#the body isn't completely finished yet on either but i had to move on to the sewing

[wolfiesmoon]

Genshin guys as dads 🤭

in honour of finally getting off my ass and finishing mondstat, i bring you genshin men as dads <3 i decided to challenge myself and write for characters i haven't written for at all yet

the reader is gender neutral (u can interpret that the kid was adopted or u can interpret that the kid is biologically yours)

Yk the more i read these guys' lines to get a better idea of their characters the more i think they need a therapy session stat

Characters featured: Diluc, Alhaitham, Childe, Ayato

౨ৎ‧₊˚ ⋅ Diluc Ragnvindr

"Diluc! Diluc, are you in here?" you knocked before opening the door to his office, assuming he's probably there. You were finally returning to the winery late in the evening and wanted to see how your daughter and husband were doing.

Tonight, they should both be at the winery.

But to your surprise, the office was completely empty. You haven't heard a single peep from your daughter yet, either. Usually she'd be running around and yelling, even if she wasn't with Diluc.

You went upstairs to check your bedroom and were met with a most adorable sight when you opened the door. Your daughter was very peacefully asleep, drool and all, on Diluc's chest. Diluc did not seem very pleased with this arrangement, however.

"Welcome home." he sighed upon seeing you walk to the side of the bed.

"Looks like someone's on pillow duty." you teased him, petting your daughter's head.

"Don't make fun of me. She's been running around all day with seemingly no end to it. Sometimes I'm surprised at what her tiny legs are capable of." he leaned his head back, looking up at the ceiling.

"She said she's not tired at all. But she fell asleep almost instantly when she sat on top of me to, umm... bother me." to anyone else, Diluc would seem like he hates this kid with how much he says she bothers or annoys him, but you know that isn't the case.

Whenever she runs up to him to show him something she did, he pats her little head lovingly. He keeps the drawing she made of him in his office, even if he is a bit concerned at how grumpy he looks in her artistic interpretation.

"I wasn't making fun of you... Okay, maybe a little bit." you leaned down, cupping Diluc's face and kissing his cheek. He hummed in dissaproval, but his cheeks turned pink anyways.

"Would you mind joining me? If I can't... I want to know that you're safe, atleast." his eyebrows were creased in worry. You don't know what for, exactly, but you gladly joined him on the bed, hugging him too.

"Is your aim to suffocate me further?" the combined weight of about a quarter of your body and his daughter was not the most freeing in the world.

"No, I just happen to understand the appeal of sleeping on top of you." and you really do. It's always so warm and homey.

"You've worked hard today, dad." you moved some stray hairs out of his face. His tired eyes met yours for a moment before they slipped shut. Hehehe, you need to take a photo of this.

౨ৎ‧₊˚ ⋅ Alhaitham

(let's pretend you live together with him now instead of kaveh haha)

"Dad doesn't love me!" the sudden accusation had you turning your head fast, wanting to know what was going on. "What did he do, sweetie?" the little pout on her pudgy face was adorable.

She ran up to you and hugged your leg. "You still love me, right?" she seemed very worried about your reply. It seems like she isn't in the mood to give a proper answer to your question, though.

"Of course I do. You're very very very special to me." You pat her head gently. She seemed satisfied with your reply, giggling happily at you before running off to play.

.

When Alhaitham returned home that day, he attempted to interact with his daughter, as he tries to every day, but he was utterly ignored.

He looked to you, hoping you'd know the reason, but you just shrugged. "She says you don't love her anymore."

"Hm..." was his only reply.

"That's because he doesn't! I told him 'I love you' yesterday but he didn't say it back!" Your daughter crossed her little arms, scowling at her dad before turning around so she didn't have to look at him.

"So it was that." Alhaitham seemed like he understood the situation properly now. And you realised what happened too, because it happens to you occasionally.

"Sweetie, listen. Your dad likes to wear these thingies in his ears. And when he wears them, he can't hear a thing." You explained in the most child friendly way you could.

"Not even an explosion?" Your daughter finally turned back to look at you and Alhaitham, though her eyes were fixated firmly on you.

"Nope. Nothing at all. When he didn't say 'I love you too' yesterday, it was because he was wearing them and couldn't hear." Your daughter turned her head back with an annoyed 'hmph', but you knew she was listening to you.

"So I propose a hug attack. Whenever you see him wearing them." You smiled evilly, glancing at Alhaitham who shot you a dissaproving glare in return.

"Leave me alone." Your daughter huffed, stomping off down the hallway. Oh well, kids don't always think critically, do they? You have a feeling she's already forgiven him a little, though.

"Children make no sense to me." He admits, and you finally greet him properly with a little welcome home peck.

"That's the fun in it, though." You smiled at him and to your surprise, he smiled right back. As awkward as he can get with the kid, he loves her a whole lot.

౨ৎ‧₊˚ ⋅ Childe

"Mhhhh... what is it?" he mumbled in annoyance when he felt his hand getting shook. His voice sounded quite raspy now.

"Dad... Dad..." turns out it was your son who was pulling on Childe's arm. He looked like he was about to burst into tears any second, now.

As soon as he saw the distress on his son's dimly lit face, his attitude changed and he was overcome with the sudden urge to take revenge on something or someone. Maybe it's the dad instinct.

"I had a nightmare.... I'm scared..." your son sobbed.

By this point, even you woke up, but your body was still mostly asleep, so you were just listening in.

"Come up here." Childe tapped the bed and your son awkwardly climbed up into his arms.

"Was it a scary monster?" Childe asked in an exaggerated scary voice. Your son nodded, gripping onto the front of Childe's shirt.

"In that case... you don't have to worry at all. I always love a challenge." you could practically see the smile on Childe's face. You turn over, opening your eyes slightly. You have to admit, the sight in front of you is adorable.

"What do you mean, dad?" your son sniffled, rubbing the snot away with his tiny hand.

"I'll fight the monster, of course. Oh, how wonderful it would be to see the b-" he winced a little bit when he felt the light slap on his face.

"Ajax, you'll scare him even more." you warned, your own voice raspy. You moved your other hand to ruffle your son's hair to comfort him.

"Ow, clearly, someone doesn't appreciate me enough." Childe rolled his eyes playfully.

Without warning, you lean forward and peck him on the lips. "There. Now I've evened out the slap."

"Just one peck? Well, I suppose we can't do much more right now... Hehe." Childe turned his attention back on your son, stroking his back gently to calm him down.

"Why do you have that look on your face?" you noticed he was smiling strangely.

"What look?" your accusations have been denied. But he sure does have a plan for you later.

౨ৎ‧₊˚ ⋅ Kamisato Ayato

"DAD! Look at where I am!" Your son shouted from somewhere in the tree that was stood in the beautifully maintained garden.

Being the little rebel he is, he climbed the tree despite you telling him multiple times not to.

"Please get down from there. It's unsafe." Ayato tried to reason with him calmly upon noticing him in the treetops.

"Nah, it's so cool up here! I can see the whole estate!" Sometimes, your son's stubborn nature made it hard for him to get along with Ayato. This is one of those cases.

"This is not a joking matter. You could get seriously hurt." Ayato doesn't think he could properly live with himself for a bit if his kid got hurt when he could have prevented it.

"What's going on here?" You joined in, happening to pass by the garden.

"He won't come down. I'm... worried about him." He admits, crossing his arms. Though you do sense a bit of annoyance behind his voice, too.

"Come down. I told you not to climb that tree so many times." You crossed your arms firmly. Your son looked at Ayato's face, then yours and sighed, beginning to descend from the tree. He'd rather avoid a scolding. But his little foot slipped and he suddenly tumbled to the ground.

"Son!" Both of you immediately ran to his side as he started wailing. "Call for healers. Immediately." He seemed fine, looking at him initially, but he might have a broken leg or something.

Both of you stayed by his side the whole time, offering him words of comfort (and a bit of a scolding). It seems like something like this happens almost every week, now. The Kamisato household has certainly gotten livelier ever since getting blessed with your son.

.

"Well, that was certainly an afternoon." You huffed, sitting down behind the table across Ayato.

"I wish he wasn't so reckless and disobedient, sometimes." Ayato held his cheek in worry. He let his son get hurt, again.

"He got that mischief from you." You smiled innocently, sipping your tea.

"Whatever do you mean, dear?" He smiled innocently back.

"I miss days of solitude. We only have moments now. I suppose my life hasn't been a calm one for a long while now, though." He sips his own tea, looking outside at the sunset. Working as hard as he does every day is taxing on the soul.

"Guess we gotta make the most of it." You stood up, sitting back down next to him and playfully pecking his cheek.

"Oh, I see what you mean." He returned the mischevious smile you know and love. Just as he grabbed your waist, though...

"LOOK WHAT I HAVE!" Your son burst into the room, holding a sword. His sword.

"Aren't you supposed to be resting?!"

#˗ˏˋ ★ ♡ 「Wolfie’s other works」 ♡ ★ ˎˊ˗ #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin impact x you #diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc x y/n #childe x reader #childe x you #childe x y/n #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x y/n #kamisato ayato x reader #kamisato ayato x you #ayato x reader

[zh-lele]

12-7 ROOM (part two)

Surviving a week to Donghyuck's charms and jokes can't be so hard... Worst case scenario, you end up completely falling for your brother's best friend.

▪︎Pairing: brother's best friend!Hyuck x fem reader

▪︎Genres: poor attempt at rom com, fluff

▪︎Warnings: alcohol consumption, profanity, suggestive jokes, kissing, and some very light suggestive scenes.

▪︎Word count (part 2): 7721 words

playlist | extra content: mc's IG stories

Author's note: hi everyone :') sorry for being so absent and never posting the final part to 12-7 room. But hey, I finally got the motivation to do it. I've been also writing other things but I don't know when I'll finsih them or post them. Anyways, if you want to take a look, the other things I'm always working on are listed on my wips page. Once again, sorry for taking too long to post this and I hope someone can enjoy it anyway. Thank you so much for the love on part 1! Seriously, thank you. This isn't proof read so tell me if you find any mistakes, please and thank you. Enjoy!

Saturday, 08:37 p.m.

"I feel like we're betraying Mark."

"Why?"

"We're having a sleepover without him," you explain to Donghyuck while you extend your left hand to him, and he places his right hand over your palm, so you can continue painting his nails with a black polish. "You know, we're listening to Bruno Mars, eating watermelon–"

"Aren't we supposed to eat watermelon in the summer?" Donghyuck interrupts you to ask.

"Real watermelon enjoyers eat watermelon no matter what time of the year it is–Hyuck!" you scream after he makes a sudden move to grab a piece of fruit from the bowl and half his index finger ends up covered in black nail polish. "Stop moving your hand!"

"I'm sorry!"

He apologizes and stays still in front of your body, legs crossed and knees touching yours. Donghyuck is so close you can feel his breath in your hair, and even though you know it's impossible for him to hear your heart-rate increasing exponentially, you fear the closeness and the intimacy may give you away. Honestly, by this time you thought you might have figured it out: you had to either rethink your relationship and conclude that you were only going to be friends forever, or accept your feelings and confess to him, no matter what the outcome could be.

But you find yourself finishing Donghyuck's nails and looking up to him, who was–as more often as you thought–already looking at you. He smiles to you sweetly, no teeth on sight, and he looks ridiculous. Donghyuck is wearing a sheet mask with the form of a peach, yet you still find the sight in front of you incredibly endearing. The worst part about it is that you're looking as ridiculous as him, with the lemon-shaped sheet mask covering your face. You feel his thumb gently caress the back of your hand that he was still holding even long after you've finished. And as his soft features are illuminated by the warm dim lights of the lamp and the TV, as he holds your hand and looks at you as if you might be the prettiest lemon he has seen, you get that feeling again.

The comfort, the domesticity. The urge to be his companion, to share moments like this and many more. Every day.

Your phone buzzes as you set an alarm to take the masks off twenty minutes ago.

Donghyuck lets your hand go. He lets go of your heart too—but only for a second. He cradles your face, his soft fingertips pet your jaw, then your cheeks, and you can't hold his gaze anymore. You want to look down, drop your head before you start word-vomiting everything you're feeling and you've been feeling for him since the moment you met, since that first time he cooked ramen for you and you decided you wanted it to be your comfort food forever.

Donghyuck won't let you look down, though. He applies pressure with his fingers in the place where your neck and your jaw meet and with his thumbs on your cheeks. Your lips naturally pout under the pressure and you see it. Donghyuck. Your best friend. The guy you've liked forever now, looking at your lips for what you think it's been like the fourth time this weekend. And it's only been hours since the weekend started.

Is it really going to happen? Are you about to kiss Donghyuck right now? On the living room's couch on a saturday night in, under the dim lights, while Silk Sonic's Love's Train plays in the background and you're wearing fruit-shaped sheet masks?

It is fucking romantic.

Yet it never comes.

It doesn't happen.

Donghyuck just says: "It's time to take the masks off."

And you agree because, well, what the hell are you supposed to do? Just throw yourself all over him like you, maybe, have been imagining? Donghyuck takes your mask off your skin and you take his, that leaves his face looking the softest and smelling like sweet peaches. That definitely doesn't help your situation.

You're incredibly frustrated. Upset, even, like a kid who got denied his candy. (You wish Donghyuck was your candy.) You hate this sleepover now and even wish Mark was here to cock-block the entire situation. That would be less upsetting.

"And?" He asks once both of you have your masks off. "Do I look cuter now?"

Oh, so he's aware he's already incredibly cute.

You can't contain a smile. He's only centimeters away from you after he quickly moves back to look for his glasses. You feel the need to poke his cheeks that look as soft as marshmallows and smell like fucking peaches. Actually, you might feel the need to eat him.

But you don't dare say anything. Only trying to hide your smile looking down, as your face grows red, you let Donghyuck think of his own conclusions after your reaction.

Thing is, you're kind of a coward.

Donghyuck says it's time to netflix and chill, and you laugh because the statement is followed by a "Literally. Don't start thinking about something dirty."

He places himself on the mattress on the floor (the one you've been sleeping since you arrived), a bunch of pillows supporting his back, and makes room for you. He's cheeky enough to pat his stomach to tell you to lie there, between his legs and over his body. Just like that, as if you hadn't been melting before just by holding his hand in yours or having your knees touch. And now he wants you to lie on his stomach?

Are you really that close? If so, why isn't he your boyfriend yet?

You open your eyes wider and point a finger at yourself. "Me. Me?" Your voice comes out full of disbelief.

"Not you. Mark," he says with a roll of his eyes. "Of course it's you! Unless you don't want to lay together?"

"I mean…"

How do you make it sound not so desperate, not too obvious?

You just shrug and say, "Yeah, sure."

Aced it.

Donghyuck's body feels like the softest mattress you've ever laid on, like you could close your eyes and sleep trapped in his limbs forever. And because of the closeness, you can sense the vibrations of his voice traveling from his torso to your ears. His tone is quiet and gentle, talking about what to watch to no one in particular because, even though he's talking to you, you're too concentrated on opening your camera and capturing the moment in a video of the two of you.

"Look how cute," you say, moving your arm to his eye level to show him the video. "You talk in pout when you're really concentrated."

When you're conscious of the surroundings once again, you're sure you've replayed the video with a smile on your face like ten times.

"You should upload that."

"I've posted enough about you," you reply to his suggestion, going back and saving the video to your drafts. "People are gonna think you're my boyfriend or whatever…"

"Would that be so bad?" Donghyuck questions with his eyes fixed on the TV screen. When you move your head back to look up at him, he dares to connect eyes with you. "People thinking I'm your boyfriend?"

Sunday, 12:02 p.m.

Donghyuck had always been clingy.

Yet you didn't know he could be this clingy in the mornings.

Mark has been trying to get Donghyuck out of bed for like ten minutes now, but he won't get up. While your brother is pulling his arm out, Donghyuck pulls Mark's arm in, asking him to join him and sleep 'just a little more'.

Yes, your brother found you both sleeping on the mattress in the living room. No, you and Donghyuck were not clinging to each other (sadly). But Hyuck was for sure clinging to your brother now.

"Mark!" He protests in a sleepy tone. "What do you want if you won't come in?"

"We were supposed to have brunch together," your brother tells Donghyuck again, yet he must be too sleepy to process what's happening.

"I won't go." Donghyuck states and doesn't even open his eyes again. The living room is clear enough, as the winter sun has been hitting for hours now. But it isn't an impediment for him to curl up under the blankets like a burrito and go back to sleep.

Mark drops his shoulders and allows himself to sigh, finally defeated by his heavy-sleeper best friend. "I guess it's just you and me, y/n."

—

Fortunately for you, the weather has been amazing since you arrived in the city where your brother lives. Saturday was no different, with a clear blue sky above your heads despite it being winter, and the sun shining just the right amount to touch your skin and leave it warm. A little breeze messes with you and your brother's freshly dyed hair as you sit outside a coffee shop, brunch almost all devoured on the table. Mark hums to a familiar jazzy tune that plays all the way from inside the café.

And the atmosphere is beautifully calm. But you need to get something out of your chest. For once.

"So," you start and Mark moves eyes from his food to set them on you, expectant of your next words with a mouth full of pancakes and fruit. "I think I like Donghyuck."

Mark starts coughing after hearing you, and you wonder if it is because of the shock of your confession or because he really is that careless to get the food stuck in his throat.

"Yeah, I knew," he confirms once it's clear for him to speak again.

"The fuck you mean 'you knew'?"

"I mean, honestly, it's pretty obvious." Your brother can't hide a smile. He drops the fork to properly talk to you this time. "Like, you've always had some kind of thing… I don't know, I thought I had a special connection with Hyuck," he says pointing at himself, eyes wide with what could look like a little bit of shock. "But you two… You two are something else."

"Oh God," you cover your face in embarrassment even though after your brother's words there's no point in hiding anything anymore. "So you've been watching me acting like a fool in love around Donghyuck all this time, and you said nothing."

"I didn't say anything 'cuz I thought it had to come from you." He shrugs. "Wanted you to feel comfy enough to tell me, even though I had my suspicions, obviously."

"May I ask… Why," you hesitate a little before asking for a third-person perspective. "Why were you suspicious about it?"

"Dude, I don't know," a small laughter escapes him. "You just look like you'd be all over each other if you could."

You just groan in frustration hearing your brother saying you might have been way more obvious than you thought you were. Temperature rises to your cheeks coloring them a little red, and not because of the midday sun hitting right from above your head.

"And you can," Mark says, yet you don't get it, the tilting of your indicating he has to clarify. "Like, you can be all over each other. I don't know why nothing has happened between the two of you yet."

"'Cuz I don't know if he likes me?"

"How could you know if you don't try?"

Your gaze drops to your lap, and you realize you've been playing with the rings of your hands, taking them off and putting them on over and over, indicating the conversation is making you a little nervous.

Mark must notice, since he keeps talking. "Just tell him, dude. Best case scenario, he also likes you, you move out together and make me free from Donghyuck's ass."

The way he puts it makes you laugh, yet there's a slight weight to your eyes, as if tears could start falling down slowly at any time after holding your feelings in for so long. So you take a deep breath, blink a few times and look at the sun.

The sun, shining in its maximum splendor in the middle of the sky. And you wonder what he's doing right now. Donghyuck, or Haechan, as his mother used to call him when he was little. Full Sun, because he's always so bright and energetic, like a happy virus (Mark would also call him a pain in the ass, but you see, it depends on who you ask.)

"Worst case scenario, you remain as good friends," Mark continues. "C'mon, you know him, he's not a dick. You just gotta try talking to him."

You gulp and nod at him, now trying to make eye contact with a subtle smile on your face. Another deep breath. "You're right. Donghyuck won't hurt me, no matter what the outcome is."

Monday, 01:43 a.m.

On Mark's phone...

Meanwhile at the livingroom...

"Hyuck–wait. Can't we go slower?!"

"Look at that!" Donghyuck screams pointing at the TV screen, after taking the airpod off his right ear. You do the same with the one you were using, and the music from the game stops playing in your head. "I got a perfect score!" And he continues to do a silly victory dance, moving his hips from side to side with his arms in the air.

You really don't want to be mad at Donghyuck right now.

"This is so unfair," you tell him, stepping out of the frame and leaving the remote on top of the game console. "You didn't tell me you were this good. And you know I can't dance at all."

