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niningtori · 1 day

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make you cry | part one

pairing: beomgyu x you

summary: beomgyu is your manwhore best friend who you've been secretly in love with for years. one night, he asks you to blur the lines between friendship and physical intimacy for his own convenience.

genre: ANGST, romance, smut (mdni), fwb

warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, creampie, dom!gyu, eventual sub!gyu, fingering (vaginal), dacryphilia, dirty talk, praise, if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 4.2k

notes: hi friends! i'm not completely satisfied with this, but i'd rather it be done than sitting in my drafts. pls don't be mean ;_;

being in love with your best friend is not for the faint of heart, you think. in some cases, it’s the easiest thing in the world, but beomgyu makes it difficult. he’s not a bad guy, at least not deep down, but as you watch him break the heart of another notch in his belt, you can’t help but shiver at the fact that he’d very easily do the same to you if you gave him that chance. not that you ever will, that is, but the thought still remains.

you met in grade school. for you, it was a classic case of love at first sight. you had just fallen off the swingset and the teacher had yet to notice you, so you were crying alone when he came up to you with a dinosaur bandaid in tow. he looked like an angel with the sun encircling him, and even as a child, you thought he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen as he held his little hand out for you to grasp. you had no chance to steel your heart when he asked you if you wanted to be friends, and after that, the rest is history.

that was years ago, but the image of him holding out his hand is engraved in your bones. you think about it even now as you watch him make the poor, unfortunate girl in front of you bawl like a baby. she asks him why he's doing this, what she did wrong, how she can fix it to make him stay. but he's dead set on breaking her heart tonight. and you'll be the one who takes his tipsy ass home after he's done ruining this girl’s perception of love. you’re nothing more than a glorified lackey and enabler, but that's just how it is.

“god, i don’t know why they can never just let go. they always have to make it so hard,” he grumbles in the passenger’s seat of your care. he seems more annoyed than genuinely upset and you can’t help but to feel for the girl who he just unceremoniously dumped in the middle of a house party, so you speak up for once.

“it’s not her fault, beoms. she just really likes you,” you reason. not that it matters, anyway, but you feel better after speaking your mind.

“so it’s my fault? i just don’t get it. i told her no strings attached from the beginning. the fact that she took it seriously is her own problem.” well, nevermind about feeling better. you feel even worse for her now.

“it’s hard not to get attached to you,” you mumble.

“what?” he asks, not even really paying attention to what you’re saying, but still asking for the sake of being (what he thinks is) polite.

“no, it’s nothing,” you reply quickly.

“mmm,” he nods, completely preoccupied with his own issues to really give a fuck about what you have to say. then, as if by a stroke of genius, he says his next words without much thought.

“i just thought of something! you would never act like that with me, would you?” you can’t help but scowl. of course you’d act like that. you’re a normal human being with normal feelings. you’ve already fallen for beomgyu without the physical intimacy, so you can’t imagine how you’d act if you actually had sex with him. but you can’t tell him that, or else he’d start suspecting something.

“i guess not,” you sigh.

“then why don’t we hook up instead?” he asks, genuinely earnest.

“no,” you say simply.

“why not?” he frowns, somewhat offended.

“i’m not interested,” you shrug. you don’t realize that your indifference has the opposite effect on beomgyu. what he perceives as your disgust only interests him more.

“c’mon, i’d definitely show you a good time,” he argues.

“i’m fine, thanks.”

“no, you’re not fine. you haven’t slept with anybody in months. not since what’s-his-name, right? it’s the perfect deal. i’ll give you the time of your life and i’ll get to fuck without any feelings involved.” you try your hardest not to say it’s too late for that. those words will never leave your mouth, though. or else he’d drop you like a hot potato.

“i said no and i mean no. besides, i kind of like somebody right now.” you’re not lying, really. you truly do like, even love, somebody right now, and he’s sitting right next to you.

“who is he?” he asks. “actually, your taste in men is so shit, i don't even wanna know.” usually, that would hurt your feelings, but this whole situation is so fucked up you can’t even find it in you to stifle your laugh.

“true.” he cocks an eyebrow at your answer. you should, in theory, vehemently deny this. just how shitty is this guy for you to not even put up a fight?

“okay, i lied. now i really wanna know. who is he? yeonjun?” he asks. you giggle even more.

“no. yeonjun is sweet, but no. and i’m not telling you, so you should give up.”

“you think yeonjun is sweet in comparison? damn, this guy must be fucking scum,” he laughs. you can’t help but shake your head with an airy laugh of your own. yeah, he’s so awful he even makes yeonjun look sweet. at least it seems like yeonjun has a conscience when he fucks somebody over. beomgyu, for the most part, has none.

“he’s not all bad,” you say softly, still smiling and resting your head on the headrest of your car.

“but still bad,” he argues.

“mhmm,” you hum. “still bad.”

beomgyu doesn’t mention hooking up again after that, and for that you are thankful, you think. is there a part of you that regrets not saying yes? in a way, you do. who wouldn’t want to be even closer to the one they love? but you know the closeness would be a lie. even if you were in closer proximity physically, he’d still be far away emotionally. too far to ever catch him. and so you sit at the counter of this shitty bar and watch him try to woo one of the prettiest girls you’ve ever seen, and by the looks of it, it’s working. you smile bitterly and down another shot, making your stomach feel hotter and hotter. you know that by the end of the night, you’ll feel sick, but you’d rather be physically sick and drunk rather than emotionally sick and sober.

“you okay?” kai asks, sliding into the seat next to yours and cutting into your daze with ease.

“aren’t i always?” you answer with a wry smile.

“it’s that bad, huh?” he asks. beomgyu is your best friend, sure, but kai is the only person in the world who knows about your feelings for him. he also feels like the only person in the world who would understand them.

“yeah, it is,” you mumble, downing yet another drink as you watch beomgyu grinding on the girl salaciously.

“wanna get out of here?” he asks sympathetically. you should say no. beomgyu will be angry that you left him, even if he’d ditch you in a heartbeat to get laid. but now, as you watch him shoving his tongue in the red-lipped mouth of the girl who will now be the impossible standard you’ll hold yourself to from hereon out, you can’t bring yourself to care.

