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undressrehearsal · 4 days

Text

is it casual now?

chapter 1

summary: you and ellie agreed that this was just for a little fun - so what's the harm in her inviting you to joel's for a movie night?

word count: 2.3k

tags: nsfw, fingering (e and r receiving), angst, dub con?? i think?, does this count as public sex?, this shit's messy af y'all, mean reader, toxic relationship

a/n: i've wanted to write a fic based off this song for a while now. i've seen a few people write it (the song's a banger) but i only ever see ellie being written as the distant toxic one and tbh i don't think that matches her character so here's the opposite

also i hid a one last stop reference in here if you find it you get a prize (it's not hard to find)

if you wanna be tagged in the things i post, just lmk in the replies!

Joel was trying to decide what movie you should watch.

At least, Ellie thought he was. She could see the way his lips were moving - could even make out the words Dawn of the Wolf, whatever that meant - but she couldn’t actually hear him. She sat across from him at the dining table, nodding along, trying to school her expression into a pantomime of interest, but his words were drowned out by the ringing in her ears.

Your hand on her thigh crept higher.

Ellie shifted in the uncomfortable wood chair, uncrossing her legs only to recross them, and your hand didn’t move. You stroked slow circles into her jeans with your thumb; she would have thought it was absentminded if she didn’t know you so well. Ellie could see you in her peripheral. You smiled politely, nodding along as Joel listed off what movies he had found lately - it had become his mission to hunt for them while he was on patrol. (He always insisted that Ellie needed to be familiar with all the classics from before the outbreak.)

Somewhere past the sound of her heart pounding in her ears, Ellie heard Joel say her name. She blinked, shifted in her seat again, and replied intelligently, “Huh?”

He shook his head at her and laughed as he said, “Where you at, kiddo?”

She ran a hand through her hair, purposely avoiding looking at you - she knew she’d only find that shit-eating smile on your face. “Sorry, had patrol late last night. Yeah, that movie sounds cool.” She had no idea what movie he had suggested.

It didn’t matter much in the end. After switching off the lights, Joel sat back in his big old recliner (he’d looked like a fucking kid on Christmas morning when Tommy gave that to him), leaving the couch to you and Ellie. You leaned into her with your head on her shoulder; she had her arm draped over the back of the couch, not quite touching you. She was dancing a fine line between wanting to hold you and knowing you wouldn’t let her, but the tightrope was slipping from under her feet because you had put your fucking hand on her thigh again. She’d swear there was a damn magnet connecting your hand to her.

Ellie covered a gasp with a cough when your hand drifted between her legs. Your eyes were glued to the flickering television, but there was no hiding the small, satisfied smile on your lips. And she fucking hated herself for wanting to kiss it more than anything.

The tattered blanket you shared covered up the fact that the tips of your fingers were grazing across the seam of her jeans. Even the ghost of friction made her squirm, the movie becoming nothing more than white noise. You were too fucking bold, and her head spun when your nimble fingers undid the button and slid the zipper down so slowly it ached. When your fingertips dipped below the waistband of her boxers, she couldn’t stop herself from glancing at Joel. He was enthralled in the movie, and she couldn’t even pay attention to it; she hated herself for that too.

She knew she shouldn’t; she knew she should’ve grabbed your wrist, told you to stop so she could just enjoy the movie with her… with Joel. He’d been trying to plan a movie night with her for a week, and tonight she had finally been free from patrol. God, she shouldn’t have invited you, but when he asked if she wanted to bring a friend, of course your name had popped up.

She should have known it would be a mistake - an intoxicating one, but a mistake nonetheless. And when you dragged your fingers over her, pressing the lightest pressure to her clit, it took everything in her not to tilt her hips against your hand in search of friction.

Ellie bit down on her lip so hard she'd swear she tasted blood when you dipped just the tips of your fingers inside her. It was embarrassing how easy it was - how wet she already was and you had hardly even touched her. But when you circled her clit, your fingers already soaked, the shame burning in her chest evaporated. Her eyes fluttered, heat burning in her stomach, your touch setting her aflame. Her fingers dug into the back of the couch. She longed to touch you, to just wrap her arm around you and hold you close, press your head to her chest so you could hear how her heart reached for you.

Instead, she could only grip the couch behind your shoulder, gritting her teeth against the ache of it. You didn't even look at her, playing with her as though it were an afterthought, but there was no missing the smirk on your lips. She hated it; God, she wanted to kiss you.

Ellie didn't dare look at Joel - she didn't think she could handle seeing him so engrossed in the movie he had been so excited to show her while she sat only a few feet away, coming undone on his couch. She couldn't handle the shame rising in her throat again. If she looked at him, she was sure she'd be sick right there.

She tried so hard to keep it together - her hips ached from the force of holding them still, her lip surely cracked from biting it. Her chest burned with the moans she had to swallow like acid. But she couldn't keep it all in - it was overflowing. And when finally, the coil in her stomach threatening to snap, a low groan spilled from her lips, Joel turned to look at her.

Ellie didn't want to think about what he saw, but whatever it was, it made his brow pinch in concern. She couldn't meet his worried eyes when he said, “You okay, kiddo? You don't look too good.”

Your fingers hadn't even fucking slowed. You looked at her with a mask of concern, batting your eyes so innocently even as you pressed your fingers into her, curling them so you hit that spot that made her see stars. And then Ellie did grab you, gripping your shoulder in warning and glaring down at you. You wrinkled your nose, but relented and slid your fingers out of her; her grip tightened when you slid back over her clit. Fuck, she never should've invited you.

Ellie cleared her throat; she couldn't look at either of you without feeling sick, so she turned her gaze to the movie. What was it even about?

“Sorry, I just-” Her voice was strained, suffocating in her own throat. She felt like she was going to swallow her own tongue. The coil in her stomach tightened and she felt nauseous. She groaned again, and the words tripped over themselves in a rush when she said, “I don't feel good.”

Ellie stumbled to her feet, forcing you to withdraw your hand; when she glanced down, she could see that your fingers were wet and it made her stomach twist. Keeping one hand over her stomach to hide the fact that her fucking pants were undone, she hurried from the room, ignoring Joel when he called after her. She couldn't look him in the eye or else she might actually puke.

Making a beeline for the bathroom, Ellie slammed the door behind her and leaned against it, the wood cold against her back. She took a deep breath, counting the cracks in the ceiling until her heart finally stopped bashing against her ribs, her throat burning. Pinprick tears stung her eyes as she fixed her pants, her fingers shaking so hard she could hardly grasp the button.

Cursing under her breath, Ellie braced her hands on the bathroom sink, her shoulders sagging. Her eyes were rimmed red; she scrubbed her hands over her face roughly, willing her stomach to settle.

She shouldn’t have been upset, really. The first time your hand had found its way into her pants, all those months ago, you had made it perfectly clear what this was. She could still hear your voice from that night, saccharine sweet and smelling like the whiskey you had nabbed from her cabinet: Come on, Els, Jackson’s so boring. We can just have a little fun, right? She remembered the weight of your body when you climbed onto her lap, your thighs warm on either side of her hips, your hands pressing her back against the couch. She could still feel the way your breath had ghosted over her neck, your voice dripping with honeyed desire: It's just a little fun.

Her own eyes looked so unfamiliar, a stranger peering at her from the bathroom mirror.

Cursing again, she turned on the faucet, bending to splash water on her face - it was December and the water was so cold it numbed her hands. It was a welcome relief against her burning skin.

Ellie felt so fucking dirty it hurt. No matter how she scrubbed at her skin, rubbing it raw, she couldn’t seem to rid herself of it. The cold water stung her cheeks.

A knock on the door made her jump, cold water splashing down the front of her shirt. She cursed, pulling the damp fabric away from her chest with a grimace before calling, “Give me a minute, okay?”

But you had never been very good at listening, had you? You didn’t even look surprised when you pushed the door open, ignoring her protest, and found Ellie leaning against the counter, water still dripping from her chin. If anything, you looked almost amused, quirking an eyebrow at her. It was the look you gave her every time you got her worked up, your eyes showing the laughter you bit back. She fucking hated that look.

Ellie glared over her shoulder at you, but there was no real malice behind it - even when she hated you, something in her still softened when you were around. A switchblade girl with a cotton candy heart.

You closed the door softly behind you, leaning back against it with a smug smile that she wanted to wipe off your face - she just wasn’t sure how she wanted to yet. Ellie could hear how your ego tinted your voice when you said, “Joel sent me to check on you. Probably thinks you're barfing your guts out or something.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, looking away from you and mumbling, “Yeah, I guess dinner didn’t sit well….”

You scoffed and the sound went straight to her stomach. She felt rather than saw you step behind her; she tensed when you placed your hands on her hips, leaning forward to put your chin on her shoulder. Her hands gripped the edges of the sink so hard she thought the porcelain might crack. She could feel the heat of your body all the way down her back, your hips pressing into her ass, and her traitorous heart fluttered embarrassingly.

Ellie met your eyes in the reflection, watching as your smile grew into something almost mocking. You placed a kiss on the back of her neck, pressing your words into her skin: “Damn, Els, I didn’t know Dawn of the Wolf got you so hot and bothered.” Your fingers pressed into her hips, pulled her back against you. She failed to smother the sigh it pulled from her. She hated how it made your smile widen, and she hated even more how much she wanted to fucking kiss it off your stupid face. She shivered when she felt your teeth graze over her neck, and almost missed it when you muttered, laughing, “God, you’re so fucking easy, you know that?”

Ellie shoved away from the counter, spinning on her heel and grabbing your wrist before you could flinch away. You had only blinked before she slammed you back against the wall, praying that Joel didn’t hear it. Her fingers wrapped so tightly around your wrist she could feel your pounding pulse, pressing it to the wall above your head. She slipped her thigh between your legs, pressing up into you, and she only had a moment to register that smug fucking grin before she slapped a hand over your mouth. She relished in the way your eyes flashed in something akin to fear. She had to find wins where she could, right?

Leaning forward so her nose brushed yours, Ellie growled into the back of her hand, “Don’t make a fucking sound.”

And she did get to wipe that cocky smile off your face. She kept her hand over your mouth, releasing your wrist to snake her arm between your legs. She muffled your moans, hissing when your nails dug into her biceps.

Joel was in the next room, she thought distantly. Joel was in the next room, watching the movie he had been so excited to show her. He was in the next room, concerned about her, waiting for her, and here she was pressing her best friend into the wall of his bathroom. She had your pants around your ankles, two - three - fingers pushing into you. She could feel the vibrations of your moans against her hand - she wanted to press her lips to yours and swallow them, knowing you would never let her.

It came too fast, Ellie pressing into you relentlessly if only to make you fucking shut up for once. Your body shuddered against her, and she wanted to hold you through it, but by the time it was over you were already pushing her away. When her hand fell from your mouth, you were smiling again. Maybe she was going to be sick after all.

@filtered-sunlight

#are you proud of me that this isn't 10k words #idk how many chapters i'll write #i'm kinda winging it rn #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #lesbian smut #ellie x you #ellie the last of us #ellie williams tlou #tlou smut #tlou angst #this is p angsty

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vmpiires · 5 months

Text

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎

„𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘”

𝐂𝐖;; mature content. afab!reader, stoner!choso, non-curse/sorcerer AU, no uses of y/n. not proofread so i apologize in advance for any mistakes if they’re made.

𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓;; choso’s mind has been spiraling for a couple days now. the fact that you wrote your phone number down on his hand had him going. he wanted to call you. he wanted to text you. but he just couldn’t. in order to be sanitary, he’d write the number down again on a sticky note and scrubbed the ink off his skin. he didn’t have time for a lover…but he felt like making time for you.

₊❏❜ ⋮ part one ⌒

. ݁ ࣪ ، ⌗ masterlist

: ̗̀➛ art creds by;; currently unknown. dividers are not mine, if you own these, you may claim them in comments.

: ̗̀➛ WORD COUNT;; 2.33K

dark mode recommended

do not copy this plot. i’m perfectly fine with inspirations but give creds. if this plot his stolen in any way, the post will be taken down and you will be blocked.

𝐃𝐀𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ✉️🖇️;; idk how long this story will stretch but if ya like it,, i’ll make more parts to it. not too many though. i wanna get to geto too (as promised). hope ya enjoyyyy. reblog to support meeee and if you want more :D (also lmk if you wanna be tagged for possible upcoming parts if i decide to continue)

another note: i finally made a masterlist. that shit took me 5 HOURS to make because i was fixing and adding so much stuff. i just wanted it to be pretty. ya should go look at it :P and should i make a AO3??? i see so many writers with them and i was wondering if i should do that too..

final note: guys,, remember this is my personal twist on the mid 90’s era so some things from current time will be put into the story (such as the ability to text without emailing one another or using a pager, familiar current time songs that are added into the 90’s era of this story, certain tv shows/movies that came after the 90’s)

₊❏❜ ⋮ continue to part three ⌒

“choso, we should make the house look like a haunted house!” itadori suggests. october was the season of spooks and scares (as yuji put it) and choso wasn’t into festivities that much but if he had to do it to make his little brother happy, he would do it.

the boys make their way to the nearby department store, letting yuji pick out what decorations should be put up in the house. for a little boy, choso didn’t even even pick up how significantly scary the items were because yuji wasn’t shitting himself out of fear.

“uh…yuji, i know you said you wanted the place to look like a haunted house…are you sure you won’t freak yourself out and start crying?” choso said, stifling his laughter.

“i’m not gonna cry.” yuji crossed his arms. “and i’m not scared of some dumb clowns. they’re just decorations, anyway.”

yuji was more mature than he looked…in the aspect of fear. he was a small boy but things didn’t scare him easily. you could say he’s a risk taker outside his moments of vulnerability. choso knew that he’d might jump back behind him, tightly holding the hem his tan sweater if he saw kechizu. the male finally smiles at the pink haired boy and nods.

“you’re right. they’re fake.” choso says calmly.

as they approach the checkout area, yuji sees the food area. serving simple things like pizza, hotdogs and drinks. the stuff you’d find at a concession stand of a sports game.

“can we get a pizza?” yuji asked. choso paused. he didn’t intend on spending 13 dollars on food from a department store. he had other plans anyway.

“you sure you want that? i was gonna get you a happy meal before we went home.” the male yawned, threading his fingers through his hair. the sudden mention of a happy meal excites yuji like a child on christmas morning.

“never mind, i don’t want pizza.” itadori quickly switches. choso chuckled, knowing how easy it was to get yuji to think about his choices.

“aw, cute kid,” choso heard a voice behind him. the male whipped his head around, his brown hair following along with him, only to see you standing there with a smile.

“is this your little brother?”

choso flushed a red color when he instantly remembered your face, almost making him feel bad for not calling you or texting you since you dropped off your number to him. he was feeling slightly embarrassed.

“uh..yeah, that’s—this is yuji.” he stumbles a bit, trying not to make his embarrassment known. itadori already knows the deal, so he waves at you with a big toothy grin, making you smile and wave back at him.

“um..what’re you doing here?” choso queried, trying to spark a conversation first for once. the male was obviously nervous and you could see his cheeks reddening the more he looked at you. if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he would explode right in front of your eyes.

“shopping, like everyone else,” you teased. “but really, i just gotta pick some stuff up for my mom and then i’ll be on my way.”

your eyes travel over to the shopping cart that yuji was clinging onto, looking at the halloweeny decorations and you smile.

“you don’t seem like the type to be into holidays really,” you start, “did your brother convince you?”

choso also looked at the shopping cart full of stuff and blushed even harder. he was already flustered enough. it couldn’t get any worse than this.

“oh—no..he didn’t,” he chuckled nervously, “i actually really like halloween. the scary shit—stuff…you know, the movies? they’re cool.”

you giggled at choso’s nervous attempts to speak to you about the festivities that he almost never participated in and the quick fix with his mistake of swearing in front of yuji like he wasn’t there.

“oh, so you like horror movies? yeah, you strike me as that kind of guy.” you said. you couldn’t help but notice his medium length hair, just like you had seen the other night when he was working, flowing in the wind that came through as the store doors slowly slid themselves open as customers exited the building.

the male wore an oversized tan sweater with a pair of joggers and some sneakers. you could tell this was a lazy outfit. something you’d call a ‘no one will see me’ outfit.

his eyes were tired and he had a stoic expression, aside from his profuse blushing that began to die down when he finally got the chance to relax, having his hands shoved down into his pant pockets. his irises were so pretty. a pretty shade of purple. you never seen anyone’s eyes look like his before.

the silence prolonged for a moment. the two of you suddenly ran out of things to say. this was perfectly fine for choso. he would’ve lost his mind if he had to keep talking. it wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy talking to you. he was just too scared.

but it wasn’t long before that silence was disturbed.

“my big brother really likes you. he thinks you’re pre—” itadori starts before choso swiftly covers his mouth with his significantly larger hand, making you giggle once more.

“i’m sorry about that…yuji just likes to say random stuff when the silence is too loud for him.” choso said trying to cover up his embarrassment.

“it’s okay,” you smiled at him. your words seemed to ease his nerves a bit but it wasn’t enough to completely calm him down. you glance down at your phone when you feel it vibrate against your thigh.

it’s your mom texting you, asking if you’re on your way back.

“oh, sh—shoot,” you say, quickly fixing your mistake before you actually said it. “i gotta go. my mom just texted.”

choso is quickly snapped out of his embarrassment trance and his head swings over to look at you, his hair following along.

“you’re going?” he asked. through his dead and serious expression, you could see a hint of sadness. a very small change in his usual expression. you nod.

“yeah. but listen, you should call me. you don’t have my number just to stare at it.” you remarked before hurrying off, waving at him as you did.

once you were out of his sight, his eyes quickly struck down to yuji. he looked like he wanted to scold the poor boy for publicly embarrassing him in front of you but he decided against it and his expression softened.

“let’s just get home…” the male sighed.

choso was happy it’s his day off. he got to stay home with his little brother to help decorate their home with terrifying decorations for halloween. choso couldn’t help but smile at yuji’s futile attempts to scare him with the masks from the store.

“come on, you aren’t even a little scared?” yuji removed the mask from his face and shook his head to fix his hair, which was flattened and sticking to his forehead.

“not even in the slightest.” choso chuckled before ruffling itadori’s hair lightly. “what about your friends? you try to scare them yet?”

“megumi is almost never impressed. he’s kinda lame….and out of the question.” yuji hummed. “but i can get nobara. she’s always screaming.”

“well, you can do that tomorrow,” choso yawned, “you gotta get ready for bed soon. you got school in the morning and i don’t want you to be tired and falling asleep in class.”

yuji frowned before he’d hug choso. it took a moment for choso to process the moment, given that he wasn’t too used to being hugged. choso finally hugged the boy back before smiling softly.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

yuji nodded and smiled back at his older brother before making his way to his room.

when yuji had finally gone to sleep, the house was quiet, leaving choso staring at the ceiling with his hair in disarray and an unlit cigarette between his lips all while he laid on the bed, doing maladaptive night dreaming.

‘workin out’ by JID played softly from the small radio that sat on the windowsill. his eyes slowly traveled over to the shoe box that stood out from all the other boxes in his closet. there was a bright yellow sticky note at the top with what seemed to have your phone number on it along with your name.

the male sat up on the bed and walked over to the box, snatching the sticky note from the box then walking over to his laptop that sat on the umber colored desk.

choso opened the laptop and navigated to the facetime app and decided to punch in your number. he could feel his stomach turning as the low adverb jingling sound repeated itself.

while he waited for you to answer, he’d take one of the rubber bands off of his wrist and tie his hair back, leaving his bangs to hang down in his face. he even took the time to fix the violet eyeshadow that he always had around his eyes, staining his fingers each time he touched around his eyelids. and finally, he’d press down on the bandage over his nose to make sure it was still sticking.

you suddenly pick up, finally answering choso’s call. your room was a bit dark like his, except you had your tv going on in the background. it was loud enough for choso to be able to hear.

unlike choso, you were sitting on your bed with your laptop. you had your hair tied up in twin messy buns with a little bit of your hair hanging down in your face. you wore a black spaghetti strap tank top, revealing the tattoo on your shoulder, and a pair of grey joggers with mismatch socks.

“i honestly did not hear this thing going off,” you giggled as you pushed the hair out of your face. you had been downstairs grabbing yourself a drink while choso was calling. “i’m sorry i didn’t answer right away, though.”

“oh..no, it’s fine. you aren’t busy are you?”

“no, not really. i was thinking about finishing this show i was watching. have you heard of american horror story?”

