#I hate feeling so alone constantly and actually being alone most of the time

[justlemmeadoreyou]

Can I request for an blurb?? Never requested to anyone but I have this idea!!

So like H nd reader is in a relationship but H being famous nd all so because of that media nd his fans doesn't know he is in relationship nd to hide that thing he had to do PR relationship with someone else!! Nd he doesn't acknowledge that he had being ignoring reader nd spending more time with that pr girl!! So one day H came home nd reader was crying nd saying to H "do you love me?? Nd saying please don't leave me" nd H assure her she is it nd in few months he proposed the reader by saying how she is the only girl for him nd to never doubt his love for her!!

Ahh so sorry for such a lengthy request!! Nd it's okay if you don't wanna write!!:)

words: 4k (sorry!!!)

warnings: angst, lots of it. a fake pr, crying, some smut too. happy ending.

i changed this a bit, especially the ending. hope you don't hate this!

***

"I miss you," you whispered into the dark emptiness of your bedroom, clutching Harry's pillow tight. Another restless night alone while he was off being pictured with that pretty model for their fake relationship.

When would this torment end? Your heart ached constantly from the secrecy and lies shredding your real romance with Harry. All you wanted was to be open about your love...

It had started off so blissfully a year ago when you literally crashed into Harry outside of a coffee shop. You'd been rushing out the door, distracted and clumsy as always, when you rammed straight into a solid wall of human. Your face went bright red as you scrambled to pick up your scattered belongings.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry! I'm such a disaster, I seriously need to watch where I'm going..." you babbled, finally looking up into the kindest pair of green eyes you'd ever seen.

The man was watching you with an amused tilt to his soft lips. Something about his tousled chestnut hair and casual style felt vaguely familiar, though you couldn't quite place him. 

"No worries at all, it's my fault. Are you alright?" He asked in a deep, sumptuous voice that made you shiver.

As realization dawned, your mortified expression deepened. "Oh wow...you're...I just headbutted Harry Styles in the stomach."

He laughed easily, dimples flashing as he bent to help gather your dropped papers. "Very impressive ab attack there. Been taking self-defense classes?"

You flushed again at his playful teasing, finding yourself surprisingly flustered by this international superstar's carefree charm. Most celebrities seemed to carry an air of inflated ego, but Harry radiated a humble warmth.

"Do you, er, come to this cafe often?" He asked curiously as you both stood. "I don't think I've seen you around before."

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear shyly, you shook your head. "No, I don't. I was just stopping in for a coffee on my way to work."

"I see." His gem-green eyes slowly traced over your features, as if admiring a fine work of art. The intensity of his gaze sent a tendril of heated awareness washing through you.

Before you could think better of it, you blurted out the first thing on your mind. "Would you...maybe want to get coffee? With me, I mean? Right now?"

Harry's full lips curved in an amused smile. "I'd love that, actually."

You could scarcely believe this was reality as you led him back inside the cafe, trying not to visibly swoon at the casual brush of his fingertips against the small of your back. For the next hour you talked and laughed more freely than you had in ages, feeling utterly intoxicated by Harry's mere presence. Everything about him radiated authenticity and vulnerability, a creative wildness simmering beneath his polished exterior. You felt like you could be yourself with him instead of carefully cultivating persona upon persona as you did with most people.

By the time you forced yourself to reluctantly leave for work, exchanging numbers with Harry, you were positively giddy. Dancing through your day in a euphoric bubble, you hardly noticed the pitying looks from coworkers.

"You know he's just gonna ghost you, right?" Julie the receptionist said flatly when you told her about your morning coffee date. "Have you seen how many girls fall all over themselves trying to get Harry Styles' attention? You're out of your league, sweetie."

You frowned at her harsh dose of reality. As if you weren't well aware of your lack of impressiveness compared to supermodels and actresses in Harry's orbit. Still, you couldn't shake the magnetic connection you'd felt with him, the bone-deep certainty that he was someone truly special. 

Much to everyone's shock, Harry didn't ghost you. In fact, a simple text from him that evening asking how your day was led to a rapid-fire exchange of messages stretching long into the night. Over the next few weeks, your life revolved around hushed phone calls, secret rendezvous at out-of-the-way cafes and restaurants, and marathon conversations revealing every layer of one another.

Harry was purely intoxicating - a whirlwind of brooding intensity balanced with vivid spontaneity and an excellent sense of humor. He seemed utterly fascinated by every small detail you revealed about your life, respectful in a way that made him feel like a wonderful dream. And you fell harder and harder for Harry with each passing day. Something about his quiet attentiveness and insatiable curiosity about you made you feel cherished in a way you'd never experienced before. Gone were the shallow, vapid interactions you were accustomed to in the dating world. With Harry, you could truly be yourself - he somehow coaxed out your authentic self that you typically kept heavily guarded. 

At the same time, you were in absolute awe of the whirlwind of depth and experiences that defined Harry's life. His stories of touring the globe, writing deeply personal lyrics, collaborating with musical icons - they all painted a vivid portrait of an artistic soul soaring to brilliant creative heights. You drank in every glimpse into his inner world like a lifeline to another realm of existence.

Yet whenever you'd express feeling unworthy of his profound love and admiration, Harry was quick to sweetly rebuff you.

"Y/N, you dazzle me more than anything I've experienced in this mad career of mine," he insisted one evening over a cozy home-cooked meal you'd prepared. Catching your hand across the table, his green gaze pinned you in place. "Don't you see? Your warmth, your light, your way of finding detailed beauty in such seemingly ordinary moments - that's what enchants me. You make me want to shed all the superficial trappings of fame and just...be."

You felt yourself falling deeper and deeper, tumbling into an intimacy more profound than you'd ever imagined. If Harry hadn't told you himself that he'd only had a few relatively tame celebrity girlfriends in the past, you'd never have believed his immense experience from the way he worshiped you.

"So responsive, so gorgeous," he rasped against your swollen lips, calloused fingers stroking delirious patterns over your sensitized skin. "God, I could spend eternity between your legs”

Those stolen passionate encounters, tangled up and gasping one another's names with wild abandon, only added to your lovestruck infatuation. You felt deeply seen and cherished on a soul level, like you were both puzzle pieces finally slotting seamlessly together.

In the dreamy, lust-addled haze of new love, you almost didn't notice the growing tension in Harry's manner as typical relationship pressures began encroaching. Paparazzi grew increasingly aggressive in tracking his day-to-day movements whenever out in public. Well-meaning friends expressed concerns about the obvious strain he was under from lack of a romantic life in the public eye. And perhaps most troubling, his management team forcefully "suggested" it was time for him to embark on a high-profile PR romance to capitalize on album promotion and touring.

Harry had looked utterly fed up that evening when he broke the news, pacing in your living room.

You watched him apprehensively. "They want you to do...what? You mean...go along with a staged relationship? Like have a beard or something?"

"No! Absolutely not, I won't do it. I won't treat you like some secret, and I refuse to fake anything in my private life for publicity."

"Harry..." you tried to soothe him, rising to your feet and rubbing his tense shoulders. "I understand the pressures you're under-"

"No, you don't!" He rounded on you with surprising intensity. "You don't get it, Y/N. You are the best, most precious thing in my world - my safe harbor from all the bullshit fake expectations. I won't sully what we have with PR lies. I just...won't."

His words were at once incredibly romantic and terribly naive. As much as you longed to stay cocooned in the warm, intimate bubble of your relationship, you knew the real world would inevitably intrude. Harry was a public figure on a massive scale, his romantic life constantly scrutinized. For the sake of his livelihood, he might not have any choice but to bend to the publicity machine's demands.

***

Those first seeds of conflict only blossomed further over the following weeks as the PR relationship issue remained unresolved. You did your best to stay supportive and understanding, but it was a challenge keeping your own hurt and insecurities at bay.

"I just don't see what the big deal is," Harry groused one evening over a tense dinner. "So what if they want me to go out a few times with some model or actress, let the paps get pictures? It doesn't mean anything to me."

You poked at your food sullenly. "It's not that simple though, is it? Couldn't something like that, even if fake, seriously complicate things for us?"

He reached across to squeeze your hand. "Baby, you know you're the only person who matters to me. A little PR sham doesn't change how utterly mad I am about you."

But it did change things, whether Harry wanted to admit it or not. The striking difference in how he treated you, his real partner behind closed doors, compared to how he'd have to pretend with someone else for public consumption - it stung deep.

One night shortly after, you were cuddled up watching a movie when Harry's phone started incessantly buzzing. Pulling it out with a furrow in his brow, he quickly scanned a series of messages and emailed photos. An unmistakable look of chagrin crossed his face.

"What is it?" You asked, unable to ignore the sinking feeling in your gut.

Harry sighed, shoulders slumping. "Looks like the publicity team is really pushing ahead. They've, uh, they've arranged for me to be caught having dinner with Kendall Jenner tomorrow night."

Your heart plummeted as an uneasy feeling settled over you. This was really happening - right before your eyes, your private intimacy was being infiltrated with PR lies.

"So you're...going to be going out with her? In public, on a fake date, while the whole world watches?" You tried and failed to keep the hurt out of your voice.

"Not a date!" Harry was quick to insist, shifting closer to pull you into his arms. "Y/N, you have to understand this doesn't mean anything. It's all just smoke and mirrors, love. You're my world, I promise."

You wanted so desperately to believe him. But the lingering ache still took root somewhere deep inside as you watched the paparazzi frenzy ignite over Harry's "outing" with Kendall. Photos of the two models laughing intimately over drinks and dinner plastered every gossip rag and website for weeks. 

It soon became a narrative that followed Harry everywhere - probing reporters shouting questions about whether he and Kendall were officially an item now. Rabid fans prying him online, trying to get every new shred of detail on the new, perfect couple.

"Hey, come here," Harry murmured soothingly whenever he saw the sadness and uncertainty cloud your eyes. He'd pull you into his chest, peppering kisses over your face. "I'm yours, baby, only yours. None of that bloody circus matters to me, I hope you know that."

You wanted to have his quiet confidence, truly. The way Harry could compartmentalize the fake PR relationship and his very real feelings for you with such clear separation. But it didn't stop the anxiety slowly gnawing away at your trust and security.

Increasingly, special romantic gestures from Harry felt like overcompensation for all the public affection he was faking with Kendall. When he'd surprise you with extravagant getaways to exotic locales, you couldn't fully relax into the pampering without wondering how much of it was just hiding guilt. And his constant reaffirmations of his love and devotion started ringing hollow amidst the growing circus his life was becoming.

The worst of it came at one of his first concerts after the publicity whirlwind began. You'd been so looking forward to experiencing the screaming crowds in a whole new light as Harry's actual partner, not just a casual fan. But the huge video screens kept flashing candid photos and fake couple shots of Harry holding hands and hugging Kendall, selling their phony romance to the fans.

You couldn't hold back the tears slipping down your cheeks as Harry serenaded the arena full of thousands, having no choice but to play along with the charade on the world stage. He caught your eye for just a second during the encore, and his smile instantly morphed into a look of sheer sorrow and guilt, looking at your tear-ridden face. He knew you, even if he stood so much away from you.  But there was nothing he could do then except push forward with the manufactured story.

That night after the concert, an emotional Harry fell into your arms the moment you were alone in his dressing room. He clung to you desperately, peppering apologies across your tear-stained and defeated face.

"God, Y/N, I'm so sorry," he rasped, emerald eyes awash with remorse and frustration. "Seeing you hurting like that because of this bloody sham...it killed me. You have to know how madly in love I am with only you."

You nodded, finding it hard to speak past the lump in your throat. Of course you knew, deep down, that Harry loved you wholly. His attentiveness, the intense spark of intimacy and passion between you, the emotional connection - it was all achingly real. This PR relationship was merely a toxic byproduct of his celebrity, something massively unfortunate but not defining your actual bond.

And yet...Harry couldn't deny the growing chaos enveloping his personal life. The fake romance was now Priority One to his team, staged and milked for every ounce of publicity. Constant video calls and strategy sessions mapped out each calculated move - where Harry and Kendall would stage a coffee run for the paps, when they should be papped holding hands emerging from a nightclub, how often they should update their couple-y Instagram shots together.

Harry grew increasingly sullen and withdrawn the more deeply engrossed he became in maintaining the facade. And you couldn't ignore the mounting jealousy and hurt rapidly corroding, chipping away your self-esteem and faith in the relationship.

***

"Maybe...maybe we should take a break," you finally broached one afternoon after an especially grueling set of publicity demands. Harry's head whipped up from where he was moodily going over plans for an upcoming awards show appearance.

"What? Why would you say that?" There was an edge of panic in his tone. He looked shocked, but you knew it was a long time coming.

You shrugged. "Harry, can you honestly tell me you don't resent me at all for the toll this whole – charade has taken? That some part of you doesn't wish you could just live your life freely without me holding you back from giving publicity stunts like this your full effort?"

He immediately rushed to gather you into his arms. "No! Never, Y/N. You're my world, my everything. Without you, all this would mean nothing!”

Burying your face into the strength of his shoulder, you wished you could cling to his words and find comfort there once more. But the turmoil swirling around you was rapidly becoming too overpowering.

"I'm just...I'm so tired of feeling like an afterthought, Harry. Of being the dirty little secret you have to hide away while flaunting someone else to the world. I can't keep living like this, sinking into doubt and jealousy constantly."

Harry's arms tightened around you convulsively. "Don't say that, my love. You could never be an afterthought to me. I need you here, by my side, to keep me grounded and remind me of what's truly real."

Though his words warmed your heart, you found yourself pulling back to gaze at him searchingly. "Then prove it. Enough with the grand romantic gestures, the desperate promises. I need you to actually fight for me, for us, instead of just going along with everything. Either that, or–” the lump in your throat deepend, “ –you can let me go”

Harry was taken aback by your words. But still, there was a part of him that didn;t fully understand what you were going through.  "You know it's not that simple, Y/N. One wrong move that tanks this publicity team's plans and my entire career could crater."

"So what?" you challenged, tilting your chin defiantly. Harry wasn't the only one being forced to make impossible choices. "Is the career really more important than your actual life, your happiness in a real relationship? Because I love you with everything, but I can't keep sacrificing my sense of self-worth and spinning out into reckless jealousy every waking moment just so you can have the best of both worlds."

"I...you have to understand, none of this publicity shite actually matters to me. Not really. It's all a smokescreen that will fade away eventually. But you, us - this love is my truth, my be all and end all. Don't give up on me, baby. I'll fix this, I swear it."

You wanted so badly to believe the desperation in Harry's voice. But the ache of sadness and insecurity had burrowed too deeply. What once would have swept you up in romantic adulation now just hollowed you out further.

"I really hope you can, Harry," you rasped, pulling away with immense reluctance. "Because I can't keep holding my breath waiting for the other shoe to drop much longer. This half-life just isn't enough anymore.I can't, Harry.I can't keep living like this."

Harry looked hurt now. He knew it was only a while before it all came shattering down, but the thought of Y/N walking away felt like a shard of glass lodged in his heart. 

"From this moment on, things change," he rasped. "No more bowing to bloody publicists and image managers. My truth, our bond, comes before anything else. You're about to become my permanent bloody shadow, love."

A smile curved your lips at his words. Reaching up to trace the sharp edge of his chiseled jaw, you felt a wave of relief and renewed hope. "Well, I do make a devilishly charming shadow, if I say so myself."

Harry's gaze drank you in like a man rewarded with an infinite oasis after years of directionless wandering. "That you do, baby. No more hiding that radiant light of yours, yeah? "

He sealed the vow with a kiss that seared straight through to your bones. You clung to him, every brush of his hands and velvet tongue rekindling the deepest intimacy between you two. 

When you finally pulled apart, chasing oxygen, Harry made an immediate move to sweep you up into his arms like a blushing bride. "Come on, love. Let's go remind the world of who they're dealing with, shall we?"

You looped your arms around his neck with a giddy laugh as he strode through the penthouse with you cradled protectively to his chest. Despite his determination, his hold was soft, cherishing. Like you were something infinitely precious to be handled with utmost care, or you would break.

Without explanation, Harry marched you both out and down to where a sleek black car was out front, the doorman quickly ushering you inside the backseat. Once the privacy partition rolled up, Harry immediately turned to you.

"I mean it, every word," he stated plainly. "No more deceptions or hiding our connection. From here it's full transparency and only the truth."

you felt overcome by tenderness and awe. "So...does that mean an end to the fake relationship with Kendall then?"

"Among other things," Harry confirmed without hesitation. To your surprise, he reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone and thumbed it open to the camera app, situating you both in the frame. "We're going to document and share every moment of us, the real us. Let my supporters and fans see who truly holds my heart before all others."

