#work has been my safe space the past two weeks and I appreciate it so much

[blossomwritesthings]

𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭

pairing: minho x curvyfem!reader (afab)

genre: idol!minho. curvy!reader. hurt/comfort. angst. slight fluff. smut - MDNI, 18+ ONLY. reader pov. established relationship.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. mild thematic elements. this shit's got some angst in it. reader had an abusive and fat-ph0bic ex in the past, and has trauma from that. reader is self conscious about their legs/weight. smut warnings below cut!!

word count: 5.0k

summary: you had thought that your scars from the past were healed, but evidently, your ex from college was still clouding your mind. thankfully, your boyfriend minho is right there to help you heal from the heartbreak.

18+ warnings: unprotected sex (stay safe out there, guys!). minho has a thing for reader in skirts/her thick thighs. fingering. minho eats reader out. DIRTY talk. dom!minho. sub!reader. making out. manhandling. praise kink. nipple/breast play. face riding. slight sub-space. excessive hair pulling. breeding kink is alluded to. pet names (babydoll, babygirl, kitten, etc.). degradation kink (minho calls reader a whore/slut). daddy kink. slighttt dollificaition/corruption kink. multiple orgasms.

a/n: started writing this last week after some of my good stay writing friends sortaa gave me the prompt to do a minho x thick reader. I originally planned for this to be just a short drabble but... here we are lmao. 💀 also, I am a thick girl myself, so I really appreciate writing/reading inserts where I can relate to y/n. anyways, enjoy you guys!! 😖

🤎 - ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ other cool stuff ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋread my rules & guidelines here! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗��ˋcheck out my skz masterlist! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋmy wip list! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ skz fic recs [sfw ver]! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋskz fic recs [nsfw ver]! :: 18+, MDNI! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋback to navigation! ࿐ྂ

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). © ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

  The moment Minho opened the door to the studio, and saw you standing there, he completely froze up. And the look on his face, of utter surprise, left you shifting on either of your feet in sudden anxiety. 

 You knew you shouldn’t have come to the company to surprise him during his work day, especially since he and the boys were so busy preparing for their next comeback. 

 And you knew that you shouldn’t have rolled up to the recording studio dressed as you were, in the new outfit that you had bought at the mall the week before. Originally, you had wanted to wear it the next time the two of you went out on a date night together, but with his rapidly growing schedule of duties, you decided that you wouldn’t get such an opportunity for a while. 

 The outfit wasn’t all that scandalous… 

 Sure, the white, lacy tank top was pretty skintight and showed quite a bit of your cleavage, and the pink skirt that was embellished with white satin bows on the sides was quite short. 

 Okay, scratch that, the flowy, baby-pink pleated skirt was really fucking short. 

 Like, borderline porn-star level short. 

 The hemline was cropped so much that it barely covered your ass. 

 But that’s why you wore the long, white lace stockings. To hide some of the expanse of skin that you were exposing. 

 You had never been particularly fond of your legs. Being a curvy girl and all, they had always been rather… chubby for your liking. Sure, your tits were nice and big. But having thick thighs? That would be a hard hell no in your book. 

 Even still, your boyfriend sure did like your legs. He talked about his fondness for them all the time, and showed his love for them in all different ways; whether it was by always seeming to have a hand on your legs, massaging your thighs when you couldn’t fall asleep at night, or giving them lots of sweet kisses while he fucked you deep into the mattress late in the twilight hours of daybreak.

 So that’s why you decided to buy the outfit, to please him. Because even if you didn’t like your legs, you wanted to make Minho happy. And if that meant dressing up like a cute little doll - albeit leather slutty - then you were okay with that.

 There he stood, mouth completely agape, as his eyes roved down the length of you. Going all the way to your cute little white platform heels before shooting back up to your exposed chest. You could see the tips of his ears start to turn red from the sight of you all dressed up for what appeared to be him.

 “Hi, baby.” You mumbled, fingers fiddling with the frilly fabric of your skirt. Your gaze shot down to the floor in embarrassment, as you practically felt his eyes burn two holes into the fabric that barely covered your legs. 

 “Uhm- hi… kitten,” he finally managed to pull himself together, leaning against the doorframe. You caught glimpses of the room behind him. It was bustling with staff and some of his members, as everyone was busy preparing the tracks for their new album. “What are you… doing here so late at night?” 

 Your focus landed on his hand, which was gripping the side of the door. Veins popping from exertion, he was doing his best to hold himself together at that moment. Then you noticed how he tilted to the side a bit, seemingly hiding the sight of you from the rest of everyone who was just behind him in the studio. 

 Shrugging, you offered him a tiny, soft smile. “I don’t know… Just wanted to surprise you, that’s all.” You began, a frown already overtaking your face as the realization dawned on you that you might be a bother to him while he was working. “Sorry, did I come at a bad time? I can-”

 “No- no.” He suddenly blurted out in a frantic voice. Throat bobbing up and down as you watched him physically fight the urge to not lunge right at you. “You’re never a nuisance, baby…” Then he was moving, stepping forward only slightly and reaching out to tuck a few strands of loose hair behind your ear. The feeling of his long digits brushing across your cheek sent shivers down your spine. “It’s just that, I’m super fucking busy right now, and I’d hate for you to sit around here without getting the… proper attention that you deserve.” 

 The 'attention' that he was talking about was not the innocent one. You could tell by the way his eyes sparkled under the faint lights of the studio - brewing with so many tamped wants and desires. You could tell from his jaw, that ticked painfully tight at the mention of you sticking around in such an outfit, for everyone to see. 

 Just then you hauled out the carton of coffees that you had been hiding behind your back, presenting them to your boyfriend with a wide grin plastered on your face. “It’s okay, I understand… I thought you guys could use these while you work. It’ll help bring your spirits up.” Minho stared down at the coffees you had ordered from a nearby coffee shop. 

 For a moment, he just froze there, looking at the Americanos. Then, he was gently taking them from your hands with soft eyes that never failed to make your heart melt. “Thanks, dollface… I’ll be sure to hand these out to the guys.” 

 “Well, I should let you get back to work, I know you have a long night ahead of you…” You started, leaning into him and pressing a chaste kiss against his cheek. “I’m gonna hang out at that cafe just down the road for a little bit, then I’ll head home.” 

 As you began to tug away from him, Minho’s free hand shot out and clutched at your hip. Fingers digging into the skin there desperately, he pressed you close to his form. “Please- don’t go to that cafe tonight.” 

 Staring up at him, you rose an eyebrow in question. “Why not?” You asked, noticing the way his eyes widened a little bit in desperation. His lips pressed together in a firm line, cheeks blooming with a slight flush as he gaped down at you. 

 “I- it’s… it’s too late- not safe for you to stay out alone,” he gave your lips a soft kiss before he was tearing away from you again. You could see the furrow in his brows, and how hard he was fighting himself to have control over all of the urges that coursed through his mind just then. “Don’t want anything to happen to you. So go home and wait for me… I shouldn’t be too long at the studio tonight.” 

 You nodded gradually, flashing him an easy smile. “Okay, if you say so… just don’t work too late, okay?” You reached up, carding a few fingers through his shock of crimson-red hair. “I need you to come home with enough energy tonight.” 

 At that, he smirked wickedly, licking his lips with that perfect, pink tongue of his. “And why’s that, princess?” 

 “I think you know why…” 

 Before he could do - or say - anything else, you were dragging away from him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. 

 “I’ll see you later then?” Just then you purposefully dropped your keys on the floor. And as you bent down to retrieve them, you made sure your ass was in clear view of Minho. You rose, flashing him the matching white lacy panties that you had on peeking out just from underneath your skirt. “Bye, baby… love you.” You said as you turned around and offered him another tiny smile. 

 The look of utter desire he had on his face at that moment was unmatched by any other expression he had ever had in the past. His eyes widened for what felt the millionth time that night, but you didn’t let him say anything else, as you were already sauntering away, swinging your hips from side to side alluringly. 

 The night seemed to drag on painfully as you waited at home in your shared apartment for Minho to finish work. And when the sound of his keys at the front door finally rang out throughout the place, you were up in an instant, already in the entryway as he filed through the threshold of your apartment. You had taken off your white stockings soon after arriving home, hating the way the itchiness of the fabric irritated your skin.

 “Welcome home, baby.” You said, giving him a soft smile as he bent down and slipped off his shoes. 

 He stared up at you, gaze turning immediately dark as he once again took in your attire for the night. The shirt had rumpled since you had last seen him at the studio, and the skirt had risen a little bit more up your legs from your lounging on the living room couch. This resulted in you flashing him your white panties.

 You didn’t have any time to think or breathe or even speak, as within the next beat, Minho’s hands were wrapped around your waist, pushing you until your back hit the nearest wall. 

 His face neared your exposed neck, as his lips suckled on your jaw sweetly, teeth biting into your skin hungrily. When he drew back to take a shuttering breath, his mouth was already a little puffy from the violet bruises that he had given you in just the past few seconds. 

 “Fuck- I didn’t know how long I was gonna last at the studio tonight,” he murmured, dipping into you again and running his hot tongue over the length of your clavicle. “Every time I tried to focus on work, I’d lose myself in the thought of you - of you in this slutty little skirt. And fuck- I also came right there in front of everyone as I kept remembering how hot you looked like this.” 

 Minho’s hands were leaving your hips as he spoke the words in a low voice, fingers already finding their way under your skirt. Trailing up, up, up, he finally stopped when his palms came in contact with your asscheeks. 

 “I picked out the outfit just for you… saw it at the mall the other week, and I knew you had to see me in it,” You said, voice cutting off slightly as his nails dug into the flesh of your ass rather harshly. “Thought I’d surprise you at work after the long, hard week that you’ve had.”

 Minho kneaded either of your asscheeks, mouth hovering over yours as he stared down at you with lust taking over his eyes. You moaned into him at the feeling of him working you up so well- getting you so flustered without even doing that much, to begin with. 

 “You gonna be a good girl for me tonight, princess?” He purred seductively, tongue poking out between his two stunning red lips and tracing the line of yours. “Gonna let me fuck you in this pretty little skirt?” He swallowed down the strangled moans that threatened to leak out of you just then. “Gonna let me ruin it for you?” He suckled on your mouth, tongue pressing past your teeth and tasting you irrevocably. “Gonna let me have my way with you tonight, hmm?” 

 You were already a shaking mess beneath him, limbs going all melty and jello-like as he held you in his grasp. So close, yet not nearly close enough. “Y-Yeah, I’ll be your good girl… I wore this to please you, baby. I know how much you like these kinds of- outfits on me.” 

 Then without another word, Minho was moving. Hoisting you up into his arms and walking you across the apartment’s slick wooden floors. In no time at all, he was gently setting you down on the bed, as he took a seat just beside you. 

 “Come here and sit on daddy’s face, kitten.” 

 His command came out all gravelly and stern. He stared at you with beseeching eyes, cocking his head to the side as he watched your face transform. From one that was full of sensual mirth to downright horror. 

 “W-What?” You found yourself stammering out, a flush already creeping up your neck and pooling in your ears and cheeks. 

 Minho shrugged nonchalantly. Like him asking you to practically suffocate him with your thick thighs wasn’t that big of a deal. “You heard me, babydoll- want you to ride my face.” 

 You felt yourself dissolving onto the bed in embarrassment, the fears from years past already starting to creep into the corners of your mind. You thought you had gotten rid of them long ago, but as it turns out, the words your abusive ex had once told you continued to resonate in the back of your psyche for years afterward. 

 “I… I can’t, Min.” You said, shoulders slumping in defeat. The tears began to cloud at the rims of your eyes, as you started to recall all of the horrible things that your college ex had told you. About how you had ‘almost suffocated him’ with your heavy-set body the one time you tried to ride his face. He had constantly shamed you about your curvy physique. And even still, years later, the terrible things he’d tell you during and after sex continued to vibrate low in your soul. 

 There was a deafening silence that came over the entire room, and you saw the way Minho’s face dawned with recognition as he tried to fit the puzzle pieces together. You had told him about your ex before but had never gone too much into the specifics of everything. Especially when it came to sex. No, that shit was too embarrassing to ever bring to light again. 

 “Why… not?” He asked, tone quiet and wavering as he watched you crumble under the pain of remembrance. In the next breath, he was next to you, clasping your hands in his and trying to shake you out of your dazed stupor. “Baby- baby, listen to me. I’d never force you to do anything,” he began, raising your hands to his mouth and pressing kiss after soft kiss to your knuckles. “If you don’t wanna do something, that’s okay, darling. Just please, don’t cry, yeah?” 

 “But I want to do it!” You cried out, the tears blurring your vision and painting him out to be a red-haired splotch in the forefront of your mind. “It’s just- every time I think about it, I get so paralyzed with fear and I… then I suddenly can’t do it.” 

 Minho leaned into you, pushing a few gentle kisses to your lips. “It’s alright, kitten. There’s no rush for anything. You can take as long as you need.” 

 “I want to make you happy, Min.” You wailed, burying your face in the crook of his neck. One of his hands wrapped around your waist, holding you close to him as your shoulders shook with your sobs. 

 “I know baby, I know… but I’m not happy if you’re not happy.” 

 For a few minutes, you were completely silent. Letting the tears and emotions flow out of you like water. And your boyfriend Minho held you the entire time, offering up words of praise and love as his fingers gently stroked through your hair. 

 “It was… my ex, from college,” you finally found the courage to admit after a long bout of silence. Immediately upon mentioning him, Minho’s hand stopped moving in your hair. You felt him go completely still, as he waited for you to finish. “He… he was a real ass and- and he said some horrible things about my weight sometimes.” 

 “What’d he say, baby?” Minho asked, voice sounding strained as he did his best to hold back his anger for you. At your silence, he continued to rake his hands through your hair. “It’s okay, love- you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. All in your own time, yeah?” 

 You took in a deep breath, gulping in air as the memories from years past began to overtake you once again. “He said things like… I’d kill him if I sat on his face. Stuff like that,” you began, the shaking in your limbs beginning to come to a stop as you recalled everything. “And I guess… after a while, I just became so afraid that I never wanted to do something like that ever again.” 

 Minho pulled away from you then, grabbing ahold of either of your shoulders and squeezing there so that you stared up at him through your misty vision. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that, baby- I can’t imagine how hard it was for you,” his thumbs gently danced underneath your eyes, wiping away your excess tears. “But I want you to know that I’d never tell you such things - I love you just the way you are, no matter what you look like, I’ll always love and adore you. 

 You nodded slowly, giving him a soft, genuine smile. The first one of the night. “Y-Yeah babe… I know you’d never do such a horrific thing. But like, I just wish I could get over that shit, ya know? Move on from it and all.” 

 “Well… what if I could help you overcome it?” 

 Staring up at him with wide eyes, you bit down hard on your bottom lip in thought, “H-How would you be able to do such a thing?” Your fingers began to fiddle with the short hemline of your skirt. The white satin bows at your sides brushed against your nails, the soft material soothing your racing heart somewhat. “I don’t know if-”

 “You trust me, yeah?” Minho started then, cutting off your nonsensical ramblings that were charged with nervousness. At your nod, he was brushing some of your hair out of your face, offering you a grin that gradually tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Then let me take care of you… let me make it all better, hmm?”

 You gulped over the lump that was forming in your throat. Already, you could feel the wetness surge again between your legs, and you squirmed in his hold. One of your boyfriend’s hands tore away from your waist, traveling up the back of your calf and landing on your exposed knee. 

 He pressed into you, his muscular chest rising and falling against your bosom which was barely covered by your tiny shirt. “Can I take off your panties, darling?” He purred soothingly against the shell of your ear, the sound of his deep, gravelly voice shooting a bout of shivers down the length of your spine. “Can you let me make you feel good tonight, kitten?” 

 “Y-Yes,” you found yourself mumbling quietly, nodding frantically as you felt your heart pound against your ribcage. “P-Please… help me forget about it all, daddy.” 

 Minho peered down at you, a sardonic kind of smirk blooming across his mouth, “That’s my good girl,” his hand moved away from your knee then, traveling up, up, up, and stopping at your inner thigh. “So pliant- such a good listener too,” he continued to praise you, fingers skating over your clothed core as he made his way towards your panties. “Makes me wanna give you everything you ever wanted, hmm…” His fingers danced along the edge of your panties waistband before he was languidly dragging them down your legs, and finally throwing them off to the side. 

 “P-Please, daddy,” you whimpered up at him, the tears brimming in your eyes again, but for entirely different reasons. You were sitting perched in his lap atop your shared bed, giving him a pleading stare and asking - begging - for him to do more, just with your whines alone. “Can you give it to me? Please, I’ve been so good…” 

 “Hmm…” He mused out loud, tapping a lone finger against his chin in thought. You felt his hand come between your legs again, cupping your warmth there. “I don’t know- do you think a good girl shows up to her boyfriend’s workplace dressed like a shameless whore?” His fingers traced around the edges of you, toying with your pussy lips and making you lose your fucking mind from the teasing of it all. 

 You cried out in agonizing bliss, moving against him just a little bit so that there was some friction between your legs. “I-I wanted to please you, daddy… everything was for you.”

 Minho flashed you a slight, playful frown, the light in his eyes burning with desire and fiery passion. “And look at you now… all hot and worked up and soaking wet, but with no respite in sight.” He cooed in that baby voice that he always used on you whenever he was feeling especially commanding in bed. “But you want daddy to play with your pussy- want me to fuck you wide open with my cock, even after everything you’ve done tonight…” He smirked down at you imploringly, like he seriously couldn’t believe you had dared to visit him at the company dressed up as you were. “You’re definitely a big dreamer, I’ll give you that.” 

 Before you could say anything else, Minho was laying back down on the mattress again, propping his head atop a downy pillow. You gaped at him, squirming in your spot beside him as you felt your arousal drip down your legs.

 Minho rose an eyebrow your way then, “Well, what are you waiting for?” He motioned with his head for your to draw closer to him, and you slowly began to make your way to his side. “If you’re good- you might just get daddy’s cock tonight… so don’t act up like a brat, yeah?” 

 The blood rushed through your veins wildly then, as you shifted on the bed and threw a leg around him. Carefully, you positioned yourself over his face. It was quite a rare sight- to have Minho be underneath you, flashing you that wicked smirk and studying you with those lust-filled eyes. 

 “Do whatever you have to do to make yourself feel good, babydoll,” he coached in that whispery voice of his. The one he always used on you whenever he was trying to soothe you through your fifth orgasm of the night. “And if I die from suffocation of your pussy, I’d die a happy fucking man.” 

 His words set you into action and cast a light film of red fiery passion over your mind. In no time at all you were lowering yourself down on his face. 

 The moment you made contact, you were already a moaning mess. With his sharp nose pressing up into your clit, and his lips offering your cunt sweet kisses, your eyes immediately rolled into the back of your head. It felt so fucking good - everything felt so much better than you had imagined. 

 As his tongue dipped into you, lapping at your taste, you frantically ripped off your shirt, stripping yourself of your white lace bralette. At this, Minho stopped for a breath, his eyes hooded and swimming with shadows. 

 “See? You’d never kill me with just your thighs alone,” he mused, his voice rumbling against your cunt and making you yelp out in oversensitivity. One of his hands fell away from your hips, rising up to cup one of your breasts. “More like, you’d kill me with these beautiful fucking tits.” 

 With one hand, you were holding onto his head, threading fingers through his crimson locks as he got back to work between your legs. Meanwhile, your other palm was busy pressing against his, guiding his fingers as they traced across your chest, pinching and toying with your swollen peak there. 

 You ground against his face the whole time, head thrown back in pure bliss as the vilest of sounds fled from your mouth. With his nose buried against your throbbing clit, and his tongue thrusting into you with every other breath, you were quickly approaching your release. 

 “Fuck- you taste so fucking amazing, wish I could eat you every single day.” He mumbled against you. His lips sucked on you like you were the best lollipop he had ever had, the lewd sounds he was making casting across the entire dimly lit bedroom in sensuality. 

 “I-I’m gonna come-” You cried out desperately, chasing your high as you rode his face at a frantic pace. At your confession, Minho’s nails dug into the skin at your hips, fingers relentlessly toying with your breast as he delved with a renewed kind of vigor into your essence. 

 Your orgasm came over you in a blinding flash of whiteness, casting galaxies across your vision as Minho helped you ride out the wave of release. Your entire body melted against him, and just as you were slipping into the headiness of blissful weightlessness, your boyfriend was moving from underneath you. 

 Grabbing onto your hips, he was flipping your positions. And in the next breath, he was towering over you, leaning in and threading a few fingers into your hair. He pulled at the roots there, making you whine out in slight pain. The harshness forced your eyes open, and your gazes locked.

 “Now… I’m gonna fuck you so good, you’ll completely forget about that asshole from your college days,” he growled, his anger about your past abusive ex unbidden. It shined through in the way a dark look cast over his entire face. His lips attached to yours, as he sucked the breath right out of your lungs. 

 “D-Daddy… please, need your dick so fucking much,” you clawed out to him in your blurry vision, still cresting over your previous orgasm. Your hands wound behind his neck, holding his face close to yours as your kiss turned frantic - tongue against tongue, teeth clashing together. You tasted yourself on him, and the dirtiness of it all only made the pool of energy in your core grow deeper. 

 Minho yanked away from your lips, a string of saliva stretching taught between the two of you. With his strong, big hands, he grabbed ahold of either of your legs and pushed them apart. “Open wide for me, kitten… wanna see your tight little pussy as I stretch you open with my cock.” 

 You moaned wildly at his words, watching with shallow breath as he rid himself of his baggy sweatpants and black briefs. When he neared you on the bed again, you felt your heartbeat thump inside your ear. 

 “N-No condom?” You asked, voice coming out raspy from all of the cries and moans that you had been doing that night. 

 Minho stared down at you, as his weight dipped the mattress underneath you. He drew close to your frame that was splayed out of the bed haphazardly, still in your short skirt that had risen your waist exponentially. 

 “Nah- gonna fuck you raw tonight,” he began, just as he reached out to you, hand finding that same spot between your legs. Then he was drawing shapes against your puffy clit, index finger dipping into your entrance. “Gonna bust this tiny pussy wide open with my seed.” 

 You swallowed over the groan that wanted to escape from you then. And then the breath was completely caught in your throat, as Minho guided his cock through your folds. Your entire body shuddered at the feeling of it all, and you stared down between you, anticipating everything. 

 In the next beat, he was ramming into you. As soon as he sunk in, bottoming out, he set a hellish pace. Skin slapping against skin, he thrusted in and out. Already you were beginning to move up the bed, screaming out in mindless bliss. 

 “Holy shit- you’re so fucking hot, babygirl,” Minho purred lowly, as his hands gripped onto your waist, guiding you up and down on his cock with each pound of his hips, “Makes me wanna ruin you so much… you’d like that, yeah? Getting fucked over by my cock- bet it’d make you go all crazy and shit.” 

 “Mhm-” You groaned in a loud voice, eyes rolling into the back of your skull as his dick pressed into that gooey spot inside of you. His thumb ghosted over your clit, dragging you back across the cliffside of orgasm faster than you had thought. “Want you to ruin me, daddy… fuck me til I’m crying.” 

 As soon as you felt one of his hands travel up your sternum, stopping at one of your breasts, your eyes were shooting open. His fingers toyed with you, pulling and twisting your pert bud. “Oh, don’t worry, kitten,” he said, words trailing off as he pressed you so far into the bed with his rutting alone that you swore you saw the heavens cast over your mind. “I know how much of a cockwhore you are- how much of a slut you are, for dressing up so provocatively at my work- so I’m gonna give it to you nice and good… gonna have you screaming my name, mind all fuzzy and thoughts gone as I pump you full of my cum.” 

 Your eyes locked after that, and the spark that had been lit deep inside of your heart the moment you laid eyes upon Minho burned brighter. Because you knew that no matter what, he’d always love you. 

 And no amount of weight gain, or weight loss, was going to change that. 

 He was always going to be there for you, 

 Helping you survive through all of the pain and memories, 

 Guiding you on the pathway of forgetfulness, 

 Wiping your mind of all the heartbrokenness in just the right way. 

Fin.

🌾 taglist: want to be added onto my taglist? well then, comment below on this post/reblog it, and indicate your interest in my taglist and i'll add you... or, you can send me a msg and request to be added!! to be removed from the taglist, please send me a msg and i will promptly take you off of the list.

🌾 tags: @sleepyleeji :: @if-spearb :: @hyunes4ngel :: @drhsthl :: @seosalad :: @toomuchtellyneck :: @endzii23 :: @smally97 :: @ana-marais98 :: @sherryblossom :: @priincehoseok :: @biribarabiribbaem :: @linovely :: @lolqxv :: @linonyang :: @morningstardada :: @taeriffic :: @day6andetcetera :: @hyuka-luvbot :: @linohumina :: @urmomma0324 :: @poisonivy2 :: @nappynapnaps :: @bellamuerte1987 :: @julciaqwerty :: @abbiestearsricochet :: @leeknowsramen :: @maeleelee :: @cb97breathing :: @armystay89 :: @drhsthl :: @skzcollision :: @noellllslut :: @skz-streamer :: @hello-2-u-from-me :: @feellikecinderella :: @/leyknxw a yellow tag means that there was an error in tagging you.