"You're right," Donghyuck says sincerely, a hand on his chest, right in front of his heart and all. "I didn't tell you I'm a dancing god and took advantage of your poor dancing skills to win the Just Dance."

You really don't want to get mad at him, but sometimes he makes it pretty much impossible.

"You." A hand comes in contact with Donghyuck's arm. Your hand. "Dirty." Another slap. "Bastard." And another one. "I hate you so much!"

"Hey!" He protests rubbing his arm after you slapped it. "Lying is a sin."

"I'm not lying," you say. "I hate you. You put on the fastest choreo to follow."

Donghyuck follows you around to the kitchen and watches your every move. He's right behind you, his eyes following your motions when you fill a glass with water, when you gulp it down, when you clean it and leave it back on the counter. He's hot on your heels when you come back to the common area and take the inflatable mattress out to get ready to sleep. He's still following your moves carefully when you put on the sheets and when you lay on it with the remote of the TV in hand. He only takes his eyes off your body when the Netflix logo appears on the screen and he notices you're about to watch the show you two started together.

You know he's dying for a word from you.

"You don't mean it," he says, now free of all mocking tones.

"I don't mean what?"

"You don't hate me."

You're pretty sure Donghyuck doesn't need you to confirm that you weren't serious. Naturally, he has always shown himself as a very self-assured and friendly person; It's not normal that people don't like Donghyuck. However, when you meet his eyes, wide and expectant of your response, and perhaps wet with a little insecurity, you understand that things are not always what they seem.

"How could I ever hate you, Hyuck?" you tell him to extend a hand in his direction, inviting him to lay on your side on the mattress. 

Relief takes over his expression, and a wide smile is plastered on his face. He's quick to get comfortable (maybe too comfortable, not that you really mind) laying his head on your lap, and moving your left hand to his hair that looks like it's got longer over the days. You know he wants you to play with it—Donghyuck loves getting his hair played with. The fourth episode of My First First Love starts playing on the TV screen, and you hear Donghyuck sigh contentedly.

The subtle strokes at the hair on his nape get Donghyuck smiling again and exhaling deeper at your tranquil touch. And, not to be biased, but the colored lights coming from the TV highlight the softest, most beautiful face features you've seen in your life. In an act of courage, you move your fingertips from his hair, to his sharp jaw, to his cheekbones, gently caressing the warm skin.

Donghyuck moves his head on your lap until he's no longer watching TV. Neither are you. You're just staring at each other in silence. He's letting you stroke every part of skin until  the tip of your fingers make it to his lips. His plump pink lips that have been tempting you more and more the past days. And he places a kiss there. On the tip of your fingers.

You freeze and grow red. Then he places another kiss, and another, making it three the times you've felt Donghyuck's lips on your skin.

It may be driving you crazy.

He's careful with his movements, so careful it turns almost painful watching him. Donghyuck grabs your wrist and gets up to sit beside your spot on the mattress. Doesn't let go of your hand—instead,  he holds it tenderly, caresses the back of it with his thumb, then places another kiss there.

Four times you've felt Donghyuck's lips on your skin. Five. Six—he just placed a kiss on your palm. Wait, another on your wrist. That's seven kisses so far.

But it's not enough. Now you've felt his lips you want them everywhere, all the time. So when he gets your hand closer to keep kissing you there, you grab his face. Feel the skin there, of his jaw, of his neck, and it's really hot. You think you might even feel the rapid pace of his pulse when you press your fingers on his neck (but it could also be your own.) Lastly, you tangle your fingers in his hair that he has let grow during these weeks of winter break. You tug on it a little, just enough to let him know you want him close. Closer, please.

And Donghyuck sighs, more like he fucking moans.

You wonder if you should say something before moving forward. What about all the things you talked to Mark yesterday? Should you tell him about how you feel before kissing him? What does he want? And what would this be after you kiss?

The call of your name interrupts your torment of thoughts.

"Please," he begs in a whisper, eyes closed as your noses brush against each other. "I'll die if I don't kiss you right now."

A laugh comes out of you because he always has to be that exaggerated, but you decide to set all questions aside for a moment to just dive into him.

He starts off very gently, with his slightly parted lips pressing against yours. They are indeed as fleshy and soft as they look, and taste like a cherries lipbalm. Donghyuck repeatedly places small kisses on your lips until you open your mouth a little more, and he captures your lower lip, biting a bit there. It gets another little tug on his hair from you, a sigh of relief after tasting his mouth after years of longing, and everything becomes more needy.

Donghyuck grabs at both sides of your head to deepen the kiss, smashing lips together repeatedly and kissing you sloppily. When you allow him to, he pushes his tongue into your mouth and you push your body closer to his.

He grabs your wrist not neglecting your lips even a second, as if the both of you were magnetized, and places his palm on your waist inviting you to his lap. It makes you laugh out of nervousness, so Donghyuck opens his eyes to watch you straddle him and place yourself on top of him very carefully.

His touch travels from your waist to the sides of your torso, his right hand in a place that you're sure allows Donghyuck to feel your increased heart rate. Your hands cradle his neck, then tug at the hair of his nape as he observes you kind of mesmerized, inhaling deeply, smiling a little and wetting his lips before you're diving into each other once again.

You've lost count of the amount of times you've felt Donghyuck's sweet lips on you by now. But you're sure of one thing: you don't want it to be the last.

"In case you were still wondering," he breaks the kiss to talk to you. "I like you, kinda a lot."

His hair is slightly disheveled from all the pulling, his lips are shiny and swollen, and he looks a little agitated. In his incredibly dilated black pupils you can see the reflection of your smile.

"I also like you, Hyuck," you finally confess to him. "I like you like, a huge amount."

He lets out a sigh of relief, more like a scream, and you're quick to cover his mouth reminding him that your brother is supposed to be sleeping five meters away from you. Yet, you can't help but laugh at his reaction.

He presses your foreheads together as his hands caress your sides, from your knees, to your waist, and to your lower back. Both your thumbs stroke his cheeks gently before you move to place some smooches there, in each of Donghyuck's moles (that is all over his face.) You think of all the times you imagined doing exactly that and find it hard to believe there's a possibility you could have Donghyuck any time you want now.

You only have to talk it out and see how things could progress between the two of you in the future. In the meantime, you'll keep smooching the literal personification of the sun (that might be because he feels hot as fuck right now, or because his smile is bright as the sun, or maybe he could be both.)

(Still) Monday, 01:00 p.m.

Donghyuck has had his head over the clouds since last night. After a heavy make-out session with you and some cuddling, he went back to his shared bedroom to sleep at like four a.m., being the most quiet possible to not wake your brother up and maybe having him asking what the hell was Donghyuck doing with you in the living room until four in the morning. He can’t escape the knowing smile Mark gives him though, when he wakes up and sees Donghyuck already up and working at his desk.

Donghyuck pretends everything is normal, greeting Mark good morning as usual.

“Good morning, Melk.”

“You sound too happy,” Mark groans in response, still sitting on his bed only half awake.

Donghyuck checks the time on the corner of his computer; one p.m. during holidays is like eight a.m. to Mark. Your brother just sits there for a while and Donghyuck goes back to studying for amoment, until the silence of the room gets interrupted.

“Yo,” Mark calls to attract Donghyuck’s attention. “What you did last night was fucking nasty.”

“What–” Donghyuck tries asking, only to have Mark interrupting him.

“I heard you two going at it," he starts with a very serious expression that gets Donghyuck's blood completely drained from his face. What could've Mark possibly heard? "My sister was telling you to go slower and everything.'' Mark makes some gagging sounds to add to his point and Donghyuck grows as equally embarrassed and amused at your brother’s assumptions.

“You think we fucked?” Donghyuck asks in complete disbelief. An exaggerated nervous laugh follows the question. “With you in the house?” He points a finger at Mark.

“You didn’t?”

“Sorry to tell you what you heard was us playing Just Dance. The last choreo was too hard and y/n couldn’t follow it.”

Donghyuck watches his best friend rub the sleep off his eyes and get up from the bed while he denies with his head, looking kind of defeated. “You’re both the biggest losers I’ve ever known,” Mark says, referring to you and Donghyuck.

“Hey!” Donghyuck starts to defend himself, his eyes grow bigger as his brows go up, and the characteristic Donghyuck pout starts to show, like in every situation a discussion is involved. “It was fun! We had a good time, ask her.”

“Losers made for each other, I swear.” Mark emphasizes his point. “So you didn’t fuck.”

Donghyuck doesn't look up from his math notes to answer. There's no way in hell he's having this conversation looking at Mark in the face. “By now, I’m sure I might be a virgin again.”

“Dude, what the fuck,” Mark can’t contain a laugh, though. “That’s bad for your health. Get your dick wet already.”

“I’m just waiting for the right time with your sister.”

“Hey! You can’t joke like that anymore.” Donghyuck knows by Mark’s tone all the bickering has become dead-serious now. It has always been like this when it’s about you. First they joke a little about it, then Donghyuck reminds Mark how much he truly likes you, and lastly Mark tells Donghyuck to just confess to you already because he’s tired of hearing about it. “If you’re joking about my sister I’m gonna beat you up.” Mark reminds him.

“Sorry.” This time, Donghyuck is brave enough to face his best friend. It’s kind of hard for Donghyuck to believe it when Mark tells him he’s getting beated up, though, when Mark’s wearing the pajamas Johnny got him as a gift recently–some blue panty with a moose on the back that says ‘don’t moose with me’. “I’m not joking about her.”

“I know.” Mark covers the pajamas that distract his friend so much as he puts on his jeans. “You like each other so much it’s disgusting.”

Donghyuck can’t hide his smile after hearing that, and it reminds him of all the kisses you shared last night, which makes him grow red in the face. Nothing a little more bickering with your brother can’t hide.

“You’re sooo cruel to me, Markie.” Donghyuck tries to hug Mark before he’s leaving the room, but morning Mark has always been like a stray cat who doesn’t like affection (unless it comes from Yuta, which Donghyuck can’t comprehend very well but he supposes the japanese has something pretty magnetic.)

“Get off of me!”

“Only a lil’ kiss, pleaaase!”

They struggle at the door of the room and into the common area. Donghyuck with his lips millimeters from Mark's face while Mark tries with all his might to get away from Donghyuck, who can be like a tick. They're so caught up in their things neither of them has noticed you're there, observing the entire interaction.

“Why don’t you go and kiss y/n? I’m sure she’ll enjoy it,” you hear Mark say when he finally frees himself from Donghyuck.

It’s at this moment that you know you are hearing too much, so you clear your throat to let them know that you are there too. They both freeze after turning around and seeing you sitting at the kitchen island. Your brother Mark, the great opportunist and master at escaping from uncomfortable situations, greets you good morning and is off to work in a second, leaving you and Donghyuck alone in the apartment.

You watch Donghyuck get closer to where you’re sitting. He hasn’t changed from his sleeping shorts and the hoodie he was wearing last night–the same hoodie you pulled on as you kissed in the same mattress laying meters behind him. Yet you don’t know how to describe the sensation you’re feeling right now. After seeing the boy you like the most fighting your brother for a kiss, your stomach feels… weird? You know the kind of relationship they have–they’re best friends, they bicker and fight and make up all the time. They live based on Donghyuck love-bombing Mark and Mark denying the affection all the time. But they love each other in a brotherly way, it has always been like that.

It’s not like you expected Donghyuck to want to hug and kiss you and only you after what happened last night, but you kind of did expect it.

Were you jealous of Donghyuck’s best friend, your own brother Mark?

Donghyuck looks at you confused when you don't accept his hug right away. You stop his arms midway, and his eyes look defeated, full of worry. “Did something happen?”

You deny with your head. “I don’t know, that kind of felt weird,” you confess to him.

Donghyuck caresses your arms, feeling you relax from the defensive attitude from before, until he gets your hands together. “What felt weird?”

It’s ridiculous, you know it is and you’re embarrassed about what you’re about to say. Yet, you can’t help but:

“I think I got jealous,” you say and watch his brows furrowed together. “You know, when you were trying to kiss Mark…”

Donghyuck only bursts out laughing and hugs you tightly against his chest, leaving you no time to escape the sudden affection. He smells like fabric softener and feels comfortable like a pillow. And you hate that you love the way his laugh resonates through your entire body when he presses you to himself like that.

“You know I never want to kiss Mark seriously, right? That I only do it ‘cause I know he hates it,” he explains once he’s separated from you, still holding your hands in his and looking you in the eyes. “I don’t want to kiss anyone the way I want to kiss you.”

You look down hiding your smile, thinking he’s cute at first and processing his words then, which makes you laugh a little. Donghyuck realizes right away and starts to laugh too, leaving the seriousness behind.

“Was that too much?” He asks.

You nod in response. “But it’s good to know.”

“Good,” he says before planting a kiss on your cheek. He’s only millimeters away from your face when he speaks again. “No need to be jealous then.”

Donghyuck turns you around on the chair, so your back is pressing against the island and he can stand comfortably between your legs. He starts as he did last night, planting a kiss on your knuckles, then your wrist, but you don’t wanna waste any more time so you free yourself from his hands and start cradling his face. His lips look as tempting as always, maybe even more after you tasted them for the first time.

He notices your look so he gives you a lopsided, attractive smile that you desperately wanna rip off his face.

“How can you look this handsome in the morning?” You ask, admiring all his features.

“I mean, technically it’s past the morning.” he answers in a cocky tone.

“Shut up already.”

You don’t give him time to fight back as you’re sealing his lips with a kiss. It’s slow but deep, and his skin feels warm and soft under your fingertips, all the way from his sharp jaw to his cheekbones. When he bites your lip a little bit to get full access to your mouth, you worry about the breakfast you were having minutes ago, but Donghyuck doesn’t seem to mind:

“Mhmm,” he hums, breaking apart and licking his lips. “You taste like maple syrup.” And he steals another quick kiss from you.

“Yeah,” you say as you turn around to face the kitchen island again. “‘Cause you interrupted my breakfast.”

But despite you showing your back to him and trying to finish your food, Donghyuck won’t let you eat in peace. “Oh yeah,” he murmurs against the skin of your neck after he moves your hair to your left shoulder. He plants a soft kiss on your right side, sending shivers down your spine and making it hard to concentrate on your task. “I’m sooo sorry I interrupted you.” His tone is full of sarcasm as his kisses travel to your jaw and all the way down again. “And you hated it sooo much.”

The metallic sound of your fork falling off your hand and hitting the plate startles the both of you. Donghyuck stops sucking on your neck and you fall out of your trance. Your startled face might be somewhat funny, because Donghyuck starts giggling as you both realize you were enjoying his kisses a little too much.

“Let’s go on a date.”

“All of a sudden?”

He nods with a smile on his face. “It’s your last day here tomorrow. It’s not like we won’t see each other anymore but… I want to take you out before your last day here.”

“Okay,” you agree, matching his smile.

“Okay?” He asks once more and sighs contentedly when you nod your head yes. “I’ll go plan everything. Make sure you’re all mine this afternoon!” And he leaves the room after kissing your right cheek.

(The busiest) Monday, 07:37 p.m.

“Hyuck, come on, there’s seriously no way of winning with those machines.”

“Babe, just one more try. I wanna get something for you.”

Donghyuck has been fighting against a claw machine for what felt like half an hour now. Since none of you weren’t able to win any of the games you tried at the carnival, you really appreciate his determination to win a prize for you this way. Yet you arrived here at five p.m., and after two rounds of bumper cars, after testing your strength at Ring the Bell (and both of you failing embarrassingly), riding the teacups, getting scared to death in the haunted house, and going twice into the Ferris wheel (one time for the sightseeing and pics and another time for kissing at the top of it) your stomach growls with hunger.

“We could’ve paid dinner with all the money you spent on this machine-”

“Wait, I’m about to get it!”

“Let’s just go get dinner.”

“But I’m about to get it!”

And you see it forreal this time: the claw holding a big Pochacco plushie and it falling right into the hole.

“Hyuck, you got it!” You scream in disbelief, a big smile taking over your face (maybe because of the cute plushie or maybe because it meant you were finally going to have some food.)

You watch Donghyuck lose his arm through the hatch and get it back, this time with the stuffed animal in his hand. When he’s presenting it in front of you, the stuffed animal is so big that it blocks your view. You admire it for a second, and then take it into your arms to discover a Donghyuck wearing the biggest smile you've seen in a while. He’s all cozied up, his jacket and stuffed hat making him look like a real life teddy bear. Even so, the cold of the winter has caused the tip of his nose and his cheeks to turn red, somehow making him look even cuter.

“I got it for you!” He says, the excitement not leaving his body even for a second.

You can’t contain yourself and, as an impulse, grab him from the jacket with your free hand and pull forward until your lips are meeting his. Just a short peck as a way of saying thank you, I love it (you.)

Neither of you realizes the little crowd you've drawn around the machines, not until you hear the applause and cheering as you're breaking away from your kiss. You’ve never seen Donghyuck get shy when drawing people’s attention, so this might be your first time noticing him trying to hide under his hat and into your embrace. You laugh it off even when you're equally embarrassed, but thank him for the plushie and tell him to run away from there to get dinner.

—

“I think I’ve liked you from the start,” Donghyuck confesses all of a sudden.

Well, maybe not so all of a sudden. While you two were having your dinner, bottle of beer came after bottle of beer. At some point of the night, you thought it was a good idea to start having soju. Donghyuck said something like “it’s our last night together, we should celebrate and get wasted” to justify your decision. So it may be the full stomachs and the alcohol making you be honest with each other.

“I know I’ve liked you from the start.”

“Aaall the guys knew too…” He slurs his words a little when speaking. “I wouldn't shut up about you.”

You can't hide your drunken, enamored smile when hearing him. But something makes a little noise inside your head. “All the guys knew?” You ask and he nods quickly. “Even Mark?”

“Even Mark,” Donghyuck confirms. “I mean, we always kind of had this joke going around that I was always waiting for you.” He pours himself another drink. “But we both knew it wasn't a joke.”

“Oh god.” You cover your face, embarrassed. “My own brother lied to me,” you say and Donghyuck makes a confused sound, which makes you keep explaining. “He pretended to know nothing about your feelings when I confessed to him that I liked you.”

“I asked him not to say anything.”

“Huh?”

“I wanted to tell you myself how much I like you.”

“Oh god,” it's all you can repeat right now, all these confessions and the alcohol making you grow hot everywhere. “It's so hot inside this restaurant,” you say as you take your jacket off.

Donghyuck knows the red on your cheeks isn't only because of the heat inside the place.

“I like you sooo much,” he says as he watches you giggle out of nervousness. Donghyuck calls your name and holds your hand over the table to try to get you to look at him, but you only giggle and hide your face with your other hand. “I'm in love with you!” 

“Okay, okay!” You're laughing by now, trying to cover his mouth to shut him up and not attract everyone's attention like you did at the carnival. “I'm in love with you too!”

“Good,” he says with an extremely pleased smile, that one that has always attracted you to him so much.

“Good?” you repeat and he nods.

Your phone screen lights up showing it's Mark calling you. You silently tell Donghyuck you're picking up and he lets go of your hand for you to do so.

“Yes?”

“Yo,” you hear Mark answer from the other side. “We're at Yuta's right now, we're working on some music with Taeil and TY so I think I'm just gonna crash here tonight.”

“Uhm, are you sure you don't wanna go back?” You ask and make eye contact with Donghyuck, who narrows his eyes and tilts his head to the side after your question. You only shrug to him as a response.

“Nah, I'll leave the apartment for the two of you so make good use of it.” Your brother answers convincingly.

“Okay, I'll see you in the morning.”

“All right bet, see you in the morning.” And he's quick to hang up.

You take the phone off your ear and look at it confused for a bit, until Donghyuck breaks the silence. “Everything all right with Mark?”

“Yeah,” you say as you put the phone down. “He said he's not going back home tonight.”

“Oh.”

You think of the words your brother said. “Leaving the apartment for the two of you,” and “making good use of it,” and it hits you. A little bit late, but it hits you.

“Oh…” you repeat, a surprised expression now taking over your face.

“Yeah, oh!” Donghyuck agrees. “We're having a real sleepover tonight!”

But by the excitement in Donghyuck's face, the one a little kid would show when told he's sleeping at a friend's, you aren't convinced he thought the same way you and Mark did.

(The last day at your brother's) Tuesday, 09:12 a.m.