“yeah, i heard of it. i just never got around to watching it. i’d rather watch movies than an ongoing series.” choso explained simply before he’d light his cigarette. you nod, completely understanding his side.

“shit, well, what movies do you recommend? horror movies, since we’re in spooky season.” you flash a cheeky smile at him. choso’s heart skips a beat when you finally ask him what he’s interested in. he pauses and begins thinking, taking drags from his cigarette.

“there’s one movie, i can’t tell you all of em off the top of my head,” he begins, “watch midsommar. it’s kinda disturbing but you might like it.”

“is it gory horror or..?” you ask before taking a sip of your drink as you began to type in the movie name into the search bar in another tab, scrolling through websites to catch any good details about said movie.

“you’ll have to see for yourself,” choso places two of his digits around the cigarette, gently adjusting it between his lips before it could slip out. you realize the longer you talked to him, the more comfortable he seemed to be but you could still see that he was nervous.

“maybe we can see about it together,” you suggest to the male. “whenever you’re free, of course.” you add quickly. all of a sudden, choso is blushing just as he did at the store earlier that day. you thought it was kinda adorable how he could look so disinterested to suddenly flustered and scared so quickly.

“i—well..” choso stammered, “yeah, sure…uh, we can watch tomorrow night when i put my little brother to bed. i don’t want him interrupting anything.”

you giggled, “aw, he’s so cute, though. but i get it. little kids can get in the way of a lot of stuff.”

the two of you conversed for what felt like hours. your voice was soothing to choso. each time you began to speak, he just imagined you calling his name…just once.

your call with choso ended around three in the morning, and your cheeks were pink, smiling to yourself as you remembered the random conversations that you two had not too long ago.

you hadn’t felt like this about a guy in a long time. while men were usually throwing themselves at you, choso was clearly the odd one out. he was a bit shy but assertive and smart.

choso’s voice was deep as it came from the depths of the ocean but his words flowed smoothly like butter when he wasn’t tripping and fumbling with his words trying to hide his embarrassment.

his style, his personality, the way he looked. in your eyes he was perfect but there were a million things stopping you from telling him you loved him.

what if he has a girlfriend already? what if he isn’t ready for a relationship? what if he doesn’t want one? he probably just wants to be friends.

aside from all those thoughts clogging your brain, you were aware that you’d be moving to fast by throwing that L word around loosely when you just met him a couple days ago.

“damn it.” choso sighed to himself.

‘you’re falling for her…but you don’t have time for her. what’re you doing?’ choso was beating himself up about the whole entire situation. another cigarette is taken out of the pack and lightened as he tried to calm his anxiety and spiraling thoughts.

he was going crazy. he didn’t know what he would do. he wanted you out of his head. he was starting to feel stupid for letting you swoon him as easily as you did at the bar.

part of him wished he never met you…

but he needed more of you.

𝐄𝐍𝐃.

⋆｡࿇ ·࣭࣪̇˖ 𖦹°༅༚

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kilistina · 1 year

Note

hiii just wanted to say i love ur posts so much. ur so good at writing pls never stop😫 i just finished reading punk 57 and the whole “tell me something true” line has me in a CHOKEHOLD. pls pls pls write about assholery being cold and distant with y/n out of nowhere even though they’re friends. can the reader be fem and have bunny as a nickname too? it’s been on my miiind and i just know you’ll write it to perfection <33

i fucking ADORE this suggestion sm. whoever you are, message me pls bc i wanna rack your brain for more lmao

lmk if you wanna be tagged in part 2 when—if—it comes out <3 i hope y’all enjoy this part though bc it’s truly one of my favourites so far.

i recommend listening to these two songs while reading: wet dream - wetleg, desire - meg myers

•••

dirty dancing. pt1

word count: 4.4k-ish

disc. nsfw content ahead. mdni. brief coke mention—in passing, includes fem! reader n harry styles, bold ass language, kinda slow burn but not really, some sexy dancing ig n aaaangst. enjoy my whores <3

•••

Things have been weird with Harry for a while now. You’re not exactly sure how or why the rift even started, but it did. And it’s only been getting worse.

You’ve been friends for what—two years now? Never too close, but close enough to be able to communicate about any issues you’ve had with each other. You and Harry don’t really argue, he’s not the confrontational type. Not with you, anyway. And not when he’s sober.

You aren’t the biggest fan of confrontation either. When things get too heated or overwhelming, you cry. It embarrasses you—being unable to handle your emotions. You know that you’re only human, and you’d never judge someone else for crying in the middle of an argument, but because it’s you, because you know yourself so well, you judge yourself over it. Weird pattern, but hey, it’s real.

Right now, you’re out at a bar with your friends—the same group you’ve been hanging around since high school. Mitch and Sarah have been highschool sweethearts for as long as you can remember, they’re like the parents of the group. The cool parents. The parents everyone secretly wishes they could have. Niall and Lewis are attached at the hip, too—platonically. Been best friends since the day they met.

You’re the closest with Niall since you’ve been living with him through college, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You have other girlfriends but they’re not as close to you as Niall and Sarah are. Sarah’s like a diamond you’ve always loved. They all are. They’ve always been by your side when you needed them—Harry included. You got lucky, sure. Not everybody has the luxury of picking the good ones before college and life gets in the way.

The bar is slowly coming to life. People who came for a meal are leaving, and people in the mood for a night of drinking and dancing are all piling in. You’re excited. It’s been way too long since you’ve let loose. You’ve been too stumped with work and college lately, you’ve barely had any time to breathe without someone breathing right there with you. And of course, you enjoy the company of others. But when you have to be sober for it all? Eh.

Harry’s similar to you in that sense. He loves socialising. Absolutely adores it. He’s an extrovert. But after weeks of constant company, he gets burnt out. The only thing that helps toughen the blow is alcohol. Or coke, but he’s stopped that for a while now.

You prop your elbows up on the edge of the bar and lean against it, looking around for the bartender. He has his back to you, mixing someone else’s drink. You clear your throat and he turns his head to the side, catching sight of you and nodding his head to let you know he’ll be a moment. You nod back and wait, turning to face your friends.

“Anyone wanna shot with me?” You arch a brow at your five friends, and they all smirk and nod their heads. Harry included. “We all good for a vodka?”

Everyone nods a second time in response, and you turn back to face the bartender.

“What can I do for you, gorgeous?” He shoots you a warm smile.

“Five shots of vodka, please.” You smile back at him and he nods.

“Straight?”

“No, gay,” You murmur a witty reply and he laughs, beginning to fill five shot glasses for you. You swear you can hear Harry coughing back a laugh from behind you too, but you don’t pay him any attention.

You double tap your phone’s off switch, activating the apple pay, and you hold it up to pay for your drinks.

“No need, beautiful,” The bartender holds his hand up, “This round’s on me.”

You shrug, exhaling dramatically, “I won’t try and convince you to let me pay.”

“I wouldn’t let you try.” The attractive bartender plays along, smirking at you.

You mouth a quick thank you to him and he gives you one final wink before turning his attention to the small group of girls next to you, catering to them now. You grab the shot glasses off the counter and hand them out to everyone, and you all hold them up and clink them together before downing them in seconds.

“Fuck,” Sarah sticks her tongue out as if that’s going to help the taste in her mouth, “Never gets easier does it?”

“Doesn’t need to,” Niall grins proudly, setting his shot glass down on the counter, “You’re just weak.”

“Yeah we fuckin’ get it, you’re an Irish heavyweight. We should all bow down at your feet, you’re a king and we’re peasants who can’t handle a measly shot.” Lewis rolls his eyes and pretends to worship him.

Niall frowns in confusion, “Who you calling a heavyweight?”

Harry snorts at the two men bickering. They’re like two peas in a pod, and typically, people who are so close tend to argue every now and then.

The group has that dynamic. Sarah and Mitch, Niall and Lewis, you and Harry? You’re not sure if you and Harry count. You’re not as close as the others. You wouldn’t call him a best friend. A friend, yes. A good friend? That’s pushing it, but still, yes. A best friend? No.

It’s not that you wouldn’t like to be closer. You’ve just never really been given the chance. Harry’s always kept a safe distance from you. You’ve hardly ever spent time alone, always speaking and engaging with each other the most when others are around to witness it. Sure, a part of you wishes that Harry would pay you more attention, but the other part of you doesn’t think he deserves it. If he wanted to, he would, right?

“And aren’t you Irish too?” Niall questions Lewis, continuing on with their unserious bickering.

“Yeah like a third,” Lewis shrugs, “From my dad’s side, but you already knew th—stop deflecting. Y/N, tell him to stop deflecting from how much of a cock he is.” He points towards you and tries to get you involved.

You giggle and shrug your shoulders, “You are a bit of a cock sometimes, Ni.”

“Both of you can suck me, honestly. I’m fuckin’ great.” Niall flicks his hair dramatically and you and Lewis snicker.

“I’m with Niall,” Harry lightly nudges Niall’s chest with his elbow, joining in on the joke, “Both of you can suck him.”

“You fucking weirdos,” Mitch shakes his head at the lot of you, not surprised in the slightest by your antics, “Miss Jones and I are gonna go dance, you lot can either keep bickering or come join us. Choice is yours.”

With that, they both head for the dance floor together, holding their hands in the air and laughing.

“I’m joining those twats,” Lewis gestures to them, looking at the rest of you, “You three game?”

Niall nods, “Course. Harry, Y/N?”

“I’ll be there in a bit,” You nod towards the bar, “I feel like some more drinks.”

Everyone’s attention shifts to Harry. He clears his throat as he thinks for a moment, “Yeah, me too. Be there in a bit.”

Lewis and Niall both nod at Harry and beeline for the dance floor, already beginning to bicker again on the way. You giggle at the sight of them and shake your head, turning to face the bar again. Harry joins you, standing by your side. Neither of you look at each other, you keep your eyes in front of you at the neat array of liquor set along the counter.

“Nice night, don’t you think?” You break the awkward silence threatening to form between the two of you.

You catch sight of Harry nodding his head, “Always a nice night with this lot.”

Dry as fuck. You might not be close with Harry, but you aren’t stupid. You know the way he speaks to people, you’ve seen it. Harry could have an hour long conversation with a tree. But with you, it seems like a fucking chore.

You want to scoff. You want to scoff at how fucking childish Harry’s acting with you. Why can’t he look at you or have a normal conversation with you?

You sigh, not wanting to overreact over such a minor reply and ruin the night for yourself. Although Harry seems to be doing a decent job of that himself.

“Can’t argue with that.” You murmur.

“Mhm.” Harry murmurs and you wait a beat for him to say something else, anything else.

He doesn’t.

That’s it.

“I feel like I don’t know you.” Your words spill out before you can stop them.

Harry’s taken by surprise. He turns to face you. Now he’s looking, at least. “Sorry?”

“I feel like I don’t know you.” You sigh, repeating yourself.

“What is there to know?” He furrows his eyebrows at you, gesturing to the bartender that he wants a glass of something.

“You tell me, Harry Styles.”

He sighs, running a hand through his curly hair, “Y/N, what are you trying to get at here?”

You shrug, “I dunno, I feel like I click with everyone else. I’ve got a connection with everyone, H. Everyone but you.” Your words come out harsher than you intended. You’d feel a little guilty if they weren’t true. But they are.

“That was unnecessary.” Harry murmurs so quietly that you almost don’t hear him.

“You asked me a question and I answered it.” You stand your ground, sick of Harry’s half-assed efforts to conversing with you. You’re a catch, your friendship is amazing, and you’re great to talk to. What the hell is Harry’s problem?

He laughs, scoffing at you in disbelief, “Fuck, you’re such a bitch sometimes.”

You almost choke on your own saliva, “Excuse me?”

“You fuckin’ heard me, Y/N. I called you a bitch. Because that’s what you are half the time when shit doesn’t go your way.” Harry doesn’t know where this is all coming from, but it’s coming.

He doesn’t mean it, obviously. He’d never mean that. He doesn’t think you’re a bitch. Again, never. But he’s angry. He’s angry and you’re angry and you’re both speaking without thinking it through properly and you’re both making an absolute mess of the situation and each other—

“What the fuck?” You stare at Harry in shock, your eyes wide with disgust.

He’s confused by your offended reaction, “What, are you surprised or something? Come on, Bunny. You know better than that.”

“You don’t have to be such an ass,” You scold him, “We used to get along. We used to be closer. We’ve never been as close as the others but at least we used to speak. At least I was able to walk into a room knowing you were there and look forward to it.”

His face relaxes at your words. He knows you mean well. You’ve both been hotheaded for a moment but now you seem to be calming down. You’re bringing your point across well and he can’t fault you for it.

“But what now? What fuckin’ now, H? You never speak to me when we’re alone, and then when you finally do, it’s this. It’s an attack on my character. Does this shit get you off or something?”

Never mind.

Harry scoffs at your sudden change in tone, feeling agitated again, “Fuck you.”

You slam your hand on the counter, “Fuck you, Harry!”

He glares at you as you continue scolding him, “What the hell are we even doing here? Go spend time with your actual friends.”

“Hey, wait a second. What?” He leans his head to the side in confusion, not knowing what you mean, “We’ve known each other for years, Bunny.”

“I don’t know a single thing about you.” You point out, making him roll his eyes. “Don’t roll your—“

“Where’s my favourite place to eat?” Harry cuts you off with a question. A question that you know the answer to.

 “That’s not—”

“Where do I go when I’m upset?” Again, another question you can answer.

“Harry—”

“How did I get the scar on my chin?” That’s a special question. You gave it to him the day you met.

You sigh, knowing where he’s going with this. He’s not understanding what you’re trying to tell him and it infuriates you.

You tap the tips of your fingers on the countertop, feeling anxious, “That’s not what I—”

“You do know me, Y/N. we don’t need to speak every two seconds or braid each other’s hair to know each other well.”

Your eyes begin to prick with tears. That isn’t what you meant and he knows that.

“That’s not what I meant.” You lower your voice as it threatens to crack.

“Then what did you mean, Bunny?” He crosses his arms and stares at you, waiting on an explanation.

You groan, throwing your head in your hands.

The truth is, you can explain. You can explain everything you’re feeling well. But is that going to get you anywhere right now? Maybe. Maybe not. You have a better idea.

“Do you consider me a friend?”

Harry’s face drops. You can tell that he’s upset and borderline offended that you’re even asking that question.

Of course you’re friends. You’ve been friends for years. He adores you. Why can’t you see that he adores you?

“Bunny..” He takes a step towards you, and you take one back.

“Do you?” You insist on getting a solid answer.

“Of course I consider you a fr—”

“Don’t lie.” You cross your arms over your chest.

“I’m not—”

“Tell me something real, Harry. Please. God, please just tell me something that isn’t base level for once,” You beg, “Tell me something true.”

He raises his eyebrows slightly. He’s taken back. He wasn’t expecting that from you at all.

He stays silent.

“You can’t, can you?” You scoff at him, not knowing why you expected anything to come from this conversation. You should’ve known better than to be hopeful about how things were going to go with Harry..because it’s Harry, “I don’t know why I thought you’d—“

“I still smoke cigarettes.” Harry cuts you off, blurting out an admission. He tenses his jaw in realisation—he’s just as shocked as you are.

Oh.

Your eyes widen at his confesion. Harry’s been gloating to everyone about how he so easily quit smoking three months ago. You’re all so proud of him, considering how difficult it is to quit something cold turkey the way he did. The rest of you haven’t been able to shake the bad habit. Apparently, neither has he.

“You do?” You question.

He nods, “Less. But I do.”

“Why?”

He almost smiles at your question, “Why do I smoke?”

“Why did you lie about it?”

He sighs, looking down as he answers you, “Everyone’s got something, right? Sarah and Mitch have their relationship, Niall has his singing, Lewis has his stand-up every Friday, you have your double degree. I just wanted something that everyone could be proud of. Felt like something small like that would’ve been manageable to keep hidden from everyone.”

You frown, “Harry..”

“No,” He shakes his head, refusing to let you feel sorry for him, “No. Seriously, no. We’re not about to do pity. That’s not what we do with each other.”

“Okay,” You clear your throat and agree to let it go, grabbing a now filled shot glass and handing it over to him, “Drink?”

He smirks at you, silently thanking you as he reaches forward and takes the shot glass from you.

“Sorry for calling you a bitch.” He murmurs, offering you a small, sincere smile.

You give him one back, “Sorry for being one.”

His small smile turns into a grin.

“To the truth.” You hold your glass up to cheers his with.

“To the fuckin’ truth.”

You both down your shots and tap them down on the counter to gesture for the bartender to refill them. He complies and neither of you waste a second to down the next ones. Over and over, shot after shot, you continue to drink until you’re buzzed.

You’re both good at handling your liquor, and you know how much you can take. By the time you’re done with your shots, you’re over the moon. Buzzed and aware. Aware of what you feel, aware of where you are, aware of who you’re with. Aware.

Harry leans down, his face dangerously close to yours. He’s never been this close, you don’t think. You’ve never seen his face so clearly, you’ve never seen his chest tattoos so well, his necklace dangling, his—

“Should we go dance with the others now, you think?” He speaks into your ear and you feel your stomach beginning to erupt with nerves.

“Yeah,” You inhale sharply, nodding, “Sure.”

Harry grabs your hand and leads you through the crowd, keeping a hold of you even when you reach where your friends are. The contact is strange but you welcome it, liking the new barrier that’s being broken between the two of you.

Over the years, you’ve noticed how touchy he can get when he’s under the influence, so you have an idea of what you’re getting into. You like being on the receiving end for once. You could get used to this side of Harry. You like being his friend. His real friend.

Once you get to where the others are, you quickly gauge what they’re all doing. Mitch and Sarah are in their own little world as usual, dancing together as if it’s their wedding night. Niall’s dancing with a random girl he’s probably going home with later tonight and Lewis is making a fool of himself in the middle of them. Ah, friendship. You love to see it.

“Nice song, yeah?” Harry leans over to your ear, speaking over the music. The song playing is one of your all time favourites—Wet Dream by WetLeg.

Anyone who knows you, knows the way you feel about this song. It’s become tradition to play it everytime you carpool. A fine tradition, you think.

“Oh, the best.” You start bopping your head to the beat of the song, singing along with the lyrics you know and love.

“I was in your wet dream driving in my caaar, saw you at the side of the road, there’s no one else around you’re touching yourself, touching yourself—“ You start yelling out the words along with everyone else on the dance floor, shaking your head side to side and dramatising every word. Harry watches you and smirks, letting you have your moment.

“You said—“

You’re about to keep singing the next part when he beats you to it, “Baby do you want to come home with me? I got Buffalo ‘66 on dvd!”

You let out a surprised laugh at the fact that Harry even knows the words to the song, loving that you’re seeing this side to him. You’d never expect to have something as simple as loving a song like this in common, but here you are.

Beam me up—beam me up!

Count me in—count me in!

Three, two, one—three, two, one!

Let's begin!

The song continues and you realise that you’ve both been staring at each other for a good ten seconds in silence, just taking in the sight of each other. Harry really is beautiful. The way his hair hangs perfectly below his shoulders. The way his dimples show at the smallest hint of a smile. The way his eyes burn into yours. You never want to see anything else. Just him. Just Harry.

“I was in your wet dream, driving in my caaaar!” Harry’s voice breaks you out of your daydream, and you laugh as he grabs your hands, dancing with you to the beat of the song.

“What makes you think you're good enough to think about me when you're touching yourself?” You continue the song and he pretends to be shocked, acting out the song with you.

“You climb onto the bonnet and you’re licking the windscreen! I’ve never seen anything so obscene!” You both sing the next part together, leaning in close to each other’s faces and practically screaming with the biggest smiles on your faces, “It’s enough! To make a girl blush! It’s enough! It’s enough to make a girl blush!”

The rest of the song plays and you both continue to scream out every word, making the most of the moment you’re having and hoping it never ends. Neither of you are sure what’s going on but neither of you are complaining. You’re both witnessing a new side to each other and you’re enjoying it. Perhaps you were made to be best friends like the others. Maybe it was meant to happen like this.

The song eventually comes to an end and you both let out a deep sigh, catching your breath for a moment as another random song plays.

Harry looks down at you with parted lips, “Nice singing, Bunny.”

“Could say the same to you, H.” You smile and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. The move is natural and you don’t put too much thought into it. Neither does Harry.

His hands find their way to your waist and you both sway in time with the music, singing the lyrics into each other’s faces and having the time of your lives.