“i do,” you smile, for real this time, and his grin matches yours.

you’re so drunk, you barely remember how you got home, but you’re here and so is hyuka. you don’t cry, even if he kind of wishes you would just so you could let it all out. you laugh, even, as he tells his dorky jokes and beats your ass in mario kart. things are going so well, you don’t even hear the pounding on your door until kai says something about it.

“i’ll get it,” he says soothingly when you unsteadily try to stand up.

“thanks, hyuka,” you smile. and that smile stays planted on your face until you see who’s at the door. beomgyu. and by the looks of it, he’s pissed.

“what the fuck is your problem?! how could you just leave me there alone?” he asks as soon as he’s let in. your face sinks and all prior happiness is washed away in an instant.

“you weren’t alone,” kai cuts in defensively. “she was alone until i came and got her.” beomgyu is actually a little embarrassed by this blatant callout, but he’d sooner die than admit it.

“well, she should’ve said something, at least,” he counters, face still hot and voice still as loud as ever.

“i thought you were going home with that girl,” you reply meekly.

“and you couldn’t just ask?!” he snaps.

“you’re being an asshole,” kai argues. “nobody wants to watch you tonguing down some random girl, and she’s not your babysitter.” the room is deathly quiet after this. beomgyu is fishing for words, but he’s too drunk to quite think of any at the moment. he wishes he were sober so he could put kai in his place, but the words never come. all he knows is he’s pissed beyond anything he can properly articulate and it’s driving him crazy.

“you’re drunk,” kai adds sternly. “go home.”

“hyuka, it's okay,” you say gently. “he's too drunk for that. he can crash on the couch.” beomgyu doesn't know why, but he scowls at the nickname.

“but —”

“it's okay,” you repeat. kai’s face looks torn.

“alright, then i'll head out,” he relents after a few seconds. “the both of you just need some sleep,” he says with a sharp glance towards beomgyu, who is still fuming, by the way.

“thank you,” you say with a terse smile. he returns it with a smile of his own and shuts the door behind him. beomgyu watches the entire interaction and somehow feels even worse.

“what the fuck was that? is he the guy you’re hung up on or something?”

“no!” you exclaim incredulously. “hyuka is a nice guy, and he’s just… helping me with some things right now.” you’re not the most eloquent person on a good day, much less while drunk, so that’s all you can really say at the moment.

“what ‘things’ could he possibly be helping you with?” he snaps before realization dawns on him. “you told him about that guy, didn’t you?! you can tell him but you can’t tell me?”

“he… he just understands,” you say. you knew beomgyu wouldn’t just let this shit go and be done with it. he’s like a child finding out his dog likes somebody better than he likes him, and it’s exhausting.

“are you sleeping with him?”

“what, no!” you say firmly.

“you are, aren’t you?” he sneers. “you won’t let me touch you, but you’re letting him?”

“is it so hard to believe that a man just wants to be my friend without wanting to fuck me?” truthfully, yes. you’re good looking and his experience tells him that men always harbor those intentions. well, he does, at least. and for some reason, as he looks at you in your big t-shirt and sweatpants, those intentions are brewing even more.

“beomgyu?” you ask tentatively. his eyes are so intense it seems like he’s even more pissed off, somehow. your innocent look stokes the flames of what’s already been burning for you.

as if he’s possessed, he stalks his way over to you, grabs your face before you can even react, and plants a bruising kiss on your soft lips. you gasp when he meanly takes your bottom lip between his teeth and he can’t help but chuckle. the kiss is cruel for so many reasons, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t knock you off of your feet. you’re usually so restrained around him for reasons only you and kai know, but you feel your inhibitions melt as his tongue enters your mouth. he tastes like alcohol, but then, so do you, and he doesn’t seem to mind. in fact, if his hungry kiss in any indication, he seems to love it.

one of his hands travel under your big hoodie and he tweaks your already hardened nipple between his fingers.

“does that feel good, baby?” he asks lowly, and you feel yourself becoming even more wet. you're too embarrassed to respond, but judging from his tone, he already knows your answer.

his kisses are unrelenting and fierce, no gentleness or care to be seen, but you’re so sweet he can’t control himself. he’s been wanting to do this ever since he hit puberty, but you’ve never seemed interested in him for reasons he can’t understand. but now, you seem more than interested as you let him lead you to your bedroom. he lays you down on your bed and takes off your sweatpants. when he sees you, naked and glistening just from a few touches, he licks his lips in anticipation.

“all this from a few kisses?” he teases, rubbing his fingers up and down your slit. you can do nothing but gasp in response as he pushes one of his long, calloused fingers into your heat.

“s-so tight, it’s sucking me in,” he moans. “i can’t wait to see how you feel around my cock.” he adds a second finger and curls, hitting your sweet spot. all you can do is moan as he takes his thumb and rolls your clit. he watches your body rise and fall with the pleasure and it fascinates him like nothing he’s ever seen. your eyes are screwed shut, but he can’t help but prod and tease to see the different facial expressions you show him. before long, he’s pounding into you. the sound of squelches mixed with your moans only goads him further and further until you’re clenching down mercilessly on his fingers.

“aww, does that feel good, baby?” he coos. “wanna feel even better?” post-release clarity should hit you right about now, but you’re only more eager when he removes his clothes. his lengthy cock, angry and reddened, springs up and slaps his stomach. you whimper at the sight and he smirks at how needy you are.

he hovers over you and slowly, agonizingly slowly, he begins to rub his stiffened length up and down your slit.

“gyu, you need a condom —” you begin to protest.

“why? i’m clean. and i don’t fuck just anyone raw,” he argues as the head of his cock comes dangerously close to hooking on your entrance. you’ve never been able to say no to him for any meaningful amount of time, so relenting isn’t out of the ordinary for you. but more than that, his words, though unromantic, spark a bit of hope in your heart. you’re special, you think.

“do you trust me?” he asks.

no. not at all.

“of course.” and he pushes in. his arrogance falters as you take him in, inch by throbbing inch. it’s a tight fit, and the way you clench around the tip of his cock only drives him further and further into madness. how can you feel so good? how can this feel so perfect?

your poor pussy is equal parts trying to suck him in and trying to resist so the intrusion is forced out. to him, it feels like heaven.