#skz #stray kids #skz reaction #skz oneshot #skz imagine #skz scenario #skz fanfic #skz minho #lee Minho #lee know #skz lee know #skz minho fanfic #skz minho smut #skz smut #skz smut onshot #skz minho smut oneshot #skz lee know smut oneshot #skz lee know smut imagine #skz x reader #skz x y/n #skz minho x reader #skz minho x y/n #skz lee know x reader #skz lee know x y/n #lee know smut #skz angst #skz fluff #skz minho angst #skz minho angst oneshot #skz minho fluff oneshot

[zainmalik]

hi everyone!!! so as a lot of you know i’ve been struggling with mental health these past couple of weeks, particularly with intrusive thoughts. it’s not something i’m new to, as i’ve struggled with them for years as a result of my anxiety disorder. however, this time it’s affecting something that i’ve considered my safe space and comfort for a long time, and in turn has made me relapse into depression. because of this, i’ve decided that after the nyc show i’ll take a long break, and since louis and harry will be on breaks anyway i won’t get fomo, which is what’s kept me here. unfortunately having intrusive thoughts when you have an anxiety disorder is permanent, so during the break i’ll work on co-existing with them so they can’t affect me and my life anymore.

i wanted to make this post not only to announce my break, but for other two reasons. one, if you’re in any way struggling with mental health or intrusive thoughts, know that you’re not alone in this. your intrusive thoughts do not define you. they’re not secretly something you actually want or desire. they make you feel bad, uncomfortable, disgusted, angry, sad, etc for a reason. you are not your intrusive thoughts. i learned that the more you fight them, the more you think about them, and the more they’ll affect you. the first step is to accept them as something that’s there, let them flow, let them pass, explore them in your mind, so the anguish feeling will slowly fade and eventually they’ll be background noise, and then leave. talk to someone you trust about them. write them down. shout them. let them out. seek mental help if it’s possible. just remember, once again, you are not alone in this. remember to be kind to yourself.

two, i want to thank every single one of you who has reached out to or thought about me in any capacity. from sending me encouraging messages to listening to me to even just liking my vent posts. it means a lot to me to know people care about me. i appreciate it so much. thank you all for being so kind, so understanding and so thoughtful. no matter what, i will always remember this.

i don’t have much else to say. be kind. stay safe. you are not alone. i love you.

#logan.txt

[thesparklingwriter]

don't dwell on the past

'"Please forgive me," he says, kissing your hand lightly.'

tags: pet names, Zhongli is very pure, soft Zhongli, fem!reader, Zhongli and reader are in a relationship, reader and Zhongli fall out, reader tries to sleep on the couch, someone remind me to come back and edit this

masterlist | ao3 link | taglist | next

please do not repost or edit my work. reblogs are greatly appreciated !

i'm also taking ideas for the rest of the flufftober days, feel free to leave any suggestions in my asks, no matter how self-indulgent they may be!

You and Zhongli rarely fall out. To be more exact, you rarely fall out over anything serious. And even when you do, screaming matches and insults are never thrown about, and today is no exception. The problem is that sometimes, quiet, rational words don't do enough to show how you feel, and you wish you could have a good old scream at a wall, just to get rid of the tension. You love Zhongli, you truly do. But he can be really out of touch with you sometimes.

"I really don't like it when you intervene when I'm fighting." you say to him, after a silent journey home. You prefer discussing things at home than out where everyone can hear you. It's probably why you like living in the mountains so much.

"I know.” Zhongli sighs. He'd moved by instinct, driven by his desire to keep you safe. He has to manually override the urges he's gotten used to condoning as an archon, and he tries his best for your sake. Either way, he doesn't want you to think he's making excuses for himself, so he tries to word things carefully. "I should have made more of an effort to respect your wishes."

You nod. "Sometimes it makes me feel like you don't think I'm capable."

"I don't think that. Not at all. I like protecting you because I know it's a luxury, and it’s something you’re more than capable of doing yourself. But I understand." Zhongli says softly. You nod, thankful for his ever-reasonable response, and scold yourself for getting so frustrated. He was only trying to keep you safe, but it felt like he was undermining years of your experience. "I shall think of a compromise so this doesn't happen again."

Zhongli always gets formal when it comes to disagreements. He's driven towards an end solution, to the point when you sometimes have to tell him that you want to feel a little bit sad. Bottling up the emotions doesn't make you feel all too great, especially when it's because you feel unreasonable. "Can we talk about that tomorrow, please?"

He looks at you, sensing that today is one of those days when you want to be upset for a little while. He nods. He'll oblige you for a while longer, but he won't let you go to sleep angry at him. Just as you never let him sleep angry at you. He wonders whether you know you do it, how you always make sure he's okay after an argument, or whether it's a habit burned into your sheer being. He doesn't care. He loves it anyway.

But he also senses that this has been brewing for a little while. There was two weeks ago, when a Fatui skirmisher was about to hit your blind spot and he shielded you. Your complaint on that front was quick surface level—you admitted that you forgot to cover your blind spot. And then there was the week after that when you were in a domain, and he panicked yet again, generating a pillar directly in your line of sight. You'd taken a while to calm down from that one. And finally today. You were going to go out on your own for some practice, but Zhongli couldn't bear the thought of you getting injured, especially against Sumerian enemies you had no experience with. He promised he would only intervene when you told him to, but once again, he panicked and petrified all the enemies in a mile radius.

You understand that he's protective of you, but archons, he can be a little suffocating sometimes.

"I'm going to clean up and get changed," you say to him. You know he'll hover downstairs for a little while and give you your space before joining you in bed. But today, you don't want to be so easily swayed. Maybe a night on the couch is in order.

You grab a light cover from the closet and make your way downstairs. You meet Zhongli halfway, who's in his archon form. You frown to yourself. Zhongli's archon form finds itself displayed to you on various occasions, some of them as domestic as wanting to change a lightbulb, but there are times when it has significance. Like him wanting to release himself of some tension. Is he beating himself up over this that badly?

"Where are you going?" He asks, eyes laced with confusion.

"I think I'm going to stay on the couch tonight. I'm going to think about some things."

Zhongli doesn't seem entirely pleased with that, but he doesn't dare tell you otherwise. He has to give you your space, he reminds himself.

"Alright," he says softly. "Sleep well." He omits the 'love' he usually adds at the end, for fear of making you feel obliged to follow him up the stairs. Your feelings are always his priority. He knew what he was getting into with you, and he refuses for his ignorance or inability to control his own instinct to ruin things.

"You too."

He goes into the room you share before deciding that, if you're not joining him, he'd rather not be painfully reminded of your absence, so he changes course and heads to a spare room with his change of clothes. Usually, he talks to you as you wash your face, or you braid his hair for him before you get too tired, but there are no such intimacies happening today. You've been upset with him for a grand total of three hours and he already misses you.

He quiets his thoughts and crawls into bed. Bad call. The bed in this room wasn't chosen with his eight-foot-tall form in mind. He'll either have to shift back and deal with the repercussions or spend the entire night with half of his body hanging off the bed.

You can't sleep either. You never realised how much you relied on Zhongli's calming effect on you to sleep so peacefully. It's almost embarrassing how much you rely on him, even after a year of being together, to the point when you miss him when he's in a room away from you. You decide that if Zhongli doesn't come downstairs in the next ten minutes, you'll go to him. There's really no point in dragging this on any further. Your need to be a little bit sad has blossomed into feelings of loneliness, and you can't take the extra pain.

"yn?" You sit up, glancing at the staircase. There stands Zhongli, his hair untied, his pyjamas rumpled as if he'd been tossing and turning all night. "May I talk to you?"

Always so formal, you think, before standing up and approaching him.

"I know I'm often overbearing when it comes to your safety," he says softly, taking your hands in his. “And I know it can be frustrating for you. But I promise I will do whatever it takes to restrain myself from inciting this sort of complaint from you again.”

You should be focusing on his words, but you're more distracted by the fact he's on his knees before you, looking up at you with such an earnest gaze.

"Please forgive me," he says, kissing your hand lightly. You slide your hands out of his, and into the hair between his horns. He smiles blissfully, glancing at you through relief-filled eyes. “I can’t bear to spend the night without you by my side.”

"I can't stay mad at you," you sigh. "You're forgiven. You can get off your knees now."

Zhongli chuckles, standing up and pulling you into a hug. "I have a feeling you're trying to hide how much pleasure you found in that."

You roll your eyes and lead him upstairs by his hand. "I'm not hiding anything."

"Fine then, remind me of what I said." Zhongli crosses his arms, and you ignore him, sitting him down on the bed so you can reach his hair. He thinks your ritual of braiding his hair is for his sake, but in reality, if you don't do it, you end up with half of it in your mouth in the night.

"No need to dwell on the past," you quip, leaning down to kiss his neck softly. "All is forgiven, remember?"

a/n there's a whole section that got removed between reader being upstairs and coming back down, I'll fix it at someone point but i blame ao3

#zhongli #zhongli fancfic #flufftober #zhongli flufftober #genshin fanfic #genshin fluff #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #my beloved <3 #headcanons #fanfiction #ao3 fanfiction #thank you for all the likes and reblogs i was scared this blog would stay buried #zhongli fluff #zhingli fluff #31 days of Zhongli fluff #tswzhongliflufftober

[feelbokkie]

Emergency Feelbokkie's Room

look, I'm not mad, just disappointed and very, very tired. me mental health was already not doing well to begin with and that's why I took a two week break and it still wasn't 100% when I came back but I did bc I genuinely love being on this account and engaging with you guys.

that being said, some of you might have noticed that I haven't been as active on here compared to how much time I spent on here before my break

that's because shit in my ask box has gotten out of hand since Monday, and I cleared my ask box before i left by doing all the requests I was willing and able too and deleting the nastier comments.

I know I was writing like a literally beast before, but I am a person who has feelings. I know you can't see me but please remember that.

it is only wednesday but I nearly at my breaking point.

I don't ask a lot from you guys, just to be kind and respectful. it's written in my pinned post and my rules for requests. and that is not only to me but it extends to my moots and my followers as well. my account is meant to be a safe space for everyone and I want to keep it that way.

i don't appreciate being sworn at (unaffectionately) or being told who I should or shouldn't interact with or what I should or shouldn't post

if you have a problem with something I post bc it's in excess or not why you followed me, I do tag everything so feel free to blacklist them:

#feelbokkie rambles (for all my posts that have nothing to do with my original works)

#feelbokkie answers (for all of my answered asks)

hell, if you have a problem with me responding to any of my emoji anons, block those tags too since I put #*insert emoji her* anon

If you're not sure how to blacklist a tag, I made a helpful guide back when Don't Let Me Love You was at it's peak

or if you want, you can simply unfollow me

for those of you who don't like how I portrayed certain skz members in past smaus, it's all fiction and I do not know what else to tell you it is very obvious that I don't think of them in any of the negative ways you're saying I do.

I am so close to taking off anon which isn't fair to my emoji mutuals or those of you who feel more comfortable interacting with me from anon or those who want to make a request and don't want to be judged but if the several of you, or maybe it's just one of you, don't stop, I'm going to have to take it away to protect me peace. I get so much anxiety when I see a new notification next to my inbox that it is raising my anxiety and puts me on the borderline of an anxiety attack every time now it's not even funny

knock it off, I am so fucking serious

for those of you who are being kind and respectful, thank you and I'm sorry

#feelbokkie answers #emergency feelbokkies room

[baddieladdie]

Who silence is for - Oh, Uncle!

a Charthur fanfic

Rating - Chapter 1. G

Charles Smith has been secretly (not so secretly) involved with long standing Van der linde member, Arthur Morgan. Some members of the gang would say Arthur's influence is part of the reason why Charles was allowed to join the gang. The two souls always had a far deeper connection than anyone else in the camp. Sean tried to crack Charles' cool exterior with jokes. Uncle tried nearly every day to conversate with him. But none knew Charles as well as Arthur. And Arthur knows how important space and dignity is to Charles. When Uncle begins to prod and pester Charles over dinner time, Arthur knows to step in

~ Or just read below the break ~

- Chapter 4 -

The Van der Linde gang is holed up at the Shady Belle camp in Bayou Nwa, Lemoyne

“I don’t like being this far south, Arthur!” Tilly shouted, stomping after the weary cowpoke, struggling under the weight of a choice buck carcass on his shoulder.

“Good a place as any to get chased by the law” He grunted, wiping the sweat trailing down his brow.                                          

“I. am. negro,” Tilly speed up to stand in front of him, blocking hid path to Person’s table where the chubby old man chopped robots veggies for that evenings stew. “Arthur, you know what that can mean for me. I was promised we’d stay out west.” The setting sun set her amber eyes ablaze. Or perhaps it was simply the passion behind them that convinced him to slow down some. A pitiful sigh broke his stark body language. 

 “I know. I’m sorry, Miss Tilly.” He placed a casual, comforting hand on her shoulder which she promptly grabbed to hold in her own. “I’ll keep you safe. I promise. Ain’t nothing gonna happen to yous here.”

“My mama was a slave ‘til she was 15!” Tilly cried out. Mr. Pearson shot a concerned glance Arthur’s way, but the man simply nodded. 

“And we would never let that happen to you. Those men in Rhodes? They’re dead now. We protect our own, and that includes you. You’ll be alright. We all will.”

“I-” Emotion caught in her throat. Arthur squeezed her hand in response and softly let it go, her hand falling back to her side.

“Thank you, Arthur.” Tilly nodded slowly and wandered towards the house.

“Well, that was certainly some smooth talkin’ there, cowboy,” Mr.Pearson greeted warmly, already admiring the prize balanced on Arthur’s shoulders. “What’d ya find out there for me?”

With a mighty grunt of effort, Arthur dropped the buck on the butcher block. “Ain’t nothing too special, but it should be enough to feed the camp for ‘while”

“With this? Hell, we could keep ‘em feed for a week! Thanks, Arthur. I’ll get this cleaned up right away.”

Arthur ran his coarse fingers through the waves of his hair. His scalp was damp with sweat but had avoided sunburn with the hat he always wore. He returned the worn leather hat to its rightful place and eyed the activity bustling about the camp.

“Oh, and Arthur?”

“Yes?”

“Stews ready. Help yourself.”

He nodded his appreciation and stiffly lumbered towards the savory aroma emanating from the cast iron pot hanging about a simmering flame.

Cicadas sang between the milkweeds of the river beds. Flies buzzed past his ear; their annoying, constant hum was his greatest complaint. Humidity could be managed with a dip in the creek or with lighter clothes. The flies? Well, there ain’t much anyone could do ‘bout them.

“So…How are you, Mr. Smith?” Uncle’s voice carried over the sound of Arthur ladeling himself a serving of stew.

“Fine.” Charles responded flatly.

Uncle chuckled playfully. The jeering undertone of the sound caught Arthur’s attention. Uncle leaned over his stew, balancing a spoon between wrinkled fingers. Charles, sat across from him. Begrudgingly, by the looks of it. His large hands curled around his stew bowl, protecting his meal.

“Have you been up too much, have ya?”

“Not really.” The same flat tone.

“Read any interesting books recently?”

“No.” 

Charles shoveled a spoonful of stew into his mouth, chewing slowly, he wished the conversation could end so he could enjoy the meal in peace. In silence. He looked at the ground, ignoring the heat of Uncle’s glare. A pair of familiar boots stopped next to him.

“Care if I join you?” Arthur gestured towards the empty stool which Charles promptly pulled out for him.

“Please. Good to see you.”

“Aren’t it good to see me too?” Uncle pestered but gained no response from him. 

*awkward silence*

“Well, uh…” Uncle desperately racked his mind to think of a catchy conversation starter. “Seen any plays?”

“No.” Charles responded dryly.

“Arthur?”

Arthur paused, a spoonful of stew inches from his mouth. “No, can’t say that I have.”

Uncle huffed, straightening himself up, clanking his spoon against his empty stew bowl. 

“Heard any good jokes?”

“Yeah.” Charles responded, as flatly as ever. Arthur raised an eyebrow at him. Wasn’t like Charles to give into Uncle’s games.

“Well, You fancy sharing it with me?” Uncle snorted.

“No.” 

Arthur stifled a laugh with a poorly placed cough. Uncle glared at him, so he returned his attention to his stew. In doing so, he caught a glimpse of a smirk crossing Charles’ face. 

“Ya know…I’d wouldn’t wanna be stuck in the wilderness with you, Charles. I’ve had more fun watchin’ the grass grow.”

“Please, go watch it” Charles sarcastically mumbled. 

“No, some day, you will warm up to me”

“Humph.” Charles grunted sarcastically

"What are you gettin' at Charles for?" Arthur crossed his arms.

"I should've known you'd take his side."

"What's that supposed to mean? - Wait, Don't answer that. I don't wanna know. Just-Just stop bein' an idiot."

Uncle rolled his eyes. How pointless is this. He'd have better conservations with the horses.

“So, I was thinkin’...” Uncle started.

“Does it pay well?” Arthur jeered.

Uncle chuckled, hiding his embarrassment. “I think I found us a lead. A damn good one, ‘bout the bank in Rhodes.”

Arthur chuckled at the idiocracy. Uncle wasn’t exactly known for his reconnaissance.

“That so, Uncle? How did you come across this…information?” Arthur gestured, the beer in his hand sloshing against the sides of the bottle.

“Met a man at the station. I paid ‘em, of course.”

“How much?”

“Wa?”

“Ya heard me. How. Much.”

“uh…$20” Uncle mumbled.

“Twenty Dollars?! Jesus, Uncle! You shure we ain’t the ones gettin’ robbed here?”

“Yeah, I am sure! I found that lead. And maybe,” Uncle glanced around the camp for prying ears and leaned forward. “I will let you boys come with me. Just no whining, arthur”

“Oh shut up,” Arthur grumbled, smacking the table. “Or I’ll make you whine.”

“Isn’t that Charles' job? Makin’ you whine, Arthur?”

“ tisk - Gimmie this.” Charles yanked the mug of cheap whiskey, warmed by the southern heat, from Uncle's grasp. “Think you’ve had enough.”

Arthur leaned towards Charles, whispering in his ear.

“Can i offer you a libation of any kind?”

“No thank you, Arthur. Im alright” Charles whispered back.

“‘Ight, just dont say i didnt offer” Arthur sat back up, just too tired to glare at Uncle.

“Well, I’m finished. Pleasure eatin’ with you, Uncle. We’ll talk more about that Rhode’s job of yours in the mornin’.”

“Good Even’, Morgan” Uncle waved, like the fuckin dingus he is.

“I better get going.”

“Oh well. You love birds have fun tonight~” Uncle teased.

“Uncle.”

“Yes, Charles?”

“Shut up.”

-----------------------------------

If you use my work, please tag me! I want to read your work too

#rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan #charles smith #rdr2 pearson #shady belle #red dead redemption #rdr2 uncle #rdr2 arthur #charthur #charles x arthur #arthur x charles #ao3 fanfic #ao3fic #ao3 writer #xdreamwriterx #baddieladdie #part 1 of 2 #fluff #hurt/comfort #introvert

[firespirited]

Enjoyed The Will to Change: Men, Masculinity and Love by bell hooks very much.

Lots of photos of passages that hit hard that I'll edit and post eventually.

It's easy reading and also not. And it's well named.

There are people who you can support and love unconditionally, to whom you provide the care and emotional space to grow and the grace when they mess up... and it doesn't work. We can pour ourselves into giving the gift of a safe, stable environment to grow and get back in touch with all that their inner child cut off and stuff that they need to deal with... And nothing... because there's no will to change. Not even when the change would make them happier, have stable relationships, get into less trouble.

I really appreciate that hooks made that flipside a part of the message. It's so easy to blame yourself for not managing to save someone who didn't want saving and doesn't think they need to grow at all.

She addresses her failed relationships despite seeing so many men in group discussions and in her life come to massive realisations about themselves and undertaking life-changing growth like daring to truly love their kids openly. She also shouted out the queer amab folks who've rejected toxic masculinity: not just the misogyny and repression but the whole shebang : redefining manliness, de-gendering nurturing, refusing any dominance based relationships.

The book is written in binary gender wording in the hope it'll reach the most needing audience (2004 was a while back too) but its thesis is that gender roles hurt us all and people who deviate from that norm are no longer considered correct and good males or females whatever different sexuality, gender change, gender non conformity visible or practiced landed you in the 'queer' box. The language is not up to date but the message is on point.

If you prefer video essays Fiq da signifier has several about men and boys, black men and boys, and who gets brainwashed into the manosphere.

But bell hooks has a way of presenting a thesis with quotes, evidence anecdotes then a one line summary that'll punch you in the neurons.

I was listening to some music from 'pop and indie you need to hear this week' and my brain was seeing patterns clearer than just 'dump the asshole' or 'no you're not fixed and whole because or this relationship as lovely as they are, your lyrics (and past lyrics) suggest you've done the work on yourself and are ready now that someone who's also done the work has arrived and that would be an even better song than this one) because of those two books. As much as I felt the first 'All about Love' was preaching to this choir, it also gave focus and succinct concepts.

I look forward to hearing what mum has to say about this one. She fell out with 'feminism' because of the separatists and gender essentialists (bullied by girls and women and also a social worker until burn out - leaves you no illusions about the natural nurturing divine feminine)

She's known men (and both parents) with little to no will to change who were love black holes and men who've defied their upbringing and culture to be the best dad or partner even though they've been shamed for it. Then again, she might give me a brief 'it was interesting' and shut down conversation because feelings are too much. And in two years time she'll drop 'as bell hooks said' into a conversation and I'll know it helped a little.

#saf #Book review #bell hooks #the will to change

[girlgotattitude448]

I don’t usually post personal things here, but I need to empty my brain after the past 24 hours.

Last night and today, my university community experienced a mass shooting that left three students dead and two more injured.

Our community has experienced so much violence in recent years, and each time, old wounds are reopened on top of new ones.

Personally, this is the first time I have been affected by this violence, albeit indirectly. I am still reeling, as I’m sure everyone else in my community is as well. I stayed up until 5 am waiting for any news, until I could barely keep my eyes open. While my university was under a shelter in place order for 12 hours, students barricaded themselves in buildings across campus, fearing for their lives. I was luckily at home in my apartment when we first received the emergency alerts, so my fear felt more removed but nonetheless still real.

I’m writing this on Tumblr because I’ve always appreciated the community and safe space it’s provided me over the years, and I didn’t want to disrupt the grieving process of fellow community members on other social platforms. I also needed a place to express my thoughts and feelings away from the eyes of others, a feeling of anonymity if you will.

That being said, I feel so guilty for feeling awful when other people are grieving the deaths of their children, their friends, their classmates, and their students. I know this is survivor’s guilt, but am I a survivor? Last night, I spent hours glued to my phone, sending out texts and waiting for more information on the suspect who had yet to be apprehended. During all of this, I still felt somewhat safe. And I feel ashamed for saying that when so many people didn’t. I was still able to sleep for 5 hours when others didn’t sleep at all. I woke up and had breakfast and watched a movie with my roommate. As soon as we finished, I was back to my phone retweeting updates and resources as I could not stop thinking about the violence that had visited my community yet again.

I responded to so many text from family and friends. I called my parents. I took a nap. I laid on the floor. I cried as I read the messages and stories shared online. I literally could not make my mind think about anything else. I cried some more. I watched another movie, and the brief suspension of reality was somehow worse than the first time I tried to distract myself. As I lay awake in bed, I’m once again thinking about my community and the lives we lost. I’m still incredibly devastated and feeling and processing and I don’t know if what I’m feeling has words to describe it. But also, I’m now so angry.

I’m angry that I live in a country where mass shootings, especially at schools, is commonplace, where guns are a right. I’m so fucking pissed that I can’t get away from the many posts about who is winning what race in the midterm elections when so many politicians are unwilling to do what it takes to pass comprehensive gun reform laws and to protect us. I’m also mad that I’ll see family and friends again who will think that I’m okay, recovered and continue their lives, voting for people who do not care about gun reform. Friends and family who are all too willing to help normalize this mass violence.

I know this post is nonsensical as I get my thoughts out, but I felt compelled to write it as my school and community disappear from the headlines, the trending lists, and your current thoughts.

We have so much grieving ahead of us. So much work to be done. But I’m still hopeful. If doomscrolling today has taught me one thing, it’s that my community is resilient. Even though we shouldn’t have to be, we are strong and resilient and we will take care of each other in the coming days, weeks, months. However long it takes.

I also wanted to take the time to thank my support circle and my peers. You all are what’s gotten me through this past day and what will continue to get me through the rest of this semester.

As a student journalist, I’m also so grateful for my fellow student and local journalists who continued to provide the university community with crucial updates even as they experienced this tragedy with us. I understand people’s frustrations with news media, but these journalists in the past day have done such important work and they should not be hated for it. While national outlets flooded our town, intruding upon our lives (even publishing an article that recapped tragic events in our community from recent years), local journalists told our stories with care, as only people also experiencing this violence could. I have always admired the work of reporters, and while there are always frustrations and problems with covering mass shootings like this, I’m thankful for our local journalists today.

As the media outlets disperse, onto the next tragedy to fill their 24 hour news cycles, and as we disappear from the trending lists, know that we’re still here, grieving and processing in their wake. It’s unreal to me how my feeds are slowly starting to fill back up with the usual content. People, some of whom I know, have posted their requisite sympathy posts and are returning to their regularly scheduled content. I can’t really say much against this since I’ve likely been in this position during previous tragedies (and it’s awful that this is far from the first).

But a recent post really hit home for me: they really don’t tell you what it’s like as the world moves on around you. How has our school and town disappeared from trending pages? How can you post anything normal? How does the world keep going when ours has frozen? I don’t know. I really don’t know.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read. I love my community and I’m so proud of my peers for coming together during this time. I know we will persevere, but the road ahead is long and the destination fogged.

