his feet anxiously, listening to you pulling those sounds that he used to out of your mouth. You didn’t hear the hurt that was boiling over into frustration and anger in his mind.  

You did, however, hear the bedroom door open as you came, and when your eyes met his, you barely recognized the broad, angry man standing in your doorway. 

“What. The. Fuck.”, he snarled through gritted teeth. In his heightened state, he couldn’t differentiate whether his anger was at you for what you were doing or at him for not willing to do it to you himself. 

“Frankie... baby... hi...”, you said softly, reaching your hand out to him, beckoning him to join you. 

“What the FUCK is that?”, he barked, clearly hurt, and pointing to the vibrator in your hand. 

You jumped at his harsh, loud tone, then closed your legs and pulled your knees to your body. Swallowing hard, you tried to find your voice, “Honey... I just... I needed...” 

He stepped into your room, his hulking form at the end of the bed. His eyes darted between your face and the vibrator. For the first time ever in your relationship, he felt unneeded and replaced. Betrayal broke out on his face, and he yelled, “You needed what? To replace me? Let me know I can’t keep you happy, so you put of a fucking show for me to come home to?” 

This was not your Frankie. Why was he mad? He’d never been angry before when he’d walk in on you masturbating in the past. He used to take it as the warm up act before he got to the main event, even telling you to finish for him before he got involved.  

“Baby... honey, no! I could never replace you! I just... I wanted a release... I didn’t think it was a big deal!” 

“That’s why you had to hide it then, huh?”, he yelled again, this time, sadness and hurt clearly in his voice. He didn’t know how to tell you the deep hurt he felt, thinking you were hiding this from him; thinking you didn't want him anymore, “Wait till I’m not home and then fuck yourself? Don’t need me anymore?” 

You saw his body language show more than his words could say. He was hurting and had been hurting for a while. You had no clue that he was making this whole big change for you, and now you’d basically told him that after all that hard work, you’d replaced him. No, you had no idea what was running through his head. All you knew was that you were tired of being rebuffed and ignored and wanted to give yourself some much needed pleasure and release and he was mad at you for it. 

“How fucking dare you! You barely even look at me anymore – let alone touch me – and you want to give me shit for wanting to-to feel good?”, you yelled back, standing up from the bed. His face fell and his big brown eyes widened. Your emotions were getting the better of you, and you could feel the hot tears begin to flood your eyes. Your voice cracked. “What is happening, Frankie? Talk to me!” 

He said nothing. He just turned and hurried out of the room, and you heard the back door slam shut and the garage door open. You waited to hear the truck start, but nothing came. You grabbed your things from the bathroom and bedroom and settled into the guest room. 

After having a shower in the guest bathroom, you’d crawled into the guest bed and tried to sooth yourself by scrolling through your phone. It was only once you heard Frankie come back into the house that you put your phone down. You saw his shadow pass the guestroom door, heading to your room, and then come back out and hover in front of the door. You wanted to call out to him, but it seemed fruitless. He’s turned down so many of your advances and chances to open up, you figured this was it. If he wanted it, he had to make the move. 

Your heart broke for a second time that night as the shadow retreated back down the hallway, and you heard your bedroom door close. 

Your night was restless; you tossed and turned, never able to find a spot that was comfortable. By the time morning light was pouring in through the window, you’d resigned to the fact that you were not going to get more than a few hours of sleep.  

As you laid in bed, trying to decide how to tackle the awkwardness that was sure to come from your next interaction with Frankie, your phone buzzed and your heard his buzz, too, from the next room.  

Calendar Reminder! - 12:00 pm – Taste of the Town! Food Truck Festival 

You groaned quietly, turning off the reminder. You’d bought tickets months ago for this, before Frankie’s health kick, at his request. You’d already made up your mind that he wouldn’t want to go – you weren’t going to make him – and opened up your messages to ask the group chat if anyone wanted the tickets.  

As you typed, a notification popped up from Frankie.  

You still wanna go? 

You were stunned. You knew he knew you’d read the message, and you wanted to answer, desperately clawing at any shred of attention he was willing to give you, but he was still on your shit list. 

Was gonna ask the guys and Hannah if they wanted the tickets. Assumed you wouldn’t want to.  

Through the walls, you heard him get out of bed and rip open the bedroom door. You got out of bed and waited for him to come bursting through the guestroom door, but instead he knocked. 

