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goldengalore · 21 days

Text

Ready

An anxious!reader fic.

Summary: Harry wants kids. Y/N isn’t sure what she wants. Feeling pressured to make up her mind, she agrees to something she’s not ready for.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: angst, smut

A/N: Hello! It’s been a while. This fic is based on this ask I received forever ago. Enjoy :)

***

Y/N has always been on the fence about having kids.

As a young teenager, she assumed she would have them when she grew up, fell in love, and got married. Social norms, along with her own childish naivete, made her believe that this was the only path one could take in life. Having children was the next logical step to marriage, which was the next logical step to falling in love.

And then she matured and realized that life is not nearly as cut-and-dry, that having kids is a choice, not a necessity, and that she can absolutely go her whole life without having any if that’s what she wants. This realization came as a relief but also felt somewhat unnerving because how is she supposed to know what she wants? She is quite possibly the most indecisive person on the planet, so it’s no surprise that she has bounced back and forth between wanting and not wanting children throughout her entire adult life.

On one hand, she thinks of her friends who have kids and how their lives have become utterly consumed by the little humans that require their constant care and attention. There is just so much that Y/N wants to experience and achieve before settling into a life like that.

Not to mention the horrors of pregnancy. It’s not exactly a walk in the park, having to carry a human life inside of you for nine months and then give birth to it. The health complications, the irreversible bodily changes, the sheer, agonizing pain of childbirth.

And yet, on some days, she fantasizes about becoming a mother, of holding a tiny life in her arms and nurturing it into a full-grown adult. An important character in these fantasies has always been the sweet, thoughtful, loving partner by her side who takes equal responsibility for their child. This person was always a faceless individual—an idealistic depiction of the kind of partner Y/N hoped to find someday.

And then Harry came along.

Sweet, thoughtful, loving Harry who, unlike her, was always sure of his desire to have kids. For him, it was never a question of whether he wanted them but a question of when.

That moment finally arrived for him a year ago. But Y/N wasn’t sure if she felt ready yet.

“What are you afraid of?” he asked her one day. “I don’t mean that in a judgemental way. Bringing a child into this world is scary for anyone, including myself. I’m just curious to know what your specific concerns are.”

“Well, there’s the usual stuff, like whether or not I’ll be a good mother—”

“You’ll be a phenomenal mother.”

She smiled at him, then continued, “Or whether my kids will be able to have a good future with so much chaos in the world...” She trailed off hesitantly.

“But there’s something else,” he said, gently urging her to share what was really holding her back.

“I… I’ve always been terrified of the idea of having to raise a child alone, either because something bad happens to the father or he leaves out of the blue or we break up and I’m left to take care of this child by myself. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I… I’ve never been able to shake this fear.”

“Doesn’t sound ridiculous to me. I was raised by a single mother, so I know it’s not an easy job.” He reached for her hand and kissed her knuckle, never breaking eye contact. “But I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. You know that, right? We’re in this together. We’re a team, always.”

She nodded. “I know.”

“Well, I’m alright with waiting until you feel ready. I want us both to feel ready before we jump into this.”

In the six months following that conversation, the topic would crop up several more times, like after Harry saw her interacting with his godchildren at a party or they walked past a cute baby in a stroller at the grocery store. Y/N didn’t mind discussing the topic. It gave her a chance to ponder and become more comfortable with the concept of motherhood.

Yesterday, Harry returned home from a month-long movie shoot in Sweden. Y/N surprised him by showing up at the airport. What he doesn’t know is that she has another surprise in store for him.

While he was in Sweden, she decided to go off her birth control and now wants to try for kids.

She plans on telling him later tonight once they get home from their friend’s birthday party. They’ve been all over each other tonight. That’s what being apart for a month does to them. Hell, even a week apart is enough to turn them into a couple of horny teenagers that can’t keep their hands off each other.

“You look so hot in that dress,” Harry whispers in her ear, half-joking because they both know this is his fifth time saying that tonight.

Emboldened by a couple glasses of wine, a tipsy Y/N whispers back, “I want you to put a baby in me.”

His eyes widen. He chuckles. “That wine bringing out your wild side?”

“I’m serious,” she states, glancing around to double check that no one is within earshot of their conversation. “I went off my birth control a month ago, after you left for Sweden.”

He stares at her blankly, like her words haven’t quite sunk in.

“H, I’m ready to do this.”

“Really?”

She smiles. “Yes.”

“We’re doing this,” he says as it finally sinks in. He kisses her wine-stained lips. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?”

“Yes, please.”

Y/N can hardly keep her composure on the way home. Harry appears to be in the same boat, as he keeps sneaking glances at her while driving, his hand caressing her thigh. While he’s always been a responsible driver, she can sense the impatience in his maneuvers tonight.

Once they’re home, it’s almost a race to the bedroom. Harry gently pushes her onto the bed and climbs on top of her.

“Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to watch you walk around in this dress tonight”—he runs a hand down her front—“and not be able to bend you over and just slip my cock into you?”

She moans as he cups her pussy through her dress with a firm hand. He lets her grind against it for a minute before pulling away to take off his clothes. She follows suit.

Soon, they’re back on the bed, sharing another series of ardent kisses. By the time he goes down on her, she’s already dripping wet and he licks it up as if he hasn’t had a drop of water in days. Her hips grind against his tongue like they did against his hand just a moment ago. It doesn’t take her long to orgasm.

He shifts up the bed to hover over her body. He kisses her again while lining up his cock with her entrance. As he slides into her, she feels a slight discomfort from being stretched open for the first time in a month. He pulls out and pushes in a little deeper each time to let her adjust until he fills her up completely and she’s too immersed in pleasure to have a single coherent thought anymore.

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he says, starting to pump in and out. “Gonna come inside you, yeah? Gonna come deep inside your tight little cunt and fill you up, put a baby in you. Is that what you want?”

Those words flip a switch in Y/N’s mind. She makes an involuntary noise that makes it seem like she’s agreeing with him, so he picks up his pace. Just as he finishes inside her, the terrible realization dawns: She is not ready to have a baby. Not at all.

“I love you,” Harry whispers in her ear, his body resting flush against hers as he comes down from his high.

Tears spring to Y/N’s eyes as she realizes what she’s done, what they’ve just done. When she doesn’t reciprocate his statement, he lifts his head to look at her. A tear escapes her left eye at that exact moment.

Concern furrows his brow. “Lovie? Hey, what’s wrong?”

She just shakes her head while staring at the ceiling.

“Y/N.” He caresses her cheek, urging her to look at him. “What’s the matter? Are you hurt? Did I go too—”

“We shouldn’t have done this. It was a mistake,” she says in a trembling voice.

“What are you talking about?”

She tries to sit up. Harry moves out of her way.

“I’m not ready, H. I’m not ready to have a baby.”

His face falls. “I— But— Then why did you say you were ready?”

“I don’t know… To make you happy?” She covers her face and hears him sigh heavily.

“Y/N, you can’t— You can’t lie about things like that just to make me happy. It’s not like we were deciding what to have for dinner. We’re talking about having a baby, for Christ’s sake.”

“I know that. Of course I know that. But I just— I see the disappointment in your face every time we talk about this, every time I tell you I’m not ready. You seem so sad, Harry. I hate it.”

“Well, I’m sorry I’m not able to hide my emotions as well as I thought I could. That still doesn’t mean you should lie to please me. I thought we were past foolish antics like this.”

She squints at him. “Foolish antics?”

He sighs again. “I didn’t mean it like—”

She turns away from him and gets off the bed.

“Y/N.”

She shuts herself in the bathroom. For a brief moment, a part of her resents him. Resents him for being ready to have kids before she was. For bringing it up so often. For making her feel as though she needed to lie about being ready just to make him happy.

But now, as she stares at her teary-eyed reflection in the mirror, she knows she has to take responsibility. She is the one who led him to believe that she was ready when deep down, she knew she wasn’t. He never once pressured her to make up her mind or acted like he loved her any less for not wanting kids yet. He never made her feel any type of way about it. He has done nothing but be the supportive, understanding partner he’s always been. It was her who doubted that. She let her own paranoia get to her.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Y/N? Can I come in?”

A few moments later, he knocks again.

“Please, lovie? I’m getting worried.”

Finally, she opens the door. He takes in her red, puffy eyes and tentatively places his arms around her, only pulling her in when she steps into his embrace.

They stand there silently until he says, “Why don’t we head over to the pharmacy and get you a morning after pill?”

She agrees, so they get dressed and head out. The ride to the pharmacy is a quiet one. Every time she glances at Harry, his eyes are focused on the road, both hands gripping the steering wheel, and he appears deep in thought. It’s the complete opposite of their ride home from the party, when he could hardly keep his hands or his eyes off her. She tries to think of ways to break the silence, but nothing feels appropriate. The last time she felt so awkward and unsure about what to say around Harry was when they first started going out and she was terrified of saying the wrong thing.

When they get back from the pharmacy, she swallows down the pill with some water and they head back to bed.

***

Y/N: Hey H, you on your way home? Hope you’re hungry, I made your favourite for dinner 😊

H: I have a business dinner tonight. Mentioned it this morning

Y/N: Oh! Sorry I forgot about that. I’ll save some in the fridge for you for tomorrow

H: Sure, thanks

Y/N stares at the message. She can’t tell if she’s reading into things or if Harry’s replies really are as dry and aloof as they sound. Her propensity to overanalyze everything makes it difficult to know. Ever since the incident in the bedroom a few days ago, it feels as though Harry has been avoiding her. Spending long days at the studio, coming home late at night when he knows she’ll be asleep, giving short replies, taking longer to text back. They haven’t had sex again since then either.

After scrutinizing their text conversation for twenty minutes, she comes to her senses and realizes that she can’t keep going on like this. It’s driving her crazy. What she needs to do is talk to him. But he’ll most likely be tired when he gets home.

At first, she thinks she’ll sit him down tomorrow morning and talk it out. But when he walks through the front door just after eleven o’clock that night, she can’t help herself.

She stands in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a cup of tea, when he enters. The dark circles under his eyes are noticeable. He has been willing to sacrifice his sleep just to avoid being around her any longer than he has to. Her chest constricts.

“Hey,” he says, placing his phone and keys on the counter. “You’re still up.”

“Can’t sleep.” She stares down into her half-empty mug, the remainder of the tea quickly growing cold.

“How come?”

“I can’t stop thinking.”

“About…?”

She swallows the lump in her throat and looks up at him. “About whether or not you’re upset with me and how I can fix it.”

He frowns. “Why would I be upset with you?”

“Because of what happened a few nights ago.”

His frown dissolves into something different—sympathy? Guilt?

“Y/N, I’m not upset with you about that.”

“Are you sure? Because it seems like it. You’re gone before I’m even awake and you come home when I’m going to bed. We’ve barely talked or kissed or cuddled in the past few days. I know you haven’t been that busy since you got back from Sweden, so… I don’t really see any other explanation.”

He stares at her wordlessly for a long time before speaking. “You’re right. I have been avoiding you. But it’s not because I’m upset with you. It’s because I’m upset with myself. I feel like I pressured you into doing something you obviously weren’t comfortable with. I never saw myself as someone who pressures people into doing things they don’t want to do. So, I suppose I’ve been feeling some shame and guilt about it… and then avoiding you because it’s hard to face these feelings.”

Y/N sets her tea on the counter. She never could’ve guessed that Harry felt this way. She was so convinced that he was mad at her, it didn’t even occur to her that he might just be feeling guilty about it all. After how long she has known him, it should have been obvious that the latter is more consistent with his character, but her anxious brain wouldn’t even let her consider that possibility. She walks over and wraps her arms around him.

“H, I had no idea you felt that way.”

He squeezes her tightly, resting his chin on her head. She turns her head to the side so that her cheek is against his chest.

“To be honest, there were times I felt pressured when the topic of kids came up,” she says. “But a lot of that pressure was created by my own fears and insecurities. I just hated disappointing you over and over. I was scared your feelings about me, about us, would change if I kept saying I wasn’t ready.”

“This hasn’t changed how I feel about you or us. Y/N, I want you more than I want kids. Way more. If you decided one day that you don’t want them at all, that still wouldn’t change how I feel about you.”

She pulls back to look at him. “Are you sure? That’s a dealbreaker for a lot of people.”

“Well, not for me. Not when it comes to you. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Suddenly, he lifts her up onto the counter and stands between her legs.

“So. What did you get up to today?” he asks, planting a kiss to her collarbone.

She rests her hands on his chest. “Hmm, what did I get up to? I hardly remember anything other than obsessing over this whole situation.” She laughs.

“Aw, lovie, I’m sorry I had you all stressed out.”

“It’s okay.”

“Maybe I can make it up to you. Help you relieve all that stress.” He peppers kisses along the side of her neck and jaw.

She sighs softly and closes her eyes. “I would like that.”

***

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tojiswhore-nanamisslut · 2 months

Text

Can I Show You?

pairing: Toji x Reader

warnings: vaginal sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, Toji calls reader "good girl"

synopsis: Toji wants to show you how much he loves you in the only way he knows how.

word count: 5.5k i went off lmfao

a/n: This was so hard for me to write because I felt like the sex scenes were just so empty. I've been going back and forth with this fic for a month and I'm just gonna post it bc fuck it. Also I love Toji dearly and I really wanted to write something that showed a softer side to him.

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You're reading Megumi a bedtime story when you hear the front door open and close.

“Papa!!” The little boy exclaimed excitedly. He quickly jumps out of his covers and slides off the bed backwards, his legs not quite long enough to reach the ground yet. He was only 3 after all.

You smile warmly at your son's enthusiasm and can't help your own giddiness at your husband coming home.

You close the book and follow Megumi's path out to the front room.

“Hey son,” Toji picks Megumi up in his arms, “did you take care of Mama while I was gone?” Toji asks, glancing over at where your body was resting against the wall.

“Yes!! I always take care of Mama!” Megumi replied.

“Good, I'm glad.” At that Toji walked over to you, a small smile on his face as he bent down to give you a quick kiss on the lips.

You looked up at him, “Welcome home. We missed you.”

His eyes softened as he looked between you and Megumi, “I missed you guys too. I'm happy to be home.”

Normally, Toji was home in time for dinner, but since the holidays were coming up he'd been picking up extra shifts to afford gifts.

“We were in the middle of reading a bedtime story if you'd like to join?” You ask.

Before Toji could reply Megumi was bouncing excitedly in his arms, “Yeah!! Want Papa too!”

Toji smiles, “All right.”

Once Megumi is settled back in bed with the both of you sitting on either side of him, you begin to read. As you do, Toji can’t help but to take it all in. A wife. A son. A job. A home. He doesn't know how he got so lucky.

He looks over at you as you read, his loving wife, with a soul so pure he felt like he tainted it just by being near you. What did you see in him? How could you love someone like him?

He looks down at the little boy tucked under his blankets. His son, who has your eyes and kindness. How could something so perfect be half of him? He didn’t think he was good for anything but ending lives, but here sat a life that he helped create. His blessing.

Looking between you both, Toji felt like he didn't deserve either of you. He never imagined in a million years that he would have this. A normal life. Not with the way he used to live. And he especially never thought he'd be a father. With how shitty his upbringing was he was afraid he would fuck up whatever kid he had. But with your guidance, and a lot of self-help books, you were both making it work. He would do anything for this family. It was his only one, as far as he was concerned.

After you finished the book you both gave Megumi a kiss goodnight and retreated to your own room.

As soon as the door closed, Toji's hands were on you, gently cupping your face. You gazed into his green eyes and in them you saw nothing but adoration and devotion. He's come such a long way since you first met him.

“Do you know how much I love you?” He asks.

You giggle, “Yes, you love me a lot. You say it all the time.”

At that he rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes, “I love you more than that. I don't...I don't know how to convey how much I love you.” Toji didn’t know love until he met you. All he knew was abuse and hatred and resentment. How could he properly express how much love he felt for your family and what you've built? He could tell you he loves you every hour of every day for the rest of your lives and it wouldn’t be enough. You and Megumi meant everything to him. He doesn't know what he would do, who he would be, without the two of you.

His eyes open again and your heart aches at how desperate he looks. “The both of you mean everything to me. Everything.”

You can feel how hard he's trying to get his feelings across to you, pleading with his eyes for you to understand.

You respond by gently placing your hand over the one he has on your cheek, and placing your other hand directly over his heart, “I know, Toji. I know. We both know and we love you too. So very much.”

You both gaze into each other's eyes for a second longer and you hope he believes you. He's never felt worthy of your love. You knew about his past, he didn't hide it from you, but he changed his ways. For you. He started working on himself and got a regular 9-5 working on HVAC systems. He puts his entire self into your little family, or at least as much as he can. You can tell he's still hesitant about being a father. Like he's afraid he'll break Megumi. But you believe in him.

“What did I do to deserve you.” He says and starts planting kisses all along your face.

You giggle at his affection, “I could be asking myself that about you.”

He stops kissing you for a second and looks at you, “I definitely got the better end of the deal here sweetheart let's not kid ourselves.” And he goes back to kissing your jawline and down your neck.

“You make me happy and feel loved. I couldn't ask for anything more.” The end of your sentence comes out breathy as Toji starts nibbling at a certain spot above your collarbone.

“Can I show you? Please, can I show you how much I love you?” He murmurs against your neck.

You nod. You know Toji has a hard time expressing himself with words, but his feelings are always evident in his actions. He likes to surprise you with flowers on random days of the week, with your favorite breakfast in bed on the weekend, with a foot rub or a back massage when you’re sore. But most telling of all is how much he’s changed. He went from being closed off and dangerous to a hard-working family man. It took a lot of work, but he met you at every step of the way in trying to better himself. You know him showing his love for you in this way is as much for you as it is for him. He needs you to know how he feels and this is one of the ways he knows how to do it.

With one last kiss to your forehead, Toji picks you up effortlessly and lays you gently on the bed, hovering over you as he brushes his lips against yours, looking into your eyes. This close you could see just how green they were. A dark green, like a dense forest lit up only by the light of a full moon.

He planted a light kiss on your lips, not breaking eye contact, “I love you, y/n.”

“I love you too, Toji”

He finally broke eye contact as he trailed light kisses down your jaw and to your neck and then across your collarbones and back up the other side of your neck and jaw. He was slow and thorough with his kisses, like he had all the time in the world.

You closed your eyes to focus on the way his full lips felt on your sensitive skin. He hadn’t even really touched you yet but you were already feeling hot. Something about how slow and deliberate he was being was getting you worked up.

His lips were on yours once again, moving against them slowly. You felt his tongue lightly trace your bottom lip and you opened your mouth wider for him. His tongue in your mouth immediately found your own and circled it before licking the roof of your mouth and inside of your cheeks.

Your hands found their way into his hair, holding him to you as he continued to move his lips against yours. You couldn’t help the light moans that were escaping you, you wanted more, and you could tell he wanted more too by the way he looked at you after disconnecting your lips to breathe. His pupils were wide and his breath was warm against your swollen lips.

He stroked your rosy cheek with one hand before pressing one last kiss to your lips and then hooking his arm behind your back, pulling you into a sitting position.

He grabbed your shirt by the bottom hem and pulled it over you, followed by unhooking your bra and throwing them both to the side.

He looked at your bare torso, your nipples beginning to harden from the sudden cold, “Beautiful. You’re so beautiful.”

You couldn’t help but blush.

“Lay back down for me.” He whispered to you and grabbed your hand and held your back in his other one, guiding you back down.

When you were situated he got to work on removing your leggings and panties, leaving you naked.

He laid down next to you and kissed you softly, hand cupping your face, but then slowly running down the length of your body, his featherlight touch making you shiver. He passed his hand over your sternum, then down your stomach before angling towards your hip and then rubbing down your thigh towards your knee before retracing his steps up the other side of your body. He was avoiding your erogenous zones which was starting to drive you crazy. You wanted him to touch you goddamn it. You could already feel the wetness gathering between your thighs as his languid movements made your pussy pulse.

“Toji I ne-”

“Shh, sweetheart, I’ll get there.” He whispered, cutting you off with a thick finger to your lips.

Despite his words, though, he did finally give you some relief. He moved down so he could take one of your pebbled nipples into his mouth while his hand played with the other one.

His tongue licked circles over your areolas, occasionally flicking your nipple. He moved to the other one to repeat the process. Each flick and roll of his tongue sent sparks of pleasure running through you. Toji was a master with his tongue and knew exactly what to do to make you feel good.

You ran your fingers through his hair as he continued to suck and lick and massage your breasts, squeezing your thighs together to get the stimulation you were desperate for.

You let out a breathy sigh, holding his head close to your chest, enjoying the feel of his lips sucking on your nipple. He finally paused to look up at your relaxed face, “You’re beautiful.” He said as he caressed your cheek.

You smiled and he leaned forward to kiss your lips again. As they moved against you, his hand once again traced down your body, but instead of deviating at your navel, it traced straight down to your mound. At the feeling of his hand trailing lower you opened your legs for him, eager for his touch to soothe the ache you felt.

His middle finger traveled right over your clit, causing you to moan lightly, until it rested right at your entrance, with his ring and and index fingers right next to it on your pussy lips.

He let out a sigh upon feeling how wet you were, his cock aching against his pants. But he wouldn’t give in to his own pleasure. Not yet. He needed to show you how he worshiped the ground you walked on. How he would do anything for you, no matter what it cost him.

Looking at you through half-lidded eyes he gently pushed his finger into you, making you arch your back and moan.

Finally you thought.

His lips continued moving against yours as he started to move his finger, pumping it slowly in and out. You sighed against him, his thick finger giving you some relief but also making you want more. As if he could read your mind, he added another finger, scissoring them inside of you.

“Ohhh” You moaned, arching your back again. The extra friction you felt from his added finger was just what you needed.

Toji broke away from your lips and moved back down to your breasts, hooking his fingers inside of you at the same time he took a nipple into his mouth.

“Fuck” You let out a breathless sigh, burying your hands in his hair.

He moved his fingers faster, hitting that sweet spot each time he pushed his fingers in. A squelching sound filled the room as his fingers easily slipped in and out of you and he sighed against your nipples. Your pussy was drenching his fingers, he needed to taste you.

He gave your nipple one last suck before kissing his way down your body until his head rested between your legs.

He saw how wet you were, the puddle forming under you as you squirmed and moaned from his ministrations. He bent his head down and breathed in your scent, letting out a low groan. What a perfect pussy, he thought. So wet and so beautiful and all his. His cock twitched at the thought of sliding into you, but he had a ways to go before he allowed himself to find any pleasure. He needed to make sure you understood how much he loved you first.

With that he removed his fingers, sucking on them to taste you before peppering kisses on the inside of your thighs, causing you to whine and thrust your hips up.

“Toji stop teasing me.” you said breathlessly.

He looked at you through half-lidded, lust-filled eyes, “Anything for you.”

And then his eyes fell back onto your dripping cunt before he dragged the tip of his tongue from the bottom of your entrance all the way to the top, licking up the wetness overflowing from you.

“Haaaaah” you gave out a breathy sigh, relishing in the delicate touch of his tongue.

He licked the length of your entrance a few more times before he moved up slightly to lick your clit.The light circles he was making had you stuttering.

You once again put your hands in his hair, trying to hold him in place so you could grind your clit on his tongue.

He let you, holding his tongue out flat and against you, giving you the stimulation you desired.

“Oh Toji” you moaned as you moved your hips on his tongue.

But before you could get carried away he closed his mouth, wrapping his arms around your thighs and holding you still so you couldn’t move anymore. You were about to complain until his lips latched around your clit and he started sucking, causing you to gasp.

He alternated sucking and licking, making you moan loudly, “Oh Toji it feels so good.”

He detached from your clit, “I know sweetheart, yer moans sound so good.” His voice was thick with desire.

He moved back down to your entrance, licking up the mixture of his saliva and your juices that were staining the bed. But this time, he kept rubbing your clit with his thumb while he prodded you with his tongue. The feel of his soft tongue against your folds had you moving your hips, desperate for more. He obliged, sticking his tongue in you and licking your walls.

You moaned loudly, “Oh babyy, oh Toji, fuck.” You were gasping at how good it felt. His tongue started thrusting in and out of you as he continued rubbing circles on your clit. His lips were pushed up against yours, trying to get his tongue as deep into you as he could. You tasted salty and sweet. It was a taste he could never get tired of.

You could feel that familiar sensation building up in you and you arched your back, gasping and moaning, pulling his hair. He moaned in response, feeling your walls begin to tighten around his tongue and doing his best to maintain his rhythm with how much you were squirming. He tucked your thighs further against him to stabilize you.

The lewd noises of his moans and the wet sound of his tongue lapping into and against you pushed you further to the edge.

“Toji, oh, oh Toji I’m gonna cum I’m gonna-”

You got cut off by your own release. Waves of pleasure wracked your body, causing you to buck your hips up in time with each one.

Toji continued working you through your orgasm, never once disconnecting his lips or thumb, and moaning as his tongue was coated in your orgasm.

When it was finally over you were laying there, limp and breathing hard with a layer of sweat on you.

He finally looked up from your cunt, his chin and lips shimmering with your essence and then he licked his tongue around his mouth, all while keeping eye contact with you. You couldn’t help but blush.

“Did you like that? Yer pussy tastes so good I could eat it every day for every meal and never get tired of it.”

You giggled, “I mean you already try almost every day so I don’t doubt if you didn’t have work that you would try for multiple times a day.”

Seeing your smile made a small one paint his own face. He kissed his way back up your body and as he came to be parallel to you, you slid your hand down to feel the thick bulge in his pants.

He groaned at your touch, closing his eyes and putting his forehead on yours.

After a second he gently grabbed your wrist and brought it to his mouth, lightly kissing from your wrist to the crook of your elbow, leaning over you to kiss up further to your shoulder and then your neck, sucking gently on the spot above your clavicle that caused you to tilt your head and moan.

Your hand traveled up to hold his head as he sucked and nipped at your neck, your other hand traveling up his shirt to feel his muscled torso. His boner was pushed up against your thigh and you wanted to touch him. To give him some relief. So you trailed your hand back down his stomach, going for the waistband of his jeans before he once again grabbed your wrist and brought it to his lips, mimicking what he had just done to your other side.

“Toji, I wanna touch you.” You pouted.

He pulled his face back to look at you, “I know sweetheart, but I want this to be about you right now. I want to focus everything I have on you. You come first. Always.” The deeper meaning behind his words was not lost on you, and your eyes softened, bringing your hand up to caress his cheek as your eyes landed on the scar on his lips.

You trailed your fingers over his lips to trace it. You knew Toji endured a lot of trauma as a child. The fact that, despite it all, he could be so loving and tender, was amazing.

You looked back into his vulnerable green eyes, “I love you. So much.”

His brows furrowed every so slightly, “I love you too, y/n. More than I could ever explain or even show you... But I’m trying.” And he looks at you with those pleading eyes again.

You hold his cheek and lean in to kiss him, your lips moving to the harmony of your love. It’s slow and familiar. These lips have danced together a thousand times but still manage to leave you both breathless and lightheaded. Trying to convey with motion what you can’t with words.

You break briefly, both panting against each other, and you’re once again squeezing your thighs together for stimulation. You wanted to feel him in you, to feel his body on yours as he moved with you.

You look at him, “Toji.” And he can see what you want in your eyes. What you need. So he pulls back from you, allowing you to unbutton and unzip his pants as he takes off his shirt. He then helps you pull his pants off along with his boxers. His thick length springs out and your mouth waters. How badly you wanted to taste him, his tip coated in precum. But before you can bend your head down towards him, he’s pushing you back so he can hover over you, caging you in with his hardened, muscled arms. Your hair spread out on the pillow under you.

You can feel his dick resting on your mound, and then he starts moving back and forth, the friction making you moan.

“I love you.” he says again, and you run your hands along his arms and torso before wrapping them around his neck, pulling him close to you as you simultaneously wrap your legs around his hips, “I know Toji. Now show me.”