You blinked in astonishment as he looped an arm around your waist, pulling your bodies flush as the camera captured. Was this really happening? After all your heartbreak and insecurity brought on by that disastrous PR relationship, was Harry truly throwing it all to the wind?

That was clearly his intention as he leaned in to nuzzle your cheek dotingly, snapping pic after sweet pic of shameless embraces and intimate caresses being exchanged between you. Each time the shutter clicked he murmured loving adorations, his focus immovable.

"Gorgeous girl...my forever woman...heart and soul of my entire world..."

You blinked back tears. When was the last time you'd felt this elevated by Harry's worshiping? Your shaky exhales intermingled hotly as he maneuvered you fully into his lap, slanting his mouth hungrily across yours.

"My everything," he growled against your lips before kissing you breathless.

"Harry..." you finally managed to gasp out as you pulled apart, "what are you doing? If you post those shots, then-"

"Then the whole world will know I'm mad for you, and only you," he said, with nothing but seriousness and devotion in his voice,  "No more closeting my actual partner away like a mistress to be hidden from disapproving eyes. You're the only romantic relationship fully grounded in truth that the world needs to be focused on."

You shivered at the assurance in his tone. This was really it - the definitive line in the sand. And with Harry looking at you the way he was, you couldn't find it in yourself to argue or question further. You simply melted into his heat, losing yourself in the incredible feeling of being staked as his claim.

With a few taps, Harry posted the first of intimate photos and captions that set the internet instantly ablaze. Breathy confessions of forever love intermingled with searing makeout shots - it was a rush of letting go of months of pent-up passion and adoration for the world to finally bear witness.

All the while, Harry refused to tear his stare from worshiping every inch of your body. His broad palms trailing over the exposed curves of your hips, waist, the swell of your breasts - anchoring you fully into the present.

Your social media was immediately swamped by a plethora of comments, tags and speculation over the tsunami wave of intimate reveals. Harry's fanbase seemed to have divided between celebration and outrage over their beloved idol being so thoroughly claimed by an average nobody. 

More jarring, however, was the media/PR teams' explosive reactions. Both your phones blew up with frantic calls and enraged messages demanding explanations and emergency meetings. As expected, the team working to orchestrate Harry's fake relationship with Kendall were melting down over the sheer negligence of you both, and damage control now being initiated.

For a long while, you both simply ignored it, too immersed in devouring the rebirth of your connection to spare any attention elsewhere. You reveled in being subjected to Harry's fervent, undivided worshipping as his fingertips and lips swept across every velvet hollow and slope. His sensual assault was purposefully overwhelming, etching his permanent claim over your quivering form.

"They'll keep the noise up for a while, try spreading all sorts of misinformation and manipulation to regain control of the narrative," Harry finally mumbled without breaking the rhythm of stripping you bare and lavishing undivided attention over each exposed new expanse of satin flesh.

You shivered beneath him, and he tilted your chin up with a knuckle to capture your gaze, "But none of that shite matters now, okay? All that matters is that I’m all yours now. Only yours.:

And you were never letting him go.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

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[nicromancytarot]

BEHIND THE CURTAINS OF KNOWING YOUR FUTURE SPOUSE

No one asked for this, but I wanted to see if anyone else has these issues and if so I wanted to let you know that you’re not alone! So hello and welcome to my beautiful literature podcast on things I’ve experienced since knowing who my future spouse is!

For a little context, my future spouse (based on right now and if things go to plan lmao) is an influencer, but they won’t be an influencer by the time we meet, I’ve known about this connection between us for a year now.

I don’t hate the fact that they’re going to be out of influencing by the time we are together, however I don’t like that they’re gonna leave me for hours a day, like what do you mean you have to actually go out and go to work while I’m sad and alone at home?

I personally feel as though it’s one of the most isolating experiences, I feel like I need to be loyal to them although they’re probably not being loyal to me. I feel weird thinking about other people, and I’ve rejected an amount of love offers since, I was in a situationship recently that I ended since I knew that me and this dude would only date to date, and not date to marry. I don’t think I ever want to subject someone to dating me while I know that I’m going to end up with someone else, like I can give times, names, dates, it’s insane. My friends don’t understand it as they think it’s stupid to devote myself to someone who I may not even end up with based on timing (I will, or I’ll die) however I feel I know that I want to end up with this person, so why would I want to ruin that?

Dating and marrying this person links heavily into my career decisions, I’m working on going into the music industry, it’s so stagnant as I don’t know where to go after writing music, like how do I produce this shit??? So if we don’t end up together, it means I haven’t made it in the industry as I hoped I would.

Even when they do stupid stuff online that I don’t agree with, I feel like I need to be there to support them, like they’ve been semi cancelled a few times in the last 2 years and I’ve stepped back, moved onto something else but then been like “oh damn, my monkeys, my circus 😔” WHICH IS SO???? It’s certainly frustrating, that’s the best way to explain it.

Luckily for me, this bro is lonely, ain’t got no one to share a bed with, waiting for me fr fr lmaooo. But I hate seeing people say stuff about them like “I ship them with X” or saying something inherently out of pocket about them, although I’ll never voice it, it makes me feel so territorial, and I don’t even have the right to do that right now!!

Again back with the influencing stuff, they have a persona, I feel worried because what if I’m only into the person they perform as for their audience, and not their authentic self? And what if they end up feeling the same?? I mean Im assuming not since we’re gonna get married, but still brotherrrr.

Watching their downfall sucks, I feel privileged to be able to check up on this person every now and then since they’re public, but based on our connection and the next 2 years, their career is only taking a downwards turn until they change their profession, and then by then they might hop offline forever and I’ll die until we meet! (I’m very dramatic)

Constantly doubting myself and looking for more confirmation, someone could slap it into my face and I’d still question the authenticity until we are married with 5 kids, 3 cats and a dog (I don’t want 5 kids actually, that was a lie)

I like watching edits of them on TikTok, that’s a pro.

Thank you for entertaining my 3am thoughts!!

#tarot #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #divination #spirituality #future spouse #tarot witch #future #spiritual awakening

[unknowinglydeceasedlol]

it’s always “how do you think they’ll feel when something happens to you?” but never “how do you feel about having to be pushed to this point?”

#lol like i don’t wanna feel like this constantly but I’m just so tired and frustrated constantly #i hate feeling like nothing i do will ever be worth it #I hate feeling so alone constantly and actually being alone most of the time #i hate trying to put myself out there but always falling flat bc i struggle in social situations #I hate always having to put everyone’s feelings and emotions first when no one’s ever put mine first #i wish i had my person but i always fuck it up and lose them #actually bpd #bpd safe #cluster b safe #cluster b #bpd vent #vent #vent post #mentally fucked #mentally exhausted #actually mentally ill #mentally unstable #bpd feels #tw sui ideation #actually borderline #bpd blog #borderline personality disorder #bpd #bpd life #bpd problems #bpd tag #borderline pd #bpd thoughts #bpd mood #bpd stuff

[wild-at-mind]

I get why people like the whole queer existence is resistance thing. I don't personally, because I think it puts a tonne of intracommunity pressure to exist in the 'right' way, I.e. the way that is 'radical' to the person currently scrutinising you. As a person with OCD that manifests in self scrutiny that I have to constantly concentrate on to avoid it becoming self hatred, I'm never going to be a fan of that. I kind of feel this way about any kind of assimilation conversation with regards to queerness really. I think it's an important conversation within irl communities who already care for each other- who shows up for others outside of their own interests and who doesn't, etc. But the internet makes things so impersonal and cold. It encourages people to make very serious snap judgements about others who they don't even know, and to encourage others to believe that about them. None of these people are in community together in any meaningful sense, or they wouldn't treat each other so ungenerously.

Anyway I had a bit of a realisation earlier- I think we have to tell ourselves our existence is inherently radical all the time because we're always getting the subtle message from our community and the wider activism community that having a good time or enjoying yourself is somehow bad, or insulting to people in dire straits. But instead of challenging that idea we say no it's OK because I'm doing activism simply by being here. I think it's fine to feel that way and in many ways existing as a marginalised person really is radical. I just want to make sure we aren't internalising the idea that we can't ever be happy or having a fun frivolous time without justifying it, and passing that idea along to others without meaning to.

#as radio 1 used to say: you only get one life- love it #i try and tell myself that when i get bogged down in the 'my misery is activism somehow' thinking #that so many people on here reinforce #i feel the 'pride is a protest' conversation constantly turns into this #because while pride's origin is in protest on the anniversary of the stonewall riot #most prides now are parties with a march and some information stalls #and...that's fine! If people have fun at it! #not everyone finds pride fun obvs its usually boiling very overwhelming and loud #ive had some shit times at pride but had a blast at my last one #it was post coming out as trans and I'd just started drinking more regularly #after abstaining for my meds for so long #i went alone had some drinks and a dance and went home #loved it best day ever #anyway the idea that in order to do activism you have to constantly disrupt #bring your 'queer liberation not rainbow capitalism' sign #i dunno...i dont think anyone really likes rainbow capitalism but the sponsers keep entry free #thats the case at my main one anyway #i struggle because i only just started having fun a bit more and enjoying things #i hate being hit with the message of 'actually this fun time is wrong ' #even in the most subtle ways- but maybe im oversensitive #i will say that if misery is activism ive more than paid my dues #why do they think people wanted to get into stonewall inn anyway??? #eta- i know not all prides are free and the ones that aren't still have corporate sponsors #i just don't feel it ruins pride personally #it's mildly annoying and that's all #eta: i put activism instead of capitalism in the slogan in the tags for some reason

[sunniques]

— 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 ?

➺ PAIRING: lee heeseung x female reader

➺ GENRE: stepbrother au, smut

➺ SUMMARY: the story of how your stepbrother’s girlfriend realizes her boyfriend has never really been hers.

➺ CW/TW: stepcest, infidelity, possessiveness, heeseung can lift reader, cucking kink, voyeurism, masturbation (f), oral sex (f), fingering, face sitting, unprotected sex, creampies

➺ WC: 4.6k

NOTE: don’t like, don’t read.

A lot of people find your relationship with your stepbrother cute. How could they not? He’s always so doting and protective like a real brother would be. In spite of being only slightly older, Heeseung takes on a very important role in your life. He constantly goes out of his way to take care of you, making sure you have anything you could possibly need.

Heeseung’s girlfriend never thought too much about the relationship between you two. It was natural that he took the naive college freshman under his wing and constantly had you by his side. Mina found it endearing, actually. The way he worried about you like a mother hen who wasn’t ready for her young chick to go into the world alone is adorable and a good sign. After dating so many inconsiderate losers, she thinks she’s finally chosen the right guy.

But somewhere along the way, Mina starts to grow tired of it. Time has gone by, and you’re no longer a naive freshman who can’t get around without her boyfriend’s help. Of course family is important, but it’s not like you’re entirely helpless. And yet, that’s exactly the way Heeseung acts. He’s always ready to drop everything when you need him. On several humiliating occasions, he’s even left her half naked on his bed just to go to you because you bought something you couldn’t figure out how to put together, or because you wanted to hang out with him.

It’s hard for Mina to admit that she’s a little jealous. Especially because it all seems so ridiculous. There’s no way her boyfriend actually wants you like that. But as time goes on, she thinks that maybe she’s not all that crazy. Especially with the affectionate way her boyfriend looks at you. Despite all this, Mina doesn’t say anything. At least, not until Heeseung starts to bring you along to what were meant to be dates.

“Babe, why do you keep bringing your stepsister? i thought we were going on a date?” It’s hard for her to not sound bitter and annoyed.

“Her roommate is going to visit her parents, and I don’t want Y/N to be alone.” His tone is kind and gentle like always, but it’s also firm and leaves no room for arguments.

What’s worse is that Mina can’t bring herself to hate or blame you. In a way, she understands why her boyfriend is always so concerned about you. You’re so nice and trusting that it would be way too easy for someone to take advantage of that. There’s also the fact that you’ve been more than willing to let them have some alone time, but Heeseung never lets you leave.

It’s all so strange and frustrating that Mina feels like she has to take matters into her own hands. So she does.

The key to Heeseung letting you go is getting you a boyfriend—or at least getting you to start dating. It’s easy enough to find a guy who’s interested in you. That’s never been a problem for you, and all it takes is her showing your picture to the cute guy in her communications class for her plan to fall into place. As luck would have it, you’re also into meeting the guy and going out with him.

Little did Mina know, setting you up with him would be a mistake that would cost her everything.

On the night you’re meant to meet up with her classmate, Mina excitedly goes to her boyfriend’s apartment. It’s been a long time since she got to be alone with Heeseung, and she was going to make the most of it.

She’s dressed in tiny tank top and a cute little skirt that Heeseung loves—it barely hides the lingerie she’s wearing underneath. Mina quietly lets herself into her boyfriend’s apartment using her spare key. Quietly, she tiptoes to his room only to find the door wide open. What she doesn’t expect is to find you sitting on his the edge of bed while Heeseung kneels in front of you.

Mina feels like a bucket of cold water has been dumped on her as his pretty hands rub your soft thighs. You look incredible, clad in a cute little dress with your makeup and hair done to perfection. It’s a mistake for Mina to keep watching, but she can’t find her voice at the moment.

“Seungie, what’s wrong?”

God, Mina hates that you call him that. Mostly because she can tell how much Heeseung likes it.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going out to meet some guy?” Heeseung sounds almost venomous, but it’s like you don’t hear it. “Who is he? How’d you meet him?”

You tilt your head, pretty lips pulled down in a confused frown. “Didn’t Mina tell you? She set me up with a guy from her class. He’s really cute!”

A chill goes down Mina’s spine. She can see Heeseung’s back tense when you tell him how your date came to be. The air feels almost murderous as he gently squeezes your thighs.

It kills Heeseung that he was almost too late in stopping you from meeting some strange guy in the pretty little dress you have on. He softly rubs your thighs, eyes simmering with anger and desire he doesn’t care to hide. Not anymore.

“Oh, angel.” Your stepbrother murmurs, hands slowly trailing up to your thighs. “You know you’re my favorite girl, right?”

An unsuspecting smile graces your lips. “Yeah. And you’re my favorite guy.”

Heeseung hums in satisfaction as his fingers ghost the edges of your dress. He watches your eyebrows furrow, but you don’t say anything. As always, you have blind trust in your stepbrother. That’s all the indication he needs to get up and push you down on his bed. Heeseung hovers over you, loving how you’re staring up at him with sparkling, wide eyes. He swoops down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

Your heart is racing in your chest as Heeseung forces his tongue into your mouth. Despite the initial shock, you quickly melt into the kiss. He swallows your moans, pulling you closer as he deepens the messy kiss. You mewl into his mouth, carding your fingers through his hair with desire you had never realized you had for him.

Meanwhile, Mina can only watch as her boyfriend kisses you with a passion that he clearly never felt for her. It feels like her heart is ripping in half as Heeseung begins to undress you. Tears well up in her eyes when he groans at the sight of the lingerie adorning your body. Mina can see how hard he is from where she’s standing, and the desire in his eyes is very different from the way he looks at her.

“Can’t believe you got all pretty for some other boy.” Heeseung spits as he starts to undress. “Were planning on letting him fuck you?”

You shake your head and go to speak, but you can’t when Heeseung roughly pulls off your lingerie then his own underwear. His cock is thick and big, possibly the biggest you’ve ever seen. It’s twitching and leaking as he looks at you with his dark eyes.

“W-We shouldn’t be doing this.” You whine as Heeseung shoves your thighs to your stomach and licks a broad stripe up your wet pussy.

Your stepbrother groans at your sweet taste, thrusting his tongue into your dripping hole. He laps up the juices leaking out of your slit, circling his tongue on your clit for good measure. The noise you let out is downright pornographic and pure music to Heeseung’s ears.

“Seungie!” You keen as you spread your legs and tangle your hands in his messy hair. “I– Fuck!”

Heeseung pulls back with a wet slurp to spread your cunt open with his big hands. “God. You have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, angel. Just had to taste it.”

Each one of his words is like a dagger to Mina’s heart and confidence. Wet tears trickle down her face, but she doesn’t say anything as you pull on her boyfriend’s hair. Heeseung only moans and dives back into your slick cunt. He greedily laps up everything that drips out of you, sucking and kissing your clit.

“We shouldn’t be doing this, Hee.” You repeat through a needy mewl, making no attempt to stop him. In fact, you buck your pussy into his mouth as he sucks on your sensitive bud.

“Shh, angel.” Heeseung shushes as he flicks his tongue across your swollen bud. “Just relax and let me eat you out. Been wanting to do this for so long.”

Mina swallows thickly, the hurt slowly being replaced by something else. Her eyes grow bigger when she realizes which feeling is taking over. She shifts slightly, feeling a familiar wetness begin to pool in her panties. Mina feels sick that the sight of her boyfriend cheating on her can turn her on, and she thinks that she should leave right now and never return.