“t-tight!” he hisses. “relax, baby, or you’re gonna break me.” for some reason, his words comfort you, allowing him smooth entry until he’s completely sheathed in you. you both moan when he completely bottoms out, balls hitting your ass in the most lewd way. his precum mixed with the result of your release seep into the bedsheets. he stays there for just a moment, pushing your hair out of your face, and his next words are uncommonly tender.

“you look so pretty like this,” he muses, and you don’t even have time to blush before he’s unsteadily pulling out, pussy pulling him back in like it never wants him to leave, then thrusting back in again.

“oh m-my god,” he says as he begins to ram into you. “so good, baby. you’re taking me so well.”

“b-big!” is all you can manage to say as he continues to fuck you open.

“oh baby, are you going dumb on my cock? can’t even manage to get the words out, can you? it’s okay, don’t think. i’ll take care. of. you,” he says, punctuating each word with his mean thrusts.

you’re crying now, the pleasure too great to stifle your tears. beomgyu thinks you look absolutely lovely like this, lovelier than anyone he’s ever seen, especially when he looks at where you two are joined and watches himself enter and exit your puffy pussy. each gasp, each breathy whine you emit makes him feel crazier and crazier. he aches so much, he has no choice but to continue pounding into you until he's relieved. so he does. he’s gripping the plush of your thighs like he might die if he doesn’t have something to hold onto.

he leans over to give you a nasty kiss, all tongue and teeth. when he parts from you, a lewd string of saliva falls from your mouths and he can’t control the chuckle that escapes him when he sees your pupils are blown out as you flounder for his lips again.

“look, baby. look at how good i’m fucking you.” you look down and see how his cock protrudes from your tummy as he rams in and out of you. “nobody else has fucked you right, but don’t worry, i’ll make sure to fix that.” your pussy involuntarily clenches at his filthy words and it’s enough to make you come.

“c-coming!” you manage to choke out as you spasm around him, back arching deliciously. he follows soon after, thrusts becoming uneven before you feel his cum shooting inside of you.

fucking beomgyu comes naturally, and often. he can’t seem to keep his hands off of you. hooking up becomes almost a daily affair, but you’re so hungry for him you can’t bring yourself to protest. you fuck in his car, on his couch, over the fucking kitchen counter, even. all plans to go out with anyone else are immediately dashed in favor of being with him, instead. you feel yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with him, and even if you know, know, know it’s fruitless, you can’t help but relent when he looks at you like a man starved.

“this can’t be good for you,” kai tells you one evening in the comfort of your apartment. it’s a rare occurrence to have a free night from beomgyu’s clutches. kai hasn’t seen you in weeks because you’ve been too “busy” with beomgyu.

“well, i know,” you sigh, too tired to argue with him.

“if you know, then why do you do it?” he asks tentatively. you can’t help but give him a look.

“you know why,” you say.

“he's just messing with your head. you know this can't end well.” you flinch at the word “end”. you know it, he knows it, beomgyu surely fucking knows it, but you can’t help but give in every time. “what are you gonna do when he inevitably fucks you over? and he will, just like always.”

“i… i’ll deal with it when the time comes,” you protest. he sees your defeated expression and lightly tilts your head so it’s resting on his shoulder. your retribution for your actions was always well on its way, but you didn’t know it would come so soon.

you hear a key turning in the door. there’s only one person in the world you’ve given a spare to, so you aren’t surprised in the slightest when beomgyu walks in with that signature smirk on his face. he scowls a bit when he’s greeted with the scene of you and kai sitting so intimately.

“am i interrupting something?” he scoffs as you raise your head from kai’s shoulder.

“no,” kai replies before you can even fix your lips to respond. to your mild surprise, he doesn't push any further.

“whatever,” he shrugs, plopping down next to the two of you and pulling out his phone.

“wanna see this girl whose number i got today?” he asks casually, swiping through his phone eagerly. so that's why he didn't wanna meet up. your heart feels like a hole’s been blown straight through it. you and kai share a deep look, which beomgyu completely misses as he pulls up a picture of a beautiful looking girl.

“this is her,” he says with a triumphant smirk. you don’t — can’t — respond. you just have a blank look on your face.

“what?” he asks petulantly. “she’s really pretty, look!” he insists, pulling up another picture. “she’s one of the hottest girls i’ve seen in a minute.”

any last shred of hope or dignity you have is strangled in its crib at his careless words. your eyes are hot and your stomach hurts so much you feel like you’re going to vomit. kai notices your discomfort and decides to put a stop to this once and for all.

“alright, that’s enough,” kai snaps. “nobody wants to see that shit.”

“what’s your fucking problem?” beomgyu retorts.

“my problem is that you’re a fucking moron. grow up.” beomgyu’s not one to get physical, at least not in a violent sense, but he’s on the precipice of breaking that streak at kai’s harsh words.

“stop, hyuka. it’s okay,” you say softly. beomgyu is so furious, he almost forgot you’re here, but he's genuinely confused by kai’s words.

“what's okay? what is it that you're not telling me?” beomgyu asks.

“it's not okay, actually. he’s fucking you but he comes around and pulls this shit right in front of you?! she won’t say it, but i will.”

“kai, don’t —”

“she doesn’t care! no strings attached, that’s always been the deal.”

“you may be stupid as fuck, but surely you’re not that stupid,” kai sneers. “so if you say you don’t already know, you’re just a fucking liar.” beomgyu pauses at this. is he saying what he thinks he’s saying? surely you didn’t catch feelings, right? but one look at your face, and he knows kai is telling the truth.

but why? and when?

“since when did you…”

“since always,” you say quietly.

“oh, fuck. look, i —”

“it’s okay. i already know,” you cut in. and you do already know, but you can’t bear to hear him say it. beomgyu, in all his glory, processes this and instead of regret, all he feels is anger.

“i’m the piece of shit guy you can’t get over? are you fucking serious?”

“hyuka, you should go,” you say instead of letting him watch the melodrama unfolding before him. kai looks uncertainly between the both of you before relenting.

“call me later, okay?” he says, wiping tears from your eyes that you didn’t realize had fallen.

“okay,” you reply with a sad smile. he sends beomgyu one last scathing look before gathering his shit and slamming the door behind him.