Take care of each other. 🧡💙

#trigger warning: gun violence #trigger warning: violence #trigger warning: mass shooting #gun violence #mass shooting #gun control #us politics #school shooting #journalism #reporting #local news #local journalism

[duskholland]

Settle || Mob!Tom Smut

summary ↠ distance may make the heart grow fonder, but you’d spend every day by tom’s side if you could. warnings ↠ a bit of angst, and this is just.... so fucking smutty.... pwp but make it 8k of smut... 18+ minors dni !!!!!!!!!!! extended nsfw warnings below the cut <3 word count ↠ 11.7k. a/n ↠ lads... lost my mind I’ve lost it. the mob!tom energy has been absolutely overwhelming for the last month, and this has been a long time coming. thank you esquire. thank you gq. thanks tom too, I guess, even though his handsomeness is a double-edged sword. also thanks to chloe for motivating me to write this lmao. this was a lot of fun!! softness sweetness debased animalistic crazy stuff. we love to see it. lmk what you think !! <3 ***this is a part of my mob!tom series – a collection of oneshots set within the same universe. you don’t need to read the other parts for this to make sense! 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

extended warnings ↠ praise kink, breeding kink, cockwarming, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, crying, biting, spitting, oral + fingering (fem receiving), unprotected sex (the long-awaited return of cum-dumpster!reader), minor d/s dynamics ft soft!dom!tom, possessiveness in the dirty talk, and I wouldn’t say it’s degradation but there is some patronisation lmao. this is intense loving passionate consuming smut, esp the second section. pls practice safe sex irl x

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

✧ *:･ﾟSETTLE･ﾟ:*✧

Tom is wrapped around you, his rich scent overpowering each one of your senses. He consumes you. He becomes you.

With your face buried in the crook of his neck and your legs swung either side of his thighs, you’re clinging tightly to him. One of his hands rests beneath the shirt on your back, the tips of his fingers slowly stroking up and down your spine, and you can feel the firm press of his nose against the side of your head. His face nestles against your hair as he holds you to the warm skin of his neck. Every few minutes, Tom pulls away from the documents and spreadsheets resting on his desk and litters the side of your temple with short kisses.

There’s a persistent throbbing between your legs, but it’s worth it. Tom’s cock is buried inside you, his length enveloped by your silky heat. You can feel him, bearing in on every intimate space of your cunt. In your aroused state, you swear you can make out the lines of his bulbous head and the curves of his veins as they press up against your sensitive walls. You’re pulsing—every slight movement made by either you or him causing you to gasp softly and cling closer to your boyfriend.

“God, darling,” Tom murmurs, accented voice hanging low and heavy. He strokes over your back again, and you hear him click his ballpoint pen. When he tosses the heavy metal object back onto the desk, he sits back in the wide office chair that the two of you are precariously balanced on. You aren’t scared of falling off—you’ve done this before, countless times. You know that he’s got you. “So fuckin’ snug, aren’t you?”

You pull away from your boyfriend’s neck, sucking in a rough breath as you sit up to face him and receive the lightest of friction against your g-spot. As your teeth dig into your lower lip, you take a few moments to admire his ensemble—light white shirt, unbuttoned and hanging open, a delicate silver chain dangling over the golden expanse of his chest. He’s got his rings stacked over his fingers, and the bright metal pieces catch in your hair as he smoothes a hand across your cheek.

Tom smirks at you, his deep brown eyes flooded with lusting appreciation. With one hand on your face, the other slowly slides down your back, drifting over the loose shirt that covers your figure until it disappears between your legs. You cry out as his index finger reaches down to play with your clit, still wet and sensitive from his exploration earlier. He’d opened you up on his tongue before sheathing himself inside you.

“You just got so tight, angel,” he murmurs, voice raspy. “Do you like when I show you a bit of attention?”

“Yeah,” you whimper. You can barely keep your eyes open as he continues to toy with your bud. It’s hard to push down the temptation to start riding him, but you know that’s not the point of this. As much as you crave release and the opportunity to fall apart whilst being encompassed by Tom, there are other objectives at play. “I’ll miss this,” you admit. “I’ll miss you.”

“I know, my darling.” Tom’s expression briefly clouds over, some of the heat leaving his eyes. He rolls the pad of his thumb across your cheekbone, a gentle pout curling across his lower lip. “I don’t want to leave you.”

You lick your lower lip, pushing back the hot lump of emotion that simmers in your chest. All week, you’ve felt apprehensive for his departure, anticipating today with unease. Tom is a good businessman, and usually he’s able to control his own empire from the comfort of his West London mansion. For so long, he’s been near you, lingering close, never trailing too far from your side. But there’s uncertainty in the air, and they need him out in Manchester for a few weeks to whip the boys back into shape. Until the supply issue is resolved, he’ll be away—away from you, and your bed, and the life that you’ve constructed so precariously together.

In this world of drugs and darkness, nothing is certain. You fall asleep beside Tom each night thankful that he’s safe, he’s here, he’s content. You know plenty of people who haven’t been afforded such a luxury. Your boyfriend has enemies who seek revenge and retribution, and their greedy eyes follow him from every direction. They’re like wolves, every single one of them—suppliers, rivals, the law—waiting in the shadows, preparing to pounce at the first sign of weakness.

You shouldn’t love him. He’s not a good man. Tom has told you as much repeatedly—in his deprecating words, in the underhanded dealings that go on around your dinner table, through his violent actions against opponents. But he loves you, and he is a good man, to you, and maybe that’s all that matters. Maybe you can take the pain and the darkness, because it affords you a glimmer of light in the form of your boyfriend. Tom holds you at the very centre of his universe, and as he cups your face in a gentle hand and coaxes you in for a sweet kiss, you know you wouldn’t have it any other way. Your life may be characterised by uncertainty, but there is no doubt in the way that he loves you, so recklessly and fiercely. He gives you everything that he has without hesitation.

The kiss grows deeper, and you moan into Tom as he presses his tongue into your mouth. He’s still rolling your clit beneath his thumb, and you reach up to grab fistfuls of his hair. When he’d pulled you into the office earlier and begged you to spend time with him, it’d come with the caveat that you need not distract him from his final pieces of work. He seems to have abandoned that decision now, as he ruts up into you when you groan into his mouth.

“Sweet love,” he purrs, voice darker. Tom squeezes your cheek, the cool metal of his ring pressing to your skin as he holds you tightly. He releases your face a moment later, fingers shifting to your waist as his lips grace over the tender part of your face. “God, I’ll miss you. Miss this fuckin’ cunt.” He kisses down from your cheek, shifting back and towards your ear. You release a wispy moan as he finds your tender spot, sucking harshly against the skin then soothing the ache with his hot tongue. “So perfect for me.”

“You’re perfect,” you murmur, mind slow. Tom holds your hip slowly and encourages you to move, and both of you release sounds of enjoyment as you begin to ride him. Your entrance aches, stretched wide around his girth, but as his finger rubs persistent circles across your bud, it soothes into pleasure. “Fuck, Tom… You fill me up completely. You’re in so deep.”

“I know, darling,” he murmurs. When you toss your head back and start to move faster, he’s quick to attach his lips to your neck. “Tightest little thing,” he adds, voice scalding against your ear. “I know I’ll be dreaming of you, angel. Every single night.”

You cry out as he helps you shift slightly to the side, optimising your pleasure. As the crown of Tom’s cock rubs up against your back wall, you shudder, breath hitching. The sounds of your heat, so wet and silky, being fucked repeatedly as you come down on him again and again spurs you on. It grows wild quickly, Tom leaving your neck and sitting back in his chair just to watch you ride him so perfectly. His eyes are dark and passionate, and his gaze so intense that it’s as if he’s trying to burn the memory to mind.

“I don’t think I can hold it,” you admit, eyes threatening to roll back. After sitting on his cock for fifteen minutes, you were already riled up. Now, you’re on cloud nine. Pleasure has your toes curling, the muscles in your thighs tensing and straining as you cling to the back of Tom’s head and tug on his curls. “T-Tom.”

“That’s it, gorgeous. Say my name.”

His ring digs into your side, spurring you on. As the cool metal nicks at your skin, the coil in your stomach tightens further.

“Oh,” you moan, eyes fluttering shut. No longer able to see Tom’s handsome face, you’re left only with the sensations, pulsing out from your centre. You’re on the verge, inching closer with every time Tom pulls you back onto his cock. He works you open, thrusts into you deep, leaves you gasping.

“C’mon, pretty baby,” he murmurs, hot lips moving forward to press at your neck. “Make me cum. I know you want it, don’t you?”

A throaty groan travels past your lips as you know exactly what he’s talking about. You’d stopped taking birth control a week ago, and though both of you know that the chances of you falling pregnant so soon after ending those hormones are slim, the possibility is there. Sex now feels dangerous, the extra weight to it filling you with arousal and excitement.

“Yes,” you whimper. “Please.”

Tom nips at your ear, the bite of pain making you moan.

“Go on,” he coos, voice sweet, sultry. “I’m going to fill you up, darling. Give you something to remember me by.” His hand slips from his waist and travels to your lower stomach, resting there. “Right here,” he adds. “Do you want it, love? You need to work for it. Cum on my cock, mm? Let me feel how desperate your tight little pussy is for my cum.”

Tom snaps his hips up to yours, and a few moments later, you peak. Your climax burns through you, your walls clamping down around his length in a way that makes him groan loudly. You open your eyes to watch his face seize up, freezing with pleasure and enjoyment as his jaw tenses and his eyes squeeze shut. You feel his cock pulsing as you continue to move over him, lost in the pleasure that spirals out from your cunt and your clit. His pants are laboured too.

When you come down from it, you settle in his lap, sweaty palms grasping at his face. Tom pulls you closer, wrapping you up in his arms as he presses his forehead to yours. His nose bumps against yours, tip warm. Every part of him is warm.

“I love you so much,” he says, voice serious. “More than you could ever imagine, Y/N.”

You smile. “I love you too,” you whisper.

Tom pulls back from you to pepper his lips across your face, dusting every inch of your skin with his mouth. You’re still connected at your centre, and you know the moment you stand, you’ll feel the evidence of his love dripping down your thighs.

“I—”

A rough knocking sound bursts into the room, hard knuckles drumming over the office door. You jump, and Tom’s brows crease. He brings both of his hands to cover your ears and kisses the tip of your nose before sitting up a little straighter.

“What the fuck do you want?” he hollers, voice terse. He’s muffling the volume with his palms, but you still wince, and he kisses your nose again in penance.

“Sir, we have to go. The men are waiting—”

Tom’s face ripples with irritation. You watch the vein stand out in his neck, fading only when his eyes sweep back to your face. He deflates as he brings his lips down across your forehead.

“I’ll be two minutes,” he barks back. “Now piss off. I’m with my girl.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tom peels his hands away from your ears, then rubs each one of your earlobes with the soft pads of his thumbs. “Sorry about that, my darling,” he mumbles, shadows covering his features. His teeth dig into his lower lip as he sighs. “I need to go.”

You feel your face fall, and break eye contact when the intensity of his gaze grows too much. “Okay,” you mumble.

“Hey.” Tom grasps your chin between his index and his middle finger. “I’ll come back to you,” he promises. You know he can feel your reluctance to let him go, can see it on your face without you having to verbalise it. You wonder if he’s been able to tell how unsettled you feel about the whole ordeal, and if maybe that’s why he’s let you be more clingy this week.

“What if you don’t?” you breathe out, unable to keep it in. You blink a few times, trying to hide the watery film of tears that shakes across your eyes. “What if something happens to you whilst you’re away, and you don’t come home?” You reach down and grab at his shirt, clenching your knuckles around the crisp material. “Tom, you are my home. I don’t know what I’ll do if—”

“I’ll come back, baby.” He kisses you softly, a few fingers brushing up beneath your chin and tilting you to him. “I always will. I promise. I’m a man of my word, so you know that’s true.”

You manage a thin smile, heart aching even as Tom cups your face in his hands. “I love you,” you say finally. “And I’ll be waiting for you to get back.”

Tom nods. His cheeks are still flushed, and his hair is a mess, but the fire in his eyes is undeniable. When he deposits a light kiss to your cheek and then lets his lips brush you against your earlobe, you know that he’ll be back. You know he’d never fail you.

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A month passes. You miss Tom desperately.

For the first three weeks, you manage to control the sadness in your chest. Finding distraction in your job and your friends, you’re able to forget about the giant Tom-shaped hole in your heart. He lingers on, though, his love persistent even in his absence. Despite finding certain ways to limit your anguish, like daily calls, and soaking your wrists in his cologne each morning, the time only worsens your heartache. You’re miserable without him.

In the fourth week, it reaches the point where you can no longer pretend you aren’t aching for him. You miss him in a way you’ve never felt before, his absence from your home like a sharp spire ever-present in your chest, burrowing deeper every lonely morning. Tom can’t ease you, doesn’t know himself when he’ll be able to come home. The job he’s had to do has spiralled, with mutinous men and delayed shipments, and it’s in too precarious a position for him to leave and come back to you. When you’d suggested visiting, he’d immediately wiped that option from the table, citing the acts of violence and uneven atmosphere as too great a risk to take. You understand it, but you miss him, and it permeates every part of your life.

It’s late Tuesday night, and in a fitless trance, you find yourself walking up to the third floor of the mansion. When you’d moved in, almost a year ago, Tom had tried to make you feel as comfortable as possible. In his efforts, he’d installed an art studio for you to use. The gesture went in tandem with his greatest gift to you so far—your very own art gallery, right in the centre of London. The studio is a large room, framed with huge windows which overlook the sprawling estate. Tonight, all you can make out is the dim driveway and the crescent moon, hanging thinly in the sky.

After turning on some music and slipping on your painting apron, you take your place in front of your easel. As you stare at the blank canvas, your fingers shift up to absently run the line of Tom’s ring. It hangs on a chain around your neck, silver and bold. You hadn’t realised that he’d left it with you until you’d reached into your pocket the day of his departure and found it sitting there. You know the matching ring stays wrapped around his pinky finger, and it brings you a sense of comfort to trace the smooth band and feel connected to him, even in a small way.

You decide to paint Tom, trying to coax him to life from your memories. Shades of gold and brown take form over your canvas. With every brush stroke and flick of your wrist, you feel lighter, some of the ache lessening.

Hours pass, interrupted only by the ringing of your phone. Biting back a small curse word as you feel your concentration shatter, you put your paintbrush down and tug your phone from your back pocket. Your frown fades as you see Tom’s name, flashing on the screen besides an image of his face.

“T,” you greet, the relief in your voice obvious even to you. “Hey.”

There’s silence for a few moments, then his voice crackles down the line. “Hi, darling,” Tom speaks. “It’s not too late to talk, is it?”

You glance up at the ornate clock sitting on the wall. The feature is grand and solid gold, matching the themes of the rest of his house. Tom likes decadence. His luxurious touch is evident in the patterns of red, black, and metals that cling to each article of furniture. When you see that it’s 2am, you blink a few times, shaking off your surprise as you realise how much time has passed since you’d started to paint.

“It’s okay,” you reply. “I’m painting.”

“Ahhh.” You hear the rustling of sheets, and you imagine Tom in bed. He’s probably bundled up in sweats and a hoodie, sprawled out across his mattress. The house in Manchester always runs cold, and you’ve heard his complaints consistently for the last few weeks. The image of him resting up against the headboard, pouting from beneath a pile of blankets makes you smile. “What are you working on?”

You smile into your phone, stepping back to admire your handiwork. “You,” you tell him. “Just your eyes at the moment, and the outline of your hair.”

“Me again?” Tom speaks, and his tone is like soft velvet, gentle and crushing at the edges. “I’m flattered, darling.”

“Mmm.” You fiddle with his ring. “I’ll need to dedicate a wall to you in the gallery. You’re my favourite muse.”

Tom chuckles. “That’d be an honour,” he says, voice dropping in volume. “It’s a privilege to be loved by you.” His voice twangs sadly, and you feel yourself frowning.

“Are you okay, baby?”

He’s quiet for a few moments. You find yourself biting your lip.

“Yeah,” he says, voice thicker. “Long day.”

“What did you do?”

He sucks in a harsh breath, air catching on the back of his teeth. “Can we just talk about you for a minute?”

Worry furrows your brow. “Okay,” you say, drawing out the syllable as you scramble for words to fill the gap. “Today I visited your mother.”

“Oh?”

“She wanted me to show her how I made those biscuits, from your birthday last year?” You pause until he makes a noise of recognition. “Ended up staying there for a while, had some tea. Gossiped about you.”

Tom snorts. “Learn anything good?”

“Only that you were just as much of a terror as a child,” you reply. “She sent me photos. I’ll text them to you later.”

It’d been a sobering experience to see Tom so animated and innocent as a child, but you don’t tell him that. So much as changed since he was seven and running through a field with his brothers. He has lost more than you could ever fathom.

“Did she show you the one with my head half shaved?”

You laugh. “Yeah,” you say, smiling against the phone. You’re holding the device tightly in your fingers, clinging to it almost desperately. “I can’t believe Harry did that to you.”

“Well, I did piss him off,” Tom reasons. “I got him back, anyway.”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck yeah, darling. Put a bunch of, like, millipedes and creepy crawly things in his bed.” Tom pauses to laugh, his voice lighter. “He hated me for about a year after that. Tried to kill me with his eyes every time he saw me.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re a nightmare,” you respond. “I’m seeing him at the weekend, and Sam. I can’t wait to get their perspectives on the demon you used to be.”

“I’m still a demon now, darling.”

“Yeah.” You lick across your lower lip, mind briefly darkening. He can be particularly devilish, whenever the mood strikes. “Love you, though.”

“And I love you.” Tom’s quiet again for a few moments, and when he speaks, his voice is gentle, “I love how much you like my family. It’s really special to me that you get along with them.”

You suck on your lower lip. “Of course,” you reply. “I love them. They… They feel like my brothers too, sometimes. Is that weird?”

“No.” You hear rustling again, followed by a soft grunt as he tries to find a better position to lay in. “Darling, family is everything to me, you know that. It’s a joy to see you fit in with my family, and I know they love you like a sister, too. Mum’s always saying how she sees you like a daughter.”

You glance up at your canvas, the shapes blurring with unshed tears. “She said that today, actually,” you murmur.

“Exactly.” Tom’s voice is passionate, alight and engaged. You can feel his strain. “You’re family.”

The air between you stills, and you wonder if he knows that you’re on the verge of tears, if he knows how grateful you are to him for inviting you into his life and letting you touch each piece of him without hesitation. The intricacies of his soul have gone so long unfelt, but he’s let you handle them, let you dust them off and admire them.

“Show me your art?” Tom adds, voice slightly thicker. “Please?”

“One sec.” You swallow down the hot lump of emotions that press at the back of your throat and pull your phone away from your ear. After briefly tousling your hair, you tap at the screen and enable the video setting. You flip the camera so it’s facing out in front of you, the canvas being framed by your phone screen. “This is what I’ve been doing today… Over there are the ones from the last few weeks.”

Tom spends a few minutes on a virtual tour of your studio, cooing soft words of endearment as you talk him through each piece. He’s tired, his voice often interspersed with soft yawns and grunts of fatigue, but he blows away all suggestions of disconnecting. Your tour takes you all throughout the house, showing him the slight alterations you’ve made to a few pieces of furniture in his absence. You end up in your bedroom, showing him the new blanket you bought for your bed.

“I want to see your face,” you whine, finally settling in bed. You’re laying on his side, head resting on top of the pillow that smells of him. Tom had watched you change into pyjamas, witnessed you brushing your teeth and getting ready for bed. All you’ve had is a black screen. “How am I supposed to sleep without seeing you, Tommy?” You pout at the blank phone, trying really hard to get him to yield. It’s 3am now and you’re delirious with fatigue, but you’re craving him more than ever.

“I don’t look nice, though,” he complains. “I look ugly.”

You practically recoil at the words. You hope he can feel the ferocity in your gaze as you glare at your phone’s camera.

“You don’t,” you say. “You never look anything short of handsome.”

Tom chuckles. “You’re too kind,” he says, “but really. I got beat up a bit. My face is all…” He makes a sound of nonchalance. “Well.. It doesn’t matter. You don’t need to know the gory details.”

Your eyebrows shoot up your forehead at the word gory. “Show me,” you ask, voice softer. You snuggle further into bed, pulling the sheets further around your figure and trying to pretend you’re being hugged by your boyfriend instead of the feather down duvet. “Please, baby. I’m worried.”

Tom sighs. “Okay, but before I show you, you have to promise not to freak out.” As he sees your widening eyes, he adds. “Exactly! Don’t freak out! I’m fine. Can’t even feel it, the amount of painkillers I’m on. I’m alright.”

“...Okay.”

A few moments pass, and you hear him curse as he clumsily presses at the screen. When your phone lights up, showing a depiction of your boyfriend’s face, you have to bite back a gasp. Bruises cloud his left cheek, deep shades of red clinging to his cheekbone. There are scratches, too, riddled with scabs and lined with pink skin. The most obvious and upsetting sign of his injury however is his nose.

“Did you break your nose again?” you ask, voice soft. The skin beneath his eyes is bruising, and there’s a dark mark across the bridge of his nose.

“No, thank god,” Tom murmurs. “Just got hit on it.”

He’s laying in bed too, and you turn onto your side and prop him up on one of the pillows so it’s as if he’s laying beside you. With a dark burgundy hoodie pulled over his head, obscuring his curls, he looks pale and tepid. His cheeks are sunken, and it’s not just from the injury. Tom seems exhausted.

“Are you okay, apart from that?”

“Hm?”

“Are you okay, Tom?”

He offers a weak smile. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” His voice fades with each iteration. You watch as Tom bites his lower lip, then reaches up to press his fingers into the tense lines of his pebbled forehead. “Just tired, darling. It’s been a busy week.”

“Come home,” you say, sleepy and wistful. “I’ll take care of you.”

“I can’t, my darling,” he mumbles. Tom’s eyes look at you sadly. “Things would fall apart.”

“You’re falling apart.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Will you?”

Tom’s quiet for a while, and you watch him swallow. He gives you a tense nod, lips pulled into a frown. “I have to be.”

His words hurt you, but you know you shouldn’t push it further. Not with his eyes glassy and his chin twitching.

“You don’t,” you say softly. “Come home.”

Tom hums. His eyes are like two diamonds, holding the weight of the world, of a life so recklessly lived. His gaze skitters across your phone, and he arches a brow when he sees you stifle a yawn. “Goodnight, darling.”

You wish you could hold him, or touch him. You wish you could get anything more than the static and the empty bed.

“Night, Tom,” you whisper. “Sweet dreams.”

“Sweet dreams to you too, baby.” Tom puckers up his lips and blows you a kiss. You return it, lips tweaking into a soft smile. “Love you more than anything.”

Your voice feels thick as you echo the sentiments. “Talk tomorrow,” you murmur, tired. “Love you.”

“Bye, bye, bye.”

You’re the one to disconnect, unable to take the imminent heartache that comes with being the last to say goodbye. Tom fades, and you let your phone fall over.

The pain returns, pressing into your heart. It’s raw and cold, and it makes you shiver. A few tears soak into the pillow that smells of him, cool against your hairline.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You wake up the next morning, slowly at first, then all at once.

It’s light in your bedroom. Your sleepy mind wonders if you’d forgotten to draw the curtains when you’d crashed out last night. As you bemoan the bright light that hurts your closed eyes, you slowly twitch awake. Feeling an ache in your arm, you try to move, only to find something rendering you incapacitated. You frown in your tired haze, trying again to move, just to stay exactly where you are again. Your brows furrow next, and you slowly rouse to consciousness as you try to work out what’s going on.

Your heart rate spikes as you realise there are two arms wrapped around you. Warmth envelops you, pressing into your back, your legs, your waist. You jerk awake, panicking for a moment before you feel his lips on your shoulder, and smell the familiar scent of him.

“Shh, darling. It’s me.”

Immediately, you roll over, twisting in his arms until you’re looking at him. His eyes are soft, hair a mess, and he offers you the gentlest smile you’ve ever seen.

“Tom?!” you exclaim, voice catching in the back of your throat. “H-How— but—?”

Both of Tom’s hands go to your cheeks, and he pulls you in for a blinding morning kiss. You sigh as warmth fills every part of you, his lips washing away the angst and the sadness you’d felt just hours earlier. You moan into it, a soft rumble, and curl into him. As you run your hands over his bare form, you appreciate how his muscles are firm and supple beneath your fingertips. You map him out attentively, touch dipping into the shades of his muscles as you try to imprint him to your memory again.

When Tom breaks the kiss, he presses his lips to the tip of your nose. As his warm breath fans out across your face, he stares at you, eyes gentle. Keeping one hand on your cheek, Tom lets the other drift down. When he reaches your neck, he tugs at the chain you keep looped around your throat, his nimble fingers going to play with the ring on the end, still there, hanging between you.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he says slowly. He pulls on the chain and brings you in nearer, kissing you again, softly. “We said goodnight, and...”

Your hands are in his hair, gently stroking the mane from his face. It’s longer now, thicker and brighter than before. You push it away and look at his features. The bruises don’t seem as pronounced now, and you think he must’ve spent time in the sun. Light freckles dust the bridge of his nose, slanted and wonky but perfect nonetheless.

“Hmm?”

Tom licks his lips. “I couldn’t stay away any longer. I left it all to Haz.” Again, he steals your lips in a kiss. He follows up the action with several more, light dustings in quick succession. He tastes minty, and you wonder how long he’s been cuddling you. “I don’t care if we lose Manchester. I don’t care if we lose everything.” He swallows seriously. “I can’t lose you.”