But she stays.

Mina licks her lips and continues to watch. Even she can’t help but think how hot you look, whimpering and writhing as Heeseung pushes your thighs apart so he can bury his face deeper in your pussy. He flicks his tongue, slowly descending until he’s lapping at your hole, slowly fucking the wet muscle in and out. Your eyes roll back as your stepbrother eats your pussy like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.

The sounds coming from your pussy and the way Heeseung messily eats you out has Mina’s own cunt clenching with need. She can feel her underwear start to stick to her cunt as she watches her boyfriend lap up your arousal like a starved man. Mina bites her lip, feeling sick and twisted for being turned on by your pretty moans.

Heeseung suddenly pulls away, but not before he slaps your thigh playfully. He goes to lay on his back all while wearing a filthy smirk. “Sit on my face.”

You bite your lip as a hot flash of arousal pulses through your body. Both your and Mina’s cunts throb at the suggestion. Heeseung sees your hesitation, but doesn’t back down.

“C’mon, baby. Be a good little stepsister and ride my fucking face.” He growls out with dark eyes.

With your pussy dripping, you crawl over to him and kneel over his face. Mina watches with heated eyes as you slowly lower your cunt on her boyfriend’s face. The heat in her stomach grows when she hears Heeseung groan in satisfaction.

“That’s it. I want your pretty pussy suffocating me.”

With that, your stepbrother grabs your hips and pulls your cunt down onto his face with a groan. Mewling quietly, you rub your cunt all over his mouth. Every time he moans or grunts, it sends little vibrations through your pussy. The delicious feeling has you grinding down on his tongue as you chase that feeling. Heeseung eagerly fucks his wet muscle into your hot cunt, already addicted to your sweet taste.

Mina swallows thickly when he sees Heeseung thrusting into the air as he eats you out. His cock is leaking and throbbing with need. Fuck. How she’d like to go and lick all that up, to have him fuck her mouth as he fucks you with his tongue. Mina rubs her thighs to soothe the growing ache in her pussy as she watches you ride Heeseung’s face.

Your eyes roll back when your stepbrother slaps your ass. A loud squeal spills from your lips as Heeseung keeps fucking his tongue up into your cunt. He grabs your ass and kneads it roughly. With one last groan and flick of his tongue, he sits up and takes you with him. The effortless display of strength turns both women on, one containing her moan while the other cries out as she’s pressed back into the mattress.

“Such a sweet little cunt.” Heeseung moans as he buries his face back into your dripping cunt. “Shit, Y/N. You’re fucking soaked down here.”

“Heeseung!” You cry out as he pries your thighs further apart. Your stepbrother shakes his head to grind his tongue against your sensitive cunt.

“Fuck, you have the hottest little pussy.” Heeseung lifts his head with a groan, lips shiny with your arousal. “Missed eating some good pussy. It’s been so long.”

Mina feels pathetic that her cunt throbs at his degrading words. She bites her lip, hands trailing up her thigh and to her soaked underwear. It’s so filthy and humiliating, but the ache in her pussy is getting to be too much. She slowly rubs circles on her covered cunt as she keeps watching her boyfriend cheat on her.

“Fuck, Seungie.” You mewl desperately. “S-Shouldn’t like having your face buried in my cunt.”

Heeseung smirks into your wetness. He gently circles his tongue on your clit, kissing it tenderly before he gently starts to nip at it with his teeth. Mina shoves her panties aside when you moan out in pleasure. Now she’s furiously rubbing at her bare pussy, wanting to see you cum on her boyfriend’s face.

“But you do, baby. You like me fucking you with my tongue, and I fucking love eating this sweet little pussy.”

Your hips buck up at the words, grinding your cunt against his mouth as you moan for him. Juices drip out of you lewdly, leaking down to your ass and onto Heeseung’s sheets. Your head is swimming with pleasure, and you have to remember that this is all so very wrong.

“You like that?” Heeseung teases you, loving how you’ve turned into putty in his hands. “Answer me, Y/N. Do you like your stepbrother telling you how much he loves tasting your juicy cunt?”

Your back arches when Heeseung sucks your puffy bud into his mouth. “God—yes! Feels so fucking good, Hee! Love having your mouth on my pussy.”

Heeseung growls, the vibrations making your cunt throb as he sucks and licks your swollen clit. Eager to have you cum on his tongue, he slips two fingers into your fluttering hole. Mina follows in suit, unable to take her eyes off the erotic sight of you getting ate out and fingered. Fuck. This was better than any porn she had ever watched. Her hand is dripping with her own arousal, and she can’t even feel disgusted anymore that she’s so turned on by the entire situation.

“Mmmh, shit, Hee.” You whine as the tips of his fingers brush against the gummy spot inside you. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

“Do it, baby. Cream all over my tongue.” He purrs in delight. “Be a good girl and cum for me.”

Heeseung flattens his tongue on your clit while his fingers grind into the spongy spot in your cunt. Your back arches off the bed, orgasm whiting out your thoughts as you cum around his long fingers.

Mina has to cover her mouth as Heeseung moans along with you. By now she’s shoved her fingers into her sopping pussy, the squelching sound is drowned out from the sounds coming from your own pussy. The filthy sight is driving her wild, and she’s so delirious with arousal that she wishes Heeseung would just fuck you already.

“You’re amazing, angel.” Your stepbrother praises with his fingers still buried knuckle deep in your pussy as he softly strokes your velvety walls. “So soft and wet. It makes me want to shove my dick into your tight little hole.”

Heeseung slowly pulls his fingers out of you, and you can only watched with a lidded gaze as he moves his body between your thighs. His cock is twitching and leaking as he grabs the base. He smacks his cock down on your slippery pussy, dragging his drooling tip up and down your slit slowly. Mina has to press her hand into her mouth harder to stifle her filthy moans. The sight of her boyfriend pressing his drooling cockhead into your soaking pussy is so hot she might just cum all over her fingers.

“S-Seungie—fuck. We shouldn’t.” You whimper as he leans forward and braces his arms by your head.

You and Mina both know you don’t really mean your words. It’s clear that you want your stepbrother to split you open on his big cock. That becomes obvious when you don’t try to stop him as he shoves his cock into your pussy until he bottoms out completely, balls pressing against your ass. Shuddering with pleasure, you scratch your nails up his arms as you sink into the bed.

“Pretty pussy was meant to take my cock.” Heeseung growls, already drunk on the feeling of your cunt wrapped around his dick. “Fuck. I know it’s wrong, baby, but I just couldn’t help myself. Your hot little cunt was just begging for my dick. Doesn’t it feel all nice and full having your pussy stuffed with your stepbrother’s big cock?"

Mina starts fucking herself harder when you nod desperately. Your hands go to tangle in his hair as you grind your hips up to meet his thrusts. “Yes! Fuck! Love my stepbrother’s cock stretching me open! Feels so fucking good, Hee!”

Mina knows better than anyone how good you must feel. Although, she imagines you feel must better than she ever did because from the way Heeseung’s fucking you, she can tell he’s doing it with much more enthusiasm and passion. Even his moans are more guttural and full of more pleasure than she’d ever heard. They’re deep as he pulls out until just his tip is spearing you open. Then, he pushes forward, thrusting his cock deep into your fluttering walls.

“That’s it. Tell me how good it feels.” Heeseung leans down, lips brushing against yours. “Don’t be shy, angel. Let me know how much you like this cock fucking you.”

You gasp wantonly and pull him down further to press your lips together. He groans and licks into your mouth easily, tongue slipping past your lips as his cock thrusts deep into your hot, wet cunt. Your hips buck up to meet his, loving how his dick rams into your sweet spot over and over until your sight is painted with pretty little stars.

“Fucking love it, Hee.” You moan between sloppy kisses. “God—I love your cock!”

The coil in Mina’s stomach is close to snapping. By now, her juices are dripping down to her wrist. Luckily, the lewd squelching and sound of skin slapping together drown out any noise she’s making. Heeseung is fucking you so hard and good that she can smell the musky scent of sex from where she’s standing. The erotic aroma turns her on even more, pussy clamping down on her fingers in desperate need of release.

“Tight little pussy feels so good.” Heeseung moans out between the quick pecks he’s giving you. “God, I love you, Y/N. So fucking much.”

Your heart races as Mina’s breaks all over again. It hurts, but somehow that just turns her on even more. She keeps fingering herself as tears pool in her eyes.

With a low moan, your pussy clamps down on Heeseung’s dick tightly as you go to eagerly kiss him. A soft I love you, too goes unnoticed by Mina, but not by your stepbrother. He groans into your mouth, cock throbbing inside you.

“Mmmh.” Heeseung hums against your lips before he trails wet kisses down your neck. “I love my gorgeous girl. That’s why this feels so good. Even your tight little pussy knows how much I love you.”

His gorgeous girl? Mina thinks deliriously, orgasm dangerously close. It’s something he never referred to her as.

You cry out loudly when Heeseung bites your neck and sucks the skin into his mouth. His hips rock against yours, balls smacking against your ass as his pelvis grinds down on your swollen clit.

“Seungie!” You whine in ecstasy. “I’m getting close.”

Your stepbrother doesn’t let up. In fact, his thrusts seem to get faster and rougher. His cock pistons in and out of your cunt, creating sloppy wet sounds as you get even wetter. His eyes are dark as he pulls back to look at you, all pretty squirming and trembling on his cock.

“Cum for me, baby. Cover my cock with your sweet cream so I can fill you up.” Heeseung pants. “Cum on my cock, angel.”

His teeth sink into your neck again, and it pushes you over the edge. Your hot cunt throbs as you squeeze down on his cock. Somehow your pussy only gets tighter and tighter as you get fucked through your orgasm. You tighten your legs around his waist until he can barely pull out, rutting his cock in short shallow thrusts as your climax starts to taper off.

“So fucking tight.” Heeseung hisses by your ear. “Shit, baby. Get ready. I’m about to creampie your cute little pussy. Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

With a strangled grunt, he buries his cock to the hilt and shoots his load deep inside your fluttering walls while your pussy softly milks him for every drop of his hot cum. Mina reaches her own climax when she sees her boyfriend cumming inside you. She has to stifle her moans as she trembles and shakes outside the room that’s filled with the smell and sounds of hot sex.

“You’re taking it so well, angel.” Heeseung kisses your jaw tenderly as his fat tip spurts rope after rope of his thick cum into your clenching heat. “Milking my cock like I knew you would.”

He grinds his hips down, cock pulsing as he finishes stuffing you full of his hot, sticky load. Your stepbrother fucks his cum inside a bit more before reluctantly pulling out. Heeseung’s cock throbs as he watches his seed drip from your messy pussy.

He licks his lips, heated gaze never leaving your body. “Let’s do it again.”

You don’t try to protest as your manhandles into a different position. Mina is still coming down from her high when she realizes her boyfriend is still hard and about to fuck you again. She knows she shouldn’t feel excited or aroused by the fact, but she does. Especially when your face is shoved into one of Heeseung’s pillows just before his big cock rails back into your needy pussy.

Heeseung starts fucking you so hard his headboard slams into the wall repeatedly. The harsh sound pairs well with the plop plop plop sound coming from your cunt.

“God, Y/N. You’re so fucking good for me.” Heeseung groans when you clench down on him.

You moan loudly, bouncing yourself back on his cock. “Fu-Fuck, Seungie. This is wrong. We s-shouldn’t be doing this.”

“I know.” Your stepbrother smacks your ass, not sounding the least bit remorseful. “It’s so dirty baby, but I couldn’t help myself. Had to get my dick wet using your pretty little pussy.”

“Mmmh!” You whine out mindlessly, face turned to the side with your ass raised in the air for Heeseung to fuck deeper into your wet hole. “Feels so fucking good!”

“Yeah, it does.” Heeseung’s laugh sounds almost mean as he speeds up his thrusts to fuck his cock harder into your sopping cunt. “Your cute little pussy is the best I’ve ever had.”

His words shouldn’t please you as much as they do, but those lewd words turn you on so much that you can’t stop your cunt from tightening around him as he keeps spearing into you like an animal in heat. They also shouldn’t turn on Heeseung’s girlfriend but that’s exactly what they do. She isn’t angry, only extremely aroused as your ass bounces back on your stepbrother’s pelvis.

“Fuck!” Heeseung groans, fucking his cock right into your g-spot. “You’re so fucking hot, angel.”

You are. So hot that Mina finds herself wishing she could eat Heeseung’s cum out of your pretty cunt. She just knows you taste good, and mixed with her boyfriend she’s sure you must taste even better.

“Seungie, please!” You cry out, dizzy with arousal.

“Shit.” He growls, slipping a hand underneath your hips to rub fast circles on your clit. “Gonna make you cream on my cock again.”

“Heeseung!” You squeal as he picks up his pace, ramming into your squelching pussy as he rubs soft circles into your swollen clit.

Your stepbrother shoves his cock deep into your cunt and grinds, making you squirm and whine as his dick rubs against the spongy spot in your pussy. Your hands twist in the sheets. He flicks and pinches your puffy clit. God, do you look good, and so does Heeseung. Mina is groping one of her tits while the other hand goes to play with her pussy again. Briefly, she thinks she wouldn’t mind having a video of you two fucking so she can watch it over and over again.

“Hee, I’m gonna cum.” You moan against the pillow.

“Do it, baby.” He encourages you, free hand coming down to slap your ass hard. “Cum all over my cock. Want to feel your hot cunt squeeze me.”

It’s not long before your orgasm hits. You’re screaming into your pillow as your cream coats Heeseung’s big cock. Your pussy clamps rhythmically around his dick. Mina can’t see you, but with the way your toes are curling she can tell your eyes are rolling to the back of your head in pure ecstasy.

“Oh, baby. You feel so fucking good.” Heeseung praises you. His hands move to slap your ass again, making you squeal and tighten again. “Fucking work your little pussy on my cock. Fuck. Need to fill you up again.”

“Want you to stuff me full.” You whine back at him, pussy fluttering at the thought of Heeseung’s cum filling your cunt again.

“Yeah?” Your stepbrother laughs, sounding way too delighted. “Want me to creampie your hot little cunt again?”

“Please!” You whine as Heeseung’s fingers slide over your hip to start working soft circles into your clit again. You writhe back on him, feeling yourself get even wetter at the filthy thought of him shooting his hot load inside you.

“Cum inside me, Hee.” You pant, mewling when his fingers rub your clit even faster. “Want it so bad. Want to feel it.”

“Oh, fuck.” Heeseung groans, hips snapping hard against your ass when he feels how tight you’ve gotten. “You ready, baby? Fucking take it. Take your stepbrother’s cum in your needy little cunt.”

You moan loudly when you feel his hot cum filling your pussy, stuffing you so full it drips out around his cock. Heeseung ruts his spent cock into your sloppy pussy as he pinches your clit, watching as your back arches as a fourth orgasm sweeps through you. You lazily fuck your cunt back into him, loving the feeling of his cum dripping out of you and coating your thighs.

Heeseung pulls out of your warm cunt with a low groan. He’s quick to pull you against his chest and lays you down with him. His face is buried in your hair, eyes closed in bliss as you both try to catch your breaths. You feel his smile in your hair as he cuddles you and murmurs sweet praises against your temple.

Through your drooping eyes, you catch sight of Mina. Her eyes widen when you two make eye contact. You can’t hide your smirk when you see that she was masturbating to the sight of Heeseung fucking you raw. Instead of saying anything, you give her a seductive wink. Mina clenches around her fingers because the wink is full of understanding and promises.

It’s clear that Heeseung was never hers, but maybe you wouldn’t mind sharing.