“you tricked me!” beomgyu exclaims as soon as the door shuts. “i would’ve never fucked you if i knew you’d be like this.” just like everyone else. he doesn’t need to voice the last part, but you already know he wants to say it, which just hurts you even more.

“did you really not know, or were you just pretending not to know ‘cause it’d be inconvenient for you?” that shuts him up. kai was right, he’d be stupid not to know. maybe not at first, but surely along the way. surely when you’d look at him so longingly after sleeping with him, or the way you’d look so sad when he didn't stay after sex.

“listen, i’m so sorry that you’re scared, or angry, or whatever it is you’re feeling. i really am. but are you so selfish that you really think nobody else is afraid to have their heart broken? and do you think that means you’re allowed to hurt everyone else instead?” you ask quietly. every new word pierces his heart like nothing he's ever felt before. he wants to say something, but for the life of him, he can’t think of anything quite fitting.

“i think you should leave,” you say after what feels like an eternity of silence. he looks at you with watery eyes and you almost feel guilty, but you’re through with feeling things for him that he’d never have the courtesy to feel for you. “go,” you repeat defeatedly, striding to the door and holding it open for him and he feels more and more like a rat you want to chase out of your home.

he looks like he wants to say something, but one look at you tells him you’re done listening. with heavy feet and an even heavier heart, he heads through the doorway, pausing only before he’s about to cross the threshold. he has a sinking feeling in his gut that tells him this is probably the last time he’ll be here.

“are we still friends after this?” he asks lowly, eyes wide and more desperate than you’ve ever seen them.

“no,” you say simply, and shut the door.

notes: not a ton of smut in this part, but i think the next part will have more i fear.

taglist: @my313 @superbbananananana @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @everythingvirgoes @beomnoullitheorem @sunny4cast

#niningtori #make you cry #beomgyu smut #beomgyu angst #beomgyu hard thoughts #txt hard hours #beomgyu hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt smut #txt angst #txt x reader #beomgyu x reader #mdni

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lcvclywon · 1 day

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in sickness and in health

back to masterlist

synopsis After a long fight with Jay you find yourself giving him the silent treatment. Leaving you curled up alone sick in your room, with your only comfort being the instant tteokbokki you had microwaved for yourself earlier. However it seems Jay knew where to be and what to say at exactly the right times.

warnings: mentions of food, mentions of sickness, mentions of kissing, pet names (honey), slight angst, I made YN as the 6th member of lesserafim so that the whole same building thing made sense so...js roll with it pls 😁, also not proof read!, slight fighting

genre ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ hurt to comfort

pairings: idol!jay x idol!reader, established relationship

wc ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ around 1.14k

thoughts frm yuya 💭 i know i said i was gonna go on a hiatus but i needed a serotonin boost from writing after doing a horrendous maths paper.... so semi hiatus i guess ^^ anywaysss this drabble has been rotting in the back of my mind for a while soo here u are, i'm a huge huge HUGE sucker for hurt to comfort tropes so >,<

A week. It had been a week since you and Jay had a massive argument causing the two of you to give each other the silent treatment for god knows how long. However, as if the world was out to get you, the next morning after the fight you had been plagued with a sickness that you couldn’t quite pin down, all you knew was it left you bedridden until Friday.

Due to said sickness, you obviously couldn’t join your group for schedules and barely entered the building for dance practice. You hoped Jay would at least notice your absence, send a message asking where you were or something. But to your dismay, radio silence.

“Who cares about some stupid guy anyways…” Grumbling under your breath you reached for your chopsticks to skewer another rice cake from your measly plate of instant tteokbokki and shovel it down your throat. Maybe excessive spice you couldn’t handle and soft pillowy rice cakes could solve all your problems.

Ding dong! Weird, you didn’t think the members would be back this early?

Begrudgingly ripping the covers off and placing your bowl back on your table, you went to the door. Hair still an oily mess from not showering properly and clothes stuck to your body from sweat, you clearly weren’t in pristine condition to be meeting anyone. Please don’t be a delivery man, please don’t be a delivery man.

However, after opening the door, you found yourself standing in front of the one person you’d been longing for the whole week. Park Jongseong. Your gaze softened slightly and a small smile crept onto your lips, but then you remembered that you were still mad at him. Fighting the urge to embrace him and cry out for his name, you plastered on a stoic expression of indifference.

“What are you doing here.”

“Chaewon told me you were sick,” he said before entering into your dorm, not bothering to wait for you to let him in.

Making his way over to the kitchen he placed a white takeaway bag onto the counter before emptying its contents onto the table: a warm bowl of your favourite porridge and a cup of tea from your favourite cafe.

“What’s this?” positioning yourself in front of Jay, you scanned the table to see the numerous small boxes of side dishes sprawled across.

“Porridge, it’s good for you when you’re sick.” he replied before shooting his head over to the remnants of your tteokbokki “Honey why are you eating tteokbokki, you’re sick you shouldn’t be eating instant food.” he scolded before reaching over throw your lukewarm leftovers in the trash.

“It’s not that bad…” you mumbled whilst picking at the side dishes “And why do you suddenly care, thought you weren’t talking to me” Scoffing you shot him a dirty glare.

“Correction, you weren’t talking to me; I thought you needed some space, as you usually do after a fight.” well he wasn’t wrong, you did express to him that after arguments you wanted some time to cool down by yourself, “and also, I’m not ‘suddenly’ just caring YN. Who do you think Yunjin got all those drinks, medicines, and snacks from.”

Oh… so she didn’t buy them herself. Your gaze reached his eyes as you felt your heart soften slightly, “Okay, well you could’ve sent me a text or something. You could’ve come here and given it to me yourself, why today out of all days do you decide to come huh?” meeting your glossy eyes, Jay could tell how hurt you were over his actions. He couldn’t deny that it pained him to see you this upset.

“Okay look, I’m sorry. I wanted to come over, but Sakura said whatever you caught was contagious and that you isolated yourself to make sure you got nobody else sick. As I mentioned earlier, you told me you liked to have time to cool down after fighting, but it was stupid of me not to even try to text you. Today it all just-” Jay stopped his rambling, catching his breath before sighing out, “I just really missed you YN”

That was all the confirmation you needed to run into his arms and hug him so tight he didn’t even think about leaving again. Jay was quick to reciprocate, arms wrapping around you to engulf you into his warm embrace, head buried into the crook of your neck whispering sweet nothings.