“I haven’t had sex in 5 months!” His voice is just loud enough for you to hear over the music.

Your eyebrows furrow, “What?”

He leans closer to your face, “I said—I said I haven’t had—”

“No I—I heard you H,” You chuckle, “I’m just a little—”

“Surprised? Yeah me too.” He grins at you, suddenly seeming to be completely comfortable with you in a way you never expected, “I stole that chocolate bar from you last week by the way, it wasn’t Niall.”

You laugh for a moment at his strange confessions until you process what he just told you, “Wait that was you?”

 “Loud ‘n proud, bunny.” He grins proudly.

“You—you fucker!” You gasp, playfully hitting his chest with one of your hands, keeping the other where it was around his neck.

 He chuckles, playing along, “Did you forget what I just—”

“Shut up!”

You both laugh, continuing to move your bodies together.

“What about you? Tell me something true.”

You purse your lips together, trying to come up with something to tell Harry. There’s a million things you could tell him, but you want to catch him off guard. You want to see an honest, raw reaction from him.

“I think you’re really pretty.” You finally say, shrugging your shoulders.

Harry raises his eyebrows at you, unsure if you’re being serious. “Pretty?”

You nod.

He tilts his head for a moment, “Weird choice of words.”

“I don’t think so,” You smile at him, “You’re a pretty boy.”

He smiles back, “You’re a pretty bunny.”

“We’re pretty.”

“We are.”

You both smile at each other and share a brief moment. A moment of what—you’re not sure. Two friends being supportive of each other? Two friends suddenly becoming closer and making the most of it? Two friends two friends two friends—

The next song begins playing and your heart begins to pace more. Desire, Meg Myers.

The two of you exchange a look, knowing that you won’t move together to this song the same way you have been for the others.

You know that you won’t be singing along with this one. You’d rather feel it. Feel Harry.

You move your hands away from around Harry’s neck, and he keeps his on your waist, holding you close. You move your hands down and place them over his, feeling electric all of a sudden.

Baby, I wanna fuck you

I wanna feel you in my bones

The song is loud and the coloured lights are flashing red. The atmosphere has changed—not only in the bar and on the dance floor, but between you and Harry. The way he’s looking at you is different. The way you’re looking at him is different. The way he’s touching you is different. The way you’re touching him is different.

I’m gonna tear into your soul

You begin to sway your hips to the beat of the song, holding your eyes over Harry’s. Neither of you dare to look away. You wouldn’t dream of it.

How do you want me?

You begin to turn your body in time with the music, turning your back to Harry. He leans his head down, resting his head on your shoulder and keeping his hands by your waist as you continue to move against each other. You feel a surge of confidence—you’re not sure if it’s the song, if it’s the alcohol, if it’s Harry’s random confessions, if it’s the feelings you’ve been suppressing from him for years—but it’s here. It’s here and you’re about to make the most of it.

Yeah I gotta hurt you, I gotta hear it from your mouth

Boy, I wanna taste you, I wanna skin you with my tongue

I’m gonna kill you

You lean your ass back, moving it against Harry’s crotch. He sucks in a breath, and the only way you know it is because you feel his teeth graze the skin of your bare shoulder. Your eyes close at the feeling and you grow bolder, moving the same way a second time.

He tightens his grip on your waist. You can feel the bulge of his cock against your ass and you can only imagine how much it’s straining against the band of his jenas. You almost pity him. Almost.

I wanna feel you

I want it all

I wanna feel you

I want it all

You continue moving against Harry, enjoying his little reactions to your touch. To the way you feel. He begins trailing kisses down your neck, applying pressure and sucking on your skin. You still. You can’t focus on anything but the way his lips feel against you.

What’s going on between you both? What the fuck is happening? Why the fuck has it taken so long? Why couldn’t it happen sooner?

So many questions.

“Bunny,” Harry groans against your shoulder, placing one last kiss to your neck before moving his mouth to your ear, “Tell me something true.”

You know exactly what you want to say. Again, there’s so much you want to tell him. You want to tell him how good he feels against you, how much you love the way he moves his body against yours. You want to tell him that you feel the connection now. You want to tell him that you know he can feel it too. There’s so much to say, but you settle for the most simple thing. The most important one.

“I want you.”

•••

aaahhhh!!! i’m sososo proud of this one. idk why but this shot has a special place in my heart. the smut will be included in the second part. and believe me, it’s gonna be SMUT. i’m such a whore for angst n this friendship trope is just chef’s kiss.

anyway enough chat. i hope y'all enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it <3 if you liked what you read then please reblog n comment. feel free to suggest ideas for new posts too.

have a good day or night wherever you are n stay safe, always <3

- k

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duckchu · 4 months

Note

Hi!

Could you please write for the following for Kayn;

Reader has media studies, and got an internship under Yone's guidance (as much as I love him, strictly platonic😭)

Kayn falls for reader along the way she is there to work with Yone, maybe even gets a little jealous until he gets himself to finally make a move and stop being dramatic about it 💀

Can have tags, im down for anything 👀🗿

Thank you ❤️

Ooooh I love this idea thank youuu

But I've got no idea how media studies work (I have expanded history and English, so pretty different directions sorry) so if I make stupid mistakes lmk so I can correct them

Also Kayn is kinda mean in the beginning but it's Kayn

"Ok no worries it's just an internship with one of the biggest producers you've heard of, no biggie" You thought to yourself as you walked into the studio. Yone, the supervisor of your internship, was already waiting for you. At the beginning, your relationship was very stiff. Neither of you knew how to approach it, since it was the first internship both of you have done. While you liked working under him since you were always given clear instructions and his critique was rooted in wanting to help you better your work and not mean spirited at all. After a week, you both warmed up to eachother, sharing some small talk and finally you met his bandmates. Don't get me wrong, he didn't mean to put off your meeting, but they were all busy with their own schedules while he was mentoring you. But then, one day you walked into the studio and saw the other 5 members of HEARTSTEEL, goofing around. Yone must have noticed how surprised you were, so he introduced you to all the guys. Aphelios only gave you a nod, busy with his own work and Kayn seemed not too pleased at meeting you, but Ezreal, Sett and K'Sante seemed more excited about meeting you. After getting to know most of the guys, you got to work, working on a song for HEARTSTEEL'S new album, which seemed to annoy Kayn

- Are we really letting her produce our songs?-

After that Yone seemed to precisely time your work so you wouldn't be in the studio with Kayn as often as the rest, though it surprisingly seemed to annoy the pink headed menace, who went behind Yone's back in order to find you during your break and talk you up. While being as annoying as he always is. While you entertained him for some time, you quickly got back to work and that was that. Or so you thought. You intrigued him. So he spend his sweet time bugging Yone about you, sometimes even suggesting the older man was in a relationship with you to test how he'll react.

Finally, after a long time, when your internship was coming to an end he decided that he's done feeling jealous of how much time you spent with Yone. Or how many times you went to grab dinner with Ezreal. Even how you and Alune seemed to click instantly when she came to see how the progress on the album was going. When you went to take your break, he grabbed you and pulled you in an old supply closet. From the unamused look on your face he figured there were better ways to do this, but whatever.

- So...Wanna go out? - god, why is he so...himself? But might as well, a little date wouldn't hurt

- Sure. - You couldn't believe you agreed, but what's the worst that could happen?

An annoying boyfriend could happen.

#league of legends #league of legends x reader #lol x reader #lol #heartsteel #heartsteel x reader #heartsteel kayn #kayn x reader #kayn league of legends #shieda kayn #lol kayn #kayn #heartsteel kayn x reader #shieda kayn x reader

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thedvilsinthedetails · 3 months

Text

rosekiller band au microfic pt4

heyyy guys pt4 is hereeeee

ok so this one is a bit shorter bc I’m a bit tired today but I rlly wanted to write it anyway so I did lol but it’s not been edited like at all so there may be typos pls point them out if u spot them so I can fix them tyyyy

yayyyyy I love this one

Ok ppl who wanted to be tagged/wanted the next part: @good-oldfashioned-lover-girl @picklerab23 @nikholascrow @always-reading @weirdtinkerbellversion @lady-stardust-incarnate @depressedtheatrekiddo @y0url0verb0y @idk-what-to-put-here-123 @lulublack90 (as always pls lmk if u want to be added to the taglist/don’t want to be tagged x)

link to part one

link to prev part

(EDIT: link to next part)

***

Barty’s stomach flipped as Evan looked at him, stunned and stunning. Then the moment was broken and Evan turned his head to look at Dorcas who seemed to be fighting back a laugh. This was stupid fuck this was stupid.

“Did you know about this?”

Evan asked Dorcas who shook her head.

“First time I’ve heard about it.”

Stupid, STUPID. You’re so stupid Barty why would you go and say that. You should have said no when Marls suggested it, should have said no straight away.

“It’s um- to make a statement. Kiss on the stage to piss of Riddle but it’s fine you don’t have to-“

“It’s a good idea.”

Evan said quickly.

“Oh, yeah it was Marls’. Wouldn’t want to um…steal the credit.”

Wouldn’t want you to think that the idea of kissing you plays on repeat in my mind every second I’m awake.

“Yeah. I um- I want to. I think it would be good-“

Brilliant actually it would be fucking brilliant Rosier.

Barty amended Evan’s statement.

“To make a big statement.”

“Yeah.”

Yeah. Yeah what other reason would there be Barty? What were you hoping for? Pathetic isn’t it. The way you would gladly lick the crumbs left on his plate if he asked you to. He doesn’t want to kiss you, he wants to piss of homophobes. Don’t forget that.

It was in fact too late for Barty to not forget that because all that was ringing in his ears was ‘I want to. I want to.’ Because honestly Barty was going to kiss Evan. Maybe for the only time ever in his life. But he was going to. He’d never even thought it a possibility before.

•••

I figured out that this modern world is turning the wrong way round

There’s something about the way our bedsheets turn religion upside down

So we just have sex to solve all our problems

Let’s do it again

It had been Pandora’s idea for the kiss to happen during ‘cotton candy’ and everyone had immediately agreed. It was a stroke of genius really. Barty had originally thought it should take place in a love song, but that wasn’t what this kiss was about. This kiss was about the freedom, the liberation everyone deserved to be who they were, to test their limits and experiment and not be judged for being queer or straight or promiscuous or prudish. Cotton candy was just that. A call for sexual liberation, a call to stop demonising young people for living their lives.

And I wanna get stuck between your teeth like cotton candy

So you remember me darlin’

Barty turned his head to look at Evan. Their microphones were too far apart on separate sides of the stage, everyone hated it. He felt uncomfortable so far from Evan, they just performed better when they were up close together. The crowd had actually been pretty annoyed when they saw it at first. Still when he looked he saw Evan staring back at him. He cocked his head sideways, a silent, last minute ‘are you ready?’ Evan nodded.

Im losing myself in you

In you

I know

Evan stopped playing the guitar and let it just hang around his neck as he took the microphone out of the stand. Barty watched him before taking his own mic out the stand too.

I’m losing myself in you

In you

I know

They turned to face each other and Barty began to walk.

Leave me in the morning, although

I don’t wanna be on my own

They met somewhere in the middle of the stage and suddenly the scream of the crowd dulled and the music stopped and for a moment there was nothing except Evan. Evan Evan Evan. His eyes staring straight into Barty’s. The hushed sound of their soft harmonies. The warmth of his breath dusting Barty’s face as they pressed their foreheads together.

I’m losing myself in you

In you

I know.

And they kissed. The crowd screamed. And suddenly the world was filled with colour even though Barty had his eyes screwed shut. Kissing Evan was like…fuck Barty was no wordsmith, Regulus and Pandora wrote their songs. But kissing Evan was everything. He tasted sweet and minty like the gum he’d chewed right before the show. His hand was warm and calloused and currently threaded through the hair at the base of Barty’s neck, tilting his head up just so.

The instrumental was over, they’d missed their cue. Barty didn’t care. They kept on kissing till the song faded to a close and even then kept going till the clap of the crowd died down. They softly broke away but Barty couldn’t hide the grin that broke onto his face. Evan just grinned right back.

***

AHHH YAY OK I LOVE THIS SONG CAN I JUST START BY SAYING THAT

Watch the music video for this song (cotton candy by YUNGBLUD)

LOOK AT THE SKIRT HE WEARS AND TELL ME BARTY WOULDNT WEAR THAT

Also what do we thinkkkkk they finally kissed!!!!!!

Ayyyyyy

ok stay tuned for the FIFTH and FINAL part (probs gonna be released tmrw hehe)

Also I’m probably gonna put this on ao3 btw, not gonna change it bc I don’t have the patience to properly lengthen it (at least rn, ig u never rlly know) but it’s just like if ppl want to bookmark it or reread or whatever it’ll probs be easier

ANYWAY LMK WHAT U THOUGHT

😘BYEEEEE

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sillygraham · 7 months

Text

Finally home ♡

pairing ｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+ ashley graham x fem ! reader

warnings ｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+ just fluff , not proof read

a/n ｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+ Hai I suggest listening to she's my religion by pale waves while reading this :3 kind of inspired by that song! also second fic...And its fluff, an upgrade from the angst last time...

She's coming back. She's finally coming back. Ashley has been gone for a day or two and you hadn't stopped worrying since. Leg bouncing, you wait anxiously for the helicopter to land. Eyes shifting from the sky to the helipad.

sky, helipad, sky, helipad, sky, helipad, sky, helip—

you hear the sound of rotor blades, whirling in the sky. You jump from your seat, a smile spreading on your lips. Seeing her step out, you have to resist the urge to run to her, knowing you'll probably get tackled if you do.

After everything is good, Ashley notices you and runs straight to you. The two of you falling on the floor from the speed of her. Tears streaming down both of your faces, hugging her so tightly, afraid if you let go, she'll be gone again.

"Oh my god, I — I missed you so much. Thought I'd never see you again," hiccups interrupting your words.

She hides her face in the crook on your neck, tears falling on it. "I was so scared, so fucking scared...I didn't think I was gonna make it." Her words mumbles from your skin.

The two of you soon get up, still hugging while you start to smother her in kisses. That is until when a man approaches the two of you.

Leon Kennedy, if you remember correctly. He gives a small wave and Ashley reluctantly releases you.

"Oh! [Name], this is Leon. He's the agent they sent to get me. Both of us had one hell of a night." She jokes.

He reaches his hand out and you take it, giving him a firm handshake.

"Thank you, thank you so much for bringing her back home. I don't know what I would've done if she never came home."

"No need to thank me, it is my job after all." His tone dry, you give an awkward smile. "I should get going," he gives Ashley a short hug and then pats her shoulder, "get home safe. Not sure if I'm willing to save you again after tonight," he smirks.

Ashley punches his shoulder, "yeah, yeah...See you around, Leon!" Waving as he starts to walk away, she turns back to you.

"You two remind me of siblings..Look like it too. You sure you don't have a long lost brother?"

"Oh, stop it! But, yeah, I do see him as an older brother. He kept me safe, didn't give up on me all the time in Spain...I'm thankful for him."

You hum and take her hand.

"Shall we?" You point your thumb to where the escort is.

"We shall." She leans on you as the two of you walk to the car and get in. Heading home, finally able to embrace each other again. She falls asleep on your shoulder and you soon fall asleep as well.

She's finally back in your arms, that's all you could ask for.

a/n 2 ｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+ i kind of wanna make a part 2 of this...like them goijg on a cute lil date...If i do make one lmk if youd wna b tagged :3 tho I am not promising a part two! again, reblogs ++ comments appreciated!!!!!

#sillygraham #resident evil #ashley graham #ashley graham x fem!reader #ashley graham x reader #fem reader #fem!reader #resident evil x reader #re4 #resident evil 4 #leon kennedy #wlw #fluff #resident evil fluff #ashley graham fluff #leon n ashley have such a sibling relationship idc what u think...#leon s kennedy #i need to write a leon fic now

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hwaightme · 1 year

Text

In memoriam

THIS IS 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI FOR STAR'S SAKE (nsfw tags under the cut) (masterlist) (join taglist)

⚪ pairing: seonghwa x afab!reader ⚪ genre: angst (sorry seonghwa), smut, time leaping, magical realism ⚪ summary: what would you do to get your life back? what would you do, if you found out that you could turn back time? park seonghwa knows his answer, and does not care for the price he has to pay. ⚪ wordcount: 8.3k ⚪ warnings/tags: husband!hwa, language, implied major death, crying, time leaping, barista!san, magical cafe, turning back time, grieving, discussion of habits, a whole lot of coffee, hope, love, loss, lmk if anything else ⚪ taglist: @doom-fics @legohwas @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven @cqndiedcherries @uwuheeseungie @hoshischeekss @frankenstein852 @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld ⚪ a/n: after severe ult bias wreck, I have been in a -state-, and after listening to suggested songs (under cut) + me generally loving the film The Girl Who Leapt Through Time and the book series Before The Coffee Gets Cold... this happened. Hope you enjoy, much love, all reblogs, comments thoughts and notes welcome~

⚪ nsfw tags: no protection, cum inside, praise, seonghwa being very soft, everything is very vanilla tbh, slow sex, slight overstim, focus on feeling of closeness

⚪ playlist: suffering for love by eden (a/n:what sparked this), somewhere by o3ohn, dancing with your ghost by sasha alexa sloan, holo by leehi, stay here by gaho, i wanna cry by seori, not too late by ateez

The ticking of the clock, giving rhythm to his trepidation, the second hand measuring out the beating of his heart devise a believable steadiness. In two minutes and three seconds, you were going to brush strands of your hair behind your right ear, sighing at the necessity for the repeated motion. You were curled up the impromptu reading nook that you had crafted out of an array of pillows and a throw – items that Seonghwa had meticulously picked out to fit the interior of your shared apartment, now a creative installation with you as its centrepiece.

He was exactly where he had been, and where he would be should he wish to relive this moment again: leaning against the dining table, hands pressed into the edge of the lacquered wood, coolness spreading to his trembling fingertips, stuck in a permanent dilemma. He studied you as though you were a heavenly mirage, admiring every inch of your form as faint fragments of the sun streamed through the window and graced your delicate skin. Seonghwa was never sure whether the glow that enveloped you, that blissful haze so innate, so intricate, was from the mellow rays or from the boundless light that you possessed, so strong that it permeated through you, and yet too precious for this mortal world. So, he had settled, even then, for the only explanation that seemed logical, no matter how irrational the concept seemed to someone who had not had the chance to know you.

“Angel, are you sure you don’t want me to get you anything?”

There it was, the brush of the hair, that dazzling smile, heart-melting expression as you turned your head towards him, placing a finger down on the cream-coloured page to mark your line of immersion.

“Yes, Hwa I’m good. Though actually, if you could grab some more gochujang paste, that would be great. I promised your mom a recipe exchange so not running low on ingredients is probably a good start.”

He beamed, though the incessant ticking induced a heaviness in his chest. That was right, in a week’s time his mother would be visiting the two of you with a crate of goods from home, and you would spend the day cooking together, constantly shooing Seonghwa out of the kitchen so that he ‘would not interfere with the production line’. And then, they would not let him leave until he tried every dish.

“One of these days my mom will kidnap you, I swear.” He responded, running a hand through his hair to mask his agitation.

“Well, I am already dressed like her kid, and I do like naps.”

“Now for humour…”

“… I know, I know, much better than you so she’ll figure the switch out straight away.” You winked, and before Seonghwa could respond, returned to the novel, your attention drifting from the conversation in a matter of seconds. How could he not love you?

That morning you had been cheeky enough to steal one of his shirts, parading in it and uttering phrases in dialect, in as low a voice as you could muster, eliciting amused laughter from Seonghwa. The light blue and white striped linen suited you more than it did him, he had decided. At least, it suited the joy that you experienced when he, faking vexation from your antics, had wrapped you in his arms, peppering you with soft reminders of his adoration on your cheeks, nose, lips.

In thirty seconds, he was to push himself away from the table, amble towards you, and plant a kiss on the top of your head, resting his forehead against you before bidding you farewell. As he diligently completed the actions, you reached out to grasp his wrist, and pulled him closer. In nine seconds, you let go. In three, he mumbled he would be right back. And just as the clock showed three twenty-seven in the afternoon, he leaned down to put a pair of sneakers on in the entryway, and pushed the front door open to reveal a stunning, infinite expanse of white. Without fear, he stepped in, and was consumed by the pure, cleansing hue. The ironic embodiment of you.

