#and i feel like i was actually like looking forward to this or something but he was just like nah whatever and doesn't rly care
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Helpless to the bass and faded light
About when she bribes you and you dance with her like a filled stadium isn't looking
》 Leah Williamson x Reader
》 words count: +1k
》 she took my arm / I don't know how it happened / we took the floor and she said
You don’t like football.
It’s quite a boring game if you stop to think about it for a moment. Two dozen and counting people running around a ball trying to kick it into a huge net.
Not something you look forward to sit through for almost two hours.
Despite your father’s best efforts, you being his only kid and his only hope to pass down his passion, the sport never managed to interest you long enough to care.
You even found yourself in the stands of your dad’s favourite club’s home more times than you’re able to remember, going beyond yourself and cheering when the other people around you did.
The things you do to make your parents proud.
How you managed to have the English captain wrapped around your finger, regardless of your well-known dislike for her biggest passion and purpose in life, is still a mystery for your families and friends.
“Pretty please, just this one”
“Oh, shut up!”, you hit her arm and push her off you, both still naked.
You can’t believe your girlfriend is actually trying to bribe you with sex, not even waiting for you to fully recover before asking to go to the game.
“No, you ruined the mood”, you state as the blonde tries to kiss you again.
The huge grin of her beautiful face is quite dangerous, she can win you over so easily and you both know it.
Leah rises off the bed to retrieve a warm cloth from the bathroom and a clean shirt from the closet. You accept her attention, she’s always caring when it comes to you, but you’re pretty sure the extra effort has a not-so-subtle second purpose.
“You can’t buy me so easily, Williamson”
She can.
“It’s a really important game, my love”
“For who?”
“For me?”, she tries as she slots herself under your open arm, a grin hidden between your neck and the pillow.
“I barely bear you playing”
“You love watching me play”
“I love you, period”
Leah knows how much you think the sport is boring, going way out of your comfort zone just to cheer her. She feels immensely supported when she finds your big smile in the stands, wrapped in one of her jerseys.
It’s not that difficult for you to sit and admire your girlfriend in her element, focusing more on her movements and attitude than paying attention to the actual game.
What you find quite annoying is enduring Arsenal’s men’s team.
The defender’s fingers on your side are slowly soothing you in a compromising position, too relaxed and smitten to keep denying her anything. You know she doesn’t need much more to lure you into her trap and, unfortunately for you, she’s perfectly aware too.
When the blonde’s lips find the particularly sensitive spot on the base of your neck, you’re doomed.
~
You’re glad your father is already dead or you’d have killed him as you take your seat in the Emirates Stadium, surrounded by the Gunners’ colours. Your girlfriend’s name on your back could be the final nail.
The things you do to make your lover happy.
“You know I love you, right?”
“You better never forget this”, you quip back.
The English captain has been looking forward to this game for weeks now, you couldn’t have been able to turn her down in spite of it all.
She doesn’t need to know though, that you didn’t accept to spend one of your date nights watching the North West London derby for free.
“Maybe you will enjoy it at the end”
Nice try, you will not.
“You know, my dad was a West Ham supporter”
“Could have been worse”, she smiles at you, reaching for your hand.
Talking about your father is getting easier as time finally moves forward and your grief keeps changing its shape. Compared to the abyssal black hole it felt like the first year and a half, of its progress.
Leah didn’t meet him, crushing in your life a couple of months after his passing, but she managed to find a space in your heart that keeps growing despite all your fears.
They could have hit so well, bonding over their shared passion for the sport and their never-ending determination to make you happy.
You told her some stories about him, mostly memories to make your girlfriend understand how stubborn and passionate he was about the thing he cared about.
The one thing you all have in common.
“Yeah, he used to gift me a West Ham jersey every year on Bobby Moore’s birthday”
Leah’s laugh managed to overcome the buzzing atmosphere of the stadium, making you feel like she was the reason all the people around you were cheering. You sure think so.
“He sounds like an incredible father”
“Football obsession aside, he was good”
When you turn to look at her, the blonde’s eyes are already on you and the smile on her face is enough to warm your heart.
~
The first goal coming within five minutes has you quite engaged in what’s happening on the pitch, you even drag your girlfriend in a kiss as you both rise from your seats to celebrate.
Your commitment declined quite easily after that, more entertained by Leah’s reactions than the actual game. You nod in amusement every time she tries to talk you through one of her analyses, placing a hand on her thigh to stop her from standing up every time the ball is somehow close to the box.
The second half is more eventual, at least that’s what you can understand by the excitement the defender and the people in the stands around you seem to radiate.
You’re not clueless, you’re perfectly aware a five-nil win against Chelsea is quite the result. You care enough to think you can’t wait to go home - Leah is always in the mood for a private celebration when her team triumphs, especially over another London club.
“Can we go now?”, you ask as soon as the referee whistles three times, declaring the end of your and the Blues’ torture.
Leah’s happiness is contagious, so you’re not mad when she drags you in her arms to join her cheers and enthusiastic dance. It takes you less than a second to indulge her, letting the blonde spin you around and matching her excitement.
When she dips you and seals the move with a kiss the laugh that rises out of you is genuine and loud.
At first, neither of you notice the stadium’s camera pointed in your direction, recording your little moment of pure bliss in each other’s arms.
Looking back at it, as all your friends sent you the viral video, you know Leah saw you two on the big screen and went along with her little cocky display of affection and excitement for the victory.
You’re sure your father could be laughing at it too, despite the colors you’re wearing.
fine.
#woso x reader#leah williamson x reader#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso community#lw6#woso#here we are#short and sweet#i hope you enjoy it
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somewhere in the back of your mind, you know this isn’t how it should be.
your living room is dimly lit, illuminated only by the tv in front of you, and the moon is glowing a pearlescent blue. flimsy strings of moonlight spill over your floorboards, reflecting off the windows, and whatever you’re doing isn’t what you should be doing. you shouldn’t be awake this late, shouldn’t be gorging on sweets before bed, shouldn’t be having a rendezvous with an enemy — shouldn’t be watching movies with your ex of ten years.
most of all, you shouldn’t be feeling nearly this content.
getō is seated right beside you, legs comfortably spread, popping a macaron into his mouth. chewing it slowly, savouring the flavour — or lack thereof, you suppose. he can’t taste much, anymore; one too many curses digested. or so he says.
this time, he brought pastries with him. expensive ones, you can tell, just from the package alone — a soft pastel pink box, wrapped up in silk, golden letters etched into the front. mont blancs, macarons, two slices of strawberry shortcake. carefully picked, suited to your tastes.
(you aren’t actually too fond of sweets, anymore, but how is he to know? he hasn’t seen you in years.)
”would you like me to make us some tea?”
when you turn your gaze towards him, getō’s wearing a smile. laid-back, the slightest upward curl, tilting his head in a manner you’re far too used to. eyes shining with something keen. somehow, it feels difficult to tear your gaze away from his.
but you manage, turning forward, grasping control over your sleepy vocal cords. ”no, i’m good.”
a low hum. he’s still looking at you. ”coffee?”
”the sweets are more than enough.”
this time, a smile, one you can’t see but still somehow sense. a little bit amused. geto gazes at you with a knowing look, watches you glance at the box of pastries on your coffee table — studying you under the monochrome flicker of the tv-screen.
”understood,” he finally quips, leaning back into the leather couch, exhaling a little breath. ”eat as much as you’d like. i bought them for you, you know.”
you nod, nibbling at a macaron. not glancing his way.
being alone with him still feels a little awkward. a little tense, to be curled up on the same couch, watching the same movie, just like your old sleepovers in high school. there’s an elephant in the room that neither of you have addressed — not since he first showed up, just a couple weeks ago, waltzing up to your apartment with a plastic bag of dvds after a decade of estrangement. wearing heavy robes, and a familiar smile. asking to be let in.
and despite every single circumstance telling you not to, you did just that. you’ve yet to refuse.
(satoru would hate you, if he knew.)
so he’s there, right beside you, and you don’t talk about it. not his choice, not your work, not anything except the movie playing on the screen in front of you. this time, it’s one he’s seen before — beautiful, he called it, and for once you think it might be a romance; if the kiss between the main actors is anything to go by.
you wonder if that’s why he says it.
”say, do you hate me?”
you still. freezing in place, for a moment, discontent but not surprised. he’s always been like this; breaking the illusion of peace before you can find any solace in it.
you bite back a groan, and shoot him a glance out of the corner of your eye — but he isn’t looking at you. only at the tv, at the two men, holding hands and standing on a bridge in the rain, watching the stars twinkle in the sky. and you sigh, turning your head to look at him fully, parting your lips. your voice comes out frustrated.
”do you really want to have this conversation now?”
”when else?” he chuckles, meeting your gaze with one brow raised. amber eyes gleaming with mirth, and something else, something less practiced. ”you don’t have to answer. i’m just curious.”
you gulp down the last of the macaron, licking your lips for any leftover crumbs — unaware of how his eyes follow the movement. ”are you?”
a hum buzzes in the back of his throat, a tiny rasp. you wonder if he’s tired. ”i hadn’t expected this, you know.” he taps at his knee with the pads of his fingers, rhythmic and controlled. ”i thought it was just wishful thinking… that you’d let me come this close.”
you feel his gaze on you. it’s heavy, heavy like lead, like a loaded gun. you feel it dissect you from afar, and can’t find it in you to reach for another pastry.
”… would you have preferred being kicked out?”
”not at all.” a little grin plays at his lips, something in his voice betraying the face he’s making. ”are you avoiding the question?”
another sigh. you’re painfully aware of how resigned it sounds, spilling out into the open air, already filling with a sense of dread; any leftover nostalgia bursting at the seams. you want to tell him so many things, but every thread inside your mind feels all tangled up.
and, as always, getō beats you to the punch.
”that’s fine, too.” a brief pause, a twitch of his pinkie. he closes his eyes, a flutter of his lashes, and inhales a breath. ”— because i’ll keep waiting.”
for a second, you consider not taking the bait.
… then you’re giving in. because that’s what you always do, whenever he’s involved. you watch him in the dark, pale skin enveloped by moonlight, raven hair spilling across the headrest. he looks beautiful, just resting his eyes.
”… for what?” you whisper, and his answer comes without a hitch to his breath.
”for you to love me again.”
…
getō tilts his head, opening his eyes, a golden brown dragging you into their depths. he looks expectant, selfishly awaiting a response, and you’re tired.
(unbeknownst to you, he resists the urge to intertwine his fingers with yours, to trace every ridge and dip of your knuckles with his thumb. to squeeze your palm like a promise, something concrete.)
when your mind has managed to untangle itself, something in your gaze turns sharp. frustrated, impatient, disappointed, looking at him with a raised brow. ”you really are stupid, aren’t you?”
as fast as it came, your gaze returns to the screen in front of you. monochrome, flickering, two beautiful men. one of them is holding a gun to the other’s temple, and the victim looks appeased. the movie’s almost over.
(how very like him, to find such violence beautiful.)
quietly, you swallow down the bile building up in the back of your throat. a decade of bitter flavours. clenching your teeth, nails digging into the couch beneath you, leather on your cold fingertips. it’s a little peeled.
you wonder why you even bother being honest, when he never quite seems to return the favour.
but the room is dimly lit, and the moon is big and bright, and your ex of ten years is sitting right next to you. in your apartment, on your couch, watching a movie on your tv. when he could, should be anywhere else. he’s with you, and he pulls the words out of your throat without trying. puppeteering your heartbeat.
”… as if i ever stopped.”
silence.
you hear a gunshot ring out. low, muffled, a crackle of static. one of the men falls down to the ground, and you can’t tell who's who. the actors are forgettable, but the soundtrack is pretty. it rings in your ears like a lullaby.
getō says your name.
it sounds the same as you remember. honeyed syllables, spilling from his parted lips, silky and sweet. he says your name like he’s asking to marry you, and you can hear the smile he’s struggling to repress.
”will you look at me?”
it’s less of a question, and more of a demand. you wonder why he even bothers asking — but you’ve never really understood the way his brain works. never understood why a burglar would bother asking the shopkeeper for permission before reaching for the register, when they’ll be leaving with the money either way.
and you’re paralyzed, stuck in place on the couch, gaze glued to the screen in front of you. but you aren’t watching, not really, just looking. and you don’t want to see what kind of face he’s making. so you whisper;
”.. no.”
”no?” he mimics, something like a coo on the tip of his tongue, lightly amused. as always, you can feel his gaze, travelling down your face like a trickle of honey. ”and why is that, my dear?”
you bite down on your lip.
a long, long moment passes, and neither of you say a word. he’s looking at you, and you’re looking down at your lap, at your clenched fists. a little meek. it’s quiet, the calm before the storm, and you know exactly what’s going to happen — because it’s already set in stone.
”because you’re going to kiss me,” you exhale, finally, resignation on your breath. ”and i’m going to let you.”
…
for a second, you wonder if his silence means he understands. if he can hear the desperate plea in your voice, if he can translate it correctly.
but his fingertips graze the lines of your jaw, his palm sneaks under your chin, and he keeps you in place. turning your head to meet his gaze, his amber eyes, dripping with something hungry; something pleading.
this time, he doesn’t ask for permission. he leans forward until there’s no space between you, tips your head back, and kisses you with bated breath — as softly as he can manage, which is still too intense for your liking. still brimming with desperation, something carnal, like he wants to pour his everything into the kiss but knows he shouldn’t. he tastes like tobacco.
and it’s over.
you know it is, because your senses are flooded with him, him, him. nothing but him, the strands of his raven hair ghosting your skin, his greedy tongue licking along your teeth, large palms resting on your spine and the back of your head. you’re pliant, surrendering yourself to his touch. he’s cradling you like he loves you, and you feel like you’ve done something awful, because you have.
because you’ve let him come so close, again, invited him inside — inside of your home, your ribcage. and he won’t bother making a home for himself there, because it’s already waiting for him, untouched, between your fourth and fifth ribs.
you never bothered to get rid of it.
(that’s your sin.)
getō hums, muffled by your lips. he sounds pleased. he sounds like he’s been waiting for this for decades, and you suppose that he has. he murmurs praise that you do nothing but swallow down.
everything feels too perfect, too normal, and it’s too much, too much, too much. your lips pressed together, your chests pressed together, your noses meeting in a tender touch. you choke down the noise that threatens to push past your lips, and he kisses you like a starved man. like he’s trying to drown in you.
he only pulls away once he realizes that you’re crying, and by then it’s too late. his widening eyes don’t matter, your cold hands don’t matter, the tremble of your erratic heartbeat has never mattered less. he looks at you with remorse, and it doesn’t matter.
(he’s yours, again, and you’re his.
you can’t stop crying.)
”… i’m sorry.”
in the background, you hear the sound of gentle whispers, an ending scene. the men are talking to each other, speaking softly, and your eyes burn with tears. geto catches one of them with his forefinger, and leans forward to plant a kiss against your nose. chaste, this time. still mumbling apologies.
it doesn’t matter, because a tiny sob still breaks past your throat — and you know the sound must hurt him.
you hate that. you hate that you always hurt him, hate that you care, hate that you feel nothing but guilt when he’s around. you hate the movie still playing to your left, hate that he doesn’t hate it, hate that he loves you. hate that you love him, that you probably always will.
you hate that you blink up at him with glassy eyes, swallow down a shaky breath, and kiss him again. hate that it’s still the only thing you know how to do well.
he doesn’t pull away, only biting back a noise of surprise — but he makes sure to kiss you gently, as if you’re made of porcelain, slow and tender, cradling you closer still. he wipes away your tears with his thumb, one after another, and you hate yourself because everything feels so deliriously right.
somewhere in the back of your mind, you know that what you’re playing is a losing game.
(he’s yours, and you’re his. it’s already set in stone.)