Breaking away from the embrace and tilting your head up you were graced with a warm and familiar smile painted across Jay’s face; a smile you so badly missed the entire week.

“Don’t ever do that again.” you said with a pout

“Promise I won't honey,” his hands reached to cup your face before adding, “Only if you promise to stop eating that stuff when you’re sick.”

“Hey, it’s yummy! I can’t help it that I can’t cook soup or anything, tteokbokki has never failed me.”

“Guess I’ll have to keep bringing you food then.” he replied with a smirk

“Well, I could use a personal delivery man.” giggling you reached up to mirror his actions, cupping his face with your warm hands.

“Oh really, would a delivery man do this?” and with that he pressed a playful peck onto your lips; soft and gentle, something you missed dearly.

“Jay!” you exclaimed, “You can’t do that, you’ll get sick!”

“So. What.” he said between pecks, peppering your face with kisses as you giggled and placed your hands on his chest to try and push him away. Pulling away he looked into your eyes with a warm and gentle gaze, smiling softly before leaning in to give you a proper kiss. Feeling the worry of your sickness transferring to him vanish, you melted into the kiss whilst wrapping your arms around his neck. In response, his hand found its way to the small of your back while the other reached up to cup the back of your neck. It always astonished you how easily he could pull you into his orbit, almost made you forget about the soreness of your body and the fever plaguing you.

Retreating back he giggled at your pouting face. “I’d love to continue, but I wouldn’t want the food I bought you to get cold” intertwining your fingers with his, he led you over to a chair before sitting you down. “Let’s eat okay?” he muttered before taking his spot right next to yours, hand still intertwined with your fingers. His other hand however reached over to spoon you some porridge, moving the utensil closer to your mouth.

You happily bent forward to enjoy the bite he crafted for you, an all too familiar sensation bubbling up within you—a warmth you could only describe as, home. Jay felt like home. And you hoped he would for the rest of your lives.

perm taglist ♡ (send an ask to be added!) @floweryang

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eyesfullofsttars · 2 days

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☆ obsessed with the idea of ellie & abby being mothers

synopsis: a few headcanons of abigail and ellie being mothers, from the way they raise the baby to the smallest details!!!

notes: hiii!!! i've just been thinking about these two being mothers for the past few days and this came up—sorry if it's simple or too dumb. (don't take it too seriously pls)

I'm still not sure whether they would prefer having a girl or a boy. It seems it wouldn't matter much to them, as they would raise the baby the same way regardless. However, these two are mothers of a boy!!!

They speak to their baby as though he were a responsible adult who understands everything perfectly and frown when someone uses a high-pitched voice or baby talk.

Abby is the one who always gets up in the middle of the night if the baby cries. She automatically wakes up and goes to see what's wrong with her son.

Meanwhile, Ellie doesn't wake up at night, but she reads a dinosaur book to the baby before bed, tucks him in, and gives him a goodnight kiss on the forehead.

Ellie is enthusiastic about her baby, playing energetically and carefree, tickling him, putting him on her shoulders, and playing with his hands. She's proud of her baby and believes he's the best.

Abby is not so calm, paying attention to her son's safety. She comes from a family of doctors —she's a doctor herself— and watches Ellie carefully whenever she holds the baby. Abby feels the need to keep her son close at all times, either in her strong arms or on her lap, playfully touching his nose or gently stroking his hair.

Ellie can spend hours watching Abby take a nap with their baby. She sees Abby sitting on the couch with the baby on her lap, cuddled against her chest and holding her shirt tightly with his small hand, afraid of losing contact. They breathe softly, calmly together, which Ellie finds adorable — making her feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

At first, Abby worried about seeing Ellie handle the baby so lightly, but she has become accustomed to Ellie's relaxed attitude. Abby watches carefully to avoid accidents, but one of her favorite things is listening to her baby and Els laugh together at something silly Ellie does, causing Abby to laugh too.

Abby "I want to name our son after a writer" Anderson versus Ellie "Let's name our son after a constellation" Williams — Els won!

Ellie helps her son learn to speak by playing her guitar, singing songs about letters, animals, and the names of family and friends.

Abby cheers and celebrates every time she sees the baby trying to stand, keeping his balance by holding onto the couch. She's proud of her little prodigy and also believes her baby is the best.

Ellie lets her son trace the lines of her tattoo and even color the spaces with markers. She accepts without complaint, extending her arm for her child to do his art.

Abby lets her son comb her hair. She loosens her blonde hair and trusts her baby's hands as he tries to comb her long hair, clumsily attempting a braid but failing.

Ellie can't help but swear in front of the baby, as she hasn't managed to change her language yet. She often ends up letting out a curse word, especially when the baby does something that excites her.

She might say something like, “Fuck yeah, you're so intelligent, kiddo!” Or, whenever the baby cries for no reason, Ellie will get completely flustered and not know what to do, like, “What the hell do you want from me, dude? I can't help you if you don't tell me!”

On the other hand, Abby doesn't see the appeal in swearing in front of their son. So, whenever a curse word slips out of Ellie's mouth, Abby quickly exclaims; “Language, Williams!”

No matter where she is in the house, she can always hear Ellie swearing, which ends with Ellie responding with something like, “Fuck, sorry, babe. Shit, right, sorry, buddy. It just comes out like verbal vomit; I can't control it.”

Every time a rock song plays, Ellie can't help but do headbanging, and her son joins her in the fun. Both end up in the kitchen, energetically moving their heads to the music and dancing around.

For every special occasion, such as Valentine's Day, birthdays, or even Easter, Abby doesn't hesitate to buy flowers for Ellie and her son.

Both understand their child perfectly. The child might babble something unintelligible, but they simply nod, comprehending every word.

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callsign-rogueone · 23 hours

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thank you - g.t.