His eyes widen slightly, and then he’s slowly pushing his tip into your entrance, causing you both to moan into each other.

He takes it slow so you can get used to him, pushing just a little bit in at a time, each extra inch going in causing you both to moan, until he’s finally bottomed out, both of you breathing hard.

He plants kisses all over your face, keeping himself still so you can adjust to him. He stretches you out in the best way. You feel so full, like you couldn’t possibly take any more.

He plants one more kiss on your lips before he slowly pulls out and thrust back in. You can’t help the loud groan that escapes you. This is what you’ve been wanting. His dick is so perfectly suited to hit you in all the right places and the way he moves his hips is divine.

He does it again. And again and again until he’s built up a rhythm. In and out in and out. Slow but deep. A familiar squelching sound filling the air every time he pushes back into you.

“Oh god Toji, oh fuck.” You moan as he continues his tender assault.

“Yes sweetheart I know,” he breathes, “I know I know it’s so good.”

And he bends his head down to suck on your nipples again while one of his arms slips under your hips to angle you up slightly, allowing him to go deeper and hit that perfect spot that has you panting. His slow, long strokes allow you to feel every vein on his cock as they rub against your gummy walls. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure through you.

You look down to watch his hips connect with yours, and when he pulls out you can see your slick glistening on his shaft. The hard muscles of his body tensing each time he pushes back in.

He lets go of your nipple as he sees you watching, “Do I make you feel good?” he asks, moving to suck on your neck.

“Yes” you moan in response.

“Good” he gives a shaky breath, kissing up your neck to connect back with your lips, “I love you” he says against them, thrusting in again and grunting.

You can barely gasp out an ‘i love you too’ as you feel your high approaching. The way he’s making love to you, he’s telling you he loves you with his lips and his hips in unison. He’s going so slow but every stroke hits you in just the right spot and you can feel your body tensing. The slow build up coiling to an almost painful tension.

“Oh, oh, mmmm Toji i’m, oh i’m gonna cum again Toji.” You cry.

He keeps thrusting languidly into you, “Cum for me baby girl. Let me feel you.” He says, watching your face. He wants to see exactly how you look when you cum for him.

At his words your body is wracked with its second orgrasm of the night. His thrusts slow down to an almost full stop as your pussy clamps down on him and he groans, doing his best to keep his own orgasm at bay.

You rock your hips up into him as your orgasm passes through you, nails biting into his back. You can’t help how loudly you moan, the tension finally releasing from your core and spilling all over him. You hold him tightly to you as you ride the waves of pleasure and milk his cock, crying out his name over and over the whole time.

He has to bury his face in your neck so he can focus on not cumming but the way you’re moaning his name and spasming on his cock is testing his ability.

When you’ve finally settled down, he pulls back from the crook of your neck to look at your fucked out face, “I love you.” he says as he plants a kiss on your cheek. But before you can respond he’s moving inside of you again, causing you to groan because you’re still feeling the lingering pleasure from your last orgasm.

“I love you.” he says as his pace picks up again. Except he goes a bit harder this time and he bends your knees to your chest, putting you in a mating press. You let out a lewd moan at the new angle. He’s going in so deep you can feel his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust.

“You’re so beautiful y/n. I love you so much. So fucking much.” he whispers in his ear as he fucks you harder. You can hear his balls slapping against your ass, adding another sound to the symphony you were both creating.

“Oh fuck Toji” you whine.

“I know, baby. You take me so well. So goddamn well.” He grunts in your ear. You can barely focus your eyes, your mouth perpetually open as your breath is pushed out of you with each deep thrust. He’s bottoming out each time, using his body weight to keep your knees to your chest while his arms are on either side of you to hold himself up. Your cunt feels so full. There isn’t a single spot inside of you that his dick isn’t touching. That combined with his balls slapping against your ass have you panting again, the pleasure once again building in your core.

“Fuck Toji. Fuck, f-fuck.” you pant out as your finger nails dig into his back, trying to deal with the intense sensations and the rapid tightening as you climb towards another orgasm.

Toji hovers over you, hips rutting against yours and watches your tits bounce with each firm thrust. You were a sight to behold. Such a beautiful woman and all his. All his to love and adore.

“Cum for me again, y/n. Let me feel you again.” He breathes, moving to suck on your neck. After a few more deep thrusts you’re quickly cumming on him once more. Body tensing but unable to properly release the tension because of the position, causing you to just feel the full brunt of your orgasm. You start screaming his name when his lips find yours, swallowing your pleasure while your body convulses under him and he does his best to fuck you through it, moaning deeply into your mouth. Your pussy spasms around his dick, tightening and causing him to groan. The pleasure is blinding, you don’t feel anything except your orgasm as you body shakes and your pussy gushes and pulses around him. It takes a minute for you to finally come back to your senses and you realize Toji had released your legs and stopped moving inside you.

“Did you cum?” You slur, breathless and fucked out.

He looks at you, panting and pupils blown, “No. You told me to show you how much I love you. You think my love amounts to only a few orgasms?” And at that he lifts you up so you’re straddling his lap, dick never leaving you.

You put your arms around his neck to stabilize yourself as he starts moving once again.

“Tojiiii.” you whine, starting to feel overstimulated.

“I know you have one more in you sweetheart.” He says as he takes one of your arms from around his neck and kisses and licks at your wrist. You groan because it does feel good but fuck you’re so spent already.

“Don’t worry,” He puts your arm back over his shoulder, “Let me do everything.” And he grabs your hips in his big hands and lifts you off of him before bringing you back down. The angle with which he brings you back down causes your clit to rub against him and you moan at the spark of pleasure it ignites. Maybe you did have another one in you.

“That’s my girl. Let me make you feel good, let me show you what you mean to me.”

You moan at his words and lean against him, arms loosely wrapped around his neck as he fucks you onto him over and over, rubbing your clit against him each time.

The new position isn’t as deep as the last one but the stimulation to your clit is making up for it. Your breathing is erratic and you let out quiet curses as the pleasure builds inside you.

Toji moans in your neck, feeling your tits dancing against his chest with each thrust and the fat of your ass jiggling under his hands. He won't be able to hold out this time and picks up the pace, pulling you down onto him harder and faster.

Both of you start moaning louder as you get closer to your final release.

You’re like a ragdoll hanging against him, all you can do is moan as you begin to feel that tightness again.

“Toji...Toji...” you moan weakly. His pace picks up even more as does his breathing, and your clit is getting even more friction now. Your body starts tensing and Toji’s moaning against your shoulder.

“Come on, y/n. One more. Mmm, y/n let me give you one more.” He grunts out. Trying to hold back.

He moves you a few more times, sucking on that spot above your clavicle that you like and it leads to your undoing. You cling to him as you cry out, pussy spasming around his dick as you climax. The tightness along with your screams of pleasure and your body wrapped around him cause Toji to reach his high as well.

He’s thrusting into you once, twice, three more times, cumming into you as deep as he can, whispering “I love you I love you I love you” through his whole orgasm, crushing your body against his as he holds you tight.

You both stay like that for a little bit, just holding each other and breathing hard.

Toji catches his breath first, kissing your shoulder, “You okay?”

You couldn’t help but giggle, this man just fucked you senseless in the most tender way. You were more than okay. “Yeah.”

He pulled back, “What’s funny?” He asks with a small smile on his face.

You look into his green eyes, “Nothing. I just love you.”

His eyes soften, “I love you too, y/n. So much.” And he kisses the inside of your arm that’s still resting on his shoulder.

Toji starts leaning back to lay down on the bed, holding you close to his chest as he does. You lay there on him, listening to the sound of his heartbeat while he strokes your back.

“Thank you.” Toji says quietly.

“Huh?” You sit up slightly to look at him. You weren’t sure if you heard him correctly.

He clears his throat, “thank you” he says a little more firmly.

You sit up more now so you can look into his face, “Why are you thanking me?”

His hand continues to lightly stroke your back, “I wouldn’t have any of this if it wasn’t for you. This job, this home, Megumi...Everything that makes me happy is because of you.” He looks directly into your eyes as he says it, and you see how much he truly believes it. You wish Toji thought better of himself. You wish he could understand how much he meant to your family. That he could understand and see just how much Megumi and you loved him. You were thinking about how to get through to him when an idea crossed your mind.

You ran your hands up his chest and to his cheek, moving forward to kiss his scar, causing his soft cock to finally fall out of you.

“I know you love me, Toji. And I know you love Megumi and our family and everything we’ve built together. It wasn’t all me though. You’ve grown into a man I’m proud to call my husband and become a father that Megumi adores. We love you, Toji. I love you...” You trail off briefly before meeting his eyes again, “Can I show you how much I do?” You ask, leaning forward to pepper kisses along his jaw.

His eyes widened at your implication and he laughed, pulling you back to look at you, “How did I get so lucky?” And his lips were on yours again, dancing to the next song.

#toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fics #jjk smut #toji smut #toji fushiguro x you #toji x you #fushiguro toji x reader #toji x reader smut #my writing #soft!toji #soft!toji fics #soft!toji x reader

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qierxing · 7 months

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A/N: An interpreted continuation of @shiny-jr wonderful fic. (checks calendar) Uhm, happy three month update to this series AND 1k notes on the first part! I would say sorry for the wait, but I really did need it LOL. Anyway, it's not super obvious, but the timeline is a bit all over the place in this part, because I'm jumping back and forth between past and present.

TW/CW: Immolation, violence, implied stalking+actual stalking, obsessive behavior, mild psychological and body horror, toxic relationships, Yuu uses it/its pronouns, we get a little meta in here, the boys are FIGHTINGGG I. II. | Isekai AU | Yan! Heartslabyul x Reader

“Who are you?” said the Caterpillar.

This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, “I—I hardly know, Sir, just at present—at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.”

“What do you mean by that?” said the Caterpillar, sternly. “Explain yourself!”

“I ca’n’t explain myself, I’m afraid, Sir,” said Alice, “because I am not myself, you see.”

— Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Caroll

vi. Mourning

It is incredibly hard to get Yuu alone.

Whether it be by the forces of fate or just because so many vie for their attention, there is rarely, if ever, any time when someone is able to spend time personally alongside them. The only exception to this rule is Grim, who was practically the player's companion from the beginning.

So when Ace Trappola manages a rare chance to snag some one on one time with Yuu, he guns for it. Course, he had to time it perfectly.

It was just another night like any other. Ace and Deuce decided to come over to hang out for a casual sleepover as usual. The four of them did initially start out studying, before the textbooks and worksheets were being abandoned in favor of more exciting things, such as the deck of cards that Ace brought with him.

Sending Deuce and Grim off to get snacks through a won bet over a card game was easy as pie.

"Hey Ace?"

He hums in response, letting Yuu know he's listening. His nimble fingers shuffle the worn cards, flipping through them with practiced ease. Stacking them up quickly, he wonders if he should try to impress Yuu with another card trick to gain their enthralled praise.

"Do you…like…being my friend?"

The question makes him blink and look up in surprise at Yuu. It feels blasphemous to hear such doubt lingering in their words.

"Why? Scared I'm gonna ditch ya?" He teases.

Yuu doesn't respond, only giving a sheepish smile back.

"I-It's not like I don't like being friends with you." He tries to keep his cool. "I just-"

Yuu's smile doesn't falter. "It's okay, Ace."

He's reminded of his previous girlfriend in middle school. It was more of a fling than a serious thing, but it's something he remembers vividly. Their breakup, after all, was rather dramatic.

"You're too much, Ace. Sometimes you just take it too far."

What was even her name? Elizabeth? He could barely even remember, but for some reason, he still recalls the intense way her face was twisted in burning resentment. He tried to bury it in the past. He swore he would never fall in love or get into another relationship, preferring friendships over any kind of romantic trysts.

Now that he looks at Yuu, he already knows he's screwed up big time.

Yuu's gaze is no longer meeting his, instead staring into the fireplace that Grim had so generously set up earlier. The crackling blue flames reflect in their irises and in that moment, dread curls inside Ace's stomach. Yuu doesn't seem right.

"Hey…you okay?" He asks hesitantly, placing a hand on their shoulder.

Yuu doesn't move, still staring at the fire intently. He opens his mouth to ask again, but then they speak.

"If I wasn't acting like myself, would you still like me?"

Another question out of left field.

"Even if you somehow grow anemones on your head, Yuu's still Yuu, right?" His heart swells in pride at the way their lips quirk at his inside joke.

"Yeah…" they murmur back.

"Wanna see somethin' cool?" he says, holding out a card. Yuu tilts their head questioningly.

"It's the ace of hearts. What about it?"

"It's not just the ace of hearts!" Ace puffs out his cheeks. "Don't you know the meaning of this card?"

Yuu shakes their head.

"It means good news for yourself or someone close. Practically a lucky charm!" Ace waggles his eyebrows suggestively. "So how can things go wrong now that you have me?"

Yuu snorts and shoves him playfully. "Yeah, yeah, okay, Mr. Lucky Charm."

But it works. The foggy clouds clear from Yuu's eyes, finally returning them to the familiar luster he's used to. For the rest of the night, there is no hint of hollowness within them. And Ace hopes he will never see that sight again.

He should've known something was up since that night.

When Headmaster Crowley personally makes an appearance at their dorm, he should've realized it then. If there was anything that the old raven hated more, it was having to do more work than usual.

"That person wasn't an imposter." Crowley says, coughing awkwardly into his fist.

The solemn words echo in his head on end. The rest of the Headmaster's words start to tune out for Ace. Automatically, his legs begin to move on their own. The calls of the others chase after him, but he ignores them, racing out of the lounge and towards the mirror portal.

Because if you didn't hurt Yuu-

-then what had he done?

When he first arrived in NRC, he didn't even know that Ramshackle dorm existed. Not until Yuu came to reside there; until he had to beg for shelter from them when he was chained with that damn collar. He knew that they didn't have to take him in. But they did, and maybe that's why Ace couldn't turn his back after that.

The building before him is no longer the broken down hovel that he remembers back then. He remembers how the roof was almost caving in and wooden beams were always in danger of collapsing. Each knock on the entrance doors would send cascades of dust upon his head. Now, the walls are painted with a fresh coat of paint, the roof has new shingles, and the place actually looks like a house you could safely live in.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Prefect! Are you there?!" He yells, desperation leaking into his voice. "Please!"

Bang! Bang!

He's gotta be out of his damn mind, acting like some crazy person. But he can't help but be blinded by his fear. So he keeps hitting the door with his fists, praying, hoping, for…well that someone would open the door.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Yuu!!" He screams, and his voice echoes around him, mocking his helplessness. His fists are becoming numb from slamming the wood so hard, but he can't stop himself.

"Yuu–!"

"Oi! Ace!!!" A rough hand on his shoulder shoves him back and before he could knock the souvnabit-

"Ace, look at me!"

He's stopped by Deuce's fists meeting his in an even match of strength. Like an illusion broken, Ace stills and yanks his hands back.

There's only heavy breathing in between them for a long while.

"...they're not here." Ace snaps to look at Deuce, who only closes his eyes in a painful grimace.

"What do you mean, 'not here'?" Ace asks.

Deuce doesn't say anything for a beat.

"What do you mean they're–"

"They're in the infirmary." Deuce's words flow out in a breathless rush. "The Headmaster said that after you ran."

Fuck, he just acted like an idiot then. No wonder no one was responding to his absolute earth shattering door banging and yelling. Then the meaning of Deuce's words begin to sink in. Oh Seven, no–

He turns and before he could even step in the direction of the main building, his arm is yanked back.

He snarls at Deuce. "Let me go! I have to see the prefect!"

"Housewarden is calling you back." Deuce forces out through gritted teeth and closed eyes. "The Headmaster said that…they don't want to see anyone."

And like a fire put out, Ace's anger chokes to flickering embers.

He lets Deuce guide him back, all the way from the Ramshackle dorm, to the mirror portal, and then back to Heartslabyul's lounge where the other three are grimly awaiting them.

Ace half expects to be yelled at once he passes the threshold. Or get some kind of lecture on how he should have better manners than to just run off like that. It would've been just like his housewarden to only care about weird, arbitrary rules when there were other arguably more important matters.

But his housewarden sits silently on his gilded velvet throne with glassy eyes. There's no anger burning behind them, and the freshmen are terrified to see their once proud and fearsome queen reduced to this husk. He almost would rather him back to the state where he was barking out orders for them. The silence in the lounge is deafening.

Ace swears they must be all thinking the same thing.

Please let this be a bad dream.

He tried calling you. Texting you. Hell, he even tried messaging you on Magicam! Magicam, of all things!

Anxiety claws at his heart with each unread message and dial voice tone greeting. He has so much to say, to ask for-

Deuce wasn't faring well on his side either. He had also tried calling and texting you, to no avail. Grim, that traitor, hadn't come back to visit Heartslabyul at all since the incident. Never mind the fact he had only himself to blame for that—he thought at the very least the cat direbeast would have some sense of pity for their friendship and throw them a bone.

Ace tried two more times to meet you.

First, during your infirmary stay, when you were still unconscious.

The second time was when you returned to Ramshackle dorm with Grim.

Maybe the Seven were punishing him for his hubris. Or he supposes this is just karma. Because both times, he fails spectacularly at the front door of Heartslabyul. Because of this, he's the reason why Riddle had put them all on house arrest (with the exception of academic reasons, of course).

It's a declaration that would've been met with mutiny from all of them, if it weren't for the fact that even Headmaster Crowley had explicitly forbade anyone from showing up on Ramshackle's doorstep or trying to meet you. So he understands. Really! He does. He's seen how Riddle holes up in his room, muttering to himself while carrying out boxes upon boxes of crumpled paper. When he manages to snag a stray paper that flutters out on garbage day, Ace realizes that Riddle is also just as frenzied trying to reach out to you. Even if he is going about it in an old fashioned way.

He'll chip in to help. If his housewarden is left to his own devices, they’ll all be fossils by the time he sends what he deems a satisfactory letter.

And the faster they do this, the faster they have a chance of reaching you.

vii. Embalming

The most horrifying thing is that it doesn't seem to care about dying.

That cursed pile of ceramic shards had disappeared—no, pieced itself back together—and once again, it became the smiling face of Yuu, the being they all knew and used to adore.

Riddle Rosehearts immediately smashed it to pieces again under the weight of his magic.

No one had tried to stop their housewarden. Not even the faceless mobs. Even if they were all alarmed at the erratic behavior of their housewarden, they could not deny the fear of seeing something dead come back alive. With not so much as a dent or wound in them, for that matter.

The third time it happened, Riddle ordered for the remains to be dumped into the school’s incinerator at the highest heat level. Surely, that would be enough.

He watched as the incinerator roared and shuddered, shaking as if the pits of hell had opened. After a few agonizing minutes, the rumbling stops, and before he can even breathe a sigh of relief, the iron hatches creak open, and out strolls Yuu, perfectly fine and pieced together again.

It's magic. Or some kind of century old curse. Of course it is. After all, it was at a higher power than even Draconia's comprehension. Why he didn't consider the possibility beforehand is something he berates himself now.

What might be the most damning thing is that it has no fear or suspicion in its face; even after the multiple times it’s been maimed and torn apart. Not like you, who immediately closed themselves off at being hurt so thoroughly.

The irony isn't lost on him. The temptation of letting the puppet take its place back in favor of just bringing everything back to how it was is something Riddle could not deny. But now that he's actually met you, Yuu just seems more of a shadow of what he remembers during your interactions together.

It has your face. It acts like you.

But it's not you.

When Ace asks after the commotion at the Unbirthday party on how he was able to figure out that it wasn’t [First], he had to take a moment to gather his thoughts. Ace’s face changes into something of disbelief when Riddle merely replies with: “[First] takes their tea with two sugars and a dash of milk.”

“You were so sure only because of that?”

He doesn’t want to think what Ace’s face would look like if he had explained his whole list of reasons how he realized that the puppet wasn’t you. How he soaked up as much as he could when you came over for the tea party. Your expressions, your little habits, the way you fidget…it was all filed away in Riddle's head and later, his private notebook.

But that doesn’t matter now. Now, there’s an even bigger problem than the puppet resurrecting itself.

Grim is missing again.

This alone should've been more worrying than anything for Yuu, but it merely shrugs and says it’s not sure where he scampered off to. He's more than suspicious, of course, but there is no proof, which is infuriating already.

But without Grim, they are missing the key to finding [First].

The others raise hell once they hear the news Riddle reports at the weekly housewarden meeting. A new wave of tension washes over NRC and with it, an unprecedented deep disdain for the puppet. It returns back to classes unannounced, making Ace and Deuce rant to him about how weird it is that it’s trying so hard to act like nothing had happened. It attends school events with their camera, drumming up conversations like normal between all of them; despite the fact it gets ignorance or violence in response (depending on the person it greets).

But none of them are really sure on how to interact with Yuu.

The nicer ones, like Trey or Deuce, entertain Yuu with frigidly civil responses, in hopes of boring the puppet and making it flit away to another victim. Meanwhile, he and Ace have finally come together on an agreed opinion: that they would rather die before letting the puppet even think it could take [First]’s place.

“Go away.”

Yuu merely smiles in response to Riddle’s annoyed voice. The puppet leisurely lounges in the chair across the table from him. The school library is vast but empty, his authoritative voice echoing down the long halls. Several floating books flit past above their heads and the chandeliers above flicker with bright candlelight.

“I just wanted to keep you company.” Riddle purses his mouth in disgust. It’s invasive, it’s gross, and most of all it feels wrong to hear those words coming from Yuu.

“I didn’t ask for your company,” he replies coldly. “Shouldn’t you know that it’s bad manners to bother someone who wants to be left alone?”

“I don’t think you like being left alone, Riddle.” He flinches at the way Yuu’s eyes bore into him. “Well, then again, you sure like to pretend you’re fine, don’t you?”

His hand tightens around the textbook he’s reading about cursed dolls. There would be no point if he brought out his magical pen and reduced it to rubble. But he is tempted, if only to get some peace and quiet for just a few minutes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Riddle says.

“Hmm…” Yuu hums into its hand, “...then I suppose I will just let you be. What a shame, I had something entertaining to tell.”

“What? What do you mean?”

Yuu giggles and waves him off. “No, no! You said you didn’t want my company now. Why should I tell you anything?”

He resists the urge to incinerate the book in his hands. “Fine! I would like your company. What is this ‘entertaining’ thing you want to tell me so badly?”

“Hmm…how insincere,” Yuu tilts its head coyly with a smile more akin to a smirk. “But I guess that’s the most I can get.”

“Since you’ve all been driving yourselves crazy, [First] is safe.” The floor feels like it’s been yanked underneath him. The puppet is smiling still, as if it’s all some big joke rather than the revelation it delivered. He can hear his blood roaring through his ears.

“You…” Riddle snarls, face heating into a bright red rage. “What did you do to them?”

It bursts into laughter at his face.

“Why, I only granted their wish!”

Its laughter is cut short by the sound of ceramic being crushed, and Riddle is left shakily breathing at the pile of shards that used to be Yuu. The puppet’s words churn over and over in his head.

What did you wish for?

It is currently 3:20 on a Wednesday afternoon.

In his planner, the bullet point neatly penned on the schedule shows ‘Studying for History Test’ in bold blue ink for the time slot. ‘History of the Queendom of Roses’ is laid open on his desk, to the chapter about the local mythos of the area, just as he intended. His notes from lecture are next to it, with several of his stationary needed to jot down annotations.

And yet, Riddle has yet to touch any of these items or actually adhere to his daily schedule—he’s too distracted by what he should do in order to reach the player.

Riddle's already embarrassed enough, resorting to handwritten letters with the best calligraphy he can muster. He's sent only a couple that passed his satisfaction, and they have all been met with judgemental silence. He’s hunched over another crumpled letter near ripping his hair out when someone knocks on his bedroom door. He quickly shoves the envelope under some textbooks out of frantic instinct.

“Come in.”

A familiar bob of red orange hair pops out behind his door, and Riddle raises an eyebrow at the underclassman who enters.

“Ace? What is it?” Normally, Ace would never be in his room if he could help it. If he was in Riddle’s room, it most likely meant he was either being scolded or punished. And Ace’s eyes are shifting side to side, as if he was trying to sneak his way in.

“Out with it, Ace.” He’s not in the mood for the underclassman’s shenanigans.

“Housewarden, you’re writing letters to the prefect, aren’t ya?” The question completely takes him off-guard sputtering.

“W-What does t-that have to do with you?” He tries to maintain his composure, but Ace is already giving him a smug smirk for the one up on him. Of all people, it had to be him finding out.

"I had an idea, Housewarden. Why don't we send them something with the letter?" Riddle blinks in surprise.

“...How smart of you for once, Ace.” It was so simple, yet he marvels at the idea's brilliance. Perhaps there was merit in trying this proposal.

“Hey! What the hell does that mean?!” His underclassman snaps back in a huff. “Whatever, point being, maybe we should switch it up instead of letters all the time.”

He crosses his arms, “And what do you suggest? There’s not much we can really send that hasn't been sent already by other dorms.”

Ace winces. Clearly he didn’t think about the other dorms with more affluent people; people who had more than enough thaumarks and prestige to spend it to appeal to you. Riddle can't blame him either: although he is at the top of the school and his parents are well known mages, it's not like any of that could help him here. All of them, in a sense, were stuck in that situation.

For once, he starts to resent not having more.

"Ugh, well…maybe it doesn't need to be so fancy, you know?" Ace rubs his neck, face scrunched in frustration. "Like…uh…you know-flowers! People send flowers all the time, yeah?"

This is true. And for Queendom of Roses’ residents, it has become custom to send bouquets with subtle messages left in petals and stems. Although he is a bit loath to admit that he isn’t as well versed in the language of flowers compared to hedgehogs.

"And what do you recommend, Ace?" He asks. "What would be the best flower to send to the prefect in our circumstance?"

"We got all these roses, why not send them that?" Ace responds, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Riddle coughs in annoyance.

"Why not just procure some from Sam's shop? Today is Wednesday. Do you not remember rule 228?" He chides. Ace groans, rolling his eyes.

"Not the weird rules again…"

"Ace."

"Yeeesss Housewarden…" The card soldier mock salutes with a deadpan expression. "I'll see if we can get some flowers at Sam's."

"You better, or else it's–"

"-off with my head, I got it, I got it." Riddle seethes as Ace cuts him off and dashes out of his room before he could get another word in. So troublesome…

Still, there's nothing to do except wait for his card soldier to report back. He turns back to his desk, bringing out the crumpled letter from its hiding place. Running a hand over the crumpled pages, he attempts to pick up his pen again, but fails as his thoughts begin to wander.

Riddle only manages to pen a couple legible sentences when his door slams open, banging against the wall. He almost falls out of his chair in shock from the loud noise. How was Ace back so quickly?

"Have you not heard of knocking?!" He scowls, turning around to see Ace panting and sweating as if he had run a marathon.

"Never mind that, Housewarden, I saw them!" Ace shouts.

“What are you jabbering…” Riddle trails off in realization. “You better not be horsing around, Ace.”

“Do you think I would lie to you about this?” Ace retorts frantically. “I saw them at Sam’s shop working the cashier!”

For a moment, his mind races with this information. If you were working at Sam’s shop, it would explain why you weren’t showing up to classes, let alone in the hallways or rooms of NRC. It’s a clever ruse—classes may be over during this time of day, but nearly all of them were participating in mandatory club activities or study labs. No wonder no one else has caught on to this. Riddle rubs his chin in thought, settling back in his chair.

“What are you going to do now, Housewarden Riddle?” Ace asks hesitantly. His eyes are filled with some kind of anticipation and hope, no doubt wondering if he could get some leeway in his own agenda. Normally, he would go right away as there was no need to hesitate about these kinds of things.

But. Crowley’s stern announcement comes back to his mind and guilt starts to creep in.