#geto suguru x reader#suguru geto x reader#geto x reader#geto x you#geto x y/n#geto angst#suguru geto x you#geto suguru x you#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jjk x gender neutral reader#jjk angst#jujutsu kaisen x reader#suguru x reader#suguru x you#suguru x y/n#getou suguru x reader#getou suguru x you#getou suguru x y/n
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hii! i have a request i thought of a few days ago, fem!reader x slytherin boys (mainly mattheo riddle) where they noticed something wrong with her and she lies about it and mattheo says something along the line of “cut the bullshit”
CW: cussing, Angst, insecure reader, screaming, Arguing
You've been hanging out with the Slytherins less and less, not eating with them or hanging out at Blaise's Dorm after class.
That Fact alone wouldn't be unusual. It's exam Season after all and you often spend that time holed up in your Dorm, Studying and Eating what your Roommates bring you up.
The Problem occurs when you stop coming to Sunday Hangouts.
It's not an actual Agreement or anything, but it's become a Routine never broken.
Never.
No matter what's going on, on Sunday at around 9 PM you all meet at the Greenhouse.
Mattheo's always the first there and Tom's the last.
Pansy never figured out a certain time she would arrive while Draco always turns up at exactly 9:06:56
Down to the motherfucking Second
Blaise always brings a Book he doesn't read, Theo always forgets the Snacks he's supposed to bring and brings the sweets only he likes instead, while you always bring a Sketchbook.
It's 9:34 and you're not here.
You weren't there last week but Blaise convinced the others to talk about it Today.
Mattheo was stressing about talking with you and got into an all-time high of fights all week.
Now, you're not here.
Everyone is here
Except for you
It's pissing Mattheo off and at this point, the others are just as peeved
You are in your room crying
You know you should be at the Greenhouse rn, and doing anything else feels weird
The last 3 years you have spent every Sunday at the Greenhouse
For two weeks you haven't
The Slytherins loudly knock on your door and you quickly wipe away the tears, taking a few deep breaths to seem more collected
Mattheo sees your red eyes and is immediately worried although anger quickly overcomes him
Why didn't you tell him something was wrong?
God, why can you never just talk to him??
"Oh, hi guys!"
You force a smile but they see through it
"Wtf, y/n. Where have you been, what's going on???"
"I've just been studying, you know how i get"
"Cut the crap, wtf is actually going on?"
Blaise pulls him back a bit to not make you feel cornered
Theo steps forward, missing the point of Mattheo getting pulled back "We worry!! You can't just cut contact for two weeks. We excused you not coming to hang out last week but two times in a row?!"
"Calm down guys, I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation to all of this, Right?" Pansy says, but the last words have some venom you didn't expect.
Not from her
Your best Friend
Hot tears fall from your eyes and Tom pulls Pansy to the side while Mattheo steps closer, his eyes filled with worry
"Mi Vida? Can I hug you?"
His Voice is soft and his open Arms look so inviting.
You want to step back and say no so badly when you remember the words that caused this, but you can't bring yourself to do so. Silently nodding
He wraps his arms around you in a matter of seconds pulling you as close as he can.
You can hear Blaise's annoyed voice talk the others into leaving you alone
He is the only one smart enough to realize how overwhelmed you are
One after the other they usher out
All with various amounts of Backtalk, while you and Mattheo stay still. Standing in the middle of the now empty room, Papers and Books scattered all around you, Mattheo buries his Head in your Neck.
"Wanna tell me what's wrong, baby?"
Pt. 2 with Backstory and more Angst?
#headcanon#fluff#writing#fanfic#harry potter#mattheo x reader#mattheo riddle#mattheo x you#mattheoxreader#mattheo x y/n#mattheo riddle x reader#slytherin boys react#slytherin#slytherin boys x reader
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Don't Kill My Vibe
Title: Don’t Kill My Vibe
Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI
Pairing: Clark Kent x BestFriend!Black!Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.7K
Summary: You help Clark ease the pain of his broken heart.
Warnings: mention of a breakup, recreational drug use (marijuana), friends-to-lovers trope, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie, mention of bodily fluids
A/N: This is an AU where Clark Kent is not superpowered and Superman does not exist. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.
Dividers by me
Support/Reblog banner by me
Cover Art by me
My Masterlist
It wasn’t the first time Clark asked to try some bud, but it was the most pathetic. His gorgeous blue eyes were puffy from crying over that woman. As much as you wanted to say, “I told you so," you didn’t want him to feel any worse about the failed relationship with his reporter beau, Lois Lane.
And yet again, you think to yourself, ‘Fuck Lois Lane’.
When he showed up at your place an hour ago in sweatpants, sneakers, and a button-up pullover, you were surprised to see he opted for something other than his normal flannel and jeans. His hair was mussed, and he avoided eye contact with you. Something was wrong.
You dragged him into your apartment, turning down your Spotify playlist on the Bluetooth speakers so you could talk over the mellow tunes. While you flopped down on your couch, Clark sat down slowly and sighed.
You were already elevated, having taken a couple of puffs from your blue and red glass bowl earlier, so you were struggling to pay attention to everything he was saying. You tried to put on your “I’m not high” face and nod enough, saying “Oh wow” occasionally. But, in actuality, your eyes were as red as the Devil’s dick, and Clark wasn’t stupid.
His eyes looked from yours to the tray on the coffee table that held your various assortments of smoking apparatus, grinder, lighter, and stash box. Leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees, he motioned his chin toward everything and said, “I know you’ve said no a million times, but I could use an escape. And before you say no again, know I’ve tried all the tricks in the book to get over somebody, and nothing is working.”
“I have a feeling there’s another thing you haven’t tried either, but whatever,” you rattled on, waving off his confused expression. “Fine. It should be illegal for you to use those puppy eyes when asking me for something, by the way.”
So here you are, preparing a strawberry cone for you and Clark to share. You were always weird about people using your favorite bowl. You also figure that for a first-timer, it would be the easiest for him to start with. Twisting the end after filling the cone, you reach for the lighter and ashtray.
“First things first,” you purr, using your phone to turn the music up. “Now, watch what I do. I’m going to draw the smoke into my mouth and then hold it for a few seconds, or as long as I can, before blowing it back out. Ready?”
Clark nods as he turns toward you, tucking one leg under the other. Now that you have his full attention, you suddenly feel flustered. Casting your eyes downward, you take the cone into your mouth and light the end. You inhale deeply and take it out of your mouth. Savoring the citrus flavor of the strain, your tongue licks your lips, and you exhale.
You close your eyes and take a few breaths. After a moment, you hear Clark’s voice breaking through your haze: “Everything good?”
Your eyes pop open, and just like nothing happened, you perk up. Handing him the cone, you blink as he holds it like someone who has never smoked. You’ve known Clark long enough that you have a suspicion that is probably true for him.
He’s polite, almost to a fault. He screams Boy Scout, altar boy, and ‘promise ring’ all at the same time. What can you say? Clark was a good boy. And you were getting him high. You little devil!
Clark takes a short pull from the pink-colored joint and manages to hold it for about two seconds, then attempts to exhale. A small plume escapes his mouth, he inhales sharply and has a coughing fit. You take the joint back before he drops it and sit it in the ashtray.
Rubbing his back, you try to talk him through catching his breath. You grab your water bottle and hold the straw to his mouth when he nods his thanks. He sips the water, then clears his throat loudly, burping up a bit of smoke. He laughs quickly as he sees it exit his mouth, reminding you of a little surprised dragon.
“That was fun,” he sputters, his voice deeper than usual.
“It gets easier, Clark. Trust me, coughing is normal. And most of the time, coughing gets you higher,” you laugh, picking up the joint to take another hit.
You inhale, exhaling into the air, and hold it out for Clark to take again. He sips from your water bottle and gives it to you in exchange for the joint.
Holding it between two fingers, he brings it to his lips. You watch his mouth curl around the tip, and your brain conjures up the vision of what else that boy’s mouth can do. He takes the joint out of his mouth, holding his breath for a few seconds, then blows it out slowly. He gives it back to you and leans back against the couch.
“I don’t think I feel any different yet. How long does it take to kick in?” he asks, crossing his arms and pouting.
It being his first time, he is completely unaware that he is already high. His body language is different; Clark Kent doesn’t slouch even a little. He also certainly doesn’t fidget; his hands suddenly become very interested in the material of his pullover.
“You’ll feel it sooner than you think,” you mumble, the joint between your lips as you speak.
Twenty minutes later, Clark tells you exactly what the last straw was that ended his relationship with Lois. He pauses to take a hit, handing it back to you as he exhales. “But it was always whatever she wanted. I treat her like a queen. And she goes and blows Jimmy-fucking-Olsen. Then she lies about it after Jimmy comes clean to me. I…,” he trails off, looking over at you and shaking his head as he laughs.
“What?” you question when you realize he stops talking.
“Nothing. I just… I think I’m high,” he giggles, the corners of his eyes wrinkling when he smiles at you.
“Besides being high, can you describe how you feel?” You press, wanting to know just how high he is.
“I feel lighter. Clear…er? Is it clearer or more clear? Whatever. I think I also just figured out how I want to finish that article on The Wayne Foundation,” he explains, leaning back so he is lying on his back with his head on your lap. “Is this ok? Your lap looked so comfortable,” he wonders aloud, looking up at you.
That’s when you realize three fundamental truths at the same time.
1. Clark is single.
2. Clark is literally in your lap.
3. The crush you have on Clark is swiftly turning into lustful infatuation.
Bringing yourself back to the present, you smile at him and say, “Yeah, of course it’s ok.” You focus on the heat radiating from your best friend as he makes himself comfortable so close to your thirsty pussy.
“You are the best,” he replies, closing his eyes as your hand finds its way into his curls.
“This cool?” you dare, hoping that you can continue to push the boundary between friendship and something more.
As if the groan from the back of his throat wasn’t enough, he voices his satisfaction. “More than cool. I love having my hair played with. Feel free to go to town on me.”
Oh, the importance of phrasing.
This man is not going to make it easy on you.
You’re explaining to Clark about that episode of Bob’s Burgers where Bob and Linda accidentally get high after eating cookies laced with marijuana at their accountant’s office. “So, anyway. Bob, Linda, and the accountant build a pillow fort from the cushions on his couch, and somehow it makes them feel safer which I get because pillow forts were the height of safety when we were kids. And sometimes, people feel safer thinking about the simplicity of their childhood,” you rattle on, leaning forward to grab your water bottle and forgetting about Clark’s head, which is still very much in your lap.
An oomph is spoken into your boobs, and you shoot straight up to a standing position and knock Clark off your lap and onto the floor.
“Shit!” he cries from his spot on the floor.
“Fuck, Clark! I’m so sorry! Are you ok?” You cringe, your hand touching your forehead as you watch him pull himself up.
“Hey, hey. It’s cool, I’m fine,” he reassures, his hand grabbing yours to take it away from your face. With the other hand, he grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger. Tilting your head up, he smiles and counters, “Are you ok?”
Yeah. Fine. My tits were just thrust into your face for a bit there. Oh, and you have no idea that I like you. And that pesky curl is falling into your pretty eyes again. And your handsome face is close enough to-
One second, you’re staring at his smile; the next second, you’re attacking his mouth with yours. His lips are just as pillowy and soft as they look. At first, the kiss is timid. Surprise gives way to need as he deepens the kiss. His tongue seeks solace as it slides against the seam of your lips. Granting him entry, he licks into your mouth like an explorer discovering new lands.
His hands find their way to your hips, bringing you impossibly close. He feasts on every whimper that leaves you, peppering in some moans of his own. This is the kiss of a man waiting for a moment like this. At least, that’s how it feels.
Begrudgingly, you slowly break away from Clark. His kiss-swollen pink lips beg to be reunited with yours, but you must prove this is real. You look up into his dilated eyes, noting how blue is almost completely taken over by black.
You open your mouth to speak, but Clark beats you to it.
“Unless you are about to tell me you don’t want this, please just kiss me again,” he breathes, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t know what’s more intoxicating. This drug or having you so close to me.”
Instead of worrying about what this means, you throw caution to the wind. Tilting your head, you slot your lips with his, devouring the subtle whimper that escapes him. From nervous to commanding, you feel Clark’s demeanor change as his hands wander over your body.
He picks you up by the waist, your legs instinctually wrapping around him. With you in his arms, he walks blindly to your bedroom. Once he lays you down, he covers your body with his. The hard length against your mound gives you pause, but you quickly recover as you angle your hips to meet his.
Clark breaks the kiss to sit up and remove his pullover and shirt. A pink hue dusts his cheeks as he watches you scan his torso while you bite your lip. Leaning down, he tugs at the hem of your shirt, wanting you to get rid of it.
You oblige, now topless in front of your best friend for the first time. You don’t have time to freak out over that information because Clark hooks his fingers in your leggings, his eyes begging for permission. You raise your hips, and he pulls them down your legs along with your underwear.
You sit up as he chucks his sweatpants, his heavy erection now visible. Your first thought is, “Now that is a pretty dick.”
“Thank you,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips.
“I said that out loud, didn’t I?” You wonder aloud, already knowing the answer.
Clark smiles, nodding at you before coaxing you to lay back. He sinks between your legs, holding them open to kiss your thighs. He teases you a bit, licking and nipping at your mound and outer labia until you wiggle your hips and whine.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Patience, please,” he cautions, shaking his head at you. He winks at you, diving fully into your snatch and sucking your clit between his lips.
You throw your head back in ecstasy as his tongue slides over your swollen button. Humming while sucking on your nub is a fucking power move, and your hands tangle in his hair. You dig your heels into his back as he laps up the juices that accumulate at your entrance. Looking down at him as he worships at the altar of your body, you are taken aback as he peeks up at you over your mound.
With your eyes locked on each other, he watches as he tips you right over the edge. He groans into your pussy, his mouth and chin soaked, as your walls contract around nothing. The euphoria of being high mixes with the joy of being with someone new for the first time.
But this isn’t just anybody; this was your best friend. Warmth and comfort exist between you, allowing you to feel safe enough to fall and that Clark will catch you.
You come down as he plants a kiss on your mound, grazing his lips up your tummy. When he is back above your face, he runs the tip of his dick across your wet folds. He maintains eye contact while he slides in for the first time.
Once he is fully seated inside you, he lets you adjust to his size before he withdraws slightly and thrusts forward. The wet squelch of your pussy and the smack of your bodies against one another are music to your ears. Clark’s grunts as he fucks into you only fuel your impending second climax.
“Fuck, you feel so good. Too good. Not going to last long,” he warns, sitting up on his knees as his hands go to your waist. Throwing his head back, he growls and picks up the pace, using your body like his personal fucktoy.
Your back arches as he repeatedly hits that hidden bundle of nerves. A searing fire erupts in your belly as your cunt clamps down on his dick, spasming and coating it with your cream.
“Good girl! That’s it. Fucking come for me, just like that,” he encourages. “Oh, shit. I’m right fucking behind you. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuuck.”
You lock your legs around his waist, keeping him right where he is as his dick spasms and fills you to the brim. Your hands smooth down his big chest, feeling the muscles ripple as he comes down from what is probably the most intense orgasm he has ever felt. He stills soon enough, breathing back to normal as his softening length slips from you.
Flopping down next to you, Clark wraps an arm around you. You curl into his side, an arm across his stomach, and a leg thrown over his. Contented silence fills the room as you both take in this unforeseen turn of events.
Clark’s hand makes idle patterns on your back as you lay on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. You close your eyes for only a moment, missing Clark smiling at you. He gives you a quick peck on the top of your head, causing you to tilt your head to meet his eyes.
“You hungry?” you guess, feeling a bit peckish yourself.
“Yes!” he exclaims.
“Good. I know a great place down the street that makes the best samosas. Does Indian food sound good?” you ask, already tasting the rich spices of the food.