It was overwhelming the first time. The migraine that had persisted then almost detracted him from the process, however as the number of attempts had grown into a routine, or rather, a habit, so did his resilience. Now, as he woke up from the trance, blinking away the blur that had occupied his vision, barely any physical trace of his venture remained. All except the dull ache. But that was a given, the torment was an old guest to his weary soul.

He was back. Back in the same café, sat at the table in the far corner, away from curious eyes, right by a living wall of ferns and succulents, so carefully tended to that Seonghwa had never once seen a single leaf be wilted; he would not put it beyond this place achieving a floral immortality – it was either that, or they were meticulously replaced to give the illusion of continuity. Even so, what would Seonghwa not give for that oblivious paradise? An easy listening instrumental track filled the air with semi-acoustic guitar and gentle waves of metal brushes on the drums. The rumbles and short hisses emanated from behind the counter, guiding Seonghwa’s gaze to the owner and main barista of the café, who was languidly cleaning a metal beaker while keeping an eye out for any new customers. Even though he knew full well that while the remnants of the time shift were still suspended in the air, the space, completed in white and wooden tones, disappeared from the consciousness and vision of a passer-by.

Gradually, feeling returned to Seonghwa’s hands and feet, and he stretched his hands out in front of him, scrutinising the digits. Was it really the dark chestnut table that he touched? Was it really your hair that he caressed and your voice that entranced him so? The disentanglement from what had been and what could be was always the most agonising aspect of his commitment. But for the sake of keeping you in the present, this was the least he could sacrifice. As he blinked away the last of his emotion, steeling himself for the day ahead, Seonghwa turned to the large shop window to peer at the metropolitan commotion. The forlorn palette of greys that guided his interpretation was reflected in every building, every cloud that threatened catastrophic storms, every scowl on a stranger and in the cold concrete. Nothing new. Just a setting to let time pass by him.

As his heart beat to the pitter-patter of seconds, washing over him, Seonghwa hesitantly trudged to the counter and fished out the black leather wallet you had gifted him for your three year anniversary, stopping to brush his thumb over your picture that he inserted into the transparent compartment. A candid shot of you under the magnolias, a light squint of the eyes and scrunch of the nose as you had tilted your head to greet the sunshine that streamed through the brilliant white canopy. After the photo was taken, you had found a branch that had been snapped by the wind, and took it home, tending to the young blossoms that were protected by proud leaves, leaping into the air excitedly as they unfurled to reveal their apex of beauty. That time, you had admonished Seonghwa for not even sparing a glance at the flowers while complimenting them, but he was sure in his decision to not take his gaze off you.

“That’ll be three thousand won.” The barista sighed, a concerned smile on his lips as he studied the dark-haired man before him. The regular floated in a torpid melancholy, though his amiable expression and impressively polite discourse, be it with him or with another customer, had never let what he had seen on the first visit slip and shatter.

“Here you are. Thank you, San.” Seonghwa answered absent-mindedly as he handed the owner three glossy paper bills.

“Not a problem.” The barista and owner of the café Memento added the amount to the cash register with practiced motions, hands moving on their own accord.

Fluid, intrinsic, skilled. A repetition that served to mark the end of Seonghwa’s weekly visit. Except here, there was no way to guess what San would choose to do next, even though his uniform, his environment were all the same – there was no comfort in awareness of the future, and while that was a reminder that Seonghwa had successfully returned, the notion had recently begun to induce a subtle hum of distress within him. At least he was lucky enough to have found a temporary aid to the predicament.

“Back so soon?”

It was not Thursday, that much Seonghwa knew. For the past couple of months he visited strictly on Thursday mornings, and would be able to sustain himself and hold out until the next unscheduled visit, but one cemented in his routine. But the last few days had unfolded as though the universe itself was against him, proving that calamity was always lying in wait for the first sign of tranquility. He was distressed, on the verge of tearing himself and everyone around him apart - had he the power of Atropos, the floor would be decorated with abstract snippets of existence, grotesque and grim, but at least the act was committed at his own volition. Some fragment of control still remaining, albeit in his fantasies. This was why his feet led him here, to café Memento, through the heavy downpour outside which he had to experience in full force due to the ill-timed breaking of his umbrella. Seonghwa’s coat clung to him in a drowning desperation, giving him a sullen, forlorn appearance of a lost man. With haphazard motions he attempted to slick his hair back so that the accumulated raindrops would cease to run down his face, though that did little comically little.

Fumbling in the entrance of the café, the young man watched as the barista, turned passive confidante, stepped out from behind the counter, raising his index finger into the air as a sign to wait before disappearing behind the staff door. In his absence, Seonghwa attempted to peel the trench coat off, discovering that, for the most part, his shirt had been protected well by the waterproof material. So, it was almost like that evening he had been replaying in his mind the last three days, but not close enough. It was late June then. He was wearing a light cotton t-shirt, jeans, and converses, enveloped in the monsoon’s sudden attack while he had been circling the apartment complex where you lived, cursing himself. He had been more rain than man then. But the personal likeness did not matter, so long as he could get the coffee and take his practically assigned seat in the corner.

“Here, a towel, your collar’s getting damp, and let me hang the coat to dry… you absorbed a whole raincloud, didn’t you?” San had reappeared, and made a beeline for his friend, who was still standing at the door, water dripping onto the welcome mat, blending with the invisible chains of grief that were his loyal followers. A small, yet dazzling smile in thanks was shot in the barista’s direction as the dishevelled man accepted the towel, commencing to dry off his hair and neck.

“Certainly felt like it. And thank you. Sorry for barging in like this, I really don’t know what-”

“You want the usual, right?” the interjection cut right to the truth. Of course, what was Seonghwa thinking? After so many weeks of asking for coffee that he, in fact, despised, sitting in the same place and leaving the present to see visions of you, it would take someone who knew nothing at all to assume Seonghwa wanted anything else. Even the most distant acquaintance would probably make the rights guess. It was obvious that he was here to see you. He needed to, or his frustrations would eat him whole.

“Right.” Unintentionally curt, Seonghwa muttered his response while wiping down the droplets from his feverish skin. Concerned preoccupied him as he wondered if illness would prevent him from seeing you. No, he could not get ill. He still had so much material to cover.

“Figured. Life’s got you down?” either happily disinterested, or deciding to ignore Seonghwa’s shift in attitude, San continued in the same level tone as he finished hanging up the trench coat on the rack that stood in a corner by the door, obscured by an overgrown potted palm tree. Stretched over a couple of hooks, it looked every bit like a damp scarecrow, eliciting a sharp exhale through the nose from its owner.

“You could say that.”

“So down, that you walked here, in the rain?” using his beige apron to dry off his hands, the broad-shouldered man asked. Truth be told, it was not confirmation of his friend’s troubles that he was after. It was the cry, the realisation that he was going too far.

But much to the café owner’s dismay, Seonghwa saw no evil in his choices, instead choosing to rationalise them, supress the abysmal distress each one would inevitably bring by considering everything except the future. To this man, who obediently followed San to the counter, and waited for him to walk back around and take his usual spot, the suffering that came with each veering of the path was a divine, cleansing punishment that, at the end of it all, still brought him joy.

“Well, metro, then the walking in the rain.” Seonghwa stated as-a-matter-of-factly, draping the towel over his neck after gesturing to San whether it would be fine if he could keep it for the time being, and with a quick nod from him, gave a quiet word of gratitude and wiped a stray droplet that was threatening to roll down his forehead with the corner of the white fabric.

“Nonetheless, aren’t there… other ways?”

Seonghwa stared at the large coffee machine as though it was a beast, in slumber until the next press of a button, to avoid making eye contact. His mind had been far too hazy since early morning, and the myriad of repetitive work meetings had exhausted his ability to keep up appearances. He was toeing a line, a couple of phrases away from completely snapping, and studying the tiny coffee splatter stuck to steel decal at the top of the machine took off some of the edge, forcing him to refocus on the desire to wipe the damn spot away.

“Nothing like a nice hot americano to save the day.” He mumbled, glancing at San, only to be met with a questioning eyebrow and pursed lips.

“You literally do not even like coffee.”

“And you own a café, but drink decaf.”

“Touché. Alright then, the usual it is…” the battle was short-lived, overtaken by a tense quiet, subsequently filled by the ambient rumbling, shuffling and clinking – the sonorous colours of any ordinary coffee shop. It was clear enough that there was too much left unsaid, only to dissolve in the drink like a sugar cube turned sour. What was there to admonish? Love? Devotion? Never before had San seen such dedication in a customer when it came to the specially prepared beverage, he concluded as he murmured the incantations, concentrating on making the coffee bloom to its fullest. In situations such as this, he pondered what his life would be like had he not inherited this café, and along with it, the power to control time.

The torrential downpour outside was not letting up, and the droplets that accumulated on the shopfront’s awning were hammering down onto the pavement, spilling over and composing a cacophony. Seonghwa observed the enchantment, attempting to mentally follow the steps for the pourover, but ultimately failing even though San had gone through them, diligently, on the first three visits. As the grounds, with the beans freshly roasted and the final product all made in-house, were being wetted by the hot water pouring from the long spout of a black gooseneck kettle, cradled in the barista’s steady hands, the morose bystander imagined the city to be one big coffee cup, with the solemn concrete jungle resembling the rise and falls of the grounds’ dunes, taking and taking more of the rainwater and leaving behind exhausted, breathless shells called citizens. From far away, there was a unity, a name for the powder-like substance turned to a paste, but look closer, and each grain was lonely in its own special way, only there to dissolute, and diffuse into a bitter potion.

“Here.” As soon as the last of the substance was extracted and joined forces with the fluid in the cup, San set it on a white plate with a black rim, and carefully positioned the beverage onto an elevated portion of the counterspace, right above the display of baked goods and desserts, almost empty – reasonable, considering the late hour after a busy day.

“Thank you-” just as he reached out to grab the cup, excited to finally flee to his safe haven, the barista stopped him on his tracks.

“Seonghwa, hate to be that guy, but are you sure you do not need any other help at all?” the apprehension in his voice made the taller man’s stomach churn. Did he have to raise this point now, of all times? When Seonghwa wanted nothing more but to curl up in your arms and sink into a divinity only you two could share? He was not in the headspace to even mention the existence of alternatives. In his view, there was only one right path to follow, and it was one mapped out in scars on his heart.

“What are you insinuating?” he narrowed his eyes, hinting at an undercurrent of hostility.

“Nothing! Just, you know… This is meant to be temporary. There are only so many times you can bend time to your will before it snaps you.” Already anticipating a complete disregard for his warnings, San explained his worries much like he would explain the menu to a newcomer.

“But it’s all fine-” he gripped the plate tighter in his hands, lifting the ceramic off the counter and watching the liquid lap at the edges, a deep mahogany ocean. As he caught the glint of the lamplight reflected in its ripples, he could not help but search for the glimmer that was always in your eyes.

“Until it won’t be. Seonghwa, I know what this means to you, and I can see how you change after each leap but… I am worried.”

“Well… don’t, seriously. It’s fine. I just… I just need this. Okay?” he was met by a shake of the head, and a lean forward – San took the towel by its edge, and slipped it off Seonghwa’s neck, leaving it exposed to an unfamiliar chill. In a strive to supress the shiver, the exasperated man continued, choking out the words through a well-mannered filter: “And don’t I look like I am simply asleep when I am out there?”

“True that. Head down like the table is a pillow.” The barista responded, seemingly unperturbed as he flung the towel into a basket hidden under the workspace and wiped his hands on his apron. When he did not make any further attempts to prolong the fruitless discussion, Seonghwa’s feet moved on their own accord, spinning his body around, ready to dive into his long-awaited oasis.

“Alright then… catch you… later?” he threw out over his shoulder, casting San one final glance before striding towards the table, area dimly lit, but so cosy, promising the echoes of his real home.

“Mhm. I’ll be where I usually am. Not that you need me, but still. I’ll keep watch.”

“I appreciate it.” Words thrown out only to be swept away by the air conditioning, meaningless in the sense of emotion. Mentally, he was already in transit.

As Seonghwa settled into the chair, he felt lighter. As if the mere anticipation of seeing you once again was already capable of lifting some of his ache. He concentrated on the cup before him. A simple number, with the only decoration being those black lines, reminiscent of lines of misfortune that occupied an individual’s life. Ironic how this was to be his fated cup. The contemporary chalice that gave him the power to enjoy the moments he had mourned. As he did in every iteration of his new ‘always’, he pictured you, sat in front of him, in this very café, drinking the bitter black coffee, breaking out into a grin as you slipped into a child-like enjoyment. This black and white cup was the one you had held in your hands, commenting on how you and Seonghwa should try and find a similar set. To this day, he could not fulfil this little dream of yours. Maybe they were not being made anymore, and nothing merely similar would be up to standard.

Your figure became clearer and clearer before his eyes, until he could not distinguish between what should be, and what indeed was. This stage was the trickiest, for with every fibre of his being Seonghwa wanted to reach out to you, place his hand over yours and whisper just how much he missed you, how afraid he was that you were gone, not for good, not for evil, simply gone. It took training, resilience, and patience with himself to go further back, rewind the time until he hit the desired mark, and as the image was comparable to reality before him, he shut his eyes, and took a tentative sip of the coffee.

A flash. Pure white, drumming of the rain turning into deafening tick, tock, tick, tock. Sensation that felt like his body was turning inside out, collapsing and regrowing as he felt the ground beneath him, and the sky’s tears beating down on him, streaming down his face. With this, he regained his balance and sense of direction, and pressing a hand right above his brows to shield his vision from the rain, peeked at the scene. Just as he had expected, it was the little square, the pagoda with no proper roof to shield him, the paths, lit by weak yellowish streetlights. He was ready to go back home. To see you. To play the scene out and devote himself to you once more. There was a limit to what far removed, isolated worship could do.

He pushed himself off the soaked wooden seating that framed the inside of the pagoda, and stumbled out, still dizzy from the leap. Massaging his temples with the hand he had used as a visor, he tried to soothe at least some of the stinging, until it turned into a dull ache that was easier to handle, more customary. Before long, it melted into the buzz, the anticipation for what was to happen next.

He commenced a countdown in the form of footsteps as he stalked toward the complex, fully aware of you watching him from the windows. That was what you were going to say… later, but you were going to say it. You were going to reveal to him just how worried you had been, how you wanted him to come back as soon as he shut the door, and how his action had torn you apart. It really had been over nothing at all, but much like in the present, his week had gotten to him, but now there was no escape, except to break his routine, and sink into the feeling of you. Your voice, your caresses, your love. The world was moving slowly as he strode up the stairs to the entrance doors, fingers automatically finding the passcode although he could not consciously recall it. One step, two, and he was at the staircase that wound around the elevator, choosing the former to alleviate some of the tension.

To no avail. Instead, the adrenaline pumped with more vigour, causing his rationality to grow blurry and pulse to go haywire as he spurred himself on. Only a few more steps. And there would be you. Thirty seconds. Fifteen. He was at the door to the apartment. Seonghwa stilled himself, glancing back to take note of the trail of moisture that he had left, mentally apologising to the cleaners that would have to handle the mess the next day – he would hear them chiding ‘whoever this person was’ in the tomorrow of the past at precisely six thirty-eight in the morning.

He had only returned to this scene once before. A while back. And had promised himself to not do it again because of the toll it had taken on him. But desperate times called for desperate measures. And he desperately needed you. The familiar flicker of the lightbulb at the end of the hallway, footsteps that he could make out from behind the door as you approached were setting him ablaze. There you were. You. No one else. Not a replacement, but really you. It was your fingers that pinched the door chain and slid it out of position, your hand that took the door handle and pulled it in, it was you who was standing before him, teary-eyed, but obviously relieved to see him.

You were about to approach him and wrap your hands around his torso when you noticed just how soaked he was from facing the elements after his stress-induced outburst. He had chosen to exit the apartment instead of uttering as much as a single word aside from the command to not follow, leaving you disconcerted and peering out of the window into the starless night. It was a simple, common domestic argument that had set him off. Something or other about the arrangement of cutlery in the drawer, that then moved to the discussion of plates in the cupboards, and eventually grew into a back and forth about interior design. Any other day, Seonghwa probably would had stayed and talked it out, but this outburst which now served to be a perfect anchor for his travels, was the result of pent up emotion. It was odd, but he was grateful for having let his feelings overflow that day, otherwise this previous moment, this ethereal intimacy would not have been so prominent in his mind.

Seonghwa’s gaze burned into you as you hugged your own form, highlighting the curves hidden under the oversized t-shirt dress that you were wearing, the argument having taken place right before bed. Hair loose and slightly dishevelled, you look to have been playing with it – something you did when you were nervous. You would inspect the ends, twirl the strange, arrange and rearrange… and then when he would place a hand on your thigh, or take your hand in his, you would become aware of your state, start counting under your breath, resuming a shared tranquility. While he could not imagine the distress that you experienced internally, it was reassuring that even if for a fraction of a second, he could bring you peace from your loud mind.

Your eyes were reddened – likely from being rubbed to convince yourself that you were not about to cry over simple things. A light tremble of your lower lip as you took in his form, with Seonghwa exuding abandonment, regret, loss… a rocking from heel to toe as you propelled yourself towards him, reaching out to cup his face while ushering him inside. Who was he kidding when he thought that this would be easy to re-enact? He was guilty as charged. This was his doing. How could he possibly enjoy seeing you in pain? The preceding events objectively amounted to nothing, but your sadness was real, how you gasped and said his name was real. This was real.

Tears sprung to his eyes as you cooed and ran your fingers through his wet hair, forgetting about your own clothing as you approached to comfort him. Seonghwa was bewildered – no, he should be the one comforting you! How was this in any way appropriate, he should be strong, he should- he was struggling to form a single coherent thought as all prior resolve evaporated like snow on a hot summer day, and he crumbled under your touch. Your thumbs brushed over his cheers, carrying away tears that he did not know he was spilling, as you called out to him.

“Hwa, my love please… if you cry, I cry…I’m sorry-”

“I’m sorry Y/N! My angel! Please… forgive me… I’m sorry… I’m so… so sorry…” Seonghwa wailed as his knees buckled under him, and barely having made it past the door frame, with you having just shut the door with a light kick of the foot, he slowly descended to the ground, with you promptly following.

“What? This was… this was just a plate, Hwa… both of us had a stressful week and-” you attempted to rationalise, failing to swallow the lump that had formed in your throat at the sight of your husband falling apart, words sounding choked out. You forced him to keep his attention on you as you searched for any kind of explanation in his widened eyes glossed over with sorrow.

“So sorry… I am so sorry I couldn’t do anything… Please I should have… I should have not let you go… I am so…” he slipped. He lost the plot, the phrases bursting out of him before he could do anything to stop them. It was no longer clear what it was that he was apologising for. He gripped the soaked denim, right above his knees, though the sensation of his fingers digging into his thighs did nothing to curb his disillusionment.

“What are you saying baby, I’m right here…” you whispered, one hand moving to pat his shoulder, gliding over the muscle and soon your arm was pulling the man closer and closer to you. He hesitated, afraid to soak your dress, though knowing that it was going to happen anyway.

“Y/N!”

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m sorry too. Come here.” Without any further waiting, he threw his arms around you. There you were. Your warmth against him as you rubbed his back, not caring for his blubbering, for his sniffling against the crook of your neck. He kept on mumbling apologies and your name, over, and over, and over again, as though those were the only words he knew, and his native tongue had otherwise departed from his consciousness.

“What has gotten into you, huh? It really wasn’t that big of a deal. I’ll even accept that I was wrong for putting the mug in that drawer.” You attempted to change the tone, adopting a more upbeat, lighthearted attitude while you wiggled to sit more comfortably. Your husband followed your every move, and soon enough you found yourselves sitting in a tight embrace right at the step that marked the difference between the entrance, and the apartment’s corridor.

“I’m sorry…”

“Okay, I get that, but what for? For being human and having a temper sometimes? We’ve been living together for two years, Hwa. Two. And you are here acting like we haven’t argued before.”

Two years. Two years, three months, and seven days, if he were to be exact. He had your history together memorised, and as he kept on leaping, the accuracy turned from weeks, to days, to hours, to minutes, and for some events, down to the second. In three, two, one – you kissed the top of his head, just like he had done to you many times.

“I am so selfish, Y/N…” he whispered, hoarse.

“Aren’t we all?”

“Not like me.”

“No one is like you, and I mean that in the best sense. What kind of selfish are you even talking about Seonghwa?”

“I exhaust you. I repeat the same things, again, and again, tire you out and take you for granted.” He tried to explain himself, but his haze was refusing to let him abide by the regular scenario, instead letting him go off script and improvise.