Garrick Tavis x reader Garrick shows you how grateful he is that you saved his life, and how much he missed you while you were apart. Or, what caused all those sunflowers to sprout in the hallway. part of Garrick and Angel’s story (fits into what was I made for?) words: 4.0k 🏷 NSFW. set during IF, but no spoilers in this one. this is 4k of straight up sex. afab reader who is referred to as a girl a few times (I cannot write smut without at least one "attagirl" in there, I'm sorry) makeout, groping, fingering, unprotected piv (don’t do that), a lot of swearing from Garrick lmao, fluffy lovey future talk, several I-love-you’s and a casual marriage proposal in there somewhere, aftercare and cuddles 🥰 still working on my smut skills, so pls be gentle with me hsfdj

As soon as the door closes, Garrick’s hands are all over you; pulling you close and kneading the plush of your hips, smoothing over your sides. He’s just groping you, for lack of a better word, but it feels good and you don’t want him to stop.

“Gare, what are you— oh,” you breathe, your eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his lips trailing over your jaw.

“M’ reminding you,” he says, placing a kiss behind your ear, “that I am very much alive,” another kiss to your neck, “and showing you how thankful I am that you saved my life. Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” you manage, already out of breath. “That's okay.”

“Good. Now just relax for me, angel. Let me do the work, hm?”

You stutter out an uh-huh, already feeling yourself start to slip into that familiar soft and fuzzy headspace, ready to be taken care of.

He settles into your desk chair like he owns the place, parting his legs and tapping the space between them. “Foot up.”

You rest your boot on the edge of the seat, letting him pull at the laces and slide the shoe off, dropping it onto the floor with a soft thud. You start to move your leg down, but strong hands close around your calf, his fingertips pressing into the tight muscle through the fabric of your pants, silently working out the knots. You sigh softly, feeling the tension slip away.

He taps the back of your leg twice, and you switch, setting your other boot on the seat. He takes his time with the laces, loosening each row carefully before removing it, continuing to massage away the soreness from the morning’s workout.

Another two taps, and you lower your socked foot to the floor.

He guides you forward with a strong hand on each of your hips, until you’re standing directly in front of him.

You’re mesmerized by the soft look on his face as he slowly starts to remove your arsenal, setting the few small blades behind him on your desk in a neat row — Failsafe last, and the most gently. You didn’t realize he knew where they all were, but then again, he knows everything about you.

He starts to peel away your uniform, slipping off your flight jacket, which now bears the proper Lieutenant’s insignia to match his, dropping it next to your boots.

You’re hit with a wave of self-consciousness as he helps you out of your shirt. The last time he undressed you like this, you were in his room at Basgiath, nearly five months ago, and in that time you’ve no longer been forced to overexert yourself every day, no longer in a constant state of fight-or-flight… you don’t look exactly how you used to.

Your worries face quickly, brushed away by his soft words and the gentle brush of his hands over your skin.

“Missed this perfect body so much,” he murmurs against your collarbone, his hands settling on your waist. “So soft, so nice to hold, to kiss…”

He unbuttons your pants with ease, guiding them down your legs and smoothing his hands over your hips, letting you step out the rest of the way and kick them aside along with your socks. He presses a few soft kisses to your tummy before he pulls back.

“C’mere,” he coaxes, patting his thigh.

You climb into his lap without hesitation, the chair creaking under your combined weight, but that’s the least of your worries — he’s still wearing far too much clothing.

He’d said that he wanted to do all the work, but he doesn’t protest as you tug at his shirt, untucking it from his pants; he just gives you that smug grin you adore, slipping it over his head easily and tossing it aside.

You will never tire of the sight of him shirtless, all that thick muscle on full display, his relic contrasting with his pale skin so beautifully, curling up his arm and onto his shoulder…

He has a few new scars on his sides, ones you know weren’t there before you were sent to Resson — a long, shallow slice on his left and what you really hope wasn’t a stab wound on the right. Both are fully healed, and likely too old for you to do anything about them, but you still reach out to trace them with gentle fingertips; a soft, loving touch, an acknowledgment of his pain and a silent apology that you weren’t there to heal them for him.

“I didn’t want to worry you,” he begins quietly, anticipating the soft lecture you always give him whenever he comes home injured.

You lean forward to give him a soft kiss. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re safe.”

You rub your hands over his sides for a moment, admiring the planes of muscle, the definition and strength under your palms. You dip your fingertips into his waistband, intending to undress him further, but he stops you, a gentle hand wrapping around your wrist.

“This is supposed to be about you,” he says playfully, nudging your nose with his.

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Just let me love you.”

“Always.”

You sigh happily as his lips connect to yours again, his arm wrapping around your waist to keep you upright. You’d missed being this close to him, missed the hours you would spend just like this, sitting in his lap, giving each other lazy kisses.

His fingers hook into the leather cord around your neck, tugging on it gently, and you move back to let him pull it up over your head. He holds it carefully, setting it on the desk with your knives.

In the few days that you’ve had it back, you’ve gotten used to the weight of the runestone hanging there, and you feel a little anxious in its absence despite it being only a few feet away. You touch your fingertips to your chest subconsciously, feeling only warm skin and the beat of your heart.

He realizes what’s wrong, reaching behind him to take it off the desk and put it back where it belongs, but you shake your head no, putting your hand down.

“I’m okay,” you reassure. “Just feels a little weird being without it.”

You know he understands — he was the one who had the idea to make it into a necklace for you after you’d refused to put it down for days, nearly spraining your hand from constantly gripping it so tightly. He’d been enraged when he realized Varrish had taken it from you.

“Just let me know if you want it back, okay?”

You nod, your noses brushing with the movement. “Okay.”

“Attagirl.”

His hands settle back on your hips, his head dipping down to kiss over your heart where the cold stone would normally rest, just above the tight binding you wear every day. He hooks his fingers into the hem, pulling it down slowly until your breasts spill out over it.

“Missed this,” he murmurs, sliding his hands up your ribs to knead at your chest. “So soft, so nice to play with…”

Your breath catches as he starts to rub his thumbs over your nipples, soft brushes back and forth that send a pleasant, tingly feeling through you.

“Sit up a little for me?”

You straighten up quickly, adjusting your position in his lap with a few more concerning creaks from the chair that you choose to ignore.

He leans down, flicking the tip of his tongue over your nipple, and you clap a hand to your mouth, trying to keep quiet — your friends are in their rooms across the hall, and you’d be mortified if they heard you.