“Sounds perfect,” he says, picking up his arm to let you get up from the bed to grab your phone, watching your hips sway as you walk out to the other room.
Once back in bed, you order various dishes for the both of you. While you wait for the food, you pass a joint back and forth and steal a kiss or two. You decide there is plenty of time for you and Clark to talk. There is no use in killing the vibe for heavy stuff.
With the way Clark is looking at you, there’s not much to talk about anyway.
🍃The End🍃
A/N: I would love to know what you think!!! Feedback is appreciated!
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──★ bf! riize : how they would kiss you
warnings. suggestive content
# SHOTARO
he’s a gentle kisser. he’d wrap his arms around your waist as you both immerse yourself into the kiss. he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable which is why he’d start off slow, but once realizes the signals you’ve been giving him, he won’t hesitate in going further with you.
# EUNSEOK
he likes to tease you first. he’ll peck your lips instead of actually going in first. he would then interlock his lips with yours when you start sulking at him because he’s not kissing you properly. he definitely will move you guys towards the bedroom and lock the doors but then suddenly stop and smile at you. “you’re desperate aren’t you? but not today baby~”
# SUNGCHAN
waist grabber 100% and will pull you closer to him. he’s the type to enjoy hearing you let out “beautiful sounds” while kissing him. he’s quite the opposite of eunseok and shotaro, and instead would go right in for the kiss and be straight forward with you. but of course, he knows your limits and knows when to stop. but if he knows you’re enjoying him, he’ll move up a notch.
# WONBIN
he starts off slowly with you. you would think he’s a gentle kisser like shotaro, but don’t let him fool you. at first he’ll be a little shy and awkward but he knows how to kiss you and get you blushing when he adjusts to the mood. don’t let his innocent looks fool you, because he quite is the opposite and would drag the kiss further, eventually leading to a small make out session. and if you guys are both in the mood…you can let your imagination run wild with this one.
# SEUNGHAN
he’s a tongue kisser definitely. he always sneaks his tongue in somehow, but you’re not complaining. he knows how to use it and knows how to make you feel good about it. whenever he kisses you, he would grab the back of your neck to pull your face closer to him. he’d also pin you to the wall if you both are really feeling it.
# SOHEE
very similar to shotaro. he’s a soft, gentle kisser and 100% smiles into the kiss. but that doesn’t mean he won’t tease you also. just as you are immersing yourself in his touch, he’ll stop and run away from you. and of course you’ll chase him, because you’re confused why he suddenly stopped kissing you. however, it’s just part of his plan and he eventually leads you to the bedroom. (you can run wild with this one too)
# ANTON
he’s shy and blushes easily while kissing you. but don’t worry, he eventually overcomes it and shows you a different side of him that no one else would see. he starts off gentle but then slowly move further and pin you down. he’ll stop mid kiss and ask you if you’re comfortable because he wants to be careful with you and make sure he doesn’t do anything wrong. after you signal him to keep going, he won’t hesitate in listening to you.
a/n help this is my first time writing something like this 😭 i apologize if this seems sloppy…dropping this before i start working on chapter 3 for awaited love ^^
#riize#riize suggestive#osaki shotaro#song eunseok#jung sungchan#park wonbin#hong seunghan#lee sohee#lee anton#riize x reader#riize imagines#riize scenarios#shotaro x reader#eunseok x reader#sungchan x reader#wonbin x reader#seunghan x reader#sohee x reader#anton x reader
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—THE WEIGHT OF BLOOD.
pairing: outlaw!farmer!141 x fem!reader
series masterlist taglist (closed.) next
contains: pov change, graphic violence, gore, reader’s husband insults her, mentions + use of knife in this chapter, reader is called a whore, implications of kidnapping, drugs.
summary: slippery floors.
wc: 4.7k
a/n: oh…
You always felt as if you were walking on eggshells with him.
It’s how you used to feel with him. When the sun was barely shining on your life and peppering your face with light, guilty, kisses.
Now that the sun is hidden by the horizon, no longer are the kisses light and guilt ridden, but they are harsh and forceful. No more are the rays hitting your skin with a warm embrace, but its replaced with a chill so unforgiving it’s like a whip against your skin.
No longer are the eggshells digging into your skin, because glass shards are piercing into your feet, digging into the flesh and staying there so that every time your once delicate, soft feet hit the floor, a wave of pain and realization washes over you.
Every step is a reminder; you’re never going to be free of him.
You let out a shaky breath and wince at your husband’s booming voice. Pointing fingers and yelling curses.
Johnny and Simon are doing little to nothing to stop him, in fact, they seem to be holding back.
Why?
Why are they holding back when your husband, James Fitzroy, is insulting their mothers? Their sisters, brothers? Them?
“We didnae do nothin’ to ye,” Johnny starts, standing in front of Simon when James gets too close for his liking. “So back the hell off.”
James scoffs with a sick smile on his face. “You didn’t do anything to me?” He spits. “Of course not, you just came into my house, and fucked my wife, is that it? Hm? Had your fill already?” He taunts, his hair flying wild.
You always loved his hair. His golden, rich dark hair, suggestive of the precious metal, mimics the beauty and luxury of his picture perfect world; compared to you however, your soul hides what’s really behind closed doors.
You shake your head to rid your mind of those thoughts. He’s not shining gold anymore, the secrets in this house are slowly coming to light. He resembles something that seems kind, but hurts you when you actually expect it, when you know it can hurt you. Like the sun.
“We didn’t do anythin’ to your wife.” Simon defends. He steps forward so he’s now side by side next to Johnny, the kitchen looking too small for them. “We just came here to deliver the meat she ordered, is all.”
“Oh really?” James says. He shoves an accusing finger in Simons shoulder.
He’s going to hurt them. He’s going to hurt them and you’re just standing there.
Like the pliant little housewife he made you to be.
What are you doing just standing there?
When you let the heavy coat drop from your arms onto the floor and you take a singular step in their direction, you can feel the glass digging deeper into your skin.
Every step is a reminder.
As you near your husband, you shudder. His wrath is like a toxic air that’s slowly killing you from the inside out. Taking and taking until there’s nothing left of you to take.
You reach your James, scared to meet the questioning gazes of Johnny and Simon, and reach a trembling hand to touch his shoulder. “James—”
He whips his body around to face you. You can see, feel, his anger as it burns everything it touches. Hungry for more. He grabs your outstretched hand and squeezes. Ignoring the whimpers of pain that fall from your lips and the tears that blur your vision and fall down to meet at your chin.
“You.” He says it with so much, loathe dripping from his voice, painting his lips, his chin, neck, black with anger.
“You fucking whore, playing around with these, little boys, getting their dicks wet while I slave away at work and provide for you?”
His face is too close. So close, you can smell the stink of alcohol on his breath, recoil as you feel the spit flying out of his mouth land on your face. You feel your tears falling fatter and faster as you see the hickeys and lipstick prints on his neck.
“You let go of ‘er—”
Your free hand feels like lead as you raise it to bring it down with such force it leaves a red mark on his face the moment your skin touches his, his face forced to the side, facing the wall.
You feel your soul getting doused in gasoline and set on fire.
You see James’s body turning rigid and stiff as his face turns a canvas of anger.
You blink away your tears.
He stiffens as if he endures the horrors you have to watch him do at night. He stiffens as if his body is constantly being clawed, dragged, down by hands that burn. He stiffens as if he has glass stuck in the soles of his feet, spilling his blood onto the floor and staining the wood, the walls, you. You, you, you.
He turns his head back to its original position to at you, but he’s stopped. Stopped by a scared hand deep his hair wrenching back so his body topples to the floor with a reverberating thud. You almost fall with him with his tight grip on your wrist, but you feel Johnny’s hand pluck yours out of his and cradle it, cradle you, to his chest.
But you can’t focus. You see your vision blurring and a ringing, your soul screaming, in your ears is blocking out the noise of Simon’s fists connecting with James’s face.
You watch with horror gleaming in your eyes as you see your husband’s face and body grow more and more unrecognizable by the second.
Why are you just standing there?
“Get—” Simon’s fist interrupts his slurred cries. “—th’ fuck off ‘f me you d’rty bast’rd . . .”
Your husband is getting beaten, and you’re standing in the arms of another? A stranger?
Simon’s eyes. They’re burnt a charcoal black and only seemed to be getting darker by each blow he landed on your husband’s face. It scares you to no end.
“You stain your wife’s skin with that mouth?” A sharp sound, a slap echos throughout the room. Right where your hand hit his face. Right where your hand can be seen on his face as a bright red gone darker by Simon’s force.
Your eyes catch a gleam in the light, a gleam of something sharp, of something used to kill.
A pocket knife.
James struggles to fully pull it out of his pocket but when he does, he grips it with a shaking hand and stabs blindly at Simon’s arm.
You suck in a breath and can only watch as silence consumes the room with Johnnys arms tightening around you.
He didn’t even flinch as the knife was forced into his skin, didn’t even react as he gripped the handle and yanked the knife out of his arm, his blood following the knife like a lost dog before splattering on the ground like abstract art.
Noises of pain and fear escape the opened mouth of your husband, noises that you’ve never heard him make. Only noises of power and rage.
Simon rises to his full height and takes a handful of James’s hair, dragging him up with him add dropping the knife on the floor
“Simon—” You beg, but it’s too late. With the grip Simon has on James’s hair, he pulls his arm back and swings it, swings James, towards the kitchen counter at full force.
His head ricochets off of the counter and he lands back on the floor, right in front of your shaking form.
He lays there sideways and still as the long gash running straight across his forehead leaks blood onto his clothes and floor at a rapid pace. You stare at it as the blood slowly runs towards you.
You’re staring at your husband’s bleeding body.
Simon grabs James’s pant leg, pants that you bought for him, and yanks his body towards him to resume what he hadn’t finished.
When the blows continue, you find yourself wincing at each one, unconsciously sinking deeper into Johnny’s warm body.
A man you just met that day is beating the life out of your husband.
You feel like cold water is raining down on your body.
“Stop—” Your cry escapes your lips broken. “stop, please! Simon please—you’re hurting him!”
You try to push Johnny off of you, try to yank your limbs out of his strong grip but that’s just it. His strong grip is like a snake that captured its prey, rolling its body around it and holding onto it until it dies, until it can’t feel anymore, until you can’t breathe anymore.
“Let me go—Johnny let me go!”
He shushes your cries and doesn’t even bat an eye when you turn to bang your fists on his chest and run your nails down his skin. He just cradles your head to his chest right where his heart is so you can hear his heartbeat and be soothed.
But how can you be soothed when—
“Simon.” You hear him say. “That’s enough.”
Like changing tides; Johnny’s voice sweeps into his mind and altered his landscape of emotions. Changing from the beast in a story to a soft bear.
A bear with blood dripping from its mouth.
Simon stops the torture that he inflicted upon your husband and keeps his back turned to you and Johnny as he stands. Blood, James’s blood, dripping from his clenched fists and escaping into the crevices in your tile floor.
He turns at the waist to you and Johnny. You, who’s still struggling to escape his arms, you whose tears are never ending on your damp cheeks, you who’s watching your husband struggle to breathe, blood exiting his mouth in bubbles, popping and splattering the red mess everywhere.
And Johnny, who watched with a satisfied smile growing on his face.
Bells were ringing in your ears, stars were dotting your vision, your hands were shaking, you can’t breathe. “James . .?” You whisper. Your voice coming out so broken that Johnny almost felt sorry.
He still has his arms around you, still feels your beating heart pound against the cage around it, against his chest, still feels the sting of the bruises and scratches you left on him, the latter leaving blood trailing down his arms, dripping and dripping until they bleed into your dress, bleed into you. He still feels, you.
“What . . . No . . . no, no!” Your wail runs deep and escapes raw from your soul. You wail and it breaks Johnny’s heart, breaks it into tiny pieces scattered all around this cruel world you all live in. This world filled with cruel people.
“You killed him! You killed him!” You struggle, and Johnny grunts out curses as you elbow his stomach, slipping in blood and failing to the floor, your dress pooling at your feet, shaking in the blood staining the floor and dying the front of your once blue dress red. You fall right in front of Simon. Right in front of your husband’s still warm body. Still bleeding. Still breathing.
You burn the part of you that feels disappointed in that fact.
“James,” You whisper, cradling his face, his broken face, his face that is broken and bleeding, in your hands. You know it will haunt you for life. “Please, please, wake up. . . wake up . . .”
Blood was everywhere.
Your cries are silent except for the horror filled gasps you let out in between breaths. Your hands shake and you feel as if the coldest of waters were dumped on you. Hoping there would want you up from this dream, this nightmare.
“Why . . ? Why did you do this . . ?”
Your face is drenched in your tears running down your face, some fleeing into your mouth, making you taste your own sweet nectar tears. A nectar that is sticky and leaves a bitter rather than sweet taste in your mouth, a nectar that clings to things that aren’t theirs and never lets go. A nectar like Simon and Johnny.
“He was hurtin’ ye lass,” Johnny says. “We couldnae let ‘im hurt ye like tha’” He walks towards you, the squelch sound coming from his boots walking on blood make you flinch and cover your mouth in terror with your shaking hands, spreading blood, your husband’s blood, all over your tear stained cheeks.
Johnny squats down next to you, his thighs brushing over yours as he watches you. Watches you process that your husband might as well be dead to you, and he’s not coming back no matter how hard you pray.
You feel Johnnys hand, his warm hand, his soft hand, his dry hand, guide your face to lock your eyes with his.
“Ye know we had to do tha’.” He says. His eyes aren’t bright anymore. Now they’re dark waves at night. Luring innocents into its waters and taking, drowning, keeping. “Right, love?”
Your eyes shift back to James’s body in your peripheral, still feeling the cold gaze of the two men on your face.
His eyes are swollen shut; but if they were open, you could imagine they’d be looking at you, piercing you with that gaze you used to love so much, The gaze you find yourself missing; back when things were good, not burnt and soaked in blood.
His skin is pale. It turns as white as the pure clouds that once blocked the heat of the sun. But now the clouds are dark, they’re dark and they obscure the warmth of the sun to let the cold chill of death sink its claws into the fertile earth.
His chest barely rises with the painful breaths he’s taking.
He’s still alive.
Your shaking eyes peel away from James and they lock with Johnnys’ again.
And you know, with a heavy and pained heart, that he can see the tiny part of you that agrees with him.
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, your eyes burned and your head is pounding. All you can hear is ringing. Ringing, screaming, crying, all the same to you in this moment.
You hear someone call your name, you feel a wet hand touch your shoulder, you feel something sharp sink into the fragile skin of your neck.
You feel the cold shadow of darkness embrace you.
Your body feels heavy.
Heavy with guilt, fear, and an overwhelming sadness.
Heavy with whatever drug was forced into you.
In your milky haze, your eyes open slightly and the sun burns your eyes even through the thick curtains blocking it.
You think they’re curtains. They could very well be something else; but they move with such a fluidity in them that you can’t think otherwise.
This room you’re in moves as if it’s a vehicle on a bumpy road, your ears pick up the sound of an animal trotting on the rough road.
Someone moves, blocking the shining sun with their body as they move to learn towards you.
“Sh, Bonnie lass.” A voice coos at you, brushing their—his—hand over your temple to gently move the hair that rested there. “Yer alrigh’, we’re gonnae get ye someplace safe.”
When you let out a hoarse moan in protest to his action, another hand, a bigger hand, pets your hair and plants a chaste kiss on your sweating forehead.
You let out a dry cry and try to move your head in another direction, any direction, but the poison burning your veins and warming your skin is making you a limp doll.
Your lips are cracked and your throat is raw. When you try to speak, the sentence gets lost on the way out of your mouth and only one word escapes.
“. . . home . . .”