The next morning, you wake up pretty confused. When you open your eyes, you're not sleeping at your usual spot. Your surroundings look very different from the living room where you've been sleeping every night. To your right, you spot Donghyuck's desk, filled with physics books, a pile of comics, and the typical empty Red Bull cans. The mattress also feels incredibly comfortable, soft but firm under you. But the most strange thing is the weight over your body, and a cologne you know very well and like very much flooding your senses. That's when you realize Donghyuck is laying all over you, stretched like a starfish.

You laugh and struggle to take your arms under him, and when you wrap them around the boy over you and squeeze, he starts to laugh too.

"Are the curtains open?" You ask in a voice still full of sleep.

He moves his head up to catch the smile on your face. "No?" 

"Then why is the sun so bright in my face?"

The smile spreads on his face and he plants a chaste kiss on your lips. "You're so fucking cheesy." And he kisses you again.

“Get off,” you try to move him from over your face and your body. “I haven’t washed my mouth.”

“I don’t care,” he says, finally moving and sitting at the side of his bed, where you’re still laying in. “I’m not missing a chance to kiss you.”

“You’re sooo fucking cheesy,” you repeat his words.

“And you like me sooo much.” Donghyuck moves to the nightstand and grabs an aspirin and a can of Red Bull and brings them to your mouth. “Take, it’ll make you feel better after all we had last night.”

You sit up a little on the bed to do what he told you, and once you've swallowed the aspirin you let yourself fall back against his pillow. Donghyuck is still sitting on the edge of the bed, exchanging glances with you and holding your hand lovingly. He's wearing the Michael Jackson t-shirt that he likes so much and he's wearing his messy hair, just as you left it after pulling, fixing and messing it up while you kissed him countless times the night before.

You’re leaving today, and it’s like all the feelings you’ve accumulated these past years are hitting right now, all at once.

“I wish I could wake up like this everyday.”

“Hungover?”

“No, not hungover,” you laugh at his question. “With you.”

He smiles and squeezes your hand reassuringly. “We’ll figure it out.”

You sit up in the bed and search for the energy drink on the nightstand. After a few drinks, you’ve figured the morning breath can’t be so bad, so you move to face him properly and grab his face for a real kiss. Donghyuck doesn’t take long to reciprocate and start caressing your entire body. He’s always the first one to take the kisses to other places, so you take the lead this time. You discovered last night that Donghyuck can’t resist the kisses on his neck. You start placing soft kisses, then some licks until you suck a little and he fails to suppress a moan. He laughs it off and calls your name.

“I want to ask something important,” he says, looking you dead-serious in the eyes now, all the jokes and the desire aside. After you nod in response, telling he has your attention, he takes a big breath of courage. “It may seem a little rushed, but after all we’ve shared these years and after this week we’ve spent together, I don’t want you to leave without asking you to go out with me.”

You feel the temperature increase throughout your skin. Is he finally asking you to…

“Be my girlfriend?” As if he knew you from inside and out, he finishes your thoughts out loud.

Temperature reaches your face as well as probably the biggest smile you’ve worn since you got here. You cradle his face, squeeze his cheeks with your hands until a pout is showing and you can’t help but laugh—out of nervousness but also out of happiness, from having the sun in your hands and all for yourself.

“Lee Donghyuck,” you start. “That’d make me the happiest in the world, in the universe.”

“You’re sooo cheesy!” He starts the bickering once again, yet he’s sealing your deal with a kiss on your smile and, of course, you’re returning the affection.

(Later that) Tuesday, 03:30 p.m.

You’re standing in the building’s hallway while your brother struggles to lock the door to the 12-7 apartment. Donghyuck is patiently holding your suitcase, waiting for Mark to be done. They’re going to accompany you to the bus stop that’s coming at four p.m. so you can finally go home to the rest of your family and your normal life—you’ll be back studying and working in a few days, after spending Christmas with the family and Donghyuck, who promised to be there to join the Christmas lunch at your home and—maybe, if he doesn’t chicken out—present himself as your boyfriend to your parents.

“We need to change the door lock before y/n moves in here,” Mark says after finally locking it.

“What?” Donghyuck and you ask in unison. “Moving here?”

“You’re not moving in with Donghyuck? I thought I’d finally be free from him,” your brother answers, kind of disappointed, but not as disappointed as Donghyuck after noticing how bad your brother wants him out.

“But where will you go?” You ask him.

“I made plans to share the floor with Yuta.” 

“That motherfucking japanese!” Donghyuck screams following Mark down the hallway, and you palm his back trying to reassure him, but your boyfriend won’t calm down. “I swear he wants to steal my best friend from me! He’s so jealous of my life!”

“What would he be jealous of, Donghyuck?” Your brother asks tiredly, and you know he’s rolling his eyes even if all you see is his back opening the building’s front door.

“Of our last-longing, incredibly unique friendship, of-fucking-course!” Donghyuck answers like it’s obvious.

“I’m pretty sure you just kept this friendship to get with my sister.”

“Mark?! That’s not true. I love you, man. Mark-Mark, come on!”

taglist: @matchahyuck @sundamariis @thesunsfullmoon @babyjenono @chenfleur @bettyschwallocksyee @sundhaelatte @injunier @justalildumpling @lanadreamie @dhyucktopia @143rachafm @minkyuncutie @bbh-kji @minhosprettywife

#haechan #haechan x reader #nct fanfic #donghyuck x reader #haechan fluff #lee donghyuck x reader #zh-lele

[jellyluvr]

Hii! Could u do a smut where Tate Langdon Is a virgin and begs for me to take his virginity ?

A special present

- Tate langdon x fem reader ⋆ ˚

Okay thought that gif of him was hot af!! Omg he's so cute but anyway I kinda need some more info on this one. Like gender and what type of tate but I'm gonna do that myself. Also, sorry for the wait anon. This has been sitting in my drafts far too long. Tate is 18 too btw (I made him 18 4 this)

Present isn't a present either that's sarcasm

Tw: loss of virginity, tate whining like a baby, wasted orgasm, slow burn I think too, and a mommy kink!! 🥳 (u guys r contagious)

S: tate had been jerking off way too long and he still couldn't finish, so he needed a little help.

☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆

Tate was of course in your room like one be.. jerking off. You weren't home yet. He knew you wouldn't be home for a few minutes, and he had been beating it for like 20. He couldn't find the right way.. the right spot.

It frustrated him. He just wanted to cum and he couldn't even do that? Jesus christ. He was such a loser it was unbelievable. Jerking off in your girlfriends room..

He would've asked you but you would never touch him. Even if it was a hug, you refused. And it was simply because you were not ready. He was ready! He had been ready. And just thinking about it was making him soft. He didn't want to just leave it though.. he wanted to cum. He wanted that feeling.. the feeling of straight bliss run through his body. He craved that.

He leaned back against the wall, looking at his dick sighing. His pants were unzipped, his flap completely open along with the button. His dick was completely out, one hand holding his shirt up as he looked down. He had never been able to use any toys. He couldn't, really. He was 18. That would've been really weird to ask for. It was legal but I mean he couldn't even leave the house. And he wasn't going to ask you for a sex toy.

Tate began to think about you. Mostly your hands while his went back to his dick. A satisfied breath came out of his mouth, his body feeling a little more loose as he continued to touch himself. Just as he was, you walked in, and tate looked up, a smirk going over his lips as he continued. You looked, rolling your eyes before setting your things on your bed.

You acted like you didn't care, but seeing that made your mouth slowly salivate.

"What are you doing?" You said with an annoyed tone, trying to give him a hint for him to leave. Asap. "Thinkin' about you." He smiled, his hand moving a little faster. You looked, your head turning as you bit on your lip, moving to sit on your bed. "Can you not? Go jerk off away from me, please." You complained, and tate was honestly surprised.

He had thought you'd immediately come over and touch his needy dick some.. but you didn't? He stopped, annoyed as well. Maybe this was why he was a virgin.

"Can you please just touch me a little?" You heard him walk over, also kicking his jeans off in the process. You really wanted to, but you couldn't. "No." Tate sighed, plopping back on the bed, your head turning behind you to see his erect dick, standing attention. "Please, momma?"

Tate had seemed to think of the perfect thing. You felt your slick grow a bit, your eyes closing as you turned back forward shaking your head. "No, tate." You said sternly, your voice cracking a bit. Tate licked his lips, smiling as his own hand moved to touch himself. He moved way too quick, little moans and whimpers escaping his mouth. You couldn't help but listen, taking your time to hear his little curses.

"Mm.. fuck." He moaned, bucking his hips, causing the bed to move a little. This was just his little plan. He had a few others if this didn't work, but it didn't seem to work anyway. You reached into your bookbag, grabbing a book before flipping to some page. Tate was seriously pissed now.

"Just a lil' bit? Please.. please mommy. Oh, please. I just need something.." he whimpered some, adding exaggeration as he touched his tip. It felt good, but not good enough. You felt nice too. Your pussy was getting wetter and with dick right behind you, you felt sort of bad. But who would that make you if you touched him? "Or sit on me. Ride me like the bad boy I am, momma."

You bit down on your lip harder, drawing some blood as you threw the book to the side, standing up and turning around to look at him. "Y'know what? I'll fucking touch you. But you're not getting what you want I'll promise you that."

You moved over to the other side of the bed where he was laying before slipping your shorts off and panties, your shirt coming next. You crawled up on the bed, sitting on his stomach as he looked at your tits in awe. His hands moved up to touch them, but you slapped them back immediately. Shaking your head. "Bad boys don't get treats." You pulled his shirt over his head, leaving him naked before moving down on his body, your pussy grazing over his dick perfectly. A small moan escaped his lips, desperate for any attention as he bit down on his lip.

You moved to where you sat on his thighs, his dick infront of you before you spit on it. His hips bucked up, his mouth opening slightly as he whimpered. He craved the stimulation, and he loved the tiniest amount you gave him. You could even feel how hot he was.. how warm his thighs were and his tip a cute pink color. He was lucky he had a nice size. And a pretty face.

Your fist wrapped around his shaft tight, going up and down with no preparation. He choke out a moan, his head darting back against the pillow as his back stiffened. "Fuck, momma.." he growled under his breath, his eyes closed as he became stiff. He was so pathetic. So easy to use. But, you'd be lying if your folds weren't coated in your own arousal.

You pumped him for another few seconds, then ripped your hand off, his dick twitching from the sudden movement. He whimpered more, looking down at his dick before looking at the ceiling with droopy eyes. His mouth became dry as he kept his mouth open slightly, smacking it when it got too deserted.

You moved up a little, guiding his cock in your folds as you rubbed him there for a moment, drawing many.. many moans out of him. "Please... please.." he begged. He wanted you to make him feel better than whatever he had done before, and you moved down on him, your skin plopping down on his as he looked down, feeling how tight you were.

"Fuck fuck fuck.." He said quickly. His chest moved up and down faster, and you moved up a little, then down as you rode him slowly. "Ngh.." his hands moved up to your hips, holding you tight as he grasped for anything to help him. It was a lot. And you were so tight.. so nice to move in. You liked it too. You loved it, and thar was why you got faster. You moved quicker, tates hands going up to your chest while he squeezed your moving tits with a groan.

Your hands cupped his, your body moving much faster as you looked him in the eyes his rolling back with pleasure. "You like that, baby?" You laughed lightly, moaning some yourself. Your hair was beginning to bounce, and tates hands clutched your tits hard, pushing a moan out of you.

Tate looked up at your eyes, at your glimmering face and his breath hitched, watching as the bed began to move with a creak. It continued, and tate was closer and closer to his release. So close.. "I'm gonna cum.. oh god... I'm gonna cum.." he panted, watching as you rode him faster, his mouth making a perfect o as you slipped off of him quickly, right before he came.

But, streams of white painted his chest, his eyes closing as he looked at the mess he made on himself. He didn't even get what we wanted, and he looked up at you, clearly annoying and frustrated. "Why-" he started, "because you were bad. Bad boys don't get their way." You got off of him, your hand traveling down to your throbbing clit as you began to touch yourself, forcing tate to watch.

He couldn't even play with you either.. this hadn't been his plan. Not at all.

｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡.｡:+*ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:+*ﾟ

Don't think this is the best but idk? Mommy shit is leaving a mark on me tho. Yall got me fucked up omg. Also this is based off this one porno I watched. Haha, anyway hope u like it!! I did try but idk if it's really a relatable thing yknow? Also I went way off the request but I hope you enjoy, anon! 🩷

Taglist: @kaismanwich @tatelangdonsgirll @daylas-life @hyperharlz @kaiju-superstar @howtobesasha @luttic @ima0nahlol

And hella short. Sry for that too. And I apologize for the shitty plot ig? I couldn't find anything to make the reader h8 tate.

#evan peters #evan peters characters #evan peters fanfic #evan peters x y/n #evan peters smut #evan peters x reader #evan peters x female reader #tate x reader #tate langdon smut #tate langdon x y/n #tate langdon x you #tate langdon x reader #tate langdon #tate ahs #ahs #american horror murder house #american horror story

[gh0stswh0re]

simon "ghost" riley x virgin reader, pt1

warnings: loss of virginity, alcohol usage, implied f! masturbation, imagined public humiliation, inappropriate relationship with a superior, soap throws up in the corner, author definitely had some better moments but it izzz what it izzz, word count: 2,2k

a/n: happy to announce i finished all five fics, this just happened to be the first one i edited, so enjoy <33 posting two parts cuz i like literarily edging y'all

...

you have no idea how it even started – you were just talking, chatting, killing some time. sure, his fingers brushed against yours as he poured you another drink, sweet and savory with a musky scent, and you nearly dropped the glass. "not holding your liquor so well now, are you, dove?" he chuckled at your efforts of hiding the playful tone of blushy red that painted your cheeks, as he placed the bottle down. sure, soft warmth gathered around his irises, as his eyes bore into yours and you smiled, locking the gaze - your hand quickly covering your lips, hiding the grin that crept by the corners of them. "don't-" he remarked, "you look gorgeous". sure, he shot up a deadly glance at soap when he walked over, inviting the lieutenant to join the group of men drinking at the bar top – he spoke over you, his voice clumsy and slurred. "sergeant-" it was a firm warning, simon's voice low and hoarse, the unwelcoming tone a total opposite of how he spoke with you not even a minute prior. despite being clearly intoxicated, johnny wasn't tone deaf – he stuttered a quick response, alongside an annoyed muffle of "whatever, lt." sure, he moved even closer to you, as you started speaking again – picking the conversation back up as if you were never rudely interrupted. patches of goosebumps threatened to cover the surface of your forearm as he placed his hand against it – fingertips mischievously dancing on the skin. sure, your cheeks burned red as a shy stutter appeared in your voice – messing with the flow of your sentences – and you realized the new sniper tactic you made up with price isn't the hottest topic of the evening.

but it still happened all so fast – the next few words dying in the back of your throat, as his lips brushed against yours, tentatively, the dizzying taste of the harsh liquor spreading throughout your mouth as he dipped his hot tongue inside – slipping past your lips, completely silencing you. his hands were on you in a moment, fingers entangled in your hair – tilting your head to the side, allowing him to deepen the kiss, as you were grabbing handfuls of his jacket.

he nudged his nose against yours, as he pulled back – his lungs burning, begging for oxygen, but you lured him right back into your touch – nobody's ever kissed you like this before and you craved it. sure, you got your moment of butterflies and shy whispers of ''are you sure?'', anxious hands stilled by either side, with lots of teeth bumping – your own perfect low-budget teen movie moment, the one you'd giggle with your friends about – but this, this was different – both sacred and profane, nasty and primal. it weakened your knees, and made your hands tremble, as you tasted the intimacy of the shared breath – it also lit up a desire deep within your core, arousal pooling down your stomach, tingling inside your already dripping cunt – a feeling you weren't yet familiar with. it silenced all the unpleasant noises of the stinky bar – the shitty music, the offbeat singing, the cynical laugh of every idiot that tried his hardest to impress, that fucker soap puking in the corner.

for a moment – just for a split, short moment some sense got to you, and the realization hit – the admiration for your lieutenant, your superior, grew into dark, perverted lust and it was now set on the display for everyone to see. vulnerability spread through your body, as adrenaline mixed with desire ran through your veins – you already felt so naked and just urged him to get out already.

his height is undoubtedly a textbook definition of an advantage – it's intimidating, fear-inducing, leaving his opponents quivering as lumps bob in their throats and fear seeps through their bones. and now, as he holds you in his arms, with your legs closed around his waist, as he slams a door open without ever needing to drop you down on the floor – he feels utter pride in his strength.

oh, and how he simply adores the way he towers over your fragile, petite frame – nearly scared of breaking you in two, as he presses himself against you, physically kicking the air out of your chest and swallowing your guttural cries - his calloused hand gently applies pressure, toying with your cunt through your soaked panties, his fingertips endowed with curiosity – embarrassment is eating away at you, as the lewd, wet noises of skin-on-skin fill the room, your cries echoing off the thin walls – 50/50 there's going to be a noise complaint waiting for you at the front desk in the morning.

he never stops his merciless assault, except for when he gently tugs on your bottom lip, sucking on the red, swollen flesh. "simon-" he hums into the kiss, a needy hand grabbing at your chest, cupping your breasts through the thin fabric of your button-up shirt, his fingers ghosting over your hardened nipples; electric waves of pleasure shooting down your spine as you arch your back into his touch. "sim-" his movements grow faster, quicker, and more desperate each second, as his impatience grows – he's forced his entire hand in your underwear, his palm laying flat against your wet folds as two of his thick digits tease the slit, making you clench over nothingness.

placing both hands on his chest, you slightly pushed him away as you whispered his name – he backed off immediately as if the touch of your skin stung his hand. "shit, i-" he started apologizing, his heart sank deep in his chest – has he misread the situation? has he just forced himself onto you? has he-

placing your right hand on his cheek, fingertips brushing over the skin, caressing it. "simon, i haven't done this before" your unsure voice did nothing to hide the anxiety which filled your mind, as every word barely left your lips – making the entire sentence sound like a question. "what? fucked in a hotel room? it ain't even that dirty, you fancy th-" gods, he was oblivious and you were just about to die – having to admit that you were, in fact, a virgin – never touched or fucked by a man. "no, simon, i haven't done this-" you shut your eyes closed, so tightly you saw white stars sparking in the blackness of your vision, a hand covering your expression of embarrassment, and humiliation – you were just about to get down and dirty with your lieutenant, after months of delicious teasing and endlessly torturous flirting and now was your time to confess? to a man - towering above you, completely shielding you from the outside world – whose hand was glistening wet from your sweet arousal – a pathetic proof of how your cunt clenched around him, taking him in despite him barely inserting the very tips of his fingers. he just wanted to get drunk and nasty, blow off some steam, fuck somebody's brains out and pretend like it never happened in the morning- shit, you could already hear the rumors awaiting you back at the base – "you heard what happened?" "yeah, she fucked lieutenant riley" "no no, not just that-" – that was, of course, if you were to remain in the position – if you were to find a good enough excuse or a decent piece of proof as to why the rumors aren't true – you are a good soldier, fit for the army, and above all aware that having inappropriate relations with your superiors is, well, not appropriate.