He pulls back, brushing his hands over your ribs soothingly. “I put up a sound shield, angel. You can just let it out. Wanna hear all those pretty noises you make.”

With that, he leans in again, licking at you the same way he does when he goes down on you, alternating between soft laps of his tongue and sucking gently, right where you’re most sensitive.

You whine softly, rocking your hips against his in search of friction.

He hums in acknowledgment, but doesn’t stop, just switches sides, continuing to suck and lick and squeeze, keeping one hand on your back to hold you steady while you squirm in his lap.

If patience is a virtue, then Garrick Tavis should be sanctified for all eternity.

You don’t think you’ve ever been this needy in your life, this desperate for something, anything, to lessen the ache between your thighs. You know that he needs this as badly as you do, you can feel how hard he is through the thick fabric of his uniform, throbbing underneath you, but he isn’t going to let up any time soon -- you haven’t had the chance to do anything like this for months, being clear across the country from each other; he’s going to take his sweet time with you.

You’re about to ask if you can speed this up a little when he finally pulls back, kissing his way back up your chest before he stands up, walking you toward the bed. You squeak, clinging to him tightly, but he keeps you in place, strong arms hooked under your legs as he crosses the room.

“I’d never drop you, angel,” he murmurs, laying you back against the pillows and sitting by your side. “I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

“I know,” you whisper, gazing up at him.

“Good,” he says softly, giving you a sweet, chaste kiss. “Comfy?”

You hum in affirmation.

He rests a hand on your thigh, and you part your legs on instinct, knowing where this is headed. He gives you a smug smile. “Eager, are we?”

Your cheeks warm in embarrassment, but you don’t deny it — you’re very eager for him to touch you where you need it most.

“Relax for me,” he soothes, slipping his hand beneath the hem of your underwear and starting to circle your clit with gentle fingertips.

You sigh softly, settling a little deeper into the cushions and letting your eyes fall shut.

They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, and you don’t doubt that — you’ve never felt more overwhelmed with love for Garrick in your life than you did today — but it also makes every touch, every kiss, that much more intense. You haven’t felt this good since the last time you were with him like this, in his room at Basgiath, but this is even better.

There’s something about his touch that feels so much better than your own, no matter how many times you’d tried to recreate it yourself while he was away.

Maybe it’s the feeling of his fingertips, the skin a little rougher than yours from all his extra training, or the thickness and length of his fingers, filling you so nicely and reaching that special little spot so easily, pressing up against it and sending gentle waves of pure pleasure through your body. Or maybe it’s the tenderness with which he holds you, the gentle hand cradling your cheek and the taste of his lips as he kisses you slow and sweet, or the warmth of his body against yours, all that soft muscle to rest on, and the smell of his cologne…

Whatever it is, there’s no comparing it to just your hand and your imagination — you had stopped trying entirely after two very disappointing attempts, unable to get yourself there on your own no matter how long you tried. But now, after less than two minutes, you can feel your muscles tightening, feel that pressure building between your hips, your heart racing…

You’re nearly there, and Garrick knows it. He reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers to ground you, and resting his forehead against yours. “It’s okay, angel. I’ve got you.”

You make an effort to deepen your breaths, shutting your eyes and focusing on Garrick; the feeling of his hand holding yours, the softness of his touch and the warm glow of his presence beside you.

You gasp, a rush of energy flowing through you a split second before you tighten around his fingers, crying out his name.

He feels it too, hears the soft rustle of leaves around you as all of the small potted plants you’d taken inside to save from the winter cold start to grow, leafing and blooming across every available surface.

He looks over his shoulder, amused. “That’s new.”

Your cheeks heat with embarrassment, your heart still racing as you come down from your first orgasm in four months. “Sorry,” you stammer reflexively, stunned. “I had no idea that would happen.”

“Don’t apologize, angel. It’s cute. And I like seeing you feel good. Like hearing it, too.” He strokes his hand over the curve of your hip soothingly.

“Anything hurting?” he asks, gentle concern in his eyes. Since you told him about the pain your signet had caused you, he’s been checking in with you multiple times a day, especially after any form of physical exertion.

You shake your head no. “Never better,” you say with a lazy smile, still catching your breath.

You fight the sleepy feeling that’s already settling into your bones- it’s been a long day, and he’s succeeded in wringing all the tension from your body, but you still want to please him, dote on him the way he did for you.

It’s been so long since you’ve been able to please him, after all your time apart and how tired you’d been your entire third year with all those long shifts at the infirmary. Getting on your knees for him is the least you can do after that earth-shattering orgasm he gave you, and he’s always so gentle with you when you do, holding your hair back and praising you all the while… the thought has you pressing your thighs together with need.

You sit up, reaching for the waistband of his pants, but he takes your hand in his, stroking his thumb over your knuckles. “If you’re up for it, I’d really like to make love to you right now instead.”

You flush at the words, nodding your permission a little too eagerly, and he laughs, giving you another soft kiss before he pulls back to take off the rest of his clothes.

No matter how many times you’ve seen him like this, you still can’t help but stare. All the hours he spends in the gym with the boys and all those crack-of-dawn leadership runs have seriously paid off — his entire body is coated with plush muscle, and it’s undeniably attractive.

You take the opportunity to pull off your underwear, tossing them to the floor before he climbs back up, settling between your legs. His body covers yours completely, broad shoulders taking up most of your vision, but you don’t feel caged in or trapped; you feel safe, protected, loved.

“Hi,” you whisper, blinking up at him.

He smiles, your nose brushing his as he leans down to give you a soft kiss. “Hi, my love.”

He braces himself on a strong forearm by your head, one hand smoothing over your thigh and hooking under your knee to raise your leg over his hip.

You can feel how close he is to you, the slick glide of his cock through your wetness, stroking up and down and sliding over your clit.

“Please, Gare,” you whimper, shifting your hips in an effort to get him to stop teasing. “Need you.”

“You have me,” he replies, resting his forehead against yours. “You’ll always have me.”

Your breath hitches at the feeling of your bodies finally connecting. He’s worked you up so well that he could just sink right in, but he still takes it slowly, inching deeper and deeper until every little bit of space you have to offer is taken up. You fit together perfectly, like you were made for one another.