The soft voice, the first voice, shushes you again, moving your body and placing it sideways in a laying position so your head rests on his lap and your legs dangle on something else. Someone else.
“It’s gonnae be okay hen, don’ worry that pretty head. We’ll get ye home safe with us.”
You last see the curtains move after going over a particular bump in the road, revealing dancing trees and a large sign; though you only see the last part of it before your body succumbs to sleep:
—POPULATION: TWO HUNDRED SEVENTEEN.
In the murky shadows of the dimly illuminated room, wisps of smoke curled and danced around the man seated amidst the gloom like a dragon.
With each inhale, the ember of the cigar flared, casting fleeting glimpses of their features into the obscurity.
The apple of his cheeks, his beard shining auburn, his eyes that reflected an angry sea.
“She sleepin’?” He asks into the shadows. His voice is rough and deep, his words escape him in a cloud of smoke as dark as his eyes.
“Yes. Brought ‘er in an hour or so ago. A ripe peach she is.” The shadow answers, stepping away from the window that covered an entire wall adjacent to the grand desk. The shadow walks the length of the room to stand in front of the desk, he picks up a random trinket from the desk and starts twirling it between his fingers repeatedly.
“And the husband? Tell me the bastards’ gone.”
The smell of smoke and ash covered the room. But nothing could cover the smell of blood coating the shadows fingers, staining the trinket, the knife, in his hand.
“He’ll never hurt her again.”
- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms !
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©miwsolovely
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Alright I ask for headcanons yet again
Except this time for once I'm not insane
How would Chiori react to the reader preferring their own clothes over Teyvat's?
(Judging from the overall complexity of Genshin Impact's outfits, I can deduce that our modern-day clothing probably feels a lot more comfy)
Read this prologue for context!
Scenario: Reaction to Reader's casual dress style
Characters: Chiori
For starters, Chiori is an incredibly forward person on purpose, no matter who she's dealing with, no matter how powerful or all mighty they might be, and even though you may be special in a different way, it's no difference to her.
When she sees your clothes for the first time, her mind takes a moment to properly process it. She hadn't actually imagined what you looked like before, but an otherworldly fashion style wasn't in her mind! She'll definitely rope you into checking out your outfit sooner than later.
With this check though, she's quick to realize that your outfit, made of a simple t-shirt and jacket, is made with comfortability and casual vibes in mind. Just to make sure, she'll ask plenty of questions! Mostly out of curiosity.
As soon as she confirms this theory, she'll get started on measuring you up, and making a new outfit of her own! She understands now that you prefer comfortability over style, but that doesn't mean she'll let you walk away without something of hers on.
She'll probably make a few prototype sets to understand what you find comfortable in clothes, as she was very much specialized in fancier, high status clothing making! It's a challenge she very much welcomes, no matter how much you may protest her attempts.
In the end though, she is primarily doing this for you, to help you feel more at home in this weird place. She knows the effects that clothing can have not only in onlookers, but one's sense of self, and she's here to help out with that.
Once you sound satisfied, and select which of her prototypes you liked best, she'll make a set only for you, making sure to stop progress on her other orders until this one is finished. It'll be a secret endeavor, as she knows the value in keeping your name hidden.
That'll be far from it, however. Don't be surprised if you get gifts from her every now and then with more sets of comfortable, yet fashionable clothing! Making sure to put in an Inazuman flare for you to fit in best, every piece was original and unique.
Whenever you feel the urge to thank her, she simply cuts it short and continues on. In fact, since this is her way of thanking you, she can't help but take it as something endearing, how you failed to see how much you've already done for her.
She hasn't forgotten the kindness and happiness that you showed her when you still controlled the game world from outside, and this is just her returning a due favor. You definitely notice the difference when interacting with the others, as they feel more at ease with your more familiar clothes. Perhaps she was right about your previous clothes being a problem...
"How would you say that set is compared to the last? Yes, these are important questions. This has been quite the enjoyable riddle, but I can only improve with feedback, and you're my only target audience. Don't worry about rushing it, just think deeply and answer me in detail, for the sake of a better set next time."
#genshin impact#genshin impact sagau#genshin sagau#sagau#genshin headcanons#genshin impact headcanons#inazuma aficionado sagau#chiori x reader#sagau chiori#sagau chiori x reader
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The Man 5
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen
Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
You double check the lock on your apartment door. Your paranoia buzzes like a broken radio. You pace around the cramped bachelor, thoughts strewn all around. One moment, you’re desperately trying to figure out what to do next; find a job, go home, call Bre and beg her to take you back. The next, you’re looking out the window, expecting a villain to be waiting outside. Every worry you have strings back to that man...
You manage to settle down enough to browse the scant offerings on Indeed. The work from home opportunities are questionable as you tap more information. Commission based... that’s not going to get you much. You send off a few applications for fast food joints, a quick solution just to you through, but you need something quick. Something today.
You give up and throw your phone. You stare at it as it lays screen down on the other end of the couch. You see it in that man’s hand as he flicks his thumb. Who does he think he is? The real question is, who is he?
You sigh and close your eyes, dragging your hands over your face. The more you think about it, the more it feels you were set up for failure. Why couldn’t Bre just warn you? Why couldn’t she tell you who he was? Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?
The stale smell of espresso urges you from the couch. You shuffle into the bathroom and start the shower. You strip off your clothes, slightly stiff from the dried coffee. Your skin is sticky too in places and there’s a particularly crusty patch on your chest somehow.
You wash away the caffeine-laced christening. You linger beneath the water and let it slake over you. You lean forward, hands flat on the tile as hot rivulets wash over your back. Your muscles are coiled tightly. The stress of the day and those to come have you tied up like a knot.
When you emerge, you yawn, too exhausted to keep up the existential despair. You stagger into the front room and over to your double bed. You trade the towel for a loose tee and sprawl across the futon. You melt into it and close your eyes.
You’ll figure it all out tomorrow. Maybe. Hopefully.
Or maybe tomorrow will be even worse.
☕
You wake up to the creak of your mail slot and the metallic clunk of it biting down on an paper. You gurgle and roll onto your side, coughing dryly as you rub your forehead. Your head is thick and foggy from sleep. A slightly thrum pulses in your temple.
You hover at the edge of the bed, staring at the door, weighing the distance. You yawn and roll onto your feet. You pad across the apartment and pull the paper free of the flap. You open the trifold letter and your vision clears as the font comes into view.
The building’s letterhead makes you think it’s another notice for the fire alarm test but the bold captials across the top send your heart into panic. NOTICE TO VACATE. What? How? Your rent for the month is paid, plus first and last. How can they evict you? You didn’t do anything.
You look through the peephole. The hallway is empty. Dang.
You rinse your face and brush your teeth hurriedly. You pull on a pair of sweatpants and your slip-on shoes. You check the mirror and shrug. Good enough. You don’t really care right now. You need to figure this out.
You stomp down the flight of stairs to the building office and knock frantically until the door opens. The squat woman inside gives you a death glare. You wave the letter at her.
“I think there’s a mistake,” you say.
She grunts and stares back at you.
“I paid my rent, but this says I have to leave.”
“Lease violation,” she shrugs.
“But what-- I’ve been here only a few weeks? What did I do?”
“Read the letter,” she sniffs.
You furrow your brow and unfold it again. You skim over the words; ‘landlord requires unit for personal use’. Huh? They can do that?
“Personal use? But—But you leased it to me. My deposit--”
“Take it up with a lawyer. All there,” she taps the top of the paper before she swings the door shut in your face.
What the hell? This can’t be real. You’re in a nightmare. You’re not really awake. This is just one of those really deep dreams where you can’t throw a punch. Too bad you can’t throw one in real life either. Hard to test the theory.
You frown and make your way back up to your apartment. You leave the paper on the counter and brew a coffee from the single-serve machine. You hold your head in your hands, elbows on the linoleum, as you try to sort through it all.
The machine grinds and you stand up straight. You take your cup and go to the fridge. You pull out the carton of milk and tip some into your coffee. The chunks that roll out of the spout make you gag. Frig, expired. You dump the whole mug and leave it empty in the sink. Nothing is going right.
You pour out the sour milk and rinse away the putrid scent. You need to get food. You’re out of eggs too. Just a few small things for now. You have to count your pennies.
You put a bra on and pull on a hoodie. You make yourself decent enough to face the public but keep your sweatpants on. You’re just running to the corner store. You grab your wallet, phone, and keys and head out.
Your stroll down to the store is distracted. You should ask a lawyer but you can’t really afford that. You’ll have to try the housing board, see if they offer public services. You don’t really know about all that stuff.
You grab your staples without much attention. Eggs, milk, a loaf of bread, and some sliced cheddar. Grilled cheese for life.
You go to the counter and wait for the cashier to scan the items. You try to tap your card but it declines. You insert instead and put in your pin. Pin accepted, transaction declined. You grimace, face burning with embarrassment.
“Sorry, one sec, I’m gonna just check my account.” You back out of the way of the next customer and pull out your phone.
You sign-in to your banking app. You see the balance you expected. More than enough for your lot but there’s a little red exclamation mark next to the account number. You tap it and a new page opens.
‘Account locked for security purposes. Contact Bank Services.’
Oh my god! What more can go wrong? You tap on the little chat icon in the corner. The automated responses lead you in a circle and tell you to call the toll-free or go into the local branch. Ugh! But you need milk now.
A message blips across the top of your screen. It fades before you can read it. You pull down the menu and stare dumbly at the text sent from a private number, ‘morning, sweet lips.’
#lloyd hansen#dark lloyd hansen#dark!lloyd hansen#lloyd hansen x reader#drabble#series#au#the gray man#the man
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Greetings again
i was wondering how deep you got into the Fallout show and if so what do you think of it so far? since im a bit mixed, mostly due to me being a FNV fan and just weirded out by some decisions in the show, but what do you think, also how Cass would react to this new Ghoul, also wanted your opinion on Raul
Hey there! I’m actually a big Fallout NV fan myself and, tbh, I was very skeptical of the series when I first heard that it was in development. Video game adaptions don’t have the best track record and initial shots had a lot of people making speculations about sneak peeks we were given like Lucy visiting a town that some people thought looked like Megaton. I went into watching the show without any expectations and was pleasantly surprised at how faithfully they had tried to make it - it’s good for people who aren’t familiar to Fallout but also had enough nods that give us long-time fans a treat. I’ve had a couple friends say they were sharing the show with their parents and grandparents, which I think is pretty neat!
I think so long as you keep the mindset that this is its own thing. The last episode exceeded my expectations and I’m looking forward to the next season but I get it might not be everyone’s cup of tea. Still, I do think that the showrunners did do a good job of constructing something that feels like it would belong in the universe.
Raul was my buddy in NV and I loved his story arc. We find him pretty self deprecating and suffering from survivors guilt when we find him in Black Mountain. Getting him to open up about it and take on the vaquero outfit I felt was really rewarding. Probably the companion I traveled the most with besides Boone.
Also, I think Cooper would, in typical Cooper fashion, would definitely make a big impression for sure…
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HEARTSTRINGS. - p1
masterlist ⚜ p2
pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!reader
summary: after moving to massachusetts from florida, y/n lives with her half brother, nathan doe, who is part of a small garage band. their sassy guitarist, chris sturniolo, can't help but get on her nerves. but there's something about him.
warnings: use of y/n lol, mentions of drugs, cursing
a/n: rewrote the FUCK out of this, i hope this one is SO MUCH BETTER. love u guys. <3
"chris?"
"phone charger girl!"
"the fuck is he doing here?" my voice boomed in the garage, causing nathan to flinch slightly.
"woah, you two know each other?"
"sort of." chris responded with that stupid smug smirk on his face.
"not at all, actually." i responded quickly, immediately shutting down chris' disgusting expression.
my heartbeat was racing. i couldn't feel anything but anger in every fiber of my being. i couldn't help but remember to myself earlier today.
i had been living in massachusetts for about three days now. very interesting place, very different from florida.
after my mom's drug addiction became a major issue, cps was informed and i was sent to my dad's in boston, where i was completely unfamiliar with everyone and everything.
my dad's side, they weren't complete strangers if checking his status on facebook counted as being close.
shortly after i was born, my mom took me and left my dad in boston while we fled to live in florida. and as i get older, i can't help but feel more hatred towards the woman. my dad was a great guy, never deserved the way she treated him. he definitely did not deserve his first child being ripped away from his grasp a few months into my life.
when my mom and i moved to florida, my dad met another woman and had a child with her, whose name is nathan.
he seems like a really cool guy, an awesome brother to have, so i was looking forward to this move a lot, more than i probably should have.
the feeling of fresh air was appealing to me and the feeling of finally being there to reassure my dad that i want to be with him was even more exciting to me.
nate and i clicked pretty quickly, talking about our music taste on the way home from the airport. we talked a lot about video games, and he told me he was involved in a small garage band and plays the drums.
"that's so fucking cool!" i exclaimed with a bright smile, and nathan nodded.
"yeah! we mostly do covers now, but i plan on releasing some new and original music soon."
i nodded as i stayed focused on nate as he spoke, playing with my hands in my lap nervously.
the fact that this kid was my brother was so mind blowing to me. i couldn't wait.
the doe family had left to go to an event they had only bought three tickets for. i reassured them over and over that i was okay with staying at the house and continuing to settle in. and with that they left.
i dug through my bag and frowned when i came to a tragic realization.
"fuck." i cursed under my breath as i stood up and slid on my shoes.
time to go to that one gas station down the street we stopped at on the way here from the airport.
i left the house through the front door and slid my earbuds into my ears, playing my favorite playlist as i walked down the street.
boston was a lot more close together than florida. it genuinely made my heart happy.
about fifteen minutes into my walk and i find the gas station, pulling the door opened and look at the employee at the counter, smiling faintly to greet him. his eyes were glued to his phone though, so i turned to make my way up and down the aisles and look for the phone charger that works for my phone.
"eighteen dollars is fucking bizarre." i muttered under my breath at the charging brick box that i now have between my fingers. i carefully took it off the bar and grabbed a six ft long cord, making my way to the counter.
this is great. no job, new place, and i was already burning a hole into my savings for a fucking phone charger.
i set the two boxes on the counter and began digging through my pockets to find my wallet, the boxes hitting the counter a little harder than i had intended.
"woah there, sensing some aggression from 'ya. boyfriend start an argument with you or what?"
i finally found my wallet, but my eyes shifted quickly to the boy at the counter. "excuse me?" i asked, my face flushed at the thought. "it doesn't-" i blinked a few times. this kid was insane. "just ring me out please." i sighed as i inserted my card in the cardreader.
"relax sweetheart, just yankin' your chain." he stated defensively, skipping through the prompts on his screen. his hair was a little longer than average, and fairly wavy. he had a silver cuban link bracelet on one wrist and a few small handmade ones on the other, a ring or two on each hand. he had silver hoops in his ears and a plain black t-shirt on over his blue baggy jeans.
i stared at him in disbelief before i put my pin into the pad, yanking out my card as soon as it beeped and quickly shoving it into my wallet. chris set the charger boxes into a small plastic bag, placing it on the counter between us.
"i'm not your sweetheart," i narrowed my eyes at the nametag on his shirt, sucking in through my teeth, "chris."
i gripped the bag and left the gas station, and never turned back to see chris with his arms raised, and that disgusting smirk on his face.
my music was playing extra loud in my headphones in a desperate attempt to drown out the sound of nate slamming the drums in the garage.
i carefully sat up, my hand moving to run through my hair as i slipped on my shoes and stepped down the stairs. i was just wearing some pajama shorts and an oversized hoodie, but who even cares, right?
my hair was thrown into a messy bun, and i had one earbud in as my eyes were glued to my phone. i turned the doorknob to the garage carefully before stepping in and lifting my head as the music came to a halt.
and with that, my eyes widened.
and that's how we got here. with a finger pointed to my face.