You tapped him, signalling for Seonghwa to lean back and look at you. When his half-lidded eyes met yours, you muttered for him to sit down properly. Obediently, he twisted his body, and did what he was told. You remained by his side, one arm wrapped around his shoulders as you guided yourself to take a seat on his lap, effectively straddling him. One leg on either side, you pushed yourself closer, until your nose was against his, and you were peering into his pupils.

“I could repeat every moment with you forever, Hwa, never get tired, and always, do you hear me? Always, feel loved.” He took your words as gospel, as a clairvoyant portrayal that he would follow.

“I’m sorry.”

“How sorry?” you blurted, not thinking straight as you breathed against his lips, almost touching. Your arms draped around him, while he positioned his cool hands on your hips, more than aware of the proximity.

“Very.”

“Prove it.”

“Let me love you.”

“Now that’s something you should repeat more often, darling.”

You were supposed to kiss. You were supposed to sink into one another and blend into a loving embrace. Where were you? Why couldn’t he see you? A panic set into Seonghwa’s chest as his eyes shot open, and no matter where he looked, no matter how hard he twisted his neck, he was only met with the vast expanse of white. But his hands-

No longer holding onto you, they reached for thin air, only to fall, defeated, disappearing into a thick cloud-like fog. He yelled out your name, but was only met with a searing, piercing tone as though from an explosion blasting right into his ears, and no sign of his voice. He tried again, rushing to cover his ears on instinct as the high-pitched screech returned, though that did next to nothing, except proving that the colourless infinity was more merciless than nature itself. Slowly understanding the rule of not disturbing the soundlessness, Seonghwa blindly felt for the ground on which he was sitting. What if you were lost in this expanse with him? Where could you have gone? His best attempt would be to try feeling for any vibrations, and send some of his own. You must be in the minimalist hellscape with him, he convinced himself and knocked on what he had decided was the ground but was met with nothing.

His fist, then arm then the rest of the body fell through a chasm and in a split second, the white was cleared from his vision as suddenly as it had appeared. Perplexed and terrified, Seonghwa looked around, only to feel that he was stark naked, in the bedroom, with you under him. Slowly he turned his head to look downwards, and was greeted by your face, contorted in pleasure as you let out sultry moans, hands gripping the pillow that was supporting your head. You looked so beautiful, angelic as you whimpered his name, while he continued to thrust into you.

The sudden transition had thrown Seonghwa off kilter, and he inadvertently slowed down, hissing as he felt your walls contract around his throbbing member. The intensity of the intimate act had returned the senses to his body at an unprecedented speed, making him dizzy. Struggling to support himself with his outstretched arms, he lowered his body until it was flush against yours, and he was on his elbows. Every micromovement was a challenge while his cock was still inside you, though counterbalanced by the fear of this divinity being replaced by the white abyss once more.

“Hwa… ah… why’d you… why’d you stop?” you asked, breathless as your eyelids barely lifted to peek at him. Some stray strands of hair were stuck to your forehead, caught in a sheen of sweat that made you look ethereal in the light that had crept into the bedroom through the window, as the storm outside had calmed to reveal a timid moon, peering from behind the heavy clouds that lethargically moved across the sky. Your lips, rosy and plump, evidently from having been against his for long enough, were slightly parted as you panted shallowly. Seonghwa further lowered himself until he was hovering right above you, unable to stop himself from giving you a soft kiss, and whispering:

“I want to love you. Slowly.”

“Didn’t feel like it.” You quipped, a ghost of a smirk taunting him, earning a chuckle.

“Sorry, you know what you do to me.”

“No more ‘sorry’, darling, just give me all of you.” You moved so your hands were clasped around your husband’s neck, and sighed as he pushed himself up and bottomed out, the fullness making you see stars.

“I love you Y/N.”

“I love you ah- too… Hwa.”

As promised, following his return from nothingness, he took things slow. With every thrust into your aroused core, he worshipped you, whispering praise after praise in your ear about how well you took him, and just how good you made him feel. Finely attuned to every change in your body, he adjusted his angle, his rhythm, until you were, once again, a whining goddess being brought to a magnificent ruin. Only this time, he was going to remember every picosecond. He noted how your eyes rolled to the back of your head underneath your lids, how your tongue flicked to the corner of your mouth, for just a split second, but enough to demand Seonghwa’s attention. In one sensual motion, he moved his cock deeper, and gave himself access for another, longer expression of his love. His tongue gingerly parted your lips, and you readily accepted him, appreciative of the caution and affection in his gesture. As you ascended in the adoring expression, Seonghwa decided that this was true timelessness. And the only one he ever needed. Only you and him, with only love between you.

Seonghwa had a habit of looking at you as though you were the only precious thing in his universe with those gorgeous brown orbs. And while you otherwise would glow at the realisation, tonight, there was something different. First, it was him apologising for ‘letting you go’, then it was him nearly completely switching character and nearly making you lose all sense of self as he pounded into you with a carnal desire, and now, it was a slow, sensual unravelling. The light pecks on your cheeks, trailing down to your neck, and the loving gaze as Seonghwa confessed his love to you as if this was the first and last time, were too much for you to take. There was an omniscience about him, otherworldly knowledge, like he was somewhere else entirely, aware of every nuance of your inner world and capable of changing your very fate. Your precious Seonghwa, your future.

Your high came suddenly and violently from the sustained length of each movement that made you concentrate on every detail, from the way in which Seonghwa had teased you by stimulating your clit with his leaking cock, to how he silenced you with a kiss, inhaling your uncontrollable moans. As though you were a fragile doll, he embraced you as best as he could without collapsing on your chest, while he searched for the opportunity to chase his own release.

His movements began to falter as his own orgasm inched closer and closer, the knot in his stomach becoming nearly unbearable. The steady pace was broken into stutters as he rolled his hips, directing his member fully into your still-pulsating sex, the lewd melody emanating from him slapping against you only driving him further into his small death. The overstimulation was making you squirm, but you held on, and the way in which your nails dug into his back, and how you mumbled, barely audible, a soft and innocent ‘Seonghwa’ had sent him over the edge. Throwing his head back he groaned into his climax, euphoric while the viscous webs of cum painted your walls and labia as he pulled out in an attempt to control the trembling of his muscles. Rivulets of cum continued to pour from him, mixing with your sweet nectar, running down your smooth thighs. Unable to hold out much longer, he uttered your name, and in your blissful state, you responded by pulling him towards you, towards a comforting darkness.

The rise and fall, the pulse, the hum, your hand running through his hair, which was now mostly dry: all signs of you being real, being with him and sharing time and space. Seonghwa was home, everything was how it was supposed to be. You were excitedly talking about your work trip - a major design commission for a client abroad, and the post-coital somnolence was blocking his immediate awareness of this fact, until you addressed him directly.

“Mm… Hwa?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think the magnolias will be blooming once I’m back?”

“Yes, angel.”

They were a day too late.

"You have to let go, Seonghwa! You can't do this to yourself forever! You are not living!" San’s voice resounded through the café as he glowered at the man before him.

"I know you understand that I live when I am there!"

Clearly, for the state in which he had appeared in the establishment left nothing but exasperation. Pallid, his shirt crumpled, dark circles having grown even more prominent than before, the look was so uncharacteristic of Seonghwa that San needed to spend a couple minutes simply observing the customer in order to recognise him. But the stupefaction was rapidly dispelled as soon as he heard a familiar, low and dulcet voice order ‘the usual’. However, this time, this meant a ‘special offer’ from the owner himself.

“You only have so many leaps left. You know this whole thing is unstable. What if you don’t come back?” while he was aware that what he was doing was horrifically unacceptable, regardless of their so-called friendship status, San yelled across the room, only to be met with a matching boom.

“What would change?”

“Oh, you damn well know what would change, don’t do this to me.” San dismissed his customer’s challenge, slamming his hand onto the counter to control his rage.

“Look. San. I appreciate you trying to intervene, but I think that I can handle it.” The phrase, uttered by a poor soul, clearly addicted, induced a threatening scowl. After a painful minute of silence, with the two men standing, ready for a verbal duel, San fired first, promising Seonghwa’s worst nightmare.

“I can just not serve you the coffee.”

“And I can just… no, you wouldn’t do this to me.” Seonghwa had gotten used to the white flashes while he spent time with you. It was almost comforting, and had turned to be a device that brought him back to his senses so that he would not get too attached. Nevertheless, every time that he did slip into the realm, a new hope joined, that of the possibility of you escaping with him. Finding yourself in the white landscape, and promptly departing the past, following the ticking of the clock until it stopped, letting you enter the café, and return into Seonghwa’s life. San could not take this hope away-

“I will. The café is closed for business today. Because I said so. Seonghwa, get a grip. She is-” he began but was promptly shut down with a wrathful roar.

“No. She is not. Whatever you are about to say she is not.”

“Seonghwa you are not okay. Please. Please, just… please live for yourself for a second and stop looking back-”

He did not want to hear it. He did not want to hear what should have stopped him long before, prior to when he had the chance to experience the instant cure to his madness. So in a fit of indignation, he strode out of the café, not bothering to shut the door behind him. It was only a matter of time before he would be back. New day, same old scars on his heart, with each passing tick, tock, tick, tock, tearing at the amateur stitching until the wounds returned, infected by solitary lamentation, festering with cognizance of the colourless cosmos he had to battle, alone in a city of millions.

A month passed. Two. Without a word uttered about you. In silent melancholy he kept the memory of you alive, each detail in his routine turning into a memento mori, a subconscious devotion. From the chrome silver earring he chose to wear, to the loosely knit black cotton sweater, he did not have to be explicit in the pull towards the centre of his inner universe. When it was not you he saw, it was the shadows. When it was not you he heard, it was the echoes. Be it in an interlocutor, a passer-by, an illusion conjured by hope, the world seemed to be like you. All similarities, nuances, interpretations... but still so painfully distant.

Seonghwa listened to the same songs on repeat – songs that you had recommended to him over the years. Again, and again, and again until he heard them even in the lonely silence. A numbing balm to his unforgiving mind, the melodies were an extended monologue – a lifeline. At least they were not creations in the past tense. And one of your favourite artists was even on tour; a proof for the musical organism still pumping its melodic blood, one listener less. Would you go? Of course, you would. You lived for the memories. You had crafted your life to be a series of perfectly curated, picturesque moments, and time aided in cultivating the final selection to be your most precious. He had turned into a loyal spectator, watching with bated breath as the episodes passed him by, under your direction, starring you, produced by you. He could only succumb to the unchangeable fall through time and follow you until that last, unfinished sentence.

He wanted to hate you. He wanted to erase you. Seonghwa desperately wanted to banish you from his psyche, in which you were so deeply entrenched that he would answer to your name.

His love for you was his poison, and he knew that his friends were right. In the cycle, the circle he had drawn to trap what had remained of you and him, was to be his inevitable full stop. His sentence was far from being completed, and yet after what one could call his comma, he struggled to find words. Perhaps because there were none that he found worthy of ever competing with what had been. It was not possible to despise happiness itself, nor was it to not crave it. Just once more. One more time to experience that utopia. A bittersweet suffering completed in shades of a heartbreaking blue.

And that was how he found himself in that same park, under those same white magnolias. In a trance he studied your wind-swept hair, your white cotton sweater and baby blue, washed out jeans, making sure that you were wearing those earrings he had bought you for no reason in particular except to make you happy – perhaps an expensive gift for what would be only a month that you had been a couple, but your gleam had been priceless. His gaze travelled to your hands, spotting that there was still that tiny chip on your manicured left index finger.

Same words. Same motions. Like running through a script of his beloved drama, one that he knew by heart and uttered in his slumber. All going according to the heavens' loathsome plan, until your lips that were tinted with a gloss that he would find out in two weeks, and three days' time precisely was your recent favourite, were weighed down with a concerned frown, and your eyebrows furrowed.

"Why are you crying?"

Cautiously, Seonghwa lifted a hand to touch his cheek, finding a timid, glistening stream that had found its path from his eyed that widened in meek surprise. Another touch on the other side, and he rushed to wipe away the currents with the edge of his sleeve, stifling an agonising sob that threatened to burst out of his throat. His chest on fire, Seonghwa struggled to blink away the mist that settled over his eyes. He must not look away. He must not give into this cruel bleariness. Not when you were right there. You must be so worried. You were always worried about how deeply he felt, about how sentimental he got and would always wrap your arms around him, guiding him to relax into your body, whispering that everything was going to be okay. If only spectral, celestial embraces could comfort him the same.

"Happy to see you again..." he choked out, smiling helplessly as he saw your features return to your bright, hopeful beam, gaze nothing short of a window to paradise.

"Again? We've just seen each other last week, silly." You tilted your head as you responded - a motion he had seen time and time again and loved the same.

He desired to tell you. Tell you that you were meant to be. That there was a future, albeit with the horizon too close for comfort, but a future nonetheless, ahead of you with him. But he knew better than that. It would mean another lifetime wasted, and again, he would have to search space and time for signs of you. Yes, he was selfish, but how could he not be when the fruit of his love's greed was so sweet? He wanted to see all your reactions as if he had not committed them to memory.

"And yet, I feel like I have known you, and lived with you for many lifetimes."

"Then... here's to another?"

And another.

And-

326 notes · View notes

renloveskai · 1 year

Text

yeonjun calls you clingy/annoying

genre ~ angst w eventual fluff

warnings/tags ~ some cussing, talks about job insecurity, y/n and yeonjun are both bad at communicating (typical young relationships)

a/n ~ this is my first fic so please lmk what you think! im open to criticism and suggestions! also not proofread because im lazy

song of the fic ~ this is how you fall in love, Jeremy zucker

“y/n please leave my office I cannot deal with you right now” your boss says to you sighing and shooing you off

“understood sir, I apologize for the mix up”

you turn around and walk out the office with tears brimming your eyes.

between balancing your work tasks whilst accommodating to your bosses requests, your hands were very full at work today. your boss had asked you to hold on to important documents containing company intel, but somewhere between taking care of your own work you had lost track of the documents. begrudgingly you notified your boss about your mistake.

he did not take it lightly, instead he blew up in your face even threatening your job and adding on more things for you to do by the end of the day. safe to say you’ve had a stressful day. only one thing you want to do to destress, go home and spend quality time with your boyfriend.

you open the door to your apartment and drop your bag and jacket on the floor not even bothering to put your stuff away. you look around the living and don’t see yeonjun assuming he’s in his office.

lightly knocking on the opened office door you greet him “hey junnie, what you up to?”

he doesn’t respond to you so you walk up to him standing behind him at his desk. “hey what are you doing?”

he gives a short hum to you and responds “what do you need?” somewhat used to his lack of responsiveness you reply back “just wanna spend some time with you”

“cant right now, I’m busy”

you can see he’s playing video games, an fps to be specific. you put your hands on his shoulders rubbing them slightly. “you can play your game later let’s go hang out now”

“y/n can’t you see I’m in the middle of so- hey beomgyu watch flank!”

“yeonjun, have you even eaten anything today”

he doesn’t respond to you again so you push further beginning to become irritated. “hello, did you hear me?”

“yeah I heard you, I already said I’m busy let’s do what you wanna do later ok?”

“yeonjun I had a stressful day, i just wanna relax with you”

“y/n please we see each other almost everyday, we should have some time to ourselves too”

you scoff at his ridiculous statement “are you being serious right now? a video game is more important to you than me?”

“god I didn’t even say that! can you just let me breath for a second? you’re so damn clingy, fuck!”

you took you hands off of him standing there in shock. you can’t believe he just said that to you. tears brimming your eyes for the second time to day. you clear your throat and try to remain calm, feeling too tired to argue further.

“please can you just try to understand how I feel right now?” you pleaded with him.

“y/n im sick of dealing with your shit! can’t I just relax for once?”

“ok yeonjun I’ll leave you alone” you quickly turn around and walk to leave his office with tears threatening to spill.

“y/n wait!”

you turn around to see yeonjun still focused on his computer. “Could you shut the door ?”

any glimpse of hope you had that he would take back what he said was gone. you quietly shut the door and walk back to the front door to grab your bag. leaving the apartment you feel tears running down your face uncontrollably. it was like an involuntary reaction that you had no control over. it felt as if in this moment you weren’t allowed to feel any sense of relaxation, so you just decide to take a walk hoping some fresh air will relieve you a bit.

the cold air hitting your skin was bittersweet in a way where it hurt but made you feel alive. the sudden gush of wind made you realize you forgot to bring your jacket. fuck. oh well it’s too late to go back.

it was getting late, the tears had finally began to dry. you look at your phone

10:30pm

20% battery

damn I should head back. you didn’t feel like facing yeonjun right now. despite the uncomfortable sensation of the burning cold air, it still felt warmer than how yeonjun acted towards you. you put your phone on do not disturb to try and preserve your battery and walk into a cafe rest your tired legs.

finding a corner in the cafe where no one would bother you you decide to pull out your laptop and try to get a head start on your work for the next day to prevent any other mishaps. time flies and next thing you know the cafe worker taps you on the shoulder.

“hey, sorry to wake you but we’re closing in 10 minutes, no rush, just wanted to let you know” she gives you a sweet smile. “and here’s a cup of tea to go it looked like you were having a rough day”

“thank you I’ll be out soon, I just need to pack up” after she walks away you let out a big sigh dropping your hands in your face. great I’m visibly distressed. you feel tears beginning to form in your eyes again and try to resist the urge to cry. letting out a shaky breath you stand up and grab you stuff and quickly walk out of the cafe after leaving a $10 tip on the table to prevent any further embarrassment. you pull out your phone to check the time again

no battery

shit. okay where’s the way home. you eventually navigate your way home after taking a couple wrong turns. walking in your dark apartment you leave your things by the door and head to the bathroom for a quick shower. after your shower you go into the bedroom to see yeonjun sound asleep in bed and check the clock

3:00am

he didn’t even check to see where I was. not feeling up to sleeping with your boyfriend you opt for the guest room.

you wake up early unable to sleep due to all the thoughts running through your mind

7:00am

two hours to kill before work. you decide to make breakfast, eggs as pancakes. you make yourself a plate and leave some for yeonjun in the fridge. eating breakfast alone was something you were used to nowadays. after yeonjun went on hiatus for work, he stopped waking up early with you and started to stay in more. some days you would wonder if he got bored of you. does he even love you anymore? you cut the meal short and decide to take another shower, suddenly needing to rid yourself of negativity.

You come out of the shower and look at the time

8:00am

another hour. checking in on yeonjun he’s still asleep on the bed. beginning to become tired again you decide to take the day off work. you needed to work things out with two in anyway. you sit in the guest room desk completing any remote work waiting for yeonjun to wake up.

10:30am

he should be awake. you head over to your shared bedroom and peak inside, he’s sitting up scrolling through his phone. he’s surprised to see you, looking at the time then back at you.

“hey, no work today?”

“no I’m feeling kinda under the weather”

“are you sick?”

“No, just tired”

“tired of what? did something happen?”

You filling walk inside the room and sit at the edge of the bed facing him. his face had a puzzled look watching you carefully make your steps. why is he acting so normal? does he not remember what he said to you?

“yeonjun, are you happy?”

“am I happy?”

“yeah, are you?”

“I mean of course I am, Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I dunno just wonderin”

“y/n that’s a weird question”

“yeah sorry ive just been thinking a lot”

“thinking? about what?” he removes the comforter from his lap and comes closer to you sounding more concerned.

“d-do you still love me?” you voice is unsteady and you look down to avoid any judgement from him.

“what? what are you talking about? where is this coming from?”

“look it’s okay if you don’t, i just would really like to know” you explain to him with shaky hands

“of course I love you, why are you suddenly acting so weird?” he comes closer grabbing your hand in his to try and reassure you.

“then why did you say what you said to me yesterday” eyes starting to tear up at the recollection of the scene.

“I’m sorry what did I say?”

you get up from the bed and scoff. “god you don’t even remember”

“remember what?”

“it’s nothing, nevermind. I’m gonna head out” you say while walking to your closet to grab a change of clothes

“what, to where? can I come?” yeonjun quickly scrambles out of bed to follow you.

“not today jun, i just need some time alone” you say not looking at him in order to keep your composure. it seems like he only cares when push comes to shove. you’re tired of being the only one in the relationship who tries to even spend quality time together. you begin shuffling through your clothes feeling yeonjuns stare at the doorway of your closet. he’s standing in the middle of the frame watching you dumbfounded trying to figure out what he could’ve done. then it clicks. he fucked up. but instead of trying to console you he tries to get you to explain the problem.