“I mean it, angel. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to give you the life you deserve,” he continues. “You do so much for everyone. I just want to take care of you, take that weight off your shoulders and give you a place to rest, protect you from all the hurt in the world, keep you safe and warm, show you how much I love you… That’s all I’ve wanted for years.”

He draws back ever so slightly, moving forward, and your jaw drops in a soft gasp. You can feel his heart beating against yours, feel just how genuine every word is. It’s almost overwhelming, feeling the whole room teeming with life and love, that warm energy that’s enveloped the both of you.

“I thought I was going to lose you,” you whisper, as if you’re afraid that saying it aloud will make it come true. “When I saw you like that… it felt like the world stopped turning. I don’t know if I could live without you.”

“You’ll never have to,” he promises. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be with you for the rest of our days. It doesn’t matter where we are — here, or that godsforsaken school, or anywhere on the continent; you’re home to me. You’re my safe place, where I can let my guard down and relax, where I can feel what I need to feel.”

You reach up to hold his jaw, guiding him down into a kiss; wet and messy, broken up by your soft gasps, but loving, grounding.

He’s starting to slip, to lose his composure — he needed this just as badly as you did, and it feels like heaven for both of you. “Gods, angel, you feel so good,” he pants, picking up the pace. “Needed this so badly, missed this so much…”

You’ve very rarely seen Garrick out of breath; not during his workouts, nor flight training or anything else — only when he’s so deep inside you like this, chasing the release you both need so desperately.

He reaches down to stroke your clit, gentle little circles that make the pressure build faster, intensifying everything.

“Gare,” you whimper in response, not presently capable of saying much else — not when your mind is this hazed with pleasure and all the sweet words he’s whispering to you, all the promises he’s making.

“I know, angel, I know,” he pants. He does know, knows that those soft little pleas and the way you’re tightening your grip on him means you’re right there, that if he keeps doing what he’s doing, it’ll make you cum again, and that’s exactly what he plans to do.

There’s nothing he loves more than watching you like this, so close to the edge, all soft and wet and brainless under him, looking up at him so fucking prettily, pure adoration in your eyes; completely at his mercy, but trusting that he’ll take care of you, that he’ll be gentle and loving— and he always is.

That’s why you chose him.

“I love you,” you pant, finally forming words.

“I love you too, angel. I love you so much,” he breathes.

You hear it again, those rustling leaves and blooming flowers, but this time there’s the sound of breaking pottery and falling books along with it.

Neither of you let that distract you, your eyes still locked on each other’s, hands still clasped together tightly as he continues to rock his hips against yours, continues those soft little circles on your clit until you shatter, your eyes rolling back and sweet little whimpers pouring from your lips.

Cumming on his fingers was nice, but this is so much better -- feeling so whole, your heart and your lungs and the deepest parts of you filled with Garrick’s presence, feeling him pressed against you after so many nights apart…

It’s simultaneously too much and not enough. You hold him impossibly closer, your fingers digging into the thick muscle of his shoulders and your legs wrapping around his hips, wanting him to stay like this, nice and deep, rocking into you so deliciously, his entire body pressed up against yours.

You can tell he’s right there with you -- his grip on your waist has tightened, his rhythm faltering and his breaths shaking.

“That’s it, angel, just like that,” he rasps. “Feel so fucking good wrapped around me like this, taking me so well… missed you so much, my perfect girl, my soulmate… I can’t wait to marry you, to call you my wife, settle down with you… oh, fuck,”

You tangle a hand into the dark curls at the back of his neck and yank him down for a kiss.

He struggles to kiss back, gasping and panting against your lips as he nears the edge. It doesn’t take long before he stiffens, his eyes rolling back with a gorgeous little moan as he spills into you.

With a few slow rocks of his hips to ride it out, he collapses onto the mattress beside you, winded. “Gods,” he pants, his arms shaking from the prolonged effort of holding himself up. “that was…”

You laugh, tilting your head up to give him a soft kiss. “Yeah. It was.”

He slips an arm underneath your back and rolls you both over so you’re laying on his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist. You rest your knees on either side of his hips, keeping him tucked inside your warmth a little while longer.

You can feel your combined sweat and arousal dripping down your thighs, but you don't have it in you to care about that right now — he’s tired you out, but not in the way that the school had; no, he’s relaxed you so deeply that it’s bordering on hypnosis. A soft, fuzzy kind of tired, sweet and sleepy and safe. You focus on the warmth of his body and the slowing rise and fall of his chest underneath you, trying to match your breathing to his, to synchronize your heartbeats.

He strokes a hand over your back, from your shoulders to the base of your spine, up and down, up and down. “You okay, angel?” he asks softly, sounding a little worried.

You nod your head yes against his shoulder, cuddling into him further and closing your eyes. “M’ perfect.”

He laughs softly. “Damn right you are.”

Your cheeks warm at the praise, as if he hadn’t spent the last hour telling you just that.

“We made a bit of a mess, huh?”

You turn your head to see the state of your floor and the desk — overgrown with tangled vines and flowers, many of the clay pots having shattered from the rapid growth of the roots inside. The wall to your left is covered in ivy, wrapping over your bookshelf, many of the volumes having been knocked to the floor.

A physical testament to your love, of the growth and life you’re capable of when you have each other -- and a giant mess that you are absolutely not going to deal with tonight.

“I’ll clean it up in the morning,” you mumble, your cheek still pressed into his shoulder. “jus’ wanna be with you right now.”

He hums in acknowledgment, pressing a lazy kiss to your forehead.

“Gare?” you ask quietly.

“Yes, my angel?” he answers, fighting a yawn.

“I want all of that, too,” you say softly. “The settling-down stuff.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you answer, closing your eyes and picturing it. “A house of our own, with a giant garden where I can grow every kind of flower on the continent. And an apple tree, so I can make pie every year for your birthday.”

“Two kids,” he adds sleepily. “A boy and a girl. And a couple of dragons.”

“Someday,” you sigh. “But until then, I’m happy staying right here.” You nuzzle your cheek against his chest, over his heart.

“Someday,” he murmurs in agreement.

You both hope that day can come soon.

#Garrick and Angel #garrick tavis #garrick tavis x reader #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing smut #reader insert #smut #18+#mine

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