“You were never going to lose me,” you whisper. You brush your thumb across his unscarred cheekbone. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“But I missed you,” Tom whines. He drops his face, lips drifting down to suckle at the base of your neck. You giggle as he leaves tickling kisses all over your skin, mouthing at all the spots that make you laugh until he’s found his way up to your lips. With a hand on your jaw, fingers on your chin, he guides your face to look at him. “Time away gave me a lot of time to think,” he adds, voice drifting lower. A shadow of a doubt passes over his face. “I spent a long time pondering.”

“Yeah?” If he wasn’t holding you so tightly, you’d be concerned. Instead, you continue to muss your thumb across his cheekbone, gazing at him adoringly. “What were you thinking about?”

“Hmm. Well…” Tom lies back, sitting up with his elbow digging into the pillow as he turns to rest on his side. You mirror his position, stretching out your legs beneath the covers as a small yawn slips past you. “I realised that you’re the only person who makes a nice cup of tea. Even I can’t make one as well as you.”

You smile softly. “Don’t let Harrison hear that.”

He chuckles. “He’d be a bitch about it.” Tom’s eyes slide over your figure, gaze soft. You hum in quiet agreement, and he sucks in another breath. “I realised that no one else loves my friends like you do, and the same with my family.” Tom reaches out, hand slithering beneath the duvet until he finds your waist. His fingers are smooth, without the jewelry that usually adorns them. His calloused fingertips roll across your hip, and everything about the moment feels bare and authentic. “I love you now, and I know that I’ll love you forever.”

Something inside your chest clicks, and you find yourself looking at him a little differently.

“Where’s this all coming from?” you ask, looking at him, eyes wide.

“My heart.” Tom pulls you a little closer, and you think you see him swallow nervously. “C’mere, angel.” He turns and lays on his back, gently coaxing you to straddle him.

You settle over him, laying on top of his bare chest. He’s in boxers, and they rub up against your shorts as you shift around on top of him. Tom’s hair presses into the white pillow, wild and messy, but not unlike a halo. With the late morning sun highlighting his worn face with golden stripes, he looks ethereal.

“Darling,” he murmurs. “Gimme a kiss.”

You bend over, and Tom greets you with a warm open-mouthed kiss. He doesn’t seem to care that you’re tired and groggy as he reaches out to cup your cheek, the other hand resting on your hip. You smile against his lips as his fingertips dip beneath the material of your shirt, rubbing light circles to your flesh as you sit up eagerly and press back in. His kisses feel like droplets of fire, setting off small chain reactions with each press of his lips to yours.

When you pull back to admire him, the chain around your neck goes swinging. Your eyes widen as you hear the thump of heavy metal colliding with Tom’s chin, followed by his soft grunt.

“Oh,” you exclaim, immediately feeling your face fall. “I’m sorry, baby. I always forget about the ring on the end.” You bend over to kiss his chin, then sit up straighter, hands absently travelling along the chain. The metal feels familiar beneath your fingertips, and you sigh softly. “I haven’t taken it off since you left,” you admit. “It was nice feeling connected to you, and the ring you left—”

The words die in the back of your throat when you reach for the ring and feel two instead of one, looped side by side on the chain. Confusion twitches across your face as you look down and inspect the piece of jewelry.

Tom’s ring is still on the chain, silver and bold, but sitting beside it is a dantier ring, the band thinner. It lacks the brash family crest that Tom’s harbours so proudly, and has a diamond as its centrepiece. Your fingers go to it immediately, and you find yourself trembling as you pull it closer to your face, inspecting the perfect cut of the sparkling diamond. It’s a large jewel, but it isn’t too flashy, and the ornate twisting of the band is beautiful.

You look back to Tom, who’s watching you with his lower lip pulled between his teeth. Nerves shadow every one of his features, and it’s such a rare look on him that it takes you off guard.

“Angel,” he says slowly, reaching out to take one of your hands. “I love you. I want us to spend the rest of our lives together… I want to grow old with you by my side, and wake up to you each morning. I want to watch our kids muck around in the back garden, and I know… I know I’m not supposed to want these things. I don’t deserve them, and I’m being incredibly selfish even having you here with me right now, but I love you, and nothing will ever change that.” Tom squeezes your hand. “You’re the only woman in the world that I’d ever be able to love like this, and it would be the greatest honour of my life if you married me.”

You’re quiet for a few moments, processing his words. Entranced, you shake off his hand and reach up, tugging off the chain that hangs so heavily from your neck. You unpick the clasp and the necklace falls open, depositing both of the rings into the palm of your hand. They sit there, side by side, and you feel a tear skate down your cheek.

“Tom,” you say, voice thick with tears. “I’d love to marry you.”

The rings press into your palm as he hurries up to kiss you, smiling against yours lips. Tom’s nose nuzzles against yours, and when he pulls back, you see his eyes are red too.

“Thank fuck,” he murmurs. “I was so worried for a second that you were going to say no.”

Your laugh is light and vibrant, and you hold out your hand for Tom to pick up the engagement ring. As he slides the engagement band up your finger, you take his ring, chunky and heavy, and tenderly press it up his finger, joining it with his fourth finger instead of his index. You bend over to kiss the rise of his knuckles, then pull back as you feel him do the same to yours. Through blurry eyes, you bring your hand towards you and admire the gem as it sparkles there.

“In what world would I ever say no to this?” you muse, after a few moments. “I want to be with you forever, Tom. You know that.” Tom’s still looking at his ring, at where it joins at his knuckle, but he glances up when you drift nearer. “I came off birth control.”

His eyes darken slightly. “I know.”

You hold his face in his hands. “You’re silly,” you say. You peck his cheek. “I need to brush my teeth,” you decide. You know exactly where this is going, and you want it to be perfect.

Tom pouts, but he helps you up from his lap. He watches you walk across the room, and his gaze stays on you as you keep the door to the en-suite open and start to brush your teeth. “Miss you, darling,” he calls out. You roll your eyes, but your heart beats a little faster. “You look ethereal.”

When you’re finished in the bathroom, you hurry back to bed. You find your way back into Tom’s lap, sinking into him to share a fresh kiss. “Tell me more about what you want with me,” you continue, voice darker.

With a determined smirk on his lips, Tom flips you. You release a huff of air as you find yourself laying on the mattress, head on the pillow, with him suspended above you. He plants a forearm on either side of your head and gazes down at you fondly.

“I want to settle down with you,” he says slowly. “Maybe start to divide my assets, give a little bit more power to Haz. I want to focus on you.” He pecks your lips before continuing. “I want to watch your gallery grow into the most successful place in London, and I want to be by your side at every opening. I want a big white wedding, with the cake, and the confetti, and the best honeymoon that’s ever been had. I am going to spoil you rotten.”

“You already do a very good job of that.”

“I’ll kick it up a level. I’ll have to. You’ll be my wife.” Tom’s face darkens. His hand shifts down to rest over your lower stomach. “We’ll need to wait for a lot of those things to happen, but there’s one thing that I want that we can start working on right now.”

Your mouth goes dry, and you feel the space between your legs throb. You tilt your head to the side as you stare up at his handsome face. “And what would that be?”

“Our heirs, darling.” He smirks when you whimper, warm fingers dipping beneath your shirt until he’s able to touch the flesh of your belly more directly. “I’m gonna fill you up with my babies, angel. Fuck you really good. ‘M gonna keep cumming until you’re full of me, then fuck you full again.”

You moan as he drops his face to your ear, suckling hard marks against your skin. “Fuck,” you murmur, burying your hands in his hair. “That sounds so obscene.”

“Yeah, but you like it, don’t you? You’re my dirty little thing, hm?” Tom bites at your neck, teeth nipping you and making you shiver. “I know you want me to cum in you so much that it drips down your thighs for hours after I’m gone. You want me to make a mess of your pretty cunt.”

“Please, Tom,” you whimper. You feel hot and bothered already.

“Eager, darling?” Tom sits back and gently reaches for the hem of your pyjama top. You bring your hands above your head as he gently tugs it up your arms, throwing it off to the side without thought. He crawls back over you and seizes your breasts in his hands, his metallic ring like a cool shock against your skin. When he nibbles at your nipple and follows up the action with a lap of his tongue, you whimper.

“Don’t be a tease,” you beg, squeezing your thighs together. “I need you, Tom. Haven’t been with you in so long.”

He looks up at you, tit held between his lips. Tom winks as he gives the bud a noisy suck, then pulls back to address the other. He keeps his thumbs busy, and as he moves away his mouth, he replaces his touch with the pad of his fingers, swirling his spit around your skin with ease.

“There’s no rush,” he announces. He keeps his hands on your breasts, kneading softly and stimulating your nipples as he knows you like, but his mouth starts to move. Tom trails light kisses down your form, keeping his eyes on yours. He observes you through darkened eyes. “Don’t whinge,” he adds, the tips of his teeth sparkling ravenously. “I’m going to fuck you so well you’ll cry, but not yet. Let me enjoy this.”

His promise makes you squirm, and Tom takes advantage of the fact your hips are off the bed and tugs your shorts and panties down your legs in one fell swoop. As you part your legs, you invite him closer, biting back a frown as Tom settles between your thighs but pays your legs attention instead of your centre. Your folds are slick already—you can feel them wet, hot, pulsing with more urgency the longer you spend watching your boyfriend’s muscles flex as he draws his lips across your figure.

Tom teases you, drawing out the moment until you’re quivering. His lips draw down to your shins, his whole body sliding down the bed until he’s just out of reach. You lean back against the pillow and try to enjoy it, revelling in the warmth that he dusts across your bare skin with each small kiss. Tom traces love hearts up your legs with his fingertips, drawing large ones over each one of your knees before tracing over the outline with his tongue. As his spittle cools over your skin, Tom finally parts your thighs.

“Such a pretty sight,” he moans, taking a moment to admire your glistening cunt. You think he’s going to dive straight in, but then he smirks, and you know that was just wishful thinking. Instead, Tom nuzzles his nose against the soft flesh of your inner thigh and goes back to kissing.

He’s needier now, moving with fervour. Sucking harshly, you know he’s marking your inner thighs, drawing an arrow towards your centre with a line of bruises. He delineates his journey, marking out the precise route he needs to take up to your sweet lips as if leaving instructions.

“Tom, please,” you moan. He’s so close to you that you can feel his hot breath coming out across you. He looks up at you and throws out a wild grin, his eyes bright and his smirk as bold as ever. “Please stop teasing me.”

He hums softly. “Okay, my darling,” Tom murmurs. You release a deep sigh of relief. “But only because I can’t go another second without tasting my pussy…” His thumbs gently move along your petals, light with his touch and teasing you until your cunt clenches around nothing. “You don’t mind if I’m a little rough, do you, angel?” He blinks up at you innocently. “I tend to get a little bit lost in you, but you know that by now, don’t you?”

“It’s okay,” you say. “Give me anything… ‘m aching for you.”

Tom’s devilish smirk makes you wonder if giving him complete control was a good idea, but the thought goes flying from your mind as he nuzzles his face closer and finally indulges himself. Moaning loudly as he tastes you, his lips gradually envelop your clit, hot tongue lightly glancing off the engorged rise of the bud as you cry out. He’s wet with you, letting his tongue make your slit all messy.

Tom brings two slender fingers to your lips and parts them in a V. His nose brushes up against your clit as he slowly moves down. As the thick muscle of his tongue presses against your dewy entrance, he emits a low-pitched moan.

“God, darling,” he purrs. “Tastes even sweeter than usual.” As the vibrations of his words thrum over your cunt, you shiver and grab at his hair. One of Tom’s hands grabs at your inner thigh, pushing it up and opening you wider until he’s able to move deeper. You gasp as both of his thumbs shift down to hold your lips apart, tender petals parting easily.

As Tom slides his tongue into you, your eyes roll back in your head. You squirm against the sheets as wetness drips between your cheeks, a mix of your heat and his spit as Tom devours you. He moans against you, dragging his tongue against your tender walls. The sensations of his smooth muscle twisting against your sensitive pussy makes you shiver, and when he adds a thumb to your clit, you cry out loudly.

“Tom, oh fuck.”

He traces around your bud with a light finger, teasing the edge of the bud with his fingernail. Impatient and needy, you rut down against him, a choked sob bubbling up in the back of your throat. Your chest is heaving, your nipples perked and erect, and your fingers shake as you hold him to your heat. Tom seems to go deeper with each thrust of his tongue, moaning as he makes you messy, leaving no part of you untouched.

You call out a quiet warning, blind with lust and on the verge of tears. “‘M gonna cum,” you mewl. “Feels too good.”

He hums aggressively against you and dives deeper with his tongue, touching your clit until you peak. The feeling of your walls clenching and contracting against his face makes you whine, rutting down against him as you ride it out. Tom takes it, stays pliant as you grind onto his tongue, continuing to stimulate your passage until your back arches from the bed and you break into a hot sweat. When Tom pulls back, he’s quick to replace his tongue with two fingers, and the moan you release is garbled and excessive.

“T-Tom,” you cry out. He curls his index and middle finger into you with ease, his fourth dropping down to rest between your cheeks. You can feel the metal of his heavy silver ring, cool against your skin. “S’too much.”

He finally looks up at you after an eternity admiring your heat. His eyes are wide and feral, his chin coated in your juices. You whimper as you see streaks of white cum clinging to the early morning shadow of his chin. Tom grins inquisitively as he thrusts his fingers faster, your heat so slick and open that the movement draws out loud noises.

“I don’t think it’s too much, darling,” he mumbles. “I think you’re being my good girl, hm? We’ve barely started.” He drops his lips and nuzzles further between your legs, looking up at you with your clit held loosely in his mouth. He gently laps across the rise before releasing it and pressing a light kiss to the engorged bud. “I’m going to make you cum so much you forget your name, lovie. Gonna show you how much I appreciate you today and for every other day of our lives.”

You like the sound of that, and your cunt throbs persistently as Tom curves his fingers up and his fingertips brush against your ridged g-spot. As your hips threaten to spasm from the bed again, Tom sits up and shifts his arm, so it weighs down your lower stomach. “More,” you decide, hearing your heat prickle as Tom speeds up his fingers.

He adds his ring finger, and you cry out as the smooth band of metal presses up against your entrance. The contrast of cold against the ravaging fire of your hole is almost orgasmic in itself.

“Pretty little pussy,” he muses. “Need to stretch you out for my cock, da’ling. Haven’t taken me in so long, I don’t want to hurt you when I stuff you full.”

You’re so wet. You can feel the flat of Tom’s hand coated in your arousal, hear your heat as he fucks you. You try to pay attention to him, but you find yourself slipping when he drops his lips back to your bud and starts to suck on it. As Tom traces incessant circles over your clit, he alternates between long laps of his tongue and more focused kitten licks. Your desperate fingers curl around the silky sheets as you recognise that he knows your cunt well, and he’s learnt the right angle and depth that he needs to travel to in order to get you to the edge. He’s persistent and ruthless in the pursuit of his objective.

You peak for the second time as he curls his fingertips up against your tender g-spot, moaning around your clit under you’re crying out. Your eyes burn with tears as you call out his name, voice clouded by curse words and desperate sounds of enjoyment. You’re loud, thrashing in the sheets until he has to reach up and press you into place, not moving as he continues to stimulate you through it. It feels unending—an eternal tunnel of throbbing pleasure, your cunt squeezing his digits until it’s almost too much.

When you grow too sensitive, you tell him as much, and Tom pulls back to reach blindly for your hand. He finds it, then separates from your mound. His fingers slowly slip from your aching cunt, causing you to gasp, but he softens it out by kissing over the knuckles of your other hand, then your lower stomach.

“Perfect, angel,” he coos. Tom pushes your legs shut again, being careful not to hurt you as he crawls on top of you. He squeezes your hand as he continues to kiss all over your stomach, hips and chest, retracing his tracks from earlier until he finds your nipples. You moan as he laps at both of them messily before moving up to your face and kissing you intensely. His tongue tastes of your juices, your arousal sticking to his tongue. The tangy hue sticks to your own mouth, and you moan as you taste it.

“God, I love kissing you,” he murmurs against you, voice rumbling into you. Tom gasps your face with his clean hand, holding you tightly. “Could do this for the rest of my life.”

You’re hungry as you chase him, body tired but craving more. As Tom starts to roll his hips against yours, the press of his length to your centre makes you excited.

“I can taste myself on your tongue,” you admit. The blend of you and him makes you feel ravenous.

“Really?” Tom sits up, his face flickering with enjoyment as you start to grind up against his hips. He circles his waist against yours, both of you enjoying the little pleasure until you find the capacity to nod. “You’re nice, aren’t you?”

You lick your lips, watching the way he stares at you. “Yeah,” you say. “Tastes of you, too.”

Tom reaches up, and with the hand still covered in your juices, he feeds three fingers into your mouth. You moan around them as he imitates thrusting motions, smearing your cum over your tongue. There’s a metallic twang as he pushes deeper, his ring brushing up against the tip of your tongue as he fucks towards your throat. The taste makes you shiver.

“There you go, clean me up,” he coaxes. He presses a soft kiss to the tip of your nose before hovering above you. Tom’s eyes, dark and hungry, shift down to your lips, and he raises a brow. “Such a pretty mouth. Wish I had time to fuck it, too, but shit… I need to be in you, darling.”

When he pulls his fingers from your mouth, you feel empty. Your tongue is light—too light. A pout settles over your lips.

“Why are you frowning?” Tom adds as he sits back on his shins. You sit up a little straighter, strength regained as you watch him move around and shed his boxers. You almost moan as you watch his cock spring free, tall and flushed red. You’ve missed it. You’ve missed him.

“Feel empty without you,” you respond.

Tom slides over you again, and you part your legs. With ease, he slots himself between your thighs, his throbbing crown resting against your clit as your wet lips envelop the rest of his member.

“Well, you’re going to be very full soon,” he murmurs, looking up to kiss your jaw. He waits above your lips, quirking a brow. “Open, then, if you’re so needy.”

Your teeth catch your gnawed lower lip before you follow instruction, opening your mouth for him. Tom presses one of his hands against your shoulder as he leans up. He rests a thumb to your chin and looks down at you, eyes glimmering with mischievousness as he puckers his lips and hums. A moment later, Tom spits into your mouth, his dirty spittle falling onto your tongue. He groans at the sight, and you reach up to grab at his broad shoulders as the heat of the possessiveness rolls over you. Tom chases his action with a deep kiss, his fingers rolling back down to pull up your thigh and open you for him.

As he enters you, it’s a smooth movement. Everything flows together—your tongues, your bodies, your hearts. Tom’s able to guide himself inside you almost seamlessly, and you’re so aroused already that the stretch is comfortable.

“Fuck,” you gasp, falling back from his lips.

“Oh, god,” Tom groans. “That’s it. Fuck yeah.” He kisses you again as he slowly pulls out, sliding back into you with ease. His lips are hot as they rest on yours, unmoving as he gets lost in the pleasure.

“You’re so big,” you whimper, eyes rolling back as he continues to thrust into you. Tom’s building it up slowly, rutting deeply against your heat as his member explores your walls. It’s a little clumsy before he establishes a rhythm, his groove coming back after a few weeks apart, but when he gets it right, it feels otherworldly.

“You’re gorgeous,” he says, dropping his face against your shoulder. You bury your hands in his hair, fingers tensing around his strands when he bites at your skin. “Love of my life,” he coos. “Love this pussy more than life itself. Love you more than anything.”

Overwhelmed, you hum, the sound twisting into a gasp as he grinds against you and the crown of his flushed length hits your sensitive spot. “God, yeah,” you agree. “Feels so good, Tom. Go deeper.”

He obliges you for a few moments before his rhythm fades, and he stills with his cock stuffed deep within you. Your fingers play with his hair as you feel him kiss your shoulder, then follow up the action with a lap of his tongue.

“I want you on top, darling,” Tom grunts, words smearing against your neck. He’s panting, hot breath making your skin wet. “Need to see my beautiful wife.” You clench around him, and you feel him chuckle into your shoulder.  “C’mere,” he coaxes. “I’ll help you up.”

It’s dizzying to readjust, but as soon as you’ve taken your place in Tom’s lap, you feel better. You’re impossibly close, able to watch his face constrict with pleasure every time you lower yourself on him. He’s got his head thrown back against the headboard, half-closed eyes watching you, ringed-fingers digging into your hips.

“Tom,” you whimper. “Feels so good.” Your eyes are rolling back, your body trembling as he helps you move. With each bounce down, Tom ruts his hips up to meet you, and when you shift slightly to the side and lean forward, his tip brushes up against your spot. Arcs of electricity zing through your centre, adding layers to your enjoyment.

“The way that you look right now should be breaking the law,” he says, voice held tight. Tom grabs one of your tits in his palm, roughened thumb toying with the nipple until you squirm. “You’re stunning, angel. All mine…” he drops down to kiss at the base of your neck. “Mine forever.”

“Y-Yeah, ‘m yours,” you stammer, voice hitching as his index finger trails back down to your bud. It knocks you off balance how quickly your third high threatens to surge across you.

Tom sees it on your face, growls as he feels you clench around him. “Come on, darling. Give me another one.” His greedy fingers continue to move your hips as the others play around with your clit. The bud tingles, stimulated beyond anything you’ve felt before, but the ache makes it better. “Always the prettiest when you cum, angel. Make the prettiest sounds too. Go on, my love. Let me hear you sing for me.”

It takes a few moments for you to peak, and when you do, you go loose in Tom’s arms. It ripples over you like a blur, your limbs feeling equal parts boneless and taut. Everything fades, pulled back to the bare primal motions of orgasm, warmth spreading through your entire body until it consumes you.

No sooner have you finished your release does Tom scoop you up in his arms and press you back against the mattress. He continues to drill into you, moving roughly against you, grinding his hips into you. Both of you are sweaty, and the space between your legs is sticky from all the aroused fluids that you’ve released, but he doesn’t care. He buries himself in your heat, losing himself in the feelings as you claw at his back, unable to comprehend the pleasures of overstimulation on a scale as intense as this.

“You’re okay, yeah?” Tom says, pulling away from your neck to stare at you. You’re slack-jawed and panting, but you nod. He likes to push you, and you like being stretched to your limits, but he never does it cruelly. He’s always attentive as he picks you apart, slowly breaking you open until you’re shattered into pieces that only he can reassemble. There’s love behind everything he does with you.

“Yeah,” you manage, voice broken. Hot tears of enjoyment pool in your eyes, a muffled groan leaving you when Tom reaches for your thigh and tugs it open roughly. You curl your leg around his back, allowing him in completely, and as you gain that familiar friction back against your g-spot, you melt against the sheets.

“You know what I’m going to do, angel?” Tom grunts. He’s heavy on top of you, body a blur as he fucks you harder, faster, deeper. “I’m going to get your initials tattooed on my ring finger, so you’re there even without the ring.” He stares down at your face, love swirling in his frenzied eyes. “I’m going to—fuck, I’m gonna fuck you so good for the rest of your life, darling. I promise you that. Yeah.” He nuzzles at your cheek, hot breath panting across your skin as he drops his voice to a gritty whisper. “I’m gonna love you, cherish you, fucking adore you… Gonna put a baby in you.”

“Holy shit,” you mutter.

Tom slows his thrusts, his hips stammering in a way suggestive of the way he’s near a peak and wants to put it off. With an intensity that you’ve never seen before, he reaches down, balancing on his strong arms until he’s able to rest his hot palm against your lower stomach. He presses against your skin as he thrusts into you a few more times, slowing but burying himself deeper.

“Can you feel me?” he says. “I’m in so deep, darling. I can feel everything. Such a wet pussy. So greedy.”

“Yeah,” you whimper. “You’re so big, T. I can’t think about anything else.”

“Mmm, good, ‘cos you’re the only thing I’m thinking about right now.” He dances his fingers across the soft skin of your stomach, contrasting the gentleness as he drops his head to the crook of your neck and nips at your skin. “Can’t wait to fill you up,” he admits roughly. “Thought about it every night I was away.”

“Yeah?” You brush your hands through his sweaty hair, tugging as he drives a little deeper.

“Fuck yeah, baby. Go on, touch your clit.” Tom waits until you’ve done as instructed to continue with his musings. “Thought about how you’ll look, belly all swollen with my cum. I love those pretty whimpers you make when I pull out, and my seed pours down your thighs. Can’t wait to fuck it back into you until you’re crying.”

“—oh god,” you whine.

“Mm, yeah. I felt you clench then, darling. I know how much you like the idea of taking fuckin’ everything I give you.” Tom presses firmer against your lower stomach, accompanying the action with a particularly hard rut. “You’re gonna feel me here, lovie, right in your womb. Gonna stuff you to the fucking brim until there’s no chance you aren’t pregnant. Gonna fill you with my babies, give us the heirs we both deserve.”

“Please,” you beg, voice broken. It’s overwhelming in the best way, your bud rebelling as you toy with it. But you’re persistent, matching the deep rolls of Tom’s hips as you feel another climax stir in the pit of your stomach. Everything feels so fluid and wet that it’s hard to tell where you stop, and Tom begins. He’s tangled up so completely in you that he has become part of your existence. “Please, Tom, I want it.”

“What do you want?” Tom teases. He’s a devil, looks up to smirk at you. You can feel how badly he wants to snap into release just from the way he’s controlling his thrusts, but he isn’t going to cave until he gets exactly what he wants. “Use your words, gorgeous girl. I know you can do it.”

He’s in so close, lips on your cheeks, chin, nose, and lips. His heat envelopes you, clouding your brain. With each nudge of his tip deeper against your walls, you get closer to losing it, clinging to the firm muscles of his back like it’s your only lifeline.

“Give me it all,” you choke out. “I want it, Tom, deep in me. Want you to fill me up with your cum.” His curls are sweaty as you reach up to fist your trembling hands in them, entirely at his mercy. “Wanna feel you lose yourself in me.”