#heeseung smut #lee heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enha smut #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #enha x reader

[silkscream]

once bitten, twice shy

megumi fushiguro x reader

ੈ✩ wc: 3.1k (i cannot write anything under 2k to save my life)

ੈ✩ tags: emotionally constipated megumi, tsundere basically, friends to lovers, a lil angst, not actually unrequited love, pining, alcohol, typical yuuji nobara antics

ੈ✩ a/n: this is not xmas themed despite the title BUT it does end up taking place on satoru's birthday for plot reasons. megumi fushiguro your intimacy issues bewitch me mind body and soul.....

megumi does not know what to do with his feelings.

he’s never been the type to be particularly in touch with them — he didn’t remember his parents enough to blame them for whatever avoidant attachment he’d accustomed himself to. or maybe, that was the exact cause of said attachment style. gojo taking him in when he was a child didn’t help either — the man also refused to be very vulnerable around him, merely acting as a benefactor and a nuisance at best.

and while he was closest to tsumiki, he’d still built up a wall around himself that she couldn’t get through, and she knew it. she couldn’t break through it in his pre-teen years, and certainly not his teenage years when he was taking out his aggression on his classmates. he would ignore her soothing words and resent her kindness. perhaps he’d taken after toji in that way. constantly fending for himself for the sake of survival. always convinced that he was doomed to be alone.

and then there was you.

he’d met you first at jujutsu tech before any of the other students could. after sparring with maki, he’d been dismissed to shoko’s office. he’d opened the door that september day and was immediately met with your wide eyes, your searing cursed energy. gojo had found another stray.

shoko had made him your first experiment and you excelled. his injuries were healed within minutes. if anything, he felt better than he had in months — after battling insomnia and panic attacks, he felt… calm. like his brain was cleansed and that he had nothing to stress about. (until the next time gojo had gotten on his nerves.)

your introduction to his class was nothing extravagant despite gojo’s theatrics. megumi couldn’t help but keep his eyes on you after that — during practice battles, lectures, or lunch. he was always hyperaware of your presence. he blamed it on your cursed energy.

he hates how enthusiastic yuuji is about you, how yuuji tells him about how he manages to get you alone even though you often keep to yourself, and how he thinks you’re so fucking pretty, and that you’d agreed to watch the human earthworm movies with him. (megumi had refused when yuuji asked.)

he stews in that anger quietly because he’d rather die than let anyone know. nobara knows better, of course. she teases him about it and brings up jealousy.

why should megumi ever be jealous of yuuji? the boy was a freak accident in human form, with no inherent technique. who fucking cares that he can make you laugh without any effort?

it doesn’t matter. it doesn’t. because you have no direct effect on megumi and you don’t distract him during school. he doesn’t cling onto the memory of your hands on his skin. he doesn’t wish for the feeling again. of course not.

he tells this to yuuji and nobara, too. there’s one day where nobara goes too far — she teases him about setting up a date, that you rave about him, that he’s definitely your type. megumi doesn’t believe a word of it, especially because you’re probably more comfortable with yuuji. he doesn’t care to date because it would hold him back. he’s too focused on his training, on being the best, because he’s determined to follow in gojo’s shadow even if he won’t admit it. he could be the second strongest. he could be the most reliable.

it comes out in all the wrong ways. he’s more irritable than usual, so he yells at nobara instead of seething in hushed tones. he rants about how he does’t need someone by his side, certainly not you, whose only benefit is to heal superficial injuries and not much else. how your combat skills are poor, how easily you get beat when you spar on the field. how compared to him, you’re weak, so you’re of no use.

unfortunately, you hear him. every thought on his mind that tumbles out of his stupid mouth, his tone spewing wrath. you know that megumi is a moody person, but you’d never think him to be mean.

you pretend you’re just passing by, but from the faces nobara and yuuji are making, megumi already senses your presence. the color drains from his face, cobalt eyes wide.

“i’m — i’m sorry, i didn’t mean —“

“it’s okay, fushiguro,” you say softly. even after that shitshow, you’re still fucking smiling. it puts a sinking feeling in megumi’s stomach.

“ah, i got an extra pack of mochi and thought you guys would like it.”

you hand over a small bag and megumi takes it wordlessly.

“that’s so sweet,” yuuji beams, attempting to deflect. “hey, i was just looking for you. do you happen to have those jujutsu history notes? kugisaki spilled a soda on mine.”

“you knocked it over!” nobara protests.

“you put it on top of my stuff!”

you take your notebook out of your bag and hand it to yuuji graciously, avoiding megumi’s gaze and making up an excuse to see all of them later.

apparently, “later” means a week after. megumi sees you in class, and while he attempts to walk you to the dining hall or invite you to hang out, you bolt out the door before catching anyone’s attention. he has to find out how you are from fucking yuuji, who somehow gets to see you around the dorms every other day.

“i think she just likes to keep to herself, s’all,” yuuji says. he can sense megumi’s anxiety just from being in the same room as him.

“but you see her all the time.”

“she’s been tutoring me a little. and we just like the same movies and stuff.”

yuuji shrugs casually. his nonchalance makes megumi’s blood boil, because of course he’s the one who gets to occupy all of your time. of course you’re probably most comfortable with him. he knows he shouldn’t be seething at the thought of you two together — it isn’t his right. but his jealousy is starting to get the best of him lately.

“are you guys together?” he blurts out.

“no?” yuuji furrows his brows. “if anything, i feel like nobara might be trying to make a move since she’s way nicer to her than she is to us. except i’m pretty sure she and maki have been going out lately.”

“maki?”

“dude, keep up!”

and when yuuji accuses of megumi having a crush again, the same way nobara did all those weeks ago before he made a fucking fool of himself, megumi shuts it down with a grimace and a blush. he’s merely concerned about your wellbeing is what it is. that’s what he’s able to muster up to yuuji, of course, who absolutely isn’t buying it based on his shit-eating grin.

it’s annoying, especially because yuuji can make you feel more comfortable, comfortable enough to hang with the whole trio, and the pink-haired bastard has to meddle like a little troll. bumping the two of you into each other like you’re in middle school. somehow, it worsens everything. not your dynamic, but megumi’s self-consciousness.

he was already so extremely aware of you, but now he’s convinced that some angel above has tied the red string between you both extra tight. megumi looks for you in every crowd, awaits your arrival every day in the classroom and at lunch, and it’s starting to feel pathetic — the lightness in his chest whenever you’re even so much as ten feet away. his heart even beats faster at the anticipation of your text in the group chat, for fuck’s sake.

and then there’s gojo’s birthday party, a surprise orchestrated by the four of you, despite megumi’s reluctance. you’re particularly more radiant than usual. maybe it’s the lighting. maybe it’s the dress you have on.

despite the amount of shots he’s been forced to take in the past hour (three), megumi is still sober enough to feel anxious around you. though, he thinks he might be drunk enough to be lost in your image, fixating on your collarbone and the way your hair falls in your face as you laugh at one of gojo’s stupid jokes. it’s when the two of you lock eyes that megumi feels out of it, because you smile at him. you fucking smile.

if the warmth of the liquor wasn’t currently raising heated blood to his head, he’d deny the sparks that came from the mere sight of your smile, but he was hopeless. you’re mesmerizing. dizzying. he doesn’t know what to do with his face, not when his cheeks are flushing red and his motor skills are slowing down. fuck, maybe he was a lightweight like gojo after all.

he’s clearly out of touch with reality, because the moment fades as soon as it comes. perhaps it wasn’t a moment at all. he watches you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, your mouth moving slowly as you mingle with other classmates. he’s fucking fixated on your mouth — your lipstick tonight is a blush red with a shiny gloss reflecting light. megumi has only dreamed of what your lips would taste like once or twice. no more than that. he swears on it.

there’s brief eye contact between the two of you again for half a second. there’s a coy smile on your face as always before you slip out the back door of the house.

there are so many bottles around the place that no one will notice megumi taking an entire bottle of champagne for himself. he scowls at the taste, of sickeningly sweet pears — courtesy of gojo, probably. his head swims and thinks of you.

his momentary peace is rudely interrupted by the sound of nobara’s voice in his ear, asking for you.

“ijichi’s setting up karaoke!”

“there is no way in hell that i’m—”

“i don’t care what you do, emo, but i need her to do a duet!”

megumi heaves a sigh, making his way to the backyard where he finds you sitting on a tree stump. even with the dim fairy lights, he probably would’ve missed you if not for the cherried end of your cigarette.

“fushiguro-kun,” you nod at him.

“megumi,” he rasps. “just… megumi is fine.”

“oh, i get special privileges now? how come?”

there’s no mirth in your tone. you’re teasing him. he doesn’t answer your question.

(the mere act of you teasing him becomes an intimacy in itself — he had never thought that you would be comfortable enough to talk to him in jest. you’d maintained your distance from him fairly well.)

“didn’t know you smoked.”

“only when i drink,” you shrug. “ieiri-san doesn’t make much of an effort to hide her cigarettes, either. don’t tell on me, though.”

“wouldn’t dream of it.”

he doesn’t know where to look. luckily, you’re not looking at him, so he can settle his gaze on your mouth nursing the cigarette. plump. glossy under the moonlight.

megumi is not used to wanting. he had never asked gojo for anything during his adolescence, and refused any gesture of kindness from anyone. he was convinced since childhood that there was no point in desire because disappointment would be on the other end of it either way.

he’d like to be a monk about it. he could control himself and focus on his studies. never spare you a glance again that isn’t platonic. and then a cool december wind blows past the two of you, and he smells your amber perfume.

and when he turns his head, you’re looking at him, eyes bright.

“so… not enjoying the party?”

“i’m not really one for parties.”

“me neither,” you shrug. “that’s why i like to do my little ritual of escaping.”

“we have that in common.”

you hum, a noncommittal noise. you take another drag of your cigarette, which disintegrates slowly.

“what a pair, the two of us.”

megumi can’t pick up any sarcasm from your voice, though he assumes it. it makes his stomach drop even though the statement is harmless. the two of you. together. it makes endless futures bloom in his mind. maybe it’s the prosecco, but it almost makes him want to vomit. to think that he was even good enough to be beside you in your future.

you curse quietly when you pull your phone out of your jacket pocket to check the time, realizing it’s dead. megumi gives you a once-over. the jacket you’re wearing is all too familiar. like him, you’re not one to wear very many colors. but this jacket is bright red, varsity style, and oversized on you.

“is that itadori’s jacket?” megumi stammers.

“oh, yeah. i didn’t realize how cold it would be tonight.”

“oh.”

“why?” you give him a curious smile.

“nothing,” he coughs. “are… you two…”

you laugh and it’s like a song to him.

“i think he might be my best friend, s’all. why? you jealous?”

he looks at you again, head-on, your eyes still bright. brighter than fluorescents. there’s something in your irises that is meant to provoke him, but he’s dispensed of his usual cautious nature after he takes another gulp from the bottle.

“more than you can imagine,” he huffs.

“sorry?”

“’m not repeating that.”

“what, you’re not saying you’re like, into me, are you?” you exasperate.

megumi remains silent, cheeks flushed. he thinks that if his head could heat up any more, he’d end up with a migraine.

you breathe the tiniest gasp. if it wasn’t for how close megumi was to you, he wouldn’t have noticed.

“i kind of thought you hated me, you know,” you admit.

“i could never hate you. i don’t think anyone could.”

“you don’t have to pretend,” you sigh. he didn’t notice until now that your cigarette was finished, discarded onto the dirt with your boot to crush it into ash. “i— beyond the politeness, i get it. that i’m not your type or whatever. you don’t even have to be friends with me, fushiguro-kun.”

“megumi,” he emphasizes.

“megumi.”

“i’m not pretending. i… i really fucking like you,” he slurs. “it kind of scares me how much.”

“you’re drunk.”

“i am. i know you heard me say all that shit to kugisaki and itadori, but it’s because they put me on the spot and i was nervous. i don’t know how to… deal with feelings. honestly, if i wasn’t even a little drunk right now, i’d probably have left the party with my tail in between my legs and avoided you for the next fucking week, and you don’t deserve that. you deserve… everything.”

“even you?”

when did you get so close to him? if he sauntered just a few inches in your direction, he could touch your noses together. he can smell your perfume so deeply.

“it’s the other way around,” megumi breathes. “i don’t deserve you. not anything close to you.”

“what if i want you regardless?” your voice is just above a whisper. a prayer, a hymn. a wish to be blown out.

megumi swallows the lump in his throat. he blinks at you, dark indigo luminescent. the world slows down. he may owe it to the liquor and the wine, but he assumes it’s just your presence. your scent, the softness of your hair in between his fingers, your soft breaths.

“what do you want, megumi-kun?”

he remembers something gojo said. that to be a jujutsu sorcerer, he has to be selfish. he’s not sure if that philosophy applies to the situation at hand, but he’d be damned if he let you crawl into bed tonight without knowing how he truly felt about you. so, uncharacteristically, he takes a leap forward.

he unwinds the tension in his body and presses his lips to yours. it’s soft, chaste, innocent. something like a pause. he’s afraid to touch you, but you’ve already reeled him in with arms thrown around his shoulders, fingertips touching the softness of his black hair.

you bump your nose with his, shyly, and he kisses you open-mouthed. tongue in your mouth, meshing the taste of tobacco and prickly pear. the vanilla chapstick that he’d put on before he followed you out to the backyard.

he has one hand caressing your jaw and the other on your shoulder, thumb brushing over your collarbone in a way that makes your entire body shiver. you’re embarrassed at the pool of desire in between your legs.

megumi has never let himself be full of wanting, but at the moment, his veins are surging with it. it’s like a drug to him — your warmth, your scent, the saccharine taste of your mouth. your flesh is so soft, so pliable, from the way you dip towards the cavern of his lanky body, pressed against him chest to chest. letting his hand dig into the fat of your hip. fingertips grazing the skin underneath your shirt.

maybe it’s the liquor, but he’s feeling experimental — he tucks your bottom lip in between his teeth. pulls your hair ever so slightly. you mewl into his mouth quietly and he thinks that he’s never felt anything better than this. you’re wrapped up in all of him. you can quite literally feel the heat on his cheeks and both of you realize how aroused he is, his bulge prodding your thigh.

“fuck,” he whispers into your mouth, and he pulls away. only a few inches are separating you as he takes a moment to breathe. his eyes are blown out wide, black stretching across dark blue. both of you are stunned, panting, and the tension is more palpable than ever.

a rustling of grass makes both of you jump. when he turns, he sees yuuji and nobara staring with wide eyes.

“you owe me 7,000 yen,” yuuji deadpans to nobara.

“seriously, fushiguro? i didn’t think you had it in you!”

“i always had faith in you, fushiguro!” yuuji chimes.

while you giggle, megumi growls under his breath at the new intrusions of dumb and dumber.

“i personally thought you were way out of his league,” nobara tells you.

“eat shit.” megumi seethes with arms crossed, and despite his wrath, he resembles more of an angry kitten to you than any potential threat.

“sheesh, don’t summon a shikigami on them, megumi,” you tease with a pleased grin.

“i—” he stumbles over his words in frustration, grimacing. “what do the two of you want, anyway?”

“gojo-sensei got ijichi to sing doja cat.”

“oh, i’ve gotta see this,” you snort, grabbing megumi by the hand as you begin to usher the crew back inside. his heart leaps at the feeling of your fingers intertwined with his.

despite his inhibitions, megumi’s decided that he could get used to this.

#megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #megumi x you #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #megumi fluff #megumi angst #megumi fic #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut

[lovifie]

Spidey 🕸️

Ghost x Spiderwoman!Reader

@cheomain 's idea 💗

I haven't seen the new movie, so I went with the classics, hope you like it.

You were the new member of the 141, Laswell's own recommendation. But even Price, who would trust Laswell with his life, had second thoughts about you joining. 

You were a scrawny, half-blind, way too young girl. The last person Price would have picked for the team. 

“Let them show you, John. You need her to hack and collect the intel. She can't take a grown man down, but she's a decent shot.”

So he let you join, most of the time you felt like a child; constantly being told to walk close between two of them or it would be the complete opposite and they would tell you to stay hidden taking advantage of your tiny size. 

Ghost was the one that liked you the least, he already worried about the whole team making it back home safe and they were able to fend for themselves. You? You were like a puppy, walking between their feet almost making them fall all the time, and still, you looked fucking delighted to be in the way. Ghost hated how happy you seemed to be all the time, hated how unaware of the danger you seemed to be, and he hated that he was unable to ignore how much he cared you got back safe.

But there was a thing he hated more than anything. 

Superheroes.

The 141 was one of the few task forces that still existed, in many places arguing that they were no longer needed since now there were superheroes. And the hatred the population already had for the military only got worse. 

Plus, even though Simon never joined the military to get famous, it still rubbed him the wrong way when they would go on a mission, fight for days, lose friends, and only for a random superhero to arrive when everything was almost finished and take all the glory. 

He hated them all their life, and he always wondered why people liked them so much when he was home any of them came to save him, his mom or his brother. He always hoped one would save him, but they never did. 

So both Simon and Ghost hated superheroes.

All of them. 

So when they got the intel that a lab was working on creating new superheroes, he didn't need any more convincing and started getting ready.

The five of you walked along the rows and rows of animals captive inside the lab. Luminescent fish, shielded beetles, poisonous snakes, all the kinds. Ready to be experimented with, just for selfish humans wanting to be heroes. 

“Keep walking, kid” Price mumbled behind you, making you peel your eyes away from the different fish bowls and terrariums. “Alright. Kid, you stay in this room and look around if you can find any document or proof. The four of us will go down the hall, there are some lights on, see if we can find anyone.”

You nod, already used to being left alone, and walk around the office, pushing your glasses up when they slide down your nose as you look down at the desks. Lab records of failed attempts, codified names of patients, data of the genome of the different animals they used, by the look of all of them they have been trying for years. Poor animals.