“First, we’ll go with your idea, Ace.” He responds. “The ban hasn’t been lifted, after all.” Ace opens his mouth to protest, but he holds a hand up to interrupt him.

“But if that doesn’t work, then I’m sure even Crowley can’t say anything about coincidences.”

viii. Calling Hours

“I’m not joking around, you two.”

There’s very few times that the vice housewarden of Heartslabyul gets truly mad. His patience seems boundless, honed by years of taking care of younger siblings at home and then dealing with rowdy underclassmen in NRC. But even his saint-like patience could only stretch so far.

“I told you, we didn’t do it!” Ace scowls with furrowed eyebrows and crossed arms. Meanwhile, Deuce is silent by his side, face twisted with conflicting emotions. “You don’t even have proof! You just singled us out just because!”

“Who else was around the kitchen when I left it?” Trey asks, voice starting to rise in anger. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice you two lurking around before?”

The two freshmen began to speak out, voices rambling over each other and cascading into a loud shouting match that was barely intelligible.

“We just wanted to see if we could get something from the fridge, how were we supposed to know someone would-”

“Me and Ace just wanted to bring something along when we deliver the Housewarden’s invitation to-”

"You dumbass, don't just say that out loud-!"

It’s at this moment that Cater Diamond strolls in, takes one look at the mess of the situation and does a 180 back round to the door. But it’s too late, because the interruption is just enough for Ace to sink his hooks into him.

“Cater-senpai, you believe us, right?” Ace shouts after the orange head, making him flinch in place. “You saw us get the order from Housewarden Riddle!”

Cater turns around slowly like a door on rusty hinges, with an expression that screams of not wanting to be involved. "Oh Acey! Uhm, you mean the letter Riddle gave you two-"

"Yes!" Deuce interrupts in earnest, already trying to barrel his way to proving his innocence. "Housewarden Riddle entrusted us to deliver the tea party invitation ourselves personally."

Cater turns to Trey, who is rubbing the bridge of his nose, eyes closed with a tiredness that seems comically reminiscent of an old man. "Well, I'm not sure what this is all about, Trey, but maybe you should cut 'em some slack and let it go."

The other senior nods in reluctant agreement and the two freshmen all but nearly trample over each other trying to run from the tension filled room. But they're stopped in their tracks when Trey calls out again.

"Wait, you two." The duo slowly looks back with cautious eyes.

"You wanted to bring something to the prefect, didn't you?" Trey tilts his head to one of the many strange topsy turvey cabinets in the kitchen. "I have some leftover cookies that I made yesterday. Take them. I'm sorry for accusing you guys like that."

Ace and Deuce exchange confused glances, and although Ace looks away in denial, Deuce nods in gratitude. They leave the kitchen just as chaotically, this time with the aroma of lavender following them.

A brief silence follows their absence, while Cater raises an eyebrow at Trey.

"Sooo…care to spill the tea?"

"Don't even start." Trey groans.

Cater seats himself on one of the stools near the counter, waiting. Trey busies himself with cleaning the stoves and counter, trying not to meet Cater's eyes. Silence falls, but it's with none of the comfort that Cater is familiar with. Giving up, he turns to his phone, refreshing his Magicam dash mindlessly. This continues for a good while until finally—

A low sigh, then– "Somebody took my candied violets."

Cater looks up from his phone. Another beat passes, and he realizes it's not a passing statement.

"It's not like you to get this bent out of shape over your ingredients going MIA." Cater shifts his face onto the elbow meeting pristine marble while shoving his phone away. "You sure that one of the froshes didn't just end up taking them thinking they were for everyone?"

Trey lets out a rough guffaw. "You know better than I do that the others don't touch our stuff."

Cater taps his fingers on the polished white granite, hands already itching to grab his phone and check for updates, but he restrains himself. "That's…mostly true."

"That can only mean one of you guys has taken it." The hairs on Cater's neck raise at Trey's tone.

"Hey now," Cater grins, raising his hands in mock surrender, "you heard it from those two. I was with Riddle when he gave them that invitation."

"I know." Cater's fingers twitch as Trey carelessly tossed aside the rag used to clean the counter into a bucket. The soggy fabric makes a hollow sound against the wood, echoing rather loudly in contrast. "But Riddle would never do such a thing either."

Cater resists the urge to roll his eyes. It's true that their cute housewarden would hardly dare to stoop to thievery, but Trey's blind faith in him can be annoying at times. After all, didn't their little teapot tyrant threaten to kill the prefect at one point?

He supposes that was his fault, though.

"Then it's back to square one." Cater shrugs. "Besides, what were you even planning to do with them if you weren't gonna eat it?"

The baker runs a hand through his mussed forest green hair and frowns. "I was going to bake a cake with them as a peace offering to the prefect."

Cater's mouth forms an 'o' shape in realization. "That's pretty big brain."

"Yeah, but look how that turned out."

"It's fine~you were able to at least send cookies this time round." Cater finally cracks, digging into his pocket for the familiar grooves of his phone case. "All's well that ends well, right?"

Trey doesn't respond and Cater is too engrossed in his phone to look up to see his expression. He slides off the stool naturally, tapping through recent posts and comments, eyes laser focused on recent posts on his dash.

"Cater."

There it is. It's the most recent story reel by Ace(according to the time stamp, about two minutes ago). It's an inconspicuous black out picture with several cute teapot and teacup stickers decorating the screen. The banner message is short and sweet: 'Dorm tea party bout to get real this month 🤔😶'

"Cater." Cater's attention snaps back and towards his friend, who gazes at him with dark eyes.

"Please don't lie to me next time."

With that, Cater watches as his long time friend finally leaves the kitchen.

Thank the Seven he did. He might have been a decent actor, but Trey has been with him through thick and thin, and it's given him the annoying ability to see through his tells.

Really now. Trey knows that he hates sweets. Shouldn't that be enough of an alibi?

It's not fair that Trey already has everything to set him up for a good relationship with you. Even if they're all set back by their violent reaction to you arriving in this world, he's sure it would only take a couple tries with Trey offering genuine heartfelt food to get to you.

It's just not fair.

Isn't he fun to hang out with? He consistently gets compliments online for his suave looks and easy personality. So why couldn't he compare to-

He shakes his head. There's no point in overthinking it now. Cay Cay #3 had easily taken the cutely decorated jar of violets and discarded it in the dorm dumpster. Like candy from a baby.

He knows it's petty. But for once, he feels much better, knowing that he upset Trey's original plans to ensnare you.

Now, he once again checks Ace's story reel and screenshots it, while quickly pulling up the search bar. He just needs to level the playing field.

There can only be one fake bitch in this house and Cater has had enough of the competition.

“I wasn’t aware that you were going to visit me, Cater.”

The puppet tilts its head with a warm smile, but there’s a frosty undercurrent to the greeting. It’s clear that he’s not welcome, if the way it’s blocking the doorway of Ramshackle has anything to say.

“Yeah, I ended up losing something here. You mind if I look for it, Yuu-chan?” Cater asks innocently. “Promise it won’t take too long.”

“Hm, sure. But I don’t think you’ll find what you’re looking for.” Yuu's grin is sharp as a razor blade. It knows what he’s here for and it’s definitely taunting him. That little–

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to look~” He responds back airily. His fist curls around his phone in his pocket tightly. The puppet shrugs and walks off, leaving him standing in the doorway.

It’s been a while since he’s personally been at Ramshackle dorm. Cater remembers how Ace complained about the house being a real fixer upper, but then again, he doesn’t remember much of that, since Yuu always spent most of the time at Heartslabyul dorm. The renovations certainly made it much more pleasing to the eye and more importantly, livable by HOA standards.

There’s nothing to write home about the living room. The coffee table is bare and there’s no wrinkles in the sofa cushions at all. It’s a little eerie—as if no one even lived in the house in the first place. The only sign of living was perhaps the fact it is clean of dust or dirt.

Nothing in the kitchen either. He gives a wayward glance to the second floor, searching for any signs of movement. Couldn’t hurt to be thorough.

Rows of tall doors pass by as Cater opens each one of them. A storage closet, a spare room, an electric cabinet, another storage area–it all blurs by after the fourth door. There really is nothing, as if the whole house has been wiped of any trace of you. He's about to toss in the towel when an old, dusty memory crops up. His little freshman, Ace. Cater swears he had been making fun of Yuu for seeing strange things at night. Something about a mouse?

Right, their room! Why didn't he think of looking there?

His feet take him rapidly from memory to the door that was the third from last in the hallway in the east wing. He manages to wrench the door open to see a regular bedroom, bed sheets barely stirred. Before he can even put one foot in, a throat clears behind him.

"It's rather rude to go into other people's bedrooms, don't you think?"

You got to be kidding me. Cater turns around with the fakest smile plastered across his face. Yuu looks unamused, tapping its foot impatiently against the wooden floorboards.

"Just wanted to make sure, y'know?" Cater replies. Yuu gives a tight smile back. It goes around him and shuts the door with a hard thunk.

"Ever heard about how curiosity killed the cat?"

Cater shakes his head in surrender, "I guess I need to look elsewhere for my lost item."

The entrance doors slam shut behind him hard enough to startle several birds out the dead trees in the yard. Cater doesn't bother giving a look back as he strides out of the yard and past the gated fence surrounding the property. That glimpse was enough and much more. Cater smirks to himself, taking his phone out and sending a quick text message to the group chat. Yes, curiosity may have killed the poor kitty cat…

But satisfaction brought it back.

viiii. Eulogy

It might surprise people to know that Trey Clover's first real friend is Che'nya Pinker.

That's not to say that Trey had trouble getting along with others as a kid, oh no. Everyone in his neighborhood agreed that he was a very sweet boy, who looked out for others around him. When he wasn’t taking care of his baby sister, he would be asked by other parents around the block to look after their own children, whether that be playing soccer games with the more energetic kids or patty cakes with the quiet ones. So it isn’t a stretch to say that he’s friends with nearly everyone. But Che’nya was a special case.

Their first meeting is still burned into Trey’s memory.

“You see it too, don’cha?” The boy had greeted him while swinging upside down on a low hanging tree branch. Trey had half a mind to scold him for the dangerous action before he actually looked at him.

The first thing that takes Trey off guard is that he has eyes. They’re a shiny yellow, just a shade lighter than his. His pupils are long and thin, not round like his at all. He supposes it must be like a cat’s pupils—for he’s never seen anything like it. Then it’s his unique colorful hair, streaks of light pink intermingling with dark purple, making a strange striped pattern across the chopped uneven hair. Trey faintly recalls a certain cat from their local legends, whose fur boasted those very same colors.

“...What are you talking about?” Trey eyes him warily. The cat boy gives a cheeky grin. He vanishes and then reappears in front of him, albeit with missing arms.

“The people around us who wear the faces of strangers.” Trey’s skin gets goosebumps at the way the boy observes him. He is not looking through Trey, but at him. Their eyes are directly making contact. “But you’re different. You have the face of a friend.”

“And what do you mean by that?” Trey furrows his eyebrows. The boy's grin stretches wider in response. (His teeth were rather blunter than expected, but his canines were pointed.)

“You’re strange. I’m stranger. Together, we can both be strange,” the cat boy chirps back lightheartedly. “The name’s Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker. But you can just call me Che’nya.”

Something in his mind had clicked then. It’s hard to explain the feeling–just that it felt like a puzzle piece put into place. He hadn’t known it then, but at that point, the hands of fate had moved.

Whatever the case may be, Trey was grateful to have Che’nya. Because now he knows that he isn’t crazy; not when he couldn’t see his parent’s faces nor his baby sister’s or even his other friends'. Che’nya too, only shrugs his shoulders when Trey asks him about his grandfather.

“The old man? Yeah, they say I have his eyes, but I wouldn’t know.” The statement is so casually delivered that Trey can hardly believe he’s talking about his only living relative and guardian. “His face does not mirror mine in my mind.”

Staring down at you, shivering with cold and hunger, he feels something churn in him again, just like that fateful day.

He has his orders from Riddle: bring in the imposter alive. Trey isn’t a violent sort and nor does he enjoy boasting his strength over others like a sadist. And he cannot deny the feeling of cold rage that day when Yuu shuts down, fear inundating him that he may never, ever, get an explanation for the world he was born in. Why he and Che’nya were special, why he had to witness Riddle suffer under his mother–what was it all for?

Your face. There is no blank stretched skin—he can see your wide open eyes, bloodshot and fixated on him. Your mouth too, shaped in a pained grimace, lips bruised and bloodied from previous skirmishes. Surely, surely, there must be a reason why you were here. Why you bear the same face as Yuu. You hold all the answers, if you would just cooperate.

“Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Trey tries reaching out, but you scurry back into the hedges, squinted eyes wary and untrusting. You remind him of a frightened hedgehog, prickly spines bristled and body curled in to protect yourself. “I just wanna talk.”

“Go away, please,” the imposter quietly pleads. “Just pretend you never saw me! I swear I didn’t even know how I got here…”

Trey swallows hard.

“Just come quietly. Please.” He is the one begging now. “It’ll be easier for all of us.”

“For who?” The imposter barks a sharp laugh. Trey doesn't miss the way they wince in pain from their wounds. “For me? Or for you?”

He doesn’t have an answer. The sound of running footsteps has him turning, and when he looks back, you’re already gone. The only traces that you were there at all were faint splotches of red blood and crushed grass.

Trey wonders if this, too, was meant to be fate.

—

Trey’s been lovingly dubbed as someone reliable. Some consider him to be an older brother figure due to his nagging and supportive care. It's ingrained in him at this point from the years he’s spent playing babysitter. Trey knows the students around him are not his younger siblings who need constant watching (although their actions say otherwise).

But he worries.

Just a bit. Trey knows better than anyone that you can take care of yourself just fine. He's seen how you carry yourself within those hedges.

It's just that, he doesn't know if you're okay right now. How could he know? You've been silent even in the face of Riddle's unceasing letters. So of course he's just a bit unsure if you're actually okay, or if you don't trust them enough to say so.

Trey finds himself more frustrated with the ban they're under. Not because of the inability to see you, although that is part of it. No, it's because Riddle has managed to skirt around that rule to desperately grab onto you, and that was just enough to wear you down.

He thinks if he was bold enough, he could've tried.

As if it wasn't enough, even Ace and Deuce find their own way to get to you, snatching up the chance to deliver the monthly tea party invitation. It takes everything in Trey to clench his teeth and let go—even when Cater ruins his plans. He can't get mad here because it won't get him any closer to you. He has to be the bigger person.

If there is one thing Trey knows about Cater, it's that he absolutely hates getting sweaty or dirty. If Cater wasn’t trying to get out of running those P.E laps, he would absolutely be shirking any extra work assigned. So he's more than suspicious when Cater bounces up to him with a grin saying he could help cover Trey's science club duty of watering plants.

Trey likes to think he can tell when Cater’s lying. His close friend's happy go lucky demeanor often throws off others, but he’s been with him long enough to pick out his subtle tells. His eyebrow twitches when he’s particularly anxious and the corner of his mouth tends to perk up if he’s feeling particularly daring or desperate. Trey figures this must be something that even he can’t trust Trey with, if he’s going out of his way to take on extra work.

So Trey considers this repayment for letting him take his violets. He watches as Cater dashes off in labwear, waiting for a minute, before following after him. His duty was in the tropical zone of the botanical garden, so he has no worries even if he does lose him.

He nearly does a double take when he sees you walking in the courtyard hallways by yourself. And before Trey could rethink his actions, he follows behind you, eyes not leaving your form for a minute.

You look like you haven't slept well. There's dark circles under your eyes. He hopes you're brushing your teeth. There’s no signs of bandages or wounds that he remembers you in, which he supposes is one relief. Even if he so desperately wishes to cook you a proper meal—you look like you could fall over at any minute.

The realization your path is leading to the botanical garden comes just as Trey catches sight of the glass dome. He wants to rush in after you, but he stops himself just as the door swings close behind your form.

Cater is in there. It all makes sense now. Trey has to give it to him—Cater really does know every little happening in the school. But Trey knows him well too—and if he had to guess, even if Cater manages to talk to you, it won’t end pretty. His inability to be genuine will definitely only set you on edge and less likely to reciprocate.

The waiting game he plays is nothing compared to the silence he had to endure before. Trey doesn’t have to look to know that you’re the one slamming open the doors to the botanical gardens, labwear dirtied and face twisted in a frustrated anger. He watches as you enter Professor Crewel’s office again and after some time, pop back out in completely different clothes.

His chest tightens in longing as he continues to follow after (more from an instinctual drive now, rather than deliberate), trying to keep you in sight within the stone pillars. He wants to call out after you so badly and ask you what’s the matter, if you need help with anything. If there was anything he could do to make you forgive him for watching you bleed out on dewy grass. The sun is about to set, warm golden rays flickering between pillars and casting long shadows. Trey’s so enamored with following after you that he flinches back when the sun directly shines into his eyes, blinding him momentarily.

He barely manages to get a hold of himself. By the time his eyes blink away the blurry blots, he realizes you’re looking back at him. His breath stops. Your eyes are wide and frightened as they are that day, and his heart drops to his stomach. Both of you don’t move, merely staring at each other.

You finally break the connection, turning around and quickly walking away. Trey gasps, remembering to breathe, lungs screaming for air.

What was that?

x. Entombment

It's a nice sunny afternoon in the Heartslabyul domain. There weren't any track club activities nor dreaded remedial lessons. If anything, this free time would have been perfect for a nap. He hadn’t been up to any large shenanigans like this since the whole fiasco of [First] and Yuu.

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Ace scoffs, rolling his eyes. “You got a better one, loosey Deucy? If we don’t do this now, then all of us are stuck until Housewarden grows a pair of balls.”

Deuce Spade bites his lips. “I just think there might be a better way around this.”

“Yeah? And the sky is blue. Keep going, we don't have much time." Ace cranes his neck to the side of the bush, eyes warily looking out to make sure the coast is clear.

Deuce grumbles but continues plucking, some roses already tucked within his arms. They chose a bush the furthest away from the dorm, in a hidden corner where no arched windows could overlook them. It was necessary, because today was Wednesday, and the Housewarden would have their heads for plucking his beloved roses out of all the flora.

His fingers are bleeding already, finger pads torn from repetitive tugging on the thorns and stems. They couldn’t afford taking any of the gardening tools, lest they be questioned for what they were doing with them. Still, even he had his limits.

“Why is it that you aren’t helping at all?” Deuce snipes at Ace, who scowls back.

“You want to be caught by someone, genius?” Ace replies snarkily. “Someone has to keep look out.”

“Doesn’t explain why I have to do all the work.”

Ace rolls his eyes, deigning not to bother engaging in another futile argument that would lead to nowhere. Deuce is about to cut off a particularly stubborn rose when Ace pipes up again.

“...Did they ever respond to your texts?” Deuce only deflates in response. Ace’s mouth slants crookedly in an annoyed grimace. The two of them know full well what the answer to that was.

“Damn that cat…” Ace mutters bitterly under his breath. Deuce doesn’t say anything. He too, is finding it hard to not feel petty towards Grim right now. Weren’t they friends? He could’ve afforded to help them out somehow. But it’s no use. Their texts went unanswered. Headmaster had banned them from stepping foot onto Ramshackle grounds. It’s like you had closed everything off from them.

It’s why he doesn’t protest this plan, as reckless as it is. He’s not any better than Ace—he needs to see you. He and Ace were your closest friends, your first friends! He loved you. That had to mean something. If it didn’t, then…

“I think this is enough.” Deuce adjusts the messy bouquet in his hands, attempting to hold them without crushing the delicate petals. Ace looks over and nods in approval. He takes out crimson ribbons and a silk handkerchief and begins tying it around the stems in a very artful way that has Deuce’s eyebrows raising.

“Where did you get that?” Ace smirks in response at the interrogative question.

“Don’t worry about it.” Ace snatches the bouquet from his hands and slips in an envelope with the housewarden’s seal. Deuce silences the questions on the tip of his tongue. For whatever Ace has planned, he’s rather not know anything more troublesome than necesscary.

What he failed to account for was getting caught. Housewarden Riddle was beyond furious for what they did. It was only by Trey and Cater's gentle reminders that what they did was for all of them, that he only calmed down.

Deuce supposes three days with the collar is better than a week. Even if it is a heavy thing that weighs on his very soul.

He only hopes that you don't notice the thorns they forgot to trim.

—

It’s a given that although Trey is the right hand of Heartslabyul, Cater is considered the left hand of Housewarden Riddle. It’s been that way since Deuce himself enrolled in NRC, and possibly even further back. He hadn’t understood it quite then, but after some time, he realized something that he should’ve realized a long time ago.

To never get on Cater’s bad side.

There are events where the five of them gather outside of Yuu’s influence. Administrative meetings, monthly tea parties, and the occasional casual hang out. When you’re aware of how much of your life is affected from being not like the others, it’s common to side with those who are like you.

Cater had called the meeting this time. It was a bit out of the blue, at least for him and Ace. It’s only when they’re all gathered around the playing table in the lounge, not another soul in sight, when Deuce realizes Cater has that gleam in his eye. One that screams that he got a viral lead on a hot topic. His upperclassman must have been investigating.

"Remember how mirrors are considered to be portals?"

Deuce's neck prickles.

"Your point, Cater?" Their housewarden is impatient, not aware of what the question poses. His arms are crossed with his eyebrows furrowed in a frustrated glare. Deuce realizes that he must have been the one to send out Cater.

"There's a mirror in the prefect's bedroom." Deuce blurts out, and Riddle’s steely eyes snap over in surprise. Cater nods in affirmation.

"Yeah. I only managed a glimpse, but Yuu covered their mirror." Cater says.

“Hold on, you went into the prefect’s bedroom? Scratch that, to Ramshackle?” Ace asks. “Why are we just getting this now?”

“Because I just came back Acey,” Cater flicks his forehead, causing Ace to exclaim in pain. Trey smiles faintly at the action. “Also Riddle told me to keep it confidential—you two would have ran straight out if we had told you.”

Deuce sheepishly rubs his neck at Cater’s pointed sentence. Riddle rubs his chin in thoughtfulness, eyebrows still furrowed.

“But there isn’t anything magical about that mirror, is there?” Riddle asks, skepticism coating his tone. “The puppet could have simply covered that mirror out of an odd preference.”

“Acey, didn’t you mention that Yuu always mentioned seeing things in that mirror?” Cater responds, deflecting the question upon his underclassmen. Ace straightens as he and Deuce both exchange a glance.

“Yeah…something about a mouse in their mirror,” Ace answers slowly, face scrunched in an effort to recall memories. “I always thought it was just crazy dreams but…”

“Yuu was always insisting about it,” Deuce chimes in. “Said the mouse speaks to them and everything—that there was another world it was in.”

Trey and Cater share a furtive glance together before looking at Riddle. Their housewarden seems to be taking in the new information, closing his eyes in thought. For a while, no one dares to speak.

“What do you think, Riddle?” Trey finally breaks the heavy silence, and Deuce breathlessly releases a sigh. Leave it to Trey to speak for all of them.

“If the mirror in the bedroom is magical, then that changes things.” Riddle pronounces with conviction. “If that mirror potentially holds a dimension, then that would be the perfect place to trap someone.”

“Cater.” The orange head straightens to attention at the stern command. “Find a way to get the puppet out of the dorm for a while. We’ll need to look into this ourselves.”

Cater smirks and a chill runs down Deuce’s spine. While Cater still has an easy going look, his jade green eyes have darkened with a sadistic gleam.

“Roger that, housewarden!” His upperclassman chirps, already taking out his phone.

Riddle is already barking orders that each of them are to take up within this mission of theirs. But Deuce nearly misses his task, eyes stuck on Cater’s face as he scrolls his phone.

He catches a glimpse of a photo before it’s quickly clicked away. Deuce snaps back to Riddle just in time for Cater to shoot him a wary glare, checking to make sure no one else was looking.

Deuce is very glad he is working together with Cater.

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #my works #damn this is the most ive ever written.....insane

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em-writes-stuff-sometimes · 9 months

Text

darilaros (princess) │ Chapter 1: Sunrise

terms of endearment ‘verse: see my Masterlist for the correct series order!

Chapter 1 │Chapter 2 │Chapter 3 │Chapter 4 │Chapter 5 │Chapter 6 │Chapter 7 │Chapter 8 (COMPLETE!)

Synopsis: Queen Aemma brings a new child into the world—you. As the second daughter of King Viserys, you experience firsthand what it means to belong to the House of the Dragon.

Hello, everyone! Welcome to the very first instalment of this series, featuring baby!Babey and teen-uncle!Daemon! This prologue will be the only Daemon POV of this instalment (or at least that is my current plan), and there will be several time jumps in keeping with canon. Please keep in mind that, as canon diverges around Episode 5/6 in this series, much of what occurs in the show will also occur as-is here, so don’t expect anything particularly innovative in terms of plot, lol. I’m hoping this will be an opportunity to establish Babey as a firm part of the storyline in a manner that is a little less ambiguous, and will also serve to provide more wholesome Babey/Daemon interactions to foreground their later shift. A couple things: there will be NO ROMANCE in this fic, because Babey is a child. Ew. There may be mentions of romance between other characters, but this story will be told firmly through Babey’s eyes and thus events are limited to her own interpretations.

Anyway! Enough from me - on with the show!

TRIGGERS: mentions of miscarriage/stillbirth, mentions of childbirth trauma, blood.

“And so it was that, in the summer of 109 AC, Queen Aemma took once again to her childbed, remaining there for near two days for what would be a difficult and taxing labour. In the early hours of the morning, King Viserys and his lady wife welcomed a living babe—but not the babe they expected. The arrival of a second daughter took both by surprise, for they had come to believe the child in the Queen’s belly had been their longed-for son. It was nonetheless announced that the Queen had been delivered of a healthy girl, and a great relief was struck up across the Realm, the bells of King’s Landing being rung from dawn to dusk and the people gathering on the streets in praise of their new Princess.”

- ‘Fire and Blood: Being a History of the Targaryen Kings of Westeros’ by Archmaester Gyldayn

It's quiet this time, he thinks. No snivelling midwives, no wailing… A good thing, surely.

Still. The silence, in all of its peculiarity, is unnerving. After the last occasion—the frenetic activity bustling up and down the halls, the yelling, the sound of Aemma’s screams, the stench of blood thickening in his nostrils as he stepped forth to take his first and last view of the purple, unmoving babe in the cradle he would never outgrow—the absence of sound seems almost foreboding. Should he not hear the child cry? Should he not be within by now? He would venture to knock on the door, but he dare not risk disturbing this fragile peace—especially if it is not fated to remain so.

Thus, Daemon Targaryen, eighteen summers of age and the King’s very own brother, waits in his seat opposite the entry to the Queen’s chambers as he has done for hours. And, as he sits, he prays.

Well—not pray, exactly. He’d have to believe in gods to do that. But, should a higher power exist, it cannot hurt to lend his own voice to the masses that even now attempt to muster enough mercy to grant the survival of his cousin and the child she has worked so hard to bring forth these past moons. Let them live, he urges, pressing the thought out into the air around him, into the sky far above the Keep. Let them both live.

“Any news?”

Daemon snaps to attention, head tilting automatically to the intruder. He suppresses a sneer. Now is not the time.

“Nothing,” he says, taking care to keep his tone even.

Otto Hightower sighs. “Well”—the Hand of the King moves closer, towering over Daemon with his hands clasped behind his back—“no news is good news, I hope.”

“Hm.” He’ll not dignify that with a response.

Hightower’s eyes narrow in on him. “There is no need to sound quite so downtrodden, Prince Daemon. I am sure the King will find some use for you… now that you are no longer his heir.”