"the fuck is he doing here?" my voice boomed in the garage, causing nathan to flinch slightly.
"woah, you two know each other?"
"sort of." chris responded with that stupid, smug smirk on his face.
"not at all, actually." i immediately barked back, crossing my arms.
nate looked between us both and shrugged it off quickly before he pulled a chair beside him. "come listen, y/n. i think you'd like it a lot." he told me.
i couldn't say no. i really was curious to hear nathan play. "okay, sure. just for a bit though." i reminded him of the time, and he smiled brightly and sat down in his seat.
i felt chris' eyes burning into the back of my head the whole time, his shaggy brunette locks perfectly draping over his forehead, which was a bit damp, while his eyes shifted to focus on his guitar again.
nate turned to me with a bright smile, grabbing his drumsticks as he glanced to the other two, making sure they were ready.
i watched the three and smiled as they began playing.
they were really good, actually.
better than i had expected them to be.
with nathan slamming the drums with his drumsticks and the boy i didn't know yet playing the bass, chris actually knocked his part out of the park.
chris glanced up for half a second, where we locked eyes. my eyes widened as he turned back to his guitar and a small smile grew on his face.
i hate this kid.
the song came to an end, and i turned to nathan, applauding happily.
"you guys sound great, genuinely. have you guys worked on any original stuff?"
nathan chuckled and shrugged, glancing between the other two. "a bit. chris writes phenomenal lyrics. we're working on it."
i glanced to chris for a moment, who was now gently strumming the strings of his guitar. i gulped as i stared at his hands, then turned back to nate. "i'm excited for you guys. let me know if i can do anything to help?"
nate nodded happily, and i stood up.
"alright, i'm gonna try and go to sleep. good luck to you guys." i waved at the three, and smiled at nate, my eyes quickly glancing at chris who waved softly back, no clear expression on his face anymore.
and with that, i opened the garage door and shut it, before taking a deep sigh and leaning against it.
"dude, you didn't tell me your sister was bad as hell," an unfamiliar voice rang, which i assumed was the bassist.
"wh- ben, gross! shut up dude," nathan quickly stated.
i cringed at the boy's comment, shaking my head quickly as if he could see me responding or something.
"invite her more often." chris stated blankly, standing up from his seat as he adjusted his guitar strap.
nathan turned to chris and narrowed his eyes.
i quickly stood up and made my way back to my bedroom, laying flat against the bed and turning up the music playing in my earbuds.
chris playing guitar and writing some lyrics.
it made me genuinely curious about whether or not this guy actually wrote good lyrics.
i hated being curious about him.
but i needed to know more.
masterlist ⚜ p2
comment to be added to taglist!!
taglist;; @sturnioloshacker
#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo smut#sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo x reader#chris x reader#chris sturniolo fluff
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hazbin hotel characters with a partner with mental health problems
GENDER NEUTRAL READER
WARNINGS: depictions of harm to self, drugs, alcohol, depression, anxiety, burns, crying, self deprecation, sad stuff but there’s lots of comfort and love.
features: lucifer, alastor, vox
comments, reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated <3
LUCIFER
“and then she hugged me! Charlie actually hugged me, oh it felt so nice to see her smile and she was happy to see me. it was so awesome you should’ve been there to see it, and then there was this pesky radio dem-“ Lucifer paused mid sentence, the words that were about to spout from him abruptly stopped. the door he had just opened, inhabited a lump under the covers who hadn’t yet moved.
their shared bedroom had always had happy memories, but it seemed your mind had followed you home this time, and refused to let up on tormenting you behind the closed doors of your’s and lucifer’s residence.
“Love? has something happened?” The fallen angel whispered gently, moving forward to your side of the bed, peeling away the covers from your face to reveal dull eyes.
depression had followed you all throughout your time of being alive, and even with death it had stuck to you like glue, chains bound to you for eternity. As if being in hell wasn’t enough.
“Honey? can you look at me f’me please?” He rasped, a clawed hand cupping the full cheeks of your face, feeling the lack of warmth that rested beneath your skin. Lifeless eyes dragged themselves to gaze upon the king of hell, and they almost phased straight through him. “Oh sweetie.” his heart ached, he had been aware of everything about you when you were living, never bringing up how you died or what you suffered with. and he had no reason to, you hadn’t showed any signs of falling back into depression or struggling mentally, until now.
“I’m here, i’m here for you.” Lucifer mumbled as he scooted forward to place a tender kiss on your forehead, then the bridge of your nose, then both your cheeks. “can i come into bed with you?”
a small nod, devoid of any energy.
Lucifer scrambled under the covers, immediately going to scoop his lover into his arms, his strength made it easy to manhandle you as tenderly as he could into a position where your head laid softly on his broad chest. “y’know.” the devil hummed, opting to stroke his partner’s hair, “out of the billions of years of being alive. i have never, ever met someone like you.”
as if by reflex, you had scoffed, almost turning your head away from him.
a part of him panicked, his hand stilling and dipping down until it cupped your chin. “i’m serious.” he had mumbled, quieter than before, before regaining his confidence. “after i fell, i found it hard to love things around me anymore. a part of me was lost in that garden, i- the point is, i met you and my heart.” he breathed a little laugh.
“oh my dear, my heart, it has never been fuller.” he admitted honestly, his hand moving once again to caress your skin, his fingers touched you like you were porcelain. a doll, precious and fragile, but he’d have you no other way. “you are the most wonderful being i have ever met, nothing could compare to you.”
tears that had been welling up began to shed, to unashamedly trickle down his face. “nothing.”
the hands that were drawn into your body to almost cradle yourself moved swiftly, they snaked around whatever they could get their fingers on and squeezed thrice, a simple indication of ‘i love you.’
things would be alright after all.
-is very caring during episodes, finds himself almost sick with worry the more you get worse or if you don’t get better
-helps you with cleaning yourself, brings you meals if you haven’t eaten for a while, cradles you at night.
-will hide away with you until you’re ready to go out anywhere. will chaperone you everywhere if he can, stick to you like glue, always has to be touching you in some sort of way to let you know he’s there
-tries to stay awake with you when insomnia hits you, reads to you, will even sing.
-if you can’t take care of your hygiene, he takes his time washing your hair, hands massaging your scalp, humming as he drags the faucet over your head to get the shampoo and conditioner out. puts on face masks with you, showers with you, even if he has to haul you up (it’s not much effort to carry you). he lathers you up and caresses every part of you, you are his everything. will just smother you in his deodorant, you smelling like him always eases his little protective brain for some reason.
-celebrates every good day with you, a part of him breaks when good days get fewer and far between. he fears losing you, or that you’ll never get better. but he doesn’t know that being with him grounds you more than he could ever know.
ALASTOR
“hey alastor!” Charlie itched to talk to the demon, something in her eyes gave him the impression that it was urgent. Her pale hands waved at him a little too aggressively for his liking.
something was up.
he did not like that one bit.
“Charlie! what can i do for you?” His smile stretched impossibly larger, an arm sweeping to courteously gesture for the princess of hell to continue talking. he fought the urge to grit and ground his teeth, anxiety was never one of his favourite emotions to experience, for others it was.
“Alastor! Hi! Hi.” Charlie jogged to him, standing in front of the demon with a little nervousness in her step. she cleared her throat before sighing, “look i just, i noticed something off about your partner today. i don’t think they’re doing okay, and i was worried and i thought you should know so that you would have a heads up-“
“thank you Charlie.” Alastor’s words came out borderline grateful, softer than his normally charring static voice. “is that all?”
“yes! i- uh, i hope they’re okay!” She beamed, lingering for a second longer than alastor liked before getting the message to leave. As soon as Charlie’s back was turned, Alastor phased through the floor, becoming one with the shadows, after a moment of plunging into an abyss, he rose back up from the depth into his room. Nothing seemed awry, until he picked up on the sound of the shower running, the water spewed out rhythmically.
and then the radio demon noticed the noise behind the water hitting the shower floor.
crying.
The buck’s whole body froze at the foreign sound, the sobs that wracked through the air caused his smile to instantly drop. Worry clouded his senses and without feeling it, his form expanded, antlers growing larger and sharper and his eyes shone bright as he all but busted through the bathroom door, scouring the place for you. “Dear?” his voice cracked, frenzied state shrinking to his normal size as he found you curled into a ball while water hit your back.
his hands itched to scoop you up and take you to bed, but he didn’t want to make you more upset.
you had looked at him with wobbly lips and swollen eyes, “don’t look at me.” you whimpered, a fresh set of tears crashing down your red face, “i’m disgusting, i’m ugly, i’m fucking putrid to see.” you had humourlessly laughed, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth before another sob was pulled from the depths of your chest.
for a second time, Alastor felt himself froze, conflicted with you insulting yourself. insulting his perfect partner. disgusting? absolutely not. ugly? what a lie. putrid? how far from the truth could you be?
his claws reached to envelop your body, he almost hissed at the temperature of the water, boiling hot, enough to burn. you had been sitting there, getting sprayed by alarmingly warm water. “come now.” he started, an unusually soft tone coming from him, “you’ll get hurt if you stay under that water my love.”
“that’s the point.” you mumbled, “maybe if i’m damaged enough on the outside you’ll see how ugly i am on the inside too.”
“nonsense.” Alastor cut through your speech with an edge of anger, without another word, the demon’s hands wrapped around you, dragging your sore body from the wrath of the water. “we are going to bed, yes? and you will tell me why you think this so horribly about yourself my dear.”
“what? why aren’t you yelling at me? why aren’t you telling me i’m right?” your voice began to raise, and your face, already branded with a waterfall of tears, housed some more, fat globs of tears raced down your cheeks. “why won’t you hate me like i hate me?”
“i could never see anything apart from perfection in you my darling.” the deer murmured honestly, shimmying a towel up and down your body as quickly as possible, he wanted to cradle you as soon as he could. “you are more than i deserve. i would do anything for you.” he finished drying your body, swiftly changing you into dry and warm clothes. “and doing anything for you, entails loving you when you can’t find it in yourself to do the same. my love for you will never simmer, or dull, or lose its intensity. it will never falter, not even for a second.” something cold was applied to the raw and sore skin that was affected by the water, a paste for healing supposedly.
“the moment i laid eyes on you, i promised to protect you.” the radio demon whispered, finally able to hold you properly. he pulled the covers up before sliding both of you in, absentmindedly he undid his suit buttons, letting the fluff of his chest puff out from under his dress shirt. he laid your head on his fur, content to have you smothered by him. “so let me protect you, let me help you fight these cruel thoughts.”
“i’m sorry Alastor, i’ll try be better.” you had mumbled guiltily, nudging into his fur defeatedly.
“no no darling, no apologies, no being ‘better’. be as you are, and let me fight these thoughts with you.” his head dipped down, a smile coating his features as he softly nipped at your neck.
an airy, wet laugh left you, “okay Alastor, okay okay! no apologies.” you had agreed, hands tightening around him in thanks.
but you didn’t need to thank him.
Alastor would do anything for you.
literally.
-unused to caring for someone, unused to love and relationships as a whole. had never had any interest until he had seen you, it had opened a casket full of emotions he wasn’t prepared for.
-when it comes to your hygiene and taking care of you when you can’t, he’s very methodical, brushing your teeth for exactly two minutes, washing your body and hair stiffly. overtime he does try and show his affection through touch more, enjoys cradling you, kisses anywhere he can get his mouth on, mostly chaste kisses, not fully comfortable with long kisses of any sort.
-enjoys massaging your scalp with his claws, how you’ll finally be able to sleep while he caters to you by caressing and stroking your skin or hair. if you wander outside of your shared room, he tries to be around as much as possible, always a hand on the small of your back or a watchful eye on you.
-gets his shadow forms to take care of you and check on you when he’s in the studio or busy. cooks for you everyday, will spoon feed you, even in bed (he’ll change the sheets the day after).
-sneakily gets you to do affirmations with him, makes you stand in front of a mirror with him and says what a great couple you guys look like. tells you that he loves you in front of the mirror while holding or stroking a different part of you each time. will begrudgingly do skin care and make you do it with him, after a while you begin to enjoy it and start just doing each other’s skin care in the mirror.
-sees you nothing short as perfect, even when you can’t get up or cry for hours or don’t want to eat, even when you give up and refuse to try anymore. he finds a way to motivate you and want to try again.
VOX
(disclaimer: getting tired around this point so writing from here on in may deteriorate or lessen in quality)
meetings had been long lately, plans for vox security were kickstarting. he was so busy and it was exhausting, news commercial here, press conference there, meeting here, new tv show there. Vox was tired and he missed you.
between all his schedule and stalking the radio demon unhealthily, it seemed he had almost forgotten about you, even though you flooded his mind at every instance.
he just hadn’t done a very good job at showing how much he had missed you these past few weeks. it left you in a state of loneliness you weren’t quite used to, eyes always trailing to the cameras around the building and in your room, but familiar light of Vox watching the cameras wasn’t there. he hadn’t been checking on in, maybe he didn’t even want to look at you.
self worth was at an all time low, and your anxiety had sky rocketed out of its temporary dormancy, coming back in tenfold. insecurities were on display more than ever, and Vox was nowhere to be seen, falling asleep at his desk or at Val’s and or Velvette’s place.
it was hard not to feel so utterly unwanted.
so you did what every other sinner would do, drink, go crazy on the town and snort some things you shouldn’t have. and at the end of the night, feverish and cold, shaky and nauseous, as you looked into a camera that belonged to vox security, the light didn’t flash on.
he wasn’t there. would he ever be again?
all the substances in your system caught up to you, your stomach began to bubble with pain and you no longer had it within you to keep up the charade that you were fine. you willed yourself to cry, to do something other than rot on the floor of an alleyway street, but no tears came.
instead blood trickled from out of your nose, a telltale sign that you had outdone yourself with whatever atrocities of chemicals you had put in your body. you threw your head back, an expression between a grimace and a smile graced your face, maybe if you fucked yourself up enough Vox would finally come back to you.
needles lay on the ground, no longer sterile but it did not matter. with already shaky hands you grasped one of them, putting it at an angle to inject, you brought it down and the moment it pierced your skin, a familiar hand pulled it straight out of you with a frenzied cry.
“what the fuck were you doing?!” Vox huffed, anger and concern battling to show through his words. worry etched into his features, but you didn’t manage to spot that, only the anger.
“i-i.” no words could come out, the blood from your nose congealed and dripped down onto your shirt, and the injection site pooled with crimson blood too. how could you explain to your partner that you had planned to completely self destruct in hopes he would care for you again?
“are you a fucking idiot? oh my fucking god you’re bleeding.” his palms glided across the blood on your nose and thigh, wiping it away on his skin, his lower lip trembled as he swore at you thoughtlessly. “do you have any idea how dangerous this is?” he bit back the yell, a sigh falling from his lips as he watched your expression morph from embarrassed to complete self hatred.
“i’m sorry, im so sorry.” you whispered, wanting nothing more than to be out of the way, “im sorry that im not good enough, ill be better, i promise, don’t leave me, don’t leave me-“
Vox’s heart, what was left of it, had shattered entirely at your words. regret punched him in the stomach, weeks of little attention and this is what he says in your darkest hour? “shh, shh, of course not, no, no, i would NEVER, never leave you.” his thumbs alternated between rubbing away your forming tears and beading blood.