“y/n you always do this. please stop being so passive, can you just tell me what I did so we can work through this?” he says frustrated while running his fingers through his hair.

“im tired yeonjun. if you can’t see what you did wrong then i dont know how it can be helped.” you say still shuffling through your clothes, only this time you are mindlessly looking at your shirts with no intention of picking one out.

“y/n stop looking through your clothes look at me, how is our relationship gonna work if we can’t even communicate with each other?” He says getting more irritated

you turn to him, seeing his face making you start to tear up. You look at him wondering where the man you fell in love with is. the guy who would hold your hand while you walked down the stairs so you wouldn’t trip, the guy who would ask you for cuddles after dinner every night, the guy who would send you lunch every week reminding you to eat. now all you feel is a burden to him. someone he has to tend to because he locked himself in a relationship. he’s since stopped his loving actions and you feel like a mere roommate to him. you see him for an hour a day max. endless days you wonder if your relationship was meant to be, if he still feels satisfied by you. hell he could be with anyone he wanted, big hot superstar with millions of fans. but he chose you, why?

you feel your heart rate rising getting more nervous to confront him about your feelings. you’re scared he’s gonna confirm all of your worries. you let out a shaky breath and ask him “yeonjun, are you satisfied in our relationship?”

“y/n is everything ok, why are you asking me this?” he begins to walk closer growing more concerned instead of irritated.

“please just answer the question”

“of course I am, why would I not be?”

“Well m-maybe because you don’t pay attention to me anymore. everytime i get home from work you’re too busy to even give me the time of day. you stopped having breakfast with me. you don’t even look me in the eye when we’re talking sometimes. and you called me clingy yesterday. im sorry if i did something to upset you, but i just wanna spend time with my boyfriend. is that so much to ask?” you didn’t even realize it but you were full on crying at this point. tears streaming down your face at an uncontrollable rate.

you look up at him and he’s looking at the floor with a guilty expression. “well?” you throw your hands up in impatience “do you have anything to say?”

to your surprise he begins to cry as well. “y-y/n im so sorry. fuck i can’t begin to say how sorry I am. i don’t deserve you, I know I’ve been such a shit boyfriend. i-i i don’t even know what to say. please I’ll make it up to you. I’ll start being better now. it’s just that after we went on hiatus my manager told me that the company doesn’t currently have future plans for our group a-and so I guess I really let it get to my head. i don’t what’s wrong with me, baby please forgive me. i promise I’ll do whatever it takes, just please don’t leave me. i love you so much, everyday im so grateful to have you as my girlfriend.” you can hear the panic in his voice. And that only makes you more emotional.

“what? yeonjun, what did you say?” you walk up closer to him, tears still in your eyes. you look up at him to try and get him to look at you.

he makes eye contact with you “what do you mean?”

“why didn’t you tell me? about the company?”

“I don’t know, I guess I was just scared.”

“scared of what?”

“scared that you wouldn’t want to be with me anymore. so I just kinda shut off. i dunno I started to distance myself, telling myself if you broke up with me then it would hurt less.”

“junnie i would never leave you because you’re not an idol anymore. I don’t care if you quit your job right now and became unemployed. that’s not why I fell in love with you, I love you for you, okay?”

he sniffles and tries to wipe away his tears “im sorry, I love you so much, I don’t know where I would be in life without you.”

you pull him in for a hug, feeling the warmth of his touch for the first time in a while. “im sorry too, I should’ve told you about how I felt” you feel him hug you tighter.

“thank you y/n, for telling me about this. im glad we got this off our chest.” he says while rubbing you back and giving a kiss on the forehead.

you hum and smile to him “I missed you so much. i just wanna be in your arms forever”

“come to bed with me” he says breaking your embrace and pulling you to bed.

he lies down with you next to him and pulls the sheets over the two of you, entangling this legs with yours and wrapping his arms around your waist resting his head on your chest. “im never letting go of you”

you giggle at his cute actions and run your hands through his hair. resting the other hand on his arm drawing little shapes on it.

he looks up at your face and smiles “oh and about the clingy thing, please don’t ever stop asking for my attention. i will drop anything for you. i love when you’re clingy”

you smile at him and again and lean down to kiss him “I love your cuddles”

you feel your stomach start to grumble “but can we order some food, im kinda hungry.”

“nope, im not letting you go”

#txt angst #txt x reader #txt fic #txt fanfic #yeonjun #yeonjun angst #yeonjun fic #txt #yeonjun fanfic #Spotify

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leonsmamacita · 7 months

Text

"Drunk on Lust"

a/n: hello! so this is my first ever fic written/posted in public, mostly bc im shy nd i get intimidated a bunch jsjsjjs but! that changes today! anyways i dont wanna make this too long, so tldr; just lmk if i did good nd if there is any suggestions u wanna give, feel free to! idk how tumblr rlly works so sorry if tags/cw is off

word count: 2.1k (yes i do hate myself)

disclaimer: just bc i write it dont mean i condone these actions irl! this is purely for entertainment purposes ONLY; practice safe sex + drink responsibly <3

MDNI; +18 ONLY

cw: a tad of angst, alcohol abuse ( reader is forced to consume alcohol ), mentions of vomit, heavy degrading, mention of breeding, overstimulation, edging, p in v, no comfort/no aftercare, manipulation, mentions of guilt-tripping, BDSM ( temperature play, spanking, sadism ), mentions of lactation, he comes inside, empty sex ( fwb ), no use of y/n; not proof read!

song below is the main inspo for this fic if u are interested to give a listen to!

————————————————————————

"Great, just what I fucking needed."

Waking up with a splitting headache along with a burning migraine from a hangover was a feeling Leon found himself all too familiar with as of late; breath reeks of cheap booze and remnants of whatever he had for dinner. In a daze, he sat up and found himself in more pain than usual. Although only in his prime (around the 30's), his body feels as though it had gone through decades.

Phone now in hand, he checks his inbox and sees an unread message sent by the one person who can take away not only the physical pain, but the emotional kind as well— his own personal carrier for his emotional baggage. A snort leaves his nose as he reads the message; you always aimed to please, telling yourself constantly that you are only doing this to help a friend out. A "friend", how cute. So pretty, so young, and yet so naive.

On his way to your place, he spaces out for a moment or two. He would always find himself in this suffocating mog of black, a place his fucked up brain traps him in against his will. A never ending spiral that he keeps getting swept up in— no matter how many times he tries to regain control, it always ends up out of his hands due to the cruel will of fate. That was, until he met you.

As corny as it was, you were the light at the end of this dark tunnel he trapped himself in. Unhealthy habits; he would do them all, and no one would bat an eye. You were the only one who truly cared, who truly worried— he could not let you go. He looses himself to you each and every time, much more than he does to alcohol. When he admitted this to you, you were more than willing to offer yourself to him in any way he sees fit. It doesn't matter if he was mildly intoxicated or black out drunk, you would always welcome him in with open arms. And open legs.

"Hey, you."

Your voice snapped him out of his daydream. How did he not manage to crash on his way here? Perhaps it was his body usually going on autopilot during those moments. His mind was already wired into what turns to take, what lane to switch to on the highway, and what apartment complex building you reside at. As long as it leads to you.

Not wanting to waste another second, his lips crashed into yours. You already smelled the alcohol, sweat and vomit on him, it was only more intense as you tasted it on your tongue. No matter, you agreed to this anyways. You want this as much as he does— he conditioned you to do so. Fumbling with the leather of his jacket, he slips it off and tosses it to the side, doing the same with your sleep-shirt. Your nipples stiffen at the draft of cold air fanned against your areolas, moaning at how sensitive they grew out to be after Leon forced you to get those piercings.

His gaze falls on the ends of the silver bars, tempted to suck them harshly enough you were sure enough to lactate— even though you couldn't. But, he has to be patient, you had only gotten them three months ago. No worries, he will have his way with your tits soon enough. His rough thumb pads gently trace down the side of your hips to your love handles, holding onto them as he hoists you up into his arms. Sitting you down on the kitchen counter, he nips at your neck as he desperately tugged down your pajama shorts along with your undergarments.

Without hesitation, he opens his flyer to take out his painfully hard cock— the tip crying of pre as he taps it against your clit, sending a jolt of raw pleasure to shoot straight to your core and all throughout your lower abdomen. With his free hand, he takes out his hip flask and looks at you with that familiar glint of lust in his eyes.

"Open up."

A beat too slow passes; before you could register what he is planning to do, he scissors you open with his fingers and shoves the opening of the flask past your lips, forcing you to take him and to drink whatever cheap booze was inside the flask all at once. It was overwhelming, too much, and yet it was creating the perfect storm between you two— enough to make both of you moan at the sensation.

The cold counter meets the flesh of ass, sticking to it just slightly as your slick runs down your thighs and around the girth of his fat, long fingers. Dragging you onto him, using you as if you were a living sex doll; no regards for your pleasure whatsoever. Feeling a bit dazed, possibly from the alcohol he forced you to take, you whimper. It only intensifies at the fat of his calloused fingers kissing the opening of your g-spot, causing that delicious burning sensation you can't get enough of— you were sure you were going to be aching by the time he is done with you, and he is just getting started. Feeling your walls flutter around him, he quickly pulls out, leaving you whining as you clench around nothing.

He coos at you softly, making those empty promises of making you cum— he never lives up to it however. It's not like he can't, he could. But, he likes to be an asshole and rip away the pleasure from you, costing you an explosive orgasm that leaves you crying as the feeling quickly coils back painfully into your core; denying you pleasure is an all-time favorite for Leon, even if he ends up blue-balling himself as well. Makes coming inside you all worth it.

Grabbing the bottle of liquor you took a shot of earlier to hype yourself up before Leon came over, he smirked darkly at you, drinking in every detail of your pathetic self trembling at the denied pleasure. An eerie silence falls between them, before it was interrupted with a loud gasp falling from your lips and a low hum leaving Leon's.

"What, can't handle it? C'mon, you're a big girl," he teased, disregarding your pleas and the crescent-shaped cuts you leave on his biceps as you clawed away at him, trying to get him to pull the cold glass bottle away from your clit. Rubbing the icy glass against your clit some more, he holds the edge of it and pushes the hood that protects it back, exposing your clit some more. "So pretty; you're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Leon then rubs the length of the bottle against your exposed clit, making you writhe against him, pressing your body further back against the cold counter. Either way, you were trapped between his heavy body and the counter, forced to give into the aching pleasure being given to you. You just have to take it.

Finally, he takes the bottle away from your heat, making you sigh in relief— and yet, you were again slightly denied an impending orgasm. Were you seriously going to cum from that? God, Leon was ruining you. Before you could dive deeper into the relief, your lips meet in an open mouth kiss, and you could taste the booze he forces into your mouth. Not wanting to choke, you are forced to swallow the alcohol quickly, already feeling lightheaded. You weren't drunk, not yet at least, but you were at least woozy enough for Leon to hoist you over his shoulder and take you to your bedroom.

You aren't sure when he started rutting against your crying pussy with his fat tip, but nonetheless the sensation makes you arch your back, bringing your chest up against his broad pecs. A snort leaves his mouth at your reaction, making you whine at how mean he is being to you.

"Actin' like a bitch in heat," he blows his hot breath against your ear lobe, leaning in and licking the shell of your ear, making you mewl. "Gonna have to fuck you s'good, it'll make you drunk on my fat dick instead." With that, he splits you open and completely bottoms out deep inside you. Fuck, fuck, fuck, too much. Your mouth agape, that dumbfounded look on your face— it only pushed him to snap his hips against yours, balls slapping against your cheeks, making obscure and downright pornographic sounds echo around the room.

Switching positions, he maintains himself lodged inside you as he flips you on your stomach, putting you in a prone-bone position. Wrapping his arm around your neck, he cuts off your airway just right. The mixture of alcohol and the lack of oxygen makes your head spin, making you have this fucked-out look on your face as Leon continues to ravage your pussy from behind. Low grunts and growls are heard from him; he was close, and you were too.

"Yeah? You like that? Drunk on my booze and on my cock," he laughs at you, mocking you as you can only let out a sinful symphony of moans. "Such a slut, letting me fuck you into your own mattress, fuck," he keeps choking you out, squeezing your neck as your cheek meets his bicep, having no choice but to bite down on the meat of his muscle in order to muffle your moans. "What's the matter? Don't want your neighbors to hear you getting slut out? Letting the perverted alcoholic have his way with you? Is that it?"

His words contained malice and lust, with no respect for you whatsoever. As much as you hated him for talking down on you this way, the way he is battering your insides and plunging deep inside your guts has your body saying otherwise. A sour feeling creeps up on your stomach— either it was the urge to throw up since you were quite literally drunk and being dragged back and forth on some dick, or it was the urge to let go and cum. Either or, it was making you even more dizzy, becoming too much to handle.

"Aw, am I being too mean to you, sweetheart?" Leon said in his snarky, condescending tone, laughing at you as tears streamed down your face, proving this to be too much even for you. And yet, despite this, he continued to fuck you stupid. "Hold on just a lil longer, nngh, fuck, take it," A loud smack is heard as his handprint marked the fat of your ass, and more is heard as he continues to spank and fuck you at a ruthless and unforgiving pace. "Oh fuck, if you keep sucking me in like that, m'gonna have to plug this pretty pussy up full of my cum and give you a baby."

Skin slapping against skin, slick mixing with pre, it all became too much. Letting out one last cry, you come so hard you could've sworn you could see stars as your eyes roll to the back of your head. Leon only laughs at this, slightly wincing at the grip your walls have on him. This doesn't deter him however, as he continues to thrust into you much deeper, balls slapping against your pussy lips as he grinds his hips flush against your ass. Clit chaffing against the bedsheets, he overstimulates you over the edge, causing you to hiccup in between sobs.

Hearing you sob was what pushed him to the peak of his climax; what an asshole, getting off of the idea of making a sweet soul like you who only wanted to help a piece of shit like him cry. His thick and heavy cum floods your womb, holding your hips in a bruising grip as the last ropes of his load spurts inside you, finishing with a guttural moan. Leaving his softening dick inside you, he lightly taps the red and hot flesh of your lower back. "Still with me?"

—

"Jesus, my head.."

You wake up the next day, hungover and sore as shit. You feel as though you got ran over by a tow truck carrying trucks. Lifting the blanket off of your body, you notice the small puddle of slick and cum on your bed sheets, letting out a scoff of annoyance.

Lugging yourself out of bed, you take a quick shower to freshen up and to get started with your day— even though it was nearly three at the afternoon. Your phone in hand, you see a new message in your inbox. It was from Leon.

Leon [10:52 AM]: "You up yet?"

————————————————————————

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy x yn #leon kennedy x yn smvt #leon kennedy vendetta #resident evil vendetta #resident evil fanfiction #leonsmamacita #wrote this mildly intoxicated #Spotify #leon kennedy smut

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mediocre-daydreams · 2 years

Text

one hundred followers extravaganza!

getting into writing again after years and seeing that people enjoy them has been such a beautiful experience (and thank u all so much for the little messages; it always brightens my day).

from now until august 7th, i'll be working on asks/requests!

check out my masterlist for more works!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

🌞 send me up to three prompts and i’ll write a ficlet for the character of your choice!

🌷 send me a character and theme/idea and i’ll make you a moodboard :)

💭 ask me any question about a character and i’ll do my best to respond/write a mini drabble for them

🎶 send me a taylor swift song/lyric and i'll write you a ficlet! i have so many music themed stories planned so i figured i'd get the ball rolling with these mini works

PS:

🧚‍♀️ we hit 200! (this celebration is still going on though!) here's some of my favorite marvel fics

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

rules:

at the moment, i write primarily for marvel ->bucky barnes + peter parker (including tams!)

(and sometimes for the marauders)

but i'm open to writing for other marvel/hp characters!

i feel most comfortable writing with fem! or gn! reader, but i'm 110% comfortable writing wlw/queer relationships if u have any requests >:))

keep in mind i do not write [explicit] smut but if there is something you're *not sure* you should submit, feel free to send it in anyways (but exercise judgement please)! the worst that'll happen is i don't write it

the listed questions/prompts etc are all suggestions for if you don't have something already in mind! i'm open to writing pretty much anything :)

if you want something like enemies to lovers / angst with a happy ending, please lmk! i wanna make sure i get the structure right <3

anonymous req: send 'em in!! love u guys just as much. if u wanna identify urself with an emoji, feel free to!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

tagging a couple followers/mutuals <33

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @bambamwolf87 @monty2000 @gabby913 @ithinkihaveseenthisfilmbefore @itllbefineeeeee @tomhollandsam

#u guys are so sweet #thank u #ily <3

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jenoslutie · 1 year

Text

I posted 771 times in 2022

That's 670 more posts than 2021!

142 posts created (18%)

629 posts reblogged (82%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@wickedangels

@g0thjeno

@haechanitboy

I tagged 368 of my posts in 2022

#jenoslutie - 43 posts

#nabis fic recs! - 41 posts

#jenoslutie asks - 30 posts

#nct smut - 15 posts

#angelwonie <3 - 13 posts

#nct dream smut - 13 posts

#nct - 11 posts

#jeno smut - 10 posts

#jaemin smut - 9 posts

#haechan smut - 9 posts

Longest Tag: 101 characters

#im pretty sure its gonna be jaemin but the member might change depending on how i end up writing this

My Top Posts in 2022:

haechan x fem!reader

genre: fluff, crack & slightly suggestive

warnings: none

Haechan thinks you've been spending far too much time on your phone lately. Having made him 5 different playlists and telling him "this reminds me of you!" when they're songs he'd never listen to but he did give them a listen. Only for you though. Thats not where it ends though.

"Hyuck!" You called from the other room.

"Yeah?"

"Go look at my insta story" He sighed playfully before opening up Instagram and clicking on your story. The first few stories were posts that you reposted and then he landed on the one you intended for him to see. It was a picture of the both of you from yesterday. Lips locked in your first winter kiss of the year. Both of your cheeks rosy as you squished his cheeks with your glove clad hands. The picture was posted with the song Melting by Kali Uchis.

"You got some soft lips and some pearly whites I wanna touch them in the dead of night Your smile ignites just like a candlelight"

Haechan took a quick screenshot of the photo before walking into your bedroom where you sat with a sheepish grin on your face.

"Did you like it?" He scoffed playfully before pulling you in for a kiss.

He was sure he was in love with you.

"Oh hey, by the way, do you know what the first verse of that song says?" You gave him a look to show your confusion but shook your head either way.

"When you're around. my insides turn inverted" You still didn't get where he was getting at even after he sang the lyric with his angelic voice which has sang you to sleep on multiple occasions.

"Let's rearrange your insides" He smirked.

Your smile dropped. "Lee Donghyuck!" he shrieked and ran away from you when he saw you pick up a pillow and get ready to attack him with it.

"I'M SORRY!"

519 notes - Posted November 16, 2022

pairing: jeno x reader

warnings: smut, phone sex, use of toys. i think thats it :) lmk if i missed anything!

wc: 575

jenos at work and you're very well aware that you shouldn't bother him. however you're even more aware of the growing ache between your legs.

jeno has been super busy and has had no time at all for you, working late nights and being too tired to do anything when he gets home.

and you have been miserable.

you've never wanted your boyfriend as bad as you do now. so you decide you're definitely bother him at work.

starting off by scrolling through your photos until you find a video jeno had sent you, jerking off on the same bed you were sat on, his low groans sending shivers down your spine, getting you even more worked up. you reached towards your side table and pulled out your dildo that you used for times jeno wasn't home. slipping it between your soaking wet folds, you rubbed it in between your folds a little before sinking down on the toy, the sound of your dripping wet cunt mixed with jenos groans making your thoughts hazy.

following along to your original plan, you grabbed your phone and quickly opened your camera app, setting your phone low enough to capture where your cunt swallows up the clear glass dildo and pressing record. bouncing on the toy like your life depends on it, reaching a hand down to toy with your clit, adding on to the pleasure, your body shaking with no control as you toppled over the edge, moaning out loudly "d-daddy miss you s-so much" your climax hitting you hard, body shuddering while you rode out your climax before you came to a stop, lifting off the toy which was coated with your juices.

knowing what jeno likes best, you lowered yourself onto the bed, so your face was visible in the camera, taking the dildo in your mouth eagerly, sinking down all the way to the base. the sounds of you gagging filling the room. you made sure to make it extra sloppy, just the way he likes.

when the toy was clean of your juices, you ended the video and sent it to your boyfriend straight away.

not long after, the sound of your phone ringing fills the room, you looked at the caller id and it was none other than your boyfriend.