He knows what the man is after. A display of anger, perhaps—maybe even hot-headed insistence on his part that his position stands as it has since Viserys won the throne, that the child is dead, that the Lord has every reason to fear him still. He won’t give him the satisfaction, though. If his brother ventures out to see Daemon once again railing at his most trusted advisor…

Daemon’s desire to meet his nephew outweighs his need to put this upstart in his place.

“Never fear, Otto.” He smiles, lips stretched wide with too much teeth, threatening more than welcoming. “I’ll always have a place by Viserys’s side. I am his brother. And you…” He looks the man up and down. Even now, the pin of the Hand is attached to the cunt’s lapel like a sycophantic badge of honour, gleaming in the golden torchlight. “What are you, exactly?”

Hightower’s jaw clenches. “I am the Hand of the Ki—”

“For now,” Daemon says, a smug half-smirk playing at the very corners of his mouth. “Don’t forget that. For now.”

What he doesn’t say is plain to read upon his face. One day, he’ll understand. One day, he’ll see you for what you really are. A leech, one who latches onto power and drains those who truly wield it dry.

The reminder makes Otto pale. “I—”

The door creaks open, the flushed face of one Viserys Targaryen appearing in the space between wood and frame. “Daemon.”

Daemon rises. “Is—how is—” He cannot get the fucking words out.

His brother grins. “Aemma is well, and the babe is healthy.”

He lets out a relieved breath, surprised to discover exactly how tense he had been since the messenger had roused him from sleep at the hour of the owl. That tension releases itself with the air he pushes from his lungs, his shoulders sagging from the freedom of it. Suddenly, his eyes no longer feel so wide, so fear-bright, and fatigue sets in. He is tired. But first—

“May I see him?” he asks.

At that, Viserys pauses, whatever he had intended to say to Otto left unfinished. He clears his throat, all joy fleeing his face. “Ah… About that.”

“Is the boy… crippled?” The Hand’s voice is hushed, apprehensive.

“No, no!” Viserys insists, shaking his head. “Only… she is small, quiet. Nothing at all like Rhaenyra was.”

“A girl? But Runciter was so certain!” Otto says, mouth parted in shock.

Runciter’s a fucking fool. Anyone who sets stock by his theories ought to be burned alive, Daemon thinks, rolling his eyes. He’d never liked maesters—any of them, least of all the doddering fuckwits appointed to the vaunted station of Grand Maester. That Runciter had gotten this wrong is hardly surprising. None of them seem to know what they are doing.

He pushes around his brother and leaves him to his latest inanity, moving onward to where his newest niece lay.

The Queen’s chambers are stifling, unbearably hot, the windows closed tight and the fires blazing in spite of the warmth already pervading the early hours of the morn. Another ridiculous notion, he suspects, though whether it be Westerosi custom or Targaryen superstition, he knows not. Perhaps dragonbabes can only be born into the fire they are made from.

Last time he was here, Aemma had been gaunt, eyes red-rimmed and near hysterical from the passing of her first, her only son. She’d laid weeping in her bloodied shift still, bedraggled hair sticking to slick skin as she’d mourned the child, insensate to kind words or reason from any who had approached her. Eventually, Viserys had demanded all who were not the blood of the dragon to remove themselves from the room. Together, he and Daemon had borne Aemma from her childbed, had taken her to the bath still waiting, had disposed of the last markers of gloom and tragedy marring the space.

Only those of Valyrian blood should ever bear witness to weakness from one of their own. Only those of Valyrian blood could ever understand the magnitude of such a loss. Their line had been dying out since the Doom—every death since only ever added salt to the wound.

What Daemon walks into this time is different. So very, very different.

Aemma is gaunt still, overcome by weariness, no doubt sapped greatly by the trials of such long labour. Shadows carve deep hollows beneath her eyes, skeletal, made almost sinister by the flicker of dim light, and her mouth is pale and cracked. Yet, there is naught but a buoyant sort of lightness adorning her face, shining more brilliantly than a crown ever could.

The chamber bears none of that ominous atmosphere that pervaded that night, instead filled with the heady scent of frankincense clogging each breath he draws, earthy smoke settling warm in his gut. The sheets are clean. The midwives calm. The Grand Maester, asleep in the chair by the fire.

And, in the Queen’s arms, the smallest wrapped bundle he has ever seen.

“Is that…” He swallows, dazed and speechless.

His cousin beams. “Come,” she says. “Come and meet her.”

Wordlessly, he approaches, taking care to make his footfalls light so as not to disturb the delicate creature enshrined in a mother’s embrace. As he draws close, he sees that the babe is not asleep as he had thought. Instead, open eyes look upward, deep dark indigo with the merest hint of lilac-violet-amethyst, the promise of Old Valyria in that muzzy, unfocused gaze.

This is the moment he meets you.

Aemma graciously accepts his silent question, relinquishing you to your uncle with naught but a gentle sigh and a stroke to the cheek. So little are you that you settle easily into the line of his arm, head to the crook of his elbow and rump to his cupped hand, light enough that it would be easy to forget you are even there. You let out a soft bleat, feet kicking beneath your swaddling—but that is all. For when that blue-nearly-purple stare shifts, locking with his, you fall silent, still. And so does he.

You are beautiful.

Of course you are. Viserys is hardly the handsomest of men, and Aemma comely enough though of no great noteworthiness, but their firstborn is about as lovely as any girl of nine summers can be. Your sister.

Gods, he thinks. Rhaenyra, an elder sister. The very notion of his spoiled little niece playing such a part seems unwittingly hilarious in this moment. She will not like being made to share her mama and papa—her uncle—with you.

Right now, that is irrelevant. His attention returns to the slope of your nose, the rosebud bloom of your lips, the blush of your rounded cheeks, tracking the near ethereal features of your face with a delicate fingertip. Newborns are dreadful looking things, usually, squished and red and misshapen. You look like a painting, or a doll made by the finest artisans, a sculpture rendered by magic rather than mortal hands. He wonders if it is love for you—and it is love, he has no doubt of that, for his love of family is perhaps the one true redeeming quality he possesses—that blinds him to any imperfection, or if you really are as lovely as you seem.

“What will you name her?” he asks, smoothing the cloths off your fragile little head to take the briefest peek at your scalp. Ah—there it is. Targaryen silver. With an Arryn for a mother, one could never be certain.

“Rhaenyra’s insisted on naming her sister Visenya.”

Daemon glances toward the foot of the bed. Viserys has returned, absent of his loyal hound, drawing near without his notice.

He snorts. “How very like her.” ‘Tis true; Rhaenyra has always been fixated on stories of the Conqueror and his wives, in particular forming a fascination for the elder of Aegon’s Queens. It is a powerful name. A warrior’s name. He frowns. “A fine name—but not for this little thing.”

Visenya is anger and retribution; violence and chaos; death and destruction. Daemon can find nothing of the sort in you. Every part of you—from the tips of your fuzzed palewhite hair to the petite softness of your wiggly little feet—seems fit for a destiny of another kind. One of peace, of calm, of joy and goodness.

Aemma hums an agreement, wholly preoccupied with gazing at her newest child. “If she were a son, her name would be Baelon.”

“Hm.” Viserys steps forward, palm brushing featherlight across your side as he passes to sit by his wife. “Baelon and Visenya. Those are the names we had prepared. But alas, Baelon was not to be. And Visenya is not… right.”

Daemon stands, bringing you a scant few steps toward the window. Dawn is approaching. The sky has relinquished the darkness of night, and there, on the horizon, the faintest of ambers illuminates the locus where the heavens and the earth meet, silhouetting the city below. As he watches the sun rise, he just barely hears the staff behind him make their final exits, awash in a rustle of equipment and a hush of words offered to their mistress and exultant ruler.

A tiny noise below draws his interest. Your eyelids have drooped, soft lashes framing lavender lids that sweep across the skin of your cheeks. When he dips his finger into the parting of your mouth, you begin to suckle at him, reflex rather than need.

“What would you call her?” Aemma asks after seconds, minutes, hours. He turns, brow arched in surprise. She seems genuinely curious, though she is admittedly not one for mean-spirited japes as it is. His cousin has always valued his opinion more than his brother ever had, even if was she who had forced his bitch of a wife upon him. “If you could,” she adds, “what name would you give her?”

He looks to Viserys, wordlessly asking for permission. A dip of the chin is his response. Letting loose a soft grunt, he peers down at his small charge.

Visenya is too fierce. Gael too glum. Too many fucking ‘Rhae’ names, so no Rhaenys. Daella too bland, Saera too provocative, Alysanne too common.

And then, he thinks upon it. The perfect name. Your name. When he says it aloud, he is met with a shine in Aemma’s eyes, a gleam in Viserys’s grin.

“That is it,” the King says, nodding decisively. “That is what we shall call her.” Rising, he comes forward to clap Daemon on the shoulder lightly, hand warm even through the layers of his shirt and coat. “Thank you, brother.”

“Your Grace,” he murmurs, tipping his head.

There is a tightening in his chest, the sort of feeling that threatens to stop his heart from the depth of his own enduring emotion. As Viserys makes his way to the door to deliver the announcement—to proclaim your birth, to order the ringing of the bells, to declare your name for the entire world to hear and know—Daemon gazes down at you.

“What do you think, sweetling?” He says your name again.

This time, he swears that you smile back at him.

Read on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48798151/chapters/123097897

Taglist (😭 thank you!):

Now in the comments!

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bandgie · 5 months

Note

Hey I saw your requests were open so I figured I’d shoot my shot. Can I request a fic Where Hyunjin really needs to pee and reader is joking around with him while straddling his lap and he keeps warning her that he needs to go but she thinks he’s kidding and he ends up peeing a bit and he feels kinda shy about it so reader tells him it’s okay to just let go while she’s on his lap. Then she starts grinding on him and he gets turned on and they fuck raw for the first time 😁

a/n: oh you're siicckk I love it

warnings: just read the ask man, MDNI 18+, established relationship, under the influence, fem!reader, dom-ish reader, soft dick hyunjin (lets fucken go), fluff mostly, PIV, no protection, come on you should know me by now!

1.4k words

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Maybe drinking wasn't the best idea. You could only imagine the pounding headache that would come in the morning. However, you couldn't manage to care enough as you sat on Hyunjin's warm lap. His hands were lazily placed on your hips, softly rocking them against his crotch.

Another bad idea in getting wasted was that neither you nor Hyunjin had explored each other much. The relationship was still new, but that didn't stop either of you from grinding up against each other late into the night.

Hyunjin could feel the excitement bubbling in his stomach. The feeling of your plush thighs on his, how your chest was pressed in his face. It sent a thrill down his spine to be this close to you, but there was a familiar pressure in his bladder that ruined the mood.

"Babe," his voice was velvety soft as he spoke. "I gotta piss."

You looked down at your lover. A confused look on your face as you replied, "Now?" He nods, looking at you like a dog who got his bone taken away. "Yes, now."

Rather than getting up, you grab the back of his head and force him between your breasts. He makes a mmf! sound then giggles at your behavior. "Babbeee," he drawls. "I really need to go." His hands tap your ass as an encouragement to get up, but you aren't having it.

"You just don't want to touch me," you pout. The alcohol must be getting to your head. You're not one to deny someone of relieving their bladder. Hyunjin, however, is too drunk to catch onto the playfulness of your tone. "Of course I want to touch you! I'll just go to the bathroom real quick and-"

Hyujin's cut off with a moan as you grind your hips down on him. You rock back and forth, trying to create some friction between the layers of clothes. "You can hold it." It's not a request, but a demand from you.

He shakes his head, "I really can't. We drank a lot. I'mma piss myself."

This makes you giggle, "Big boys don't pee their pants." You ignore Hyunjin's whines as you lift your hips just enough to remove your skirt. With your white underwear exposed, he can see the small patch of wetness that's accumulated.

"If you do wanna piss that bad, you can go here," you look down to your bare thighs. Your hands move from the back of his head to the front of his pants. He doesn't protest when you unbuckle his belt, zip down his zipper to pull out his soft cock.

You coo at the sight, grabbing ahold of his dick and running your thumb along the slight. "You really are drunk," you mumble. "Can't even get hard." Hyunjin looks both horrified and aroused. It's your first time seeing his cock, and he's flaccid. You, on the other hand, are beyond ecstatic to see it.

The warmth of your hand makes his hips jerk upwards. He groans. "Fuck, I'm gonna pee on you."

No matter how many times Hyunjin's warned you, you're still shocked to see a yellow stream emit from his tip. He tried to cover his cock, but you quickly slap his hands away. His piss lands on his jeans, leaking into the material. The warmth seeps onto your thighs, all the way down until your white underwear is stained with a yellow hue.

He moans. Moans when he sees you covered in his pee, his fifth. Hyunjin expects you to jump off his lap and run to the bathroom. He's waiting for your disgusted expression, but he's surprised to see a wide smile on your face.

You pump his wet cock, drooling. "Fuck it's everywhere. Peed on me like a dog, you're so hot." Some piss leaks from his cock as you stroke him faster. Your underwear sticks to your cunt, but you're certain it's more of his own fluid than yours.

Hyunjin whimpers, "I...You think it's hot?"

The uncertainty in his voice pulls at your heartstrings. Your boyfriend could do anything, and you'd find it endearing. He has you wrapped around his finger, and he doesn't even know it. "I think you're hot," you emphasize. "I need you in me now. I really wanna fuck you."

If Hyunjin was more sober, he would be horrified at the thought of having sex with you like this. He wanted your first time to be romantic. He wanted to take things slow and feel your body on his, completely nude. Still, he can't ignore the delight in how you pull your soaked underwear to the side.

His cock twitches in your hand. After his tinkle, Hyunjin feels himself getting hard in your soft palms. He helps you over his dick with his hands on your waist, slowly lowering you to his length.

Everything is so easy, so perfect when his tip breaches your walls. There's not an ounce of pain as he fills you up. You shiver and place your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. "Mmm so good," you moan. "Deeper."

Hyunjin complies eagerly, shoving the remaining inches of his cock. It nestles snugly in your cunt, the head kissing your cervix. As much as you would like to bounce on him, you stay sitting fully on his dick. You want to feel how the curve of him hits every spot within you. How your walls tighten and squeeze around his unfamiliar girth.

It's only when you've begun dripping that you move upwards. A few inches of Hyunjin's length slip out before you slide back down. He slides effortlessly in you, stretching you wonderfully.

Hyunjin can't decide whether he wants to look at your face or where your bodies connect. He loves watching his cock disappear in you as you ride him, but he also loves your fucked out expression. How your mouth hangs open to moan uncontrollably, the way your nose scrunches when he thrusts his hips upwards, how your eyes look into his so dreamily.

"Fuck," Hyunjin groans. This might not have been the ideal way he wanted to make love, but he'll forever save the image in his mind. Imprint the feeling of your body on his. He'll immortalize this moment in a painting.

Both of you are too tipsy to properly fuck into each other. Your thrusts are sloppy and they don't match. Sometimes you have to stay hovering while he grinds upwards to you. The sounds of his thighs clapping against the back of yours echo in the house.

You throw back your head when he decides to use you to his liking. He bounces you on his cock like a fleshlight, eyes crazed. With your throat exposed to him, he can't help but lean forward to bury his face into your neck.

Without warning, he bites down. You cry out from the sensation, feeling his teeth pierce your flesh. The saltiness of your skin settles on his tongue and the primal taste makes his hips move rougher.

A warm sensation builds quickly in your stomach, and you find yourself flooding before you can comprehend it. The familiar pale yellow liquid spurt from your cunt, and sprays all over his lower stomach.

Hyunjin laughs tiredly upon feeling the liquid stream out of you. He pulls his head back and looks down, seeing the mess. "Looks like I wasn't the only one who needed to go."

You babble incoherently, jumble 'sorrys' and 'don't stop.'

He chuckles again and focuses his attention back on your dripping cunt. The extra warmth and wetness only push Hyunjin closer to the edge. His grip tightens on your hips and he drives into you. His balls tense and his cock twitches, and for a moment he thinks about pulling out.

But the way you're helplessly letting him use you and looking at him so endearing makes it seem as though you might get upset if he pulls out. So he doesn't, and he buries his cock to the base as he cums inside.

You thought it was impossible for you to feel wetter, but you're proven wrong. Hyunjin's cum shoots itself deep inside to claim you. You feel gravity pull his arousal down and out of your pussy, dripping onto his thighs and the couch.

Tiredly, you collapse on his chest. His arms wrap around you and pull you close, peppering your neck and cheek with kisses. Both of you find solace in each other's embrace, giggling and giving open mouth kisses carelessly. It doesn't take long for the cum and piss to get uncomfortable.

Both of you decide a thorough shower is much needed... and maybe another round.

a/n: this was pretty fun to write! little secret for ya'll, men can't piss during sex (unless they have a medical condition) so that's why I had him soft to pee. but tbh we need more skz soft penis appreciation. if you're with me say 'i'

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hearts4hazbin · 10 days

Note

Ok ok ok I've had an Adam prompt in my head for WEEKS but I'm thinking like Adam (who would obviously be in some kind of band in Heaven, I mean cmon) hooking up with a fan, like in a greenroom type setting or like a fuckin public bathroom (if they're desperate)

Love your stuff 🙏 looking forward to whatever Adam fics you end up writing!

♡ just one night? | adam x reader.

A/N : first non-vox smut fic, wow. this request is great 'nonnie, i now need band Adam to fuck me 🤤 I have such a thing for cocky men it hurts.. !MINORS DNI!

Being the first man, everyone loved Adam. Including you. He was so cool, so handsome, so amazing. It didn't help that he was in a band. He would play gigs in hell all the time, scratchy vocals echoing through the viewers eardrums, fingers skillfully playing his guitar. Oh how you longed to know what else those fingers could do.

"You alright babe?" Adam leaned against the back of the stage his performance was just in. He startled you, and you did end up jumping back in surprise, "Surprised you're talking to the man himself?"

"I guess," You replied anxiously. Your crush, who you thought would never utter a word to you, is now standing at your side.

"You wanna talk somewhere else?"

☆☆˚.꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ ꒷꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ ꒷꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬꒷꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ ꒷꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ ꒷꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ ꒷꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ ☆☆

"Ah, A-Adamm, p-please~!" You moaned as three of his big fingers explored your insides. Your legs were spread wide enough for Adam to watch the sight in front of him.

"Please what?" He grinned. You were in the greenroom where he rested between shows and you guys sure indeed talked.

"You- You know well what I me~ean," You weren't going to admit you wanted him to fuck you so easily, not when his fingers were already doing it so well. But you wanted more.

Adam wasn't going to give in so easily. "Hmm? I'm not sure what you're talking about. Use your words." He curled his fingers, making you moan his name again.

"Ugh, please," You sighed, "Please fuck me."

"Am I not doing that already with my fingers? What do you want?" You knew Adam was a bitch, but you weren't expecting him to be this mean.

"Your cock. Want your cock inside of me," You admitted. Adam took his fingers out of you and made a whole show of cleaning them up.

He finally took off his boxers and his erect dick was something to marvel. The other people he's fucked have survived a national disaster. "You happy now? I'm sure you wanted the original dick itself, didn't you?"

"Mhm," you mindlessly responded, too busy thinking of that going inside you.

Adam took your chin with his left hand, his right hand going to your hip as he pushed himself inside you, "You're tight."

Your face turned red at the comment, and then before you knew it, he started bucking his hips back and forth, letting out sweet groans of pleasure, tufts of pubic hair

Adam was making you see stars as he continued to fuck you, his left hand now resting on your stomach. More specifically, the bulge from his dick. Your eyes widened as your eyes went to him, then your stomach, and then back to him, who grinned at you in response.

"Are you close?" He asked as he went to play with your tits. You nodded feverishly. Adam didn't even bother to pull out. He just blew his load inside and tugged on your nipples until you also came.

"I have another gig tomorrow, so I gotta go. We can take a picture before I go & I'll give you an autograph, 'kay?"

"Already? Can't you stay just one night?" You frowned as you opened the camera app and gave Adam your phone.

"Yup. Sorry babe, can't stay any longer," Adam made a duck face and a peace sign. He handed you your phone, your messages app opened. A phone number.

"Bye A-" but he was already gone.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin x reader #x reader #hazbin hotel smut #♡ a blessing from the stars!#hazbin hotel adam #adam #adam x reader

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danikamariewrites · 10 months

Text

No One Left Behind

Xaden Riorson x f!Reader

A/n: I know the book has only been out for a few months but I was hoping there would be more FW fics. Xaden is my new favorite book bf so there might be more of these fics coming in the future. My requests are open so feel free to request any SJM or Fourth Wing character

Warnings: a few swear words lol

As the squad landed back in the flight field Xaden searched for your dragon, Cadmus, who was seemingly missing from the group. His brow furrows and heart rate starts to pick up. You just had to be a little behind, right? No that wasn’t like you, your speed was building and you were a faster flier than most in the squad.

Lately, Xaden had been taking the time to fly with each individual squad in Fourth Wing to make sure everyone was prepared for War Games. He didn’t want to leave anything to chance.

He dismounts Sgaeyl as Liam dismounts Deigh. Xaden shoots Liam a confused, angry look as to say ‘where is she?’ Liam shrugs looking around as if he could see you when Xaden couldn’t. His attention is ripped from his search for you when he hears laughter from the back of the group. Amon. And his stupid lackeys.

As soon as Xaden heard that little shits laugh he knew Amon had something to do with you not making it back to the flight field with the rest of the squad. Fury took over his entire body as he started stalking over to the boys. It took all of his restraint to keep his shadows reined in, so they wouldn’t strangle Amon. One of them had the sense to look uneasy about the whole situation as Xaden got closer.

Once Amon was within arms reach Xaden grabbed the fucker by the front of his flight jacket. Fuming, Xaden growled out, “You have one chance, just the one, to tell me where she is.” “I’m not sure-“ He raised his voice so the squad could hear, “As wingleader I’m giving you one shot! Cadet!” He spits out the last part emphasizing how below him Amon is.

“Y/n isn’t very good at evasive maneuvers,” the little shit had the audacity to smirk, “so I thought I’d help her practice. Gotta work on those rolls.” Xaden was fuming as he pushed Amon backwards into the two boys behind him. He pivoted on his heel, walking quickly back to Sgaeyl so he could fly back out to find you.

As he mounted Sgaeyl his mind was racing with all the horrible what ifs. What if you had fallen off Cadmus? What if Cadmus lost control and crashed, killing you both? No, he couldn’t think like that. It helps nothing if he thinks of the negative.

Flying fast and low over the vast mountains and forest of Basgiath, both Xaden and Sgaeyl were on the hunt for you.

After 20 minutes Xaden spotted Cadmus running through a break in a canopy of trees. “Down there!” He shouted to Sgaeyl. She swooped down into a clearing as Cadmus turned around. Xaden noticed you weren’t in the saddle. But, it seemed as though Cadmus was smiling and wagging his tail back and forth like a dog. It was then that Xaden saw the medium sized tree branch between his jaws.

“He says she’s a few feet behind us sitting under a tree. She is unharmed. Stupid dog.” Sgaeyl says only for Xaden to hear. He jumped from her scaly blue back clumsily, like he was dismounting for the first time.

“Y/N!” He yelled, voice echoing across the forest. He broke into a jog, finally seeing you exactly where Sgaeyl said you were. You were about to rise up from your shady spot when you saw Xaden come into view. He tilts his head back and lets out an exasperated sigh, with his hands on his hips.

He strides over to you. You look up at him, feigning innocence as he looks down at you. Annoyance contorting his perfect face, making the scar that cuts through his eyebrow crinkle in that cute way when he’s mad. “Are you serious? You had me scared shitless! I thought Amon killed you for gods sake!”

Guilt immediately rushed over your body. You didn’t mean to scare him like that. You just wanted to teach Amon a lesson to not fuck with you. “I didn’t mean to stay here this long, I’m sorry.” You stand taking his large hands off his hips and holding them in your tiny ones. “I was going to come back just a few minutes after the squad landed. Hopefully to you, Liam, Rhi, and Garrick scaring the shit out of him.”

Xaden leaned his forehead down to meet yours. “As funny as that would’ve been sweetheart, I’m going to ask you to never ever do something like this again.” You giggle, “I promise, baby. I’ll just have to think of something else.”

“You are going to be the death of me sweetheart.” He cups your face in both hands and leans in to kiss you. It was soft and sweet. You deepen the kiss and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. Before the kiss, and Xaden’s wandering hands, could go any farther you hear Cadmus huff and drop his tree branch.

Breaking apart Xaden shoots the red Daggertail, a look that would scare anyone. Lucky for you both Cadmus was unusually friendly for a dragon. He turns back to you, “So what’s the deal with him and the stick.” You purse your lips and look down sheepishly. “Fetch is his favorite game! Don’t judge.” You push his chest lightly. He grabs your wrist pulling you in for one more kiss before picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

“HEY!” You jokingly struggle against him. “Alright sweetheart, back on your dragon. We’ve been gone long enough and if Liam got to kill Amon before I could I’m gonna be pissed.” He puts you down next to Cadmus’ forelegs ruffling your hair.

You turn to give Cadmus an accusing look. “You were supposed to ask Deigh when they were almost back. What happened?” Cadmus huffs, “I forgot. In my defense, you were making fetch very fun this round.” He says in your head. You roll your eyes, “Yeah, yeah. Let’s get going, you overgrown dog.”

#fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #xaden riorson #liam mairi #xadenviolet #Xaden Riorson x reader #Xaden x reader #Sgaeyl

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irb-pascalito-99 · 2 months

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I Can Keep a Secret

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader (no outbreak AU)

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: insecurity, jealousy, smut, p in v sex, oral f!receiving, fingering, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, grief

Summary: The relationship between Joel and Ellie’s older sister is complicated after the two share some tense moments while Ellie is in the hospital. Once Ellie is able to go home the two meet up during their lunch break to discuss where to go from here.

A/N: This is an excerpt from chapter eleven on my fic Always an Angel, Never a God. To read more of this pairing check out my a03.

We eat lunch at a diner nearby. The waitress, a tall woman named Esther with thick brown hair and bright blue eyes, comes by the table frequently. She does her best to flirt with Joel, batting her eyelashes and holding his arm as she refills his coffee cup each time she passes by. I fight the urge to say something, a pit of jealousy growing in my stomach each time she reaches out to grab his arm, but Joel doesn’t seem to notice her attention.

She comes by the table again to top off his cup. I watch her manicured hand grip his bicep as she asks if he needs anything else. He looks over at me, raising his eyebrows to ask if I need anything. When I shake my head he briefly thanks her for the coffee and turns his attention back to me.

“So, sounds like you had a long morning. Is it just about Ellie going back to school?” I take a bite of one of my fries.

“For the most part,” I respond. “I also had this meeting with the social worker this morning so…”

Joel nods, giving me space to continue if I want to but not pushing the conversation in any way. I know I should be opening up more. I’m trying not to fall back into my usual isolation, but I keep the wall there. It’s comfortable on the other side, safe.

He notes my apprehension toward continuing the conversation, so he moves on. I watch him rub the back of his neck again. It must be a nervous habit of his.

“So, I wanted to talk to you about the other night,” Joel says.

I take another bite of a fry, fighting the blush creeping up my neck as the memory resurfaces. My body feels hot as I think about it. His hands on my hips. His moans in my ear.

“I just wanted to clear the air a little. It feels like things have been a little tense lately, with the kiss and then the moment at the party. I know you’ve had a lot going on, and I don’t want to pressure you or anything,” He says his words slowly, as if examining each one before he says it.

Esther watched us from the counter, her eyes skipping from him to me. I feel angry watching her assess the situation, like she’s trying to make a claim to something that’s mine. Except, Joel isn’t mine.

I try to ignore Esther and focus on Joel when he continues. “I completely get it, if it was a heat of the moment, just want to feel something, kind of thing. We can just leave it at that and never talk about it again, but I want to know what it is for you.”