“c’mere baby.” his voice cracked, he offered you his embrace silently. the look you gave him was utterly heartbreaking, doubtful that he would still love you, god, as if he could ever stop loving you. wordlessly you sank into him, trying to greedily cozy up into him as much as you could, to remember every inch of him. “please, forgive me.”
the words wouldn’t formulate, too drugged up and drunk to even respond, you slumped in his arms, barely able to blink. Suddenly fingers were pinching your cheeks, “hey, hey, don’t fall asleep, i need to make sure you’ll be alright.” he spoke softly, a complete contrast to before. “i’m so sorry, i should be the one saying sorry baby. i’m so stupid, mistreating my whole world.”
the more worked up and upset he got, the more static seeped into his voice. “i’m so sorry. so sorry babe. i haven’t been around and that’s unfair on you, ill book a few days off work okay? just me and you, and i promise ill make it up to you.” his head bowed down, nuzzling against you affectionately, “just stay awake f’me, we’ll get what’s out of your system, and ill make it all up to you, i promise.”
hearing his voice, feeling his touch was pure euphoria for you, a safe haven you had missed beyond anything. “anything for you Vox.”
-is a complete sweetheart, just struggles at first if you’ve done something harmful or destructive to yourself. anything he says in the moment is not thought about and is him panicking.
-makes it up to you every time, bubble baths, washing you and taking care of you like you’re his god. keeps a first aid kit on standby, one is in your room, other first aid kits in other areas of the building too. makes sure from then on in to reassure you, to let you know of his schedule, to bring you with him as much as he can. sometimes comes back from a meeting and just naps with you until he has another thing to do.
-cannot keep his hands off you, super touchy in public now, in meetings you’re new seat is his lap. will try to lessen his schedule more, will spend a lot of his time sleeping with you when you sleep a lot, you two fall asleep spooning or just completely intertwined.
-makes meals for you when he can, hires a personal chef to keep you fed when he’s working. makes a habit of checking his cameras in your shared room a lot more, doesn’t spend as much time infatuated with stalking the radio demon anymore, he’s better at figuring out his priorities now.
-kisses your knuckles when he comes back from work, and then kisses you properly, an intimate lip locking that won’t end until you get the point that he very much wants you. tries to work more remotely, practices affirmations with you and tries to work on his reactions to stressful scenarios so he doesn’t make you feel worse.
-work is important, power is important, but you are above them both, cherishes like you are the only thing to ever exist when you’re both together.
#imagines#x reader#fluff#lgbtq#anons are open#anons open#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel#hazbin lucifer#hazbin vox#hazbin charlie#angst#angst prompt#remediesremedy#author#fanfic#fanfiction#mental illness#angst with a happy ending#hazbin hotel angst#hazbin hotel fluff#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel x gn reader
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A Message From Someone Who Loves You Pick a Pile
As this is a general collective reading, some things may not resonate with you or your situation. DO NOT try forcing it to fit. If you would like to book a personalized reading with me go to my profile and follow the instructions on my pinned post.
If you enjoyed this reading and wanted to support me further you can do so by tipping me in the link in my bio or by booking a personal reading with me.
Pile One:
Who are the people who chose this pile?
Seven of Water, Ace of Air, and The Fool:
You are a very optimistic person at your core. You embody all of the characteristics of a dreamer, someone who never lets the world bring them down. This is not to say that you don’t think things through or are blindly optimistic, actually, you are quite the opposite. You are a very intelligent person who doesn’t make any decisions before you think it through first. You have so many big dreams and can imagine yourself accomplishing almost anything you set your mind on. Nothing can hold you back or make you change your mind when you’ve decided that something will bring you joy. Many people would describe you as someone who is constantly smiling, always happy, and seeing the world for the good not the bad. You know that there is bad in the world, you just choose not to dwell on it.
Who is this person coming forward with a message?
Patience, Nine of Earth, and Page of Earth:
First off, I want to start by saying that for many of you, this person may be someone you knew who passed away. For others, this may be someone in your spiritual team, a deity, an angel, etc. While for some of you, this may be someone who is still in the material realm that you know. This person could be an earth sign (Virgo, Capricorn, or Taurus) or just have a very down-to-earth chill vibe. They may also be someone who is or was very interested in the Earth or space, either as a career or as a hobby.
This person is very practical and ambitious, when they are interested in something they set their mind to it and stop at nothing to complete it. They are very successful and self-sufficient because of their ability to push through all the chaos and keep at it until they see the results they want. You may admire them for their ability to almost always have a practical solution for almost anything that comes their way. They are always growing and looking for ways to grow which is something you may try to emulate.
What is their message to you?
Justice, Four of Fire, Nine of Air, and Six of Air:
You have been struggling with anxieties and fear for quite some time and they see that. They are saying to you that there are people in your life that are making you feel this despair and you need to let go of them. You may be waiting for the right moment to get revenge but, they are telling you that karma will come around no matter what, they will make sure of it, and you don’t need to worry about that. What you need to worry about right now is yourself and the energy you surround yourself with, make sure you are keeping your space and your energy clear of negativity so you can get out of this darkness you’ve been finding yourself in.
Why haven’t you been able to receive this message?
Five of Earth, Eight of Earth, and Strength Reversed:
For those of you who resonated with this person having passed away, you have been stuck in that grief that when you feel their presence trying to get your attention you ignore them because it is too hard for you to address it. This is why you have not been able to receive this message. For the other people that this person is still in the material realm, you have been feeling that loss and grief more towards yourself, and your belief in yourself. Since you have been surrounded by negative people and energy for so long, they have drained you of your energy, making you believe you aren’t worthy which is why you have been so blinded to this message trying to come through. This person has been trying to reach out to you, or maybe even has been telling you this but you have not been aware of it. You’ve been so distracted by the things in your life, maybe a hobby that you’ve been so focused on that when this person is talking to you, you may just brush them off. Or, you hear them trying to tell you that you need to let these people go because they are not good for you and you just don’t think you are strong enough or confident enough to do that or, you don’t want to cause any problems or drama so you stay in these negative relationships.
How can you better receive this message in the future?
Ten of Fire, and Messenger of Earth:
Patience is needed while you work through these messages. You have been in such a dark place and may be unaware of how the people in your life are the ones playing a huge role in why you have been in this darkness so, having this person trying to tell you to let them go comes as a surprise and your first reaction is to get defensive and shut them down. This is why you need patience, you are in such a sensitive state lately that allowing yourself time to process will really help you feel less frazzled and stressed out. It is also worth noting that you need to recognize how much responsibility it is to address the energies you keep in your life and when you start to approach cleansing these energies out of your life you need to be mature and sensitive towards others and towards yourself.
Bottom of the deck energy:
Three of Water:
The Three of Cups is the card of friendships and community, as well as celebrations and gatherings. So, having this as the overall energy of this reading is again, clarifying that you need to look at the energy you keep around you, especially in your friendships. When you want to throw a party or are invited to one, before you go or start inviting people, be careful and mindful of the people who you want around you so you don’t keep bringing yourself down.
There is a lot of Aries energy in this pile so, you could be an Aries or have strong Aries placements.
I was also getting a lot of images of bugs coming through while I was doing this reading, specifically stink bugs, so that may be a symbol for some of you.
More Specific Messages (Extended Reading)
Pile Two:
Who are the people who chose this pile?
King of Swords, Four of Swords, and Death:
You have gone through an ending of some sort in your life recently. I believe that this ending was a relationship, either a friendship, or a romantic relationship, and because of this, you have been feeling heartbroken, not knowing what happened in that relationship and why this ending happened. Because you have been feeling so upset and down in the dumps you have been giving yourself time to rest, wanting to hide away and not show your face because you know you won't be able to hide how you’ve been feeling. I was feeling very nauseous while doing this reading so, many of you may actually be experiencing physical sickness not just mental sickness because of this ending. For those of you who can’t hide away all day long and have to go out in public for work or for whatever reasons, I believe that you have been forcing a smile and pretending everything has been just fine in your life while you have actually been really struggling internally. Lots of you may be feeling like your brain has been in a fog like it’s been moving slower than usual. There was a very heavy, dark energy with this pile, I had to walk away and finish this reading another day. Many of you have been living in that darkness for quite some time now and I am sorry that you have been experiencing this, I hope that this reading can help bring some light and healing into your life.
Who is this person coming forward with a message?
The Lovers, Five of Swords, and The Empress:
I think this is why it came as such a shock to you that this person could ever do something to betray you because they are such a kind and nurturing person. They have such strong feminine energy, giving off strong maternal nurturing energy that you would've never thought that they would be the type to hurt you. I think that what you didn’t see though, was that this person was also hurting, they were going through some sort of conflict in their life when they did whatever it was that they did to hurt you. I believe they had no intentions of hurting you with whatever they did, it feels almost like it was a miscommunication between the both of you that caused this fallout. Based on the energy I am getting from this person I believe that they miss you and they never meant to hurt you. They are deeply saddened by what happened between the two of you.
What is their message to you?
Five of Wands, Three of Pentacles, Five of Cups, and Page of Swords:
Like I said above, this person is deeply saddened by the loss of you in their life and they really want to reach out to work things out with you. They may have already been trying to reach out but you have them blocked or just have ignored all of their messages. They want to get together with you and explain to you their side of the story. I don’t know if they want to start a relationship with you again, but I do know they want to talk with you to explain everything that happened. It feels to me that they don’t like leaving things on a bad note and they want to resolve these issues so that there is no bad blood between you anymore.
Why haven’t you been able to receive this message?
Seven of Wands, Knight of Swords, Two of Cups, and Two of Swords:
When you were with this person you thought they were a soul mate of yours that you two were destined to be in each other's lives forever, but then they did something that betrayed you and now you are in a state of defending your ego. Not wanting to even see this person because it hurts too much and you have put up walls trying to protect yourself from getting hurt and embarrassed like that again. However, all of that being said, there is a part of you that wants to hear this person out because you still care for this person deeply and that makes you even angrier because you wish you were the type of person who could just drop somebody without thinking of it but you’re not, you are very sensitive and this may be something you are embarrassed about. On top of all of that, you may be the type of person who doesn’t open up to someone very easily and you open up to this person only for them to betray you, which is another reason why you are not willing to hear this person out. You are very embarrassed and hurt at this moment and are on the defensive, trying to protect yourself.
How can you better receive this message in the future?
Queen of Swords, The World, and The Hanged Man Reversed:
I believe that there is a part of you that understands that this person is desperate to communicate with you and that part wants to hear them out but you are on the defensive and are letting your pride get in the way of this. What you need to do is let this go, stop letting your ego dictate your moves at this time. I know this is hard to do but once you do this you will heal parts of yourself you feel will never heal. The Queen of Swords is someone who is very good at making decisions without letting their feelings get in the way and this is something you need to embrace for you to hear this person out. You are moving nowhere in your spiritual and healing journey by letting your ego drive you in this moment and your guides are telling you here that by letting this side of you go, you will be able to move forward.
With all of the swords coming out, there is strong Air energy in this reading. So, you could be a Libra, Aquarius, or Gemini or have these placements in your chart. There is also strong Cancer energy with this pile as well so you could have Cancer in your chart or this person could also be a Cancer.
Bottom of the deck energy:
Ten of Swords:
The Ten of Swords is the card of victimization and betrayal. So, this is another confirmation that you are feeling this betrayal and feeling like a victim at this moment.
More Specific Messages (Extended Reading)
Pile Three:
Who are the people who chose this pile?
Seven of Pentacles, Seven of Wands, Six of Wands, and Five of Swords:
Right off of the bat pile three it seems that some conflicting energies are coming out for you. On one hand, you are seen as a very successful and patient person who embodies the definition of perseverance and contemplation. However, on the other hand, you are also in a very difficult place right now. Internally you are struggling. You may believe that you have to constantly prepare yourself for opposition in everything you do in life. This may be a defense mechanism that you have developed because of people in your life constantly belittling and second-guessing every step you take. However, based on the energy of this reading I do not believe you need to be defending yourself. I don't believe that there is anyone in your life at this current moment who has the intention of putting you down. But, you still feel like there is so, you are in a place at the moment where you are jumping down people's throats for no reason. I believe that you are very spiritual. You have strong intuition and you know this but you may be afraid of it, so you stuff it down and ignore it which is not helping you at all. This may be why you have been struggling to discern whether or not people have negative intentions toward you or not.
Who is this person coming forward with a message?
Ten of Wands, Seven of Swords, and Ace of Cups:
This person who is coming forward with a message for you is a mentor of some sort. For many of you this may be a deity that you worship who is helping you in your spiritual practice, for others this may be your inner child coming forward with a message for you. This person may seem like they are intentionally hiding things from you and not giving you the full picture, which is why I believe that for many of you, this is a deity that you work with. This person has a lot of love for you and is coming forward with open arms, wanting you to feel their love and warmth, but, they are also struggling deeply right now. I feel like this struggle they are facing is because of you. As I said before you are highly spiritual but you have been ignoring that side of yourself and since this person is a mentor for you, specifically in spirituality, they are struggling because you are not listening to their advice. It’s almost like you speak with them sometimes and ask them for help but you don’t actually listen to what they have to say to you and you aren’t actively working with them which is what is causing this struggle for them because they don’t understand why you are wanting to work with them when you don’t actually do any of the work.
What is their message to you?
King of Cups, Five of Wands, The Fool, and Quote:
The quote that is specific to this deck came out for you pile three. It says; “What we see in the symbology of tarot derives in large measure from our own intuition and, once revealed, reflects back upon each of us to further enrich our lives.” As I said above pile three, you are highly intuitive but you do not tap into it. Instead, you choose to ignore it and pretend it doesn’t exist, and to that, this person is telling you that your intuition is not a bad thing, in fact, once you start listening to it, it will actually improve your quality of life. The King of Cups represents an advisor, someone who is very balanced between their head and their heart. This person wants you to know that they are in your life to help you, to guide you and it is time you start to actually listen to what they have to say. They say you worry too much, that you think way too much about the what-ifs, and that you are letting your ego get in the way too much when it comes to your spirituality. Instead, you need to just let go, and let your intuition guide you with the aid of this person. It can be troublesome when you have control issues to let go and let something or someone else take control but, it’s important to remember that your intuition is also a part of you. So, when you’re letting go and letting your intuition take over it is still you in control just not the part of you that over-intellectualizes everything. Overall, it seems like their message to you is to stop hiding from your spirituality and to actually start tapping into it. It’s time for you to start living a spiritually fulfilled life.
Why haven’t you been able to receive this message?
Page of Cups, Knight of Pentacles, and The Star:
I think this is where I am getting your inner child coming forward. It seems as though your inner child is the reason you are not able to receive this message and I think this is because a lot of your defense mechanisms are coming from the wounded part of your inner child. You as you are currently, are very hard-working and practical, however, your inner child is the opposite. It seems like you have some very deep wounds from your childhood that you have not dealt with which is what has been causing you to block out these messages. Since you have not healed your inner child, and instead choose to ignore that part of yourself as well, you are stuck and will continue to be stuck until you address these issues that are holding you back and making you not see these messages that are coming through.
How can you better receive this message in the future?
The Emperor, The High Priestess, and King of Swords:
What is interesting to me, pile three, is that you have control issues yet, when it comes to healing parts of yourself and working on your spirituality, you act as though it is out of your control. I know I said above that you need to give up your control issues when it comes to your spirituality and listening to this mentor but that does not mean that you just give up and do nothing. You are still in control of your life and are in the driver's seat of your life so, what this means when it comes to your spirituality and your healing journey, is you need to listen to the advice of this mentor and then make the moves for yourself. Give up your control and need to be the one who makes all the decisions. Instead, let this mentor guide you while you implement their practice and advice into your life.
Bottom of the deck energy:
Six of Cups:
The whole underlying energy of this reading is nostalgia and memories. What this confirms for me is that some healing needs to be done when it comes to your past traumas because they are what is holding you back right now.
The colors gold and purple were big with this pile so, they may have some significance to you.
For some, it may be that you should start wearing gold jewelry, or surrounding yourself with gold decor while you practice your spirituality.