It is at that point, while you are reading the information of the different animals, that you feel a sharp pain in your lower back, right over your ass check. 

“Fuck!” You mumble, the sound reaching the team's ears through the intercom and making them still in their moves. 

You turn around, expecting to see somebody stabbing you. But you are still alone and when you look at the point the pain came from, you only see a tiny spider. 

“Fucking perfect.” You groan to yourself as you slap the spider off your body, but once again it reaches the rest of the team.

“Kid, what the fuck are you doing?” Price asks, the team still immobile waiting for your explanation. 

“Nothing, sir. Keep going.” You say, not wanting to jeopardise the mission. Part of you gets offended by how they automatically keep going without another care, but the actual logical part of you starts to panic because you just got bitten by a spider from a lab that tries and makes superhumans. 

You frantically try to find some kind of information about said spider in the files on top of the desk, almost crying when you find it and read: “Not poisonous.” 

Shots and screams can be heard from the end of the hall and you know you don't have time to read the whole file. So you snatched it, shoving it under your vest, just in time for the first people to come running out. 

“Kid! Don't engage in combat! I repeat, don't engage!” Price's voice barks in your ear.

“Roger that!” You quickly answer, hiding under the desk and holding your breath as people run around you. One of them stopped right beside you and frantically shoved around the papers just like you were doing a moment ago. 

“Shit! Shit! Shit! It's gone! The spider is gone! The file too! FUCK!” The person next to you screams, only adding to your ongoing anxiety about being bitten. 

“Leave it!” A second voice shouts getting closer. “Leave everything and run! They are activating the system! This shit is about to get blown to bits! Run!” 

The second they are far enough to grab the radio to talk to the team. “Captain! They are blowing up the lab! We need to get out!” 

“Take as much info as you can and run, kid! The door is locked, we are going out the other way, we can see the exit! Meet us at pick up!” The Captain quickly shouted back.

“What?!” You ask back. “You were leaving me here?!” 

You can make out what he says, but you stand up to look around. You need to take something with you, even if it is only to hit them with it. 

There is a laptop on top of the desk, so you grab it along with as many files as you can bring. Sprinting to the door, the workers of the lab already out of the place, way more lucky than you. The halls inside are an absolute maze, and the only thing you have to guide you out are the blood marks of those who got out before you. 

Just when you see the outside, the helo in the distance hovering just half a meter off the floor, you hear the beep beep beeeep of a countdown going off. Only managing to put a foot outside of the door, before the blast wave sends you flying forward, your glasses flying away from you. Clutching the laptop as if it were your own life, especially taking into consideration that your “team” would be more worried about it. 

Your ears ring when you open your eyes again, a buzzing sound in the background coming from the helicopter. Gaz on the open door calling your name, enough to get back on your feet and keep running; the man picks you up from your vest and takes you inside before closing the door. 

You leave the laptop on the floor, files scattering around as well as you sit on the floor, back resting against the wall, hugging your legs as you try to get your breath back. 

Gaz is looking at you worried, Soap is beside you tidying up the files, Ghost flying the helicopter and Price is behind Gaz, staring at you. 

You can't help it back look back at him with anger in your eyes, he was ready to leave you behind if you didn't get out on your own and he didn't even tell you. Suddenly feeling like your biggest ally today was the terrorist who told his colleague. 

The ringing in your eyes slowly fades away, the sound of the helicopter sounding more and more clear. 

“You solid, kid?” Price's voice sounds over the rotating blades. 

“Yeah… not thanks to you, though.” You say, mumbling the last part, pissed about it. Price chooses to ignore it, for the sake of the peace. Only giving you a look of “We'll talk later.”

By the time you reach the base, you are burning up. Every time you close your eyes being harder to open them back up, your whole body feels on fire and you're feeling pain in places you didn't even know you could. 

You should go to the infirmary, but then they would see the spider bite and it would make sense that they would want to leave you behind, or at least that's the reasoning behind your decision to instead go to your room and sleep it off. 

Or at least you would if the pain wasn't keeping you awake, you turn around in bed trying to find a comfy position failing and failing again and again. Still, at some point, it must have knocked you out because the knocking on the door wakes you up. 

The sun is out and the fever seems to be gone, so you stand up, groaning because of the residual pain and walk up to the door, opening it. Coming face to face with Ghost. 

“Morning, soldier” He greets, no kind of emotion in his voice and you can't see his face. “You skipped dinner last night and breakfast this morning, we don't need you any skinnier.”

Just then you take notice of the paper bag on his hand and the water bottle on the other. You try to use the hand that is still holding the doorknob, only to realize that it seems to be stuck to it. You furrow your eyebrow, which doesn't go unnoticed by Ghost; and you point to the table with your other hand. 

“Can you leave it there, please?” You ask, still trying to get your other hand free as you open the door more so he can come in. 

He enters the room, dropping the food on the table and turning to you with crossed arms. “Are you alright?” He asks, still confused with the way you seem to not be able to let go of the door, pulling back with all your body weight.

“Peachy.” You grunt back, your hand finally detaching from the knob and almost sending you to the floor as the door bust open hitting the wall. “A weird cramp, that's all.”

He nods slowly, walking away from the table and closer to the door. “You sure you are fine? You flew quite some meters yesterday… you lost your glasses.” He points to your face

Until he mentions it you haven’t realise because you can see perfectly fine; even better than before when you were wearing them. You furrow your brow, rubbing your eyes as if to get the bad eyesight back by pure force and you look at him, still seeing better than ever. 

“Yeah… they flew yesterday, I'll get new ones.” You say, still confused by it. He nods, telling you about letting Price know so he can give you the money back and starts to walk out of the door, turning back and rubbing his face already dreading what he is about to do. “Oh, and, hey… good job, yesterday.” 

As he talks, he raises his fist for you to bump it. Which only adds to the confusion, he really must feel bad for leaving you behind yesterday. Still, the situation is so awkward it is causing you physical pain, so you bump his fist to get over with it and close the door with your feet when he leaves. 

Once alone in your room, you rub your face with frustration only for your fingertips to get stuck on your forehead. You stay paralyzed for a second, not understanding what is going on and trying to peel your hands away from your face. 

Your skin stings when you try to pull making you whence, understanding that you can't just pull. So you close your eyes, take a deep breath and quickly pull your hands as if you could catch it by surprise. You curse when it obviously doesn't work walking back, knocking the water bottle off the table, surprising yourself when your hands catch the bottle before it even rolls off the table.

Something tells you to look at your phone, and just when you do a message pops up. You focus all your senses on letting go of the bottle and it falls off your hands like normal, making you doubt if you really got stuck before. You look at your phone, using your knuckle to unlock it and tapping in the password to read Ghost's message.

💀: Debriefing in 20’

💀: Shower!

“Rude.” You think, knowing damn well that you stink for coming straight from the mission and spending the night sweating. You type back with your knuckle:

🕷️: rofer thar

“Shit… close enough” You lock the phone and take off your clothes to shower. Once on your underwear, you turn to look into the mirror the spider bite on your hip; only to see that your body is not the same as yesterday's. 

It looks like you gained at least 10 kilos of pure muscle, your biceps popping out, shoulders rounded out by muscle, thicker thighs that you know will not fit on your pants anymore, rounder ass and overall the athletic build of some kind of olympic athlete. 

The only mark on your skin being the bite, even some of your freckles are gone from your skin. The bite, on the other hand, looks terrible. Two little dark purple dots are visible, the surrounding red and angry and little lighting-like red lines go out of it, going up your back and around your hip. 

You take a deep breath and jump into the shower, using the back of your hands to do so, which only makes it trickier. Once washed, you look into your closet taking out the only clothes you believe will fit you. A pair of leggings that sit just a bit too tight and an oversized sweatshirt to cover as much as possible. 

You put on your shoes and walk to the captain's office; to your disgrace, the door is closed and you knock. You hear, as if it was right behind you, a “C’mon in”. But you don't want to risk it getting stuck, so you play dumb and knock again. Ghost opens the door and comes face to face with you again, much closer than in your room and you see his eyebrow furrow 

“Have you gone on a growth sprout in the last 20 minutes?” He asks, confusion clear in his tone. “And are you wearing makeup?”

You realize that the freckles on your face must have banished too, plus the fact that the bags under your eyes seemed to be gone as well last time you checked. 

“No. Must be the shoes.” You answer, walking under his arm inside the room feeling his eyes travel down your body. You sit down next to Gaz, looking at Price as Ghost closes the door and sits down, still looking at you. 

“First thing first.” The captain says clearing his throat. “Great job yesterday, you can work on the laptop whenever you want, kid. And also, good job for the heads-up about the bomb.” 

“You didn't know?” You ask, confused by his words.

He shakes his head. “We were wondering why everyone was running out, we tried to go back to you and the gates were blocked, we were suspicious of it but you confirmed it.”

You nod your head slowly, taking it in.“All set, then, right?” He asks looking at the four others. “If you are still mad you can say it, I don't want my team keeping their thoughts in only for them to explode in the middle of the mission. Is there anything you want to say, kid?”

TagList: @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @kayden666 @dumb12bvtch1212 @thatonepupkai @glocuseguardian3rd @darkangel4121 @risingofjupiter @spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @lunari0 @dukeofjjune @soupinasock @marymustdie @arbesa-mind @cmbghost @dilara-del @multifandomheathenannie @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk @reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles

#call of duty #ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod x reader #cod #ghost cod #simon riley imagine #call of duty x reader #cod modern warfare #simon imagine #ghost imagine #simon ghost imagine #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #captain price #task force 141 x reader #task force 141 #call of duty ghost #cod ghost #ghost fic

[livlaughloveluke]

underwater moments w/ Poseidon!reader x Luke

𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗡 - 𝗟.𝗖

daughter of poseidon! reader x luke castellan 🪸

[headcannons]

summary: you’re dating the famous hermes boy 💘

warnings: no betrayal luke 🥳, percy is a lil bro, fem reader, not all of these are underwater moments

a/n- i’m back for now guys!!

sneaking out for starlit swims !!

you and luke spend your nights secretly swimming under the dark waters of camp half-blood, while the moon grazes the surface and turns the black depths glittery. you and him try to remain quiet, but how could you resist laughter when he almost accidentally drowned, twice?!

the famous underwater kisses <3

with little privacy at the kid-filled camp, you and luke rarely found moments alone. all you had time for were sneaky, quick kisses in between planned activities. as a child of poseidon, you found a way to solve this intimate problem—underwater kisses. creating an air bubble under the lake allowed for a moment with no curious glances—at least from most. (the fishies and a certain pesky brother often interrupt)

going pearl diving!

luke likes to sunbathe in the gleaming sun, resting on the docks while you splash around in the blue lake. you dive down deep, searching for the prettiest pearls underwater and placing him on the wood surface next to him. this could go on for hours, you entertained by the adventure and luke just happy to be in your presence. the next day, luke graciously gifted you a gorgeous necklace made with the pearls you excavated.

surfing and paddle boarding 🏄‍♀️

while the calm waters don’t offer many waves, every once in a while you like to manipulate the liquid so you can surf. not to mention, you love to instruct luke, too. he’s not the best, but he’s willing to give anything a try. (if we’re being honest, he hates it. he hates constantly falling off the board and sharply coming into contact with the water, but he’d do anything if it meant you were happy.)

in contrast, he loves to paddle board with you. it’s more gentle, and he can actually talk to you while in the water.

the olive theory! (but with cherries)

definitelyyyy the type of guy to pretend he doesn’t like cherries just because he knows you love them more. every morning at breakfast, he slides you his small fruit cup with only the cherries remaining, and you eat it up every time. unbeknownst to you, he’s only doing this to see you smile. he loves the way your lips curl up into a smile when you eat them, the juices staining your lips with a shade of red. he would give up anything to see you smile like that. 

carrying a waterproof digital camera around 📸

he loves loves LOVES to take photos of you! whether your swimming in the lake or picking strawberries in the fields, he’s by your side with the camera directed towards you. he’s the number one candid picture taker! and when you ask why, he usually presents you with some dumb excuse or pickup line to conceal the fact that he’s totally whipped for you. 

“ew, stoppp! i look so bad right now! why do you like taking so many photos anyway?”

“dunno. you’re the subject of all my dreams, sweetheart.”

late night beach bonfires

singing, laughing, and cuddling by the warmth of a campfire with all your friends is a weekly occurrence for you and luke. it feels like you’re both just normal teens, living life with no fear of monsters attacking or angry greek gods. plus, he makes BOMB s’mores. 

CHAOTIC game nights with percy 

attempting to play charades with your little brother, but overall he just gets mad and rage quits because you couldn’t guess the word. oh, and we can’t forget the craziest uno nights. you and percy arguing over the rules while luke just stands awkwardly in the corner.

“you can’t place a draw two on a draw four! it doesn’t work that way!”

“yes you can!! suck it up and draw your six cards!”

“uh, guys…? 🧍‍♂️”

the annual cabin decoration contest ! (yes, i made this up)

when that time rolls around, you and percy are DETERMINED to have the best cabin. you hang up seashells, scatter around the prettiest dried coral on shelves, and buy fairy lights for a cozy atmosphere. luke watches from afar as you and percy playfully argue whether a lana del rey poster would “fit the theme.” to be fair, it was a tunnel under OCEAN blvd poster.

[luke masterlist] ★ [request here] ★ [poseidon moodboard]

#luke castellan #luke castellan headcanons #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan blurb #liv’s writing ! #liv yaps

[joelscruff]

safety (boyfriend's dad!joel x f!reader)

just a bit of an origin story for my boyfriend's dad!joel relationship. you can read other installments of this fic here. this one isn't smutty but i hope you enjoy 💕 and here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip. summary: you find yourself falling for your boyfriend's father. rating: 18+ (mdni) warnings: age difference, cheating, daddy issues, daddy kink, lap sitting, pet names (use of babygirl) word count: 2.2k

the first time your boyfriend's father kisses you, it's because you ask him to.

you've always looked at him a bit differently, always found yourself taking quick peeks out of the corner of your eye whenever he's in the room, given him shy smiles and giggled at all his jokes (most of which were actually funny, believe it or not). the first time you'd met him you'd gone to shake his hand, expecting a firm shake and a quick nod like your own father, but he'd surprised you completely when he'd wrapped you up in his arms, given you a bear hug and softly told you he was so happy to meet you.

your boyfriend always rolls his eyes at his father's affection, his jokes, his quirks. it's been almost disappointing in a way, to see the way his father behaves in comparison to his son. your boyfriend constantly seems to cultivate a cold exterior - and interior, if you're being honest with yourself - while his father radiates warmth and welcomeness, a safeness you've never seen in your own father. you wonder how your boyfriend is able to take such advantage of his father's kindness, that safety that so many people can only crave and never experience.

the two of you fight a lot, but this is normal for you. every relationship you've had - whether familial or romantic - has involved some form of conflict. it's just the way things are; you've come to accept that. the only difference is that before this you never had a third party standing on the outside, witnessing it, worrying about it.

"are you okay?"

the first time he catches you crying you feel embarrassed; until this point you've put on a good front, been your sweet and passive self around him. now he sees a different side of you, the side everyone else in your life has seen dozens of times. the side that hurts, feels pain, suffers.

you nod, leaning against the banister of the front patio and biting your lip, "yeah, i'm fine," your voice cracks and breaks - you're not fine, your boyfriend just berated you for messing up his concentration during one of his stupid games, called you a waste of space. but you're not going to tell his father that.

"you don't look fine," he murmurs, taking a step toward you, "something happen?"

you shake your head, "no really, i'm okay, mr. miller."

"joel," he corrects you softly with a gentle smile, and you try to smile back.

"joel," you repeat, "sorry."

"don't be sorry," he says tenderly, taking another step toward you and carefully placing a hand on your shoulder, "i want you to know...if you ever need to talk to somebody, i'm here. i'll always listen, alright?"

you're not sure what to say; no one has ever given you an offer like that before. it's confusing and surreal. your brow furrows but you slowly nod, "okay."

he gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze and then goes back inside the house, leaving you standing there alone. the ghost of his touch weighs heavily for the rest of the evening, his words echoing in your mind. he can't really mean that, can he?

the next time he sees you cry it's only about a week after the first time, and this time he knows what's wrong. you can see it in his expression, the quiet anger burning behind his glasses for his own son.