What is it for me, the big question. I knew I’d have to define it soon. It’s been keeping me up at night. I think about it while I paint. Every stroke of brown reminds me of his eyes. The golden light filtering through tree lines reminds me of the warmth of his arms around mine.

“I don’t think,” I try to formulate my thoughts. I like him. I know I do, but I have baggage that he shouldn’t have to deal with no matter how much he claims he can handle it. “It wasn’t just a heat of the moment thing. I mean, the moment gave me the courage to act, but I meant it. I wouldn’t take it back. I think I really like you.”

A smile tugs at the edge of his lips. My heart leaps at the gesture. “Me too.”

I bite my lip and push some of the fries back and forth on my plate. He wants me too. My stomach is doing somersaults. I nearly jump up to yell my triumph across the room at Esther, but I think back to Ellie and the promise I made to Marlene.

Jumping into a relationship right now, with Ellie’s best friend’s dad, would put everything I’m working toward in jeopardy. What if something went wrong and it caused issues between Sarah and Ellie? What if Ellie found out and hated me for it? As much as I like Joel I can’t afford any mistakes right now.

“I can’t give you what you deserve though. I can’t give you the whole relationship thing. I have to be careful though,” I blurt out. Joel places his mug back on the table. “In that meeting with the social worker, she said some things. I really like you, but Ellie comes first. Ellie always has to come first.”

“I understand that, I’m the same with Sarah.” Joel responds. He reaches his hands across the table and I take it in mine. “I’ll take you in whatever way I can have you.”

My heart sinks at his concession. It’s sweet, and every girl’s dream, but I don’t feel deserving of it. Why should he be relegated to stolen moments behind closed doors? It’s selfish to ask that of him.

Just then Esther crosses back over to our table. I pull my hand back from Joel’s grasp as she approaches. She grabs his bicep again and I got my teeth.

“Everything alright over here, sugar?” She asks Joel, completely ignoring me.

He flits his eyes up to her face and smiles back at her politely. Blood rushes through my ears as I watch her grip on his arm tighten. Screw it, I’ll be selfish. I grab Joel’s hand again and turn my attention to Esther.

“I think we’re good, thank you.” I respond with my best fake smile. Esther’s eyes move back to me and then my hand holding Joel’s.

“Alrighty then,” she says. She lets go of his arm and sulks away.

—

I rush to unlock the door the second Joel texts me to tell me he arrived. Sure enough, he’s standing on the front porch, the glow of the porch light illuminating the waves in his messy brown hair.

We’ve kept things quiet over the last couple days, being careful not to act any different around other people. It seems best to keep things secret for now. We’re not in a relationship, it’s more casual than anything. I’ve waited all week to get my hands on him. There was no good way to sneak in a visit during the school week, but the girls are having a sleepover at my house tonight. I texted him when they finally fell asleep and he came over immediately.

I look at the empty street around him and then grab a hold of the collar of his shirt and pull him into the house. He grips my hips for support as he follows me inside, smiling against my lips when he leans down to kiss me. I’m careful to close the door and lock it as quietly as I can to ensure the girls stay asleep in Ellie’s room upstairs.

There’s an excited energy coursing through me. I’m not sure whether it stems from the newness of this thing with Joel, the building pressure off barely having seen him sided we agreed to see what this is, or the rush of sneaking him around like a secret to be preserved just for me. Whatever it is, my body aches to feel him, to hold him, to be felt by him.

“Somebody’s excited,” Joel chuckles as he pulls my body closer to his. He kisses me again, deeper this time while he holds my hips against his.

“I need you,” I respond when we break away from each other. Joel squeezes my hips tighter, a low moan escaping his chest.

“Say it again,” Joel pleads.

“I need you, now Joel.” I say again. He whimpers at the sound of it. We don’t have a lot of time together tonight. He still has to head home when we’re done so the girls don’t get suspicious, and I can’t wait any longer. I press a quick peck to his lips and then take his hand to drag him up the stairs.

He quickly follows at my heels. I take him to my bedroom and push him back toward my bed. He topples onto the mattress, his hands gripping the sheets at his sides as I climb on top of him. I press my knees on either side of his thighs and lean down to press delicate kisses along the column of his neck.

“Fuck baby, what’re you-“ he gasps when my hands reach down to his belt buckle.

His body is already twitching under my grasp while I slowly undo his belt and throw it behind me on the floor. I lower his jeans next. His hands move from where they had been grasping the sheets to squeeze the sides of my thighs. I make quick work of his shirt next, pulling the buttons open and kissing down his exposed chest.

I press kisses all the way down his body, nipping and licking at the skin from time to time as well. When I reach the waistband of his underwear I press a kiss to his hip and slowly pull the boxers down his thighs as he throws his head back and groans.

His cock springs out at me, hard as a rock already. I’ve felt how large Joel was through his jeans before, when he pressed me down on his lap to grind against him until I came, but to see it is a completely different thing. Joel is huge, his cock easily bigger than any I’ve ever seen before let alone been with. The tip is already leaking a bead of pre-cum which I happily lick into my mouth.

His hips twitch as my lips press against his tip and he makes a quiet hissing sound through his teeth. I take his reaction as encouragement to continue, licking a delicate stripe up the side of his shaft. His hands tangle in my hair as he desperately fights to keep his moans quiet. I take more of him in my mouth and start bobbing my head up and down.

“Yes baby, god,” Joel groans. “Good girl, you’re doing so good.”

I hum appreciatively at his praise, causing his hold body to shiver and his hips to buckn further into my mouth. I choke slightly at first, but quickly adjust to take more of him down my throat.

He’s having a hard time suppressing his noises now. One of his hands adjusts in my hair to hold it in a makeshift ponytail while the other moves to his mouth. He bites down on his hand to muffle his sounds as he watches me through heavy eyes. I pull up for a moment, swirling my tongue around the tip before sinking my mouth back down again.

“Fuuuuccckk,” he moans around his hand. He starts to thrust his hips up, unable to hold back any longer. I welcome his length deeper into my mouth, the tip of his chock brushing against the back of my throat with each thrust. I continue to moan while my eyes water.

I haven’t always enjoyed this part, many of my boyfriends before were so rough with it, and quick to move on once they got what they wanted, but the sight of Joel coming further and further undone as I take him in my mouth makes me clench my thighs to ease the pressure at my core. I could do this all night, enjoying the feeling of him taking what he wants, but suddenly he pulls me off of him.

“Stop, stop,” he says exasperated. He breath comes out in pants while his cock twitches against his stomach.

“I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?” I ask. Joel leans down and uses his thumb to wipe my cheeks off the tears that escaped while he fucked my throat.

“No baby, that was so good, but if you didn’t stop I was gonna come.” I stick out my bottom lip and pout.

“Isn’t that the point?” I ask. I reach my hand out to start pumping him again, but he grabs my wrist.

“Not before you it isn’t. I gotta be inside you tonight.” I whimper and he pulls me onto the bed.

Joel adjusts our positions so I’m splayed out on the bed with my head on the pillows. He slowly pulls my old t-shirt over my head, revealing my naked breasts. He groans at the sight of them and quickly lick over one of my nipples. My back arches into him involuntarily. It’s my turn now to muffle my sounds as he sucks on my nipple, releasing it with a pop before moving on to the next one.

When he’s satisfied he lowers his lips to nip at the underside of my boob and moves his hands down to push my sweatpants off and onto the floor. He traces his fingers over the center of my soaked panties.

“You’re so wet for me sweetheart,” he says. He moves his lips up to suck on my neck while he moves his fingers in circles over my panties. “She really been needing me that bad?”

I whimper in response, nodding my head in desperation as I squirm underneath him. He flashes a devilish grin.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll give you what you need.” He promises.

His fingers grip the waistband of my panties and he quickly pulls them off my body as well, leaving me completely bare in front of him. He stands over me, eyes roaming over my figure hungrily.

I move to cover myself, but Joel grabs my wrists and pins them above my head with one hand. His other hand slowly caresses my body while I whimper.

“Don’t you dare cover yourself, you’re too damn gorgeous for that.” He says as his hand moves lower.

He cups my mound and smiles when I buck my hips up for more. He carefully slips one of his fingers through my folds, watching my reaction as I squirm underneath him. I fight to keep my eyes on his face and spread my legs further for him.

His thumb reaches down to gently start making circles on my clit. I throw my head back, panting with my eyes squeezed shut. My back arches and Joel uses one of his hands to pin my hips down.

He slides further down the bed and slips two fingers inside me while his thumb continues to circle my clit. I moan quietly at the new feeling. His fingers are thick. It burns softly as my body stretches to welcome him further, but it’s not enough. I need all of him.

“C’mon baby. C’mon, give it to me.” He says, sending a shock through my whole body as his fingers start to thrust into me harder and faster.

I can feel my climax building. His fingers hurt a spot inside me that causes me to see stars. I bite my lip so hard that I can taste blood. The hands on my hip grips me tighter to keep my ass against the mattress. I climb higher and higher until I break.

I whimper Joel’s name as I come, his eyes never leaving my face while he continues to thrust his fingers in and out of my throbbing pussy. When my orgasm finishes he stops for a brief moment to wrap his arms around my thighs. He pulls his mouth to my core, his breath fanning over my sensitive pussy before he begins licking through my folds.

I thrash underneath him, still sensitive from my orgasm, while he holds me still with his hands on my thighs. He sucks on my clit and then releases it with a pop.

“Knew you’d taste so good,” he groans. He kisses my thigh and immediately goes back to my core.

He thrusts his tongue inside me, swirling his tongue around then going back to sucking on my clit. My fingers card into his hair. One of his hands lets go of my thigh to bring his fingers back to my pussy. I pull on his curls as he slides three fingers inside, immediately finding the spot that makes my toes curl.

He smiles and hums against my clit as my pussy clenches around his fingers. I can already feel my next orgasm building.

“Joel, fuck. Joel.” I chant his name as I feel the edge approach. He moves his fingers faster, his tongue moving in quick motions over my clit as well. When my second orgasm washes over me I rush to cover my mouth to muffle my screams.

He continues lapping my juices as I come down, twitching from the sensitivity. When he’s satisfied he moves back up the bed to my lips and kisses me again. His beard is slick with me and I can taste myself in his tongue.

“You ready for me baby?” He asks when he finally manages to pull his lips off mine. I nod, quickly grabbing a condom out of the nightstand drawer and handing it to him. I need him.

Joel tears the foil open and rolls the condom down his length. Then he reaches down and rubs his cock through my folds. I gasp, tilting my hips against him. He smiles as he rubs the tip against my clit. He notches himself at my entrance and I whimper.

“Please, Joel, I can't wait any longer. I need you, plea-“ he slowly begins to sink into me. “Joel!”

I moan loudly as his cock stretches me open. He moves a hand up to my mouth to stifle my moans, grunting himself as he bottoms out. He is so deep inside me. I’m not sure if I’ve been with anyone as big as Joel before. He pauses once his hips are flush with mine. He reaches down as kisses me as my pussy throbs around him, and then he slowly pulls out almost completely. The breath is forced out of my lungs when he slams back into me.

He sets a steady pace, his cock hitting my g-spot with each thrust. I can already feel the next orgasm building as I focus on his grunts. So good. So good.

Joel moves his thumb down to my clit again. He moves it in small circles as he thrusts into me. My nails rake down his back, sure to leave marks behind, but it just stirs him on.

“That’s it baby, fuck! You gonna come again? You gonna come on my cock?” He asks. I’m dangling over the edge again. I moan out as he thrusts harder.

“Yes Joel, fuck. You feel so good. So fucking good inside me. Fuck! I’m going to come. I’m going to come again.”

My pussy clenches and then I let go, Joel moving his head to bite into my shoulder to keep himself from shouting out while I clench around him. When my orgasm subsides Joel pulls all the way out and flips me around on the bed.

“Hands and knees sweetheart,” he directs. I do as he says, spreading my knees apart for him. He groans as he looks at my glistening folds and then quickly pushes himself back inside me. “Fuck, you’re so good baby. Feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock like that.”

He wraps my hair around his fist and pounds into me hard. Each thrust has his hips slamming into my ass. I’m starting to feel weak after my three orgasms, shaking slightly as my hands try to keep my upper body off the mattress.

A familiar tightening begins in my core. I didn’t know it was possible to orgasm this much in one night, but my next one starts building again. Joel is close too, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he moans more. He leans down to press his chest against my back while continuing his thrusts.

“One more sweet girl,” he whispers in my ear. “Been doing so good for me. Give me one more and then I’ll let go.”

I whimper as I get closer, my fists baking the sheets up tightly as he continues to slam his hips into me. He moves his chest off my back and pulls my hair again which immediately sends me over the edge. My arms collapse and I cry out as the pleasure takes over.

“Good girl, fuck, perfect. You’re perfect.” Joel grunts. He slams his hips into mine once, twice, and then he spills into the condom.

He groans as he lets go, one hand gripping my hips tightly while the other stays tangled in my hair. His body twitches against mine for a couple of minutes until he pulls out, tying the condom and throwing it away. I stay laying on the bed while he slips his boxers on and sneaks across the hall to the bathroom. When he comes back he has a warm washcloth. He gently cleans between my thighs and puts the cloth in the laundry bin before returning to bed.

I immediately wrap a leg around him and put my head on his chest while he lies down. Instinctively, he wraps his arms around me to pull me close.

“If you want to keep this secret I can’t stay all night,” Joel whispers into my hair.

“I know, just a little longer.” I respond. He kisses the top of my head and we rest, listening to the soft sounds of each other's breath until I hear Joel drift into sleep.

—

I watch the clock with bleary eyes as Joel’s chest rises and lowers under my head. He can’t stay all night, despite how much I want him to, so I stay awake.

I memorize the feeling of his hand on my hip, and the rush waving through my hair with each exhale. I draw patterns on his bare chest with my fingertips, lingering on the raised scar tissue in places. I trace the outlines of his sleeping face in my mind, so tranquil. His usual worry lines fade slightly. They’re still pressed into his skin, inevitably they’ll become wrinkles some day, but they’re faint now.

At 5:30 I wake him up. I say his name softly and press gentle kisses to his skin. He stirs slowly underneath me and blinks while he tries to assess his surroundings. His arms instinctively pull me closer to him, causing my body to melt into his.

“They’ll be up in a couple hours, you gotta go,” Joel groans. He buries his face in my hair. I find myself debating if it really would be that bad if they found out. For all we know Sarah and Ellie could love the idea, but now is probably not the time to test that theory.

He presses a kiss to my forehead before he pulls away and sits up. He stretches out his body, grunting at the effort. I slide off the bed and grab his flannel from the floor. Joel watches me put it on with a big smile on his face.

“What?” I ask, blushing. His eyes moved slowly from his oversized flannel hanging on my shoulders to my bare legs underneath.

“Nothin’” he responds, the twang in his voice more evident when combined with the deep tone of his morning voice. “You just look beautiful is all.”

He slips on his boxers and jeans then pulls his socks and shoes back on as well. Before he walks down the hallway I peek into Ellie’s room. Both her and Sarah are still fast asleep, their heads pressed together as they share Ellie’s bed.

Joel looks in on them over my shoulder and then I quietly close the bedroom door. I hold his hand as I sneak him across the hallway and down the stairs. I feel like a teenager again, sneaking my boyfriend down the stairs before my parents can notice.

He lingers at the front door, gripping my jaw and pulling me in for another kiss. His other hand grips my hip over the top of his flannel and pulls me close to him. I tangle my fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.

When we separate he kisses my forehead one more time and walks out the door. I stay on the doorstep and watch his truck pull away, Joel stopping to wave at me before he makes his way out of the neighborhood.

I try to get some sleep afterward, but I end up just tossing and turning in bed while smiling like an idiot. I look at the click on my nightstand and decide I probably still have a bit of time before Ellie wakes up. I take a deep breath of Joel’s scent in the flannel, taking it off to change into my painting clothes.

I check Ellie’s bedroom door one more time before I slip into our parents’ room. The floor crinkles when I step onto the paper I placed on the hardwood in order to protect it from any paint splatter. I pick up supplies and start a new canvas, absentmindedly stroking my brush across the empty space.

I mix different shades of pink, purple, and blue to create a sunrise, but each color also morphs into the shape of him. The dark brown mountain tops shift into the waves of his hair. The golden peach color of the sky adding highlights to his skin. I lose track of everything but the details of the paint until I hear the sound of a knock at the bedroom door. Shit.

I shift the painting out of view from the door and put my supplies back on the dresser. Ellie is standing at the door when I open it. She looks at me confused before she peers into the room behind me.

“I’m so sorry,” I say. I try to leave the room and close the door, but Ellie grabs it from me and opens it wider.

“What are you?” I stand aside so she can see I haven’t moved any of the furniture. She pinches her eyebrows together and looks at the canvases I have laying around the space.

“Nothing, I’ve just been getting back into painting again and I needed some space,” Ellie walks inside while I stand in the hallway. “I know I should’ve told you first. This was their room and it was off limits. If you’re not comfortable with it I can totally move my stuff out.”

Ellie makes her way around the room, looking at the different paintings I have leaning against the walls. It’s not a large collection, but I’ve managed to get a couple done over the last week. She stops in front of the first painting I completed.

It’s a meadow. Wildflowers bloom in the foreground while two girls play in the distance behind them with the evening sun setting under the mountains. Ellie leans in closer to see the faces of the girls, recognizing them as her and I.

“These are really good,” Ellie says with a smile on her face.

I look at the paintings as well. I don’t like to brag, but I truly do feel like this is some of the best work I’ve ever done. I can visibly see the emotion on every canvas. Each piece tells a story. I’ve painted great art before, but there’s a level of vulnerability to these pieces I’ve never attempted before.

“Thank you,” I respond.

I watch Ellie run her hand across the dresser next. She walks to mom’s closet and holds One of her shirts in her hands as it hangs off the hanger.

“She would’ve loved that you’re painting in here.” Ellie says with her back to me.

Ellie walks back to the painting of her and I. I move to be next to her, both of us focused on the painting. The version of us on the canvas are the girls who don’t yet know tragedy. They dance in a meadow of wildflowers with nothing holding them back. They are girls, they are sisters, they are free to live and love without limits.

“I think it’s okay. This space was meant to be lived in.” Ellie says. I bite my lip and nod. “They’re not coming back.”

Ellie turns to me, my eyes watering a bit as I fight tears. I can’t tell if it was a question, or a statement, but she doesn’t wait for my response.

“It’s time for us to move on I think.” She says. A couple of her own tears slip from her eyes. I reach over and wrap her in a hug. She squeezes me tight as she hugs me back.

“When did you get to be so smart?” I laugh, tears escaping my eyes as well. Ellie’s bedroom door opens and Sarah makes her way across the hall.

Ellie and I both let go, quickly drying our eyes before Sarah can notice. She looks at the art around the room as well.

“Wow, this is so cool! You painted all these?” Sarah asks.

She looks at the one I was just working on. I hold in my breath, hoping she doesn’t notice the similarity to her father. She doesn’t mention anything.

“Yeah, I’ve been getting back into it.” I respond. She moves over to the painting where Ellie and I stand.

“You’re really good.” I thank her. It’s actually kind of exciting to see their reactions to my paintings. It feels as though I’ve regained a piece of me.

The girls look at the different paintings, commenting on the colors I used and debating on what is happening in each one. They both ask me if I can show them how to paint which I happily agree to, it’ll be nice to share something with them the way our mom shared it with me.

When the girls are done assessing my work we go downstairs for breakfast. The girls hurry downstairs to start pulling out the ingredients for blueberry pancakes. I open the bedroom curtains before I go, letting the sunlight enter the room one more. When I leave the room, I keep the door open.

To read more visit a03.

157 notes · View notes

imagine-that-100 · 11 months

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Will We Talk? | Part 1 |

Description: Alex Turner x Reader | Being Katie Cook’s best friend means you see a lot of a certain band, so it’s too bad that the lead singer can’t seem to stand being in your presence. You’re all too aware that you get chatty when you’re anxious, and despite being around each other for a decade, Alex still makes your heart race (and not in a good way). But then he asks a question you never expected to hear, and it changes everything: “Do I make you nervous?”

Word Count: 13.2k

A/N: Well hello there besties! Alex stannies your time has come again because I’m back and this short series is going to be soooo much fun! This was inspired by a harry fic I read many moons ago and I just knew I needed to do a grumpy Alex fic. I started writing this fic on the 15th of December 2021 so it’s been a long time coming. That being said part 2 isn’t yet finished (blame @nriacc lol) but I felt we all needed a new Alex ficccc! Big thank you to the author of the harry fic for the inspiration, and to @red---moon and @alovesreading for helping me/ keeping me inspired for this one. I would loveeee to know what you all think so please give me your reactions! Just keep an eye out for the time jumps, it goes back and forth quite a bit but I hope it makes sense. Thanks a million for reading, hope you enjoy x

| My Masterlist |

~*~*~*~ 29th June 2018 ~*~*~*~

Just do it Y/N. Be polite, stop being a child.

Internally, you’re debating pretending that you don’t need another drink and to go back to Katie and Kelly without a new one so you don’t have to suffer what’s bound to be another awful encounter. Alex is standing at the busy bar with his drink in his hand, and you’d think that after 8 years of knowing someone you’d feel comfortable enough to have a chat with them at their best mates birthday party. But no. Not with Alex.

He might just be the grumpiest person you’ve ever met. He’d never once started a conversation with you, it’s always been you making the effort with him since the day you met him.

Truthfully, your tendency to talk a lot more than you should when you’re nervous probably hasn’t helped that. You’d seen interviews of him over the years and it’s clear that he really didn’t like talking to anyone who he wasn’t close to. And you’re not stupid, just because Katie is your best friend doesn’t mean that you’re someone he has to converse with.

Of course over the years you’d seen each other a lot but you’d only had a handful of conversations with him. Frighteningly few of those conversations were just between the two of you, and you were happy with things staying like that.

But this time you’re going to have to brave it. You’d promised Katie you’d grab her another drink along with getting yourself a new one.

The bar is fairly busy with a few people standing around chatting as they wait for their drinks. A few people have been standing there for the majority of the evening in this decently sized function room.

Of course for Jamie’s birthday, and with the band being back off tour for a short break, Katie had thrown her husband an early birthday party because she’s the best wife possibly ever. You’d helped her plan it and sort everything out so she didn’t get too stressed like any best friend would do and you’re so glad everything has gone to plan and Jamie seems to be having a great night.

Equally, you’ve been having a great night too. Getting to see everyone again is fun. You’d not seen Miles for a while nor had you really seen any of the band because they’d been on tour but each time you saw them it was like no time had passed. Miles has always been your favourite to chat to, you think because the both of you are just as chatty as the other so you always feel at ease around him.

You’ve always had a tendency to talk someone's ear off and even more when you’re drinking or nervous. So tonight with you being both tipsy and nervous about seeing Alex standing at the bar, inconveniently for you the only free space being one beside him, you don’t want to go over.

But you need another drink.

Just fucking do it Y/N.

Taking a deep breath you bite the bullet and head over to the empty space at the bar. You’re hoping that you’ll get served immediately but by the looks of the bar staff looking around like headless chickens, you don’t think your prayers have been answered.

Reaching the bar, you put your empty glass back down on the sturdy wooden surface and wait patiently for the bartenders to serve you.

“Hey.” You greet Alex as you turn to face him.

You smile once his eyes meet yours and you see the flicker of recognition in them. You expect a smile or something along those lines from someone you’ve known for almost a decade but no.

All you get from Alex though is a quick, “Hi.” before he glances back towards the rest of the party.

After a second of silence, you have to ask, “How are you?”

“Yeah, good thanks.” Alex smiles before taking a sip of his drink and looking away from you as if he’s searching for someone else to talk to.

Wow, great chat. Why do you actually still bother Y/N?

You make eye contact again and you can feel the tightness in your chest building as if storing up all the shitty conversations you want to blurt out to get rid of the silence. But you also don’t want to annoy him. So you don’t mention anything about the goatee that he’s grown since the last time you saw him. You want to be nice and complement him but you seriously don’t think you can survive the awkwardness of you doing that.

Thankfully you don’t have to think about it for much longer because someone else caught his attention.

Alex’s eyes flicked from yours to someone coming up behind you and you hear a male voice excitedly saying, “Alex, hey!”

A grin comes to the singer's lips then and you watch him as he enthusiastically asks, “Hey man, you alright?”

You've never seen the guy who’s taken Alex's attention before but it seems like they are friends. From Alex’s smile and the way they just shook hands you assume they must be, “Yeah good thanks, where’ve you all come back from?”

“Middle of the month we were in the States, then we went Germany, and we flew back from Denmark yesterday.” Alex explains enthusiastically and you can only imagine him ever being that engaged in a conversation you had with him.

“Christ, and you’re here now.” The guy shakes his head in disbelief, “I don’t know how you do it.”

You tune out of their conversation then and glance back at the bar. You really want your drinks so you can leave before the guy leaves and it gets awkward again.

It’s not that you want to be his best mate or anything close to that, you’d just love not to feel nervous around him all the time. In the beginning the nerves were probably due to you being a fan of the music and you’d never met him before.

Jamie was the most normal person so you didn’t quite believe Katie when she first told you that her boyfriend at the time was in Arctic Monkeys. But then you met him and clearly found she was telling the truth.

You’d met all the band by the end of the year and you got on well with them at various after parties that Katie had dragged you along to in your mid twenties. But Alex has always been quiet and marginally grumpy with you since day one.

Probably your nervous chatter that did it the first time considering he said ‘hi’ to you and nothing else. He just listened to you rambling on until he was pulled away by someone much more important than yourself.

But over the years you got to know him, even if it wasn’t directly through him.

Katie fed you all of her gossip as she thinks of you as her most trusted confidant so when someone in the band annoys her and she can’t show how annoyed she is to Jamie, she’ll have you over for a wine night. So you’re aware of everything that’s just happened between him and Taylor and a certain french bitch.

If he hadn’t have left the French bitch as what she was, a stupid fucking fling, you think Katie may have killed him. She was really close with Taylor and after finding out about the cheating she was round at your house for days trying to yell all her anger away. Obviously she didn’t want to make things more awkward by airing her current murderous feelings towards Alex to Jamie so you’re the one who heard it all.

Of course you disapprove of what he did too. But it’s not your place to have an opinion. You’re just there for Katie. But you have to admit, for Alex’s sake, you’re glad he just left the French girl. Katie would have murdered him if he started seeing her as something more.

You’re brought out of your thoughts by the guy who was talking to Alex accidently bumping your shoulder as he was turning round to head back to whoever he was with. After he apologised and you promised him it was fine, back comes the uncomfortable silence that hangs between you and Alex.

He makes eye contact with you again as he sips on his drink, the smile previous on his lips now gone, and you can feel that you’re about to start nervously chatting to him. So you’re eternally grateful for the voice from behind the bar.

“Hi,” The bartender grabs your attention, “What can I get you?”

Thank you, God.

“Can I get two Amarettos on ice please?” You ask for two of your own drink because you don’t want to come back over if the grumpy fucker beside you is still over here.

The bartender preps the glasses and adds ice before he grabs the bottle of Disaronno and the double ended measure before asking, “Singles or doubles?”

“Doubles please.” You smile and watch as he pours them.

You’re glad he isn’t stingy with his measures because you don’t want to come back for a while, and after pushing the drinks towards you, the bartender asks, “Anything else?”

Smiling, you politely ask, “Can I get a large glass of Montepulciano please?”

“Yeah sure…” You watch as the guy looks around for a second and you know from his irritated expression what’s coming before he even says it. “I’m just going to grab another bottle from the cellar, I’ll be just a minute.”

You smile, “Okay, thank you.” as you can’t even change which wine you’re after because he’s already gone. You feel bad as the guy disappears off but you can feel the nerves bubbling back up inside you.