"oh-" his response hung in the air, which became heavy and your lungs might have just collapsed under the pressure – but it, at least, brought you back to reality, breaking your train of thought that threatened to derail, killing all the passengers onboard. "oh"

he'd sat you on his lap, one hand resting on the curve of your hip as the other laid flat against your naked chest, fingers carefully kneading the soft flesh – by this point, he already undressed you – carefully, slowly as he studied your expressions with each movement he made; as he popped two buttons of your shirt open, instructing you to do the next one as his sharp gaze pierced through you. as he buckled his hips forward, readjusting his position into a more comfortable one, completely ignoring the growing bulge inside his pants – right now, all that mattered was the pretty girl in front of him, and how she unknowingly rolled her perfect little ass against him, driving him rabid with anticipation. fuck, he'd tell you how long he's been waiting for this, but he's utterly scared he'd make a fool of himself – it would come out cheesy and cliche, no matter how hard he'd try or how many times he'd repeat the dialogue in his head – maybe it would clear your head up, make you realize he's undeserving of this, of you; you'd get up, picking your clothes up and taking them with you, leaving him alone – the taste of you lingering inside his mouth, his heart aching and his dick twitching. he'd dread the idea of waking up the next morning – the monstrous hangover hitting him, wrecking his insides as pain crushed his temples – the worst part? - having to make himself presentable, half–decent for all the eyes that'd stare at him, as whispers shared between bitter mouths and curious ears – "ya heard what happened?" "yeah, he tried to fuck the new girl – heard he couldn't even get it up"

"c'mon, be a good girl 'n show me what you want me t' do" his ridiculously big, and ridiculously intimidating hand was sprawled across your chest – feeling your heartbeat on the tips of his fingers he knew you were anxious – a bit eager too, perhaps? he took your right hand, placing it on the top of his. he quickly looked you up and down – peculiar eyes urging you to move.

which you did – slowly gliding his palm down your stomach, his unmoving fingers fondling your flushed skin – suddenly, you chuckled – bubbly, brightly, all those nice things that make him melt on the inside – you are ticklish? what a pleasant surprise – one he'll certainly make a mental note of. you kept moving lower and lower, uncertainty and hesitation growing visible the closer you got to your –

"such a good fucking slut already" he blurted the words out, his ability to think clearly has long been gone - his brain function reduced down to nothing but shortcuts. feeling the words in your cunt long before your mind would process them, you felt the wetness dripping down your thigh, pooling onto his pants.

you'd yelp at the sudden contact of his index fingers grazing your clit – "you liked that, birdie?" you nodded, silently agreeing as you steadied yourself by placing your hands on his shoulders. repeating the movement, he placed his thumb flat against the swollen, warm numb, dragging out small, slow circles – strangled cries emmited from your vocal cords, as pleasure bloomed deep inside your abdomen, and pure, ecstatic bliss ripped through your core. "feels nice, huh?'' he cooed, watching you take your bottom lip between your teeth – threatening to burst a blood vessel – right before he gripped at your waist, risking to bruise the delicate skin.

it didn't take long for you to cum – barely a minute, surely it couldn't be two. of course, you had touched yourself before – many nights while on duty, mostly thinking of him – how big his frame was as he stood behind your back, carefully examining each step of you putting your gun back together – how firm his voice was, making his orders loud and clear for everyone to hear. how he always stood his ground – even if it meant getting shot at, even if it meant taking a smoke bomb directly in his face – there was hardly anything he wouldn't do to keep his men, and you, safe. you knew, in the depths of your heart and soul, that you weren't supposed to feel that way, but on nights like those; it was hard to keep your thoughts from racing. though, you'd barely dare to softly whisper his name as the orgasm washed over you, let alone dream your lieutenant, the man in the command of your squad, would ever be the one to take your virginity.

yet here you were – cheeks flushed red, chest heavy as you panted for air, a thin layer of sweat glimmering on your forehead, your body collapsed - turned into mush, your muscles stiff as you felt your heartbeat pulsating in every part of your body. mostly feeling pissed that nobody ever told you that being tired could feel this damn good – that this is what you've been craving each and every one of those nights – that the way your fingers fit inside your pussy was simply pitiful compared to his – leaving you undone, and aching in seconds.

sitting up straight, your hands would start to roam – starvingly grabbing at his erection. "getting eager, are we?" he'd taunt you and you'd nod, silently agreeing. you'd slowly slip away from his touch, down onto your knees, gently pushing his thighs apart. he'd lay his back, exhaling with a low, breathy groan, as you worked on the zipper. "i ain't having you doing this, not the first time" he'd stop you, tightly grabbing your wrist.

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost #cod #cod mw2 #cod mw22 #cod ghost #ghost headcanons #simon riley headcanons #simon riley smut #ghost smut #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ns/fw #smut #cod smut

[widowbitessting]

oooooh for the kink thing i’m gonna name a few

-degradation (giving)

-degradation (receiving)

-collaring/leashes

-overstimulation

-orgasm denial

I've been eyeing this one ever since I received it...buckle up lovies &lt;3

Degradation (giving) - pinning this one to both Carol and Natasha. They love nothing more than reducing their sweet little sub and switch into nothing but whimpering, sloppy messes with their words. You're completely drunk on Natasha's strap? Well then her only appropriate reply is: "Look at you lying there and taking my dick so well. My little slut." Carol wakes up in a mood? "Then you can be my personal fuck toy all day, can't you?" While Wanda does try, she prefers praising you to degrading you.

Degradation (receiving) - Wanda. Wanda adores to be degraded especially when she's being pounded into. Carol loves nothing more than to whisper filthy things into Wanda's ear; grinning when her eyes glaze over and her body reacts to what she's saying. One of the first time Carol degraded Wanda, the younger woman soaked her hand.

Collaring/leashes - While Wanda is more inclined with the leashes...Baby is very interested with collars. Wanda adores using a leash on her little one; using it to connect your collar to anything so you can't move. Even better when she can wrap it around your wrists or ankles and pin you to what ever surface she likes. You find collars to be adorable. Especially if they're in your favourite colour you'll flock to it like it's a diamond and ask whichever of the Trio! is nearest to put it on you. If it has a little bell on, even better. You think it's because the Trio! don't want you sneaking up on them. The Trio! know why it's really there - but won't burst your bubble. Not just yet anyway.

Overstimulation - Carol. It's her favourite way to punish either Wanda or Baby. Especially if there's a discreet toy in play too. She has edged you with that specific toy for an entire day before and waited until after dinner to touch you. Opting to give you what you were begging for in abundance - and when you're jerking and crying and begging to stop cumming - "I can't, I can't!" - Carol will just pout down and you and say, "but isn't this what you wanted, little one?"

Orgasm denial - Carol and Natasha. If they don't fancy overstimulation then this is their next bet. They've edged you for a week straight after you bratted a little too hard one evening. So for one whole week you weren't allowed to touch yourself. But they were allowed to touch you. You didn't think it was too bad at first but you quickly realised just how fucked you were. Any opportunity they'd get; one of them would be between your legs. They'd tease you, fill you with their fingers and rub your clit until you're shaking and moaning and begging to cum...then they'd simply stop. Peck your lips and go about their business. Carol and Natasha did this for 7 days. 7 long days. Touching. Teasing. Denying you your finish every time despite your pleas and begs. By the time your punishment had finished, you're so overstimulated and sensitive, that when they do let you cum, it's so overwhelming you genuinely forget how to breathe. It hits you like a train, your orgasm, it happens so quickly. Your legs instantly shiver and shut and you're sobbing, begging them to stop for a reprieve so you can just focus on not trembling.

#natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #carol danvers #reader insert #sugar mommies #sugar mommies!asks #natasha x wanda x carol x reader #sugar mommies drabble #sugar mommies spicy hour #sugar mommies season 2 #sugar mommies asks!

[maple-the-awesome]

That Damned Devil ||

Pairing: Matt Murdock x GN Reader

Words: 3,111

Overview: Matt knows it's petty to be jealous especially given who the 'other man' is, but he also can't help himself when you just won't shut up about the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. Warning: Small mentions of violent/mugging

Marvel Masterlist 🤎 Fandom Masterlist 🤎 Requests

"You've seen this, right?"

There's a flick of heavy paper mere inches away from Matt's face, drawing him to move his head upwards to acknowledge your presence from where you stand in front of his desk. A smirk pulls at the edge of his lips.

"You know I can't see that," while he might not be able to see the paper's contents, he doesn't need sight to know that you're rolling your eyes.

"Heard, seen- whatever! Karen reads the newspaper aloud every morning, does she not? So you at least know what it says," you lift yourself to sit on the edge of the desk, the paper crinkling in your hands as you give it nearly all your attention.

Matt only finds the need to hum while leaning back in his chair with one leg crossed over the other and his hands folded lazily on his lap. Of course he knows what the paper says and he also knows what you're about to say about it, but frankly, he doesn’t care to hear it. Nevertheless, if he dismisses you now, you'll leave in a pout and he'd rather bite on his own sour annoyance than loose even a second of time around you.

As predicated, it doesn't take long before you begin gushing," isn't it wonderful to have our own personal superhero here in Hell's Kitchen-?"

"-I wouldn't say he's a superhero."

"He could be, though. I mean, he has to have some sort of power to take out the number of badies that he does."

"That or he's just plain strong."

"You think so?" You blink, studying the blurry picture printed on the front of the newspaper. The photographer had only just managed to capture Daredevil as he disappeared off some building above a recent crime scene," I suppose he does look like he could have a lot of muscle under that suit."

Matt only presses his lips together in a thin line.

"Well, either way, he's a hero. He managed to save that little girl before the police could even finish the missing person's report! If it weren't for him, who knows what would've happened to that poor thing. I bet she's more than grateful. I sure would be. If anything ever happens to me, I hope Daredevil will come save me; I know I'd be safe then."

"Let's hope it never comes to that," there's a skip to your heartbeat, one that causes him to curse internally at the realization that his words packed more venom than intended. He can't help it. Not only do your praises leave a bitter taste in his mouth, but so does your body's reaction.

Every time you discuss Daredevil, your heartbeat increases and heat races to your cheeks as you tend to fidget with whatever you can. In this case, you keep curling the corners of the newspaper. It feels Matt's stomach with envy, which is utterly ridiculous because he's Daredevil. They're one in the same so if anything he should be happy to have you obsess over his alter ego instead of someone else. Maybe that's the problem; you don't know it's Matt. To you, you are obsessing over someone else, completely unaware that the person of your interest is sitting within arms length.

Before you can acknowledge the clear irritation mixed in his voice, Matt sits up quickly and basically smacks his hand against the braille papers lining his desk," has Foggy come back yet? I need to talk to him about this case."

Of course he knows Foggy isn't back from his coffee run, but it's a change in subject; a distraction.

"No, you know he likes to flirt with that barista," you answer, striking temporary hope in Matt before it's immediately demolished by your next words," do you think Daredevil is okay after last night?"

He tries not to sigh," why wouldn't he be?"

"Well according to witness testimonies, he seemed pretty battered. He did take on an entire gang of traffickers after all," Matt can feel your eyes burning into him, causing him to bow his head more while pretending to read the paper under his touch. He prays his hair and the shadows of the room are doing enough to cover that nasty cut above his left eyebrow and the deep bruise along his cheekbone. You've already asked him about them this morning, no need for you to bring them up again; not now.

"I'm sure he's fine. Aren't you the one who said he's a superhero?"

"Regardless, anyone can be hurt…I really hope he's okay and has someone to help with his injuries, you know? 'can't be nice getting beat up doing good for the city only to go home alone," there's a soft kindness to your words making Matt's heart ache. It's not your fault, but rather his. He shouldn't let himself be tricked on the idea that you're worried about him. In truth, you're only worried about that damned Daredevil, not Matthew Murdock.

"Listen, I have a lot of paperwork to get through right now and I don't really have time for distractions. Can't we talk about...whatever this is some other time?" Matt sits back once again, rubbing his face with one hand which lifts his glasses slightly off his face before they fall back into place over his nose.

You frown, this time noticing the annoyance that rises with every word from him. Shamefully, you push yourself off his desk with a slow nod, making sure to gather your newspaper too," yeah...yeah, of course...Sorry, I'll, um...I'll tell Foggy to talk to you when he gets back."

It breaks Matt's heart to hear that pounding in your chest. Unlike the joyful uplift that follows your thoughts about Daredevil, his own words- the words of your friend and colleague- made the beating rushed and nervous; sad even. Once again, he's made you sad as he always seems to manage, but it's never with ill intent.

He can't help that growing irrational jealousy he feels whenever you go on about your beloved Devil of Hell's Kitchen. Each conversation fills Matt with the desire to have you talk about him, Matthew Murdock, in the same way. Hell, he's even gotten desperate enough to ask Foggy if you ever talk about him when he's not at the office, but alas, you're tight lipped with your only topic surrounding Daredevil…Of course, you're in love with the shadow of the man who actually returns your affections. How ironic.

After taking such a beating the night before, Matt's bones ache in the chill of tonight's air which is no better up on top the building's roof than it is at ground level. Perhaps it would've been wiser to go with Foggy to Josie's instead of that just being some stupid excuse he gave you when you had asked about his plans after work. He admits that he dodged the question a bit too roughly, making you off-put as you mumbled something about checking out a new restaurant in Hudson Yards.

"That sounds fun."

What kind of response is that? He didn't even bother asking why you were going. You never go to fancy restaurants on your own which means you must be going with someone else and had been prompting Matt to ask further questions. Instead, the topic has only recently become a concern of his, making his mind spin so much so that he may or may not be standing on a rooftop a street down from the restaurant in question, listening to see if he can't catch any hints as to who you're with.

He's not stalking you, let that be known. Matt Murdock is no stalker. He's just a worried friend who wants to check up on you while he's in the area. It's a slow night and the restaurant's only a quarter mile outside of Hell's Kitchen, so he has the time on his hands.

He can't deny that small bubble of joy in his chest when hearing you alone, playing games on your phone while waiting for the waiter to bring you the to-go order you made, although, it does make Matt confused. Why did you make an effort of telling him about the restaurant if you were only going to get to-go?

You leave the restaurant with the bag in hand, your pace unrushed as you make your way to the bus stop. If Matt didn't know any better, he'd say you seem down in spirits by the way you drag your feet and sigh to yourself, but he excuses this as you being tired from such a long work day.

Either way, he plans to keep an ear tied to your movements until you reach the safety of the stop, however, his attention is temporarily divided by the sound of quickened heartbeats following a few feet behind in your wake.

Three men with stocky builds track after you, keeping a safe distance until picking up their pace once entering a stretch of street with no eyes. Matt knows you sense them by that point as well, so much being clear by the way you keep turning to glance over your shoulder and begin to walk faster with your phone clenched in hand.

You bring the phone to your ear, hopelessly listening to the endless buzzing before the sound turns into a familiar voicemail. You're calling him, but of course he doesn't carry his phone when defending the streets of Hell's Kitchen. Personal belongings just defeat the whole secret identity thing.

Despite the voicemail sending a worried chill down your spine, you speak as if knowing Matt can actually hear you and that the men behind you are deaf to the fear lacing your voice," Mattie, hey...I'm almost there, just a block away...Wanna start walking in this direction? Meet me halfway?"

Luckily for you, while you might not realize it and while Matt himself may not have answered, Daredevil can hear you and wordlessly agrees to your request, making his way across the rooftops to the end of the block.

In the meantime, you keep your phone close, feeling nauseous when knowing the men are gaining. A part of you debates calling Foggy or Karen, but then they would realize no one answered the first time. They'd know you're vulnerable for a long enough stretch of time for them to get what they want.

As you fear, regardless of your efforts of speeding up or pretending to have someone else nearby, one of the men suddenly grabs hold of your wrist, harshly tugging you back as you scream. Effortlessly, he manages to pin you back against the building wall, your phone dropping and shattering on the ground along with your to-go bag.

The man holds a heavy hand against your mouth, keeping your cries muffled while his friend comes up at his side, pointing a gun dangerously close to your head as he demands money. When the hand is removed to let you speak, you desperately shake your head," I-I don't have anything on me!"

"Bullshit! We saw you just leave that restaurant!"

"I prepaid!" It's not a lie. You try not to carry money on you if you don't have to, but the thieves clearly don't believe you.

The third man begins pulling at your pockets, flipping them inside out to ensure you truly have nothing hidden. When finally noticing you're telling the truth, the first man curses under his breath," you tellin’ me we did this shit for nothin'!”

“What do we do? We can't just leave 'em. We'll get identified!"

"Yeah, you' right," their buddy agrees, pointing the gun back towards you which causes you to squeeze your eyes closed, crying out a plea for your life despite how helpless it seems in the moment.

You flinch when hearing the gun go off, but instead of feeling immense pain, you feel the pressure from your arms leave. When the men scream, you blink open an eye to see the man with the gun having his arm be twisted backwards by none other than Daredevil before being slammed against the wall beside you with such a force you're sure it breaks his jaw and wrist.

The other men shout, running to defend their friend only for Daredevil to roundhouse kick the first and break the nose of the second with a solid punch, effortlessly knocking the wannabe thieves out while you can only watch in shock.

"Are you okay?"

Your chest is heaving at this point which explains why your breathing is completely uneven and radical. It stabs Matt's heart seeing your tears any day, but this...it's too much. Seeing you cry over a date gone wrong or that time you cut yourself picking up broken glass is one poison, but feeling the way your body racks with fear as you slowly collapse to your knees feet away from him...the amount of sorrow and anger that gives him is lethal.

A part of him wishes the three muggers put up more of a fight so that it would've given him more reason to punch and kick the shit out of them to the point that they'd never want to walk down the street again without checking every shadow twice, but what's done is done and while his love for you fuels the endless need to protect you from all harm, it also desires to comfort you in moments of need.

Lowering himself to his knees beside you, his hand gently places itself on your back to begin rubbing circles, but within seconds of his touch, your arms are suddenly thrown around him as you pull yourself to his chest and push your teary face against his shoulder.

Maybe he should've played his role better. Perhaps he should've been more awkward with his touches and stiffened up when you embraced him because to the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, you're just some random citizen; no one he should feel this comfortable and attached to. The problem is, in this moment and regardless of the suit he currently wears, he's Matt Murdock. To Matt, you're his world; someone he savors every ounce of attention he can get from.

His arms twist around you, holding you as close as possible while trying to hush your cries which soon turn into sobbed words.

"I-I was so scared. I thought...I thought you wouldn't get-get here in time!" You inhale, trying to calm your nerves enough to talk straight, although, you're having a difficult time with that after what has just occurred," how'd you even get here so quickly? You were several blocks away."

He raises an eyebrow at this, not understanding what you're implying," I wasn't that far. 'just around the corner."

"But Josie's is back in Hell's Kitchen. You said you were going there with Foggy tonight. Didn't you go?"

“Oh, that? Something came up with Foggy. I-...” Matt's heart skips a beat. His voice freezes within his throat as he replays your words in his head, attempting to connect the fuzzy dots.

“Were you really just going to try and lie your way out of this?” There’s a small hint of a chuckle to your voice as you pull away from him and give a slight tug to the leather of his suit.

“H-How?” He squeaks.

“...I knew it was you, Matthew,” ever so slowly, you reach your touch to his cheekbone,” I’ve known for weeks.

"I'm not an idiot," you'd sound insulted if not for the wavering of your tears," you come to work with a new cut or bruise nearly every day. You say it's because you're blind, but I've never actually seen you run into anything before. I find it hard to believe you manage to bang yourself up so much at your own house but navigate the office like it's an open room.

"You rarely make plans at night and when you do, they're most likely to be canceled. You tend to wrap our firm up in whatever business Daredevil happens to somehow be involved in whether it be Fisk or Frank, you always try to change the subject when talking about Daredevil...I could really keep going on about this."

Matt opens his mouth only to close it once rethinking his next question. When he finally speaks, his voice is soft while his hand instinctively moves to cover yours, holding it to his cheek to further feel your warmth against the chilly wind," then why didn't you say anything?"

Your eyes shift to the side," you always get upset whenever I mention Daredevil I thought-...I figured you must really not want me to catch on- which I understand, of course. It's not like I'm as close to you as Foggy or Karen- I'm assuming they know anyways based on how they act-"

"-It's not that!" He interrupts in a rush before sighing," it was never that I didn't trust you or that I don’t consider us close…If anything, it's because I'm too close to you. As long as you know I'm Daredevil, regardless of whether you keep it a secret, you're at risk. I never want to imagine any harm coming to you, so I never told you. Even then, I was never upset because I thought you were catching on. I just thought you were in love with Daredevil not knowing I'm him. It was infuriating…”

With an absent blink, you move your thumb over his cheek, outlining where his mask meets his skin," well, only part of that observation is true."

"What?"

"I am in love with Daredevil, but only after knowing you're him."

It’s Matt’s turn to blink, catching on to the way your heartbeat has sped up the same way it always does whenever you talk about Daredevil around him; the same way it does when you’re clearly in love…Of course, how could he be so blind in more ways than one?

Realizing the match in rhythm between both of your hearts, he breathes out your name,” would it be appropriate if I took you out to dinner tonight- since your take out got ruined and all?”

You smile, glancing to the to-go box that had been split over the sidewalk,” I’d love to have dinner with you- Matt Murdock, that is.”