“Mmm, okay, baby,” he groans. His voice is broken, thick and tired from exertion. He kisses you roughly, all tongue and teeth, the noisy meshing sounds of your lips mingling with the chaos of his hips slapping down against yours. “Oh fuck,” he pulls away to say. “Oh fuck. Oh—”

With a heavy grunt, Tom finally spills. He releases a loud groan, hips snapping forwards with an animalistic force as he drives his cock deeper, shaft pulsing as your walls squeeze around him. You cry out, cumming for the fourth time. Your climax feels like the main attraction, as if every other orgasm has merely been part of the buildup. You push up against him, breasts pressing into Tom’s chest as your eyes screw shut, tears cascading down your cheeks as pleasure burns through you. His name pours past your lips like a prayer until it’s all that you know, all that you care to know.

It ends, and you’re trembling. Intense aftershocks rock through you, and you feel Tom kiss all over your cheeks as he coos soft words of endearment into your ear. His lips become wet, and you realise that blissful tears have skated down your face.

“Lovely girl... Best girl…” He’s gentle, tender. You jump, opening your eyes suddenly as Tom slips from you, causing your aching walls to spasm. He looks up at you, lifting a questioning brow as he reaches down towards your clit. “Finished?” he asks. When his fingertips lightly make contact with your bud, you wince. Everywhere aches, and it’s nice, but it’s enough.

“Definitely finished,” you choke out.

“Okay, okay… sorry, love.” Tom gently pulls back, flashing you an apologetic smile as he kisses your inner thigh. He shuffles around, eyeing the sight of his cum leaking from your hole, and you watch him shudder. “Fuck….” You can feel it slowly dripping from your entrance and clench your walls just to see his reaction. Tom groans, chewing his lips and continuing to stare until you shiver. He smoothes a hand over your thigh. “Sweet thing,” he whispers. “I’ll bring you some water.”

It only feels like he’s gone for a second, and you realise you’re drifting, ecstatic and loose-limbed. Tom is suddenly behind you, delicately hauling you into his arms. He sits against the headboard and pulls you into a tight hug from behind, kissing over your shoulders as you whimper softly. You can feel the soft fabric of his sweats as he settles you in his lap.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs. He presses a glass of water into your hand and helps you take a sip. As the cool liquid soothes your throat, you relax into his hold. “Love you, love you… Love you so much.”

He’s so warm against you, holding you tight. Your eyes still feel wet.

“Love you too,” you say. Tom takes the glass from your hand and puts it down on the bedside table, and you turn in his arms to kiss him. Your lips feel puffy and sore, but the ache is worth the relief of feeling your fiancé’s mouth gently press to yours. You sigh as the tension leaves your shoulders, draining away as he loves you, and holds you.

“Am gonna clean you up, now,” Tom mumbles, voice soft. You look at him, curious until you feel a warm cloth pressing against your thighs. You part your legs, turning back in his arms and snuggling further into his grasp as he delicately runs the material over your centre. “Sorry, darling,” he says as you wince. He’s so gentle, but it still aches in a way that hurts.

“What time is it?” you ask, mind running slow.

Tom throws the cloth aside, then reaches out and grabs one of the thick furs that sits on top of your bed. “3pm.”

Your eyes widen. “What?” you murmur, brows creasing. “What time did we wake up?”

“Around midday.”

“Wow.” You smile softly as Tom tucks you both in, covering your shivering form with the blanket. You reach up, leaving your left arm above the fur and reaching out to take Tom’s hand. “Time flies when you’re having fun.”

He laughs and tangles your hands together. Tom’s palm is warm against yours, and his other hand curves around to fiddle with your new ring.

“Indeed it does, darling,” he coos. “I had a lot of fun. Did you?”

“Always.”

You watch him play with your ring for a while, his lips moving over your sweaty neck. You’re still hot and exhausted, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He holds you tight all the same, not caring that you’re messy and still quivering from the aftershocks. Soft sentences of adoration pour from his lips as he holds you.

“After this,” Tom says, voice slow, “I thought we could have a nice bath… maybe drink some champagne, have some dinner… then I want to hear everything you’ve been up to for the last month, and maybe we can celebrate some more.”

You nod softly. Turning in his arms, you sit up to face him properly, dragging the large blanket with you and draping it over you both as you straddle his lap and rest your arms over his shoulders. The bruising is still on Tom’s face, but he looks more handsome than you’ve ever seen him before. There’s a golden glow to his face, a certain lightness that you’ve never seen before. You reach down and take his hand, bringing it to your lips and ghosting your mouth over his ring.

“I love you so much,” you say, looking up at him from behind his hand. His smile is like the sunrise. “Thank you for everything you do for me.”

“Oh, darling.” Tom pauses to kiss you, smiling against your lips. “Don’t you know the pleasure is all mine?”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

will i burn for this ? perhaps. but it’s worth it. thank u to my lord and saviour mr mob!tsh... i love u.

lmk what you think......? +++ if you want to see any more specific scenes from my mob!tom x reader universe?? any other milestones you’d like to see? lmk! <3

mlist + taglist are through the link in my bio <3

thank you for reading!! <3<3

#tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader smut #mob!tom smut #mob!tom #mob!tom holland smut #mob!tomfic #smut

[chaoticpuff17]

Suga We’re Going Down

part 24

masterlist

Hello my darlings! Sorry it’s been a while. Life has been crazy. Health has been bad, but hopefully I’m on the mend!--- chaotic puff

Yoongi was reeling. Pregnant. Y/N was pregnant. It was everything he could hope for, and yet she didn’t even want to see him. She was with him instead, but she couldn’t hide forever. Eun Jae’s party was that afternoon, and he knew she wouldn’t make their son miss his party. Halmeoni wouldn’t allow it either. Too much work had gone into it, and it was too late to cancel the event. 

They could talk about the pregnancy then, or perhaps after would be better? A children’s birthday party might not be the best setting to discuss how they were going to handle preparations for their new child. It was definitely time for them to move to the house though. It would be better for Eun Jae and the baby to have more space and a yard to play in. 

“Yoongi-ah!” 

Yoongi was pulled out of  his thoughts as he was engulfed in a warm hug, the scent of an achingly familiar perfume clogging his nostrils as he stepped into the foyer of his building. 

“Eomonie.” he greeted, returning her embrace. He’d almost forgotten that she was coming for the party. She’d been dying to meet Y/N and Eun Jae for a while now. “How was the train? Was everything alright?” 

She waved him off as she pulled back, straightening his clothes. “Fine. Fine. Now where is this young lady I’ve heard so much about? And my new grandson?” 

“She’s gone to her grandmother’s to set up for the party. We’ll meet them there later.” 

His mother pouted, dragging him towards the elevator allowing him to take her bag for her. “I was hoping to see them.” 

“You will this afternoon.” he assured her. 

“I brought a gift for Eun Jae. I wasn’t sure what he’d like, but you liked cars at that age so I thought a police car would be a safe option.” 

“I’m sure he’ll love it. I go thim a fire truck.” 

She exclaimed happily, clapping her hands together. “Perfect! He’ll have his own little emergency team!” Yoongi smiled at her indulgently. It wasn’t every day she got to spoil someone, and she’d been waiting for a grandbaby for a long time. “I wanted to bring something for Y/N as well, but I wasn’t sure what she’d like, so I thought we could go shopping together while I was here. You’re sure her grandmother is alright with my being here?” 

He nodded. “She seemed happy to have you.” 

Kang Ha Won was no less eager to meet his mother than his mother was to meet Y/N and her family. Eun Jae’s birthday had given both of them the perfect opportunity to get together. 

They’d be planning a wedding before the party was over if his assumptions were correct. They’d have them both down the aisle by the end of the week if they knew about the pregnancy. 

“What time should we be there? Do they need any help setting up?” 

Tempted as he was to say yes and go early, he doubted that Halmeoni needed any help. She was rather protective of her restaurant. It was holy ground, and he didn’t think she’d appreciate any last minute input on her party planning, input he was sure his mother would give if they went over now. “I think Y/N and Ha Won-ssi have it under control.” And soon he’d have things back under control too. 

----

The setup was under control. The problem was Taehyung’s presence during said setup. 

There had been yelling. There had been a wooden spoon waved around with the intention to drive out the invader, and then there had been a stony silence as the two women worked to finish the last of the cooking and get everything ready before the guests arrived. 

“I can’t believe you brought him here.” her grandmother huffed, setting out a plate of bungeoppang. 

“He wants to get to know his son.” Y/N’s voice was soft, demure as she tried to avoid another argument. 

“Jae-ah is not his son.” 

“Biologically speaking he is.” 

“Where was he the past three years? Hmm?” 

She didn’t really have an answer for that one, at least not an answer that her grandmother would accept. Her dislike of Taehyung went back years and well before Eun Jae was born. No excuse that either she or Taehyung could give would not be sufficient for her, and Y/N couldn’t tell her the real reason that Taehyung was with her now, so they would have to suffer the older woman’s ire in silence, something Taehyung was handling better than she was. 

“Please, Halmeoni. It’s Eun Jae’s birthday. We can talk about this another day.” 

Her grandmother huffed,  marching back to the kitchen without another word. 

“She seems to be taking this well.” Taehyung grinned like a Cheshire cat from where he was playing with Eun Jae who had rather reluctantly allowed Taehyung to join him. 

“Don’t.” she groaned, moving to follow her grandmother. 

“Why don’t you sit. You’ve been on your feet since we got her.” Taehyung stood, pulling out a chair for her. 

“I need to help.” 

“You need to rest.” he cast a pointed look to her belly, reminding her exactly why she should be resting. 

“Eomma!” Eun Jae called, holding out his hand to her. “Come play!” 

She smiled softly, running her hand through his hair. “Eomma has to finish getting ready for your party, buddy.” 

 A little furrow appeared between his eyebrows as he pouted at her. “Can Appa play?” 

Her smile fell slightly, but she fixed her face, keeping up the happy expression even if it looked a little brittle. “Yoongi-ssi isn’t here yet, baby.” 

“Why not? The bad man is here.” 

���We came with Taehyung-ssi. Remember?” 

“I want Appa.” he pouted, slouching in his seat and casting a withering glare at Taehyung. 

Taehyung and Y/N shared a look. 

“Jae-ah,” she sank into the chair next to him, gently ruffling his hair. “We talked about this. You know Yoongi-ssi isn’t your appa.” 

“Yes he is! He’s my appa! He said so!” she closed her eyes and took a deep, fortifying breath against the logic of a three year old. 

“That’s not how it works, baby.” 

She was preparing for the next round of irrational rebuttals when Nina walked through the door distracting the toddler to both of his parent’s relief. 

“Nini!” he cried, jumping down from his seat to give her a hug. “It’s my birthday!” 

“I know! That’s so exciting!” she smiled brightly, scooping up the toddler to spin him around. “Have you had a good birthday?” 

Immediately, he went into a tirade about all the birthday gifts he had gotten so far and about how he had had to spend the night at Taehyung’s and about how his “appa” wasn’t there yet but he would be there soon because he promised to be there. 

To Nina’s credit she took in all the information surprisingly well, but she was used to Eun Jae and his little rants. He tended to get excited and then try to tell whoever he was talking to about what had made him excited at the speed of light. 

“You stayed at Taehyung-ssi’s house last night?” Nina’s smile was frozen on her face rather unnatrually and remained that way as she turned to Y/N to mouth the words “what the fuck”. 

“I don’t like him.” 

Taehyung squeezed her hand comfortingly as she tried to keep her composure knowing that this was not as bad as it was going to get. She doubted Yoongi was going to make the afternoon easy, especially knowing what he knew. 

“I’ll tell you later.” she promised her friend, hoping she would let the subject drop. 

“Why don’t you show me those birthday presents, Jae-ah.” 

“They’re at appa’s house.” he informed her with a dramatic sigh. 

“Y/N-ah!” her grandmother called sharply from the kitchen, signaling it was time to get back to work. 

“Try not to kill each other.” she pleaded, glancing between Nina and Taehyung.

“I make no promises.” Nina smiled sweetly, the expression immediately dropping from her features as soon as she was out of sight. “Jae Jae, why don’t you go see if Eomma and Halmeoni need any help?”

“Okay, Nini!”

All cordiality ceased the moment the little boy disappeared after his mother.

 “What the fuck are you doing here? Why is Y/N staying with you?” 

“Kim Taehyung.” he held out his hand to her. “Have we met before?”

“No, but I’ve heard plenty about you. You’re the ass that knocked up Y/N’s sister.” 

“I see. All good things then.” 

She scoffed, crossing her arms under her chest. “Cut the crap. What are you doing here?” 

“I’ll have you know that I was invited.” 

“Well, I’m telling you you’re not welcome. Y/N must have had some sort of mental breakdown letting you come anywhere near her and Eun Jae, but Yoongi will throw you out on your ass once he gets here if you don’t leave now.” 

“Yoongi.” he hummed thoughtfully. “You mean the man who was paying her to pretend to be in a relationship with him? That Yoongi?” 

Nina pursed her lips, her expression furious. “He’s ten times better for her than you are despite the way they started.” 

“Started?” he tilted his head to the side. “From what she tells me, they’re all business and even that’s over now.” 

“You don’t know anything about them.” 

“And you do?” 

“More than the ass who got her sister pregnant and then dipped.” she bit back. 

“Oh?” he raised a brow, smiling condescendingly. “Then you’re all for Eun Jae calling this man “appa” despite the fact that their relationship has an expiration date? It doesn’t seem like Y/N is.” 

“Who says the relationship is going to expire?” 

“The contract, I believe.” 

“You have no right to judge her.” 

“Oh, I’m not judging her. I’m judging the ass who decided it was alright to brainwash her kid.”

“Yoongi has been nothing but kind to them. He’s done more for them than you ever could.” 

Taehyung shrugged nonchalantly. “But it wasn’t him that she went to in the middle of the night when she needed help was it?” 

Nina’s face heated as she struggled to contain her temper. “Why you…”

“Nini!” Eun Jae cried running back into the room. “Halmeoni says they don’t need help.” 

“You’re an ass.” she hissed to Taehyung as she let Eun Jae drag her upstairs to where the majority of his toys resided, leaving Taehyung alone in the restaurant smug in his ability to rile her up. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Taehyung turned around slowly, a cheshire grin spreading over his features. “Hello, Yoongi.” 

#bts #bts fic #bts fanfic #yandere bts #bts suga #agust d #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #yandere yoongi #suga #yandere suga #suga x reader #yandere #soft yandere #dark romance #suga we're going down

[hemswrld]

Chris Hemsworth fanfic

hey guys, I’m Mak! This is my first fanfic so I hope you enjoy!

⚠️: Fluff, very minor smut

In this fic Chris is not married to Elsa. He is dating you and still has his 3 kids.

You watch the kids and Chris come out of the pool soaking wet. Chris asked with the shy smile “could you get us some towels please?” You hurry and go get 4 towels they’re still waiting outside when you arrive back and you and Chris tightly wrap the three kids in their towels. You then look at Chris still soaking wet so you grab the last dry towel and wrap Chris in it with a big smile. They kids run to their rooms because their mom is coming to pick them up for the week.

Chris always try’s to spend as much time with his kids as possible when he has them. He loves them so much. He’s such a good dad it’s one of the reasons you were so attracted to him because he is always so gentle, sweet, and playful with his kids.

He finally says his goodbye Elsa waves awkwardly bye to you. You and Elsa don’t really have a relationship. You haven’t really sat down and talked to get to really know her you just occasionally see each other.

While Chris and Elsa were going through their divorce you really helped Chris through it all. The divorce was really hard on him and he still loves her and probably will forever love her but it just didn’t work out. After the divorce was final Chris invited you over to talk to you. After that you were still there for him but you definitely notice some chemistry between you two so you gave him space to really process what was happening because rushing into things never works. You would still hang out and be friends but about three months after the divorce things started to get romantic between you two.

You’ve now been dating for six months now. it doesn’t pain him to see her like it used to he’s finally content with what happened. No matter what happens you’re going to be there for Chris because you know he’s going to be there for you. 

After the kids leave he looks at you and happily says “so do you want that local Chinese place we’ve been wanting to try?” You’re both starving for something else other than a peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and juice pouches because that’s all you’ve been having for the past week. 

“Yes please” You say with a laugh. Chris goes over to the counter to his phone and calls and orders the food. He doesn’t need to ask what you want because he already knows that if there’s sushi available you’ll take it.

Chris hangs up looks up at you and says “Do you wanna finish watching that show?” You introduced him to the office you were just casually talking about your favorite shows and he’s never watched it so you’re introducing it to him so far he’s liking it.

You both walk over to the couch and turn on the show. His muscly left the arm gently goes over your shoulder. You hold his hand and scoot closer putting your head on his chest with your feet up on the couch. 

One of Jim’s pranks where he dresses up as Dwight is on and Chris can’t stop laughing. You’ve seen it like 10 times but you laugh along because Chris’s laugh makes you so happy it’s just so adorable. 

Chris makes you feel nothing but peace. You feel so safe around him it’s just one big muscular adorable teddy bear at least that’s what you call him, your adorable big teddy bear.

After he’s done laughing and the episode is coming to a close he turns he tv off and puts both of your finished plates on the coffee table and looks at you. You look at him confused and before you can say anything he smiles and says “I appreciate you.” “What?” You say quickly. “You’ve helped me so much with the kids, with Elsa, that fight with Liam, and just keeping my life in order.”

You sit up on the couch with your hands in your lap. He grabs the side of your face your starting to form tears in your eyes and he follows.

You always have cried together, happy or sad tears. You helping him during his divorce really shaped that comfortableness between you two.

You wipe his tear and he kisses your cheek. “Why are we always so emotional?” You say and you both laugh. He says “There was a time where I wasn’t comfortable crying even by myself you’ve helped me so much U/N”

He puts his hands on your hands holding them comes in close to kiss you. Your lips touch and his opens slightly. You feel his warm breathe on your face. You remove your hands from his to grab his face. He puts one of his hands on your shoulder and the other on your hip.

Now your in a deep passionate kiss. You’ve noticed talking about your feelings and being so open and honest about what’s happening has really improved the sexual aspect of your relationship with Chris.

He removes his lips from yours and looks at you and says quietly “I love you.” You blush while grabbing his face and playing with his hair. “You know what Hemsworth?” You say “hmm?” He says biting his lower lip looking into yours eyes. “I love you more than anything.” Chris looks so shocked but in a obvious sarcastic way. “NO WAY?!” He says so excitedly you just laugh. He puts his hands on his head.

“babe stop acting like you didn’t already know that” You laugh and he joins you. He grabs your face and starts kissing you again you just melt into his body getting on top of him. You start kissing slowly and he starts to very softly moan which makes you smile.

You continue to kiss and play with his hair and suddenly “well well well what is going on here.” You both jump in fright it’s Chris’s friend Bobby you get off of Chris’s lap in disappointment because the moment was ruined. Chris stands up and looks at his friend “what’d I say about knocking?” “Sorry mate but I just came by cause I need some help with my fridge it’s broken.” Bobby explains “Couldn’t you call someone?” You say looking at Chris smiling and shaking your head. “Yeah Chris.” Bobby laughs “no I mean a professional.”



#chris hemsworth #chris hemsworth smut #chris hemsworth fanfiction #thor odinson #thor ragnarok #thor the dark world #thor love and thunder #marvel #marvel studios #avengers #comic books #marvel story #celebrities #celebrity #smut #fanfic #fandom #fantasy

[jikookiekosmos]

Use My Best Colors For Your Portrait || jjk

➥Pairing: best friend!jungkook/reader, boyfriend!jungkook/reader, artist!jungkook

➥Summary: After surprising Jungkook with his own studio room for his paintings, he couldn’t be any more over the moon. All’s well and good until he’s struggling to find inspiration...which you happily provide him with. He’s ecstatic to find his muse in you, and painting your portrait brings him so much joy. Things take a turn however, when he suddenly realizes what else he wants to paint.

➥Genre: established relationship, tiny bit of angst if you squint, fluff, smut

➥Rating: 18+

➥Words: ~7.9k (small drabbles don’t exist for me apparently, oops)

➥Content warnings: most of this at the beginning is just cute fluff domestic times (finally not much angst!), blonde jungkook, jk ties his hair up at some point (my weakness), jk puts paints on the reader, making out, slight hair pulling, cursing, shower sex times, jungkook has a big dick, oral (m. receiving), very slight mouth fucking, dirty talk, fingering (very brief), unprotected sex (safe sex is great sex), biting, cumming inside, cute times in the shower, jungkook is actually the sweetest, reader and jk are so in love with each other it hurts, also jk saying ‘only for you’ is a thing i started and can’t stop now oops

A/N: hello! This is part of my Only for You (OFY) Drabble series, but it can be read as a stand-alone! Their relationship will make a lot more sense though if you’ve read OFY beforehand. This fic takes place roughly around six months after the events of OFY (so in between that and the dream drabble I also posted).

Once again, thank you to @dntaewithluv​ for her endless support and always giving me feedback, I forever appreciate you and your friendship is more than I could ever ask for 💜

I’ve written a few other drabbles and will list them below, along with a general timeline:

When I Dream of You - ~1 year after OFY

Stay With Me - a few months after the dream drabble

Also, I hope that if you read this, you enjoy it~

➥OFY Spotify Playlist (songs I listened to for inspo)

➥Series Masterlist

➥All Works Masterlist

taglist: @inlovewiththemoonn​

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

You would do absolutely anything in the world for Jeon Jungkook.

Seeing him happy had to be at the top of your list of favorite things in the world, as it had been for many years as his best friend, and now in the several months since the two of you started dating. Some things just never changed, you guessed.

Which is why you took it upon yourself to change one of the spare rooms in the house you two were renting into a space where he could thrive as the artist he was. Initially, the two of you thought it would be nice to use that space as a work area for you, since your job required you to sometimes do work from home. And for a little while, that’s exactly what you did.

But ever since you found out Jungkook liked to paint – scratch that, he loved to paint, and had been doing so for longer than you thought – the gears started turning in your head.

The current space he was using to create his art was definitely less than ideal. The house had a decent sized garage area, so there was enough room for him to store his supplies and be able to paint without it being too much of an issue. The downside, though, was it was cramped and even though Jungkook said he didn’t mind it, you still couldn’t help the frown from masking your features whenever you saw him huddled up so close to his easel.

For the last few weeks, and with lots of help from internet searches, you’d been slowly converting your space into something like a studio. You didn’t have to worry about Jungkook finding out, either, since he very rarely went into that room seeing as he had no reason to. He respected your privacy the same as you respected his, so this made everything infinitely easier for you in the long run.

The day had finally arrived where you would show the new space to Jungkook. Everything was set up as perfect as you could manage it – at least you hoped so – and you were dying of excitement to show him as soon as possible.

You were also, however, incredibly nervous at the same time. What if he didn’t like it? Even worse, what if he hated it?

Of course, you knew deep down that there was no way Jungkook could hate anything you ever did, unless it was something horrible, but you worried about everything because that’s just how you were. So, when the two of you were sitting at the dinner table one night, you tried hard to swallow the lump in your throat as you listened to Jungkook talk about his newest work.

“I really think you’re gonna like how this one turns out, angel.” Jungkook was offering you a sweet smile as he went to grab another bite of food from his plate. You managed to smile back, despite the hammering of your heart against your chest. He was basically handing you the perfect opening for you to segue the conversation!

“I know I’ll love it, Koo.” You watched as his small smile turned into a full grin, his nose scrunching up in that adorable way that had you falling in love with him all over again every time you saw it.

“Speaking of your paintings,” you started off, clearing your throat while he swallowed down his food. He looked at you with his undivided attention and it made your heart skip a beat.

Ok let’s be real, every damn thing this man did made your heart skip a beat.

“Yeah? What about them?” He twirled more of the noodles around his fork while he waited on your answer.

You gulped. “Wouldn’t you like it if you had more space?”

Jungkook chuckled and placed his fork down, shaking his head as he placed on hand on top of yours that was still resting by your plate. You’d barely touched your food and he noticed.

“Baby,” he started, “as much as I would love to have a bigger space, what I have now is just fine. I know you think it’s stifling my creativity in there, but I’m still creating things and am comfortable.” He squeezed you hand gently before returning to his food.

“I get that you think the garage is fine but what if I told you that- that you could have a bigger workspace.” You finally picked up your fork and were poking around at your own food now, avoiding his gaze. You could feel his stare boring into you regardless, though.

“I mean – yeah, hypothetically I could have more space, but it’s not in the cards for us right now and that’s ok, too. Maybe one day.”

The way he always was optimistic about your future together made you feel warm all over. Jungkook liked to look on the bright side of every situation, and it’s been enough to help you keep your own wits about yourself numerous times now.

But this time you wanted to show him that the future could be closer than he realized.

“Koo, can you come with me real quick? I have something I want to show you.”

You didn’t miss the confused look that flashed across his face for a second before his calm demeanor took over again.

“Of course.” He hopped up from the table, that smile you adored now plastered on his face. “Lead the way.”

“Ok but I also need you to close your eyes.” You reached out to take his hand and were rewarded with an eyebrow raise.

He hummed thoughtfully but did as you asked, closing his eyes and grasping your hand tighter so you could lead him wherever you planned to.

You walked through the house pulling him behind you, feeling your heartbeat quicken with every step to where its pace was almost concerning. Whether or not it was mostly from excitement or nervousness, you weren’t sure.

You finally reached your destination and let go of his hand so you could open the door.

“Keep your eyes closed, ok,” you asked. Jungkook simply nodded and you saw a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He had no idea what you were about to show him, but knowing you and how much he loved pretty much anything you did, he was sure it’d probably make him happy.