The silence falls once again, and despite the room being busy and there being a lot of people-watching you could do, you feel like because you’ve known Alex for so long you should be trying to converse with him. You really wish you didn’t care about uncomfortable atmospheres but you can’t really help but avoid it with Alex, you wish you could get over it.

Both of you are awkwardly standing beside each other once more with nothing to say and you can’t stand the stiff air between the both of you. So you end up doing what you do best when tipsy and nervous: You talk.

“I know you don’t like me very much, but I really rate your music and I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.” You begin to nervously digress looking Alex straight in the eye, needing to get rid of the silence between you. You hesitate before oversharing, “I say that, but it took me a long while to get into your new album but I like it now. Think it’s the one I listen to most actually.”

“Right, thanks.” Alex nods, before adding in a little confusion, “At least, I think that was a compliment.”

“Yeah it was.” You nod, your mouth unable to stop from rambling now. “I know my opinion means fuck all in the grand scheme of things but I just thought ‘give credit where it’s due’, right?”

Stop talking Y/N/N, you’re embarrassing yourself.

“Right.” Alex smiles at you, but you can’t help but feel a little stupid under his gaze.

You’ve told Jamie time and time again how you felt about his music, but never once have you felt this awkward about it. It really is just a reaction to Alex at this point because you could tell he just doesn't want to know.

However, just as he looks like he’s about to say something else, probably him finally telling you to leave him alone, you’re saved from whatever it was. Whilst your blundering conversation took place the bartender had returned and had poured Katie’s glass of red and it’s ready and waiting just in front of you.

“That comes to twenty-two all together, please.” The bar man asks and you happily give him your undivided attention as you take a £20 and a £5 note from your purse and hand it over.

“Keep the change.” You smile at the bartender who looks pleased with the tip you’d just given and as you pick up your alcohol carefully you glance back to Alex who’s clearly only watching you because there’s no one else around taking up his time.

He probably wants you to get a move on so he can chat to someone who actually peaks his interest. You half smile at him as you politely say, “Can’t keep the birthday boy’s wife waiting for her drink any longer. See you later.”

“See ya Y/N.” He nods, sounding just as disinterested as when you started the conversation.

Christ. Get me out of here.

Thankfully for the rest of the night Alex is easily avoidable. Most people want his attention all the time so even if he joins a conversation that you’re involved in, he gets ripped away from it.

Miles keeps you entertained for a good portion of the evening, both of you chatting more as you drink more and more. Closer to the end of the night, Jamie gets up and does a speech thanking everyone for coming and that’s when Alex comes up beside you and Miles.

You just about hear him say to Miles that he’s just paid for a drink for him at the bar and for him to go and choose what he wants and then once again, Alex is left standing beside you with a full beer in his hand as you both listen to Jamie’s short and sweet speech.

Obviously, the guitarist brings up his lovely wife and thanks her for everything. Jamie gives Katie a stunning bunch of flowers which you can instantly tell that she loves, but as he hands the microphone over to her, Alex grabs your attention.

“Why do you think I don’t like you?” You're shocked as you hear that question fall from his lips, but you don’t hesitate to be honest with him.

You’re a little taken aback if you’re honest. He may as well have just shouted it at you because you’re genuinely that shocked by the question despite his voice being just above a whisper.

“Erm,” You swirl your drink around the glass before looking up into his brown eyes, “You never say more than a few words to me whenever I see you.”

Jesus, this is fucking awkward.

You see him frown a little then though, and after a second's thought, he asks, “That makes you think I don’t like you?”

“Well, it doesn’t make me think that you’re overly fond of having a conversation with me.” You say with a little chuckle of disbelief as to why you had to say it outloud. “And you’ve never tried to get to know me like the rest of your friends have and whenever I try with you, I don’t get much of a response.”

“Never intended for it to come across like that.” Alex tells you, and he does look like he feels bad, but it’s not like you’re holding it against him. So you don’t need his, “Sorry.”

All your brain is telling you right now is ‘Avoid confrontation at all costs’. You’re really not equipped to have that conversation with him drunk but you did tell him the truth.

“Don’t be.” You shake your head before looking back at Katie, “It is what it is.”

You can still feel his eyes on you and you’re half sure you hear him say the start of your name but your attention is clearly ripped away from him when Katie say’s your name down the microphone.

“Y/N,” She grins at you gesturing for you to come to her, and you see Jamie now holding a bunch of flowers that turns out to be for you, “Couldn’t have done this without you Hun. I had to get you these.”

You shake your head and go over to thank and hug her, leaving Alex watching after you. He just stays in his head and drinks his drink, silently processing your previous words.

~*~*~*~ January 26th 2018 ~*~*~*~

“Hey!” Jamie shouts as he runs through the front door and quickly starts routing around for whatever it is he’s looking for.

Katie says a surprised, “Hi?” and you can see and hear the distaste that he’s back so early.

Tonight Katie had invited you round once Forrest had gone to bed because Jamie was meant to be out for the evening with the lads. She needed a wind down after a long week of work and looking after her toddler whilst Jamie was away doing PR for the new album.

You’re both half way through your first bottle of red wine as Jamie now comes scurrying into the lounge, almost frantically searching around for something. You find it quite funny too because he definitely hadn’t noticed you sitting in his lounge.

That changes a second later when comes towards you and pulls out the messy drawer on the side table just near you. He smiles quickly, “Hey Y/N, good to see you.”

“And you Jamie” You grin, seeing his wife still waiting for him to announce why he’s intruded on your night in.

After scurrying around the lounge, clearly trying to find whatever it is he’s lost, she asks, “What are you doing back here?”

“I forgot my wallet.”

You’re desperately trying not to laugh at Katie’s silent sigh, or when she lets out an annoyed, “You left the door open J.”

You look towards their door and you can see it’s half open, letting all the precious heat inside their cosy house out. The winter air is absolutely freezing and it’s causing a draft that both you and Katie can feel without coats on.

“Al, you tosser!” Jamie shouts as he continues looking around for his wallet, “Don't wait outside come and help me find it, you prick!”

You can almost hear Alex’s sigh as he steps into the house, “Not my fault you left it here.”

“Alex, please come in and shut the door.” Katie waves him in from her seat, “It’s fucking freezing.”

He sighs a little as he says, “Yes, Miss Cook.” before closing the door and walking into the house with his coat wrapped tightly around him.

He looks like he doesn’t want to be out of his own space, let alone be here. He’s not smiling like he usually is when he sees Katie and he’s practically rolling his eyes watching Jamie run around like a headless chicken.

“Ignore him. He didn’t want to come out at all.” Jamie shakes his head as he walks around the lounge and back around the corner to the hall where he came in and heads past Alex and up the stairs.

Katie continues talking to you about your previous conversation and Alex just stands under the open arch between the hall and the lounge. Or that is until you all hear a loud bang come from upstairs.

A few seconds later all of you hear Jamie make another loud bang and Katie inhales sharply through her nose. Annoyance is bubbling through her system when you all hear him say “Shit.” from upstairs, clearly very loudly.

“He better shut the fuck up or he’s going to wake Forrest up.” Katie looks at you with a death glare that’s definitely meant for her husband.

Katie gets herself up from her seat opposite you and walks past Alex to half mute her voice as she yells, “Jamie!”

“Don’t mind me,” She looks from Alex back to you as she half smiles, “I'm just gonna go kill my husband.”

Alex chuckles at that and you let out a little giggle before taking another sip of your wine as you hear your best friend walk up the stairs. That leaves a silence between you and Alex and one that you’re itching to fill. You hate that it’s always awkward between you both.

After taking another sip of your wine, you politely ask, “How are you?”

“Good, thank you.” Alex nods, walking towards the wood burning fireplace that Katie was lighting when you arrived.

You debate mentioning that his hair is a lot longer since the last time you saw him, but you decide not to. The last thing you want is to make anything more awkward, so you go for something that he’s used to talking a bit more about.

“You enjoying the build up to the album release?” You ask, praying the conversation will being to flow a little easier.

But all you get is a half hearted, “Yeah. It’s been alright so far.” as he crouches by the fire and puts another piece of wood onto it.

“Good good.” You smile despite him not even looking your way.

… And nothing. No follow up question about you, not even a smile.

You’re sure he hates you. There’s absolutely no other possible explanation for why he would make things this uncomfortable for you both if he didn’t. You can’t stand uncomfortable silences which makes you more nervous and the need to chat takes over again.

You’d think that someone who does interviews for a living would know how to make people feel comfortable and you know for a fact that he does. You’ve seen a fair few in your time being their friend, and you’d seen Alex interact with his friends and his fans. You have no idea why he makes life so awkward for you.

You try again, hoping to ease your awkwardness by asking him about something he enjoys.

“How did you find writing this one?” Is the only thing you can come up with that you’re genuinely curious about, “I think Jamie mentioned that you got writer's block or something for a while, is that true or was he bullshitting me? Because you’ve always seemed to write and record really quickly from an outsider's perspective.”

“Yeah,” Alex nods with a sigh, still not even glancing at you, making you wish you never asked, “Was difficult at the beginning, got there in the end.”

Wow.

Amazing.

Enthralling story.

Taking another sip of your drink, the uncomfortable tension feels like it's suffocating you and you’ll do literally anything to ease it. Blabbing on about where they are going seems to be the direction you take.

“Where are you being dragged out tonight? Just to the George and Dragon,” which is about a 2 minute walk from here, “Or are you going into town?”

“Heading into town I think.” Alex stands himself back up and tucks his hands back into his pockets, glancing at you as he walks back to the centre of the lounge.

After taking a sip of your wine, you politely ask, “Anywhere nice?”

“No idea.” He shakes his head.

Smiling, you try to make light of the situation. “You really don’t wanna go, do you?”

“No,” Alex shakes his head, and says under his breath probably not meaning for you to hear, but you do, “I don’t even want to be here.”

To you that’s another way of saying shut the fuck up. Biting your tongue after that is difficult, but it's easier than letting him make you feel like shit again.

After drinking your last mouthful of wine, you get yourself up and out of this uncomfortable situation. You don’t bother telling him where you’re going as you doubt he cares but you’re just thankful that you don’t have to deal with him anymore.

Disappearing to the Cook’s downstairs toilet, you’re glad when you hear Jamie race down the stairs a minute or two later, shouting, “Right Al, come on. Let’s go.”

As you open the door and make your way back round to the hall, you hear Jamie say bye to Katie, followed by Alex politely saying goodbye to Katie. He gives her a hug and his eyes make contact with yours as he slips out, not even nodding a ‘bye’ as he leaves, closing the front door behind him.

“Hiding again?” Katie turns to grin at you, knowing just how uncomfortable you find interactions with Alex after years of the same behaviour.

“He’s so awkward.” You nod laughing, but you’ve got better things to be thinking about tonight. “Come on babes, I need another glass of wine.”

Thank fuck for that.

~*~*~*~ 21st September 2018 ~*~*~*~

“Y/N, Hey!”

“Jamieee.” You grin, walking towards his open arms so you can give him a hug.

You walk into his arms and you appreciate the tight hold he traps you in. As you give him a squeeze, the guitarist says, “Missed seeing you in my house.”

You can’t help but chuckle a little at that. After greeting Nick and Kelly as you walked in with Katie, you couldn’t wait to see Jamie backstage tonight. Matt unfortunately doesn’t seem to be around this communal area just yet but you're grateful for the lead singer's absence.

“Ahh well, I've been there more than you.” You tease him, his tour has been so long it feels like forever since you last saw him, “I’ll be sleeping in your bed next.”

“Surprised you don’t some nights,” Jamie laughs as he releases you from the embrace, “You’re both piss heads.”

You can’t help but laugh and nod. You just end up shrugging, “Well, red wine calls us both.”

Both you and Katie can’t help it. You’re just living your best lives and the wine nights you share are the highlight of your week.

“Thanks for inviting me tonight.” You grin at Jamie.

You’re actually thrilled you’ve been invited to their gig tonight. Them being back home in Sheffield must be awesome for them and the fact that they have four shows back to back at the FlyDSA arena makes you happy too. It’s a proper homecoming. And after a stressful week this is definitely what you needed to let loose a bit.

“Oh, I’m not the one that you need to thank.” Jamie smiles and you think nothing of it, assuming Katie’s told him you have to come.

She usually does that when she’s invited somewhere anyway. She really likes taking you out with her and sometimes out of your comfort zone.

Katie calls you over to the fridge in the communal area where she asks you what you want to start the night off with. You’re shocked as to how much alcohol is in the fridge, there’s got to be at least 30 cans of beer and there’s also wine in there. Bottles of red are left on the side beside it too.

“Fucking hell, I can’t believe they get this much stuff every night.” Your eyes go a little wide seeing the fridge.

Katie laughs at that, “I know they are greedy, I’ll have a route to see what there is.”

You watch her astounded at just how much alcohol is in there. But your attention moves to the scouser who’s just walked through the door.

“Y/N.” Miles calls your name from across the room and you grin when you turn to see him.

“Course they had you come for their home shows.” You laugh, throwing your arms around him.

You adore Miles. He’s been a good friend for a long time and you feel really comfortable around him. Unlike his best friend, Miles seems to listen to what you have to say and he’s interested in it.

It meant that you’d been close for a long while and he always makes an effort to check in with you every month which you love him for. He’s honestly such a good person and you think the world of him.

“I’ve been here the past two days and I’ve been asking for you.” Miles informs you, “I was going to text you but Katie said you were busy?”

“Yeah sorry, I’ve had some planning to do for work and had to see family the last few days.” You shake your head, not wanting to think about all that right now. You grin at Miles, clearing your head, “So glad to be here now.”

“Ooo Y/N/N,” Katie gets your attention and she has a big grin on her face as she tells you, “There's a full bottle of Amaretto in here. Not seen this before.”

“Oooo amazing.” You grin, selfishly loving the fact you won’t have to pay for your own drinks until the after party later.

Miles traps you in another conversation whilst Katie makes you your drink. Before she pours your drink though, she can’t help but wonder why the bottle is there in the first place.

“J?” Katie calls her husband over and when he’s standing beside her, she asks him, “When did you add this to your rider?”

“I didn’t know we did.” Jamie frowns in confusion looking at the bottle of Disaronno. He knows no one in the band drinks it so he asks his wife, “Why? Who drinks it?”

“Y/N does.” Katie tells him, ”It's her favourite.”

“Well, happy days then.” Jamie smiles and shrugs it off, thinking nothing of it.

Drinks flow for a while after that. Now you’ve had two glasses of your favourite, you really feel like it’s a Friday night and you can finally have a bit of fun.

That thought slowly dies though when Alex comes into the room with Matt in tow. You’d seen him a few times since the night you couldn’t get an Uber home from the Cook’s house and he walked you home but he still wasn’t all that chatty with you.

It was a little easier but you were still the one making all the effort and actively trying to make conversation with him. You can’t imagine anything different happening tonight, christ, you’ve still not mentioned to him that you like his new buzzcut.

In fact, you imagine he’ll be a little worse because he’s got everyone who he wants around him and you’re just Katie’s plus one. Thankfully you’re distracted for a minute by the bubbly man that is Matt Helders.

He’s a gooden too. You do love him but you can’t lie, he made a questionable decision with his love life. Why anyone would leave Breana you have no idea.

Like Katie’s rants about Alex doing the dirty on Taylor, you heard the same rants for her about Matt cheating on Breana. Once again, it wasn’t really your place to have an opinion so you just let her rant at you.

But Matt had always been lovely to you, so obviously you wouldn’t bring the things you heard about him into your dynamic. You chat to the drummer for a few minutes and he makes you laugh countless times at how tipsy he is.

You genuinely don’t know how he can perform for two hours when he’s like this before. But you can’t blame him, and he seems to be having fun and you know he’ll put on a good show.

Matt wonders off to grab himself another drink leaving you alone at the side of the now busy room. But you don’t mind people watching, it’s quite a good pass time for someone like you who doesn’t like awkward encounters. Anything to keep you from rambling on like you always do when you’re drunk and nervous.

Your eyes mostly roam over the people you don’t know, you find them more interesting to try and figure out. Guess which members of the band they know and how they’re friends.

But your people watching hobby fucks you over royally. As you eyes glance over at who Alex is chatting too, the singer's eyes connect with yours and you avert your gaze immediately.

You honestly just can’t deal with the awkwardness today. You need more alcohol to deal with that. Being drunk was the only reason you survived that walk home with him.

But turns out you’re not so lucky, because when you glance back, Alex is on his way over to you which almost makes you spit your drink out. What the fuck?

Miles, your absolute saviour, runs into his best friend though and wraps him into a hug which you can’t help but laugh at. He kisses his cheek which makes Alex laugh and the smile lingers on his face after Miles tells him whatever it is he needs to tell him.

They chat for a minute and you just find yourself watching them. They chat so easily. It really makes you wonder what you’ve done to piss Alex off so much that it seems like he couldn’t care less if you were in the room with him or not.

If you had to bet, it would be your nervous rambling. But that’s not your fault. That’s your shyness taking over and your hatred of awkward silences.

Your jaw almost falls open though when Alex smiles at you from over Miles shoulder, and even more so when he moves around his best mate as greets you, “Hey Y/N.”

“Hey,” You say, a little surprised that he’s stopped his conversation with Miles to come over.

“How’ve you been?” He asks, which makes you want to pinch yourself.

Did he really just ask me how I was before I asked him?

You just about manage to smile as you say, “Yeah I’m great, how are you?”

“Good thanks, excited for the gig.” The singer smiles, and you can’t help but find it unnerving that he’s giving you his undivided attention. Alex follows up like he’s curious, “I didn’t think you were coming to any shows?”

“Oh no.” You shake your head, thinking Katie must have forgotten to tell the lads she invited you. “What's better than a gig, right?”

“Right.” Alex smiles, and it shocks you because it actually seems genuine, “Glad you could make it.”

Is he drunk? Why is he talking to me? He’s glad I could make it????? What now?

You smile at each other then. But your brain is all too aware that after two seconds there’s nothing more to say. So as you try to stop yourself from getting skittish, or making it more awkward.

“You been enjoying the tour?” You ask him, but you don’t give him any time to reply because you start your nervous talking, “I’ve seen a few videos and they’ve been good. Four Out Of Five seems to really pop off. I like that one, might be my favourite off the new album actually. But I really like One Point Perspective too.”

“Good choices.” Alex chuckles and you can’t help but silently scorn yourself for being awkward.

God, you wish you could have one normal interaction with him.

“Oh,” Alex’s eyes seem to light up for a second before he tells you, “Follow me a second, got something for you.”

You frown at him, not believing what he said in the slightest. You ask in confusion, “Me?”

“Yeah.” Alex nods and turns with a gesture for you to follow him.

The shock of it is what actually makes you move. You can’t help but whisper a small, “Oh.” though.

He surely has to be drunk?

But what’s mind-boggling is that he really isn’t. On the way out Miles asked him if he wanted another drink and Alex responded yes and added ‘this is only my first, definitely need one more before I go on’.

He leads you out of the room everyone was in and around the corner to where a group of the crew guys are. There’s a quiet word exchanged with who you assume to be the main crew guy and you watch from behind Alex as the guy nods at him and a second later he hands the lead singer something.

You shake your head as soon as you see Alex turn back to you and hold up the AAA pass that’s hanging from the lanyard he’s trying to give you.

“Oh Alex, I don't need that.” You shake your head, “I like watching from the arena.”

Half of them in that room watch from a box which is where you expected to be watching from. It’s no issue to you where you are in the arena, it’s nice enough you were invited by Katie to come tonight for free. Christ knows you wouldn’t have been able to get a ticket on Ticketmaster.

“Come on,” Alex presses on, “I’ve never seen you back here.”

Because you really like watching from the arena. You’ve never been at the side of the stage and you’re not sure if you want to be. You’ll just feel like you’re in the way.

You try to argue your point, “But-”

“No buts,” Alex smiles as he puts the lanyard over your head so it falls around your neck like a necklace. The singer continues, “You can’t be leaving Katie on her own. She’s been missing you for the last two weeks. I’m sure Jamie will like you being at the side of the stage too.”

He gives your shoulders an encouraging squeeze and the smile on his face makes you believe that you’ve swapped bodies with Katie for a hot second. He’s never talked to you like this before.

“Thanks Alex.” You smile sheepishly, not really knowing what else to do other than accept in this situation, “You really didn’t have to do that.”

The singer shakes his head like he doesn’t need your thanks. He just smiles at you and says, “It's nice seeing you here.”

It goes silent for a second then between you and your mind scrambles for something to talk about so this surprisingly good interaction doesn’t take a turn for the worst. You’re thankful it’s not your rambling that ends the conversation though.

Someone from the crew a bit further down the hall shouts Alex’s name then which makes the both of you turn to look at where the voice came from. You both see someone wave and then they tap their ear at the same time they almost do the Asda Price bum tap thing.

Whatever it is goes straight over your head. But Alex seems to understand because he nods and holds up a finger telling him one minute.

“Sorry to be a pain,” Alex says as he turns back to you, “They are shouting me for something about my mic pack.”

“It’s okay.” You smile.

Alex smiles back at you, and he says, “See ya in a bit Y/N, hope you enjoy the show.”

“Always do.” You smile and as you turn back around, you say, “Break a leg.”

The singer just smiles at you and you head your separate ways.

Great. Now you just sound like a fucking suck up. Go and get another drink Y/N/N. For fucks sake.

~*~*~*~

Surprisingly, that isn’t your only interaction with Alex tonight. During the short interval between the encore, when they came off stage both Alex and Matt came over and talked to you whilst Nick and Jamie spoke to their wives.

You were tipsy at that point so you started chatting their ear off like you usually did and Matt of course entertained you, but what surprised you most is that Alex was actually smiling. He actually seemed interested in what you had to say - even if it was just nervous bullshit - and he didn’t try to look for someone else to talk to which was very surprising to you. But that was probably just because Matt was there though.

Expecting that to be it, you didn’t give the singer much thought other than that. Knowing that you’re all going into town after this with quite a lot of people settles your nervous energy. You’ll probably have Katie and Kelly to yourself for most of the night because of their men interacting with everyone who wants to speak to them.

And for the most part you’re right about that. Katie gets you drunk, to the point where you’ve had to stop drinking for about an hour so you don’t throw up in the toilets. But the party is still in full swing and you - along with everyone else - have had a nice night.

You’ve just come back from the toilet and you’re looking around for Katie who has now disappeared from the table you were previously at. Kelly had gone home a little earlier, leaving Nick here to have his fun, so you and Katie had been chatting the night away and you’ll be getting a taxi with her back home because you live a 10 minute walk away from her house.

You just take your seat back at the table you were previously sitting on and pull your phone out. The last thing you wanted to do was interrupt anyone else's conversation so you were happy waiting for Katie to find her way back to you.

Sitting there, your still tipsy mind is paying no real attention to what you’re seeing on Instagram. You do find yourself singing along to the Tame Impala song that's playing in the room which you can just about hear over the noise of the busy chattering.

“Hey,” Alex's voice startles you out of your thoughts as he comes and sits himself down next to you with a smile on his face as he asks, “You enjoy the show?”

“Hey, yeah,” You nod, taking a deep breath to stop your shocked heart from giving out. Smiling, you tell him, “Well done.”

“Thanks, Y/N.” Alex grins back at you, and he places a glass down in front of you, “Got you a drink.”

“Oh,” Your eyes go a little wide looking at the whisky glass he’s put down in front of you, “Thank you.”

You pick it up and swirl the liquid around the two ice cubes and initially you thought it was whisky like he’s currently drinking, but you notice the liquid is lighter and a little thicker. Is this your favourite liqueur?

And the singer confirms that it is your favourite drink when he must notice you glancing at your drink. He brings you out of your thoughts and you look back at him as he speaks.

“You drink Amaretto on the rocks when you’re out, right?” Alex nods down to your drink like he’s worried he got it wrong.

“Yeah, yeah.” You nod, completely baffled that he knew that about you, but you smile nonetheless, “Thank you, you didn’t have to get me that.”

Christ, what a good guess on his part.

Alex smiles, “Least I can do.”

You take a sip of the drink and you can’t help but love the taste of it. And after not drinking for an hour or so, the taste is lovely and refreshing on your tongue.

“Did you enjoy your show?” You ask to fill the silence between you.

Granted the noise in the busy room makes his absence of conversation not as bad, but you hate the awkward feeling in your chest. Talking always makes it feel better and your tipsy self can’t control what you say anyway.

“I bet you don’t hear that a lot, or I guess you might.” You ramble, “But I imagine, with performing like that, you just get a lot of people telling you that they enjoyed themselves despite you maybe not feeling it was your best or whatever.”

You notice his lip twitch up at that and you feel like you’ve just shot yourself in the foot. “Sorry, that made it sound like I’m saying you were shit. I’m not. You weren’t. I’m just saying, bet you don’t really get asked a lot. So yeah, um, sorry.”

After the singer takes another sip of his drink, he smiles, “You don’t need to apologise… Yeah, I enjoyed myself. It was probably the best night this week.”

You nod at that, taking another sip of your Amaretto before you open your mouth again, “That’s good. I guess it makes the home shows more special. Has anywhere ever beaten home shows? I imagine all the UK ones are pretty special with you all literally travelling around the world.”

“God, big question.” Alex chuckles a little, before looking at the ceiling as if the answer was written up there. He comes back with, “I think home shows are the rowdiest and loudest which is fun. I think the best ever was Glastonbury though.”

You grin, “Which one? First or second time?”

“Full of good questions.” Alex smiles before he swirls his glass around as he thinks which reminds you of something else entirely.

“Oh,” You practically giggle, which brings his attention back to you, “You make me laugh when you do that ‘losing your train of thought’ thing on stage. Wasn’t aware that an Arctic Monkeys show is actually shitty stand up comedy these days.”

“Offended you think it's shit.” Alex scoffs which makes you drunkenly giggle.

As you finish laughing you shrug and tell him, “Was better in the days that you did the kung fu fighting thing still.”

“Damn,” Alex shakes his head, “Need to step my game back up. Any other suggestions?”

You think about it for a second and you’re just about to give him a long spiel of awkward suggestions that probably should never leave your mouth. But they thankfully don’t because the most gorgeous wife in the world comes back over and grabs your attention.

“Hey Y/N,” Katie grins at you with her coat folded over her arm and she asks, “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” You nod, grabbing your coat from just beside you, “Yeah.”

As you slip your coat on and finish your drink in a quick mouthful, Alex keeps Katie entertained.

“Mrs Cook.” Alex grins, taking a sip of his beer after calling her out, “You lightweight.”

You have an amused grin on your face as she frowns at him, “Some of us have kids to look after in the morning, Turner.”

“I’m so glad I'm not you right now.” You laugh honestly.

The last thing you’d want was to be hungover and then have to get up early to deal with kids in the morning. Definitely not happening any time in your near future.

“You and me both.” Alex chuckles before he glances back at Katie. “Did you have a good night Mrs Cook.”

“Stop calling me Mrs Cook, you make me feel old.” She playfully scorns him.

“You are old.” Alex fires back just as cocky as she was, pointing out some fair points, “You’ve been married for half a decade and you have a child.”

Katie scowls at the singer then, and she fires back, “Well at least I don’t have a fucking ugly orange settee where I choose to live.”

You have to laugh at that. You’ve heard about how weird and wonderful this sofa is. You know she’s hated it ever since she’d seen it when he moved in, but Alex apparently likes how his furnished flat came. So he’s not changing it.

Alex argues back, with a look of determination, “It matches the blue walls.”

“Your flat looks like a pop art painting.” Katie fires back, narrowing her eyes at him.

“You’re just jealous because you can’t have pretty things like that because your kid will draw on it.” Alex defends himself with a grin, before adding his final joking remarks, “And you’re boring because you have your Mum brain on all the time.”

“At least she’s a milf.” You grin at her, “It’s very lucky Jamie is away so much. Get her all to myself.”