"i won't defend him," he tells you softly, sitting next to you on the couch in the living room while your boyfriend yells something incoherent down the hall, "you can talk to me."

you find yourself confiding in him briefly, only briefly. you don't go into much detail, just tell him you hate being made to feel worthless, that it's something you've dealt with for a long time. he touches your shoulder again, squeezes it calmingly, reassuringly. you look into his eyes and feel yourself falling before you can even register it. he cares about you.

you think about him a lot. during the day, nights, when you're in bed and can't sleep and just want somebody to hold you. you imagine his arms wrapped around you, remember that first time you met when he'd hugged you so tight and welcomed you so warmly. you want him to hold you like that again, touch you, love you. you touch yourself and pretend it's his fingers, you bury your face in your pillow as you come and pretend it's his chest.

you think of him when you have sex with your boyfriend. you'd feel bad, but you've started to become numb with the way he treats you, uses you. you close your eyes and curl your hand in his hair and pretend it's his father on top of you, his father inside you, his father kissing your neck.

every week your boyfriend competes in ridiculously boring online competitions; you show up at his house only for the promise of seeing joel, talking to him, sharing a quick moment in the kitchen or living room with him. you sit on your boyfriend's bed and watch from afar as he bangs on the keyboard and shouts aggressive things into his microphone, sounding like a whiny and petulant child. you wonder what you even see in him anymore, what you even saw in him to begin with. you should end it, you know you should. but then how would you see his dad?

he berates you again for messing up his concentration, tells you to leave for a bit and to "stop being so annoying". you don't even protest, just climb off his bed and leave the room, slamming the door louder than necessary behind you.

joel spends a lot of time in his office; he's the head of a contracting company, always making plans, doing paperwork, making phone calls. he has his shit together, another thing you feel drawn to. he's the only person in your life who seems to know exactly what to do in any given situation, knows who he is and where he's going.

you find yourself climbing the stairs and knocking softly on his office door. "come in," he calls from inside, and you slowly push it open.

he looks up from his desk, scattered with paper and blueprints. his brow furrows when he sees it's you, "hey, sweetheart, you alright?"

you close the door behind you and then stand there for a few seconds just staring at him; he's got on a cozy looking grey sweater, knitted and warm. his jeans are dark and his socks are mismatched, a quirk you love. he looks perfectly disheveled in his joel miller sort of way, hair thick and curly, beard scruffy and soft. his glasses accentuate the kindness of his eyes, the tenderness as he looks at you. he's like a comforting beam of light, a safe haven.

"can you hold me?" you ask softly, barely a whisper. it's out before you even know you're saying it, and then you're biting down hard on your lip and feeling tears prick in your eyes.

he seems surprised but only for a moment, then he makes his way toward you in two long strides and wraps his arms around you, pulling you in and holding you close. you melt into his embrace, burying your head in his warm sweater and almost collapsing into his arms, feeling yourself begin to cry steadily. you should feel embarrassed but you're too overwhelmed by the feeling of finally being held by him again, feeling him so close, inhaling the comforting scent of him.

you feel him press a soft kiss to the top of your head, a gesture of comfort and safety, nothing more, "you're okay," he murmurs into your hair, "i've got you."

he holds you like that for a long time and makes no move to let go, just lets you stand there and take what you desperately need from him. your cries die down eventually until you're sniffling lightly into the thick fabric of his sweater and just breathing him in. his hands trail up and down your back comfortingly, tracing patterns and words, almost like a secret language.

"i feel safe with you," you mumble against his chest, but the words are muffled and hard to make out.

"hm?"

you pull back a bit to peer up at him with tear-filled eyes, cheeks pink and puffy, "i feel safe with you," you repeat, voice shaky but much more relaxed, calm.

he smiles softly, peering down at you with that familiar tenderness, "i'm glad," he murmurs, and you swear you catch his eyes trail down to your lips for a brief moment, "i want you to feel safe with me."

"can you kiss me?" you whisper, voice breaking on the last word, not caring that this could make or break the quiet companionship you've formed with him, "please."

his brow furrows again but he doesn't pull away, lips parting a bit in surprise, "sweetheart, i'm not sure that's-"

"please," you repeat, voice raw and desperate, "it's all i think about."

his expression relaxes then, the tenderness returning. with a resigned look you watch as he leans his face down toward you; you close your eyes and allow him to press his lips gently against yours, soft and sweet. he's so gentle, so warm, so safe. your arms wrap tighter around him as you kiss him back, a soft whimper falling from the back of your throat. it's perfect. he's perfect.

when he pulls away he leaves his forehead pressed against yours, and when you open your eyes your heart stutters when you see his face so close, lips wet from your saliva and eyes dark with desire.

"that what you needed?" he murmurs softly, nose brushing against yours.

you nod and kiss him again, humming quietly against him when he pulls you in closer and palms your back firmly, holding you close. you're not sure how it happens but you both end up on the small couch in the corner of his office, him sitting back against the cushions while you seat yourself in his lap, a leg on either side of his thighs. his hands travel inside your shirt, exploring the soft expanse of your back as you whimper again into his mouth and revel in the feeling of being touched by someone so different.

"what else do you need?" he breathes, voice deep and husky as his hands travel from your back to your face, cradling it in his palms, "i'll give it to you, sweetheart, anything you ask. just tell me."

you could say a multitude of things; you could tell him to kiss you again, touch you, fuck you, the list goes on. and you want him to do all of that, but the one thing on your mind is what inevitably slips past your lips.

"i just want you to hold me," you whisper, and you don't care if you sound pathetic, "please."

he looks at you with a great deal of pain in his eyes, an empathetic gaze you've seen numerous times. he thumbs your cheeks, wipes away the tears there and slowly nods.

"okay, babygirl," he murmurs, "i'll hold you."

you sit in his lap for the next hour. it's quiet and peaceful and perfect; he rubs your back while you bury your face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in and letting his presence completely invade your senses. you fall asleep briefly, but when you wake up you're happy to find that you're still in his lap, still being held. he makes absolutely no moves to remove you from him, to pull away or leave the room. he just holds you.

"thank you," you whisper finally; it's time to leave, you know this. your boyfriend will be looking for you soon, wondering where you went and why you didn't come back. you pull your face up from joel's neck and look down at him with tenderness, love.

"any time," he murmurs with a gentle smile, then leans forward a bit to press a tiny kiss to the tip of your nose, "i mean it, sweetheart. any time you're upset, any time you need to be held...you come to me, okay?"

you nod, biting down on your lip to keep the tears at bay, "no one's ever held me like this before," you whisper, "not even my own father."

his brows scrunch together and he touches your arms, squeezing them carefully in his hands, "i'm sorry, babygirl," he breathes, "you don't deserve that," his eyes capture yours in an intimate gaze, "you deserve the world."

the word is there, fighting to be spoken behind your lips. but you don't say it. you don't want to make him uncomfortable, don't want to ruin something that's only just started. but you feel it there, the desire to call him what you've been wanting to call him since the day you met. but that's a conversation for another day.

instead of words, you settle for a kiss. you lean down and touch your mouth to his, feel the gentle scratch of his scruff against your chin as you open a bit wider to allow his tongue to prod inside, just for a moment. he tastes like comfort, feels like safety.

daddy.

#joel miller x reader #fic: bd!joel #*

[rockrosethistle]

"Ted Spankoffski is so tragic" yes yes I agree with you but you know who we don't talk about enough?

The man, the myth, the legend, Ethan Green.

Everyone loves to talk about how much they love him, but you are all forgetting that he is heartbreaking.

So first of all, he loves Lex. Incredibly devoted. And you're thinking, "well obviously he loves his girlfriend?" But I am not exaggerating when I say nearly every decision this man makes is for the sake of making her happy.

He cares about her opinion of him. He cares about how she's feeling. Ethan literally has more emotional intelligence as a 19-20 year old than most grown men do. He was going to propose!

And then his relationship with Hannah. At the ripe old age of 19, Ethan steps into a fatherly role for his girlfriend's kid sister, and he fucking kills it. If he is devoted to Lex, he's protective of Hannah. He dies trying to fight off people that want to hurt her.

The first time we see him in Yellowjacket, he's trying to cheer Hannah up after her shop class accident. On Hannah's birthday, he takes her out to Pizza Pete's even though he doesn't have the money to spare. She is a priority to him. He even wears a little birthday celebration crown.

On top of that, he's a decent guy. Yes, he's not above threatening people or stealing, but his heart is always in the right place when he does it. He puts the effort into his relationship. He is shown apologizing when he fucks up and recognizing his mistakes. He saves Lex and Hannah's life's at the end of Yellowjacket.

Great, right? No. Not great. The narrative is consistently ruining his life.

He dies in Black Friday. Dies in a brutal way while being ambushed for a doll that he didn't have. He actually dies for nothing. And his very last words are "I'll get you to California, Lex. That way you don't gotta cry so much no more." Was Lex in the room? No. He was hallucinating her. Fucking devastating.

And then, his face gets worn by a dark god to torment Hannah. Hannah, one of the people he cared most about, is being toyed with by something wearing Ethan's face. You just know he's watching in the afterlife feeling utterly powerless.

There are timelines where Ethan and Lex accept larger jail sentences so that Hannah isn't left alone. He is not related to Hannah, or Lex. He has no real obligation to do that. He chooses to, for Hannah's sake. And has to spend years in jail.

In Yellowjacket, after all they've been through, after he bought the damn ring, the girls just leave him behind. He gets broken up with via a note while they escape to California. And you know it's for the better, you know it's for his own safety, but it still hurts.

There was even supposed to be a Nightmare Time episode where he comes back from the dead Pet-Cemetery style, murders Hannah, and then is tortured for eternity?? But then the Langs were like "No, actually, everyone would hate this." and thank God because Ethan does not need that on his plate.

Look at this. "We caught you a poki-man." He's too good I miss him so much.

This poor guy does nothing wrong and is constantly being punished. I need in my bones to have a universe where he marries Lex and they get custody of Hannah.

#ethan green #black friday musical #nightmare time #nmt #nmt2 #starkid #hatchetfield #hatchetverse #joey richter #robert manion #lex foster #hannah foster #long post #rant #essay

[yannaryartside]

CARMY NEVER WANTED TO CREATE A MENU WITH SYD.

AND WHY THAT IS THE CORE THEME OF THE SHOW

PART 1: THE LIE THAT CARMY BELIEVES

So, one of the bases of creating an efficient character arc is to give the character something they want, and something they need. In the pursuit of getting what they want, the theme of the show and obstacles will show them what they need. Most of the time, they need healing from an emotional wound that prevents them from growing into the ultimate version of themselves, capable of winning the challenges of the story. I will try to explore Carmy's wound and, more importantly, the lie that created that wound.

In 'The negative trait thesaurus" by Angela Ackerman and Becca Puglisi, it reads:

"Wounds are often kept secret from others because embedded within them is the lie-an untruth that the character believes about himself."

When I started therapy (disclaimer: this is not professional advice; I am just talking from how I interpreted all of this), I was introduced to the concept of "limiting beliefs:" lies we have told ourselves about our own nature or the nature of the world. The most difficult beliefs to leave behind are those established in our early childhoods, and we told ourselves those lies to make sense of the world, to make peace with realities we were not equipped to comprehend yet. 

Some examples of lies people belive:

"I am too stupid to learn anything; my teacher said so" "It was my fault that I was molested." "I am a bad person for wanting a different life."

When people believe these lies, they will act accordingly, maybe attracting situations that hurt them but keeping the lie active in their lives. They may self-sabotage or create bonds with people who also believe the lie, even if it doesn't seem this way. 

In some cases, people may develop complete personalities or behaviors to prove the lie wrong, but deep down, they still believe in the lie. Carmy falls into this last category. This is where we find the most contradictory parts of his personality, how he can act shy and insecure in some instances and appear confident and even aggressive in others. 

Long post underneath.

THE RESENT OF A MOTHER:

We can only assume here because I think Storer is gonna let us know more about this soon, but I think I got an idea of this wound when I saw the only moment Carmy was alone with Donna on "Fishes."

I have a lot of things to say about Donna herself, but let's begin with the obvious: the conversation in this scene had little to do with the dinner itself. This was a woman stating that she felt alone and not valued, probably due to being abandoned by her husband and having to overwork herself at the beef to support her 3 kids, all while being a single mother. We don't know if this feeling of abandonment is something she has carried since childhood, but in the state of current womanhood, it wouldn't be uncommon. The work of women (especially mothers), particularly the emotional labor, is rather invisible and not valued at all.

But again, this is something she has used as fuel to resent her kids, who, at the end of the day, didn't ask to be here. Her anger has to go somewhere since she cannot direct it toward the people that ctually caused it. To get to the point:

THE BEARZATTO SYBLING DYNAMIC

Carmy said, "You are not alone; I am here with you." (This kind of comes back to telling Syd she was not alone at the end of the season.) This scene is about a kid trying to communicate to his mother that he loves her and trying desperately to connect with her, to get her to express her affection for him as well.

It tells me that growing up, he felt like he had to "earn" her affection. Donna likes to make her kids feel guilty about her unhappiness, so the kids feel that they are constantly walking on shells because they think their mother hates them, or at least that she resents them and that it is their responsibility to fix it.

In the scene, Carmy asked,

"What is so hard, Mom?"

I think what he was actually asking is, "What is so hard about being with us, to love us? What did we do to you that made you resent us this way?" He is asking because he wants to know, to finally understand. Why do you drink, Mom? Why do you yell? Why do you say such hurtful things?

When she answers, "Nobody makes things beautiful for me," you can see in his face the disconnection. He knows he can't do anything about that.

Then, a crucial part in the scene occurs when Donna calls him "Michael, " which indicates that the only one of her children who could make her feel happy was Michael, or at least that is how the other two kids felt. You can see the hurt in Carmy's eyes in the scene because this answer dismisses his effort to connect to his mother in his own right. She asks him to just leave. He offers to wait to connect with her. Then, it comes to the most chilling moment on the scene, the "we have a problem" using his full name, with resentment in every word. She hugs him while crying, kisses him, and then slaps him.

This is rejection. There is a book called "The Five Wounds of the Soul": wich are Rejection, Abandonment, Humiliation, Betrayal, and Injustice. I think Carmy's wound is rejection, for never earning his mother's love, particularly comparing himself to Michael.

Michael took responsibility for the Beef, finally giving their mom a break. It was Michael's job to make sure everyone was having a good time, to compensate for the discomfort that caused being in Donna's presence, to make sure all of them stayed as a family, which was Donna's intention, so Michael thought he had to make that happen for her. Therefore, Michael is the only one of her kids who succeeds and makes her happy. We know Donna rejects Natalie and Carmy. About Natalie, we can write another whole essay.

THE LIE THAT CARMY BELIVES

According to this scene, I think Carmy thinks that her mother didn't love him because he is not Michael; in fact, he is the most "not like Michael" someone could be. He was shy and stuttered and didn't have friends or girlfriends, comparable to Michael's ability to control every room he was in. Carmy was sensible and no macho alfa as Michael presented himself to be. Carmy left home and the family business, and both Michael and Donna expressed that they feel like he thinks he is better than them. Michael admitted later to admiring Carmy's work in Copenhagen, but Donna never did. carmy grew up having to live with the crumbles of Donna's attention that Michael left behind, wondering every day what was so wrong with him that made her reject him, and wondering what he could do to change that.

The lie that Carmy belives, could be sumarize this way:

I need to earn people's love. I need to always go the extra mile, doing the most possible at all times to earn people's love.

This all goes back to his trauma with Michael. It goes back to his career as a chef and how he became the best. He didn't need to succeed on a larger scale in the culinary industry to earn Michael's respect and love; he needed to be the best in the world, so he did that. He judges his own social abilities, comparing them to Miachae's. He left that promising career only because of Michae's death. He got the girlfriend Michael wanted for him (not saying it was the only reason, but it was there).

PART 2: WHAT DOES ALL OF THIS HAD TO DO WITH SYDNEY?

Well, what does a person who feels they always need to do the most? They do the most. I want to bring you back to the moments Carmy had to develop menu ideas with Syd on s1 and s2.

When Syd suggested items for the menu in s1, he gave her an inconclusive, not enthusiastic "maybe."

When she had to actually cook the thing for him to approve, he tried to make her feel small about it. He felt the need to remind her that she was "impatient and green," according to her previous bosses. He commented about her possibly ruining the flow by using time to cook her recipe. Yikes all around, but the core here is that he was treating her like an enemy, like competition, while she was trying to save the restaurant with what they had on hand to use the most efficient solution.

Then, when Carmy tries the dish and feels stunned by it, he has to make an ambiguous excuse on the fly and just finishes every chance of them using the recipe by saying, "is not ready yet"

And what does he do next? He goes to show the crew a recipe that is extremely complicated for the level they are operating at currently—they said so themselves. I think the recipe is a variation of Donna's butter chicken recipe. To put a nail on that coffin of his intentions to earn her love and approval at the end of it all.

But why does he do all this? Because he needs to be the hero, subconsciously, he is still that small kid begging for acceptance and love; he must go the extra mile. He cannot accept Sydney's help and partnership, because that will take away from him earning what he wants on his own merit.