There’s mere seconds between the words leaving your mouth and Matt’s lips being pressed against yours, his arms holding you close as yours grip his shoulders.

Even after pulling away, his lips hover over yours, his hot breath blowing against them,” how about that diner around the corner from my apartment? That way I have time to change. After all, I’m sure people might think it’s strange if Daredevil takes you to dinner.”

He kisses you once again, letting you be the one to pull away this time with a chuckle,” you know, people might think it’s equally strange to see me kissing Daredevil?”

“This is New York. I’m sure they’ve seen worse than someone making out with a superhero.”

“...So are you admitting that you are a superhero then?"

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock #marvel #x reader #x you #daredevil x reader #daredevil #mcu #jealous matt murdock

[poisonedfate]

hi for that prompt list, merwaine + don't shut me out! please <3

hi hi hi! sorry it took so long, haven't figured out how to put the gwaine in my head onto a page just yet, so!!! hope it's still alright. was very fun to write it :)

send me prompts

"Merlin!" the shout echoed through the hall, bouncing sharply between the walls.  He closed his eyes, heavy breath already pushing on his chest - no use running now. He had been lucky all day, noticing Gwaine before the other could see him, turning on his heels in an instant, as if he had never intended to go that way in the first place. Merlin could hear the footsteps behind him grow closer, his own body frozen in place. Breathe out, another sharp inhale, turn around.  "Gwaine!" Merlin put his best smile forward, sounding a lot more excited than Gwaine himself had just a second ago shouting his name.  The knight only deadpanned, head slightly lowered, still marching towards him. For a second, Merlin wondered if he would even stop or simply attempt to walk through him. Into him? At him? Who knows, either way, Gwaine didn't, finally coming to a sharp halt about a palms length away from Merlin.

"Fancy seeing you here," Merlin exclaimed, having to stop himself from wincing.  "Oh, is that so? Guess it must've been the other Merlin who's been avoiding me all day," Gwaine smiled sarcastically, a glint of amusement in his eyes - though it was almost always there. It calmed Merlin down just a pinch, he was only ever in real trouble when the amusement disappeared completely.  "I, uh, I haven't," his smile faded as he cleared his throat, eyes wide. Gwaine nodded, eyebrows lifted, like he couldn't wait to hear what Merlin would come up with. "I've just been, um, a little confused today. You know me, long nights, hazy mornings...and days," he finished, mustering up a laugh.  "I do know," Gwaine said, head cocking to one side, something arrogant in his tone. Stupid, Merlin thought in response, cheeks warming up. "This isn't that," the knight continued.  They stared at each other for a moment, almost like trying to figure out if either of them would back down.  "Gwaine, it's fine, everything's okay," he sighed - was he convincing Gwaine or himself? The other didn't say anything, so Merlin gave him what he hoped was a reassuring nod, before making a move. "Ah, ah ah," Gwaine stopped him almost immediately, finger placed in the middle of his chest, backing him into a wall, "where'd you think you're going, magic man?". Merlin glared at the nickname.  "You can't do this," Gwaine pressed.  "Do what?" his voice was serious now. He could never pretend for long when it came to him - annoyingly persistent that one.  "You can't- don't shut me out, Merls, come on," Gwaine lowered his head with a sigh, trying to catch Merlin's eyes that were focusing somewhere on the other's shoulder. His voice never faltered, it was just as strong as always, though there was a softness around its edges, something inviting.  "You don't have to do this," he replied, quiet, eyes fixed on Gwaine again. He wasn't asking him not to, wasn't telling him he shouldn't. Merlin was telling him he could do this on his own.  "Are you about to tell me it's unnecessarily dangerous or something? Thought you knew me better than that by now, Merls," Gwaine said, his laugh mirroring Merlin's own - light, despite the weight it carried.  The knight placed a hand in the nook between his neck and his shoulder then, thumb brushing lightly against his skin. "Besides, it wouldn't be you without a challenge. And I can never say no to you," Merlin stared at the stupid smile caught on Gwaine's lips. He was really getting worse at this whole lying thing. 

#don't know how to feel about this #let me know what you think!!!! #also #adore you for asking! truly #thank you so much!!!!! #q's #ask game #merwaine

[antoinettedoodles]

Secret Rendezvous

Twst OC x GN!MC/Reader/Yuu (Platonic)

Angst?/Comfort

(No gender mentioned (for reader) as I want to make this as gender neutral as possible)

Warning: I'm still learning how to write and english isn't my first language and I just wanted to share this little thing to the world

You know you don't belong in this world, nor have you ever seen yourself as part of it but some part of you believed that maybe you could be. As great as what you have here in Twisted Wonderland is, you miss your home, oh so deeply. Maybe, the ache in your heart will cease when Ace and Deuce are near, maybe the emptiness of the Ramshackle Dorm can be at ease, even with Grim and the Ghosts but a part of you knew that something felt off.

You get dragged into the most terrible things, everything is a mess whenever you come into contact with it. Maybe, it was your fault, after all?

Would Riddle have overblotted if Ace didn't punch him for your honor? Would he still be okay?

Would Leona's plans have gone through motion if Crowley didn't tell you to intervene?

Would Azul still have his contracts if you didn't ask Leona to turn them into sand?

Would Jamil have completely taken over the dorm if you didn't escape?

Would Vil overblot if no one stopped him from hurting Neige?

Would Idia have been okay if you didn't barge into STYX?

Maybe it was.

It probably was.

It is.

It is.

IT IS.

IT IS.

. . .

You jolted from your bed, the night air chilly from your barely-open window. You tuck the covers around you, making sure your body is encased in the warmth of the blanket, carefully moving through Grim's sleeping body, you walk towards the window, staring at the endless night sky as you recall the heavy weight in your chest.

'Maybe a little walk would clear my thoughts...' You suggested to yourself, maybe the night chill would lull you back to a drowsy state, maybe it would calm your racing thoughts and heavy heart. With nothing to lose, you picked up a jacket that one of the first years had given you and set off into the silent night.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

As you sat under a canopy, your back against the rough bark of the tree, taking in the calm scenery of the evening. Nothing but you and your thoughts as the feelings fester within. The warmth covering you as the thoughts flood in.

You don't belong in this world. If you were to disappear, wouldn't it be easier for everyone?

Quite frankly, You either die or go home and it's easily answerable which one was more probable.

So, you wait for the day that one slip up, and you'll die. Whether it be accidental or intentional, your death would be covered up, never to be known outside of NRC.

Maybe, it would be better if you die, then your misery won't have to fester. You don't have to wait another day for another hopeless chance back to the life that was ripped from you.

And just like that, the tears come flooding in. You know that you actually won't actively kill yourself, you don't have enough strength to try.

So, you sit pitifully in your own shame, waiting for something else to do it for you, yet you fight through it and act like you don't want death to swallow you and end it all, because a part of you wished and believed that maybe they cared more than you expected, more than you think.

A rustle of leaves snapped you out of your deprecation, another entity seemed to be awake in the darkness, "Hello?" They called, their voice soft but cautious. You stood up from you place, walking towards the voice. "Are you...." They trailed off, they seemed closer now, "...alright?" They finished, finally face to face with the unknown person.

Your eyes landed on the pair of black and white rabbit ears that sat atop of their head, with a tiny hat in between, they seem concerned but you assume it's probably pity from how they seem to soften their gaze as they stared at you.

You didn't answer their questions though, your voice too weak and groggy to form a verbal reply. You tried nodding but when the question finally registered in your head it made you ask yourself; 'Am I alright?'

No, you weren't. You felt awful. You felt shameful that a random person would see you in such a state. Crying in the dark like some lost child.

"Oh dear, I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to-" They sputtered out, reaching out to you but holding themselves back, seemingly afraid to touch you, of course they would, you're a mess. Who would try to touch you?

And then you felt it, a handkerchief being carefully dabbed in your eyes, swiping away the tears you didn't realize you were shedding at that moment. "Your head seems crowded... I don't mean to pry" They stated, still carefully drying your tears.

"I'm sorry" You said, turning away from them, as you feel yourself fall to your knees, your body weak from the sudden rush of emotions, "I'm sorry... I just feel so overwhelmed right now and I don't know what to do" You sobbed, head turned down, letting new tears fall into the grass. They kneeled beside you and carefully brought your face to look to them.

Their eyes a shining stormy blue, they looked empathetic. Like they understood you. "I may not know what you're going through or what you're dealing with but please, let me bring you a moment of silence for your thoughts" They said, swiftly caressing your forehead, you felt a surge of magic envelope you.

And for a moment, you let yourself be comforted by this strange rabbit person, as they hum an unknown melody for your ears to listen to. For the darkness to swallow. For your heart to feel comforted by. You let yourself feel peace with someone you don't know.

As the night comes to an end, the sun rising by the horizon, you and the rabbit beast person stayed together, calming the heavy burden of your shame. They didn't force you to speak, they didn't ask you anything. They simply let you take in the comfort of the silence among the trees, being one with the once gloomy forest.

As you hear Grim's calls, you realize that time had truly gone by and then you'd have to say goodbye to the comfort of the stranger. You waved them goodbye as they sunk into the darkness, they bowed and said; "If you need me, It will always be a pleasure to calm your woes"

But before they could leave, you asked; "May I know your name?"

They smiled warmly.

"In time, We'll meet again, dearest one but for now, call me; "The Rabbit"

#disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #disney #twst mc #twst yuu #twisted wonderland mc #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland x mc #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x yuu #twst wonderland x reader #twst oc #twst oc x reader #— my writing ♡

[broodybuck]

The Magic Touch | Series Part 1

Series Summary: The soldier is finally free but he has one big problem, he can't finish. Until he meets a man called Steve who apparently has the magic touch.

Series Tags: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes | Rated E | Tags: 18+ explicit smut, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, Post-Hydra, Bucky Barnes Recovering, no refractory period

[Masterpost]

The first night the soldier sees the blond man, he walks right by him.

He's on his way to get fucked in the back room of a club.

When he walks out, unsatisfied and still hard, he sees the man again. He already knows he's being followed. For what reason, the soldier hasn't figured out yet but honestly he doesn't care.

He walks down the street with his hands clenched into fists. This is the fourth time he's tried to get fucked and couldn't come. It's like his dick only works halfway. He tries to remember if this is something they did to him. He can't recall, they didn't ever focus on pleasure.

He replays it in his mind again. Everything felt right. He was on the brink, so close, and then nothing. He demanded a second round and still nothing. The man looked at him funny when he realized he hadn't come either time. The soldier very much wanted to punch the man in the fucking face to remove that look permanently but the man had done him a favor and with complete anonymity. So the soldier had to spare the man's face... for now.

The blond man is still following and tonight, it aggravates the soldier. He's not in the mood. He's really not in the fucking mood.

He spins around and watches the blond man tuck himself into the shadows of the alley about four feet behind him. The soldier waits, fists still clenched, until the man slowly moves back into the light, revealing himself.

"I'm not here to hurt you," the man says, palms up like he's surrendering.

The soldier could laugh but he doesn't, he's better at staying silent.

The blond man steps a little closer but there's still a foot in between them when he stops.

"I don't mean any trouble, Bucky, honest."

The word Bucky isn't familiar to the soldier. But he determines it insignificant and throws it away rather than hold onto it until he can't write it in his journal to look up later.

The soldier turns on his heels again and this time the man follows openly, not hiding. He follows all the way to the soldier's run-down apartment that he broke into four weeks ago and bolted the doors.

He allows the blond man in. He's no threat, no one is. And the soldier doesn't like being followed. He wants the man to get whatever the fuck he's here for and leave already. But when they step inside, the blond man doesn't look like he's in any hurry. He sits down on one of the wobbly kitchen chairs and crosses a leg over his knee like he's settling in.

The soldier opens the fridge and chugs a protein shake. His body is still more used to liquids — the diet they forced upon him. Thankfully, the modern age sells shakes in delicious flavors now. He switches through four flavors daily. Then attempts to eat some crackers to teach his stomach to like solids again.

When he's done, he tosses the empty bottle into the sink and before turning back around, he squeezes his junk. He's still annoyingly half-hard. And he's pissed. This has been happening for a month and he wants to rip the thing off. If he can't have the payoff of an orgasm what's the point of getting hard?

He turns back around to the man and waits for him to speak. The blond seems content just watching him. The soldier doesn't like that, he's been watched enough. He wants to strangle the blond man now but he doesn't. He waits longer.

Finally, the silence seems the push the man into conversation.

"I'm glad you found a place for yourself," he says looking around at the mess. "And you're eating. We need more calories than most, you know."

The soldier assumes the man knows of his work. It wouldn't be implausible. They were very proud of their prized assassin when they weren't mad at him. More bloodshed, more pride. He's sure this blond man is connected to them. And sure, the soldier's first thought is to eliminate the man but he's not as motivated to kill these days. He's much rather have a fucking orgasm than have to clean up a pool of blood tonight.

Besides, this man is acting much calmer than the others. Much less demanding. And almost like he cares about the soldier's well-being. They only cared about that if the mission would be compromised. Then he got a lot more shakes, more IV, and rest. He liked when they let him sleep outside the freezer. That was a rare luxury.

"How are you feeling?" the blond man asks next.

The soldier doesn't answer, it's still not in his nature to talk much. And most things work themselves out even when he stays quiet. It was always best to stay quiet with them in the past. It seems to be working the same now that he's on his own.

The blond man fidgets in the chair. "I just wanted to see you."

The soldier moves to the mattress on the floor. He knows the move would leave anyone else vulnerable but the soldier's not concerned about the blond man. He could still kill him lying down and he's waiting for him to leave so he can try rubbing one out and seeing if it makes a damn difference tonight.

The blond man's eyes roam up and down the soldier's form, he stands and takes a step closer. That's when his gaze drops to his crotch eyeing it with uncertainty.

The soldier forces his hands in place. It feels harder not to touch himself with someone eying the very spot he wants to.

"I know what you were doing in that club. I could hear from outside," the man says. His eyes slowly move back to the soldier's face. "I could help."

The soldier considers this. He hadn't foreseen the blond man offering himself but then again, it makes no difference to the soldier. Whatever the man knows about his past, he hasn't given the soldier a reason to remove him yet. And if he's offering, the soldier is willing to try as many times as it takes.

The soldier begins to open the fly of his pants, he takes his cock out and sighs when he wraps a hand tightly around it. This is the worst part, it still feels good to go through the motions — jerking off, fucking — and he gets to the very edge. That mounting, tantalizing pleasure that he wants so badly to burst but it never does. Then it's the most frustrating night of halfheartedly stroking himself knowing the real relief will never come.

The blond man unzips his pants and lowers himself onto the mattress, resting on his knees in between the soldier's spread legs.

They start the motions. It's all the same. Lubed fingers open him up, pressing down repeatedly on that sweet spot. The soldier keeps his mouth shut tight. Part of him wants to moan but he's been trained not to make a sound and there's no advantage to sound. So he stays quiet.

He's already loose from earlier so it doesn't take long for the blond man to decide he's ready. He slicks up his cock and rubs it against the rim before pushing in.

The soldier exhales, enjoying the fullness although he knows it'll amount to nothing.

The man pumps in and out of him at a steady pace, plays with his cock, and balls a bit. It always feels nice at this stage. The interesting thing this time is the blond man refusing to break eye contact. It's intense, if the soldier's being honest. No one ever liked holding the soldier's gaze for too long. But the blond man is staring into his eyes like that's his mission.

The blond has been pretty quiet too until eventually, his breath breaks off into a grunt and he falls forward. He pauses, his eyes shut, like he's trying to control something.

Then he leans down, slowly closing in on the soldier. The soldier's reflex is to break his nose — out of habit. There's no reason to get this close to his face but then the man kisses him. It's gentle and quick, a small press of their lips. The soldier keeps his face vacant but internally he recognizes the feeling of surprise. The man does it again, lingering longer this time. The soldier doesn't kiss back just lets the man press against his mouth until the blond drags his teeth down, nipping on his bottom lip.

It makes his mouth tingle only slightly. It's strange. There's no need for that.

The blond man starts pushing in and out of him again. He picks up the pace and the soldier can tell the man is getting closer. He waits for the disappointing end even as he feels his gut coil, his spine heat and the mounting sensations build and build. He knows it's only a matter of time before they amount to nothing.

The blond man squeezes his eyes shut, he leans back and runs his palms up the soldier's chest. He still has the rest of his clothes on but the blond man unzips his jacket and runs his hands down the fabric of his shirt. They slip under the hem, he slides his fingertips up until they find the soldier's nipples. He starts playing with them.

That's nice too, the soldier decides. Not that it'll matter.

The blond man really starts pounding into him now, he's on the edge too, the soldier can tell. And the strength this man has is nice, he's fucking him much harder than the other four strangers have. He has a lot of power in his legs.

It's not going to matter though. The blond man groans to himself, clearly about to reach his climax but he squeezes his eyes again then his hands slide down to the soldier's waist and grab him firmly. The blond man opens his eyes, his gaze focused. The soldier watches the man continue to ram into him, fucking him with determination.

It's good but won't be good enough, the solider thinks right before his hips jolt and a shot of pleasure drives through him. He's never... felt that. Then it happens again and the pool of heat in his gut starts spreading, everything is mounting more than it normally does, past where it typically cuts off.

The soldier's breath cuts short, his muscles tighten, he's... never felt this before. If he didn't know any better he'd swear he was about to come. But that never fucking happens.

The blond man hasn't let up and the closer the soldier feels, the more terrified the soldier is that the man will suddenly stop. Cut it off, not allow him the pleasure he's been chasing for weeks now.

The soldier grabs the man, above his elbows, stares at him a little wide-eyed. The blond smiles like he knows something then fucks him even harder. The soldier didn't think someone could fuck him so hard, god this man is strong. God, it's nice. Fuck, oh fuck, he's gonna... he's really going to...

He almost wants to tell the man how rare this is, how fucking unbelievable it would be if this really happens, but he can't say the words. He just stares up at the man, mouth hanging open in disbelief when the wave slowly crashes over him. When his orgasm takes full effect, it reverberates through him, hard. He comes for multiple minutes, he swears, maybe even longer if he blacked out like he think he might have.

Jesus, it feels so fucking good. All the pleasure he's been after for weeks hits him all at once and keeps hitting him over and over.

He can barely see straight when the pleasure finally begins to ebb away. The soldier sucks in a shocked breath, his lungs are working harder than they have in years. His body deflates when the man carefully pulls out of him. The soldier feels like a sated fish, limp and absolutely ecstatic to feel boneless for the first time.

The blond man leans down to kiss his lips again. He lingers a bit again but no bite this time, it's gentle. He pulls back then and stands.

"Do you want me to go?" the man asks.

The soldier can barely find his words. He's in shock, he's in heaven. He didn't think it was possible to feel this good. God, he's so thankful, he actually wants to thank the man but he can't. Everything inside of him tells him not to speak, don't say a word or it's ruined.

He realized he hasn't said a single word to the man the whole night. But he also can't let this be the last time. He needs this again. He'd pay this man to fuck him every day if he could.

"Can I have your number?" the soldier speaks and his voice sounds rough. He actually hasn't spoken in a few days, he remembers. But he's desperate for this man to return and fuck as many orgasms out of him as he can.

The blond man looks taken aback but he eventually nods and looks around until he spots a notebook and pen in the corner.

Usually, the soldier would protect his journals over his life but he truly doesn't want to move. He swears he's lying on a cloud, his body still thrumming from his orgasm even though minutes have passed by now.

The man opens the book and writes. Then he places the book next to the soldier and stands from the mattress. He rezips his pants and walks himself to the sink to wash his hands.

"I really hope you'll call me," he says before he walks himself out and closes the door behind him.

The soldier turns his head to the open page of his journal next to him. He reads the name written next to the phone number.

"Steve."

#stucky #stucky fic #stucky fanfiction #stucky smut #series part 1 #stucky series

[sicjimin]

— Jiminie Face Off —

a.n : hii ! my first writing after so long .. tbh i feel so rusty, so i apologize if this story isn't any good and just meh. i lost touch to my writing hejsjdjks anyway you all must have know already that this based on jimin's last live. ( i hope he's feeling well already :(( ) anyway .. enjoy !