And he couldn’t have been more correct in his assumption.

At the quiet sound of you telling him he could open his eyes he did so, slowly at first, blinking to adjust to the light the now flooded over the both of you. It took him several seconds to register exactly what he was seeing, and when he did he couldn’t speak. All he could do was stare around the room, mouth agape.

Decorating the walls were the paintings he had given you, beautiful works of various sizes and themes. Alongside the far wall was a tall shelf that housed all his supplies (how had you managed to get them past him without him noticing?), and even some new things like paints he’d been eyeing for a while and other tools he hadn’t had a chance to get himself yet.

But in the middle of the room stood his easel and chair, set up in the similar fashion as it had been in the garage. His apron was draped across the back of the chair, and there was even tarp laid out underneath the workspace. You research had paid off because everything was set up in such a way that it created the perfect atmosphere for Jungkook’s creativity to shine through in ways it hadn’t been able to before.

You weren’t aware of this yet, however, because you were still watching Jungkook’s reaction. He still hadn’t said anything, and as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, you started to wonder if this was the right call-

Strong arms were pulling you up from the ground and spinning you around before you could process it, making you squeal with delight as Jungkook twirled you before bringing you back down to pepper kisses all over you face.

“Angel, I can’t believe this, you did all this for me?” He was still holding onto your hips tightly, beaming as he looked down at you. Your nod and giggle was all the confirmation he needed before he pulled you into another kiss, this one slightly more heated than the ones before.

“Do you like it,” you questioned when the both of you pulled away to breathe. Jungkook laughed before taking your face in his hands and brushing his nose along yours.

“Do I like it? Baby, I love it. It’s perfect! Thank you so much.” Another kiss. “I love it and I love you, I love you so fucking much.”

His happiness made your heart soar and you definitely knew that you’d do something like this an infinite amount of times if it meant he’d keep that smile on his face.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

A few weeks passed by and Jungkook had been using his new studio nearly everyday at this point. His creations had been increasing in numbers and he was starting to receive commissions from others thanks to his small online shop he’d set up with your help. He still worked at the bar as his primary job, but he was also grateful to have a hobby on the side that could potentially yield something lucrative.

Of course, Jungkook’s increase in his time spent on his art still didn’t take away from his time with you. If anything, it gave the both of you another way to spend time together, since now there was enough space for you to sit in and observe him paint when you couldn’t before. You often sat quietly and either did some of your own work or engaged in your own hobbies while he painted, and it was always peaceful.

There came a day, though, that you never thought you’d experience: Jungkook had run out of inspiration. He’d hit his first real artist’s block and it was taking a bigger toll on him than he would’ve liked.

You rubbed his shoulders as he sat in front of his easel one night, groaning in frustration about his current work. “It’s not turning out at all like I want it to. I’ve been struggling with finding new inspiration and it clearly shows in whatever this is.” He vaguely gestured to the canvas, prompting you to place a kiss on his cheek as you ran your hand through his pretty blonde hair. You knew that always helped to calm him down and this case was no exception.

Jungkook sighed heavily, turning to place a kiss on your palm that was still lingering around his face. “Sorry, I don’t mean to get worked up. It just sucks, you know? I’d been on this really good streak of creating things and now I just…can’t. It’s weird and I don’t like it.” He pouted slightly and the sight made you giggle.

“I know, baby, but you’ll figure something out. You always do.” You placed a kiss on top of his head before you walked around to sit on his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck and one of his hands cradled your waist to steady you.

He was humming thoughtfully as he looked you up and down, your hands now playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“What are you thinking about?”

He smiled slyly. “You.”

You rolled you eyes before returning the smile. “Ok, what about me? I’m curious.”

His hand was rubbing up and down your side. “Nothing in particular, just usually looking at you can help me with inspiration.”

His confession made you gasp. “Really?”

He nodded and smiled wider. “Really. You inspire me a lot.” He placed a chaste kiss on your lips before sighing again. “This time though it’s not really working like I’d hoped.”

You watched his eyes close and his brows furrow before an idea popped into your head. “Hey,” you reached down to tilt his chin up so he’d look at you, “It might be a long shot, but: have you ever considered painting portraits?”

He pursed his lips as he thought about it. The simple act made you want to kiss him but now wasn’t the time.

“Honestly…no. I’ve never thought about it before because I usually prefer to paint scenery.”

You searched his eyes as you asked your next question. “Well, if you want to try, maybe you could paint me? Even if it doesn’t go anywhere, maybe it can help spark a new idea or something?”

You watched as his eyes slowly lit up at your suggestion, his face morphing into a smile that you mirrored.

“That’s a great idea! It’s something new and it also includes you, so I already love it.” You chuckled in his lap as he hugged you closer, placing a small kiss on your neck. “Thank you.”

You ran your hands through his hair again before leaning back. “Anything for you. Do you want to start now?”

He thought about it for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, we can do that. Is there, uh – was there something specific you wanted to wear for it?”

You wiggled your eyebrows suggestively. “Are you suggesting you want to paint a nude portrait?”

Even though Jungkook knew your body better than you did at this point, your words still managed to make him blush as he groaned. “No, I wasn’t thinking that- not that I’d mind of course just you know, whatever makes you comfortable-”

You laughed at his flustered nature before hopping off his lap. “You’re so cute. I’ll go find something to change into, it shouldn’t take long.”

“R-right,” he stuttered, still clearly somewhat affected by what you had said. You shook your head with amusement as you went to your bedroom to find something to wear. You settled for a purple dress that you knew Jungkook loved, and considering a lot of his paintings involved shades of purple and blue, you figured it would be perfect.

You knew you made the right choice when you stepped back into the room and saw Jungkook’s face when his eyes fell on you. He looked like he’d never seen someone so beautiful (he looked at you like that a lot and it always did something to you) and your lips curled upwards into a smile before you could realize it.

You stopped in the doorway and twirled, giving him a full view of the dress. “Is this ok?”

You already knew the answer, but it was always nice to hear him say it.

He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, it’s perfect. You can, uh, you can take a seat whenever you’re ready.”

While you were changing, Jungkook had pulled one of the loveseats from the living room into the space so you’d have somewhere to sit or lay while he painted you. The loveseat was a dark blue color and it contrasted beautifully against the color of your dress. You decided to lay on it in a comfortable pose, and you couldn’t help the small giggle you let out at Jungkook’s reaction to your choice.

You had laid an arm behind your head, turning your face so you were looking at him while the rest of your body was sprawled out on the loveseat. One of your legs dangled over the side, making the skirt of your dress hike up somewhat. You were very comfortable, and Jungkook was very happy with your pose.

“Make it pretty, ok,” you joked with him. He smirked at your comment.

“You know I will. I’ll use my best colors, just for you.”

“Wow, I feel special,” you quipped back. You were rewarded with the sound of his beautiful laughter as it echoed off the walls.

“You’re the most special,” he admitted honestly. You gave him a brilliant smile and he felt his heart stutter.

With the way you were looking at him, Jungkook thought that if he didn’t start painting, he may never start. So, he forced himself to tear his eyes away from you so he could find the paints he needed to get started. He tied up his hair, a few of the blonde strands escaped and framed his face but he didn’t seem to mind it too much as he got to work.

Thankfully, since you’d chosen a good position, the process was easier than you thought it would be. You just had to lie there and watch him work, which you happily did. You enjoyed watching his face scrunch up in concentration before relaxing again as he brushed stroke after stroke onto the canvas.

You were so beyond proud of him that it made your heart swell inside your chest.

Jungkook had been painting for a little over half an hour before he announced it was time to take a break. He could paint for hours on end without stopping, but that was when he didn’t have a live subject he was working with. He walked over to you with a bottle of water so you could sip from it without having to disturb your position too much.

You sat up slightly so you could drink, and while you did so, one of your dress straps started falling down your arm. Jungkook immediately went to move it back into place, but as he did, he couldn’t help but stare at the dark contrast of the purple satin against your skin. He thought it was so pretty, and his mind started wandering to how the paint itself might look-

He shook his head to rid himself of the thought. He may have been covered in paint himself, but that didn’t mean he needed to go putting paint on you.

When you were re-situated on the loveseat once more, Jungkook strolled back over to this easel. Unfortunately, since that thought of you covered in paint first took up residence inside his head, he now found it hard to focus on anything else. While he stared at you to try and resume your portrait, he just kept picturing you with painted streaks covering your skin instead.

You must have noticed he was distracted because soon you were calling over to him. “Kook? Is something wrong?”

He gulped and shook his head. “No, nothing’s wrong! You’re doing great, baby.”

“Do you need me some other way?”

Such a simple statement and yet it was stirring something inside of him. Asking him if he needed you a certain way ignited that desire to once again paint you and he found himself unable to hold back from asking anymore.

“Yeah, I uh, I wanted to try something.” You were confused when he got up and started walking toward you, only carrying his paint supplies. At first you thought maybe he just wanted to get closer, but he didn’t bring the easel with him.

“What are you wanting to try,” your voice was laced with curiosity. He gave you a shy smile.

“I was just thinking about how pretty it would be,” he looked down at the floor then back up at your face before he continued, “if I used you as a canvas instead.”

You felt your breath hitch in your throat at the request. Jungkook was asking to paint you, not paint you on a portrait, but to paint you. The suggestion intrigued you a lot more than you thought it would, which is ultimately what led to you nodding your agreement. “I think I’d like to try that, too.”

Jungkook’s face broke into such a dazzling smile that excited you to no end. You watched as he pulled his chair close to you, as well as some tarp to place around the area. When he was situated where he wanted to be, he dipped his brush into some of the purple paint on his palette and gently lifted your arm. The feeling of the paint as it brushed along your arm was foreign but not unwelcome. There was something about it that was almost calming.

You were now also recalling all the times you’d told Jungkook how pretty he looked even covered in paint. The pretty colors contrasting with his beautiful, golden skin tone never failed to take your breath away no matter how many times you saw it. You wondered briefly if this is what he was experiencing now as he took his time painting your skin.

He was focusing on your with such intensity and taking great care to only get the paint where he wanted it, so as to not stain certain parts of you or your dress. The sight of his caution made that familiar warmth bloom in your chest again.

He took his time painting beautiful designs along your arm before moving down to paint on your thighs and legs. He was alternating between purple and blue hues now, and the swirling patterns reminded you a lot of his tattoos that you adored. You had spent many nights lying next to him in bed, tracing the lines of his tattoos until you were too sleepy to keep it up. Seeing the patterns against your own skin briefly made you think about if you would ever want to get a tattoo. Before you put too much thought into it, your attention was pulled back to Jungkook who was sitting up now and admiring his work.

The time had passed by much quicker than you anticipated, and it was starting to get dark outside as the light was no longer filtering in through the windows of the room.

He seemed satisfied as he nodded and smiled. “Wait here, I’ll be right back. Stay just like this,” he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before leaving the room. When he returned, he had his coveted polaroid camera in his hands. Jungkook was also big into photography, and every one of his hobbies suited him perfectly in some way.

“Is it ok if I take a photo of you, baby?”

You grinned and nodded, being careful not to move too much from your current position. He snapped the photo and the polaroid was printing immediately after. When he pulled it from the camera, he laid it down on the table next to his easel so it could develop properly.

Jungkook wiped his hands off on his apron before taking it off and drawing his attention back to you. He could stare at you like this all day, but he knew it would probably be best to get you both cleaned up and paint-free.

He offered a hand for you so he could help pull you off the loveseat. When you were up fully, he wrapped his arms around you, careful to not get any of his exposed, paint-covered skin on your dress.

“You look so beautiful like this,” he murmured softly, brushing some of your hair out of your face as his eyes scanned up and down your body to admire his creation. “And as much as I love seeing it, we should probably get this paint off soon. When it dries too much, it can be a bitch to scrub off, and I don’t want that for you.”

You chuckled at that and simply nodded your head. You’d been lying there for nearly 2 hours at this point, so you were pretty tired and ready to just relax for the night.

The two of you hopped into the shower shortly after, helping each other rid your bodies of the remnants of paint covering you both. You always loved taking showers with Jungkook, because whether or not it was a short, regular shower, or one shared after a night of intimacy, these moments were some that you cherished the most and wouldn’t change for the world.

You got lost in the feeling of Jungkook scrubbing shampoo into your hair, letting out soft noises as your eyes slipped closed.

Your noises always threatened to drive Jungkook crazy, and this time was no exception. He couldn’t deny the stirring of his cock as he listened to the little moans slipping from your mouth at such a simple action.

Of course, since he was so close to you, there was no way you didn’t feel him. His cock was hardening against your thigh, and the fact that you were turning him on by not doing much turned you on.

You could feel the wetness start to slip past your folds, but you decided to not make any moves yet, wondering how far you could take this before either of you snapped. You knew that teasing him was one of the quickest ways to get Jungkook riled up.

“Feels so good, Koo,” you shamelessly moaned out as he kept massaging the shampoo into your hair. You heard him let out a small grunt at your deliberate words, feeling him twitch against your thigh as he got harder.

You leaned your head back to give him a better view of your neck, since you knew he loved to mark you up there. His hands were starting to tangle in your hair, but he took care to not pull too hard as he brought his attention back to the task(s) at hand.

He was currently focusing on two things: 1) getting the rest of the shampoo out of your hair, and 2) not fucking you up against the shower wall. Doing the first thing was currently keeping him from acting on the second, but you certainly weren’t helping with that.

Your head lolled around on your neck, your eyes still closed as your sounds got louder. He knew you were messing with him now, so as retaliation he pulled on your hair a little tighter, making you gasp.

“You’re doing this on purpose, angel,” you could hear the dark tone of his voice over the waterfall in the shower clearly, and it just made you more aroused. You chanced opening your eyes to look at him, and the sight you were met with made you moan louder, this time without trying.

Jungkook was staring at you, mouth slightly parted as he let out pants of his own, his blonde, soaked tresses falling in his face and covering his eyes. His tongue darted out to lick his lips as he tugged on your hair again, making you reach out to place your hands on his chest.

“You’re teasing me to get me worked up, hm?” All you could do was nod, his husky voice and the feeling of his hand wrapped in your hair making you wetter by the second. There was no use in playing coy any longer. You wanted him, and he wanted you.

The question now was: who would make the first move?

You realized that you wanted to be the one to make the first move, so you did.

“So, what if I am,” you asked sweetly, wrapping your hand around his length and pumping him slowly. His eyes closed and he leaned his forehead against your shoulder, fingers now digging into your waist.

“You know what happens when you do that,” Jungkook warned. You absolutely knew what happened, and you definitely wanted it to happen.

“Hmm, I don’t know, maybe you should enlighten me.” You teased him as you gently nibbled on his earlobe, increasing your pace as you continued to stroke him. You heard him let out a soft moan against your shoulder as he placed a kiss there.

With no more hesitation, you turned him slightly and sank down to your knees in front of him, delighted by how his cock jerked in your hold when you steadied it with your hand.

Jungkook stared at you wide-eyed as you started moving your hand around his shaft before placing a gentle kiss on his tip, the prettiest groan falling from his lips. “Fuck, Y/N, are you sure you want to do this?”

You peeked up at him as you fluttered your eyelashes, knowing that seeing you like this always aroused him beyond belief. You continued moving your hand in slow, languid strokes, and he was almost fully hard now.

He let his head hit the wall behind him, soft curses and praises for you tumbling from his mouth. 

Seeing him like this had to be near the top of the list of your favorite sights to ever witness. And right then is when you figured it’d be the perfect time to surprise him. Without a warning you opened your mouth and took all of him in that you could reach.

Jungkook’s reaction was immediate.

“Hey wait what are y- oh my God, fuck.” His loud moan echoed off the walls of the room, causing a fresh wave of arousal to pool between your thighs. You sucked harder as you hollowed out your cheeks, ignoring the way your throat constricted around him.

“Y/N, shit, you feel so good, your mouth- fuck, angel, I don’t want to hurt you,” Jungkook was panting hard above you, eyes shut and brows furrowed, jaw slack as he unabashedly continued to moan at your actions. He was reaching behind him to try and hold something, but the smooth wall had nothing to offer him. His fingers were slipping against the tile, so he gave up and instead settled for clenching and unclenching his fists.

You pulled off him with a pop, a string of saliva left in your wake. You smiled up at him as you kept stroking him, not wanting his pleasure to disappear in the slightest.

“You won’t hurt me, Koo,” you reassured him, earning another groan from the man falling apart under your touch. He twitched in your hold, and you stuck your tongue out again to run it along the underside of his length. 

Jungkook chanced looking down at you, only to look up at the ceiling a moment later while he muttered a strained “holy shit.” 

“C’mon baby, don’t you want to look at me,” you taunted him as your tongue played with the head of his cock, swirling around him. The low groans coming from above you let you know that he enjoyed that a lot.

“Fuck, angel, I-” Jungkook’s sentence died as a moan ripped itself from his throat when you surged back down to take all of him in again. This time you continued moving, feeling the tears in the corners of your eyes but not stopping.

It wasn’t like you’d never sucked him off like this before, seeing as it was one of your favorite activities, after all. But it was a rare occasion where Jungkook would let you take all of him in one go for fear of hurting you. So, you took these chances whenever they presented themselves, and the reward was always, always worth it.

Tears along with the water droplets from the shower were coating your face but you didn’t care. All of your focus was on Jungkook and how he was trying so hard to restrain himself above you. You watched his fists clench and unclench and you could feel himself struggle to keep his hips from moving forward so he didn’t fuck your mouth.

Yeah, you weren’t having that. You wanted him to let go, wanted him to know that it was ok, that you wanted this. You reached out to grab one of his hands and placed it in your hair, relishing in the way his fingers immediately tangled themselves into the wet strands. You pulled your mouth off of him again, but not before letting your tongue drag slowly across every inch of him.

You looked up at him again as you pumped him leisurely, waiting until he brought his gaze down to stare at you, only for him to quickly close his eyes again.

“God, I can’t look at you, like I want to, fuck do I want to, but you look so fucking good like this, I’m not gonna last-”

You always found his stammering to be cute and you didn’t want to torture him too much longer. Deciding that you’d teased him enough, you took all of him into your mouth again, intertwining your fingers with his unoccupied hand and giving it a squeeze. The intimacy of this particular action was always enough to get both of you going, and it had Jungkook’s hips stuttering as you sucked hard.

“Fuck, baby, always take me so good like this. Always so good for me, I love you, fuck,” he was groaning as his head hit the wall behind him again, his hold in your hair tightening the same moment you felt him buck his hips like you’d been wanting all this time.

Unfortunately, for you, whenever Jungkook would fuck your mouth, no matter how much you wanted to sit there and take it without issue, his size always proved to be too big for you to handle and it had you coughing around his length in no time. Which, of course, always made Jungkook stop what he was doing before either of you had the chance to enjoy it much.

“Fuck, baby, I’m so sorry, are you ok?” Jungkook pulled you up while you kept coughing, brushing the wet strands of hair out of your face and looking at you with worry. You nodded and tried to reassure him, wanting to get back on your knees for him, but he held you in place.

“You don’t want me to continue,” you asked, your voice a little more hoarse than usual thanks to what your throat had just endured.

Jungkook shook his head. “No, angel, it’s not that. If you do keep going, I’ll cum in no time.” He brushed some of the water away from under your eyes, not knowing if it was tears or from the shower. He bent down to place a rough kiss on your lips, such a contrast from how his hands caressed your face.

“I want to be inside of you when that happens,” he murmured against you, gently biting down on your bottom lip and pulling a whine from you, in turn causing more wetness to gush between your legs. “If you’ll let me, of course.”

You almost laughed. “Koo, you know I’ll let you do anything at this point.”

He chuckled. “That’s a dangerous admission, baby. You sure about that?”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. “Of course I’m sure. I’d let you do anything you want because I trust you. Because I love you,” it was your turn to kiss him this time, and it was filled with so much passion it nearly made him dizzy. Jungkook could never get tired of the feeling of your lips against his, of hearing you say that you loved him, of feeling your skin pressed against each other during times like these.

Jungkook was hooked on you and he never wanted to go back to a time where he wasn’t.

You pulled him out of his thoughts as you tugged on some of his hair, earning a delicious sounding grunt from him. You whispered your next snarky comment right by his ear.

“You gonna fuck me now, baby?”

Your bluntness had his cock quickly stirring back to life after it had softened some during your coughing incident. He growled low and dark as he started placing love bites on your collarbone.

“Sure you don’t want me to return the favor first, angel?” He was marking up your skin while he asked this, so you almost didn’t realize what he was asking specifically but then it dawned on you.

“As much I love seeing you with your head between my legs,” you responded, tugging on his hair again, “I’d rather have you fuck me up against this wall.”

He moaned against your collarbone, the action vibrating your skin. He pulled off of you and brought your lips to his in a filthy kiss. “Your wish is my command.”

Jungkook lifted you up then by placing his hands under your ass and you got the message, wrapping your legs around him as he held you up. He turned so your back was against the wall, the only things now holding you up being his strong arms and the smooth tile behind you.

He first plunged two fingers inside you without a warning, making you let out a silent scream. He smirked at the way you clenched around his fingers, scissoring them before pulling them out again. You whined at the loss and he shushed you with a gentle kiss on your nose.

“Had to make sure you’re ready, baby.” He had one arm wrapped around your waist, trapped in between your back and the shower wall. With his now free hand, he lined himself up with your entrance, moaning when the tip of his cock was sucked in by your velvety walls.

“Fuck, you already feel so good and I’m barely in yet,” he clenched his jaw as he sank further into you inch by inch. When he finally bottomed out and was filling you up in the best way possible, you clenched around him to tease him further, making him curse.

“Watch it, angel,” he growled. “You’re gonna make it very hard for me to not blow it if you keep doing that, and I want you there with me when I do.”

“Then I guess you’d better start moving,” you teased, wrapping your arms more tightly around his neck. You knew what was coming next; Jungkook would put you exactly in your place, just like you wanted. And for that you needed to hold on tight for dear life because that man could rock you like nothing ever had before.

Jungkook grabbed your hips firmly in his hold as he fucked up into you, making sure you were held against the wall and weren’t in danger of falling down as he did so. Despite this, each thrust had you sliding more up the wall until he would bring you back down again. When he found a pace that was he was sure he could resume without either of you getting hurt, he finally let go.

To say you saw stars would be an understatement. Jungkook was fucking you with so much vigor that you weren’t just seeing stars, you were sure you were seeing entire galaxies. Your sounds kept dying out on your tongue because the feeling was so overwhelming and it had your trembling around him in no time.

“Can’t make any sounds when I’m fucking you this good, angel?” Jungkook was taunting you now and quite frankly, he was right, he was fucking you so good that you were finding it hard to say anything. And the mixture of his dirty words with the sweet pet name you adored had you clenching even tighter around him, causing him to groan loudly and grip your waist tighter.

You eventually found your voice again when Jungkook hit a certain spot inside of you, pulling an embarrassingly loud whine from your throat. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, tears almost brimming in your eyes once again at how good he felt.

“Fuck, Jungkook, feels so good, oh my God-” your praises made him twitch inside you as he moved his hands now from your waist to hold you up by cupping your ass, squeezing tightly in time with his thrusts. He was bouncing you up and down on his cock now with his strength alone, and the thought of it made your orgasm start to approach at an alarmingly fast rate.

“I love feeling you so close like this, I love you, so fucking much, shit-” Jungkook cut himself off as threw his head back to get his hair out of his face, careful not to let his balance falter or his grip slip on you. He had to do it though because his hair was keeping him from seeing your face now that you were leaning your head back against the wall, and he couldn’t have that.

“I love you, Jungkook, I’m close, fuck,” you were breathing hard as you couldn’t control your moans any longer, eyes squeezed shut and tears falling from just how much pleasure you were receiving and also how much you loved this man. Jungkook was the man you’d loved for so many years before you were finally able to call him yours. He always took care of you in every aspect of life, and you reciprocated it as best you could. And it was because of this kind of love you two had for each other that made these intimate times all the more meaningful. You were sitting here, back up against a shower wall in the arms of the man you loved while he rearranged your guts, and it was such an emotional experience alongside being a pleasurable one that the tears actually made sense.

Jungkook bit down on your shoulder and pulled you out of your reverie, making you cry out as he muffled his own sounds against your skin. You could tell by his thrusts that he was getting close now, his grunts happening more frequently and louder, echoing off the tiled shower walls. The water had already started to get cold but neither of you cared. Nothing outside of the two of you existed in this moment, and that was exactly how you liked it.

“Touch yourself for me, baby, I’m close, want you to be there with me,” Jungkook breathed out, his grip on your ass harsher now and you were sure there’d be marks tomorrow. You loved it when he marked you up, and even though he always felt slightly bad about it, you knew Jungkook loved seeing the marks, too.

You obeyed his command and reached down to rub your clit, nearly shrieking at the new wave of pleasure that washed over you. The sensations on your clit, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside of you, the way he was holding you, and all the things he was saying to you was enough to finally push you over the edge.

“Jungkook, I’m cumming, fuck-” you barely had time to utter out your warning before you were cumming hard around his length, your body spasming as he held you through it.

He sped up then, chasing his own high now, the feeling of your walls clenching around him making his eyes roll back. “Fuck, I can feel you, always so perfect for me, I’m close-”

His eyes were closed now so he didn’t see you reach for him. You pulled him closer so you could kiss him, hoping to help him along this way, swallowing down every beautiful sound he was making. “C’mon Koo, cum for me, wanna feel you fill me up.”