Fruit was a big symbol with this pile as well, specifically red fruit. To me, this is a message from this deity that they want you to start eating more red fruit and if you have an altar for this deity they may want you to leave them some red fruits.
I was also hearing “days of the week” so, some of you may need to start scheduling times throughout the days to sit down and work on your spirituality. For some of you, this may be the only way that you will actually do it.
More Specific Messages (Extended Reading)
#tarot reading#pick a pile#pick a card#tarot#oracle readings#oracle#astrology#Aries#Taurus#cancer#Gemini#Leo#Virgo#Libra#Scorpio#sagittarius#capricorn#aquarius#pisces#aphrostarot
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Pick a pile
Who are they as a person?
(Pick from left to right)
Pile 1:
The person you're inquiring about values honesty and straight-forwardness more than anything else; they're someone who likes to wear good clothes, put some perfume on, take care of their hygiene, and appear as their best version. They do care about how they look in other people's eyes. This person may have cat eyes. They like to analyse other people; they can be a bit judgy. They like to take other people's views and opinions into consideration. This person likes to end up with the best solution possible, so they're not actually quick on acting on things; they like to sit, contemplate, take different points into consideration, and then decide how to act. They're controversial in a way where they care about others outlook in a situation where they can become a sheep in the herd, and other times they listen only to their thoughts when deciding on something. This person believes in taking what is theirs and what is considered their right by every means possible. Air signs, capricorn.
Pile 2:
This person is very artistic and creative; they have a genius about them; they're youthful in spirit, mostly joyous and lively; they're people who believe in friendships and like to form strong emotional bonds with other people. They're very sensitive, and they take criticism to heart. They care about other people, and they don't want their loved ones to be hurt. They mostly think of other people's feelings before doing something. I see that they're mostly introverted and secretive. Because of their emotional nature, they could worry about things that aren't always that grave. They sometimes have trouble discerning good from bad people; they could have gotten backstabbed several times before, so they started being more careful now about who they let into their circle. They're not very serious people; they like to explore and question everything. They like to be free. Although they're a bit introverted, they like to have company, they like to express the way they feel, they're good with words, and they like to show how they feel using body language as well. They get easily irritated; their emotions can get a hold on them sometimes. Pisces, Scorpio, and Sag.
Pile 3:
This person likes to make deals and they're really good at what they do. This person is too involved in their senses and in things that are going on around them at their work, in their business, in whatever they do; they're skilled at it, but they're stuck with their all in there. If they don't get what they're aiming for, then they get really competitive and forceful. They're very competitive people; if they see something they like, they want it; they like the finer things in life; they want to reach their goals. They are generally complicated and layered people; their intentions are not easily known, and they're not open about themselves. They're generally not clear because of the competition around them and the battle going on inside them. Gemini, Leo, and fire signs. They are pretty aware of how cruel the world can get.
#channeled message#channeled reading#intuitive tarot reader#pac reading#pick a pile#pick a card#tarot community#tarot reading#tarot#intuitive messages
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Coconuts
idk where this came from tbh but I loved how It came out. 95% smut but I know y'all will never complain about that so :p
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WC-4.6k
Warnings- smut, teasing, slight public play If you squint, slight degradation, but lighter compared to our other stuff. Cute
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Y/N could feel his eyes on her as she walked back towards him on the beach, his sunglasses doing little to hide the stare down he was having with her body. She’d known that this bathing suit would probably make him a little handsy, but it had been vastly underestimated how much it would distract him. There was not a single word being absorbed around him and she sort of felt like prey as she made her way to the rented cabana, tummy rumbling with both nerves and anticipation.
“What’s this, darling?” He asked as she flipped her sandals off on the raised wooden platform to avoid the spread of sand the best she could. He’d beaten her out here to set up their towels and made sure the daybed was good to go, as Y/N couldn’t handle another full day in the sun and needed the coverage the cabana would offer. He was being a doting and sweet boyfriend and she’d been planning on making him crazy.
“Hm? Oh, I got us those drinks in the coconuts.” She hummed, handing him one. It was part of the charm, their vacation essential, but he didn’t give the drink a second look before placing it on the little side table offered with the package. A tingle ran up her spine as warm hands grabbed the back of her thighs, urging her to step between his spread thighs while his brows furrowed behind the tinted lenses.
“You know that’s not what m’talking about, love.” He winced slightly at the light as Y/N pushed the glasses up into his hair so she could see his mossy eyes, resting her hand on his warm shoulder before taking a sip from her drink. It was a coconut rum cream type of thing and she knew she was going to be wasted on these, but that was the point. Wasn’t it?
But she was playing coy, tilting her head to the side as she gave him a look. “What do you mean, then?” It was exciting to play games with him. To tease him. Harry was a passionate man with a lot of redeeming qualities, but he was the most fun to tease. To watch him narrow his eyes at her and think about how she was most definitely going to pay for it later. It spiked her adrenaline, heartbeat quickening as his hands moved over her ass and to her hips. His thumbs dug into the dips back there, a deep exhale leaving his mouth and washing over her bare belly, heat pooling between her thighs as he leaned forward to press a chaste kiss right above her belly button.
“This bathing suit. I didn’t see you pack it.” He let her off the hook for playing dumb, rubbing his circles into the dips as he watched the corner of her lip temple as if trying not to smile. “I would remember a little thing like this. Barely fuckin’ there, is it?” His eyes found the tied strings at the sides of her waist. That was dangerous and the entire point. It was a deep red, the smallest thing she’d ever worn in public, and tied behind her neck and at her hips with flimsy strings. It was made to taunt him, make him needier than ever, and a bit of payback from the tiny yellow shorts he loved to wear. He knew just how much she loved his thighs and exactly what it did to her to see them exposed. Knowing what she liked to do on his bare thigh, right over the tattooed tiger.
“Oh, this old thing?” She smiled as innocently as she could. “It’s something from a few years back. I think my chest has gotten bigger since I originally bought it, but that’s not a problem… is it?”
“Actually,” Harry breathed. “It is.” He was quick to pull her into his lap, a squeak leaving her as he gave her a dark look. “Because you know exactly what this was going to do t’me and how it was going to make me feel, and you put it on anyway. You, you can hide when that perfect cunt gets wet and sticky. But me?” He glanced around before pulling her further over his lap so she could feel the growing bulge in his own bathing suit. “Can’t do much without scarring the rest of the people at this beach. You’re causing problems on purpose.” The voice he used was hushed and deep, going straight to her core. Of course it was the goal to get in trouble, but his reaction had been better than she anticipated. He shifted her slightly on his lap, subtly moving her over his length under the guise of adjusting her. “How do you think this is supposed t’get fixed? Want me to go have a wank in the restroom?”
“Nuh-uh.” She grinned. “I told you. I want all of you this trip.” Leaning to the side to place her own drink down, he hissed at the movement of her over his growing prick. “You’re not wasting a drop of you. It’ll get fixed, but m’not gonna rush off the beach before I’ve had my drink.” She shrugged, taking her hand that had been cooled by said drink to hold the side of his neck. There was a lot more satisfaction than she could admit when she saw him shiver at the temperature change. “This is my payback for those stupid yellow shorts you wore yesterday.”
Harry knew she could be vengeful. This cat and mouse game that had been him pursuing her had bled into the relationship and he loved that she liked to tease- but he loved that she was seeking a punishment out of it. “You know what I did in return for that?” He clicked his tongue. “I took you to the dressing area and fingered you until you dripped down my fingers. Had to hold your loud fucking mouth quiet, but I took care of it.” It wasn’t doing much good to think of it, especially considering his current predicament of trying not to get painfully hard, but it was one of his favorite things they’d ever done. Making Y/N melt into a desperate, horny mess had been one of his favorite pleasures in life, but knowing she was too needy to wait had stroked his ego.
The roles reversed, though? He wasn’t too sure. It would be noticeable if she was on her knees in the dressing tents, not just looking like an innocent couple leaving more tents open by changing under the same curtain. Her chest was distracting. It was glistening from the aftermath of freshly applied suncream, her breasts on full display and hanging just the way he liked. This bathing suit was his personal heaven. Or hell. He hadn’t quite decided yet.
“So how are you going to take care of me?”
Y/N knew she had been a little cruel, sure, but she could still feel the slight ache from how he’d fucked her last night. She wanted it again, but harder. He’d been a little soft beforehand and she figured he’d make use out of a little motivation.
“Aw, my poor baby.” She cooed, stroking his jaw as it clenched. “Getting hard for me. Can’t help it when you see my tits, hm? Or is it all of it?” There was a moment she pretended to think while he glared at her. “Probably all. But I’m not extremely cruel, Harry. Just giving you a taste of your own medicine. You failed to mention that you made me wait 3 hours until you took care of me.” It felt longer. “So we’re going to sit on this beach for 2. I’m going to have my drink, read my book, enjoy the warm breeze, and you’re going to sit with me. Then we can go back to the villa and you can do as you please.” She hummed, placing a wet kiss to his forehead before standing up from his lap. A towel was tossed his way, which he failed to catch because he was trying to pull her back into his lap. “Use this to hide yourself.” The smugness she felt was unmatched as she grabbed her book and found her way to the other side of the daybed, laying on her back to start the hardest reading session of her life.
—--
Harry didn’t make it easy on her. Not that she thought he would, considering she knew both of their histories of being menaces when in the mood, but she hadn’t expected to be so heavily affected by simple touches.
His fingers drew circles over her exposed hip as he spooned her, pretending to read over her shoulder. Quiet breaths puffed over the side of her neck as he nuzzled into her, sponging kisses there like clockwork. It was chaste enough that she couldn’t really scold him for it, but that didn’t mean it didn’t make her throb between her legs. It was her fault, she was torturing her own self with drawn out foreplay. Y/N rarely ever made Harry wait for it- she was far too greedy- so she struggled with holding her guns as she felt his fingers move further down to the bottom of her stomach, thumbing over the top of the little bathing suit bottoms.
It was a miracle she’d survived that far, and despite it only being an hour and 42 minutes, she thinks that it was good enough.
Pushing her into the villa, Harry’s hands rushed to tug the strings off of the suit, starting with the bottoms. “You evil little thing.” He growled against her mouth, pressing her up against the door as the red fabric fell to the ground and his hand slipped between her thighs. “What was the point of that, hm? You like being bad, pissing me off?” Fingers slid between her swollen, soaked folds and coated his skin just the way he knew it would. “Tortured yourself too. Could have just told me you wanted me to fuck you again and we could have spent the day in here.”
Y/N whined as she felt a digit sink into her, leaning further back against the door as he moved it slowly in and out of her. His fingers were thicker than her own, longer, making it much easier for him to reach places she couldn’t when she pleasured herself. His hands had always been a weakness for her, knowing how skilled he was in using them to create both art and pleasure. Coaxing the perfect orgasms from her since he’d met her. “Y-You teased me first.” She huffed, eyes fluttering as his mouth sucked over a part of her jaw that he knew would make her weaken. “What did you expect?”
“I expected you to be a big girl and tell me what you wanted, rather than parade around in this slutty little bathing suit and make me wait two hours before I could do anything about it.” He grumbled, teeth scraping over skin making her whimper. “I expected you to keep me in bed and spread your gorgeous thighs for me and tell me that you’re the neediest little thing, and you want my cock. I would have done it in a heartbeat. Instead, you chose to be a fucking brat. Because if you wanted to work me up, if you wanted me to be frustrated? It worked.” His opposite hand came down on her bare ass, the slap resonating through the villa and sting making her gasp. “What was the end goal?”
His finger was joined by another, making her eyes flutter and her brain slow down a little bit. He knew what he was doing- he always did. “Just wanted you to feel… to feel like I did. You made me wait and…” Her voice trailed off as it bled into a moan, his fingers hooking just so to hit the spot she needed.
“And?” He asked expectantly. “And what, sweetheart. Because I recall taking care of you. Even soaking, no one could tell. But everyone would be able to see my dick if I didn’t have that towel. Is that what you wanted? Wanted everyone to see me?”
“No!” She hissed. “No it’s- It’s mine. I just wanted, I wanted you to feel what I felt.” Her head fell back against the door with a thump, spreading her legs a bit more. Harry knew exactly what he was doing, he knew exactly what to do to make her weak. His quickening fingers and his hand gripping the side of her ass, he was making her see that she was definitely going to pay for it. “You’ve been driving me crazy the whole vacation and I… fuck.” Her words trailed off, the feel of the heel of his hand tapping against her clit with his thrusts making her brain fuzzy.
“You think you haven’t been driving me insane this whole time?” He asked, tone incredulous. “Think I havent been losing my fucking mind watching you walk around in these little bathing suits and sundresses? Think I haven’t had to be mindful of what m’wearing or what we’re doing because all I want to do is bend you over and hike up those dresses or pull down those bottoms and sink right back where I belong?” His voice hissed against her ear as he kissed over the side of neck, the sloppy pecks making her breathing pick up. “Because I have been fucking insane, I’ve been trying to be decent and make sure m’not hogging you in bed and let you go to the beaches and to the shops and to dinner, but I’d be perfectly happy with you in here, with our view of the ocean and you warming my cock.”
Y/N could feel herself getting close. It was hard not to with how worked up she’d gotten trying to tease him, the way he was talking to her, how his fingers always managed to coax the orgasms out of her faster than anyone else- including herself- ever had. “I would have- I would have, I want that, please.” She begged, which Harry knew all too well what that tone of voice meant. She was deliciously close, the slick of her arousal dribbling down his hand and she was just right there-
And he stopped. Y/N whined, tears welling in her eyes as she looked at him in disbelief. He was so generous with her pleasure that she hadn’t been expecting that in the slightest.
“If you hadn’t been a brat, maybe I would have let you.” He took his fingers from her, bringing them up to his mouth and made a show of licking them clean. Running them over his tongue with a soft hum and making a show of it as she scowled. “Mmm, none of that, my angel. You’ll get what you want. Just be patient.” Without another word he lifted her up, making her squeal as she was carried across the place before being deposited in the bed. Seeing as he was shirtless still, it was quick work to get himself naked, shorts kicked off to the side as he crawled up the bed and found her mouth right away.
She could taste herself on his tongue as he kissed her deeply, fingers finding the knots behind her neck to undo the swimsuit. It was quick work to pull the cups down, exposing the soft chest he had been obsessed with since day one. Pulling away with wet lips, he looked down at her exposed breasts, pebbled nipples calling to him as he grabbed under her arms to pull her up on the bed and stayed right where he was. “You know how cruel it is to have these right in front of my face, unable to do a thing?” His hushed words made her nod. She did know, she knew exactly how much he loved her chest and just how crazy it would drive him. “I know you did, pet. You know how much I fucking love your body.” His fingers plucked both nipples, squeezing lightly to make her gasp.
“I’m sorry.” She whispered, feeling the heat throbbing even hotter as she looked at her. There was something in his eyes, the full lust, the desire and hunger that made her feel like the most desired person in the world. Like no one else could compare. Harry had the ability to make her feel as if she was the only one he’d ever had eyes for, the only one he ever would. She wanted to be his forever, hold on to this feeling and let it grow. “I’m sorry, I just wanted you.” Her whine was cute, he thought, but the apology didn’t cut it.
“I don’t think you are, my love. But you will be.” The man’s tongue brushed through the valley between her breasts, tasting the salt of her skin and the ocean air as it moved to the right one. He was getting her wet as he trailed down to her nipple, moving his fingers out of the way so he could do his job.
If you asked Harry if he was an ass or breast man, he’d tell you he was both- but he had a significant soft spot for Y/N’s chest. He’d been obsessed since the first time he saw her, but more so the first time she took her shirt off and let him suck on her. She was so sensitive, the little whimper she let out proving it as her fingers threaded into her hair and she pushed him further into the soft flesh. Hips moving while she tried to grind against his thigh feeling his lips pull more of her nipple into his mouth and sucked on the raised skin.