“Mouse? I-I think... I want to go with you. Might be fun, baby...” 

His voice was soft and pleading, and it made you melt. But you wanted an apology, an explanation!  

“It’s okay... I know it’s not your thing anymore...” 

The door opened up and Frankie stood in front of you with an adorable pout on his face.  

“No. I want to go. With you. I want to go with you.” 

You’d conceded and now that you were standing outside in the sunshine with Frankie as he ate a hot dog, you were glad you did. While the conversation was a bit awkward and stilted, he was at least talking to you.  

You mind wandered, watching the other happy couples walking hand in hand, when Frankie’s voice pulled you back.  

“Mouse? You gonna eat that?” 

You turned to him, then looked where he was pointing – at your hot dog.  

“Oh... no. Go ahead.”, you said quickly. Then as he grabbed it and was about to take a bite, you blurted out, “Are you sure you want another one?” 

You knew it was wrong as you watched Frankie’s eyes fall. He closed his mouth and put the hot dog down onto the picnic table, and sulked. You felt horrible. 

“Honey... I didn’t mean to stop you. I just thought...” 

“Thought what?”, he interjected in a cold, quiet tone. “Thought if I ate that you’d have a fat boyfriend again?” 

You froze, feeling the lump in your throat start. Is that what you had become? That girlfriend? “No... No, I thought it’s what you... I - never mind. You enjoy it, okay?” 

He didn’t look up at you. You did your best to keep the tears at bay, but it was quickly going to be a fruitless endevour. You got up from the table, trying and failing to keep your voice from breaking, “I’m going to get us something to drink, okay?” 

If he tried to stop you or say something, you didn’t know; you were already moving away from him, discreetly wiping your eyes.  

The rest of the afternoon was quiet and somber. Frankie had eaten your hot dog, but avoided anything else except the lemonade you brought him. You were exhausted, physically and emotionally, and you didn’t want this to go on any longer. 

“Frankie?” 

“Hmmm?” 

“I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry. I don’t know what I did to fuck this up, but I want to make it better.” 

He stopped and looked at you. You felt his eyes look over your face, examining you. And he was. He was looking for his Mouse; his sassy, hot tempered, spitfire Mouse. Instead, he saw you looking the way you had for months, and he’d ignored it – sad and scared. He pulled you into a hug and it felt different; not just from the bit of weight he’d lost, but the emotion behind it, and you couldn't place what it was be it felt final. 

“I’m sorry, too, baby.” 

The ride home was quiet; the only sound was the radio on a low volume. You noticed up ahead that traffic was backing up on the highway, and as Frankie slowed the truck to a stop, he swore under his breath. 

Then you heard it. His tummy grumbled. Frankie was hungry. 

“Do you still keep snacks in your truck?” 

Your quiet question broke through the silence and was met with an irritated sigh from Frankie. 

“No. Benny helped me clean it all out.” 

“I have a granola bar in my purse.” 

You pulled out the little, wrapped bar and held it out for him. After a brief hesitation, he took it and ate it. 

Silence. 

“You... you got any more?” 

You smiled to yourself and pulled another one out of your bag, handing it to him, and just as with the first, it disappeared quickly.  

“Can we talk? I feel like we haven’t had a real conversation lately... and I just wanna know how you're doing.”, you pleaded softly. You took a risk and placed your hand on his shoulder. 

He let out a huff. “I hate this.” 

You pulled your hand back and faced forward, and he quickly turned, grabbing your hand. 

“No! No no no! Mouse, no, honey! That’s not what I meant! I mean... I hate this diet!” 

“This diet?” 

He turned back, hand returning to the steering wheel. “Yeah... I hate it. I’m always hungry and I just feel like shit, and I don’t feel like myself and I know this is what you want, but - “ 

“Whoa! Wait... what I want?”, you interjected, sounding almost offended. 

“Yeah. You want this. “, Frankie eyed you before finishing, “... don’t you?” 

“I... no! I thought you wanted this!” 

“Why would you think that?!”, he snapped. 

“Be-because you said you thought you were getting too big so I asked if you wanted to make a change and you said yes! I was trying to be supportive!” 

You didn’t mean to yell that at him, but you were so wound up and just as confused as he was. 

You stared at each other until a horn honking broke the silence. Frankie quickly turned and got the truck moving again. 

“You did this for me? Not because... not because you hated how I looked?” 

You stared at him aghast. “How are you even asking that?!” 