Katie burst out laughing at that and you hear Alex chuckle at you too. Not that you’ll remember any of this tomorrow, you can practically feel the memories already leaving your mind.

Christ, that one extra drink has really done you over. You feel just as drunk again. God you already don’t want the hangover tomorrow.

Katie tells you that she’s going to go and find a few people to say goodbye to and that she’ll meet you over by the door in a few minutes. So you politely ask Alex to let you up from the booth you’re in and he does so without any argument.

As you stand in front of him, the singer wonders aloud, “You’re coming tomorrow, right?”

“Oh I, um,” You don’t really know what to say other than, “I didn’t know I was invited?”

The last thing you wanted to do was be in the way again. Because god knows at some points tonight when the crew was running around you, Katie, and Kelly you felt like you were in the way. And you never want to outstay your welcome anyway.

“Course you are,” Alex tells you, and he says as if it’s obvious, “You’ve been on the guestlist all week, Y/N.”

“Oh.” You say, a little dumbfounded because you really didn’t know and his gaze still makes you feel a little uneasy.

Well if Katie had told you she’d done that for you you might have been able to come a few dates earlier. Or maybe not considering it’s still been a little awkward tonight with Alex, you’re grateful for the conversations you’ve had though.

But you won’t remember your discussions with him because you’ve had so much to drink. And tomorrow you’ll blame your hangover on Katie for more than likely asking Jamie to put the Disaronno in his rider.

“You don’t have to,” Alex backtracks a little, but it’s nonchalant and you think nothing of it anyway. He follows it up with, “Just thought that you usually spend your saturday nights with Katie and she's here anyway. You’re welcome to come again.”

How kind of him. He must have been abducted by aliens and this is a nicer clone. There's absolutely no other explanation to your tipsy mind.

“Thanks, yeah,” You nod and the singer smiles at you when you confirm, “I’ll be there.”

Because you won’t be turning down free live music or alcohol any time soon.

You glance at the door and notice Katie giving Jamie a kiss so you figure it’s time to get going yourself. You look back at Alex and he smiles knowing what you must already be thinking.

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow Y/N/N.” Alex grins and you give him a smile and a small ‘bye’ as you turn to leave.

But the singer shouts your name after you take a few steps away, so when you turn back to him, he answers your earlier question, “First time. First Glastonbury blew my mind.”

All you seem to be able to do in response to that is grin. You nod a little before saying, “See you tomorrow Alex.”

~*~*~*~ 20th August 2018 ~*~*~*~

“I want to cry, the Uber cancelled again.” Katie whines, pouting slightly as she looks out of the window at the rain.

“Just our luck for not booking a proper taxi in advance.” Jamie sighs, scorning himself for not thinking better of it earlier.

Tonight you, Katie, Jamie, and Alex had been out separately but you’d all convened back together at the Cook household so Jamie’s parents could be relieved of babysitting duties. You and Katie shared another bottle of wine and gossiped for another 2 hours whilst the boys drank their beer and chipped into the conversation now and again.

“It’s not the end of the world,” Alex tells them, “We don’t live that far away.”

“Yeah, I’ll just brave the cold.” You assure Katie, and add in a little jest using air quotes, “At least it’s ‘summer’ and not snowing.”

“But the rain.” Katie points to the window.

Yeah walking home at the end of the night in the rain can be a little shit. But it was nothing you’d not done before. Granted you were like 21 the last time you’d done that but it’s really not the end of the world.

“It’s not heavy, I'll be okay.” You promise her to try and ease her worries, “At least I’ll go home looking like a drowned rat and not the other way around.”

You grab your coat from near the door and Katie follows you saying, “You can’t walk home on your own at three am, Y/N.”

“I’ll be fine.” You tell her as you slip your shoes back on.

Alex shocks both you and Katie to your cores when he says, “I’ll walk her home.”

Katie mustn’t be able to believe her ears because she asks, “What?”

You almost laugh, because she sounds like she’s as shocked as she was when Alex walked in on your wine night with Jamie and Nick the other month and she first saw his buzzed hair cut.

“We live the same way with about five minutes between us.” Alex points out, and he looks at you and nods, “I’ll walk you home.”

So that is how you’re currently walking from the Cook’s house to your own with Alex by your side.

Since Jamie’s party when he came up to you and asked why you didn’t think he liked you, the singer had surprisingly been a little better with you. He said hello to you and he seemed to engage a little more.

He’s still quiet around you, but you’ve noticed now that he goes like that around most people he doesn’t really know that well. You guess you can’t really change that though considering whenever you start asking him questions he doesn’t really give you much of an answer.

You’ve come to terms with that thought which is why you’re biting your tongue as you walk beside him. The urge to start asking him a bunch of questions is really strong but you’d rather not have the sinking feeling in your chest when you just receive one word answers back.

To occupy yourself as you’ve been walking the past few minutes, you’ve been running over the lyrics of your favourite song in your head. Alex seems to be in his head as it is so you don’t feel too bad as you walk despite the strong urge to rid yourself of the awful silence between you.

All you really focus on is making sure the umbrella that Katie lent you keeps you dry. Alex had a coat with a hood and even when you offered to share the umbrella with him he told you it was fine and that was the last thing you said to each other.

Or that was until Alex speaks up and asks you, “Am I right in thinking you were married?”

“Yeah for four years.” You nod, glancing over at him, and chuckling a little, “If you can believe it.”

Thank fuck he spoke up. The silence was eating away at you.

Alex’s eyes go a little wide, “Really?”

The poor man probably shouldn’t have asked, because the floodgates you were holding shut have just burst open and your nervous chatter just comes out. And considering you’re drunk, there is no chance you can stop it.

“Yeah, together since we were sixteen. Married at twenty one and stayed together for four years. But we just didn’t love each other anymore. Well, not in the way that qualifies you still be married to someone.” You ramble on before continuing, “Don’t get me wrong I would be devastated if something happened to him. Touch wood nothing does. But we just lived separate lives, went to work, came back home, and went to bed. Half the time he did shifts so I never saw him.”

You carry on to explain, “My life was just boring and I thought to myself I shouldn’t be feeling bored aged twenty-five. I wanted to travel and see the world but I just got a mortgage straight away so the only travelling we ever did was when we went to Vegas and got married.”

“So I got divorced, and how sad is it that I've got to tell people I'm a thirty one year old divorcee.” You finish off with.

But then you realise who you’ve said all of that to. And that he doesn’t like chatting to you at the best of times. So he probably didn’t care about anything you just told him, or appreciated the amount of rambling you just did.

You feel the need to say, “Sorry.” and you glance at Alex as you sheepishly say, “You didn’t really ask that, did you?”

For fucks sake Y/N. A ‘yes’ would have done!

“It’s okay.” Alex assures you with a small smile.

“No, it's just me rambling when I'm drunk and nervous.” You scorn yourself, hating the uneasy feeling in your chest. Unable to understand why you do it, you still end up saying, “I’m sorry. I’m a chatty person in general and getting alcohol into my system just makes me worse. Not to mention if I'm nervous too… Can never stop me going then.”

You guess getting it off your chest and him knowing that about you may make you easier to understand. Maybe he won’t find you as annoying because the last thing you want is to annoy him. You’re close with Katie and Jamie so you’re bound to run into each other more now he’s going to be living in Sheffield.

The singer frowns a little then before looking back to you to curiously ask, “Why are you nervous?”

Because you’re the most awkward man to talk to possibly ever?!!??!??!?

Course you can’t say that though. So you give the other true reason.

“I don’t like walking home in the dark usually.” You tell him sincerely, because it does freak you out. “I don’t know, bit of an irrational fear at this point but someone followed me home when I was younger and it really freaked me out. So um yeah… Thank you for doing this.”

“It’s really not a problem Y/N/N,” He smiles at you in what seems like a genuine way then, “I wasn’t going to let you walk home alone.”

You can’t help but think that’s really kind of him considering he really doesn’t know you very well. You tell him, “You’re a gooden, Alex.”

The singer just smiles a little at that, but you can see he’s being completely genuine when he says, “Sorry that happened to you.”

You give him a small smile then, appreciating how sincerely he said it. But you don’t really want to dwell on that whilst you’re walking in the dark so you change the subject.

“Do you prefer being back in Sheffield after all your time away?”

Alex wonders in what context you’re on about, so he questions, “You mean like over tour?”

“No, I mean like from living in different places because you were in New York when I first met you. Then you were in LA and you’ve got a place over there, right?” You double check, looking to him for assurance.

Alex nods and you continue, “Then you were to and from LA and London, right? And now you decided to come and stay back home? Or do you not plan on staying now?”

And you’re pleasantly surprised at the lengthy answer he gives you.

“Oh I'm definitely staying in Sheffield now… At least for a little while after the tour is finished.” He explains, “I think I just need time back where everything is normal and familiar again. Like Miles goes and stays back home quite often and I’ve not been back here for more than two months maybe since I was twenty two… It’s a long time away and it's quite nice to just come back and feel normal.”

You understand what he’s saying completely, but you can’t help but jokingly add, “Well… As normal as you can, being the front man of Sheffield's pride and joy.”

Alex laughs a little at that which shocks you because you never expected to make him laugh. But he does remind you, “You’re forgetting about Pulp.”

“You’re forgetting Pulp haven’t released anything since 2012.” You raise your eyebrows at him as your defence.

“Fair dos,” Alex laughs a little and you take what joy you can out of the fact that you made that happen. “But yeah, I like being myself back here and I like that I’m with most of my good friends and I get to be a proper uncle to the kids over here now.”

“They talk about you all the time. It's funny.” You can’t help but grin at the thought of your little god children, “Katie blames Jamie for being gone on you so when Katie has Kelly and Nick’s kids round too they complain like ‘Why has Uncle Alex taken Dad away again?’” You mimic in a whiney voice that again makes Alex laugh.

Alex chuckles, “I need to have a word with that Mrs Cook. She’ll get me into trouble with them.”

You promise him, “It’s nothing a chocolate bar wouldn’t solve.”

“I must owe them so much chocolate.” Alex grins.

You nod and begin to slow your walking down because you’re about to reach your house, “Oh yeah, you definitely do.”

“I’ll get Katie to invoice me.” The singer says as he notices you glance to the houses just beside you both and you slow down.

Matching your speed, you both come to a stop just in front of your house and you smile at the singer, “Thank you for walking me home.”

“Not a problem, Y/N.” Alex smiles back and you’re really glad that

You start slowly moving closer to your house as you say, “I hope the next leg of your tour goes well.”

“Thank you.” He says as he watches you get closer to your house.

“See you soon Alex.” You say with a smile as you unlock your door and push it open. “Thanks again.”

Alex smiles, “Bye Y/N.”

~*~*~*~ 24th November 2018 ~*~*~*~

Chaos. That is the only word to describe the current situation that you’re in.

The Cook household is manic, Forrest is running round like a mad man as any toddler who’s just been given sweets by his uncle would be doing.

Toys are everywhere and Jamie is running around too as he’s been tasked with tidying them before the grandparents get here to babysit. Katie scolded Alex for giving Forrest sweets before they were due to go out before she went upstairs to get ready.

Katie’s Mum wasn’t here yet to babysit Forrest for the night whilst you were all going out and that added to the stress because the taxi was due in about 25 minutes. So you’re trying your best to be the good Auntie that you are and calm your godchild down before you all go out, but your good nature results in a causality.

Alex catches your arm as you almost fall over a mountain of toys Forrest decided to pull you through, but as you tried to salvage your footing you must have caught the leg of the table your shin smacked into as well. It didn’t hurt too much, the initial shock of it got you and the fact you almost fell over, but then you hear the awful sound of fabric ripping, it makes you wince. You know what's happened before you even look down to check.

“You’ve got to be fucking joking.” You mutter under your breath before you quickly glance at Alex and say a small, “Thanks.” as he stopped you from going arse over tit.

Alex asks slightly concerned, “Are you okay?” and that’s the first interaction with him since you walked in the door ten minutes ago.

You could blame that on the fact the Cook’s household was fucking mental, but it’s more than likely just normal that he doesn’t want to talk to you. You’re just glad he caught you if nothing else, the last thing you need is to fall and bruise yourself.

“Yeah, thanks,” You nod, letting go of his arm you were still grasping to perch on the back of the settee so you can get a look at the damage done to your tights, “Can’t say the same about them, for fucks sake.”

They are beyond salvageable. There’s a massive hole in the calf which is that big it almost fully reaches round to your shin. Theres now a massive fucking ladder up the side of them which makes them more transparent and you can feel it’s gone right up to your arse too.

“I can’t go out like this.” You sigh, wondering what you can do but it also pisses you off because you literally arrived a matter of minutes ago in your taxi feeling really good about yourself for a hot second, but now that’s all fucking disipated.

Jamie shrugs, suggesting, “Take them off.” as he watches Forrest play with some toys across the room.

“Oh yeah,” You roll your eyes, and your sarcasm rings clear telling him that you’re not in the mood for such a simple comment like that. You wore them for a reason, and that reason is because it’s fucking freezing outside, “And get fucking hypothermia because I’m shivering all night? I don’t think so Jamie.”

You’re only wearing a skirt tonight because Katie asked you to anyway. She wanted you to wear the skirt version of the dress that she had which you were fine with doing.

Katie was wearing a really cute red tartan dress with a long sleeve black top underneath whereas you opted to buy the dark green high waisted tartan skirt and you paired that with a white long sleeve top and you had your tights and ankle boots on.

You’re bloody freezing as it is, the last thing you want or need is to be taking your tights off. It’s a strong no from you.

“I mean you wanted a quick fix.” Jamie holds his hands up in innocence and you just ignore him for a second before walking out of the lounge and to the bottom of the stairs after hearing your best friend begin to walk down them.

“Katie, do you have tights I could borrow?” You ask her as she gets to the bottom of the stairs.

“I binned all mine the other day and ordered more but they haven't arrived yet.” She tells you and your once jolly mood plummets further, “They all had holes in them… How come?”

You show her your right leg and you turn slightly to pull your skirt up a little, making sure the lads don’t see but Katie can see just how high the ladder runs up.

“Oh.” Katie winces at that, feeling bad she can’t help you.

“I’ve got stockings you could wear?” She offers as the both of you walk back into the lounge, “They’d come up to your thigh?”

You almost want to slap her. You know exactly where those items of her clothing have been, which is why you give her a disgusted look as you say, “I’m not wearing stockings that you’ve been wearing whilst Jamie’s railed you.”

“They’ve been washed.” She scoffs.

“Thanks, but no. I can’t wear these though.” You sigh as you both walk into the lounge. You stick by the arched frame though and after a second of deliberation, you say, “Whilst you're sorting yourself out, I’ll walk home and change.”

Katie looks at you with concern filled eyes, “But the taxi is due in twenty minutes.”

“Exactly, and you don't have the time to be messing about.” You say as she’s clearly still got things to sort out. She’s only just now plugging her straighteners in and she doesn’t have her shoes on yet either. You continue with, “And your Mum isn’t here yet to look after Forrest. If you can pick me up on the way out, that’d be grand.”

Katie nods at you through the mirror as she starts parting her hair so she can style it, “Yeah that’s fine.”

“Right, I’ll go now then.” You tell the room before turning to grab your coat from the bannister.

But you almost stop dead when you hear Alex say, “I’ll walk with you.”

Did those words really just leave Alex Turner’s mouth?

They clearly did because he’s pulling his jacket back on and taking a step towards you. Not wanting to be a burden, you shake your head, “You don’t have to, it’s not that late.”

“It’s okay, I’ll walk with you.” Alex insists, giving you a look that’s assuring but he makes it lighthearted by saying, “Gives them more incentive to come and pick the both of us up from yours then, right?”

You assume he must remember from your walk home a few months ago that you didn’t like walking home in the dark. You see no other reason for him as to be so kind to offer. So you don’t argue with him further, even though you already feel nervous to have to spend time with him alone.

“Right.” You nod and avert your gaze from his. You look back to Katie and Jamie and say, “See you in a bit.”

~*~*~*~

The walk home was uncomfortable to say the least. Despite your speed walking, it really did seem to take forever to get back to your house with silence between you and the singer.

You’ve got past the point of trying to start a full conversation with him at this point, so you just opted to repeat the lyrics to your favourite song, Not fair by Lily Allen, to yourself three times knowing that by the time you finish the song in full for the third time you should be home. And when you’re correct, you’re very thankful.

Unlocking and getting into your house leaves a new sense of anxiety in your stomach though. You’ve left the place a fucking mess and you hate that when someone new walks in. Especially someone like Alex who hasn’t always been the nicest to you in the past, so you start rambling again as you let the both of you in.

“My house is a tip so sorry about this.” You tell him as you quickly slip your boots off so you can change your tights when you get a second. “Please ignore everything you see. I’ve really not had any time to clean up today. I was out this morning and then by the time I got back katie was mithering me to get ready for tonight which is fucking comical because she wasn’t ready even before we left.”

Alex closes the door behind and walks into your home and you don’t need to look at him to know he’s already looking around at your possessions. Most people do when they walk in anyway considering the back wall of your lounge displays your ever growing record collection.

You’re unsurprised when you hear him say, “Christ, that’s a lot of records.”

“I know right,” You smile and walk the both of you further into your home.

And because you can’t handle silence as you start searching your shopping bags for a new pair of tights, you give him another anecdote, “My Dad gave me all of his from back in the day. Couldn’t believe it when he said I could have them all. I’d only just started my collection at the time and I probably had about twenty of my own and then he gave me all of his because he said it was old technology and he’ll never have any use for them anymore. And then my grandparents followed suit and they gave me all theirs too. Couldn’t believe my luck.”

“Three generations worth of collectors then?” Alex smiles and you nod.

“Yeah, I guess so.” You nod, not bothering with the bag you were currently routing through anymore because you’re a little bit taken aback by the fact he’s pulled your favourite Gorillaz album out.

Abandoning your search for replacement tights for the moment, you carry on your story as you watch him, “Been fun adding to the big collection though. I love just putting on a record to pass the time. It’s why my Spotify unwrapped is always so shit because I always listen to my LPs and not on my phone so at the end of the year it’s like ‘you listened to two thousand minutes of music this year’ and it’s bullshit because I just listen to so much more but it’s all on my turntable unless I'm walking to work.”

Alex hums with a smile on his face as he continues searching for more records. He’s pleased to see all of his own up there, including his EP, the TLSP albums, and the Submarine soundtrack. And when he pulls out Miles’ latest album Coup De Grace, he can’t help but chuckle seeing that Miles had signed it and written a message to you saying, ‘Y/N/N, my biggest fan in the world. Love you loads and I hope you enjoy the new tunes. All my love, Miles x’.

When you notice the singer looking at that, you laugh and tell him how Miles had given you a lovely message on the front of all his LPs.

“Bless Miles, he always writes me a nice message on each album I get sent.” You start to ramble as you search for new tights. “I don’t really remember when he started doing it… Oh yeah I do, I think it may have been when I mentioned when I first met him how much I liked Age of the Understatement and we were talking about it for ages. And then like a month later I get the record in the post and he’s signed it and it had the sweetest message on the front to go with it and he’s never stopped. He’s a gem.”

You stop talking about Miles when you get baffled for a moment how your tights weren’t in the shopping bag from the shop you thought you bought them from. So your search persists as you carry on routing in other bags you’ve yet to take upstairs.

As you do though, your nervous chatter persists. You really hate that you can’t stop it, and you’re sure you’re annoying your guest but he doesn’t stop you, and thankfully he doesn’t look annoyed by them today. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t take you by surprise today by actively starting a conversation with you.

Just as you’re about to run upstairs to your room, you hear Alex ask, “Can I ask you a question?”

If Katie would have asked you that, you’d have said ‘You just did’ but because it’s Alex and you’re certain he doesn’t get your humour, nor would he tolerate it, you just say, “Yeah, of course you can.”

And you walk back into your lounge so you’re not being rude as you wait for his question. Alex looks as relaxed as possible as you feel like your heart is going to start beating out of your chest despite him still plucking records from your shelves.

His brown eyes linger on you as he asks, “Do I make you nervous?”

You certainly weren't expecting that question.

“What do you mean?” You find yourself asking, not understanding where that’s come from and you feel like you’re frozen in your spot.

Alex seems to think about his words before they leave his mouth next. And your heart that's thudding ten to the dozen in your chest doesn’t feel like it’s able to cope for much longer so you’re very thankful when he says what's on his mind.

“Well when I walked you home in the summer, you said that you ramble when you're drunk or nervous. And yes, on a few occasions we've seen each other lately we’ve been drunk, but you’re not now and you’re exactly the same.” Alex points out as he looks between you and the track listing on the back of your Brian Eno LP.

“You’re really chatty and jumpy when I come near you and it's like you’re flustered and jittery... Like the way a fan usually is but you’ve known me for too long for it to be that, so that’s why I'm asking,” Alex repeats himself, “Do I make you nervous?”

“Erm, yeah.” You nod, unable to say much else, “I guess you do.”

“In what way?” The singer asks you as he puts the record back where he found it before giving you his full attention and starts making his way over to you.

“I’m not scared of you or anything… You just really stress me out. I can never read you, never read what mood you’re in or even whether you like me as a person or you just think I’m Katie’s annoying friend that never shuts up.” You struggle for your words because you truly don’t know how to tell him without offending him. The last thing you’d want is for him to dislike you anymore.

But Alex’s gaze and increasing proximity makes you say more, “I don’t really know why you make me nervous after all this time. But you definitely unsettle me.”

You want to curl up into a ball and hide. You feel fidgety with the closer he gets and you want to avoid his gaze. But because he’s pointed it out, you don’t allow yourself. You stay strong and keep his eye contact despite his teasing.

“When you’re around me you talk like you- I don’t know how to describe it… You almost act like someone who's addicted to the E-numbers in sweets.” Alex grins, almost like it’s a little inside joke with himself. You try to keep yourself calm when he reaches his point, as he stops a few feet in front of you. “So that's why I’m curious if I made you nervous or not.”

“Well I guess the simple answer is yes.” You nod, but now with him so close, you try to look anywhere but at him.

This is far too awkward for your liking. Alex hums in response to that and he plucks another record that you recognise to be Histoire de Melody Nelson from your shelf that’s just beside you.

You think you’ve escaped the conversation now and you pray you can just go back to being awkwardly silent with each other and never relive that again. But apparently that’s not the plan.

Just as you were turning yourself around again to head upstairs, Alex leaves you shell shocked when he asks, “Do you want to fuck me?”

Instantly your eyes are the widest they could possibly get and you’re sure your jaw falls open. Looking at him intently to try and make sure you’re not dreaming this, you deadpan, “Excuse me?”

“Do you want to fuck me?” Alex asks, putting the record back like it's the most casual thing to ask someone he barely speaks to, “Is that why I make you nervous?”

This should be the easiest response you’ve ever given him.

“I-”

But your words fail you. Your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest.

Wait… Do I want to fuck him?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A/N: So... What did you think??? What do you think is going to happen next??? Did you enjoy it? I really hope you did!

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist x

Taglist: @alovesreading @kennedy-brooke @ohladymoon @hazskillerqueen @more-multifandom-of-maddness @thereisaplaceintheheart

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melinoelliones · 1 year

Text

You were on your first official “dream first date”, cuddled up watching cheesy romance movies. However Micah Yujin, the cocky little hacker you met 5 days ago, wasn’t being so cocky anymore.....

MINORS DNI/ AGELESS BLOGS DNI/ ANTI DC DNI/ 18+

Warnings: neck kisses, oral, dry humping, hickies, teasing, early ejaculation, grinding, cursing, slight face fucking, slight choking, whimpering

1.9K words

SECOND PIECE OF WRITING LESS GOOOOOOOO!! Again I am still new at this so please don't jump me LOL. I know there are many mistakes, weird wordings/story so on and so forth but oh well. I played Error143 a while ago with my friend group, and since then this man has been on my mind 24/7. Seeing him get flustered in game reminded me of this idea I had stored away for a fic which I felt would actually suit him nicely so here we are. Hope all the Micah lovers enjoy. On a serious note I have never written for a gender neutral reader so please let me know if I should change anything! Also I’ve used the nickname Angel as one of the names since that is what he uses in game!

The image of Micah was drawn by @kamuyagi on tumblr and twitter so check em out! I was given the green light to use their art so thank you again, it was lovely speaking to you :)

"You... actually like this stuff?", you could almost hear the smirk creeping up on Micahs face while pointing at the screen. "Some of us like to bake, others like to lie in bed and watch romance movies, problem?", you questioned while glancing over at him with a stern look, "no no, I have no issues here, was just curious is all Angel". He chuckled away while watching you turn back to face the TV, his chest now pressed against bare back as he was pulling you closer into him.

THE Micah Yujin was in your bed, cuddling up behind you, watching one of your favourite movies, it was almost unreal to you. Who would've known this would be the outcome of deciding to hack someone 5 days prior due to jealousy.

You could feel every ridge from his toned stomach as you both followed along with the movie, you both were down to just your underwear as he had suggested you guys "stay comfortable" since you were spending the day binge watching cheesy romance movies.

You couldn't help but think there was an ulterior motive but he was adamant that there was "no funny business in his agenda today", even though you had to pretend to ignore the figure which began to press against your lower back every so lightly.

"Uh uh uh, what is THIS my love"? Before you could even respond Micah had covered your eyes with his hands so you could no longer see the screen, "this is FAR too PG for you don't ya think Angel?", his sniggering getting louder as you attempted to swat him away. "THIS is too PG? Micah they're only kissing, I don't even think they go all the way in this one", you couldn't help but laugh a little, he was so immature.

You rolled over to face him, inching closer to his newly flustered face, "How about I show you PG hmm?", your seductive tone causing his eyes to widen, your own flittered between his and his lips. The sexual tension in the air rising as you let your lips linger by his teasing him while moving to lay on his chest.

"You're such a tea~", you cut him off by crashing your lips into his, gliding them over one another. His hand slid up to your neck, gently applying pressure while lightly tugging you even closer, the kiss getting heated ever so quickly. Micah caught your bottom lip between his, gently easing his tongue into your mouth as you followed, you let him take charge just this once.

The sexual tension quickly turned into frustration, as he deepened the kiss you knew he wanted more, the soft moans leaving his lips told you more than enough but you wouldn't give it up that easily. You could also feel how needy he was yet he didn't dare to try anything further.

You slowly pulled away, a string of saliva linking you together as you sat up, he watched as your eyes moved from his lower stomach to his eyes. "It's pretty convenient that at your request we are both only in our underwear. It's almost like.... This is what you wanted to happen hmm? Don't get all shy on me now". The grin forming on your face causing the usually cocky man under you to squirm trying to cover his heated cheeks.

"Nothing to say for yourself hmm?" you frowned smugly while watching Micah struggle to get any words out, "a~actually I~". You felt him choke back on his words as you leant forward letting you fingers coiled around his already hard nipples. "Sensitive here are we Micah?", your words ringing through while snaking your fingers around them.

You could feel Micah swallowing down his moans on your lips as you placed small kisses down the side of his neck, sucking lightly on each left kiss while nibbling down. Whilst trailing them down to his chest you blew gently against the newly placed hickies, you felt his body quiver due to how tender the marks were.

Micah's eyes widened as he heard your breath hitch while jolting up. "Ah, and you told me to shield my eyes from a kiss in a movie?", the confused look on his face dropping as he followed your eyes to his newly grown piece that was now pressing up on your lower half, you took your bottom lip in your teeth as you cheekily began to grind down against it.

Was Micah really that turnt on by a few neck kisses? This was the same egotistical man that would boast about how you would definitely fold first when it comes to being in the same room.

You couldn't help but giggle to yourself quietly while watching him squirm under you trying to take any extra friction he could from your lower half to his, desperation looked good on him.