“hey” you greeted but no reply, only heavy breathing could be heard from his side. “babyyyy?” a smirk forming on your lips, knowing exactly what he’s up to. “you knew i was at work y/n”

he’s right. you did.

but what’s the fun in waiting right?

“but i was so needy and i missed you so much” that’s all it took for him to send a video call request. you accepted and were faced with the sight of jeno with his head thrown back and the sounds of low groans. “such a needy little thing fuck you’re so impatient baby, need to fuck you so bad” he was blabbering any and everything that came to his mind. “missed your cock so much daddy, need to feel you” he gasped softly at your words, nearing his high. “i-i’m gonna fuck you so good when i get home, i promise” he groaned loudly before his high came over him, sending waves of pleasure through him, legs shaking and hips jerking up, riding out his high.

“you could’ve told me before you know?” he chuckled to which you shrugged

“i liked this way better”

See the full post

547 notes - Posted August 18, 2022

you've been getting on haechan's nerves all day today.

on purpose, that is.

so there was no questioning why haechan had you bent over his desk, your panties stuffed in your mouth and your arms behind your back in his hold while he thrusted relentlessly into you.

"you're much more tolerable when you're not running that mouth of yours" he spat. your brain not processing anything he said to you because of the way his cock was kissing your cervix. your body going limp in his hold. "such a dumb little thing"

your noises got louder as you got closer to your high, letting your panties fall out of your mouth "s-so close" you whined, moving your hips to match with his thrusts.

"my baby's close hmm?" haechan cooed softly. nodding desperately, you threw your head back, at the edge of your orgasm when haechan pulled out of you suddenly, leaving you desperately clenching around nothing, looking back at him with teary eyes and he laughs at you..

"you thought you deserve to cum after being a fucking brat all day?"

hey guys <33 i been busy so this was a little rushed but hope you'll like it ! feedback is always appreciated <33

also feel free to send me ideas if you'd like !

721 notes - Posted March 20, 2022

synopsis: gaming was never really your thing but when you invited jaemin to play some game you found, you realize you're better at games than you thought.

pairing: jaemin x fem reader

genre: smut, fluff kinda

warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it !), oral (m receiving), choking, they basically mirror everything in a sex game so yeah, lmk if i missed anything.

word count: 801

a/n: my entry for the @neohub level up event! also this didnt come out the way i wanted it to but enjoy nonetheless, feedback is always appreciated

the sound of jaemin’s ringtone rang throughout his room, interrupting what he likes to call his jaemin time (which is basically just him sitting at his computer and editing photos of his friends). looking down at his phone to see who interrupted his jaemin time. a smile quickly replacing his frown when he saw who the culprit was.

“hey!” his smile grows wider at the sound of your voice.

“whats up?” you take a hesitate a bit before answering

“so.. i found this game and i think it’d be fun if we played it together!” jaemin knows gaming isn't your forte nor are you any bit interested in it. that's why he was thrown off when you invited him over to play some new game you found.

arriving at your apartment, he followed you to your computer and he definitely wasnt ready to see you playing some 3D sex game off of some sketchy website.

"look at the game i found!" flopping down at your desk you began clicking the buttons and creating the character of your choice while jaemin stood behind you with raised eyebrows, watching as you enthusiastically created your character.

"done! do you wanna play?" you looked back at him. "sure" jaemin nodded and sat down where you previously sat. clicking the start button, jaw dropping at the sight in front of him, a male POV and a female character kneeled in front of him with some lewd animations of her giving him a sloppy blowjob.

"this is...interesting?" playing around with the characters as his confused expression turned into a smirk, jaemin shifted in his seat, scooting further back from your desk to give his legs more space, unintentionally giving you space to slip under his desk. "what are you doing?" he looked down at you with raised eyebrows. "nothing, do what you're doing"

jaemin did in fact know what you were up to when you began to slide his sweats down until they pooled at his ankles. "no touching" you gave him a small smile before taking him in your mouth eagerly, taking as much of him as you could, trying to mirror the characters in the game. you could hear jaemin softly groaning above you as you began jerking off the rest of his cock that you couldnt take in your mouth until jaemin’s hands found their way onto your head, pushing your head further down on him, groaning at the sight of you trying not to gag around him.

jaemin's fingers maneuvered from your head to the keyboard, pressing keys until the scene changed to the female character bent over, getting her back blown out by the male POV, pulling you off him, he bent you over your desk, hooking his fingers around the lace of your panties and sliding them down your legs to pool at your ankles. the new angle making it so you were right next to your computer, the game more visible to you now. "baby you're so wet just from sucking me off?" he chuckled softly before aligning his cock to your cunt, sliding in slowly, he was relishing in the sounds of your little gasps, "jaem do it like them please" you whined loudly, tapping your fingers on the screen softly.

jaemin's thrusts already started off relentlessly, rocking your body back and forth with the way his cock was hitting so deep in you. reaching back, you brought his hand that was once resting on your waist, up to wrap lightly around your neck, mirroring the new position on the screen

"s-so close jaem" your moans mixed with jaemins grunts echoed throughout your room. "cum for me baby" he tightened his hands around your neck, adding on to your state of bliss, your vision blurred as your orgasm rippled through you. Jaemin’s hips rutting into you with a merciless rhythm, chasing his high with the determination to make you see stars.

“s’ too much” jaemin chuckled at your overstimulated state, choking on his words as his hips still, eyebrows furrowed as he gave one last thrust before spilling his cum inside you, painting your walls white. pulling out of you as he sat down on your seat again, pulling your panties back up before his cum could leak out of you. you flopped down onto his lap, both of your panting filling the room as you tried to catch your breath.

“guess you’re better at games than you thought” your boyfriend huffed out a chuckle. “you’re not that bad yourself,” you giggled. jaemin pressed a kiss to your head before clicking out of the game.

“maybe we’ll need that for another time” he chuckled, picking you up and bringing you to the bathroom for a shower.

you smirked at him “we’ll need it for our next play date”

See the full post

851 notes - Posted April 30, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

jeno x fem!reader x haechan

(9:10pm)

“Yeah, you like how he’s fucking you?” Haechan whispered in your ear, his hands flat on your thighs keeping them spread for Jeno who was thrusting relentlessly into you. You could only moan in response, lazily nodding your head.

Jeno brings a hand down to rub at your clit, his thrusts not slowing for even a second. You squealed, overwhelmed with the feeling, trying to squirm away from Jeno. Haechan scoffs at you.

"You can take it" He reassures you, caressing your thighs and kneading the skin, keeping your hips pinned down. Jeno breathes out shakily as you squeeze around his tip, letting out a loud groan. If you weren’t already on the edge, you sure were when Haechan leans up and pulls jeno by his hair and kisses him. It's heated, needy, and desperate.

Unable to hold back anymore, you fall apart on Jeno’s cock, arching your back. Jeno’s thrusts are unfaltering. Haechan pulls away from Jeno to focus on you. The only noises you can manage to let out are weak cries.

“Jeno no m-more” He could tell you were close again. Paying no regard to your plea, Jeno continued to pound into you. You reached back, gripping onto Haechan’s hair tightly, earning a small groan from him which was enough to send you over the edge once more. Your legs shook around Jeno’s and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. With Jeno’s high just around the corner, you felt his dick twitch. His eyebrows furrowed as he gave one last thrust before spilling his cum inside you.

Jeno chuckled, pulling out of you and flopping on the side, allowing Haechan to take over. He smirked and laid himself between your thighs, eyes trained on the mixture of yours and Jeno’s cum dripping out of you. Without warning, he dived right into your center, lapping his tongue all around your center, making you squirm away from his tongue, too overstimulated to go again.

“Don’t run from it now baby”

i wrote this a couple months ago it was just in my drafts lol.

not proofread <33 enjoy!

1,617 notes - Posted March 4, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #Spotify

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furuyalover · 18 days

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200 follower event!

— just a lil sum for a huge milestone <3

hey guys! i recently hit 200 followers so i wanted to do something fun to show my appreciation! since i get a lotttt of my inspiration from music i wanted to a semi music related event! read below for the deets !

THE VISION: send in an ask of your desired character/characters (list of fandoms i write for below) with a song of your choice or a random one from one of my playlists and i’ll write up a little drabble/hcs based off the song! all works from this event will be tagged under #mars & her music

— if you choose a certain song feel free to include a specific scenario or wtv in your ask! ex. you & a character slow dancing to [insert whatever song you please] please note that i don’t write nsfw :) you can be as specific as you want & add as much info as possible! also please add your preferred pronouns or else i’ll probably write for a fem reader :)

for all my lovely anons: if you would like, sign your ask with an emoji/nickname so i can ofc remember you & add you to my anon list :)

im only going to do 3 characters max per song, but you can send in as many requests as you want! lmk if you want me to write fluff or stm silly 😋

fandoms: jjk, haikyuu, ace of diamond, saiki k, & one piece (im not that far into the show so pls bare with me)

playlists! below are my various playlists, with a little description of them, and the number of songs! if you want a random song, pick a number 1 through whatever & you’ll get a random song! or feel free to just suggest an artist/album and i can pick a song from that :)

a distant memory i used to know: sort of sad songs (not rlly), kind of somber, but overall just mellow! | 203 songs

take a shot for me: mainly baby keem, drake & sza, but sorta that mellow rap vibe | 84 songs

cruise: very similar to the previous playlist! mainly rnb, includes a lot of the weeknd & brent faiyaz | 334 songs

cutesy: upbeat songs & love songs! | 306 songs

lavender buds: the music i listen to when im high 💀 | 410 songs

444: mainly neo soul i think? idrk the genre, but a lot of erykah badu , thee sacred souls & ms. lauryn hill | 246 songs

the works: basically my liked songs since there are sooo many different songs, artists, & genres in this … | 468 songs

slow dancing: self explanatory. songs i would wanna slow dance to, a lot of 50s-60s music! | 192 songs

orange soda shorty: late night drives playlist <3 | 272 songs

sleepy time: my napping playlist LOL | 205.songs

apologies in advance for my questionable music taste but i can’t wait to see how this goes <3

reblogs appreciated and admired ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

#mars & her music!#fun fun fun!#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #ace of diamond headcanons #ace of diamond x reader #daiya no ace headcanons #jjk headcanons #one piece x reader #saiki k x reader #haikyuu event #diamond no ace event #ace of diamond event #jjk event #jujutsu kaisen event #hq event #one piece event #saiki k event #coaches thoughts!

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onlyseokmins · 5 months

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hiii how do you start a blog??? i reallyyyy wanna post my writing but idk how to start.... like formatting a blog making a pinned doing a layout idk what im doing😭 sorry if this is random for me to ask

Hey there! ❤️ Not too random to ask someone who's constantly setting up new blogs for fun and rarely using them 😭 ✋🏼 now take this all w/ a grain of salt but fr feel free to drop by/share your stories w/ me when you post them and come back if you need more help!!

So let me try to hit the points you addressed!

Formatting a blog:

Definitely have a profile picture! This is your "face" on Tumblr ~

Headers are a ton of fun. You can basically do whatever you want with them - hide, stretch, use your profile picture, or create something of your own (I would not suggest taking someone's gif or something they created unless you have permission 🙏) If you want something fancy, feel free to ask someone (but check their guidelines first ofc)

I would suggest enabling a custom theme under your blog settings if you want to format the web browser/desktop version of your blog (https://[url].tumblr.com is different from the "dashboard/mobile" view found on https://tumblr.com/[url]). This can only be done in the web browser/desktop version of blog settings (and can be important for your description later)

^ Confusing, I know! If you have more questions lmk, it's sort of not necessary but it's fun for me to customize 😂

You can find lots of tumblr themes to customize from the tumblr store or if you'd like you can get codes here too.

Making a pinned:

You can make any post a pinned post but only one can be pinned at a time.

Cheat: I have a habit of editing old posts that have 0 notes and/or one of my first posts and using it as I like 💀

Pinned posts can obviously contain whatever you want! Songs, funny quote, or a more detailed intro post - and can be changed any time!

Layout of your blog:

This is where creativity comes in lol! Try not to copy someone else if you can, totally cool if you're inspired but I've def seen a lot of people mimic others and it's just 😔

For example, ig you could say my layout/theme is based off a "streamer" concept lol. Some people keep it simple, some people just do whatever. Good news is you can always change it at your preference!

Honestly it doesn't matter how simple or fancy it is, I think as long as it's easy to navigate, you can do whatever.

Things I suggest to have somewhere on your blog:

Masterlist: a list of links to all your stories

Guidelines: don't be afraid to refer people to these!!

Intro: can be basic but be sure to tell a bit about yourself so ppl can interact with you

^ these can be linked in your description (code example below) and/or a pinned post

Tag navigation: (optional) much better than tumblr's featured tags option imho but if you use a specific tag for certain content/posts, make use of that!

Okay so tumblr is a hellsite but it has a TON of features and things you can do with it if you want. You do need to know some html coding but thankfully it's pretty straightforward and there are a lot of resources out there. I think html is still only editable on web browser/desktop version of tumblr. So you're best bet is to hit the edit theme button below (back to what we talked abt before 😂)

I'm horrible at tutorials btw. And helping people 💀 but fr I love setting up blogs so pls feel free to hmu more! I'm looking forward to another writer in the community! ❤️

#Hope that helps a bit (?) 😭#Best of luck!#Nonny 🎭#ez.inbox

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astudyinfreewill · 3 years

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look what you made me do || 1/?

aka: me making taylor swift songs about dean winchester and/or deancas bc it’s what dean himself would want

(i will be keeping track of these with a masterpost, just in case i need to find them again or someone enjoys seeing me go hogwild on lyric analysis, lol. also, there’s a wee treat at the end of the post!)

and without further ado, our first tswift x dean song is...

the archer

combat, i'm ready for combat i say i don't want that, but what if i do?

we start off with an extremely obvious line: dean winchester is always ready for combat - he’s been trained all his life to essentially be a soldier/vigilante figure, an ultimate warrior of sorts. the thing is... he doesn’t want to. when dean is left to his own devices, without his father to order him around or a Big Bad to spur him on, what he chooses to do is is cook for his loved ones, have movie nights with them, play music, tinker with parts to build something new. at his core dean is kind, and full of care for others, and his deepest fear is that he truly IS nothing more than just a killer or a weapon - hence the ‘but what if i do’.

'cause cruelty wins in the movies i've got a hundred thrown out speeches i almost said to you

‘the movies’ here is just shorthand for everything he’s witnessed happening around him in real life. as far as dean’s experience goes, cruelty does win. why believe in softness and kindness when your father has taught you that either of those things is a weakness, and the world simply doesn’t care?

as for the second line, well. you can guess what THAT’s about. dean feels so deeply, but really struggles to verbalise his feelings, often brushing them off until he explodes. we usually see him at his most vulnerable while praying to cas, but even then, you get the sense that he’s holding back on so much. (“cas, i need to say something--” “you don’t need to say it, dean.” so it goes, so it goes.)

easy they come, easy they go i jump from the train, i ride off alone i never grew up, it's getting so old help me hold onto you

a few points here: “i jump from the train” could easily be a callback to dean’s impulsive self-sacrificing ways, and “i never grew up” underlines how he never got the chance to evolve and grow into himself because he got essentially stuck in the “child parenting another child” role. sure, he had to be a mother and a father to sam, so in some ways he grew up really fast; in others, he was stuck as an insecure teenager, because he never got the opportunity for healthy emotional growth himself.

and of course, “easy they come, easy they go” is a tragically accurate representation of dean’s most devastating insecurity: that everyone he loves eventually leaves him. mary died, john was constantly absent, cassie broke up with him when he tried to tell her the truth, sam left him behind for college, and then, of course, there’s cas... who just. keeps. leaving, one way or another, and dean just desperately wants him to stay - which also ties into “help me hold on to you”. the irony of it all, of course, is that dean wants castiel to choose not to leave, whereas castiel desperately wants to be asked to stay; and ain’t that just a fucking tragedy.

i've been the archer, i've been the prey who could ever leave me, darling? (but who could stay?)

the first line is pretty self-explanatory: dean has been both aggressor and victim, both literally and emotionally. he’s a fearsome hunter who gets hunted down by monsters in turn; and he’s lashed out and pushed people away, while getting his heart broken in return too.

but it’s the second part that really strikes me as a dean line, because the first half - “who could ever leave me, darling?” - is the bravado that dean wears like a mask. charming smile, a flirty wink, swagger in like you own the place, “i think i’m adorable”, “i’m a joy to be around”, etc. but the second part... that’s the whisper of truth behind it. for all that dean can turn the charm on and put on a brave face, he’s thoroughly convinced that he’s not worth sticking around for.

dark side, i search for your dark side but what if I'm alright, right, right, right here?

so, can you say trust issues? remember how long it took for dean to believe an angel could be on his side, and then how deeply he came to trust cas? and remember how heartbroken he was when castiel betrayed them in s6, and how that heartbreak was covered up with anger when cas came back? yet, no matter how many twists and turns they go through, inevitably, dean ends up trusting cas with his life - he’s not only the definition of a ride-or-die, but he also trusts him in smaller, more intimate ways, such as letting down his guard and allowing himself to be vulnerable only around him, or praying to him for comfort as much as guidance.

and i cut off my nose just to spite my face then hate my reflection for years and years

...but because of those trust issues, and because of dean’s deeply entrenched abandonment issues as mentioned above, often dean ends up reacting to things more harshly than is needed, by lashing out in anger and pushing people away (or, in more than one occasion, through the infamous silent treatment). but we also know he immediately regrets it, because it ends up hurting him just as much, if not more. basically this correlates to his speech from 15x09 about his anger issues.

i wake in the night, i pace like a ghost the room is on fire, invisible smoke and all of my heroes died all alone help me hold onto you

there’s also the fact that having attachments as a hunter isn’t exactly safe, and comes with a shitton of fear of losing people - or remorse and regret when you do lose them. “the room is on fire, invisible smoke” - i can only imagine dean would still have nightmares of that fateful night when he was 4 years old and his mother burned alive on a ceiling (and so: “i wake in the night, i pace like a ghost). as for his heroes dying alone... mary. john. ellen. jo. ash. kevin. charlie. the list stretches way too long. it’s only natural he’d be afraid of losing cas too... especially since he’s already died multiple times, and dean has mourned him more and more devastatingly each time.

i've been the archer, i've been the prey screaming “who could ever leave me, darling”-- but who could stay?

the same concept as the previous chorus, except that here the façade of confidence and swagger comes off almost as desperate (screaming “who could ever leave me”). but then we know overcompensating is kinda dean’s thing.

'cause they see right through me, they see right through me they see right through me -- can you see right through me? they see right through me, they see right through me i see right through me, i see right through me

and we circle back to dean’s constant fear of being found worthless, damaged, and unlovable. no matter how much bravado he puts on, his actual self-worth is close to non-existent, so of course he’d feel like a fraud, and it makes sense he’d fear other people seeing through his act, or wonder if they do - can cas see right through him? because dean himself certainly isn’t buying his own lies.

all the king's horses, all the king's men couldn't put me together again 'cause all of my enemies started out friends help me hold onto you

the first line just... hurts me a lot. i guess it’s the nursery rhyme sound of it, almost trying to take the bite of a statement which is, essentially: i’m broken beyond repair. as i said above, dean’s not buying his own lies, he knows exactly how much baggage and trauma he carries. and not to go back to the trust issues again, but it is hard to believe someone could see past that when there’s so much betrayal in your history (which, yes, has included cas at one point too, as well as sam, or, say, fucking chuck).

i've been the archer, i've been the prey who could ever leave me, darling? (but who could stay?) who could stay? who could stay? you could stay, you could stay...

and then... we have the third repeat of the chorus, which echoes the first, softer version of it, but with a fundamental difference. this time, the rhetorical question “who could stay?” finds a pointed answer in “you could stay”. because yes, maybe cas leaves a lot, but he always, always comes back. so i’d imagine dean harbours hope that one day, maybe, cas will want to actually... stay for good.

combat, i'm ready for combat

and that hope kinda gives this final line a whole new lovely layer of meaning: dean’s no longer ready for combat just because he’s been trained for combat all his life; rather, he’s ready for combat because for once in his life, he has something to look forward to; something to fight for: the happy ending he deserves, where someone - perhaps someone in a dirty trenchcoat and tired blue eyes - will finally stay.