In S2, he seems unenthusiastic about starting the menu in the first place. Then Claire comes along, and he tries to make it work with Syd and the menu, but I think he subconsciously thanks the universe for not having to go to his core wound. That is what self-sabotage is. That is why he bailed on the food tour with Syd, using such a stupid excuse as helping somebody else move out and never mentioning it again. He never asked her what she liked or what ideas she thought of. For most of the creative process, Syd is alone, working on her own creative crisis. The menu ends up being like two recipes they made in collaboration and then all of his family's traditional recipes. It is two of Syd's recipes and the rest of Carmy's. Then, desserts Marcus did on his own. The collaboration was superficial at best.

All of this creates the core theme of the show. The Bear was once a chaotic place (like their childhood home) that needs to evolve into an efficient, peaceful place built on love, support, and mutual collaboration like a functional family should be. Sydney is the member of this found family that forces Carmy to confront his core wound and learn he can actually be good enough while still accepting help. Therapy probably will play an important part in this theme, alongside with Carmy learning there was nothing wrong with him in the first place, that earning your parent's love is not something a kid can do.

Thankyou for reading. Gif and images are not mine.

#sydcarmy #the bear meta #sydney adamu #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #the bear fx #the bear #sydney x carmy #carmy the bear #carmy x sydney #the bear hulu #donna berzatto #michael berzatto #natalie berzatto

[r0-boat]

Because I’m starving for the boy who clearly came out of a shoujo manga. The true beauty of Hades imho. Could I request some sweet and maybe spicy Foras headcanons? 🌸

Ooh YES!!

Foras headcanons

Nsfw&Sfw

Cw: stalking, dubcon.

Sfw

Foras is in unknown territory. It's just a flutter every time he sees you. You're so bright and lively that he shy is always so easily. But at the same time, it's that same bright and liveliness He wants to protect and cherish. He has never been in love before. And the fluttery feelings honestly scare him.

Balancing his love and loyalty for his king and his love for you is difficult... Especially when the two of you fight like angels and devils. He knows how much you don't like Levi but he'll still at least try to get you to have a better relationship. (He doesn't know the dynamic you two have) he can't help but selfishly fantasize about having both you and leviathan his arms. And he hates seeing two people he loves fight.

Foras wants you but never dared to act on those feelings; call it shyness. Or call it not wanting to give unwanted competition to his king. He avoids you when he's visible; when he's invisible, he's practically your new shadow. He passes off as an excuse, throwing his king under the bus. Telling you that Levi had ordered him to stalk you. (Something he would tell you if you actually catch him) which is half true. Yes, Levi wants him to follow you around everywhere you go to report back to him. But honestly, he's just as curious about you as Levi.

But will not fight you if You're the one initiates. In fact, he would prefer that; his heart would go wild if you pull on his ropes and pull them into a kiss. He doesn't care if he gets punished for this. He wants to feel your soft lips against his.

Touch starved. Extremely touched starved. Melting into your hand when you pat his head, touched starved. He wants more, but he doesn't want to ask.

He feels that little pain in his chest, poisonous jealousy when other devils get your attention. But, he had never acted out on those feelings before.

He would only do something if it protected you. Or if an angel attacked you and your all alone. He is the reason that water or snacks would magically appear if you say the your hungry or thirsty.

Nsfw

He can't say that he has claim over you, Even though it'd feel good too. He wants to claim you in more ways, claim the inside of his body in the most prime way. He touches himself every night dreaming to how you would feel. Every night, he would touch himself to you, wishing and wanting. He hates to admit it, but one time, he came into your room invisible and walked in on you, touching yourself. His breath was getting heavy and shaky, looking how your fingers and hands played with yourself. After a while of watching you, he gives in, sliding his hand into his pants to palm himself. Biting his lip to hold back his sounds.

His greatest fantasy is fucking you in front of Leviathan. Whether it be ordered to do so or not, it's something that he jacks off to constantly.

Despite being a devil, He's actually sort of innocent by devil standards. He has never had sex before.

Now that he is over you, his face is pink, and he is nervous; he wants to pleasure you. He wants to make you feel good. even though he's very nervous. At least he knows how you like to touch yourself.

Pull on his chains will you ride him; he'll go insane. Those things are just for decoration, so they might break, but he doesn't care. The sight was so hot he filled you up on the spot.

Closet pervert. Chivalrous knight of hell is a closet pervert! He has a virgin but at the same time he thinks about doing real nasty things to you you'll never know because of his straight face.

#smut #whb x reader #whb foras #whb mc #what in “hell” is bad? #what in hell is bad #wihib x reader #wihib #whb #whb fanfic #whb headcanons #sorry for the terrible quality of that image ew

[sourpatchys]

Daryl Dixon Headcannons

Sfw❤️ nsfw❤️‍🔥

The NSFW content is targeted towards an AFAB reader (like myself) however, I’d be happy to do an AMAB version if anyone is interested!

❤️.

Daryl is always watching you. The guys favorite hobby is just being able to see you in his field of vision.

He definitely doesn’t show public displays of affection, PDA is not something he’s comfortable with, and if you were to kiss him in front of a bunch of people he might even get a little upset, simply because he doesn’t want to share that part of himself with anyone but you.

However! He doesn’t hold back when it comes to hand holding. This guy loves feeling your touch and being able to physically hold you in a way that tells him you’re safe.

Usually he just wraps his pinky around yours, if he does full on hold your hand it’s almost always accompanied by two squeezes that mean “I love you”.

That’s usually how he tells you he loves you, he’s not super emotionally available, two squeezes is all it takes. On your arm, your leg, hand, even the top of your head on a few occasions.

He did NOT ask you to be his. Absolutely not. You just kinda were one day.

Back at the prison when he and Merle had come back, Merle made a pass at you and Daryl told him to leave “his girl alone”.

You didn’t object, and that’s how it became official.

That’s not to say Daryl can’t be romantic. He definitely can be when he wants to.

He’s constantly leaving you flowers he finds that remind him of you, and sometimes he even scribbles down a note telling you why.

You always have to be comfortable. If it were up to him you’d live on a cloud.

When you two are alone he finds himself mindlessly running his fingers through your hair, it always calms him down.

And yes, he secretly loves it when you do it back.

It’s actually not secret at all.

You two will argue. He’s a gruff guy and you can be stubborn.

He has a hard time apologizing to you, he hates that he even has to. It can take days before you guys are on speaking terms again.

If you’re the one who has to apologize, you’re pretty quick with it once you can tell he’s ready for it. He’s not a super forgiving guy, but when it comes to you, he always hears you out once it’s over and done with.

Contrary to popular belief he won’t ever stop you from doing something you want to do. Even if it is dangerous.

He trusts you more than life itself. And if you think you can do it, he’s going to be your biggest supporter— but that’s not to say he won’t try to go with you.

He is a jealous guy though. He has a hard time believing he deserves you sometimes, so if someone looks at you wrong or gets too close, he’s quick to shut that shit down.

Negative thoughts are usually what causes the most issues between the two of you. He tries to run away from you a lot, and you refuse to let him.

He was never big on writing much of anything until you two got a little more serious. He had all these thoughts and feelings but he was afraid to tell you out loud, so he started writing little bits and pieces and leaving them in your stuff for you to find.

You love how scrawly his handwriting is.

It took you a good few minutes to even be able to read it the first few times, but eventually it came to you like second nature.

Sometimes you leave notes for him too, you know how private he is, so notes are the best way for you to tell him you love him.

He keeps the first note you ever wrote him on his person at all times. Seeing the words “I love you” written down in your handwriting never fails to keep him going, especially when he has to be apart from you.

Daryl Dixon is a bed hog.

Once he got comfortable sleeping with you, he started sprawling out like a starfish.

He refuses to admit it. He actually tried to convince you that you were the bed hog instead.

You learned to love it after a while.

❤️‍🔥.

Sex was not something that came naturally to Daryl. As crazy as he was before the world fell apart, he was never actually sober for any of his flings, one night stands or short term relationships.

He basically learned everything from scratch with you.

He NEVER initiated sex. Maybe he’d touch your arm or grab your thigh in a suggestive way to try and get the ball rolling, but he absolutely refused to do anything if you didn’t catch the hint.

Daryl, is in fact, a boob and thigh man. Regardless of how big or small your breast and thighs are, he can’t stop himself from staring.

When you ride him it’s like his brain turns to mush. He completely forgets how to act.

When you’d suggested it he almost dismissed you, no WAY was he going to enjoy being pinned down like that.

But oh boy did he.

Sometimes, when the two of you were alone, he felt like a teenager again. It kinda pissed him off how wrapped around your finger he actually was. He’d never felt this, undying attraction towards anyone before.

He’s not vocal during sex at all, maybe some grunts here and there— he finds the noises embarrassing.

If you’re making a lot of noise he also gets embarrassed from that.

“Shut the hell up, woman!”

Recently he’s just started putting his hand over your mouth instinctively.

You do in fact make the noises just to have a laugh, you think it’s adorable when he’s embarrassed, and you don’t get to see it very often.

He absolutely loves going down on you, the feeling of your thighs around his head and the sight of your breasts going up and down with each breath you take really gets him going.

Obviously running around during an apocalypse doesn’t exactly leave much room for deodorant and regular showers.

He’s very embarrassed about it— and will NEVER admit it out loud— but he’s really attracted to your natural scent.

So the lack of personal hygiene will never make him stop wanting you. If anything it makes him want you more.

That’s not to say seeing you cleaned up isn’t a turn on though. That first night in Alexandria when you got all cleaned and dressed up borderline has him in his knees.

He’s a gentle lover— unless you ask him not to be.

He’s aware that he’s a pretty strong guy, and he knows his limits. But if you’re into being pounded like no tomorrow— he won’t turn you down.

It might take awhile for him to get used to the idea, but seeing how absolutely crazy you get takes all his concern out of the window.

He does NOT have a daddy kink.

If you have past experiences he wants to hear about them.

Because of how jealous he is, he needs to know how you were treated before so he can make sure he doesn’t better.

His goal in life is to keep you alive— and make sure you never want another man ever again.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixion x reader #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #twd daryl #twd #daryl dixon headcanon

[flynnriderishot]

heeey um i got my antidepressants dose increased :’) i hate how im feeling these days and my ed is getting out of control i wish i could stop taking them haha could you maybe write something where vinnie comforts and takes care of the reader on her really bad days? ilysm thank you 🥹🫶🏼

not alone - v.h

a/n: i want to start off by saying that i’m so sorry for how you’re feeling. i’ve been in your position before and can promise that it gets better. my private messages are always open if you’d like to talk to me about anything (this is open for everyone). i also want to apologize for how long it took me to get through to your request, it was buried deep within my inbox.

you haven’t been feeling your best lately. far from it, actually.

you couldn’t really pinpoint why you’ve been feeling off, but it was definitely noticeable to your friends, family and boyfriend that your usual bubbly personality has slowly been melting away as the days been by.

it started off with you spacing out during conversations, to not giving your input at all, to simply just not showing up when there was a group hang out.

this raised serious concerns with your boyfriend, vinnie, as he wasn’t used to seeing you so down.

with your relationship being new, only seven months in, he wasn’t sure how to approach it.

though, having dealt with his own personal problems with his feelings, he’s learned that constantly being alone with your thoughts wasn’t the best decision. so, after giving you your alone time to process things, he decided to take matters into his own hands.

which is why he was currently walking into your apartment with a bag full of your favorite things, snacks, face masks, and a stuff animal that made him think of you when he first saw it.

he placed the bag on the counter, slowly making his way down the hall to your bedroom. knocking on the door, he turned the knob and spoke,

“babe? it’s vinnie, i don’t know if you saw my text… i wanted to come check on you.”

he squinted his eyes to try and get a better look into the dark room. he sighed softly at the sight of your figured buried beneath your comforter.

he noticed the movement from your breathing, immediately picking up that your weren’t asleep.

“how you feeling?”

“i don’t want to talk, vin.” you mumbled, praying that he would hear so that you wouldn’t have to repeat yourself.

“that’s okay.” he nodded, swallowing thickly before he sat down near you, “can i lay with you?”

you didn’t give a verbal response, only moving over a bit so he could get comfortable. you silently thanked God that your forced yourself to get out of bed and shower earlier in the morning.

vinnie pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your head as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“i want to let you know that you aren’t alone, okay? whatever is going on, i just hope you realize that i’m here for you, your friends are here for you, and i know your family is too. i know you don’t want to feel like a burden to anyone but your feelings matter. and if you aren’t okay, then you should tell someone. i’m here, i will always be here.”

his words were enough to make the tear swelling in your eyes roll down your face.

“i don’t know what’s wrong with me. i’m just so sad but i have no reason to be.” you sniffled, burying your head into his chest.

he rubbed your back softly, closing his eyes at the sound of your sniffles,

“that’s okay. we all get sad sometimes. and even if you don’t know how to describe it, or if you don’t know how to word it, it could be good to at least be with someone who has an understanding.” he felt you nod against him,

“i know that i hate not being able to see you be your usually bubbly self and i hate knowing that you’re struggling alone. i want to there to help you. i want you to burden me with your problems, you know? i want to help you when you need me most. that’s what i’m here for. you don’t deserve to suffer alone.”

“i know. i’m sorry for pushing you away.”

“you have no reason to be sorry.” he lifted your head, pressing a gentle peck to your lips, “if anything, i’m sorry for not coming over sooner.”

“you’re here now.” you tightened your hold on him, “that’s all that matters.”

taglist: @hearts4chris @timmyandsturniolo @mayhem-72 @luvsturns @knowingnothingnoel @mrsmattyb @itzdarling @julliaaaaaaaaaaaaa @dracoflaco @heartsforchrisandmatt @lily-strnlo @alliehansson @stinkytwinkwinky @mstarniolo

#sturniolo triplets #vinnie hacker x you #vinnie hacker blurb #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker imagines #vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie hacker #vinnie x reader

[1-800-c3dr1c]

Hi, I saw that you have open requests. could you write a story about Neuvilette and his partner where Neuvilette learns that the traveler told his partner that he is a dragon. but the reader had something to do, so she would leave Fontaine for a few days. on the other hand, Neuvilette would think that this is why she does not want to see him, because she has been hiding from him until now, and of course because of this there would be a hell of a storm in Fontain. i like angst but with a happy ending. Thank you I love you. 🥺👉👈

LONELINESS. neuvilette angst to fluff oneshot. female reader. <3 SPOILERS FOR THE 4.1 ARCHON QUEST. DO PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

requests are: open! please look at the pinned post for characters i will write for. <3 let me know if you’d like to be in my tag list for whenever i post anything related to neuvilette under this post as well, or in my inbox!

OH MY GOD THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REQUESTING NEUVILETTE, I LITERALLY LOVE THIS MAN AND I HOPE THAT YOU LIKE THIS!! <3

“he’s a dragon.” were most certainly not the first words you’d expected the traveler to utter when you two met after they had come back from the fortress of meropide. you had stared at them, baffled, asked them to repeat what they had told you despite not even hearing yourself speak. and they did.

“he’s a dragon.” and that’s when it clicked. your partner, the iudex of fontaine, was the hydro dragon. how had you not realized this sooner? you had caught little bits of his grief even when he never explicitly stated it, and when you did it just so happened to rain. but you didn’t want to believe it at first.

“you’re lying.” you didn’t even hear yourself contradicting them, the words just sputtered out absently, as if you had no idea what you were doing. which you didn’t.

“i’m sorry,” the traveler just shook their head, knowing they couldn’t exactly get you to see through your own fantasies of not recognizing the truth. they knew you’d come to your senses soon, but you needed to be left alone.

and left alone you had been. they had walked away, leaving you to stare after them, attempting to collect your thoughts.

your partner was the hydro dragon. it was such an unfathomable thought, but the more you thought about it, the more likely it was. and yet, time was cruel.

you could not ask him about it now, no. you had a mission outside of fontaine, and you knew you’d be gone for a few days. you had been planing to tell neuvilette this, but you had never gotten a chance. today was your last day in fontaine, and you would leave in two hours.

you knew that he would not be back in less than two hours. despite that, you waited until the very last moment for him to come home, for you to be able to tell him what you knew.

but you simply wouldn’t, or rather, couldn’t. when the time came, you simply took your bag, walked off, and didn’t look back.

neuvilette had thought differently. he had chosen to take a few days off of work after the traveler had told him they had accidentally let it slip to his partner that he was the hydro dragon. ever since then, he hadn’t even seen her. grief-stricken and thinking that she hated him with her entire being for hiding such a big secret, it was constantly raining in fontaine. people were no longer walking the streets, and fontaine was neatly flooded in itself.

the traveler had tried to calm him down, but it had been no use. he actually started crying. not just the feeling of grief, but actually tears rolled down his cheeks. hence why, he stayed in his office all day, allowing little to nobody in except for the traveler and a few select melusines.