“You made me do it so quickly! Like all of sudden you... you just stopped. Stopped everything! It’s like you wanted it and as soon as I said it, you were elated!” 

“Oh my god, no! Frankie, no! I always felt selfish giving you all this food, and then you said you might not be happy with it... I love how happy I can make you with food and I never stopped! I put the same energy I would have into feeding you into... into not doing it as much!”, you said frantically. “Why didn’t you say anything?  Is this why you’ve ignored me? Why you’ve-you’ve cut me out? Is this why you don’t like me anymore? Don’t want to be around me?” 

Frankie slammed on the brakes and the whole truck lurched. He looked at you with wide eyed, his mouth open in shock. 

The horn behind you sounded again, and if not for the moving traffic, you were sure that that Frankie was ready to jump out and punch the guy behind you’s lights out. 

As soon as an opportunity presented itself, Frankie exited the highway and pulled into a parking lot. He threw the truck into park and ripped his seat belt off, then jumped out of the truck. You stayed put, watching him stalk around to the passenger side and rip the door open.  

“What?!”, he barked, breathing heavily with a panicked face. 

“What??”, you asked back, just as panicked as he was. 

“You think I don’t like you?! That I don’t want to be around you?” 

“Yes!”, you cried out softly, grabbing his face. “You keep pushing me away and I don’t know why!” 

His eyes searched yours before he spoke. 

“Tell me you want me to enjoy eating again.” 

“I... what? Frankie, I’m trying to be serious here!” 

“So am I! Say it! If you mean it, say it!” 

“I...” 

“Tell me you want me to eat everything on my plate.”, he growled, reaching around and unbuckling your seat belt. “Tell me you want me to hit my fucking limit every day at dinner.” 

You felt heat pooling in your core. This was the most animated and hottest you’d seen him in so long.  

“I want -” 

“Tell me you wanna watch my clothes get too small again.” 

He pushed you back and crawled up on the bench and shoved his knee right up to your cunt as he hovered over you.  

“Tell me you want a fat guy to fuck you.” 

“I want you to get fat again and fuck me.” 

From the outside, it was clear what was happening in the truck. The door was wide open and your only saving grace was that you were in a parking lot for a nightclub, and it was 2:30 pm. Regardless, Frankie ate you out in the front seat of the car and you finally made it home around 5:00pm – just in time for dinner. 

You made sure he finished everything you made – lasagna of course! Then, instead of Frankie hoisting himself to the couch, he backed you down the hallway to your bedroom.  

“Never wanna go that long again without your pussy on my mouth, princess...” 

You whined as you gripped his full – albeit smaller – belly. He grunted and one of your hands slid down to his hard cock in his jeans.  

“I don’t want these jeans to fit you anymore, Frankie...”, you cooed as you palmed his cock. “Wanna watch you struggle getting them up... got too skinny for me...” 

Frankie made a groaning sound as his eyes rolled and he shoved you onto the bed. You got your clothes off and frantically helped him remove his and you pulled him down on top of you.  

“Fuck! I missed this!”, you growled, biting his ear lobe.  

He shifted and laid on his side and pulled you into a feverish kiss. As your mouths danced, his hand slid between your legs. He groaned again with how wet you were. 

“Can’t wait... need to fuck this pussy... need to feel it, princess.” 

You nodded dumbly, shoving him to his back and crawling onto him. You spat in your hand, gave his cock a few pumps, then positioned yourself over him and sank down.  

You both let out long, low moans, finally feeling like the missing puzzle piece was found. You started moving and his hands gripped your hips, keeping pace. 

“Say it, princess... say it” 

“I’m gonna make you so fat, Frankie...” 

Benny pulled up to your house, determined to find out why Frankie had started coming up with excuses to avoid work outs. It had been almost two months since the last time he showed up and he’d looked like he’d put on a little weight then. 

“Fish? Mouse? Anyone home?”, he yelled, banging on the door. 

Frankie was sitting on the couch, letting dinner settle, and smiled at you then motioned for you to stay seated.  

“I’ll get it.” 

As soon as the door opened, Benny knew exactly why he wasn’t coming to work outs. Frankie’s stuffed belly was almost nearing where it was when Benny started working with him, and the shirt he was wearing looked to be at its maximum tension.  

He grinned and gently elbowed Frankie’s belly. “See you’re putting in a different kind of work, huh, Fish?” 

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