“Fuuuuck,” he moaned out, loud and long as that was the last thing he needed to get him there. His hips stuttered a few more times before you felt him twitch and fill you up, just like you wanted. Because gravity was working against you due to your current position, you could feel some of it dripping out of you despite Jungkook still being inside of you. The feeling made you scrunch up your nose, and the action made Jungkook laugh and mumble out ‘cute’ as he placed a kiss on the tip of your nose.

He pulled out of you carefully before moving you away from the wall so he could set you down on your feet. Your legs were a little wobbly, so he let you brace yourself against him as he helped you clean up.

The water was nearing a very uncomfortable cold temperature, but the both of you would rather endure that than leave the shower without cleaning off completely. After the workout you both had, there was nothing more you wanted than to curl up with each other in the bed.

After helping each other get clean again, and stealing quite a few kisses while doing so, Jungkook helped you out of the shower since you still didn’t trust your legs and dried you off before taking care of himself. Your heart swelled at the sight of him as it always did when he would take care of you like this.

You just hoped that you were taking care of him in all the ways he needed as well. You were certainly trying your best and would continue to do so for the rest of your life.

Once you were both snuggled into bed, him with an arm under you and you with your face nuzzling against his chest, you broke the silence first.

“If that’s what happens when I let you put paint on me, we should do that more often.”

Jungkook, who was tracing invisible patterns on your back in between your shoulder blades, laughed so hard you shook along with him. When he finally calmed down, he was able to answer you. “I totally agree. Although, I don’t think that happened because I painted you. It happened because you-” he booped you on the nose “-teased me, knowing full well what happens when you do.”

You shrugged as best you could with his arms around you. “You love it, though.”

Jungkook chuckled. “Indeed I do.” He placed a kiss on the top of your head and resumed his earlier soothing tracing of patterns on your skin. You rested your cheek against his chest and could hear his heartbeat, slow and steady. The combined actions of his hands and the steady thrum of his heartbeat was enough to have slumber calling your name in a matter of minutes.

Jungkook had something more to say, however.

“Hey,” he called gently, making you look up at him with groggy eyes. He smiled at the sight. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For helping me. For being my muse. I’ve got more ideas now about what else to create, and I don’t think I could’ve gotten there without your help.”

You smiled at him before you placed your head down again and shut your eyes once more, breathing deeply. “You would’ve eventually. That’s just how you are. Maybe I sped up the process, but you would’ve done fine.”

“Perhaps,” he sighed and looked at the ceiling. His glance travelled down to look at your nearly sleeping form, laying on him calm and unbothered. Moments like these topped his list of favorite things, and he wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world.

“Goodnight, angel,” he murmured softly, not sure if you were asleep or not yet. You muttered something unintelligible back, but he knew you were telling him goodnight all the same, and it brought a smile to his face.

Jungkook wanted to tackle life with you, the good, the bad, all of it; he wanted to do it with you by his side. He wanted to make sure every day of your life from here on out was filled with happiness and love and everything you deserved in the world, just as you wanted to do the same for him. He knew you’d do anything for him, and he’d do anything for you.

Only for you.

#bts #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios #ofy drabble

[heresathreebee]

The One Where She Got A Dog

Yelena Belova X Reader

Summary: how Yelena became a dog mom Masterlist Part 2

Tags: E | 1.8k words | scary movie, winter, secret pasts, sapphic

AN: Black Widow movie really got me in my feelings about those characters, Yelena in particular. I havent watched The Thing in almost a year please look the other way if movie events are out of order.

Pretty Russian girls are not usually your type, but fuck if you weren't absolutely obsessed with this one. You laughed when she told you she was from Ohio.  She laughed when you said you were too. 

Aquavit and your grandma's biscuit recipe brought her into your cabin on the edge of the world where she admitted to you she had never seen John Carpenter's The Thing before. You turned it on just as the snow storm set in and wrapped up in your thickest blankets with her. You're trying not to get your hopes too high but she's not shy about asking you to scoot closer. 

"Skäl," you cheer just as the ominous opening credits end and they find the mysterious ship in the frozen wasteland of antarctica. 

"Have you ever been?," Yelena asked. 

You grimace at the strong taste of aquavit. It's like vodka but with caraway for 'flavor'. You look at her from the side and poor yourself a second shot. "Been…?" 

"There." She points at the screen. 

"I have actually," you admit in a way you hope is flat and uninteresting, "have you?" 

Yelena shook her head. It's possible she might think you're being sarcastic (you cross your fingers under the blanket and hope she does). She's smiling at you, thinking something (but still watching the screen with interest). 

She drops the subject until you have to pause the movie to pee. You unwrap yourself from the cocoon of blankets and as you stand she asks you another question. 

"What were you doing there? in Antarctica, I mean." 

You sigh and pretend to brush something off of your pants. "Science trip with my parents. Shitty vacation for me I'd rather be in the Bahamas." 

You resist the urge to look at her. After taking care of business, you come back just in time to put the biscuits in the oven. You hear Yelena lean into the kitchen archway as the floors creak immensely here. 

"No timer?," she asked. 

"No timer," you confirm. "I use the timer of my heart." 

Yelena scoffs. "Please don't burn them, I'm curious about these… what are they– pastries?" 

"Something like that." 

The two of you went back to the movie just as the gang on screen is trying to decipher who is human and who is not. You feel like something between you has changed and sadly not for the better. 

But she can't know. 

"I hate this part," you say, making absolutely no move to avert your gaze. 

Yelena is startled when the doctor's arms become trapped in the bear trap belly mouth of the "man" on the table. She quickly covers her eyes and giggles manically, slapping your chest for the vague and unhelpful warning. You realize she's not as close to you as before…

There's 20 minutes left of this movie and you haven't seen a single thing on screen. Yelena stopped asking you questions when you stopped being coherent with your answers. All you can think about is telling her. 

But you can't tell her. She would never understand. You barely understand and it's about you. 

"I lied." Your heart beats in your throat as you see her face you but you can't look at her directly for fear of losing your nerve. "About the science expedition? That's not why I was in Antarctica…" 

Yelena seems to wait for you to continue but… 

"Eh, no offense but, " you gesture with your hand, "I don't really know you like that." 

Yelena gave your reply a single nod. "I suppose that's fair." 

You can't help but fidget in your seat. "Idliketo" 

"What was that?" 

You cleared your throat. "I said… I said I'd like to. Know you like that, I mean…" 

Yelena gives you a smile. "I would like to know you like that, too." 

The movie ends, the biscuits are not burnt but buttery soft and golden brown, and the blizzard outside has subsided some. It's still going but at least it's not buffering the doors and windows like before. 

"How can you watch that film in a place like this?" Yelena cannot get enough of those biscuits, stuffing them in her mouth 2 at a time. "Does it make you paranoid?" 

"Yes it does," you say, putting your coat on, "I think that's what makes it so much scarier–  looking outside and being scared every person you come across ain't who they say they are. Sometimes its not a bad thing though... I think it is rather… poetic, too." 

Yelena's eyebrows furrow. "Where are you going?" 

You put on your boots and hope the duct tape stays on the hole you covered earlier. "Dogs are out in the shed. It's heated and they have food, but not for days and I'd rather have 'em in the house where I can take care of them." 

As you finished your sentence you reached for the door,  but stopped when you noticed Yelena getting dressed too. She gives you a nod as soon as her hood comes up, and you give this brave thing an appreciative once over. 

The snow that nearly all melted before is up to your knees now. Fresh, white, and fluffy. It muffles sound like the world's sidelong turning. The odd snowflake wafts lazily from the sky, but for the most part it's died down. You teach back and take Yelena's gloved hand to keep from staying too far apart. 

"You know I always wanted a dog," she said. She could have said it in a whisper from 100 yards away and you still would have heard her–  that is how eerily quiet it is. 

Yelena squeezes your hand and you squeeze back. She's probably remembering the movie. You try to distract her by saying, "Oh yeah? You can have one of mine then." 

Yelena laughs, then stops. "You serious?" 

"As a heart attack." You finally reach the door to the shed and unlatch the door. A chorus of barks begin and you charge forward to nudge them back to give Yelena space to come in as well. "I do some breeding up here–  just a side job. They're usually working dogs but they can be pets too." 

Buck licks your face from chin to forehead and you push him back. "Down, boy! Show some respect!" 

Yelena has two of the mongrels circling her, sniffing all her clothes and demanding to be pet. "That's Burt, Barney, and Bella. Buck's my stud, but these heathens are going to a farm. They've got sheep to watch." 

Yelena chuckles as her hands get covered in slobber. "I love them." 

They're almost grown, three quarters the height of their father. Buck didn't even look in Yelena's direction because he knows you give him treats. You take your scarf off as the heat of the shed threatens to smother you and search your pockets for jerky.  

"She's in there with the new puppies." You point to a darkened closet. "Don't get too close now, she's still a little protective." 

Yelena creeps closer. You see her look at you from the corner of her eye. Probably terrified by the morphing dog scene from the movie. You give her an encouraging smile and tell her where to find the light. It's a pull cord and it bathes the room in a warm golden yellow light. 

Yelena's heavy, controlled breathing turns into a coo. Mama dog is laying on her side watching the newcomer closely. There's a pup asleep in the nest of her legs, another chewing on the hay that litters the ground, and the last one is biting their mother's ear. Yelena looks back at you with an adorable pout on her lip. 

"So cute…" 

You chuckle and put your arm around her. Buck knows to steer clear of mama dog and slinks off. You make your guest walk closer with you to show mama she's got your confidence. 

"Yelena, this is Beyonce." Mama dog's ears perk at the sound of her name. "Beyonce, this is Yelena. Be nice." 

You reach down and scoop up the hay eating puppy at your feet. "This one's always hungry." 

You put the pup in her arms and scoop up the biter. "This one likes to play. All the time. Got more energy than the blue Energizer bunny actually." 

The pup in question is literally trying to wriggle out of your hands in its eagerness to climb you and eat your hair. 

"And that one sleeps a lot?" Yelena nodded her head at the last pup. 

"Pretty much." You put the writhing excited puppy down before it hurts itself and look up into the rafters. "And then there's the climber…" 

You both turn your heads when you hear a tiny bark. A cute little face stares down at you from the rafters and there's a feather stuck to its nose. You shake your head knowing this pup got it from ripping up pillows in another part of the dog house. 

"Better go get her," you said, not moving an inch to do so.  

Yelena sees your challenge and rises to it. As if trained to do exactly so, she assesses the wooden interior for foot and hand holds. You can see the wheels turning in her head as she calculates what will and won't support her weight. In the sweep of a single moment, she rises from the door and swings herself into the rafters using a build up a momentum to propel her fast in an upperward direction. She completes the climb and balances with ease, reaching out to collect the happy wagging miscreant from her mountain top, tucks her in her jacket and climbs a different way down. 

You stare at her. "Were you raised by trapeze artists?" 

Yelena laughs. "I thought everybody was." 

The pup is safe and happy and eager to explore its new friend. Yelena lets her lick, sniff, and scratch at her skin, her clothes, her hair. The pup catches Yelena with a tiny lick right on the tip of her nose and Yelena looks back at you with adoring eyes. 

You smile. "Got a name for her already don't you?" 

"Yes," Yelena whines, "no, are you sure about this? I should probably tell you I've never had a dog before…" 

"I can tell your good people," you reply. "And smart as a whip. You'll adapt, just call me if you ever need anything." 

~

Three weeks later you get a phone call from an unknown number. It's Yelena giving you an address and making you swear never to tell anybody about it. You don't have any friends so it's an easy secret to keep. 

You drive a few miles south and stumble upon a stationary trailer in the middle of nowhere, nothing but clearings and trees and sky. Actually very similar to your own home. 

The door opens and Yelena greets you with a beer and the pup under her arm, already almost a foot bigger than she was before. 

"Her name is Fanny." You both laugh yourselves hoarse and pile into the trailer to puppy proof the place. 

#three bees writing #yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x female reader #black widow #black widow spoilers #black reader insert

[ink-on-the-brink]

Out of all the mercs, which do you think would be the easiest to befriend and gain all their trust and which one would be the hardest??? And also, I really love your writing :D keep it up and have a nice day/night!!! ^^

Happy to know you enjoy my work! It's good to know I'm doing something right!

This one's going to be super quick since I've been a bit busy recently, but it should be fun. It will go in order from easiest to hardest to befriend. (Also there won't be any editing so excuse my spelling mistakes)

Pyro

You so much as smile at them and they are your best friend. Not kidding. They can and will make you a best friend after only the first time meeting you.

All you have to do to gain their trust is be kind. They won't notice if it's fake or not so even a sarcastic or strained tone won't matter as long as you're smiling and saying nice things.

Pyro is super bubbily and energetic and if you meet that energy you two are going to get along tremendously well.

You may not understand them, but they are telling you their deepest secrets all the time. Their trust in you is very noticable even after only a week of meeting them.

They are a bit- well more like extremely childish. So being their friend automatically makes you more of the adult no matter how immature you might be.

Overall they just want to be friends with any and every person they meet and you are going to be their bestest friend no matter if you want to be or not.

Scout

This man is a pretty easy friend to make. You make even a half attempt and he's your best friend on day one.

Trust is earned when you play fair. He doesn't really like cheaters, so if he challenges you and you make it a point to be as fair as possible he already believes you're a good person.

I hope you like some friendly competition because that's basically your guys' friendship is based on.

Now while you two might become great friends quickly, that doesn't necessarily mean you're going to know his deepest insecurities. That will problably take about a half a year and a loy of awkward conversations to get to.

He can be a very annoying person so being his friend takes a considerable amount of patience.

Overall he just likes having friends, even if he tries to stay macho about it.

Demo

Being his friend is pretty easy as well. He always likes to have a few drinking buddys on hand and he won't hesitate to invite along people he might not know very well

He'll gain immideate trust for you if you help him while he's drunk. Most people will leave him in a corner to wake up in so he'll take your act of kindness as a reason to keep you around.

Most of your friendship is based on achohal. Drinking together, gifting booze, encouraging others to join, you two will most likely not even remember most of your more trusting moments with eachother.

As bombastic and outgoing as he is, he's rather private about certain topics. That is unless he's black out drunk. If he's not as drunk as he usually is he won't answer questions about family or anything about the future until he feels he knows you well enough.

Demo is a bit of a handfull most days. He never turns down a dare and bar fights are common. You'll likely have to pull him off the floor a lot and he is notorious for invading personal space. So as long as your up for the challenge, he's up for being your friend.

Overall he's a drunk idiot, but he's your drunk idiot. He will be sure to make each day a little interesting

Medic

Becoming Medics friend can be...an interesting expirence. It's going to involve blood, guts and conscious surgeries and he's not going to care for those who are faint of heart.

You want to gain his trust? Well here's the thing, there is no surefire way to do that. Help him out one day and he'll appreciate it, another and he might become suspicious. The best way is probably to find some interest in his expirements. He prefurs to surround himself with like-minded people.

The biggest part of your friendship is most likely a shared interest in crimes against humanity. Two mad scientists testing on the bodies of dead 'patients'. What could go wrong?

Medic tries to hold a professional tone most of the time but will drop all of that when in battle or when expirementing. It can be hard to keep up with how quickly he switches from one to the other so try to stay aware of what's happening.

Medic doesn't have secrets. He has no shame and will tell you the most horrifying things in an upbeat tone. That, however, doesn't mean he fully trusts you. It will likely take a while before he trusts you enough to leave you alone with any of his expirements or projects. It's his life's work after all, he's not going to allow just anyone to mess with it.

Overall he doesn't mind having friends, but he isn't very open to close friends. It'll take a bit of time and prying to get him to fully trust you.

Soldier

This dude is extreamly parinoid. He's consistently second guessing his friendships and looking for double agents. So becoming his friend isn't exactly easy. You are going to have to seriously impress him for him to even think of you as anything more than a possibly traitor.

Gaining his trust can vary on many factors. Military backround? You're already up a few hundred points. Love for america? He's open to listening to you. Care for raccons? Okay maybe he isn't as hard to befriend as he tries to be.

Violence. So. Much. Violence. If he thinks you might be a good friend he's going to put you to the test. Rigorous training, sparing, tests on your patriotism, anything that he deems as important will be something he tests you on. All of them will most likely involve some sort of physical endurance. Even after you two are friend these will still be a constant in your life.

He's not good with secrets but there are a few things he keeps silent about and getting him to talk about it will likely end with you on the floor. As stated before he's a rather parinoid person and if it's something he's not willing to say out loud, it's something that you're going to have to spend years gaining enough trust for him to open up about it.

Soldier is extreamly loyal. If you're his friend he'd happily bleed to keep you safe. He'd never believe a single negative thing said about you and will side with you one everything, no matter how wrong you are. If you remain just as loyal he will become your right hand man in an instant.

Sniper

Overall Soldier's a loud, obnoxious, patriotic and still somehow very lovable person. When he cares about someone he tends to be extremely kind, be it in a more abrasive way then others. So as long as you can see past his militaristic exterior he's one hell of a friend to have.

You wanna be friends with Sniper? Yeah, good luck with that. Not only is the dude a loner, but he has hella trust issues and he sure as hell isn't here to make friends. Becoming his friend is going to take time. A lot of time. And maybe some coffee.

There isn't a singular act you could do to gain his trust. You can defend him all you want, side with him on every issue, pull him out of a near death expirence, its not going to change how little he trusts you. It's going to take all of those and a few long coversations (good luck getting him in a conversation in the first place) before he even attempts to trust you.

Your friendship relies heavily on practically. He's only going to think of trusting you if he feels you give some advantage. It will take a few heart to hearts for him to look past seeing you as someone who can help him and instead as someone he cares about.

Sniper has a lot of dark parts to him and it is only once he fully trusts you that you'll get to know that side of him exists. Secretly he really just wants to spill about his insecurities and problems but he doesn't trust that people won't use it against him. Once he does trust you his cold exterior will fade away and you'll get to know a lot about the demons he fights with.

He pulls off the calculated killer rather well. Most people believe he knows of nothing else. To anyone who's close to him however, he's quite honestly a mess. He needs someone that grounds him and if you can provide that type of friendship then he will appreciate it more that any type of heroic act you could preform.

Overall he's guarded and quiet but desperately wants someone to relate to. It will take a persistent attempt to earn his trust and even if he's your friend he still tends to keep to himself.

Heavy

Ah yes, the silent behemoth. Befriending him is going to take more than just patience. It's going to take a certain amount of willpower as well. He doesn't trust easily and you'll have to work hard to prove yourself to him, most likely on the battle field.

His trust is gained a few ways, none of which are easier than the last. First you must have some care for family. That doesn't necisarry mean that you have a family, but one of the first things he looks for in a possible friend is whether they have any strong familial values. Next you will have to prove to be strong enough to fend for yourself. He might be a human meat sheild but that doesn't mean he likes being one. He appreicates someone who can help rather than hinder him. There are many more steps afterward and you will have to pass with flying colors for him to consider it.

Your friendship will rely entirely on having eachothers back. He needs to know you are willing to stick with him no matter how dire the circumstances. You fuck up or betray him once and he will most likely never trust you again.

Heavy doesn't talk much. Whether that is because of his lack of english knowledge or simply choosing to keep his mouth shut really depends.

He doesn't hold many secrets but he does hold many dark memeories. He usually would only trust his family enough to talk to them about it but once your close enough to be considered family he will open up to you, if only a little bit.

Heavy keeps to himself most of the time and doesn't prefur to say much, if anything at all so getting to know his isn't easy and gaining his trust is even harder. He's got a family to take care of and he's not going to risk their safety by trusting someone he shouldn't have.

Spy

Ah yes, the backstabber himself. Guarded, mysterious and an annoying bastard. The path to his friendship is fog covered and honestly it can be hard to tell whether he cares for you or not. He will never announce his care or show it in any way, so good luck finding out if you're on his good side.

You want his trust? You'll have to prove you're worth trusting. Getting him out of a tough spot or siding with him is likely to earn his respect at the very least. It won't get you all the way there though. He doesn't associate with anyone that doesn't hold his type of class. You'll have to be rather poised and polished when around him.

His friendships usually end up in a love/hate dynamic. He might enjoy your company, and in doing so open a weak point for others to exploit. That's where the hate comes in. He doesn't like having people close, it makes his job harder, so no matter how much he cares he sure as hell isn't going to let it show.

Spy will never, ever, trust anyone with the knowledge of his past. He'd sooner die then let someone know anything that happened before he met them. No matter how much he trusts you, no matter how close you get, you will never have enough trust for him to tell you that.

Spy his one hell of a prick. It might all be in good fun, but he can be a little too good at getting on your nerves sometimes. It's best if you keep him in check by returning his remarks with equally devistating comebacks. He might even respect you more if you're able to match his level of prickery.

Overall he's going to remain mysterious no matter how much he may trust you. He will try to not befriend anyone, so you making an attempt to do so will likely be met with less than favorable reactions at first. Give it time and he might just consider you not as annoying as everyone else.

Engie

You thought he was a trusting guy didn't you? Well that's just what he wants you to think. Becoming his friend is a complicated process that you most likely wont even be aware of. You'll think he's your friend when really he's the farthest thing from it.

Gaining his true trust is near impossible. He has nearly everyone convinced of his friendly exterior so he almost can't afford to trust anyone to know the truth. In every case that it is possible it's entirely on accident. Maybe you seem to genuinely care for him and the guilt leaves him a bit more open to caring about you. Or the opposite can happen. You see right through his act and in a bid to keep you silent about it he becomes honest with you. Either way it's not going to be on purpose.

Engie grew up in a life where you weren't supposed to trust everyone but you damn well make sure everyone trusts you. This can make it hard for him to be an actual friend, considering he's always kept people at a distance. He will often fall into habits of keeping his friendly exterior instead of being more genuine with you.

Engie has a lot of secrets. A lot. Most he will take to his grave. If you do, however, manage to earn his trust and especially if you earn his care, he'll share a few. There are very few circumstances that he will and most time while doing so he can be very visibly uncomfortable. You don't get raised in a mercinary family without a few demons following you.

He's only cared for very few people in his life and he's trusted even less. So there are times when he either seem distant and uncaring or caring to the point you feel patronized. It will take him a while to find out if he should trust you and the moment he does it can seem almost like you have become the most important person on his life. His once empty gestures are now entirely genuine and he feels safe with his back toward you. This is by no means an easy point to reach and will most defiantly have taken literal years to get to.

Overall he's used to not genuinely connecting with people and is extremely hesitant when doing so. You may not even notice this conflict, but it's most certainly a large part of his life.

#tf2 #reader x tf2 #tf2 x reader #engie #pyro #medic #tf2 engie #tf2 medic #soldier #spy #tf2 scout #scout #tf2 sniper #sniper #tf2 heavy #heavy #demo #demoman #tf2 demo #tf2 demoman #tf2 spy #headcannons #tf2 headcanons #tf2 platonic #platonic

[thefanficmonster]

Bouquet

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None

Genre: FLUFF, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having come clean about being single for a very long time now and considering herself completely out of the dating scene, Y/N’s confession is taken and responded to with a ton of kindness, especially from a special someone...

Requested by Anon. Hi hun! Thank you so much for your lovely request, it was such a joy to write! I’m so sorry for the long wait you had to go through but the fic is finally here and I hope you enjoy reading it! Love, Vy ❤

I roll out of bed with little to no desire to start my day. We haven’t got a scheduled stream for today and the clouds glooming in the sky seem to be promising rain so really what do I have to get up for except that it’s a rule society installed?

Just kidding, I’m basically stalling and that’s all.

So what happened was the streamer gang and I were playing Among Us last night and our conversation during the pause between rounds somehow swerved into relationship territory. I stayed quiet the majority of if not all the time because I had no valid input to offer. 

If you know me you know I’m not one of the performers on the dating scene. I have never really confirmed it with my fans - well, until last night, that is - but I bet they have picked up on that fact considering I’ve been on YouTube for around a decade and have never had a partner. That being said, I’d have to also mention that I have in fact dated but someone but it was before my YouTube era started. Me choosing this career path, which back then was just a hobby, had nothing to do with the relationship ending but it still motivated me to not to actively look for a relationship while I’m still focused on my career. It’s too much work, too much stress and requires a lot of balance I most certainly either don’t have or I don’t have the energy to put in balancing my romantic and professional lives. Luckily, no one’s ever pressured me into finding a significant other, not yet at least, so no societal pressure for me!

But I gotta admit I felt real awkward admitting all this last night.

“Hey Y/N what do you think? You’ve been awfully quiet?“ Rae asks, causing me to jolt in my seat from where I’ve been reading my chat for the past five minutes, my mic muted.

I quickly unmute to reply, blushing ever so slightly, “Um, sorry I was reading my chat. What do I think about what?”

“The gesture of giving flowers to your significant other, is it romantic or a waste of money and plant murder?“ Rae explains, still managing to catch me off-guard with her question.

I ponder what my response should be for a little bit before deciding to level it to a neutral level where I almost sound indifferent, “It is in fact plant murder basically and artificial flowers would definitely be a better gift - plus they’ll last longer.”

“Mhmm yeah that’s true.“ Poki agrees with me, “But there’s still the question of whether it’s a romantic gesture or not. I personally don’t think it’s overrated or cheesy, I actually quite like it. What about you, Y/N?“

And now she’s got me in a real trap that I can’t wiggle out of without speaking my truth. I don’t know where this sudden anxiety around the subject came from but it now resides within me rent free and makes me feel self-conscious and embarrassed of the confession I’m inevitably make.

“Um, I wouldn’t know for certain, I’ve never received flowers myself...“ I say sheepishly, cringing at the sound of my own voice, “It’s not like I’ve dated plenty of people and the one guy I did date wasn’t really romantic or anything, I mean - we were teenagers, after all. But when I think about it in theory I think I’d like the gesture: it’s thoughtful, plus you get a temporary but beautiful piece of décor out of it.“

I’m gonna hope I didn’t sound too pitiful or desperate. Of course I’m not gonna check afterward on the stream cause I’d rather live in the illusion of having sounded humorous rather than be given the confirmation that I didn’t.