You crawled off him, you could almost hear him internally sighing thinking you were done teasing him but he couldn't be further from correct. You placed yourself between his legs, hands running down his torso to the band of his boxers, your eyes half lidded with desire as you rolled your tongue against your top teeth, a coy grin plastered on your face.

Sliding the fabric down under his hips you took his length in your hand, the sheer size of it took you by surprise, no wonder the rare times when he was modest were only when you would joke about it being small without having seen it, "So this is what you've been hiding, I think I can handle it" you bit your lip while perking up.

"What do you mean by tha~ oh fuck", Micah hissed through his teeth as you timidly rubbed his ever growing member. With each stroke you could hear his needy moans get louder, his eyes showing a pure yearning for more."Look at you, is this the smug and overconfident hacker I met 5 days ago? 2 minutes in and you're already this turnt on", you teased as he averted his eyes from you.

"Look at me pretty boy", your stern tone followed by you meticulously moulding your fingers around his member massaging it in your hand, you could hear Micah curse through his moans. He turnt to look at you, eyebrows tilted upwards in bliss.

You weren't sure how much more he could take as you didn't know his cues yet, however you did know you weren't going to let it end here, having a cheeky man in submission was too perfect to give up this fast.

You slowly stopped your hand movements, "w~why'd you stop?" Micah whined trying to conduct himself, he wasn't used to being this vulnerable but with you he didn't mind but he wasn't expecting all this.

"Okay Micah, would you rather I finish you off with my hand, or mouth? Hackers choice.", your cheeky tone confusing him as to if that was a real question. Before he had a chance to formulate a response you placed your fingertips on the cusp on his cock, as you pressed them onto it you stuck out your tongue to let a drop of saliva hit his tip, your grip tightening as his body squirmed.

While kneading the tip in your fingertips you asked again, "You gotta pick one Micah, if not I guess we can leave it here and go back to the mov~", "mouth". "What was that? I couldn't hear you?", you pouted jokingly as if to mock him. You had full control and you were going to get the most out of it.

"P~Please, please finish me off with your mouth Angel", Micahs head rolling back in pure sexual frustration, "good boy Micah, i'm all yours". Without another word you skimmed your tongue across his shaft before taking it in your mouth, your warm breath adding to the burning in his stomach.

You bobbed your head up and down taking him all in, your saliva mixing with his precum engulfing his cock in a wet heat. "Fuuuck baby, don't stop", his hand slid to your cheek, caressing it before bringing it to the back of your head, you felt a slight pressure.

Was he really trying to fuck your face? You weren't expecting him to get a burst of confidence, or was his body just moving on its own? Either way it was turning you on little by little. You placed your free hand on his balls, palming them as he began to grind his hips forwards, the crown of his cock hitting the back of your throat each stroke.

Micah's moans became sloppy and incoherent as your tongue slid across the slit in his piece before taking it all back in, humming to allow it to slip back down your throat, the vibrations adding to the overwhelming closeness he was feeling.

You could feel him twitching slightly in your mouth, "oh my g~god i'm so close baby", his whining getting louder as you gave his balls in your palm some more attention. "Just keep going baby" he mewled out in desperation.

Before you could have another thought you felt him shudder, as if on cue he let go, you could feel it cascade down your throat coating it completely, his breath hitching as you continued to deepthroat him, swallowing whatever remained in your mouth. "W~What are you d~oing I can't take much mo~", you could hear him whimpering as the overstim started to consume him, the delirium swirling inside him as the suction intensified.

"F~Fuuuck Angel", he was drowning in pain and pleasure, you started to slow down using your tongue to take in the elixir of cum and saliva encasing his cock cleaning him up. You could almost feel his member throbbing as you pulled back. You gazed at him alluringly as he covered his deep red cheeks with his forearm, "welllll, did I do good Mr Micah?".

Another cheeky smirk emerging on your lips as you slid your hand on last time up his length to take off anything remaining, licking it clean while remaining eye contact with him, he breathlessly mumbled "you~you did more than good I can tell ya that much" whilst you placed him back in his boxers carefully.

Micah grabbed your jaw with his hand pulling you into a quick heated kiss as you went to lay by his side, the taste of him and your saliva slightly re-turning him on. "You outdone anything I expected you to do, that's for sure, i'm still kinda in a haze", he chuckled letting you go, you winked at him before sliding back to face the television, back against his chest once again.

You could feel his heartbeat calming down behind you, you had definitely shocked him with your actions. Who knew you could make a cocky man whimper n writhe with just your mouth? God knows what he would be like if you guys actually fucked, you were definitely intrigued though.

You felt his arm wrap around your waist before moving up to your chin, turning your head so your ear was beside his lips, his breath sending shivers down your spine, "Once i've managed to collect myself, how about I repay you for your little display hmm? How does that sound?". His husky tone taking you aback.

He placed a kiss on the nape of your neck before sliding his arm back to your waist, your mind running through all possible scenarios that could pan out due to his cryptic words. All you knew was that the date was just beginning.

#meli noel's work #micah yujin #micah yujin smut #micah yujin x reader #micah yujin x reader smut #error143 #error 134 #error143 smut #error 143 smut #meli noel

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shadowdaddies · 4 months

Note

Hello! Could i request a cassian x f!reader fic where the reader is a babysitter for cassian's baby girl (maybe less than a year old). cassian is a single father...you can choose whatever happened to the baby's mom. so maybe as time goes on and cassian sees reader bonding so well with his baby, he starts liking her more and more. eventually asks her out and they end up getting together and all❤️

hi! love this, thank you for the request💜

A/N: I'm still traveling for the holidays but trying to get through my requests, thanks to everyone who has been patient sending them in💜💜💜

Aella

Cassian x Reader fluff

The Lord of Bloodshed looked close to tears as his baby girl continued to cry in his arms. With desperate eyes, Cassian looked to you, an understanding smile gracing your lips as you took Aella from his hold.

Holding her head against your chest, you swayed your hips back and forth as the toddler calmed at the movement and the sound of your heartbeat.

Cassian released a relieved breath, granting you a broad smile of gratitude as he watched his daughter drift to sleep in your arms. “You are a life saver, as always,” he breathed, running a calloused hand through his long black hair.

Shaking your head, you placed a soft kiss to the girl’s hair. “It’s my pleasure, truly. She is such a sweet girl.”

After a long gaze that had you blushing furiously, Cassian glanced between you and the doorway, rocking back and forth on his heels. “I shouldn’t be gone too long - I have a meeting with the camp leaders up in Illyria but Rhysand will bring me back tonight.”

Rubbing your hand on Aella’s back, you shook your head at him. “Don’t feel rushed. We’ll be just fine here, won’t we?” you reassured him.

Wild black curls popped up against your cheek as Aella perked up. “Momma,” she cooed, big brown eyes looking at you adoringly.

Your jaw dropped, cheeks turning beet red as you looked to Cassian. “She’s never called me that, I didn’t teach her...” you fumbled for words.

Cassian’s eyes watered, the male stumbling backwards as the breath flew from his lungs. He clutched his chest as he stared at you in shock, at a loss for words himself.

The moment was interrupted the the High Lord winnowing in, his hand taking Cassian’s arm as he asked if the general was ready to go. Numbly, Cassian nodded, allowing himself to be swept into darkness as you stared helplessly at the spot where he had stood a moment ago.

Aella giggled in your arms, drawing you back to the present. “Let’s go make dinner, sweet girl,” you murmured.

The night passed in a blur, your usual routine with Aella plagued by the dread that filled you at the thought of Cassian’s return. The fragile relationship that you had built with the handsome male was shattered the moment his daughter called you ‘momma.’

As much as you loved Aella and Cassian, you would never try to replace Aella’s mother. The thought of the young girl thinking of you as such made your gut churn with guilt, and Cassian’s face at the comment made tears spring to your eyes. It was as though he was struck by lightning, the way he jumped away from you.

With a sigh, you put Aella to bed, heading downstairs where you waited on the couch for Cassian’s return. After some time of stewing with your thoughts, the general returned, Rhys giving you a polite greeting as a rare smile graced his lips before he vanished into a swirling darkness once more.

Biting your lip, you dared a glance at Cassian, the Illyrian male appearing just as nervous as you felt.

“I’m sorry-“

“I apolog-“

With a nervous chuckle, Cassian took a seat on the coffee table in front of you, a strange look in his eyes as he deliberated what to say next. With a deep breath, he found composure before speaking. “I apologize for how I left earlier. It was a lot to process, hearing Aella call you... that.”

His eyes shone with sadness as he failed to say the word, and you instinctively reached a hand to hold his in comfort. Eyes widening, you realized the potential mistake of your movement, but before you could pull your hand away, Cassian gently brought it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

He held your hand firmly in his lap, and you savored the warmth of his strong, calloused hands holding yours. “There is more,” he whispered, sparing you a nervous glance before hazel eyes returned to your hand in his lap.

Something of interest sparked in your chest at his admission as you shifted slightly forward. “What is it, Cassian?” you whispered, rubbing your thumb against the back of his hand as you tried to quiet the thunderous beating of your heart.

Cassian didn’t have to say anything. When he looked up at you, long black hair falling out of his eyes, the thread snapped as if your soul leapt from your chest towards his own. With a nod and a knowing smile, Cassian managed out a few words. “The bond snapped.”

Bringing your free hand to wipe the tear that fell down his cheek, you cupped Cassian’s face in a bold move as you guided his gaze to yours. “I feel it too. But this does not need to be anything that you do not want it to be, Cassian. I know how difficult this is, with Aella, and I am not ever going to replace her mother. I love her - and you - too much to dream of it.”

The world tilted on its axis as Cassian’s hand gripped the back of your neck, pulling you into a kiss with a heat unlike which you’d ever felt before. Forehead pressed to yours, Cassian smiled, a brilliant thing that had your heart thumping once more. “I love you, and I can’t believe I am lucky enough to have you as a mate. I spoke to Rhys and he gave great insight. I want... no, I need you in my life, and in Aella’s.”

A soft giggle escaped you, joy overflowing as you kissed him again. “We will work through this then, together. We go slow, talk to Aella... We have forever, after all.”

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jaemmphilia · 10 months

Text

★ 𝘮𝘪𝘹𝘵𝘢𝘱𝘦: 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦, 𝘴𝘦𝘹, 𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘵 ★ || han j.s

★ summary: after cleaning up the amazing dinner you all had, you, chan, han, and jeongin walk to the convenience store to get some drinks. you stick close to han, thanking him for being such a sweetheart to you. the four of you get back to the house, and then the nine of you relax by the fire pit. one too many drinks later, you end up tangled in han's embrace.

★ characters: bang chan, lee know, changbin, y/n (he/him pronouns and a masculine frame), hyunjin, han, felix, seungmin, i.n

★ warnings: alcohol, drunk skz, drunken sex, unprotected sex (don't be like them, guys), they're falling in love your honor, the reader is the bottom in this one, sorry not sorry

★ word count: 3.8K (3587)

★ binnie's thoughts: welcome to part three of the mixtape: black diamonds series! we're almost to the end of the series and i'm a little sad...but no worries, i have another series coming soon!

★ requested?: X

★ disclaimer: this fic in absolutely NO way represents the stray kids members as people. this is just for fun, so enjoy! this part contains smut, so minors do not interact!

“Alright, everyone text me what kind of drink you kids want!”

Chan’s voice rings out through the house, and you can hear various replies from the members who aren’t coming along. You shrug on your coat, watching as Han tugs on his shoes next to you.

At first you didn’t want to walk to the convenience store, but when Han notified you that he was tagging along, you jumped up eagerly (you nearly fell when you jumped, but you played it off real smooth). You’ll take any opportunity you can get if it means you get to spend time with the younger male.

You slip on your shoes, standing by the door with Jeongin, waiting for your leader to lead you all to the corner store. Once the oldest male appears, the four of you venture out into the biting nighttime air. You shiver, wrapping your arms around yourself. You didn’t really expect it to be so cold out tonight, or else you would have brought a bigger jacket.

Suddenly, you feel light warmth at your right side, and you look over to see Han walking beside you. There’s not much room in between you both, maybe about the width of a toothpick’s worth of room. You flash him a smile, and he gives you one in return. Jeongin and Chan walk a few feet ahead of you, the two of them locked in conversation.

You and Han walk beside each other, your arms touching occasionally due to the close proximity you two are in. You playfully nudge his arm, making him stumble to the side dramatically with a soft laugh. He nudges you back, and it goes back and forth for a bit. The two of you stop, giggling like little schoolgirls talking about crushes.

On the topic of crushes, you find yourself stealing short glances at Han whenever he’s near you. You often take in his appearance: his ashy gray hair, his naturally tan skin that reminds you of the summers in Georgia. His smile, gummy and wide, his eyes crinkling into squinty crescents. His laugh, so loud and joyous, it makes your heart swell. You want to make sure he’s always smiling and laughing, you never want to see him sad. You don’t want to admit that you have a crush on the younger male, considering that you’ve really only known him for a couple of hours. But you can’t deny what your heart feels, so maybe you’ll just keep your feelings to yourself until you feel that the time is right.

“So, how did you feel about being put into the group like this? I’m just a little curious.” Han asks once you both stop nudging each other. You think about his answer for a second before replying.

“At first I was upset. I trained for three years, hoping that I would be put into a group, each and every one of us climbing the ladder to success. I was hoping to debut just like everyone else, having to get to know my group mates and finding out if our dynamics will work or not. I didn’t want to be shoved into a group that was already so close-knit.” you reply, keeping your eyes glued to the rocky street under your shoes. You kick a small rock, watching as it rolls a few short inches in front of you.

Han hums as he listens to you, taking in your words. He may not understand exactly how you feel, but he understands that being thrown into a group that’s at the peak of its career can be quite scary for one person. At first he was iffy about having a stranger join his found family, but the more he talks to you, the more he wants to get to know you as a person.

He wants to know everything. Your favorite color, favorite food, favorite animal. Are you a morning or night person? Do you have any hobbies? Do your freckles go past your face, do you have any on your body? Do you have more beauty marks that litter your body?

Do you whine when someone touches your soft skin?

Han shakes his head in shock. Where in the hell did that come from? He doesn’t know what came over him just now, he’s never really thought about anyone like that before, especially not someone he’s just met. He fights the red hue that creeps up his neck and ears.

He notices your eyes on him, and he opens his mouth to reply, but you beat him to it. “Han-ah, your ears are super red. Is it too cold out for you?” you say to him, a slight tease to your voice.

He slaps his hands over his ears, shaking his head in denial. “No! I’m perfectly fine!” He defends himself with a huff followed by a cute pout. You laugh at him as you notice the bright lights of the corner store come into view. You speed up a bit to catch up with Chan and Jeongin. The three of you enter the little store as Han hangs a bit behind. This guy is going to be the death of me, he thinks to himself as he speeds up to follow you into the store.

You walk up and down the drink aisle, taking in all the options. You wish you had some money, because there’s a strawberry margarita drink that’s calling your name. You huff and search for Chan. Once you find him, he gives you a confused look.

“Did you not want a drink?” he asks, reaching up to grab a drink for one of the other members. You tilt your head.

“No, I don’t have any money.” you say, lightly scratching your arm due to light nervousness.

“Don’t worry about it. The company is paying for it.” Chan replies with a cheeky wink, grabbing another drink and placing it in his little shopping basket. He chuckles as you rush off to grab the drink you want. He takes the drink from you as you walk out of the store with Han and Jeongin. He remembers being very iffy about you joining the group, but now that he’s gotten to actually talk to you and he’s heard your story, he finds himself wanting to protect you. Even if he’s not an actual father, it just feels natural to him. Call it a father’s intuition, if you will.

You stand outside the corner store with Han and Jeongin, and you’re showing Jeongin some pictures of your pet hedgehogs, named Sonic and Amy (Amy isn’t even a female hedgehog, but that doesn’t matter to you), the two younger males cooing and fawning over the spiky little creatures. Once you all see Chan stepping out of the store, you turn your phone to face him.

“Chan-hyung, look at my pets back home!” you say in English, your smooth southern accent thick as you speak. You scroll through the hundreds of pictures you have of Sonic and Amy in your gallery. Chan just chuckles, finding your adoration for the small animals cute.

“They’re super cute. Do you miss them?” Chan asks as he starts walking back to the house they’re staying in. Somehow the hefty plastic bag gets passed to Han, who dramatically complains about the weight of the bag. Jeongin just laughs, ignoring his hyung’s cries.

You shake your head at Han before you turn your attention back to the oldest male. “Yeah, they live back with my ma and pa. I wish I coulda taken them with me, but they woulda hated travellin’ all the way here.” you say, stuffing your chilly hands into the pockets of your puffy jacket.

Han listens to you speak in English, and he picks up how you pronounce the words. He notices that it’s totally different from how Chan and Felix pronounce English words. He’s never heard an accent like yours, it sounds like butter, or the smoothest caramel being drizzled over an icy bowl of ice cream. He wants you to whisper in his ear, so he can pick apart your accent in a more intimate setting. He wants you to say his name, wants to hear you tell him that he’s doing a good job at pleasing you. He tries to rid himself of those thoughts, but it’s impossible when you’re having a pleasant conversation with Chan just a few steps in front of him.

Han feels Jeongin saddle up beside him. He already knows the younger is going to say something totally obvious.

“You like YN-hyung, don’t you?” He says, the slyest of smiles painting his face as he looks at Han. Han sputters in shock at the younger male’s bizarre accusation.

“Wha– no way! We just met him today!” Han defends himself, crossing his arms across his broad chest. Jeongin just snorts out a laugh, not believing a word that comes from his hyung’s mouth.

“Uh-huh. Whatever you say, hyung.” Jeongin doesn’t comment on it after that. But now he has some juicy gossip to tell Seungmin once he gets to the house.

The four of you finally arrive at the house with the drinks. You step into the house, sighing deeply at the warmth that engulfs you. You slip off your shoes and tug off your jacket. You make your way into the house, following Chan as he goes to the area where the fire pit is. Han follows behind you as he slips on the slippers he was wearing previously.

The nine of you are sitting around the fire pit, Han is to your left while Felix is at your right. You have a thick blanket draped on your lap, the other ends of the blanket draped over Han and Felix’s laps. You’re nice and cozy in your chair, your sweet drink in your hand as you listen to Changbin tell some story about his childhood.

He’s yelling about something his sister had done to him back when he was younger. You can tell he’s becoming more drunk, his neck is starting to turn a little red and he’s kind of stumbling over his words.

Honestly, you’re starting to feel a little tipsy yourself. You’ve never been amazing at holding your alcohol, but you don’t get shit-faced after two drinks like other people. But you can’t deny the light feeling in your bones, the sweet but artificial taste of strawberries lingering on your tongue.

As you all begin to finish your first drinks, some of the boys retire for the night. The two youngest are the first ones to leave, and Hyunjin follows them not long after. You and the remainder of the boys are all talking and drinking, you’re telling them the story of how your twin sisters locked you outside of the house as a dog chased the three of you down the street.

“So I trip and fall flat on my face, and the older twin, Baehwi, just ran faster towards our house. The younger twin, Dagum, she ran track at the time, was already at the house and she was holding the door open for Baehwi. I’m laying on the concrete, my nose is gushing blood, and there's a massive dog coming my way,” you say, sitting up in your seat as you retell the story, “I manage to get up and run to the house, but my knees are all scraped up and i’m still stumbling.

“I finally make it to the door and I try to open it, but it’s locked. I was freaking out and banging on the door, crying and bleeding from my nose. The dog is pretty damn close now, and it’s inches away from biting my ass. But my dad came to my rescue, he opened the door and chased the dog off with a broom. Now I’m terrified of big dogs.” You finish your story, bringing your drink to your mouth, tipping the can up, finishing the rest of the sweet liquid.

“Let’s play truth or dare!” Changbin slurs his words as he nearly falls over in his chair with a strangled shout, making you all laugh.

You all miss the devious look on Lee Know’s flushed face as his brain plots something. “How about I start us off?” He asks as he sets his empty drink down. He’s got this smile on his face that just screams that he’s up to no good.

“YN, truth or dare?”

You turn towards him when you hear him say your name. You’ve never been one to turn down a dare, so you grin at Lee Know. “Dare.” you say with full confidence.

Lee Know grins wider and crosses his arms with his eyebrow cocked. “I dare you to sit on Han’s lap for the rest of the game.” He says, earning a round of gasps and ‘ooh’s’ from everyone else.

“That’s it? That’s too easy.” you say and get up from your seat, and you plop yourself down on Han’s lap.

Han absolutely malfunctions. You just sat yourself on his lap as if it was the most normal thing in the world. You’re seated right on his half-hard dick and you wiggle a little to get comfortable. He bites back a moan as your ass rubs against him. He bites his bottom lip, and his hands automatically wrap around your middle as you finally get comfy. Han knows he’s a little drunk and undoubtedly very horny, because he adjusts his hips and he knows you can feel his dick through his pants and the blanket.

“You look mighty comfortable, YN-ah,” Lee Know says, his gaze zeroed in on Han and his red-tinted cheeks and ears, “are you comfortable too, Hannie?” he teases.

Han grits his teeth at his hyung and just gives a thumbs up.

The game continues, each of you doing stupid dares and answering stupid questions. You and Han remain by the fire pit, everyone else retired to bed. You’re still seated on his lap, but you’re facing him now. Your arms are around his neck, your chest flush against his as you lay your head on his shoulder. His hands are placed on your ass, his fingers lightly gripping the meaty flesh.

You lift your head from his shoulder and you look at him. You take in his features, the shape of his eyes, to his cupid’s bow. You think he’s so handsome, especially like this: red-faced and his hair all messy. You run your hand through his hair as he looks up at you. You exchange smiles before you find yourselves leaning on closer. It’s not much longer until your lips are meeting in the middle. At first the kiss is just an experimental press, until you start to move your lips against Han’s.

The two of you kiss for a bit until it becomes a full-blown make out session. The two of you are pretty much humping each other in the chair meant for one person. You’re grinding your hips against his, and you can feel his hands roaming your torso under your teal sweater. His hands are cold compared to your warm skin. It makes you shiver.

You finally pull away from Han, lightly panting as you stare at each other. You both break out into giggles, neither of you believing that you just made out like it was nothing.

“Why don’t we take this inside? We can use my room,” you offer, your fingers tangling in his ashy gray strands of hair. Han looks up at you, a dumb grin painted on his face. You snort out a laugh, “why are you smiling at me like that?”

“Because you’re just so pretty and hot sitting on my lap and kissing me. It’s driving me crazy.” He says, his eyes closing when he finishes talking.

You shake your head and remove yourself from his lap. He lets out a whine followed by a pout, his eyes opening once again. This man is definitely not beating the babygirl allegations, you think to yourself as you pull Han up and out of the chair. His body slumps against yours, his head in your neck. You feel him place wet, open mouth kisses on your skin, making your knees a little weak (they’re already weak because of the alcohol, but who cares).

“Come on, I’m horny and want you inside me like, right now.” You say to Han, and those words alone make him perk up and drag you inside the house. He makes a beeline for your room at the end of the hall. He throws the door open, pushing you inside, gently, and locks it once you’re both inside.

You stumble a little as the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed. Han makes quick strides towards you and he connects his lips with yours as he pushes his chest against yours. His hands are on both of your cheeks as he shoves his tongue in your mouth. You move your lips against his, your own tongue gliding against his. You can taste the sweet and semi-bitter essence of the alcohol he was drinking not long ago.

The two of you keep making out in a different position. Han is hovering on top of you, his lips not leaving yours for a second. His chilly hands are rubbing shapes along your naked chest, your shirt long gone in the corner of the room. Han grinds his hips against you, his hard cock slides against yours through your black sweatpants.

Han pulls away from the kiss to breathe. He looks down at your face, your eyes half-closed, your lips glossy with his saliva mixed with your own. Your chest is heaving slightly, trying to keep up with Han’s eagerness. You’re dizzy, your head is spinning with lust and intense amounts of need.

Han tugs off his shirt, tossing the fabric behind him, not caring where it lands. You bring your hands up, gripping his pecs which makes him let out a soft groan. You grin, pinching his skin near his nipples. His mouth falls open, the slight pain from the pinches making him moan softly. You finally pinch his nipples, rolling them between your fingers. You drink in the whines he’s letting out, the sound no different than the sweetest music.

After playing with his chest for a bit, you both move on to the good stuff. You both rid yourselves of any remaining clothes, and Han flips you onto your stomach. He grabs your hips and lifts them up until your hole is level with his face. You allow yourself to be manhandled by him, the feeling of his hands gripping your flesh tightly.

“Your skin is so soft, and you smell so good all over,” Han says, his cool breath fanning your hole, causing you to clench a bit, “even here.” You feel his tongue prod at your hole.

You jerk forward a bit, but Han tugs you right back to him. He holds your hips tight to make sure you don’t get away from him again. He licks at your hole some more, until he slips the tip of his tongue inside you. You whine out, the sound mostly muffled by the pillow under you.

He works you open with his tongue and fingers until he deems you ready for his fat cock. He’s so hard that it’s becoming painful. His tip is damn near purple, a bead of precome gathering at his slit. He pulls away from your ass, wiping his mouth to rid himself of the slobber. He admires the view in front of him: your head is down, ass up in the air. The flesh of your ass is tinted red from how hard he was gripping onto you. Your hole is slick with his spit, your cock and balls hanging heavy in between your thighs. He can see the precome dripping from your tip, the semi-thick liquid falling on the bed. Your body is shaking as you breathe out.

Han decides not to use a condom, he’s too drunk to care about using one. He just gets on his knees, lining his hard cock up with your hole. He pushes the tip in first, drinking in the noise you let out. A high pitched whine mixed with a moan. He allows you to adjust to the feeling, waiting for you to give him the green light.

“Sunige,” you whine out, raising up to look at him over your shoulder, “please, move..”

Who is he to deny his adorable hyung of that? He would be considered a monster. He slides his entire length inside you, his tip lightly kissing that spot deep inside you. You bite into the pillow under you, drool falling from your mouth. Han scoffs and reaches forward, tugging your hair. He pulls your head up, causing your back to arch.

“Who told you to hide your moans in the pillow?” he asks, his voice harsh and commanding. It catches you off guard (especially after he just snatched you by your hair..).

You cry out as he slowly starts to thrust his hips inside you. He still has a nice grip on your hair, your back arched as he rocks into you. “I’m sorry, Sungie.. I won’t do it again.”

“Damn right you won’t. I’m the one in charge right now.” He growls out and he slams his hips forward and back, causing your body to jerk forward from the amount of force.

He keeps pounding into your body, and you’ve already come twice. You can tell he’s holding back, not wanting to cum too early. You just happen to be more sensitive, which always leads to multiple orgasms on your end. You do feel his thrusts become sloppy, and his breathing picks up. You know he’s close, and you can feel a third orgasm creeping in your bones.

“Holy shit. You’re just sucking me in, baby.” He says, giving a few more thrusts before he buries himself deep inside you, his warm cum filling you up.

Your poor arms give out from under you, your upper body collapsing on the bed. You’re panting, trying to come down from such an intense moment. Han remains inside you, a little afraid that if he does pull out, you’ll start dripping all over the bed. He pulls out, quickly bringing his hand to your ass, cupping around your hole just in case anything does fall out. He reaches over to get some tissues and he starts cleaning you up.

When he realizes that you haven't moved, his semi-drunk brain thinks he killed you. He frantically moves to see if you are indeed still alive, he lets out a breath of relief. You’re alive, snoozing away. He’s amused, you fell asleep so quickly after all of that exertion.

“Well, sweet dreams, YN-hyung.” He chuckles and makes himself comfortable under the blankets with you. You automatically latch onto him, nuzzling into his warm body, still very much asleep.

You don’t know what this means for the two of you, but that’s a conversation for sober YN and Han.

#kpop x male reader #stray kids x male reader #kpop x reader #stray kids x reader #male reader #stray kids smut #han jisung #han jisung x male reader

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