"Do we still have schedule after this?", Jimin asks as soon as he finished changing his clothes—throwing himself to the couch, closing his eyes, as his hand weakly move to remove his eyeshadow and eyeliner , at the same time still trying to catch his breath and calmed down the adrenaline that's rushing in his body after the recording. His head pounds rhytmically to his heartbeat.

"No .. we're done for today", The manager cleared it, gaining a hum from the artist. "Are you okay, Jimin-ssi?"

"Mhm", Jimin slowly pushed himself up, with a low groan, as his muscles starts to ache. He really pushed himself hard the last few days. Good thing today is the last schedule of his promotions. "Can we go home now?", he asked, blinking rapidly to refocused his sight.

Why is the room spinning a little?

"Yes yes, we can"

The manager stood up from his seat on the couch next to Jimin, holding out a hand for Jimin to take. It takes him few seconds before he finally takes it, standing up on his own two feet. The world was spinning again. He squeezed his eyes shut once more, leaning his forehead as he gently massaged it—can't help a low whimper escapes his mouth.

“Jimin-ssi .. what's wrong?”, the manager asked, concerned. Jimin shakes his head, pressing his lips together.

“No no .. it's fine, just stood up too fast“, he mumbled, not looking at the other man. The manager nods in understanding and guides them to the parking lot of the building.

Jimin leaned on his seat when the security opened the car door for him, immediately closing his eyes yet again—feeling exhaustion hits on him in a full blast. His body starting to hurts—as he plans to catch a good few minutes nap until he arrived to his apartment. It's an hour and half drive anyway, that's good enough to sleep.

He could feel a small headache starting to build at the back of his skull. He sighs deeply, bringing his hand to massage around his temple, feeling the car starts moving. He makes a mental note to take medicine as soon as he arrived—preventing it to become a full blown migraine that he should have seen it coming after working himself to exhaustion.

He has been on it for a month full, without a break if he thinks about it. Completing the album, prerecording then and there, photoshoots, etc etc. Truthfully speaking, it wasn't that hard. Just in some days like this, when everything is almost over, it dawned on him—like his body finally let it to get loose. And he knows he gonna fall sick sooner or later. It always been like that for him.

The manager didn't say much on their drive. It doesn't surprise Jimin in anyway. They were used to such silences between each other—the driver was just too focused on driving to really talk. Sometimes the silence will stretch, sometimes they'd be having some quiet conversations but mostly, it's just a silent ride. Jimin usually can't stand it—most of days he attempt to make few conversation, either it's about his schedule, or asking about his manager's children. Even it didn't last long, they still have talked. Anything. But now he's grateful at his manager silent demeanor. He's just exhausted, mentally and physically drained. He's not sure if he can let out anything other than groan or a whine.

Jimin had no idea where are they right now and how long it have been, when the familiar nausea creeps onto his stomach. He groans quietly, as his hands moves from his head to clutch at his stomach—his breathing getting shallow as he gulps the bile that starts rising in his throat. He tries to breathe evenly and slowly through his mouth—remembering his doctor instructions, while cursing himself to overestimated his motion sickness—hoping it'll keep it away. He didn't want to accept defeat and vomit right now. That would just be embarrassing.

"Hyung", He croaked out after taking 5 consecutive deep breaths, but get a futile results as saliva keeps filling his mouth. Making his tongue thicker and bland. It's uncomfortable.

He squints his eyes, as the light from the outside becomes too bright for him. "Yes? Do you need anything?", the manager said, turning around to look at him. Jimin blinked his eyes, "Do you have mint candy?", He tried to hide a grimace when another wave hit his guts, forcing him to bite his lower lip to keep his lunch in bay.

His manager—has been working too long for him— frowned. Knowing that the question usually meant nothing good. "Are you feeling sick?", he inquired, voice laced with worry as he rummages over his bag, and hands the artist few candies.

Jimin quickly plops one to his mouth, and taking a deep breath. Letting the fresh minty and sweet flavor filling his mouth to battle against the bland one. There was no point to lie, since the manager knew him that well anyway. "Just a bit", he muttered under his breath. "It's fine"

"Want water?", Jimin shook his head, the thought of drinking making his stomach swirls and bloated. "I will just sleep, wake me up if we're arrived", he whispered, and he heard the older sigh heavily. "Okay"

It didn't take long for him to fall asleep—but also didn't take long to stir awake as nausea looming again. Harder this time. He purses his lips, tried his best to sit up—but the motion made his head spin even more. He took a deep breath and try to ignore the painful throbbing behind his eyes as his heart started pounding erratically against his chest. He felt like he's going to throw up.

Jimin squeezed his eyes again as he pressed his fist against his lips. Trying his hardest to stay calm and collected, taking a few controlled deep breath. But the car isn't stopping yet and with his half awake state—his body reacts faster than his brain. Before he could hold it, a burp that he wants to let out, turns wetter than expected, followed by something burning his throat. He can feel the hot, sour liquid traveling up.

Jimin gasps, quickly tighten his hand around his mouth, as he sits up straight. A wave of nausea hit him when he tries to swallow the bitter taste. He sucked a deep breath.

It feels like he's locked in.

He is dizzy, nauseous, and his stomach clenching painfully. "Hyung?" His words came out muffled due to the grip around his mouth. His manager turned towards him, startled when he sees the younger. He didn't need anymore words, quickly rummaging the dashboard and fetch a plastic bag that they keep for time like this. He quietly swats it open and hands it to Jimin. Jimin shakily takes it, holding it against his mouth, trying his best to hold himself as his vision is already blurry from all the movement of the car.

"Do you want us to pull aside?", The latter speaks carefully. He didn't get an answer—but a quiet moan followed with a burp, and sounds of puke comes to the bag. He winces, then instructing the driver to pull aside as he could hear a new gag from the younger.

A tear ran down his face—"Jimin-ah"

Jimin feels awful. His stomach aches badly as the sickness continues climbing higher. He feels like throwing up over and over and sobs. He hates being sick—feeling the pain in his muscles and back from the long hours he put in adding to the cramps, as his stomach contracts again, sending more of his lunch up to the bag. Putting more weight of everything inside to the mix.

It's awful.

"Here", his manager says, handing a bottle of water which Jimin gratefully takes, taking a small hesitant sip as he could feel his stomach still upset on him actually. He barely aware the weight of the bag has gone from him when the manager quietly takes it. His head is too fuzzy to process anything. "Feel better?", the older asks again, taking the bottle as Jimin hands it to him, slumping over the seat.

He didn't even realized the car has stopped. He weakly lift his head, still hesitant to let go the bag as his manager open the door, letting the fresh air come rushing in. "You want to come out?"

Jimin is not sure if he can stand up right now, so he settles facing outside with still holding the bag tightly, as a new wave of vomit comes rushing up his throat. He coughed and gagged a couple of times before his inside calmed down.

"Yeah". Jimin murmurs, closing his eyes. "Thank you hyung". He feels the manager patting his back softly, before he ushered the younger in and hears his door close again.

When Jimin opened his eyes for the second time, the car has stopped. "Jimin-ah, we're arrived", the older informs, and Jimin hums, rubbing his eyes and yawns as the exhaustion hit him again. "Do you need my help?"

Jimin looks up at his manager with a small smile on his face, "No, thanks hyung. I got it. Go home. Have a good night", he said with a little tired voice.

"Alright", the manager replies with a small nod. "Call if you need anything"

Jimin gave him a small nod before pushing himself off the seat. "Thank you," he says, bowing a little, before the car drive off. He sighs, dragging his body up to his unit, still feeling dizzy as his eyes are a little clouded from sleep. He reaches his floor and enters the room, immediately collapsing on the couch. He falls into it, not bothering to take off his shoes, jacket, or even cleaning up before lying down. Closing his eyes.

He's not sleepy, but he's just too tired and worn out to care about anything. And the pain behind his head and the nausea hasn't gone too. Not even slightly.

He lays down like that for awhile, starting to feel his muscles relaxing, despite there's still cramps then and there. He looked at the clock, it's already 9—and he hasn't eat dinner. He's tempted to skip it and just go to his room to sleep. But there's this lingering hunger in him, as he already let out all of his lunch and maybe even breakfast earlier in the car. He needs to eat something. He huffs, can't help a loud whine that escapes his lips, as he pushes himself to clean up and find something to eat.

He finishes the food in no time, ditching the dishes for him to clean up in the morning, and retreats to his room. Throwing himself up to the bed with ease. He closes his eyes, and lets out a slow heavy breath.

There's only ramyeon. And some egg, that's enough as a complimentary. It wasn't a lot, but its food nonetheless. As he starts eating, he notices that his appetite hasn't gotten any better—even though he's hungry and doesn't have an option but to eat. But he can't really focus. His head feels heavy and he has never felt more tired.

He needs to sleep. No. He wants to sleep.

He's tired. Just...really tired. He feels his whole body slowly drifting off. Maybe sleep will come soon. His hand reaching his forehead, as he rubs at his temples. His entire body is sore and he can feel all the pains from the day weighing upon him. He curls himself small, tucking the blanket up high under his chin as he rests on his side and drifts to dreamland, feeling warmth seeping through his body.

***

Jimin know he's sick and fucked right then when he stirs awake in the middle of the night—if the darkness of his room is a right indicator—feeling a prickle burn all over his body, but his hands and feets are freezing cold as he curls it further up. He can barely breathe with his nose clogged up. His throat itch but coughing making him nauseous. His muscles aches especially around his neck areas, and his stomach .. the worst of it all—churns painfully. It feels like his guts lodged up around his diaphragm, in his middle, but also filling around it with gas that makes him feel bloated. Jimin whimpered softly.

He huffs when he suddenly feels like he'll vomit anytime soon, feeling a tightness in his chest and the knot tightening, as he feels his stomach twist and turn in protest. He coughs harshly once, trashing his arm to cover his mouth and nose. His dinner was making a jump to the back of his throat.

It feels like he's in the car all over again. Like someone shaking his bed, swaying it left and right, and spins it as nausea batted at him wave by wave. He keeps on rubbing and control his breathing—the thought of waking up and search for something, medicines, or even just candy ; slips through his mind, but he's too dizzy and weak to actualized it— hoping that this simple act could subside the waves of nausea that crash inside him.

He tries to turn to his back, but finds the sudden movement is causing more discomfort and make the headache worse. With a gasp and a low groan, he tries to relax against his pillows. It's awful.

He shifts again, while trying his best to keeping his stomach in bay. He sneaks his cold ice hands under his shirts, and bites the urge to curse as he feels it gurgle beneath his palm. With a wince, he moves his palms in circle motion, careful to not give too much pressure as he's currently trying not to throw up all over his own sheets.

He's tired. Tired enough to finally give in to sleep and allow himself to drift off to unconsciousness for a little while.

And it does. It takes time but it does.

After few harsh wave that sending him gagging all over his palm—threatening ramyeon he just ate to come up. Slowly but surely, the nausea disappears. He stops shifting, letting his hand rest on his stomach—which still feels heavy and tight, but now less painful.

***

The second time he stirs awake, Jimin assumed he already got enough sleep—if again, the faint sounds of bird and a dimness in his room is anything to go by. But he didn't get to ponder over what time is it or even think where his phone is like he usually did if he wake up, as he already got his mouth full and his hand gripping tightly around it. Brain screaming at him to run run and run, as he tries to untangles himself from the blanket, almost hitting the floor in the process as his dizziness hasn't easing up and standing up too fast is not helping his case.

He barely register anything when he throws himself over the toilet, and hear a splash of mouthful of sick hitting the bowl. He blinks. Taking a deep breath before curled over the toilet with gag, trickles of his dinner flowing freely from his mouth. He shuddered as it burns with the taste of spice. But he didn't get to whine when he burps, then the floodgates opening as a thick stream of undigested noodles plops into the toilet.

Jimin grimaces, squeezing his eyes as tears prickling over it with the horrible sensation filling all his senses. He pants, spitting the thick saliva that dangles over his lower lips, before caught on a deep belch, and a bigger stream coming up and splattering all over the rim of the bowl. He pulls his hand away, coughing hard afterwards and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, wiping away the tears running down his cheeks, the stench of sickness wafting through the bathroom.

He groans, shifting on his heels to get more comfortable as he knows this gonna be a long one. He drag himself to sit straighter before his breath hitched with a sour burp, that continued with deep, strong heaves—pushing all his dinner to come out, mouthful after mouthful, until his stomach was painfully empty and only discolored liquid gurgled up his throat.

Sighing, he drags himself up, ignoring the way his muscles burn and complaint with each movement he makes. He takes two steps towards the sink, turning on the tap before swirling some water into his bitter taste mouth, and throwing it away. He turns off the faucet and looks at himself in the mirror. His face still wet with sweat and red from the fever that still burning on his skin. His hair is sticking to his forehead and his eyelids. His whole person looks terrible as he stares back at his reflection.

By the time he's done, he barely have any energy to flush the mess and clean up himself as he feels weak. He sniffles.

Everything hurts.

With the last remaining energy he had, he curled himself back into the blanket—know well that his fever spikes up yet another notch. He shuts his eyes, and lets himself fall back to sleep.

***

Jimin grunts loudly, as there's a loud ringing—that he knows coming from his phone— that wokes him up. His room is no longer dim, but full of brightness as sunrays seeping through the curtain. He squints his eyes, the bright light piercing them as he tries his best to open them wider. There's an ache in his head too, probably caused by how his body kept tossing and turning throughout his sleep. He groans again, rolling to his side. His body aches, protesting as he tries to move. He pats his bed blindly, wanting to navigate where his phone is.

The ringing doesn't stop and he opens his mouth as his voice comes out hoarse and scratchy, sounding as rough as the sand in an hourglass after being thrown against a stone and repeatedly hit. "What."

"Oh my god, you're finally awake!" Hoseok's cheerful voice filters through the speaker.

"Mhm", Jimin hums, his brain coming empty with the response.

"Let's go out for lunch! Hyung will pay. There's this restaurant that hyung want to try—", Jimin tunes out as his hyung loud voice continues on, talking about food.

His eyes slowly adjust to the light that streams in through his curtains. "Hyung .. i can't", Jimin mumbles weakly when Hoseok stops on the other side.

"Why? Do you have any promotions left?"

" 'm sick", Jimin replies simply, wincing as his voice cracks from dehydration.

"What?!"

All Jimin remembers were Hoseok's loud gasps, he hang up the phone, and he fall asleep again.

He awakes to a banging sound of his apartment door along with the buzzing of his phone. Jimin's eyes flicker open, adjusting themselves to the bright light streaming in. He blinks rapidly, trying to adjust to the sunlight. His vision is blurry. He blinks again.

Everything is fuzzy. Too blurry. But there's someone that waiting at the door, and he should open it to make the banging stop.

He tries to push himself to sitting position, but his body immediately gives up on him; collapsing on the bed as everything swirls around his mind. He groaned, closing his eyes as he tries to focus his gaze somewhere else. It took him another few minutes before he could stand on his wobbly feet, and slowly tracing the walls to keep himself steady as he walks to the door.

"Hobi hyung?", Jimin croaked, his throat scratchy and dry and raw. He cleared it roughly, making it hurt.

"Why—", he's interrupted by a familiar shriek. And the next thing he knows, there are arms around him, and then palms all over his flushed cheeks and forehead as the older fusses over him. "Oh my .. Jiminie .. you're really sick", Hoseok mumbles, worry laced with panic in every words. He holds him close, his palms still pressed onto Jimin's cheeks as Jimin leans against him, and closes his eyes again. It felt warm. It's safe. And he's warm. "I know"

Hoseok shrieks, chattering as he guides him and the younger inside, "How long have you been sick? Have you eat anything? Why don't you call hyung?"

Jimin gulps at the concern. He presses his fingers faintly to his lips as liquid creeping up—"Hyung", Jimin mumbles, tugging the older sleeves to slow down his pace as he halts on his. Hoseok stops his rants about what he's going to make and to do to take care of the younger. "Yeah?"

"Bathroom", Jimin whispers. Feeling nausea licking the back of his throat, and he's pretty sure its bile.

A look of understanding flashes across Hoseok's face, "I'll take you." He grabs Jimin's arm, gently leading him towards the bathroom—and rub his back along with massaging the younger tense nape as he jerks out tons of water the moment they stepped into the bathroom. When he's finished, Jimin slump against Hoseok's chest, breathing heavily as he's still shaken up from the previous bout of nausea. "Here," the older says, placing the small bottle of water on his chest, "Drink up."

Jimin scrunched his face, "I will throw it out again"

Hoseok nudges the bottle toward him, "Take a small sips, Jiminie, slowly. You're dehydrated", he coaxed quietly, rubbing the younger's shoulder. "And let's rest on the couch? Or do you want to go to your room? I will make something for you to eat. I bring medicine too"

Jimin huffs, nodding along. His brain is too fuzzy to argue or make any comment. He just know the feeling of relief that flood his body—that his ex-roommate is here. And he's not alone.

"Hyung ..", Jimin calls out as he curls on the couch, listening to the clattering of pan and plates from the kitchen. "Hm?", Hoseok hums a bit loud. "Are you okay, Jimin-ah?"

"Mhm .. hyung .. you're staying, right?"

#bts sickfic #bts emeto #tw emeto #tw vomit #sick!jimin #caretaker!hoseok

[femboyhorror]

trans dipper vent fic - preview/unfinished rough draft

this isn't really my usual sort of posting. mainly b/c it's not art it's writing. a ventfic at that. but i figured maybe some gravity falls fans might follow me and enjoy seeing this unfinished piece. written as a way to vent out some stress i've been feeling, contains some trans!dipper angst.

cw for some menstruation descriptions, cramp descriptions and some implied abuse from the twin's parents.

.｡ ☽ ⋆⍋⍋｡⍋⍋⋆ ☾ ｡.

the bus ride to the forests of oregon was just as long and boring as he remembered it to be. after hours of sitting in the same seat next to his twin he felt a strong need to move his legs and his back was hurting something fierce.

and yet as he watched the scenery in the window slowly change from long wide plains to towering pine trees a sense of comfort made itself known in the boy's heart. a sense of safety that he had sorely missed in the months that dragged by.

once his eyes caught sight of the familiar 'welcome to gravity falls' sign, he felt a smile spread across his face. one that his sister mirrored.

home. they were finally home.

as soon as the bus came to a stop the mystery twin duo practically jumped up out of their seats. ignoring the brief shouts from the bus rider about staying put until the bus was at a complete stop, the twins darted out of the vehicle to meet with the equally as excited faces of their grunkles stan and ford.

"grunke stan! grunkle ford!" the two had greeted in near unison. mabel, ever the far more energetic of the twins, didn't hesitate to jump stan in a hug.

"whoa whoa there kid, you tryin to kill your old man?" the codger had grumbled out in protest, though the way his own face breaks out into a bright smile as he wraps his arms around her show that he missed her just as much.

"welcome back, my boy." ford had cooed as he and dipper embraced in a much calmer hug. emotion swelled in dipper's heart, and he responded through a knot in his throat,

"i'm glad to be back."

'my boy' he thinks. because that's who he was. here in gravity falls, he was no longer some little girl. he was a beloved great nephew, he was a brother, he was dipper pines. the relief behind these thoughts make tears spring to his eyes, and to his relief if ford notices his emotional moment he chooses not to comment on it.

"alright, i don't know about you two but i'm just about ready to have breakfast. and i'm guessing you two dinguses hadn't eaten yet, either?" stan spoke up to which mabel chimed in,

"i mean, duh! we wanted to have a reunion breakfast!" stan let out a faux yawn.

"well, i guess i could make us all some stancakes, but i better not catch you trying to add in some weird candy dinosaur things to the batter, kid!"

~ ~ ~

breakfast between the four of them was nothing less than a lively affair. despite stan's warnings, mabel had naturally managed to turn her own pancakes into what dipper could only described as a rainbow colored death wish of syrup and sprinkles.

and despite his lack of breakfast, dipper himself could barely do more than poke around his own smaller serving of stancakes. between a dull ache in his body and remaining pain of the events from back in california made the concept of eating a wholly unappealing one.

while stan and mabel were too distracted with their own conversation to pay this any mind, dipper sees ford shoot him a brief look of concern which he quietly waves off.

once breakfast had been finished, their grunkles assured the younger twins that they had the dishes taken care of and shooed them upstairs to unpack their things.