“Fuck me.” Y/N breathed, Harry’s thigh giving her a bit of mercy as he pressed it against her cunt. It limited how high she could move her hips, but he didn’t stop her from rubbing against him. His lips pulled and sucked, swirling his tongue over the nipple as he groaned against her breast. She could feel his cock against her thigh, feel it leaking over her skin and felt the desperation rising in her stomach to get him inside. She craved it just as much as he did, and had half a mind to demand him to make good on his promise of keeping him tucked inside of her so they could go again and again and again. It was an addiction, how his body made her feel. Desperate and needy, wet and achy, she had the best man to take care of her but he loved to fucking tease. “Inside me, please. I’ll be good, you can do it hard, I just need it. M’empty.”
Harry ignored her, pulling off of her right nipple and switching to her left. This time, though, he kept his eyes open and watched her face scrunch up with pleasure. It was able to be felt smeared all over his thigh as she ground herself against it, making a mess of him before he was even inside of her, but he loved it. Making her this desperate was his favorite thing to do and it wasn’t hard. His girl was sensitive and needy and he took pleasure in making her teary and begging for him. It was his payback.
Y/N mewled as his teeth scraped over the swollen nipple, hips jerking and hands tugging sharply at his hair which only spurred him on further. Sucking harder on the bud and making her keen out loud, hips bucking into the air before he finally released her. If he did too much he could probably make her finish from that, but that was something he wanted to try another day. His dick had been throbbing for hours now, and he wanted some relief.
“Lay on your stomach.” He ordered, watching her scramble to listen. He had gotten his point across and he knew it, a self satisfied smirk coming on his face as he pulled his briefs down and gave himself a few tugs. She laid down just as he said, her cheek to the pillow as she looked back at him with a soft pout on her lips. His sweet girl, desperate for his cock but trying to make it up to him now for being a tease. “Looks like you can listen. I’m so proud of you.” He crooned, kneeling on the bed and finding himself between her spread legs. “Ass up for me, darling girl. Let me see.”
She did as asked again, shuffling her knees so she was spread and tilted up for him. Her cunt was dripping and hot, empty and aching for him to fill her. Her plan had backfired significantly but at the end of the day, all she wanted was his cock. That’s been the goal this whole time. “Please. I need it, H.” She whispered, gripping the white sheets. “Give it to me. I can take it. M’sorry for teasing you.”
“I’m sure you are.” His hand spread her ass open, spitting over her hole and letting it drip down to her swollen clit where he took the tip of his cock and spread it all over her. “You know, I had a plan t’punish you even more, but.. Turns out, I’m fucking weak for this cunt.” He sighed, pushing the head into her and watching it stretch her a little bit. “I’m just as greedy for it. So m’gonna be nice to you and give you what you want, but I’ll remember this later.” His head pulled forward as he sunk deeper in, the hot channel making his brain go a bit fuzzy.
“Fuck, you’ve got perfect pussy, baby.” His tough exterior faded as his hips met her ass, exhaling sharply. “Can’t resist it. Make me a fucking mess every time.” The warm air flowed into their villa through the open door with the sea view, making him pause. Leaning down, he wrapped a hand around her throat and pulled her up to look at it, letting her shaky arms hold herself up as he began to thrust into her welcoming cunt. “Look at where I’ve brought you, baby. Beautiful views, but… This one will always be my favorite.” Lips brushed her ear as the sloppy sound of her soaked cunt being fucked by his prick filled the room. “Seeing you take my cock is my favorite thing. Most beautiful thing in the world, love that you let me own you like this.” His lips pressed against her cheek as she moaned. The firm grip around her throat had her fuzzy, this position making him feel so goddamn deep that she could barely breathe.
“I love it, I love you. Love your cock, love how you make me feel.” She babbled. “Just… Don’t pull out. Please.” Her begging seemed to spur him on, the slap of skin against skin getting louder while he fucked into her. The man was always greedy for her but his sexual frustration was showing, not at all going easy on her. It wasn’t mean, it wasn’t punishment, but pure lust. This was need, and Y/N was happy to be on the receiving end of it.
“M’not going to, baby. Promised you that you could have every drop.” He was nearly purring, breathing a bit heavy but more than satisfied as he fucked into her over and over again. “That’s a lot of love, but m’happy to hear it. Just want to make you happy, make you feel amazing. Don’t have to tease me to have my cock next time… just have to ask me in that pretty voice and give me those gorgeous eyes and I’ll give you anything you want.”
Y/N nodded even though his words sort of went through her. His slight adjustment to his position had him hitting the spot he needed to hit and she was making a fucking mess. She knew she was, hearing the wet sound increasing as he cursed under his breath. It was hard for her not to shudder as she gushed around him, feeling his balls tap against her clit as her watery eyes were forced to look out to the ocean. No words could leave her besides his name and a string of moans. His name was the only important thing, according to her brain.
“Got your cunt all sloppy for me… god, baby… I love you.” He moaned, feeling a little wrecked as he took a glance down to see himself covered in her. Wet and glistening from her how good he was giving it to her, it was another one of his favorite views. “Love my sweet girl and her sweet pussy, m’gonna give it to you over and over… fuck, you’re going to make me cum.” It was hard to keep holding on. Her skin was hot and he could feel he ragged breathing against his palm, her pulse thundering against his fingertips as he worked his prick into her weeping hole. “Never going to stop makin’ love to you, my perfect girl.”
Her orgasm surprised them both. He felt it come on as she whimpered his name, rippling against his cock and squeezing him hard as she shuddered underneath him. Her body fell forwards on the bed and he was done for, releasing her throat to fall on top of her and give a few more sloppy thrusts. A guttural groan left his throat as he buried his face into her neck, feeling his cock pulse and balls tighten as he unloaded inside of her. Keeping himself buried as promised, he ground himself as deep as he could and let it stay deep as his hips twitched, breathing heavy and hot against her skin. “Shit- god.” He croaked, pressing a sloppy stream of kisses from her neck to her cheek. “Fucks sake. Knew I wasn’t going to last a long time but, christ.” A drunken laugh left his throat as she hummed, turning her face with a pout.
“Kissy?” She whispered, lips puckering and effectively making his heart melt. He’d never say no to a kiss from her. It was an immediate wish granted, leaning closer to kiss her but making them both moan as the shift made his cock push further into her. He didn’t break away for a few moments though, pressing sticky pecks to her lips and sighing happily once she laid her cheek back on the pillow.
“Have a really hard time saying no t’you, sweetheart.” He admitted, keeping his face in her neck as he tried to recover.
“Good.” The girl’s voice was still a little shaky. “So you’ll go get me another coconut drink before we go again?”
“Again?” He laughed against her skin, biting down gently to make her yelp. “Fucking minx, my lovely little slut. Course she wants t’go again. I shouldn't have given you the benefit of the doubt. You’re my greedy girl.” Though no one would ever hear Harry complaining about that. His recovery time may need a bit of work if they were going to spend all day here though. “I’m gonna say yes, but only because I want you to lay here and keep my cum inside you.” The man was definitely catching her onto her neediness. “As hot as it is when it drips down your thigh, we don’t want to waste any. So lay here and be pretty for me while I go get you that silly little drink. M’not gonna go as easy next time.”
“Sounds perfect.” The giggle was music to his damn ears. “But don’t forget the cute little umbrella, kay? Need it to be part of the experience.”
#jarofstyles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfic#harry styles smut#harry writing#harry styles imagine#harry drabble#harry styles blurb#harry styles writing#harry styles fluff#harry styles au#harry fluff#harry smut#harry styles one shots#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfics
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All I Need | Renjun Imagine #6
Title: All I Need
Genre: Fluff, kinda angsty
Warnings: mentions of mental health, vague mentions of anxiety, a little suggestive, making out
Word Count: 531
Author's Note: This was a request from an anon, and technically my request box is closed. However, I thought the idea they gave was cute and thought it wouldn't hurt to write a little something for Renjun. I feel like I don't write enough stories where the reader is comforting the member, rather than vice versa. And I know Renjun won't see this (thank God), but I truly believe he deserves the world and I sincerely hope he's getting the rest he needs for his physical and mental health. I hope those who are also struggling are taking care of themselves too. Thank you for reading ^ ^
P.S. I have quite a few things I'm working on writing-wise so please look forward to my future works!
𓆩⟡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪
When you noticed Renjun’s declining mental health and encouraged him to take a break, you didn’t think he’d actually listen to your advice. You were aware of the concerns and disheartenment that came after the company’s announcement about him not participating in upcoming activities. Despite your boyfriend’s evident disappointment over not performing with his members, you were grateful for his decision to prioritize his well-being.
Shortly after the announcement was made, you headed over to his dorm in hopes of lifting his spirits. When a physically and emotionally exhausted Renjun opened the door to you holding a Moomin plushie and a grocery bag of ingredients for hot pot, he never felt more loved. Not a second was wasted before he was pulling you into a tight embrace.
“Thank you for being here with me,” he murmured, prompting a small smile to grace your lips.
Returning his hug, you rested your chin on his shoulder. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
For the first time in a while, the two of you enjoyed a quiet evening where you ate good food and caught up on your lives. After dinner, Renjun pulled you into his room for some much-needed cuddles. Nestled in his bed, you let him be the small spoon as he shared what had been troubling him lately.
“I wish I could take all your pain away,” you said quietly, subconsciously tracing the contours of his face.
The boy’s eyes glimmered with appreciation, and he relaxed under your touch. “Even if you could, I wouldn’t let you.”
Your lips parted to rebut his words but were stopped by a warm pair of lips pressing against yours. With widened eyes, you saw Renjun’s endearing expression after he pulled away.
“You’re all I need,” he whispered, before leaning in once more.
Admittedly, you thought the second kiss would be the last for the night. But Renjun didn’t stop this time, catching you a little off guard. Even though after a year of dating, intimacy had not been extensively explored in your relationship. Mainly because the both of you had boundaries and wanted to respect them, but this…this kiss that seemed to stretch on and on, and you didn’t hate it.
His lips moved slowly against yours, as his fingers traced feather-light patterns along your jawline. With gentle pressure, he tilted your chin upward for a better angle to deepen the kiss. Eventually, you stopped letting your thoughts distract you and gradually allowed yourself to surrender to the moment. Your hands found their way to his back, pulling him closer as you kissed back in hopes of conveying all the comfort you wanted to give him.
It was enticing, losing yourself in this shared intimacy. Then when you finally parted for air, you noticed the glisten of tears in Renjun’s eyes.
“I love you,” he whispered against your lips, “so very much.”
You smiled, feeling your eyes get glossy as well. “I love you too, Jun.”
He embraced you once more, holding you closer than ever. It was at this moment when you silently promised to stay by Renjun’s side forever.
If you were all he needed, then you were willing to give everything.
𓆩⟡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪
previous masterlist -> current masterlist
#nct dream#nctzen#kpop#czennie#nct dream imagines#nct dream fluff#nct dream scenarios#huang renjun#renjun x reader#renjun imagines#nct#renjun scenarios#renjun fluff#nct dream angst#renjunnie#injun
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we need more felix and lovie content i miss themmm
i miss them too,, i have so many drafts and half finished fics with them but i've had so little energy/time to actually finish any of them bc of finals
but i'm pretty caught up with school rn (by tuesday i'll be on summer break!!) so here's a bit of an i'm-sorry-for-being-absent drabble :)
The nail of your thumb drags against the edge of the page, finally getting the glue to fully adhere to the page.
You press your back against the wood surface of your desk chair to admire your handiwork. The background of your latest scrapbook page has come together just the way you wanted it to. You pick up the book carefully before turning your body.
"Lex," you beam.
Felix doesn't sit up fully, but he does lift his head. The arm holding up his copy of the latest Harry Potter relaxing. "Oh," he mumbles it in that way that reminds you of one of the things you like best about him. He has this talent for giving attention. Where other people would just be polite without a second thought, Felix takes the time to really look before commending.
He pushes himself up in a way that awkwardly squishes your pillow. "That's good." Felix straightens, legs crossing beneath him. "That's really good, Lovie." His thumb tucks itself between the pages of his book, a make shift bookmark. "The edges, the paper..."
"Thank you." Another thing you love about Felix is the fact that you can always tell he means his praise. You turn forward, setting your scrapbook back onto your desk. "You should make one."
The corner of his mouth pulls itself into a version of a smile that's so soft you almost miss it. "Yeah?" You nod. Felix's smile shifts into something more assured. "Maybe tomorrow night."
You try to picture Felix spending a Saturday night in either your room or his, cutting up scraps of paper and gluing them down instead of at a bar or some party. The thought makes your feel warm in that way that's so exclusively Felix. It also feels blurry, intangible in its unlikeliness.
As happy as it'd make you, tonight was already surprising enough. It's not like Felix goes out every night, and this isn't the first time the two of you have stayed in on a Friday, but nights like these are rare. You can't picture two of these in a row.
"Tomorrow?" You pull your legs out from under your desk, entire body angling itself to the side so that it's easier to look at him. "Tomorrow's Saturday."
He lets out a partial laugh. "And you're dying for a rager?"
"No," you mumble, dragging out the vowel sound in an attempt to sound more sarcastic. "But you like going out." You lean forward, resting your chin against the chair's back. "And it's not like I hate going out, especially with you..." You trail off, eyes shifting away from Felix and towards the bed post closest to you. "And I don't want to be the reason you don't do things you like."
For a beat, the only sound is the low, rhythmic tapping of Felix's pointer finger against the spine of his book. "I like a lot of things."
You lift your head. "I know."
"I like doing things with you."
The warmth comes back with a vengeance. You tap your thumb against the side of your seat for the sake of doing something. "Me too."
Felix shifts, extending one leg to make himself more comfortable. "Good." He's so quiet for a second, you almost think that might be the end of the conversation. You're about to go back to picking out the pictures to finish off the page you'd been working on when he starts again, "So you don't need to worry about me resenting you."
Your eyes narrow. "I didn't say anything about you resenting me." Your chin lifts slightly, an attempt at displaying your indignation. "Why are you saying it like that was an option?"
He grins, dropping himself back onto your pillow. "No reason."
You roll your eyes at his sarcasm. He's the one that came over to your room without being asked to. "Sure."
"What?" His tone implies nothing but perfect innocence. He picks up his book, opening it as if he's done nothing wrong. "Y'should come over here before the resentment sets in and I lose all interest."
You let out a loud sigh, but move to stand regardless. "Yeah, that feels like a real possibility."
When you don't move, Felix glances away from his book. "You're not gonna come over here?" He looks up at you, a hint of a pout playing at his expression. "I was kidding."
You cross your arms, fighting against a smile. "I just stood up." That's not enough to convince him to stop looking at you like that. You take a few steps forward with a sigh that's more out of habit than anything else. "You are so dramatic."
You sit on your bed, crossing your legs beneath you. Felix shifts onto his side. His freehand finds your knee. "You cried because of this book."
Eyes narrowing, you lean forward to get a better sense of how far into the book he's gotten. "Wait a few chapters."
Felix snaps his head in your direction, "Lovie. You said you wouldn't--" Your sentence runs into his, "I didn't--I didn't spoil it."
He frowns, watching you skeptically. "That was mean."
"You started it." You're aware that you sound like a little kid, but you can't help it. With a sigh, you give up, laying down. He's taking up most of your bed, but you're far from uncomfortable. "Fine. I'm sorry."
With little warning, Felix leans forward and presses a kiss against your temple. "Want me to read to you?"
You're used to Felix's random displays of affection, but every once in awhile something will take you by so much surprise you feel it more than you should. You blink. "Yeah," you mumble, hoping that your voice comes out even, "Sounds nice."
Felix shifts onto his back, one hand finding your arm and the other holding his book.
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