“Wait, wait, wait, did you date your last boyfriend like a decade ago?“ Corpse is now the one talking and that makes me feel even more anxious. This is not the impression one would want to give to their crush, is it? Oh well, no turning back now.

“Correct.“ I reply with a laugh that I hope didn’t sound as nervous as it was.

“And you’ve never, like in your whole life, received flowers from someone?“ He sounds astonished which sort of makes me want to shrink up in my shell like a turtle. Too bad I don’t have a shell though. I’m genuinely thinking of the option to rip the router out of the outlet right now to save me the troubles but I’m not that immature. I’m surprised I’m even reacting this way - this topic doesn’t usually bother me at all but now for some reason I’m red as a tomato and shrinking in my chair. 

I know what the obvious answer is but I’d rather die than admit to it.

“Yeah, yeah, I know it sounds bad but I really don’t care.“ I make an attempt at changing the subject, swerving it back to the main topic rather than my lack of a love life, “I do, in fact, find the gesture sweet - it adds vibrancy to the relationship just like the flowers would add vibrancy and color to the space they’re put in.“

“Oh my gosh, that’s such a cool analogy!“ Rae gushes, “You’re totally right, it might be an old trick, but it’s aged like fine wine.“

Phew, God bless you Rae.

“Exactly, exactly.“ Corpse agrees as well but I don’t think he’s fully heard what Rae said since he sounds to have fallen in deep thought.

At least I got away with it with only making a SLIGHT nervous wreck of myself.

Yikes, was that horrible, though I don’t people will remember it for long. Sure, my fans have sent me thousands of lovely messages and pictures of bouquets and will maybe continue sending them for another day or two - which I highly appreciate, don’t get me wrong. I’m severely touched by this gesture of theirs and it almost makes me glad I finally ‘came clean’ about my romance-less life - however, it’ll fade overtime. I mean, who the heck cares if I’m single or not?

As I pour the milk over my cheerios which I’ve been snacking on dry for the past half hour as I rifled through the many notifications clogging up my lock screen, I hear the doorbell ring. I’m understandably puzzled by this, seeing as how I never get visitors so that doorbell rings only when I’ve ordered something, be it takeout or a random item off Amazon. However, I can’t remember ordering anything, at least not anything that should be arriving at the moment or even anytime soon - that glow-in-the dark curtain isn’t supposed to arrive until next week.  I make my way to the door, unbothered by the fact I’m still in my pajamas, and take a look through the peephole.

It’s a delivery guy...and he happens to be holding a huge-ass bouquet.

“What the...“ I mutter to myself as I unlock and swing open the door in the blink of an eye, “Hi?“

“Hi there, are you Y/N L/N?“ The delivery guy, who I’ve seen many times before and who I’m on pretty friendly terms with, asks me jokingly, sending a wink my way.

“I sure am.“ I reply, my gaze fixated on the breathtaking flowers he’s holding, “But those can’t be for me, that’s for sure.“

He fishes looks at his clipboard one more time, nodding before he looks back at me, “I double and triple checked, Y/N, they’re for you. Here, have a look if you don’t believe me.” He turns the clipboard  for me to see and he is actually telling the truth. I mean, I doubt he’d have any reason to lie to me but mix-ups happen all the time.

“Um, ok thanks. Sorry for the halt, it’s just...I’d hate to be the recipient of the flowers meant for another girl.” I apologize as I take the bouquet for him, still in awe of the fact I’m the one it was made and meant for and sent to.

I say a quick ‘bye’ to the delivery guy before practically running inside to inspect this bouquet for a card from the sender. I have my guesses: it has to be someone who was present during the stream last night and someone who knows my address. Hopefully it’s someone from my friend group and not a fan who watched the stream and just happens to know my address. I’d still appreciate the gesture, but I’d also install security cameras if that was the case.

Something about the color scheme of the flowers - pink and black - gives me Rae vibes since she constantly teases me about my aesthetics contradicting each other. But then again, Poki does it too so it could be her as well....

Oh...OH GOD IT’S NEITHER OF THEM

                                                               ~ ~ ~

I’ve been sitting here, keeping myself a safe distance from my phone so I’m not the first one to send her a text. So I don’t ask if she got what I sent her. So I don’t ask what she thought of it, how the bouquet looks in her living room, how it smells, how it makes her feel. I have so many questions so that phone is best off at a major distance from me. I’m the one who’s better off with such a huge distance between me and the device, to be perfectly honest.

Was it a bad idea? Should I have slept on it - or just thought about it longer cause sleep and I don’t get along? Should I have at least waited a day or two? Should I-

My phone vibrates with a notification and I practically fly to it from across the room, grabbing it and unlocking it asap. My heart sinks and takes off like a rocket simultaneously when I see I’ve been tagged in Y/N’s Instagram story. I nervously tap the notification that sends me to the picture of the bouquet I sent her with some text written over it.

“Thank you, Romeo ;)“

Somehow that one sentence answers all those aforementioned questions.

Is this what people refer to as butterflies in one’s stomach? Cause it feels significantly more like a crush...oh wait.

@maat-the-prescriptive  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @itsminniekat  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams @solowheein  @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01  @buddyemily   @the-albino-lioness  @stardream14  @gdhdkfnn  @nomadicgypsyy  @preciousskye  @fluffysuicideunicornsworld  @o-kaelin  @manacharlotte  @awkward-youtube-trash  @lolalee24  @bonky-beerns  @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian  @strawbrinkofdeath  @teenloves  @tams0527  @browneyespinkhair  @starstruckllamapuppy  @daisychains012  @y0ulooked  @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life  @jula-pauline  @melodykitty  @just-that-bi-girl  @crazybutconfidentaf  @lowellshade @alphakees  @bellero  @weallneednamjesus  @starryhanji  @boiled-onionrings  @husherstan  @fockingwhore  @melaningoddessthings  @prettypastelpetals  @haleypearce  @godwhyamiawkward  @y-napotat  @daisychainyoonmin  @little-miss-rebel3  @free-wheelin-bi-sexual  @redmoon261 @darkacademic2  @wiseflamingoqueen  @into-the-end  @namikhai-i  @nastiablr  @thelittleplantlover  @mirktuan  @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny  @vintagegothlover  @easygoingtheatre  @itsrandombooklover  @miiaivi  @emmybaybee  @befourgolden  @jjk-is-my-shit  @eternalteaaars  @spacebadgerx  @princesslunalight  @acequinn14  @samm48  @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa  @fo-love  @marishimomura-blog  @therealglenncoco  @cinnamonbun332  @killtherandomness  @sanshinexxxsan  @fee-btheweeb  @press-lay  @cathleenpotgieter16  @jazzydoesstuff  @moonlxghtbay  @forestrain2000  @hyunjinhugs  @blood-of-fandoms  @lovellylies  @ukiyolixx  @simpforhpcharacters  @chrisdylan17  @parkerjisung  @pedernille  @theodonyous  @wineandionysus  @malfoystilinskii05  @morbid-x  @coryisagee  @jessewa26  @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365  @raeanneinwonderland  @indecisive-empanada  @gluttonypalace  @loriane2503  @btsiguess-kpop  @khaoticbunny  @lucidlycactus  @smiithys  @rottenroyalebooks  @kpopgirlbtssvt  @fangirl-tc27  @fr0z3n-1  @notmesimpingfortechno  @shotarosleftpinky  @kunoi-chan  @idk-whats-wrong-with-me  @yikeroonie  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @poetry-and-tea  @ama-do-writing-stuff  @wishbonewolf  @emeraldxhope  @t0xick1tty  @kusuinko  @speakyourselfloveyourself  @sophia902103  @lo-manburg  @classsykittykat  @dmgama  @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee  @btsiguess-kpop  @akaashi-baby  @gun-jong-simp  @geschichtenfee  @yerapotato-wp  @browneyedgirl365  @thysagclub  @sparklycloudnight  @helloatomicshadow  @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal  @lucy-bunny17  @aaliyahh0  @katluckybear  @boyleanti  @straybids  @franchesca-791  @cosmicstorm19  @averyisbackinthetrashcan  @aomi-nabi  @xlanawriter  @allensimpsforcorpse  @sunnyrae-cessh  @ladykxxx08  @meowiemari  @renupf  @booklover76

#corpse husband #corpse husband fanfic #corpse #corpse fanfic #corpse fic #corpse fluff #corpse fanfiction #corpse fandom #corpse x reader #corpse x you #corpse x y/n #corpse imagines #corpse imagine #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fanficiton #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband fanfiction #corpse husband fluff #corpse husband fic #corpse husband imagine #corpse husband is ruining my life #corpse simp #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #fandom #fluff #fan #request #requests open

[svchengss]

two halves | l.mh

PAIRING. mark lee x reader

GENRE. fluff, heavy angst

WARNINGS. major character death, grief

WORD COUNT. 2.4k

SUMMARY. right after his death, mark watches how you cope with the loss

A/N. i saw this one tiktok and it kinda inspired me to write this

// just to let you guys know, reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !! thank you for reading :D

white walls, white room.

mark scrunched his face, his eyelashes slowly fluttering open, the dark brown iris adjusting the size of the pupils due to the brightness of the walls reflected upon it. a soft groan vibrating from his throat, he assessed his surroundings where nobody or nothing else is present. he looked down to inspect his clothing, hoping that it would give him any clue of this room or space he’s in - an all white outfit. this scene looks exactly like the one in the movies where the characters realize they are dead. except this time, he really is.

THE REALIZATION.

the muffled sounds of cries and sobs rang through his eardrums, triggering a reflex to wake up from the state that he thought was a slumber. he is lying on the hospital bed with the light blue clothing piece, faint light illuminating the space where people are huddled up around him. he waved his right hand in the air to let them - who he later remembered as his family members and friends, know that his eyes are already open. nobody moved even the slightest, the atmosphere being very much dead, scent of medicine intoxicating his mind.

then he saw someone who he holds very dear to his heart - you, enter the hospital room, dropping onto her knees as soon as she saw his state of condition. in an instant, he shot up from his lying position and ran over towards the crying you, shoulders shaking and all. bringing his hands to hold you in his embrace, not even a glance spared by you brought a hundred and one questions to him. why didn’t anybody acknowledge him when he woke up? why can’t you feel his touch?

“mark lee. time of death, 10:23 pm,” the tall doctor with glasses rested on the bridge of his nose announced before leaving the room, holding the clipboard close to his chest. mark gauged the monitor screen next to the bed, the line indicating his heartbeat is no longer showing spikes going up and down - instead becoming a flat line, deafening beep present with it. then he sees himself still laying on the white sheets, eyes still closed and no signs of breathing evident. a surge of panic rushed through his veins.

this can’t be real.

mark rushed into the bathroom, a surprised gasp leaving his lips. his body is semi-transparent, the shape of the toilet bowl can be seen through his left shoulder. his body shakes with terror, slapping himself in the cheeks multiple times just to make sure that this whole fiasco is just a nightmare.

oh my god. no, this is real.

mark stood in the back of the crowd, witnessing the funeral of someone and that someone being him. of course, he’s never expected to get the sight of his own service. his mother is standing beside you, her hands rubbing circles onto your back in an attempt to calm your mourning state. you’re still looking ever so pretty, a black chiffon dress on your body with white pearl necklace on your collarbones and your wavy black hair hanging down your shoulders. not that anybody else would notice, it’s someone’s death after all.

“stay strong, y/n. he will always be in our hearts,” the same rhythm of sentence in tones full of pity being directed towards you. mark’s sister enveloped you into a warm hug despite the chilly atmosphere, whispering comforting words into your ears before getting into the family’s car. you’re not going back home, not yet when you still feel reluctant to let him go.

“why did you leave me?” the only coherent words from your hoarse voice can be heard. mark, who is crouching next to you, is holding his tears back. instead, he sends a sorrowful smile - not that you can see him anyway. is there any way to let you know of his presence?

“goodbye, love. i’ll see you tomorrow. i promise,” you dusted the back of your dress from any dirt or debris, leaving a rose on his tombstone. the thing is, he doesn’t want to part from you. and that’s why his figure is seated beside you in the cab. he grazed his thumb on your knuckles, making you feel tingles rushing through. you pushed the slight thought away, you must be tired to be feeling things.

you slowly opened the door to your apartment, you and mark’s to be exact. the whole house is making those memories make their presence in the back of your head again. the kitchen where you two baked cookies for christmas last year. the bedroom where you snuggled upon his chest, not wanting to start your day just yet. the piano where he sang those cheesy songs for you. the living room where you slow danced at 3 in the morning. his favourite mug resting on the countertop, probably will not be used again. this whole situation is too overwhelming for you. you feel weak.

with each day passing by, you didn’t even miss one without a visit to his resting lot. you would tell him stories of how your day went or something that you read which would made him ponder. the words carved on it are already etched onto your brain.

mark lee. a son, a brother and a loving partner.

the clock hanging on the grey wall has it’s arms stretched out to display the time - two in the morning. you can’t sleep just yet, not having any for the past few days even. dark circles are appearing around your eyes, not yet recovered from the puffiness from all the crying. mark’s heart aches everytime he takes upon your state. he feels very guilty, not that death was his choice after all. it’s simply fate, a cycle of life, a destiny that every single creature on this planet will end up with.

you’ve taken the whole month off work, still feeling ever so helpless. in fact, you can’t even remember the last time you’ve stepped out of the apartment, the night before his passing perhaps? you’ve completely shut yourself out from any interactions - deactivating your social media, not accepting any calls. you just need time to heal.

as if you’re being controlled by some type of mastermind, you shoot up on the balls of your feet, pulling away from the couch. those images of you slow dancing with mark, hands in each other’s holds, your chin rested in the crook of his neck and being ever so engrossed in love are coming back more often now. you trudged to the vinyls arranged neatly on the shelf, picking one before placing it on the turntable - frank sinatra, one of his all time favourites.

holding your hands up at about his usual height, you start twirling around. you can almost see the outline of his smile, his features right in front of you. except, he is. he’s been observing your moves the whole night. mirroring your current position, as if you can really see him, it’s a miracle for him. overjoyed actually, he doesn’t realize the salty tears streaming down his cheekbones and so are yours.

“thank you for coming, dear. it’s a pleasure seeing you in what, weeks?” a laugh escaped the woman’s lips. you reciprocated her hug before stepping into the living room. it’s been a long time since you’ve been here, was it in january? mrs. lee had invited you over for a simple dinner, checking up on how you’ve been. you can see that the family is still struggling over his passing, the way his sister’s eyes are not twinkling as usual makes it hard to cover up the lie.

“you see, this was on his high school graduation day. he was very happy that day, doing all sorts of dances and stuff. finally escaping from hell as he said,” she giggled. she’s been displaying all sorts of memoirs to you, photo albums and photographs scattered on the wooden floor. to be honest, you’ve never seen these before. all smiles mark lee, easy to notice among the crowd. not that he’s changed, he’s still that boy now. mark just sat on the couch - his favourite spot, observing the throwback session going on. if he’s still here, his sister for sure is going to tease the hell out of him.

“he told us so much about you, you know? as if everything reminds him of you, that boy is lovestruck. really,” that sudden confession made your tongue dry, unable to find a perfect response. you were really that special to him.

“drive safe honey, you can come over whenever you want. you know you’re always welcome here, right?” mrs. lee handed you the small box filled with some things you’re going to keep. she kissed both of your cheeks, mr. lee standing behind her giving you a small wave. a small smile crept up onto your face before igniting the engine, turning your wheels out of the housing area.

the netflix show is playing on the television, the faint voices of the characters playing in the background. you’re sitting on the floor, flipping through the photo journal you two decorated throughout your one year of relationship. you can see his little scribbles and doodles, often a little dinosaur symbolising your always grumpy personality.

in one photo, a golden birthday hat is nicely placed on your head with him kissing your right cheek. you remember clearly, a surprise party for you last year. in the following ones, they are mostly candid shots - you blowing out the candles while he looks at you full of love, him eating a portion of your dish while you pout your lips. you would say it was the night of your life, spending it with the guy who stole your heart.

the next page of the journal is a shot of mark taking a photo of you in the park. you suppose it was taken by donghyuck? that one picture of you was stuck as his lock screen wallpaper for a while, you remembered getting so embarrassed over it. mark would give you the same excuse every time you questioned him about it, implying that the sight of you would light up his whole day. cheesy really, but that was what remained as memories of the past, tied neatly in your heart.

the rain trickling against your window eventually made you doze off to wonderland, creating the perfect chance for mark to browse through the journal in your hands. carefully lifting it from yours so that you won’t be stirred from your sleep, he settled down in the space beside your sleeping figure. slowly turning the pages, he smiled fondly at each photo holding a thousand moments that can’t be recreated ever again. some of them would make him giggle. he kneeled down slightly to place a soft kiss on your forehead, making you squirm a little due to the faint touch.

“give him a chance. i’m not saying that you should forget mark but it’s been months, you should live up a little,” yerim’s voice sounding concerned from the other end of the line. perhaps she’s right but you just need more time. but how much longer? you’re afraid you yourself have no specific answer for that enquiry.

you’ve been feeling better by now, welcoming people back into your life and carrying out the same daily routine of yours. going to work, buying groceries, going to the drive-thru and whatnot. of course, the void is still obvious - coming back home to an empty atmosphere instead of him waiting for you on the couch, sometimes dozing off, no more weekend cafe runs. but at least you’re trying your best. you bid your goodbyes before tapping the red button, ending the call. plopping the device onto the mattress, you stared at the white ceiling, deep in your own thoughts.

you should give him a chance. live up a little.

yes, you should.

getting hold of the phone and immediately opening the messages app, you searched for jungwoo’s number. he’s been trying to take you out for dinner for a while now. you still remember his exact words, whenever you’re ready he’s always there, waiting for you. you’re not really sure about that particular question but it wouldn't hurt to give it a try, right?

typing in the words ‘okay, sure’ is already a pressure for you but you still proceeded to press the send button. glancing at the clock showing the time, the notification ping redirected your focus onto the screen.

jungwoo: cool, is tomorrow night okay with you? i’ll drive, of course :)

tomorrow night. okay, tomorrow night.

an elegant red gown is wrapping your curves perfectly, a thin necklace with the seashell charm around your neck while your lips is decorated with the dark red tone, highlighting your poise appearance. hearing the doorbell ring, you tidied up the dresser as your eyes landed onto the picture frame holding a photo of you and mark. a sad feeling crept into your heart but you pushed it away, opening the door to reveal jungwoo in a black and white tuxedo.

you would say that the dinner went well, none of his questions or chatters crossing any borderline. he’s just so polite, even you are amused. feeling comfortable with his presence, the small gap in between is eventually closing down since you’ve learned so much about each other during the other few dates. one night completely changed it for you, him offering you a dance at some event he’s bringing you with.

you observed that his moves are slightly similar to mark’s - not completely of course, mark’s is very unique and very…mark-ish. for the first time ever in the recent turn of events, you flashed a genuine smile. one that is not just for show, one that only comes out when you’re truly elated, one that you only manage to give to certain. mark just observed the scene from a distance, admiring how you’ve managed to find the spark of happiness you once lost.

alas, mark saw his other half become full again with another, her eyes twinkling with the same joy but this time, it’s not him in the reflection.

#neoturtles #pretty-neos #ankathia #nshitty-frathouse #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct angst #nct 127 imagines #nct dream imagines #nct 127 #nct dream #nct mark #mark lee #mark imagines #mark scenarios #mark fluff #mark angst #kpop fluff #kpop angst #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #superm imagines #superm scenarios #nct x reader #mark x reader #nct

[tennessoui]

50 but its Obi-Wan tired and stressed going through a messy divorce who mets ray of sunshine Anakin ❤

This is basically the Prologue to the story of how Homeowner Obi-Wan Adopts Two Children and A Husband Without Realizing It

50. Going Through a Divorce (Divorced!Obi-Wan)

Buy a house, they had said. You have a wife. You should have a house, they had said. The market is in your favor right now, they had said. This area is nice. Good for kids if that’s something you’re thinking about. Buy a house.

No one ever told Obi-Wan what to do if your wife divorces you and moves out, but the house is legally in your name and the weight of the mortgage is slowly killing you because while you’re a great English professor, you don’t exactly get paid a commission for how many kids decide to take your class after looking at your chili pepper score on Rate My Professor.

Obi-Wan sits in his study with the windows shut and the door closed. It’s the only room in the house that doesn’t feel like something’s glaringly missing. Every other place held at least a few of Satine’s possessions, and if he leaves the shelter of this one final safe haven, he knows himself well enough to know that he’ll prod at all those little absences the way a tongue ghosts over the pit left by a lost tooth.

But this study has always been his, and it still feels like it now. And while the house is, arguably, also still his and has always been, it feels too big now. Too empty.

He is not enough for the house either, it seems.

Obi-Wan snorts at the thought and pours himself a drink. He’s getting maudlin in his old age. Sentimental. What he should be doing is thinking of the logistics going forward, although he knows few. How To Get Divorced was never something they taught in schools, nor something he had thought to be in his future.

How To Pick Up The Pieces of Your Shattered Heart had been a tough lesson to learn a year ago when his wife--ex-wife now--had broached the topic of separation. Separation, as if that wasn’t simply a long-drawn out end. She hadn’t taken that criticism lightly, nor should she have. Their ensuing fight had only ended when she had gasped wetly through her tears and told him, “See? Who are we anymore? I don’t want to fight anymore, Obi.”

To which Obi-Wan had said, of course, “Don’t call me that.” and Satine had left without another word. Given enough time to reflect upon her argument, he did find the logic in it. They’d married young and then changed in ways that couldn’t click together. Obi-Wan would have been fine with continuing to try to force them to work, but Satine had never been one to hate herself in that way.

The papers had come on a rainy day in October. The love had stayed on, unwelcome and bitter and agonizing in turn, well into April. Now it’s autumn again, and Obi-Wan has a house that’s too big for just him and no wife or partner or lover to fill its gaps.

There’s a loud ping of his phone that brings him out of his thoughts. It’s a message from Quinlan, just a link. Obi-Wan almost doesn’t click it, not in the mood for a funny video or in-depth but frightfully out-of-touch opinion on a recent movie. Then Quinlan texts again. I know you like your blondes fiery is all he says, and now Obi-Wan has to know.

He touches the link and it takes him to a posting on a website dedicated to finding roommates. The text loads slowly, probably because there’s a lot of it.

IN NEED OF ROOMMATE ASAP the title screams. Reflexively, Obi-Wan checks the time-stamp, but this was posted only a day ago. His heart warms at the idea of Quinlan checking this website trying to solve Obi-Wan’s problem of the mortgage for him.

Then he keeps reading.

Hi, I’m Anakin, 26, it reads. Working in tech right now--should make any sort of income required. Recently and unexpectedly kicked out of my place. Parent of two toddlers, but they’re angels (separately)! They are past the point of drawing on walls and they are potty-trained. Would be willing to put down a pet deposit but no pets, just the twins. Being evicted in the next five days so desperately need place. Twins’ mom could take twins while I move out and then move in but she can’t have them longer than a couple of weeks because of her job.

Also full disclosure, I have to move out because I “assaulted” my landlord! He was being a creep about my friend and touched her without her consent. I’m not actually a violent person and will not hit you! Just if you call my landlord for a tenant reference, he won’t be nice. He’ll be very, very biased.

Before twins can move in, I will need to run a background check on you as well just to make sure you’re not a creep (creeps DNI)

Let me know if you’re interested!

(Please give me a chance.)

There’s a couple of pictures at the bottom, just after the man’s phone number and email. One depicts a smiling, attractive man, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans with a young child on each hip. The next is a close-up of the kids in fancy clothing, probably to prove that they’re not messy. The girl is scowling at the camera while the boy is crying though, so the overall effect is ruined. Still, Obi-Wan finds iit endearing. The last picture is Anakin’s mugshot, the man in question looking decidedly which makes Obi-Wan snort. He appreciates the level of honesty and loyalty Anakin’s clearly showing.

But this is a lot.

Obi-Wan hasn’t started to look into the option of finding a roommate to lessen the burden of his mortgage payments. And to jump straight to a man with a violent past and his two small children?

His house would be absolute chaos. He and Satine had always kept an orderly space, one that featured long bouts of quietly enjoying the other’s company from opposite ends of the living room, but there would be no quiet with two children and what he’s positive is a very lively man.

But hadn’t he just been thinking that the house was too silent now? Too empty? It would be--

Well. It wouldn’t feel like his and Satine’s house anymore. It would be unrecognizable.

Somehow he’s jotting down the number before he even realizes what he’s doing. And then he’s putting it into his phone. And then it’s ringing.

“Hello?” A distinctly masculine voice says on the other side. Obi-Wan clears his throat, suddenly unsure of what to say.

“Hi, hello yes. I’m calling about the ad you posted online yesterday?”

“What about it?” Anakin asks slowly, sounding suspicious. Obi-Wan has to fight to roll his eyes. If he hadn’t already committed himself to following through on the worst idea he’s had in years, he’d hang up at the other man’s clear distrust. He wants to berate him that this is not how you sell yourself to potential homeowners, but that isn’t his place.

“My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi,” he says instead. “And I fear I may be your only hope.”

#asks #my fics #narrators voice: it was not actually the worst idea he's had in years #but he was truly anakins only hope #this was self-indulgent fun to write not serious at all #obikin #KUWSK #prompt fill