"hey, dipper?" mabel's words break through the brief moment of silent unpacking that had taken the two in the attic, her unusually soft tone feeling like a harsh reminder of everything that had happened before their arrival back at the small oregon town. "don't you think we should tell them what ha-"

"no." he cut in harshly before quickly adding, "i just… i don't think i'm ready to relive that whole mess just yet…" he sighs and adds in, under his breath. "i just want to be able to be dipper for a while…"

"you know you'll always be dipper to all of us. stan and ford wouldn't treat you badly for being different." the words 'unlike mom and dad' hang in the air, unsaid but understood by both parties.

dipper looks down at his half unpacked suitcase, the shouts of his parents echoing in his mind as he swallowed down the knot in his throat.

"i will tell them, just…" he takes a deep breath, trying to calm his shaking voice. "…just not yet."

a part of him almost expected mabel to push him to tell them, to say that honesty is the best policy and that he would feel better once he explained everything. however, mabel simply put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

~ ~ ~

the dawn of the first official day of summer began with excrutiating pain in dipper's lower gut signaling an unwelcome crimson visitor.

several days of dull pain made the blood shed that morning not all that surprising, and yet he wants to sob as he cleans himself up in the bathroom. of course. as if his present situation hadn't made his dysphoria bad enough already, mother nature would taunt him further with her wholly unwanted and unwelcome visit.

forcing the added stress and pain to the back of his mind with everything else, he pops some pain pills and tries not to let his agony show as he slowly wanders down the stairs. immediately he's aware of the smell of smoke and he follows it to the kitchen to find the source to be a pan of half burnt eggs. stan seems to be attempting to teach mabel to cook with… mixed results. dipper simply shakes his head and takes a seat at the table where he sees his great uncle ford nursing a cup of coffee, seemingly unbothered by the duo's antics at the stove.

"good morning, my boy." he had greeted dipper before furrowing his brow. "are you feeling alright, you look pale." he added, the boy's pain evidently not being hidden well enough.

"i'm fine, grunkle ford, just… tired is all…" he assured, even taking an apple off the table to eat despite the fact that eating was currently the last thing he wanted to do. robotically he forces himself to take a bite out of the fruit as his great uncle continues speaking.

"well, dipper, i was going to ask if you wanted to accompany me on a walk around the forest, but if you're not feeling well enough than we-"

"nononono! we can go for a walk if you want to." he quickly cut in. despite his current state making him want nothing more than to lay in bed with a good book, dipper really doesn't think he wants to spend the day alone in his room. even if the cramps kill him, he really wants to spend time with his family. ford seems surprised by his answer but quickly recovers.

"oh! alright then, we can go after breakfast if that's alright with you."

"sounds good to me, i'll go grab my shoes!"

the apple would be left forgotten on the table.

~ ~ ~

the gravity falls forest is a beauty to behold. the morning sunlight streams through the canopy of the trees above and the life of the forest around the two of them makes itself known through the chattering of the birds to the gentle trots of the deer to even the little bugs and other odd beings that live in the strange forest.

ahead of dipper, ford is happily going on about the different sorts of flora and fauna in the woods, about the new creatures that seemed to have appeared since the last summer and pointing out anything of interest to his great nephew who tries his best to listen as he trudges alone but it's difficult to focus on much of anything through the haze of pain radiating from his lower gut.

he sees ford stop in place, looking to dipper with barely hidden worry.

"dipper, are you sure you're feeling alright? you know you can tell me if you're hurt, right?" ford had asked, and between the genuine care his great uncle was showing him on top of the pain he was still in it was taking all of dipper's self control to not burst into tears right then and there. he can just barely nod in response. his great uncle doesn't seem to buy it one bit but aside from a tense sigh he doesn't push the issue and continues on their trek.

as he forces himself foward to keep up with ford, the hunger and pain seem to mix into one big blob of bad that seems to seem into dipper's very bones. he doesn't know how long he goes on for until he finds himself leaning against a tree, holding his midsection as the pain felt like knives stabbing into him mercilessly.

"dipper, enough is enough, you need to tell me what's…" his greak uncle's shout of panic trailed of and pure shame filled dipper when he realized why; trails of blood were running down his legs.

dipper, suddenly filled with pure shame, could only look away in embarrassment. inwardly he wished that a hole would open up underneath him. for the earth to swallow him whole so he wouldn't have to face ford after he saw him like this. although dipper had mostly grown out of his hero worship of his mysterious lost grunkle after weirdmageddon, ford was still someone he had a high opinion of. and now that he saw dipper like this… was he disgusted of him? ashamed? would he regret letting dipper come back to visit? the thought finally brings tears to his eyes.

before he can spiral further, however, he feels ford's hand on his shoulder.

"dipper, dipper, can you look at me? …i'm not mad, dipper, i just need to know if you're alright." he briefly looks up and through his tears he sees that ford's expression betrayed no digust or shame or even so much as frustration. his expression was simply that of a caring family member that was deeply worried about him.

"do you want to go back to the shack?" he simply asks. dipper nods, a feeling of guilt settling into his ribs at the thought that he might've ruined their outing.

"dipper, it's alright, we can go on a walk another day." ford, seemingly reading dipper's mind, gently assured him. no other words were exchanged on the way back to the shack, and it wouldn't be until the two were settled back home with dipper able to clean himself up did time come for some explaining. stan and mabel, who quickly seemed to catch onto the quiet mood around the other two, had also chose to be present for it. and despite dipper's humiliation over the whole situation, he was thankful for his twin's added presence of support as he readied himself to come out, desperately hoping for it to go better than it had the last time.

"…my name wasn't always dipper…" he starts after a moment of thought. looking up for a moment, both of his grunkles are attentive and patient, and so he summons the courage to continue. "growing up, i always felt like i wasn't supposed to be a girl. even when my parents told me that all girls feel that way. and i started to realize that maybe i wasn't a girl at all…" he remembers one sleepless night when he discovered the word that would change everything for him. 'transgender'. suddenly he wasn't some broken mess of a person, suddenly he understood himself in a way he never had before.

"when my parents send me and mabel here to gravity falls, i realized it could've been a chance for me to see how it felt to be seen as a boy for the first time. and when i started using my new name, when everyone was calling me a boy i felt so happy. i felt- i felt like i was finally who i really am for the first time in my life." the memories of the first summer in the town he would come to see as his home brought a smile to his face. and despite all the trials he'd gone through in that summer, he truly felt like he had grown into a strong and proud young man by the end of it all. "i'm sorry for not telling you all sooner." from his spot at the table, stan seemed to take this in.

"kid, i kind of figured you were trans…" dipper looked up at this, face flushed with embarrassment once again.

"you knew?!" he squeaked out and stanley put his hands up in mock surrender.

"i was there when you goobers were born, after all. when you two got off the bus that summer and you were introducing yourself as dipper i just kinda put two and two together. s'not like i've never been around trans people before, kid."

"what my brother is trying to say is that we both love and accept you no matter what." dipper feels a weight lifted off his chest at both of his grunkle's kind words.

"see, dipper, i knew our grunkles wouldn't be like mom and dad."

"mabel, what do you mean by that? did your parents not take it well?" the way the younger twin's moods fell at ford's question was an answer in of itself, and not a good one. mabel's expression changed to that of a barely restrained anger and dipper shrinks in on himself.

"i… i hadn't told them much about it before going to gravity falls. i was just trying to figure it all out then, but i guess our parents caught onto me being out during that summer. not long after we came back they had a lot of questions and kind of backed me into a corner."

#mutt's written word #rough draft #ventfic #tw menstruation #trans dipper

[empty-pizza]

thoughts on nona the ninth chapters twenty-four and twenty-five

PALAMEDES FUCKING TOOK THE BODY

HOLY SHIT

HE DID IT

HE COMPLETED THE NERD TO JOCK TRANSITION

we might be able to find gideon's body soon. can't wait to find out that none of this works as we expected.

maybe if ianthe read more novels about plucky youths with the power of logic she would have beaten palamedes in the mental battle

so pyrrha suspected nona was dying. honestly i've really enjoyed the way that nona is just, a kind of being that engages with life differently. aware of her own mortality in a way most humans aren't, yet enjoying every moment she can and always curious about the next moment.

damn we really might be about to find the body. key to a door, last thing left of wake, and possibly nona.

lol the blood wards are so weak they could only even kill one of nona's hands

hey it's her

got that potentially selfcest kiss in

kinda anticlimactic

is what i said until i finished the chapter what the FUCK gideon is here what the FUCK bingus bongus zinkus zonkus idk where this is going now, so maybe Nona really is just Harrow's mind in a weird state, or maybe she's Something Else, who fucking knows

let's read the next one

this is

gideon with more confidence than usual, i think, maybe, i dunno, it's been a while. i guess she kinda wasn't allowed to be outgoing during most of book 1 but idk. it's still a weird level of confidence for the situation. or not. idk.

so john just

brought gideon back

and this entire time she's just been hanging around as the daughter of big g

this makes me kind of mad, because i think how gideon and john would react to each other is super interesting and i wish we got a book that showed us more of that

but she goes by kiriona gaia now

and she's dead

but like, what

this isn't right

this is not right

the real gideon would care way more about finding harrow again

but what if she does, and this situation is just so fucking weird and i'm missing the contxt

what happened to her

she calls nona a fake nonagesimus

i'm gonna be honest, i like nona more than i like gideon and harrow, so if i have to say goodbye or fuck you to either of the OGs, i'm willing to if it means staying on team nona

gideon would not be this mean to someone as innocent as nona!!! don't tell nona to shut up!

what's going on in the river right now

kiriona wants to go to the ninth?

As emotionally frustrating as this is, I think this is probably the most interesting way to answer the mystery of finding Gideon again. That we find her, but she's not who we wanted her to be anymore. And the question of who Nona is can be something more complicated than just, Gideon or Harrow. A simpler reveal would honestly just feel flat.

her motivation being just to kill the boredom could make sense, but like... she just doesn't feel right. Where's the Gideon that cared?

But did she really ever care about anything that wasn't hot girls, fighting, and Harrow?

Is this how she always looked from the outside?

I don't think so (she wouldn't have been so mean to Nona) but they're questions worth asking. And I believe Nona that Kiriona is lying.

Maybe it's not a real Gideon. Or is intentionally corrupted in some way by John. Maybe this is all part of a big plan to sabotage the attempt to get into the tomb. Give them who they think they need, but she'll betray them.

hmm. can't take her blood. could just be a general defensive measure. or could be a way to force BoE to need to take the woman with them personally.

Honestly though, if we were building to a "not the real gideon" twist, if it was purely a fake, then it would actually try to hide it. I think that, like it or not, this is who John made his daughter into. Dick move ngl.

Nona had never seen anyone so sad in her whole short life. It made her nearly afraid to die.

damn

man this was some shit

#pizza reads locked tomb #tlt #the locked tomb #nona the ninth

[pickinglilahs]

My Boys Ch 6.9

AO3 link, Chapter 1 Ch 6; Ch 8; (2.2K)

Haze had just about sobbed themself out in Draco's arms when Hermione's patronus appeared. Both turned at the pale glow that appeared through the door.

The otter swam up and asked, "Draco, is Haze with you? Neither of you are here yet, and while I'd like to think the two of you are in a closet somewhere, I'm a bit worried. Send a patronus back either way." The glowing creature dissolved.

Haze leaned back to wipe their eyes and Draco pursed his lips.

Sniffling and completely ignoring the 'closet' comment, Haze looked up, silently asking for Draco to do it for them.

Draco's brow crunched helplessly, "I can't."

Haze frowned up at him, confused. After a beat, their expression softened in understanding. "I-I-I'll-I'll teach y- I'll teach you."

Draco arched a skeptical brow, shame buried beneath it. "I don't know if I can..."

Haze wiped their cheeks one last time before straightening. Their voice was a bit rough, but teaching was one of their strong suits, as were patronuses, "Of course, you can. Y-You know the theory, right?"

Draco nodded hesitantly, not at all believing Haze could actually teach him. But then, he had doubted Haze countless times and had always been surprised.

"Wonderful. The-The reason the charm is so difficult for people, I think, is-is-is-is-is because they either don't choose the right kind of memory, or-or they focus too much on the memory itself, and not the emotion. So, they don't let it fill them properly before trying to cast."

Draco nodded slowly again, trying to follow.

"Most textbooks will tell you that you need a happy memory to cast a patronus, but that isn't strictly true."

Draco frowned. "Huh?"

"Think of it this way, the patronus is an anti-dementor, yeah?" They waited for Draco to nod. "Dementors don't just take away happiness though. They take away hope, love, vitality, etcetera. And-And-And-And a patronus can be fueled by any of those emotions, they just have to be strong enough."

Draco's eyes lit with understanding. "The emotion just has to be positive."

"Exactly. The second, and arguably harder part, is letting the emotion fill you completely. Most people tell you to choose a memory because we attach emotions to them. It's easier to remember feeling something than to tell ourselves to feel it, especially in-in-in the face of danger. And it can't just fill your head or your chest. You have to feel it in your bones, head to foot. So, you have to choose something you've felt consume your whole being."

Haze closed their eyes, taking a deep breath in. As the air filled them, they imagined the electricity of Draco's touch moving to every cell in their body once more. On the exhale, they whispered the incantation.

Wand still in their pocket, the silver glow burst straight from Haze's chest to fly around the room. No longer a stag, the light settled into a phoenix and landed on the back of the chair beside them.

The bird dimmed as a sob built in Haze's throat but brightened again as Draco tightened his arms around them once more. Swallowing hard, Haze told the bird, "F-Find Hermione. We're fine, but-but-but-but I'm-I'm teaching Draco to cast a-a patronus." The bird cocked its head at them, then took off.

Draco wasn't sure what to say but felt the need to break the silence before Haze spiraled. "You didn't know it changed."

It wasn't a question, but Haze shook their head dazedly anyway. Weakly, "Haven't cast since-" Their throat closed off, unable to finish. They didn't need to, but Draco was surprised when they managed to continue. "The-The stag—m-my first- my first patronus—was my dad. He-He-He-He was a stag, a-an-an animagus. And-and-and-and-and his patronus was one too." Haze had thought they were all cried out, but another rolled down their cheek.

Draco pulled them in again and kissed their head. "It was your link to him. Made you feel like he was still a part of you."

Haze choked on a sob and nodded into his shoulder. He ran his hand through their hair.

"You wanted to be like him, to preserve his memory."

Haze nodded again. Heart simultaneously clenching and feeling lighter as Draco put words to their feelings.

"But you're not your father."

Haze pulled back suddenly to look at him, another sob wracking them as they frowned at Draco.

"You're you, Haze." Draco brought a hand up to their cheek, brushing away the tears. "Just because you're becoming yourself doesn't mean your father isn't still with you, isn't still a part of you. He always will be, whether your patronus reflects that or not."

Another sob broke loose, but, now, there was gratitude mixed with the grief. They threw their arms around Draco's neck, holding tight, trying to express everything they couldn't say.

Draco understood. He held them tight once more, kissing their head before resting his cheek on their hair, the hand from their cheek moving to tangle back in the locks.

As they sat, Draco's mind wandered to what emotion he could feel that would be strong enough.

Pain. But that wasn't positive.

Fear. Also not helpful.

Haze sniffled against him, and he wondered.

The blind rage that had filled him earlier.

The panic that had him knocking over his chair in the library to get to Haze's side.

The all-consuming need to hold Haze. To make sure no one ever hurt them again.

Draco let the feeling swell. He wasn't sure what to call it, but it was definitely strong. Focusing on the way it had blinded him earlier, how it had filled him in the library, how good it felt to be holding Haze now.

He moved the hand from Haze's hair to pull his wand from his pocket. Draco took a deep breath, just as Haze had done, letting it fill him. On the exhale, Draco said the words.

A blinding light burst from his wand, somewhere between shield and corporeal.

As suddenly as it came it vanished, the feeling leaving Draco just as swiftly. He frowned but looked to see Haze's brilliant smile turned up at him.

"I knew you could do it."

Draco's frown deepened. "But I didn't. And I couldn't hold it long at all."

Haze shook their head, exasperated. "Of course not. But do you think I did that well on my first try? That was incredible!"

Pride swelled in Draco's chest at the praise. Yet, "Why did the feeling leave so quickly? It slipped away like silk."

Haze tilted their head, considering. "Probably just need practice. It takes a lot of emotion to produce a patronus, and even more to sustain one."

Draco nodded, thinking back to the emotion, wanting to try again. Haze had other ideas. They wiped their face with their sleeve and climbed off of Draco's lap. They stepped back and held out a hand for Draco.

Draco ignored the hand and reached over to straighten their skirt, pulling it down a bit. Haze went to turn away as they felt the heat rising up their neck and cheeks, but Draco took their hand, kissing their cheek as he stood.

Haze walked off, trying to suppress the blush and dragging Draco behind them. "Come on. You need to show Hermione. She's going to be so jealous. Took her ages to get it down."

They collected their bags—which had been abandoned in the hall—and made their way to the library, hand-in-hand. Haze led Draco down the corridors and through the library, to the back table where they had taken to working on Draco's project. That had been their initial plan for the evening, but, clearly, they would have to work another time.

They found Hermione chewing on the end of a biro, obviously worried about Haze's new patronus and stressed about not knowing where the two of them had gone.

As soon as she saw them, Hermione leapt from her chair and barreled into Haze. She squeezed them tight, barely giving them time to hug her back before she was pulling away. Putting both hands on their cheeks, she took in their still-red eyes and contradicting smile.

"What happened?"

Haze's grin widened and they pulled away. Setting their stuff down and flopping into a chair, they looked to Draco. "Show her."

He balked. "N-Now? I-I don't think-"

"Show me what?" She looked between the two as she went back to her own seat.

Draco slowly came to sit as well, apprehension written in every line of his body.

Haze held a hand out for him to take as he sat, "Sit down and focus." They turned to Hermione, fingers lacing with Draco's under the table. "So, Draco got into a fight-"

"Hey!"

"-Defending me." Haze glared at Draco, obviously implying that he should be concentrating. Neither heard Hermione's gasp, she knew the terms of Draco's parole. "And I switched our wands when no one was looking. So, when I told McGonagall and Flitwick that I was the one who jinxed those idiots, 'my' wand was the one that regurgitated the spells."

"And McGonagall believed that?" Hermione was dumbfounded.

Haze snorted. "No. Course not. And the wimps on the floor said it was Draco too. But Draco cast two shield charms before any hexes, clearly showing that he didn't start the fight. And everyone agreed that he was defending me. So, she let him off with a warning."

Hermione's disbelief morphed into relief. "Wow. Lucky you showed up then."

Haze shrugged. "McGonagall's fair above all else. I'm sure she would have checked his recent spells before pursuing any action either way."

"Still, altercations of any kind are against his parole. To get off with a warning? That was all you Haze. She might be fair to everyone else, but you truly are her favorite."

Haze's grin was part sheepish, part pleased.

"So, what happened then? I waited as long as I could stand before I sent the patronus, but sorting that out couldn't have taken that long, did it?"

Haze pursed their lips, not quite sure how much they were willing to divulge. "Draco and I... talked... for a bit. I- um... I told him a-about, uh... About the-the Dursleys a-and-"

Hermione reached across the table for their hand. Letting them know she understood. Haze squeezed back, appreciatively.

"S-So-So th-then, when y-your patronus came I-I-I, uh, wasn't really..." She squeezed their hand again and they gave her a weak smile.

"And Draco couldn't send one for you, which is why it took so long for you to send one back." Haze nodded, grateful for how intuitive she always was. "And... Did you, uh... Did you know that it had...?"

Haze shook their head, throat feeling tight again, prickles building behind their eyes and down their nose. "B-But we, uh," they turned to look at Draco, who was already looking at them.

As their eyes met, Draco raised his wand and cast. The patronus still wasn't quite corporeal, but it lasted much longer than it had the last time.

Hermione gasped and Haze grinned.

After almost 15 seconds, the glow dimmed and went out. Draco frowned in frustration, but Haze squeezed his hand, beaming.

"And that's only the second time he's cast it!" Haze turned their brilliant smile on Hermione, whose shock was suddenly layered with envy.

"You're kidding."

Haze shook their head, grin turning teasing. "Careful, Mione, you've got competition."

She scoffed, trying to brush it off. "Draco has always been at the top of the grade with me. It's hardly a surprise he's done well with this; especially since he had you teaching him one-on-one."