---

BONUS: literally the day after i started obsessing over this song as a dean song, i found a fanvid of it! if that’s not serendipitous, i don’t know what is <3

#spn #dean winchester #castiel #destiel #taylor swift #meta #mp #long post for ts #uuh how else to tag this #tswift x dean winchester #??? that sounds like a ship #anyway. i know there's been some interest in this so hopefully it doesn't disappoint #and if you wanna be tagged in these/suggest songs lmk!!!#lwymmd

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creme-delacreme · 2 years

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Ok what about both you and Jack having a crush on each other and neither of them realize. You always fake flirt with Urban and Druski from time to time and jack gets hella jealous .. side note imagine druski just roasting y’all having crushes on each other lol

I’m on it👩🏽‍💻

“You can’t keep using us to make Jack jealous forever.” Druski states. Y/n sighs and takes a sip of her drink. “Yeah but I can try.” Urban snorts at her statement.

“I don’t see why you just won’t tell him. He obviously feels the same. Every time you pull this charade, literal steam exits his ears.” This time Y/n laughs. “If that was the case, he wouldn’t bring NDAs to the club anymore.” She complains. She looks around the room before stopping at Jack.

He was already staring at her. Who wouldn’t. The satin lilac dress hugged her body perfectly. And the white tie up heels sealed the deal along with her fresh braids and nails she recently had done.

Their eyes meet cause Y/n to turn a bit red. “The way you two could literally be married by now. Make a move or we will.” Druski demands. Y/n rolls her eyes. “What do I do?” She asks, not knowing how to handle the situation. “I say go up, ask him if he wants to take a shot, then pull him to the dance floor.” Urban suggested. The girl shrugs.

“I swear if this backfires, you both owe me.” She says chugging her drink. The boys cheer her on as she makes her way towards Jack. “Hey.” She starts. He smiles down at her, making her more nervous. “Wanna um.. wanna go get a drink with.. me? Unless you’re busy which in that case I’ll just go back over-”

“I would love to get a drink with you.” He says, stopping her rambling. She smiles and grabs his hand, pulling him out of their section. He interlocks their fingers, wishing she doesn’t let go.

‘Holy shit. Maybe they’re right.’ She thinks as they approach the bar. Y/n steps to the side to make room for Jack but he pulls her back in front of them and snakes his arms around her waist as they flag down a bartender. She turns to face him as the bartender prepares their order. “What?” He questions with a smirk.

“Nothin’. Just admiring like you were earlier.” She states feeling bold as the chugged alcohol kicks in. He chuckles. “Couldn’t help it. You’re wearing my favorite color. Looks good on you. Really good.” He admits slightly blushing. She notices and smiles. “Is the Jack Harlow blushing? Never thought I’d see this. I don’t have to sign an NDA right?” She giggles. He laughs and licks his lips.

“Nah you’re all good mama. I like it when fine women make me blush.” He states as their drinks arrive. They take their shots and soon Jack pulls them to the dance floor. Y/n gets excited as he pulls her hips against him. She gets lost in the music and grinds into him, letting go of the nerves.

When the song ends, they gave each other once again. “Really got some moves there. You sure Urban and Druski won’t mind?” He questions, raising a brow. “Why would they?” “Well every time we go out, all three of you are glued at the hip.” He stated.

“You jealous Mr. Harlow?” She teases, playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. He pulls her close. “Mm not jealous. Maybe territorial. But not jealous.” He says leaning in slightly. Y/n tilts her head slightly. “I’d have to belong to you for you to feel that way.”

“Okay. So let me take you out. I’ve had a crush on you for a while and I want to show the world that you’re mine.” He admits. “Oh really?”

“Really.” He says just before their lips meet.

note: kinda did my thing w this one and lmk if you wanna join the tag list!!!

tags: @lcandothisallday @singledadjack @jackharlowsmainsweetie @twtasjack

#jack harlow #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow concepts

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folkloreguk · 3 years

Text

French Class [6]

A/N: You guys might want to whack out your love song playlist for this one…I cried writing this BYE I'm posting this from my grave!!

genre: optional bias (m) x reader (f), fwb, f2l?, college!au, fuckboy!bias, nerd!reader, ANGST, smut

words: ~ 3.8 k

✽series masterlist✽

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added!): @lovely-ateez, @runaway-fics, @mainexiii, @awfullytiredbuthealing, @erikyoong, @etherealuv, @staysuki, @justcuz-ican, @yeostars, @hyuckthangs, @teenloves, @mexious18-blog, @sunghoonied, @mailobjaeyoon

couldn’t tag: @chorizoek

You: can I come over? I kind of need u

H/N: you need me huh…you’re lucky I’m home alone

It always starts differently. Some other question, or a subtle message of telling him you’re bored, or a flat-out confession of being horny. The ending is always the same. You, naked in his bed. You just had to get there, and things were easy when you were already on his dorm’s doorstep.

The moment he had opened the door, you had fistfuls of his hair between your fingers and attacked his mouth in a feverish kiss. He made a noise between a laugh and surprise but reacted quickly. His lips parted right away, letting you in, and you tasted mint from the chewing gum he liked so much.

“Let me- at least- close the door,” he mumbled. “Jeez, what’s gotten into you today?”

You stepped aside and mirrored his grin. He was acting surprised, but the way he instantly locked your lips after he had shut the door told you he was enjoying this as much as you were. You ran your hands down his torso and along the side of his thighs. His happy hum only poured oil into the fire, and you saw no reason as to why you should have kept your clothes on any longer. In minutes, in the middle of heated kisses and clumsy chuckles, your clothes were discarded, and you were left in your underwear. You stumbled into his bedroom in a tangle of arms and legs and heads barely pulling apart.

“Will you tell me about the date you had today or are we skipping over that part?” he asked, as he pushed you down by the shoulders onto his bed. You groaned a little, not even knowing where to start.

“Didn’t go well, huh?” he asked. Only a few nights ago you had consoled him after his failed date, now the roles were reversed.

“That’s one way to put it,” you said. He was climbing on top of you now, and the weight of him between your thighs still did the same things to you it had done the first time. There was one of his random playlists playing quietly from the speakers, but you were both too occupied to even consider switching the music off. You weren’t in the mood for a chat, not when he was biting and sucking bruises into your chest, pushing aside your bra just enough. But you knew he wasn’t going to let it go this easily.

“Tell me about it or I won’t take one more piece of clothing off your body,” he threatened. You shot him an are-you-serious-look while he only blinked at you innocently, like he was awaiting your response.

“Fine,” you groaned. “But hurry, now.”

“That’s my girl,” he said, before unclasping your bra and throwing it to the other side of the room. “Go ahead, I expect a story.”

You had rolled your eyes at him, but when he sucked on your nipple all of a sudden, and his tongue flicked over the sensitive bud ever so perfectly, your eyes moved to the back of your head involuntarily. And, before he could complain, you started to retell today’s events.

“Alright. First of all, he acted all gentleman-y. Pulling back my chair at the restaurant, letting me have a look at the menu first, letting me order first, asking me if I was okay with our seats because they were in the sunshine, or whether he should have requested we get a different in the shade table, blah, blah, blah.”

With the lewd noises he was making, kissing your chest and fumbling with your breasts, you almost wondered whether he was paying attention to you at all.

“I’m waiting for the plot twist,” he chuckled. “If he had been this great, you wouldn’t be in my bed right now, would you?” He was now on his way to your lower regions. Your breaths came out shaky when he gripped your hips with familiar fingertips and placed a few kisses there, right above the material of your underwear. Nonetheless, you had to continue your story.

“Oh, it’s coming,” you said. “Because I suspect, the only reason he was acting that way was to compensate. For the fact that he was an hour late.”

He stifled a laugh, and you slapped his head playfully. “It’s not funny! I stood outside that restaurant on a busy street like an idiot for an hour. During exam season!”

“I wonder, if studying is so special to you- ,” he said. He tugged on your underwear, and you barely cared about his words when you were already imagining his mouth on your pussy. “Why aren’t you at home right now, doing just that?”

“Too frustrated,” you groaned, spreading your legs, practically inviting him in. “You don’t get it. That was only the beginning of the date. It gets worse.”

“Oh, damn,” he laughed, and you were going to slap him again. Harder, this time. But his tongue kitten-licked over your clit and you didn’t dare interrupt him further.

“First of all, he turned out to be boring. An economics major. And look, I’m not generalizing, I’ve met some cool economics majors. But when I said I never really understood the whole thing with inflation and deflation, I wasn’t asking for him to explain it to me. I know what it means, I just meant to say money is the root of all evil,” you said, little moans slipping inbetween your sentences. He laughed whilst sipping on your clit. You couldn’t be mad at his laughing anymore. In fact, at the sound of his chuckles, your own lips curled into a smile, too. God, he was so good with his tongue.

“But turns out he loved money. Like it was the sole reason he was doing anything. When he showed me his gold watch I almost yawned,” you continued.

“Dating a rich guy can have its upsides too, though,” he said, but you knew he was joking. He was running the tips of his fingers over your core, and you whimpered at how badly you wanted him to put them inside of you. You loved watching him, loved feeling his hair tickle the side of your thighs and having his free hand laying on top of your hipbone. The familiarity of it all, his little habits, made your heart heavy, so full of emotion, all of a sudden. But you had to snap out of it.

“Not this guy. He kept saying these lowkey sexist things I won’t repeat now. It’ll only make me mad again. He was one of those who thought money would buy him a girlfriend. And I was really trying to see the good in him…only there was none,” you said.

“Alright, I’m starting to understand why you needed some cheering up,” he said. “Good thing you’re at the right place. I know just the thing.”

At this, he slid his digits into you. You hummed and dropped your head into the plush pillow. Slowly, you exhaled, happy you finally got to relax after being so upset. But of course, he had to interrupt. Again.

“Did I say you could stop? Was that the end of the story?” he said. How did he expect you to form a coherent sentence? He fingered you gently, but the slowness of it all only drove you crazier. You felt every tiny sensation, every new bit of you he touched.

“No,” you sulked. “Fuck, it feels so good.”

“Go on, then,” he encouraged you, grinning because he was proud of your reaction he had caused.

“Fuck- okay. He was super shitty to the waiter. I’m talking about criticizing everything. This man had the audacity to complain about the food. I’m not a food critic, but I swear the food was amazing, there was nothing to fault at all,” you said, and then whined when he switched from licking your clit to sucking it between his teeth. You knew he was doing this on purpose. To make speaking harder for you.

“Oh my god, H/N. Wait, let me finish this. Not only was he horrible to the waiter in person, but he also made fun of the waiter’s appearance behind his back. And all along he expected me to find him funny. I used to think he had a sense of humor but not after today. Blech.”

“At least you got a free dinner?” he said, and without awaiting your answer, went back to work. Your head was spinning in pleasure, and you could only laugh sarcastically at his suggestion.

“Yeah. And after that train wreck of a date, he really thought he’d get to stick his tongue down my throat,” you said.

“Did he at least ask permission?” asked the boy between your legs.

“Mhm…but I told him I don’t do that on the first date,” you said. “Safe to say there won’t be another date, though.”

He looked up now, laughing more than before. You grinned, mainly because the sight of him was so cute. He folded his hands on your belly and put his face down onto your skin to giggle. In no way could you be upset or urge him to keep giving you head. In fact, you had forgotten about all of that for a while, as he seemed to enjoy your misfortune a little too wildly. You should have been hungry, eager to have the half-naked boy inside of you. Yet, you laughed at the way his breaths tickled your stomach and when he finally made eye contact, it was a wholly different sort of hunger which overcame you. Instead of the heat he usually made you feel, it was a comfortable warmth that was in your chest. It reminded you of a bonfire or of drinking your favorite hot drink on a cool autumn day.

“I want to watch you come,” he said, casually. “Were you close?”

You were so lost in his trustworthy, dreamy eyes, you almost forgot to reply. Quickly, you nodded and hummed.

“I would have already come, had you not pestered me to tell you all the details of my date,” you said. The way his cheeks beamed when he smiled made you feel as if your insides were turning into mush.

“I’m sorry. I’m your friend, aren’t I allowed to ask how your day went?” he asked.

“Of course you are,” you said. The word ‘friend’ echoed off every wall in your head until you wished you could have deleted it from the dictionary.

“I’ll make sure it feels extra good now,” he said, kissing your stomach. You shivered as you watched his gentle lips move lower, to your hips and the insides of your thighs. The touch felt like butterfly wings on your skin, and the tardiness of it made you impatient. When his tongue came in contact with your clit again, you sucked in a breath of surprise.

He tried to start slowly, but then you gripped his hair tightly, and carefully pushed him further. It was something you did often, a way to tell him you wanted more without having to use words. After all this time, he understood perfectly. Your clit was between his lips and his tongue flicked over the sensitive bundle of nerves with just the right amount of pleasure. It felt incredible, creating a funny sensation in the pit of your stomach. His fingers grazed over your slit until you were whimpering and shifting your hips, trying to make him hurry.

One of his digits slid into you easily, curling against your sweet spot, and it hit you only now how much you had missed him between your legs since he had stopped a few minutes ago. It made you feel as though you were suddenly overwhelmed with all of him, but you were willing to let the heat crash over you if it meant you could be close to him.

“Am I making it up to you now?” he asked as he pulled away merely for a breath. “I’ll turn your day into a good one after all.”

In a different tone his words would have sounded like the exact thing one would have expected to hear from a fuckboy in the bedroom. He could have boasted and bragged endlessly about how great he was with his tongue and fingers – he would have been right – but he didn’t mean it like that. You could tell from the uprightness and the authenticity in his voice that he really was doing his best because he wanted to make you feel better and turn your day around. Because you were special to him. Or so you desperately hoped.

Your legs wrapped around his shoulders as if you were trapping him between your thighs. But he was right there, and he would gladly stay for so much longer, and to say it puzzled you was an understatement. The boy who belonged to everybody, who was known by all of the campus, was treating you like you were royalty, and not the other way around. You moaned, his name inevitably falling from your lips. He added another finger and the slightest stretch made you lose your mind for a split second.

“That guy could have never made you feel this good, could he?” he suddenly asked. Your initial response was a helpless whine. You had been so close, and his talking had interrupted the otherworldly bliss for a moment.

“No, never,” you then whimpered shortly. ‘No’ was such a tiny word. It could barely encapsule what you truly meant to say. Which was that it would have never even gotten that far. That other guys couldn’t even have you at all. They didn’t get their turn to try and beat him. Not as of lately, at least. That you didn’t so much as dare to think about sleeping with other guys. That even before you had gone on the date, you had known it wouldn’t lead to anything. No guy could let you develop an interest on him in the same way the boy between your legs had done it. No other would be able to kidnap your brain like that. H/N was always there. Even when it was only you and your sex toys, you would automatically pretend it was him getting you off. You were so far gone that it was embarrassing how long it had taken you to admit it to yourself. But it was a colossal thing to confess to him, and you would never do that. Rejection would hurt a billion times more than whatever it was you two had now.

Your heart was racing as you closed your eyes. You had been so lost in thought, it was wondrous you hadn’t fallen yet. But you were right on the edge, making your breaths come out like puffs and a string of moans and swears sound from your lips. He too had stopped talking, concentrating on the task at hand, and judging by the way your back arched he was doing one hell of a good job.

“Oh my god- “ you whimpered. “I’m so close, H/N.”

This time he didn’t reply, which was for the best. Only a few seconds passed until you started to quiver and whine beneath him. You were going to outer space behind your eyelids as your high rushed through you. Your fingers curled and tightened in his locks while your legs clenched around his head. He was quick to pull your thighs apart again, still not being finished. For long seconds you swam in pleasure, with nothing on your mind but bursting stars. He was heaven, knowing precisely how far he could take it until you were too sensitive to take any more.

When you were at that point, he finally pulled away and looked up at your crumpled form. There was a lazy smile playing in the corner of your lips and your vision was hazy after having had your eyes closed for a while. He climbed up your body until his chest was against yours so he could really look at you.

“I get all of this without ever having been on a single date with you? I’m so lucky,” he said. You only smiled at him, at a loss for words. What were you to say? The two of you were clearly past the awkward dating stage already.

“I’m lucky you let me come over all the time,” you said. “I would have expected the campus fuckboy to be busier. To not have an empty spot in his bed every night.”

“Ah, shut up,” he said. “I’d rather have you here than a girl I don’t know at all. Look, I’m really tired so I don’t know how this will go…but can I?” He was on his knees, a tent visible in his boxers. With a questioning look, he was tugging them down his legs now.

“Of course,” you said. As you watched him roll on a condom, your ears perked up. Did that song have to come on shuffle just now? The coziest, most romantic love song you adored so much? You knew if you looked him in the eyes you’d be done for. But there wasn’t anywhere else to look when he settled between your legs and held up his weight with his forearms. His eyes were deep enough for you to get lost within a second. Distracting yourself was impossible. The one last thing you could do was to reach between the two of you and guide his length into you.

The song’s chorus came on, you looked at him once again, and suddenly you were all his. You didn’t need to tell him so. He thrust gently, almost carefully, like he had never done it with you. Your heart hammered against your ribcage so vivaciously, you wondered whether it had turned autonomous and was now trying to jump out of your body, onto his skin and through it, so it could nestle next to his own heart.

Neither of you spoke. Yet, there had never been so much chemistry, such a heavy amount of uncommunicated emotions between the two of you. You were ready to hang on his every word, should he decide to speak up. In your head rampaged a billion sentiments you needed him to know, but there was no option to express them adequately. Perhaps there were simply no words in the English language to declare your feelings for him.

Small whimpers and moans left your lips only for him to hear. Sometimes he moved a little quicker, gifting you with the most perfect sounds he could make. And to know you were the cause for it sent you into overdrive. His mouth was right above yours. If you lifted your head slightly, you could have kissed his sweet, sweet lips. But you were so afraid. What would he think? You had never kissed him during sex. Not softly, like you wanted it so terribly.

Even worse, you craved so much more than that. You wanted to pull him in, envelope his mouth in your own, crawl over the edge of his lips and reside in his chest for safety. Because that’s what he was. Comfort. Reassurance. Home. How foolish you had been, pretending this little fling would lead to nothing more. You really had told yourself this would work. No feelings. Just fun. You couldn’t deny having fun with him. He was the best company you had ever known, and he had become your most precious friend quickly. It was as if you had only been waiting for the silly, flirty boy to sit across from you in the library and make weak advances towards you.

The love song tuned out slowly, replaced by something more sensual and sinful. In accordance with the new background noise, he gripped your hips a little meaner and went faster. You barely noticed how his breathing had sped up as he was getting closer to his orgasm. A trance had overcome you, transfixing you on his godlike features and how much it hurt to know you couldn’t call him yours. In your head you were made for each other. They always said to date your best friend, didn’t they? You could try to turn back time, go back to your first meeting place, at the party. See if things would turn out different. But you knew they wouldn’t. As much as your fear tried to suppress it – you would take the same path again, stumbling head-first into his arms and letting him into your life like a crashing wave of laughter and heart-crushing conversations.

Now you reflected in despair, how he had taken your heart in a storm, without having to try too hard. And worst of all, you were okay with it. Your heart was secure with him, you thought. The feelings yearned to be spoken out loud, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“You feel so good,” he said. “Always, so fucking good.”

He snapped his hips against yours, burying his cock deep inside of you and all you could muster was a hum of agreement. This is what you got for keeping him at arms-length from the beginning. Wasn’t it you who had challenged him to be friends and only that? Perhaps you would be okay, so long as no one else called him theirs either. You could go on like this, letting him use you for sexual relief and making him laugh when he needed it. Gladly, you would take the pain of not being allowed to love him with your whole being if it meant you could see him whenever you wanted. Exposing those silly emotions would wreck your friendship and you wouldn’t let it happen.

He grunted and only then, when he lowered his head into the crook of your neck and moaned your name, you realized he was reaching his high. Softly, you cradled his head in your hands, as if it was the last time you could hold him like this. When he put his forehead against yours, he had his eyes closed and his chest was moving steadier than before.

“You’re the best,” he whispered. “Stay the night?”

Should you have gone home, and missed him all night? Would you have regretted saying no while you curled up in bed with no Cheshire-cat-grin-boy to hold? Or were you to remain in his bed, and pray you would survive the torture of not speaking your mind? His skin radiated the most wonderful warmth and you wanted to trace his lips with your eyes until you fell asleep. That’s how quickly it was decided.

“Okay,” you answered.

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