Haze's smile turned bashful.

"Yeah, I should probably thank you for besting me all these years." Draco was looking at Hermione, a strange bitterness and... gratitude? laced through his tone. "Getting out-shown by a muggle-born in every subject made my father so proud."

Hermione paled. "Oh. I'm sor-"

Draco cut her off with a wave of his hand. Genuinely, "Really. Thank you. It may have been awful when we first started school but now... I think it made it easier to see that I would never be enough for him. Even if I had beaten you, he still would have found something."

Haze squeezed his hand and Draco squeezed back, shooting them a sad smile. He wasn’t sure what brought this sudden need to divulge about. Draco had never talked about his father—to anyone—but he felt Hermione, of all people, deserved an explanation. Needed to know how much he'd changed. Would understand. Even if he had already apologized to her at length, part of him felt he would never stop trying to make amends.

"I mean, I know that he did what he thought was best for me, but it wasn't for me. Not really. He was always more worried about the Malfoy name and making sure I wouldn't ruin our reputation."

Hermione reached a hand out to him. He took it, squeezing back gently.

"He deserves to rot in Azkaban for everything he's done. If they had given him anything less than a life sentence I-" Draco looked away, not really sure where that sentence was going.

Hermione squeezed his hand one last time before pulling back. She checked her watch and looked back to her homework. Sighing, "I think we should call it; dinner will be starting soon."

Haze and Draco nodded and waited for Hermione to gather her things. Then the trio set off down to the Great Hall.

So much change, in such short a time.

@bradley-95147-blog @shyshadows430

#drarry #harry x draco #drarry love #draco x harry #dmhp #hpdm #trans!harry potter #trans harry potter #nb!harry potter #nb harry potter

[sourapplesauces]

Bot Boy Idea 4: Vanny comes back

I'm gonna be honest, this one is my personal favorite, and I am quite surprised that it hasn't been done yet. Think of the angst potential! (this is no longer true)

Imagine it's been a few weeks since the 3 star ending and the 3 goobers are getting more acclimated to living with each other. Gregory is getting used to the fact that he has 2 adult figures that actually care about him. Vanessa’s nightmares are starting to become less severe. Freddy’s head was reattached to his body, and he now remotely controls a child-size bear doll (like a Lonely Freddy but not evil) so he can still easily be with Gregory when he isn't at the pizzaplex.

The day would start like any other: everyone wakes up, goes through their morning routines, and eats some breakfast. Gregory finishes first and gets up to go and wash off his plate in the sink. That is when it happens, Vanessa starts to feel a little off, like she is moving slower than normal. At first, she brushes it off as her still waking up. Then she hears a voice… a voice she only hears in her worst nightmares… VANNYS voice. Vanessa would then discover that she could no longer move or speak. She could only watch as she felt herself get up from her chair, and pick up a knife from off of the counter. The reason that she still has any knives at all is for Gregory to use to spread various condiments on his school sandwiches when he makes them.

Meanwhile, Gregory and Freddy are near the sink, having a conversation about Freddy's obsession with dad jokes or something (You are the Morbest superstar!) They turn around, preparing to return to Gregory's room to get ready for school, and they see Vanessa, holding a knife. Gregory would feel a sharp twinge of betrayal before looking at Vanessa's face to see that her calm green eyes, ones that had reassured him after many a nightmare, were now glowing a sickly purple. Freddy and Gregory would realize that the person in front of them was no longer Vanessa, but Vanny.

Vanny raises her arm, Gregory is looking for a way out. He is also preparing for the possibility of being killed, and he doesn't want to give Vanny the satisfaction of being scared if that happens. Through all this, Vanessa is trying desperately to retake control, all the while Vanny mocks her efforts, making sure that Vanessa won't be able to mentally look away from her worst fear, the death of her savior by her own hands. Freddy is preparing to try and jump in front of Gregory at the last second to try and cushion the blow of the knife using his plush form.

Just before Vanny is able to deliver the killing blow, she disappears. No warning at all, like a true glitch, Freddy and Gregory watch as Vanessa's eyes flicker from purple back to green, drops the knife and collapses to the floor, hugs herself and sits in complete silence for a few seconds before bursting into hysterical tears.

Nooooo....... you're gonna bring me to tears first! No offense but this has to be my least favorite so far! Im sure you can see why though ;_;

I imagine they confront that soon after though, they cant live in peace knowing that Vanny and the virus is still a threat! I wonder how Glitchtrap/Vanny (?) managed to infiltrate Vanessa's mind again though, in the 3-star ending Burntrap's body is still (slightly) intact so i imagine Glitchtrap/Vanny is just planning something- but of course he/she cannot do anything without someone's (Vanessa's) assistance. Somehow he/she managed to find a breakthrough of sorts after being kicked out from her mind? Or he/she wasn't kicked out and just dormant. Either way another interesting concept!

#fnaf #fnaf vanessa #security breach #fnaf security breach #halogenrobotics #sorry if the text is sorttaaa confusing #is vanny a seperate personality or just another label to glitchtrap?

[dazedbypark]

you're warm | kth

Pairing : Kim Taehyung × Reader

Genre : Established Relationship! au, Comfort! au, Fluff, A hint of angst

Summary : You haven't watched a movie with your boyfriend in a long time. Or maybe more accurate would be the sentence - you haven't cuddled with him in a long time.

Warnings : None, except for the fact that it's written by me.

Word Count : 1.5k (does this count as a drabble? but whatever asjkshshej)

Author's Note : This drabble is uhh...quite random, I'd say. But then again, which work of mine isn't? The idea struck me while I was attending my classes and I was like why not? After I finished writing it, I really was in a Taehyung mood🤧

Anyways, please enjoy this drabble! It will mean a lot to me if you do so. And please leave feedback if possible (doesn't matter if it's good or bad). It motivates me a lot🌻

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You peep in at Taehyung's room through the half-open door.

There is no sunlight in there. The weather is cloudy today. Yet, he has somehow managed to keep the room warm. On walls painted white and brown, hang vintage paintings high and proud. The room is messy as always, Taehyung never bothering to clean it. Clothes are piled high on a chair, just a centimetre away from making a mess on the floor. The bed is still not cleared; blankets and pillows scattered on it.

He is sitting in his chair, squinting at the screen of the desktop through his glasses. His elbow rests on the table, his fingers grazing his soft lips and the tip of his nose. His brows are furrowed in concentration, giving him that intimidating look only he possesses (and it's scary, mind you).

You slowly push the the door, making space for you to squeeze into the room, silently praying that the door doesn't squeak. And it doesn't, luckily. You raise your head to look at him once again. He's still busy, head buried deep into his work.

You quietly tip-toe towards the back of his chair. And then, suppressing a laugh, you block his view by covering his eyes with your hands. You feel his eyelashes flutter under your touch and him jump in his chair, before he relaxes completely.

"Wh---Y/n, you gave me the fright of my life," he says, his deep voice filling in your ears.

You step away from Taehyung and turn to lean on the wall, facing him. He, too, tears his gaze away from the screen and directs it towards you.

"I intended that." You poke your tongue out at him.

He only laughs at that, the sound of it music to your ears. You have always loved his laugh; the sound of it, the way his face brightens up with a glow whenever he does so. Your heart melts, not for the first time since you first heard it.

"So, what are you here for?" he questions, raising his eyebrows at you. Does he know you love how his brows raise? He definitely knows. You roll your eyes at him.

"Does your girlfriend need a reason everytime she visits you?" you reply, crossing your hands on your chest.

"She usually doesn't visit without any reason, stating it right away when she enters, never wasting a moment. And when she does enter my house without saying a word, all she needs is cuddles. There always is a reason," he answers.

"She---" you try to come up with a clever and witty response, but fail to do so.

He smiles at you then, resting his chin on his hands and tilting his head. "As I said, my girlfriend never visits me without any reason."

You only puff your cheeks at that, annoyed because you can't find even a decent defence for yourself. He's good at this kind of stuff, for some reason.

"Let's just end that conversation right there. I'll just answer your question." You hesitate for a moment before continuing, "I want to watch a movie, alright? I just realized we haven't done so in a long time. And we'll watch romance, of course."

"Okay then, Y/n. Let me just finish writing this e-mail first," he says, motioning towards his desktop.

"What do I do till then?"

"Do whatever you want. Not like I have chained you up, honey." He turns his face away from you, shielding it from your view.

You only throw a dirty look at the back of his head and proceed to walk towards his balcony situated beyond the wide and tall windows of his room. Pushing the curtains aside and sliding the windows, you walk into it.

You love your balcony, you really do. But his holds a view undeniably better (maybe because it's his balcony). He sure does have good luck.

The city isn't as buzzing with crowds at this hour of the day. It's relatively calmer, making noise with only the silence for people to hear.

The cold, humid wind blows in, grazing your skin. It calms you down. You feel all your clenched muscles relax, giving in to the simple comfort of the wind blowing. You close your eyes and lean on the railings, placing both your hands on it.

In reality, you care nothing about the movie. It just hasn't been that great a day. Not bad, but it hasn't been the best one either. And your thoughts that constantly trailed towards negativity didn't help much either. Tired of them, you had found yourself walking aimlessly within the city, just simply looking at all that it held in it; at the buildings and the trees, at the changing seasons, at the sky and at the people. Feeling yourself unwind a little after that, you unsurprisingly found out that your feet had led you to the complex Taehyung lived in. You had smiled a little then.

Suddenly, you feel two arms wrap around your waist and a body slowly pressing against your back.

You only sigh, smiling. A warm feeling swirls in your chest. It is love and so much more that you feel for him. You spin around in his hands, turning to face him.

You find him smiling at you, eyes searching yours.

"You really love my balcony, now, don't you?" He tightens his grip on you a little.

"And so what? What if I do?" You cock your eyebrows at him, swiping your tongue against the inside of your cheek.

He pulls you close, and your face finds itself pressed into his chest. Your cheeks flame a little, but it feels nice. Comforting. Like home. You feel warm inside out whenever he holds you like this.

You breathe him in. Even his smell is so warm.

"Your breath is making me ticklish, Y/n. Don't do that," he laughs, and you feel his chest vibrating with laughter against your face.

"I..." you trail off, not knowing what to say. You only press your face into his chest further and wrap your arms around his back, holding him close.

"You're really in a cuddly mood today, huh? What about the movie?" he asks, and you hear the smile in his voice as he does so. He must be looking at you with those eyes. Eyes that your friend had once claimed that he only has reserved for his loved ones. As much as you want to look at his eyes and him, you don't want to distance yourself from him even a bit. Why in the world couldn't you do both of them together?

"I still want to. Just give me a second, please." And he does.

You try to savour his warmth, his body so close to yours, his hands on your back, his comforting presence. You don't know how much time you hold on to him like that. He doesn't move either.

When you finally look up, you find him looking at you with eyes so fond, that you immediately melt under his gaze.

"Shall we go now, Tae?"

"Okay. Let's go, Y/n." His eyes flit all over your face before he finally lets go of you, and you miss the contact quite quickly.

As you walk, his hand finds yours and his fingers intertwine with yours absent-mindedly. You smile quietly at the gesture.

As soon as you reach his living room, you curl up on the couch with the blankets and the pillows you brought on your way here.

Taehyung proceeds to turn on the television and scrolls through the seemingly endless collection of movies.

"Which one this time?" he asks, turning to look at you, only to find that you are already curled up on his couch. You really are in a cuddly mood today. He smiles, knowing that you are going to sleep halfway through the movie. He isn't complaining, though.

"Any movie is fine," you mumble in reply to his question, your voice a little muffled due to the layer of blankets you have wrapped yourself in.

He only shakes his head at you, smiling, and continues his search. At last, he decides on one and then walks towards your form on the couch.

After contemplating for a moment, he sits on the opposite end of the couch, as far away from you as possible.

Realising this, you scoot over to his side of the couch. He smiles like an idiot. You hardly seem to care about his win at this point. You curl into him, putting your arms around him and resting your head against his chest, his heart beating steadily under you. He too, secures his arms around your body, holding you close to him and rests his chin on your head. You smile at that.

_

"You're warm," you're mumbling, half-asleep, when barely 10 mins of the movie have been completed.

Your words warm him up as well.

_

To his surprise, it doesn't even take half of the movie for you to fall asleep. You must have really been tired today, he thinks as you snore lightly in your peaceful slumber.

He kisses your forehead and holds you tighter.

He loves you, he realizes not for the first time.

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all rights reserved ©dazedbypark | copying, translating and/or redistributing the work is strictly not allowed.

#taehyung scenarios #taehyung fic #taehyung × reader #taehyung #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts × reader #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts drabble #taehyung drabble #taehyung imagine #taehyung fluff #bts v x reader #bts v #comfort au #established relationship #bts fluff #taehyung writing #bts writing #bts #taehyung fanfic

[astromaki]

part 3 of second choice ; ceo!shoto todoroki x gn!reader (x ceo!katsuki bakugo) (1617 words)

part 1. part 2. (previous) part 4.

tw ; angst, arranged marriage, toxic relationship, degradation, divorce, mention of alcohol, bad language, slightly suggestive ?

EXTRA INFOS ;; all the characters are aged up obviously (they are 30 here), the point of view of this third part is from shoto todoroki !

confrontation. [7 : 16 pm]

a week has passed since he came home that night drunk. that he had begged momo to stay with him. that he had accidentally seen those divorce papers crumpled by your hands.

momo had seen them too that night, and yet she and shoto had not commented on them. good, he wasn't in the mood anyway.

it had become almost official, even the media had it on their front pages. "one of japan's richest couples on the verge of divorce?", "billionaire todoroki single again?" "y/n, will the heir.ess of their father's company return to being a lawyer?"

he would have liked to say that he cared what you thought about it. if you cried, screamed, were you hurt ? but that would be lying, you were the least of his worries.

and then, wasn't it what he wanted from the beginning ?

that you would end up hating him so much that you would leave him. that he could finally be free of the weight that you represented every day.

and yet his signature was still missing.

"you can't even love your partner properly, and now i hear through the media that a divorce is on the way ? you're pathetic son. i knew i should have married them to touya. " enji's heart-attack voice echoed terribly through the phone, which made shoto sigh. he was even pretty sure he could hear it from across town.

"calm down." shoto said in an annoyed tone. "your marriage isn't a success either, so keep your remarks to yourself. bye. "

"you idiot, don't you dare hanging up on me. i don't care if you can't satisfy your s/o, i don't care if they feel bad about this arranged marriage either. but y/n y/l/n comes from a very famous lawyer's family, so get a divorce and the amount of money you have to give will be huge. "

"i manage them, it will not be a problem. i have to go now. "

the young man finally returned to your room, looking exhausted, his tie loosened and ready to down a few glasses of whiskey.

however, he was surprised to see you. dressed in a beautiful versace dress/suit, you were glowing. well no, he meant that you looked... good.

though, it was the first time he took the time to look at you. to admire you.

the young man finally met your indifferent gaze through the mirror you were standing in front of. that gaze that was so joyful and sparkling at the beginning of your marriage, full of hope to transform this purely financial union into a love marriage.

but that look, devoid of emotion, almost made shoto, Japan's most ambitious ceo, doubt himself. almost.

"i'm surprised you're still using my card to splurge. how much is this one? $1000 ? $2000 ?"

he was tired, exhausted. nut the truth is he was in the mood to be a pain in the ass tonight.

"$ 8,330. plus the $800 pair. " you replied coldly.

your answer was like a slap in the face to your husband. not because of the price, he didn't give a fuck about this.

but this tone right there. it wasn't like you. you were normally so gentle, patient even with the worst of the crap he put you through. that naive kindness that made him want to vomit was completely gone. he didn't expect such a turn of events.

"so you decide to divorce me, but first you want to empty my bank account? you're exactly as I imagined." his look that used to reflect nothing but fatigue was now full of contempt for you.

you finally faced him. shit, he couldn't help but find you beautiful.

"here todoroki, let's talk about the divorce. " you began, quietly walking over to the cabinet and pulling out a stack of documents. "i've signed it, sign it, and i'll take it to my lawyers first thing in the morning.

he snatched them out of your hand and threw them across the room. you didn't even flinch, you even held his gaze. poker face.

a loud silence fell between you. a long silence, uncomfortable and comfortable at the same time. heavy and light. sensible and meaningless.

"what's all this about ? who put you up to this ?"

a wry laugh escaped your lips. your new behavior puzzled shoto. he loved and hated what he had in front of him. a challenge.

"you think i need someone to make me realize that i deserve better than an asshole like you ? fuck, let me laugh. "

your hand went to retrieve a piece of paper from your purse. and it was slammed hard against his chest. bakugou’s business card.

he found your face inches from his, your warm breath gently caressing his cheeks. a scent of whiskey filled his nostrils. you were not sober.

"how many drinks are you on? " he asked quietly.

"so now do you care if i downed a whole bottle or not ? oh please shut up. because now that you mention it, your friend bakugou katsuki may have hired me. to be his company's business lawyer. isn't that funny? "

you turned your back on him, unaware of the state you'd put him in. but damn, it was like he'd just been slapped in the face. nausea took over his whole body, his legs became heavy and weak in few seconds only. and he knew damn well it wasn't fatigue.

so you were leaving him, but on top of that you were going to work for his number one competitor ?

he didn't know what hurt more, the knowledge that bakugo had won one of the most competent lawyers in the field or that you were leaving him for him ? was he jealous ? surely not, it was another feeling that repulsed him. he didn't even know.

"have you lost your tongue todoroki ?"

todoroki ? since when did you call him by his last name ? where are the darlings or my heart that used to annoy him so much ?

you finish getting ready, now wearing your long jacket. he had lost his tongue indeed, he didn't know what to say to you. what to do.

y/n y/l/n, you had succeeded in putting your husband to the wall.

but it was only for a moment. he quickly, too quickly, pulled himself together. his usual irritated expression returned.

"you don't see that he's using you to get ahead of me ? i thought you were smarter than that. "

he took a step forward, slowly but surely. like a predator approaching its prey.

"he doesn't care about you. just like no one has ever cared about you, not me, not him and not your bourgeois family. that's why they put you in a loveless marriage so easily. "

a mirthless laugh escaped from his lips.

"y/n, this bastard doesn't give a damn about you. "

you tried to move towards him, ready to slap him, but the alcohol made you capsize and stumble on your carpet. he arrived just in time to support you with his muscular arms. an annoyed sigh resounded in the large room when your sob reached his ears.

nevertheless, a petty smile stretched his lips. there you were again, the fragile and unassertive y/n finally in his arms.

that bakugo had managed to turn your brain inside out. yet shoto knew you better than anyone else. he knew you. better than you knew yourself. you were that puzzle he had managed to decipher long ago.

"that's not true. kacchan wouldn't do that...", you whisper.

"you know i'm right, sweetheart. you know i'm the only one who's honest with you. my love for you is all you need. "

his muscular hand gradually, peacefully, came to caress your back to take off the buttons of your dress. his lips came to meet yours, to draw you into a long, languid, unsentimental kiss. your lips asked for more, your whole soul asked for more of shoto. more of this man for whom your heart never stopped beating. even if his was vibrating for another woman.

you wanted to feel his lips making love to you sensually, sincerely.

you just wanted him to love you for one night. one fucking night.

shoto was ecstatic. he could already see himself opening a bottle of champagne with his father, to celebrate the divorce that would never happen. tonight, shoto had brought out his best acting skills. millions were at stake. he had brought out his best kiss. he had never touched you like that. so gently, so carefully.

he had never called you by any affectionate nickname.

he has done too much to keep you around.

and you were drunk, not stupid.

you finally stood up, moving away from him, reluctantly. nothing he said was true. from his love for you, to his accusations against katsuki.

awkwardly, you put your dress/suit back on properly.

"i have a meeting with my future employer mr. bakugou tonight. i'll be late. don't wait for me, i'll sleep at the hotel tonight, with your card. "

a red color came to his cheeks. anger ? sadness ? jealousy ?

he had never seen you so determined, so proud. and that attracted him. he was going to lose millions, no matter what. but it was you who was going to escape him. for that bastard bakugou katsuki.

the nice little y/n was no longer shoto todoroki's.

AHHH omg sorry sorry i told you i can't do a fluffy end!! >< (comments and reblogs are appreciated <3)

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