“she hates me,” he murmured to himself, the thought having been running through his head for many days now. ever since she left, that’s all that has been on the poor iudex’s mind. “she hates me.” he repeated, finding that it may just end up being the truth, no matter how much he didn’t want to believe it.

until you had walked into his office, startled to see that his face was tear-stained. you quickly walked over to him, but he hadn’t even registered that you had walked in yet.

“neuvilette?” you whispered his name, standing right beside him. this shocked him out of his thoughts, and he turned to you.

“y/n.” he spoke your name, trying to clear his throat. “where.. did you go?” he sounded so quiet, so hurt.

“i’m sorry. i had to do something outside of fontaine, love. but i’m back now.” you told him softly.

love. that nickname instantly brightened his mood, before it dampened again. you don’t hate me, right? because.. because i’m.. the hydro dragon.” the last two words you could barely hear, but you understood.

“so that’s why it’s been raining so much. is that what you thought? oh, neuvilette.. i could never hate you.” you kissed his cheek, and he pulled you close, hiding his face in your shoulder.

“thank you. for not hating me. i love you so much.” he murmured. “so, so much.”

#genshin imagines #genshin fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin spoilers #genshin x reader #genshin angst #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin impact angst #genshin impact imagine #genshin impact neuvilette #x reader #neuvilette angst #neuvilette fluff #neuvilette genshin #neuvilette x you #neuvilette x y/n #neuvilette x reader

[cheolism]

couch comfort

✧ cheol x reader

✧ summary: maybe the bad stuff isn't so bad when you have your boyfriend, seungcheol, there to help you with the weight.

✧ wc is approx 6.3k

✧ genre: romance, fluff, humor; being in love. work sucks. little angst? reader talks of seungcheol being their first real crush/infatuation/love? seungcheol pouts a lot.

✧ note: if there is angst in here, it's very little! this fix purely exists for comfort. you make out at one point. there's another cat based off of my childhood cat. there's absolutely no plot, just kisses and cuddles and comfort. a lot of reflection abt your relationship w cheol at the beginning but it's not all like that lol. photo mentioned at the end is one of the photos at the top!!! this is not edited.

The past week, while definitely not the worst week of your life, was definitely up there. 

You sighed, leaning forward and letting your forehead rest against the wheel. Taking a deep breath, you held it for a handful of seconds before releasing it; just as your therapist suggested. Then you thought of Seungcheol and his fluffy hair.

Feeling somewhat less stressed, you grabbed your backpack from the passenger seat and made your way inside, trying your best to ignore the bitter winter air that nipped at your thighs and legs. Ignoring the cold did nothing to actually prevent it, however, and you still fumbled with your apartment keys for a good minute before you were able to select the correct key and enter. 

You dropped your bag off at the door and kicked off your shoes, and in a voice that sounded remarkably like your mother when she babytalked your niece, you called out for your cat. 

You dropped your bag off at the door and kicked off your shoes, and in a voice that sounded remarkably like your mother when she babytalked your niece, you called out for your cat. 

Stumbling away from the door and to the living room, you withdrew your phone from your pocket and slid open the new notification from Seungcheol. 

Seungcheol: it sounds like you had a rough day.  im sorry. i wish i u didn’t. if u still feel up for it, i can be at ur apartment in twenty. but if u want to stay in or b alone tonight, i understand baby 

There was a meow from below, and that was all the warning you had before your ancient tortoise shell cat was leaping onto your chest, her weight startling you for a moment. You peered at Wolfie, her lime colored eyes peering back at you. Then she meowed again, and you couldn’t help but laugh at it, as she sounded as if she had been a serious chain smoker for fifty years. 

Wolfie ignored you, crawling forward and rubbing her head underneath your chin. She began purring, a deep thing that you could only truly appreciate if you were completely silent. You held your phone up in the air to type, leaving just enough space for Wolfie to curl up on your chest. 

You: ya!!!! I actually just got home 🧡💛 Wolfie immediately curled up on me, so I’ll have to ask her about getting up to get ready. 

You then snapped a picture of Wolfie on your chest and sent it to him. Letting your phone fall to the ground beside the couch, you began running your hands over Wolfie. Once upon a time, her fur had been soft and silky; it practically shined. But age had caught up to your precious companion, and you constantly fought back the urge to cry over how tough and wiry her fur felt underneath your fingertips. 

Sighing, you closed your eyes and let your head sink completely into the pillows. You had been joking to Seungcheol about getting Wolfie’s permission to get up, but even without her added twelve pounds on your chest, you would’ve had a hard time getting up. It was as if you were Atlas, the Titan who carried the world on his back, and the weight of it was keeping you down. 

Not to be misunderstood: you didn’t hate dates with Seungcheol, and most definitely didn’t despise time spent with him. As a matter of fact, you looked forward to every Friday, knowing that not only it marked the beginning of the weekend but was also your assigned date night with Seungcheol. 

If you were honest with yourself, you looked forward to waking up every morning. It was stupid and cheesy, and if your teenage self could see you they would shake their head and roll their eyes. But whenever you opened your eyes, Wolfie’s weight resting on your chest, you immediately thought of him. He was the first person you texted in the morning, whether it be about a particular dream you had, something you saw in the news, or even the weather. You couldn’t help but want to talk to Seungcheol first thing in the morning, just as you couldn’t help but message him until you went to bed. 

If you were frank with yourself, which was asking a lot, you wanted to talk to him all the time. It was so -- 

When you were a teenager, you had looked at your friends who were proclaiming their love for their partners only within a few months of dating with considerable scorn. After all, what did sixteen and eighteen year olds know about love? You had offered a listening ear to their troubles, empathizing with their adoration for their partner, while also mentally rolling your eyes and keeping yourself occupied with your books and music. 

So you didn’t know what to do about Seungcheol. You didn’t know what to do about wanting to send him pictures of all the pretty flowers you saw; videos of Wolfie being cute and cuddly; pictures of sunsets and sunrises, of cute stuffed animals and all other pretty things that reminded you of Choi Seungcheol. 

You inhaled, held it; released. 

If you were frank with yourself, if you stood back and analyzed everything, all the emotions you felt for Seungcheol and all the things you wanted to do for him and all the things you dreamt of doing with him, it sounded like you maybe felt something more than the fluttering adoration and infatuation you had at the start of your relationship when he asked you out. 

But you didn’t want to analyze that too much. 

You groaned slightly, stretching out your legs. Wolfie let out a noise of protest before purring, her attempt at getting you to remain laying down. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” you whispered, your hand going to rest on her head. You used your thumb to pet the space between her eyes. “I want to stay cuddled up with you forever, too. But I also want to see Cheolie.”

She adjusted herself on your chest, purring on. You did want to stay there in the dark with Wolfie, just as you had done during your early college days. Many evenings were spent like that, the two of you in your own space. More often than not, you felt like the world was on your shoulders -- just like Atlas -- and it was Wolfie’s own needs and wants that dragged you out of bed. 

The past week had you debating on canceling with Seungcheol. Nothing major had happened, of course, but instead a bunch of small incidents and interactions that left bad tastes in your mouth had piled up. Just as a bunch of small pebbles pile up to build a mountain, these small things had piled to the point where you just wanted to turn away from the world. 

But you couldn’t. You didn’t want to, more importantly. You didn’t want this past week, no matter how bad it might have been, to impede on your time with Seungcheol. You didn’t want to give up your time with him, not when it was -- not when he was -- so precious to you.

You settled an arm around Wolfie and slowly began to rise; she let out a few squeaks of protest. When Wolfie realized you weren’t going to stop, she huffed and wiggled out of your grasp. Tail high in the air, she walked over your legs to get to the arm rest opposite of you. She climbed on top of it and sat rather primly, looking at you with wide eyes. 

“Are you my pretty little lady,” you asked, voice sweet. You shifted to reach out and pet her. “My pretty baby.”

Wolfie allowed you to pet her for a handful of seconds before she sharply twisted her head towards the front door. She sat, waiting, until there was a series of sharp knocks. Wolfie began growling deep in her throat, hackles raising. 

“Y/n!” A deep voice called out, knocking stopping. 

You cursed, springing up from the couch. You grabbed the hem of your sweatshirt and pulled it away from you, swatting at the cat hairs that had decided to take up room and board on your shirt. “Coming!”

Wolfie ran beside you as you made your way to the door, her tail raised straight in the air. She jumped on the little tree you had next to the door, letting out a croaky yowl when you weren’t fast enough to open it. 

“Sorry, Wolfie, sorry --” You fumbled with the lock for a moment before successfully unclicking it. You wrenched open the door, a large, nearly comically so, smile already on your face. “Seungcheol!” 

He was grinning back at you, eyes twinkling. Seungcheol was dressed in all black, from his heavy winter coat that was a size too big to his pants and boots. The beanie he wore was the only spot of color on him, it being a vibrant orange. 

As always, despite his humble outfit, he was handsome and beautiful. 

Something shifted inside of you. It was as if you had done the breathing exercise your therapist had suggested, but instead of lifting only a few pebbles off your shoulders it relieved you of half a mountain’s worth of weight. 

You stepped back, letting him come into your apartment enough to shut the door behind him. Wolfie hopped off of her cat tree and went to him, winding herself around her legs. You went to follow suit, arms reaching out to him, but he stopped you. 

Subconsciously your lips began to pout at his refusal. Seungcheol laughed, his hands going to his zipper. “Let me take off my coat before you hug me. It’s cold outside.”

“I don’t care about it being cold,” you mumbled, but did as he said. 

As soon as he had his coat unzipped, Seungcheol reached out for you. He opened his coat just enough so you wouldn’t be touching the cold outer layer, his hands guiding you to rest against him. 

He was warm; that was your first thought. 

His arms surrounded you, pulling you close enough to where your nose was smashed against his chest. Not that you minded. Your arms slipped around him in turn, sliding underneath his coat and taking hold of the back of his hoodie. One of his hands went to the back of your head, fingertips sinking in your hair, and he guided you to rest your cheek against him. 

Your eyes slipped shut of their own will. Humming, you nuzzled into him, breathing him in. Before Seungcheol, you never really gave much thought into what men smelled like; all you knew was they either smelled good or bad. But Seungcheol?

He smelled like -- well, like Choi Seungcheol. You knew he used expensive cologne, that he used fabric softeners and used the same body wash and lotion so the fragrance would be amplified. Your first impression of him had been that he smelled expensive, and even now, three months into your relationship, you couldn’t help but associate him with luxury. 

But now? 

He smelled like home. 

That was your second thought. 

“I’m sorry you had a bad day.” His face was pressed into your hair, just as yours was his chest, and you wondered if he was breathing you in, as you were him. The hand that was in your hair began to fumble with the strands before settling, his palm heavy on your head. He began petting you, as if you were a cat or a dog, but instead of feeling indignant you felt extremely at ease. 

“It’s fine.” 

He hummed, the sound coming deep from within him. You felt his chest vibrate against your face. “It’s not fine. I don’t like it when you’re suffering.”

You grinned, squeezing him. “I’m not suffering, Seungcheol. Just. Had a bad week. Besides,” you pulled away slightly, just enough to peer up at him with your little grin. “Somehow it doesn’t feel all that bad anymore.”

Seungcheol laughed, hands moving to your face. He pinched at your cheeks, not hard enough to hurt, before cupping them in his hands. His dark eyes were soft and sparkling as they looked at you, and you knew that no one suited brown eyes as well as he. They were warm and inviting, gentle and soft; perfect reflections of his soul. 

He didn’t speak. He licked his lips and your eyes obediently went to his mouth. Seungcheol chuckled again, his hands tilting your face up. Expectant, your eyes slipped shut. 

You waited for a second. Then another. Then a few more, and your eyes were opening in confusion. He was still watching you, smiling wide enough that his gums showed. 

“Seungcheol!” You whined, brow furrowing.

He giggled, a boyish thing that seemed so at odds with his masculine build and voice. But it was him. 

Seungcheol swooped down, his lips finally connecting with yours. You sighed at the contact, melting against him. The two of you exchanged chaste kisses back and forth, neither in a rush. It was as if your entire week had been hurtling towards this, towards you in his arms, his lips on yours, something settling in your heart that seemed a little too much to just be infatuation. 

He pressed one final kiss to your mouth before straying, his lips ghosting over your cheek. They traveled about your face, his breath warm as it hit your skin. He pressed quick kisses to the apple of your cheek, the space between your brows, your temple; you hummed, satisfaction and safety seeping into your bones and soul, and he pressed a kiss to each of your eyes. 

Seungcheol’s mouth returned to yours, and when he pressed another kiss to your mouth, firm like how someone would kiss a lover long gone, you couldn’t help but beam. 

His own lips twisted into a smile in response. Your teeth clacked against his, both of you grinning into each other’s mouths. 

“Sorry for teasing you, baby.” He pulled away from you, hands squeezing your cheeks before he released you. You wanted to stick yourself back into his arms, but held back. “You’re just so damn cute.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes in faux annoyance. You couldn’t fight the smile that was still on your face, though. “Whatever.”

“What --” Seungcheol stopped pulling off his coat for a moment to stare at you, eyes narrowing, as if you had done something sacrilegious. “Did you just say whatever to me saying you’re cute?”

He still had that appalled look on his face. You shifted back onto your heels, watching as he slowly continued pulling off his coat. You wondered if he was teasing you. “I mean. Thanks?”

“You are cute,” he declared, voice stern with authority. You couldn’t help the look of disbelief that appeared on your face. Seungcheol sighed, as if your skepticism was disappointing. He got one arm out of his coat. “You are. I don’t know who I have to punch to convince you --”

“Violence isn’t the answer to everything,” You chided. You finally left the entryway, moving to your kitchen. “I’ll get some hot chocolate ready for you, Seungcheol!”

He gave an affirmative noise in return. You pulled out your milk and went about heating it up. As it heated, you pulled out two mugs from the dishwasher, which was so full of dishes that had been shoved in that you had to wiggle the mugs back and forth to get them out. 

You felt his presence behind you, and you felt embarrassment slowly creep its way up your neck and settle on your face. Standing, you refused to look him directly in the face. “I uh. Didn’t have the energy to really do dishes that much this week.”

Arms were wrapping around your waist, Seungcheol plastering himself to your back. You put the cocoa powder in the glasses. He slouched against you, his head tilted against yours, watching. He was warm, always warm. One of his arms moved to sling around your waist, the other across your chest. 

You removed the milk from the microwave, pouring it evenly in the two mugs. Seungcheol shuffled with you as you shifted, grabbing the mini-marshmallows from the cupboard. Without much thought you distributed them before leaving the package on the counter. 

“They’re not even.”

“Hm?”

Seungcheol sighed against your ear, as if whatever he had seen was greatly burdening him. “The marshmallows. There’s not an even amount in both mugs.”

“Oh.” You looked down, eyeing both the mugs. “You can have the one with more of them, then.”

Clicking his tongue, Seungcheol reached around you for the package. “You deserve to have the same amount of marshmallows as I do, baby.”

Feeling slightly as if this wasn’t just about marshmallows, you watched as Seungcheol’s fingers carefully counted out five more marshmallows and put them into the left mug. Before he could settle his hand back on your waist, you grabbed it. 

You slid your hand on top of his, observing. His fingers were larger than yours, both in length and width. Seungcheol was pale, remarkably so, and his fingers were no different. Your fingers slid against his hand, feeling the little hairs on his knuckles and the ring on his forefinger. Your other hand joined your first in your navigation of his hand, smoothing over his fingernails -- which he kept trimmed and maintained, more than you -- feeling the sharpness of them in contrast to the soft pads of his fingers. 

Seungcheol wiggled his fingers, and you felt a little giggle escape you as you wrapped your hands around three of his fingers, squeezing. He pressed himself further into you, and you felt every inch of him against you. 

“Seungcheol --”

He pulled away, pressing a kiss to your ear. You peered over your shoulder at him, tilting your head. Seungcheol looked at you for a moment before smiling that gummy grin of his, his hands going to hold your head and bring it so he could press a kiss to your temple. 

“Why are you so fucking cute,” he said, each word separated by a kiss to your forehead. 

Seungcheol released you, picking up both mugs. You followed him into the living room, where he immediately went to the couch. Wolfie hopped onto the coffee table in front of it, sniffing both mugs. Seungcheol went to shoo her away but you stopped him, folding yourself into the couch next to him. 

“She doesn’t drink it,” you said. You reached to the ground and pulled a blanket off of it, settling the blanket over your legs. “The only people food she likes is salami. The real kind, you know? Or she likes licking bowls after I eat Captain Crunch.”

Seungcheol laughed, and like always whenever you heard the sound, you giggled along with him. He shifted further into the couch, moving his feet to prop them up on the coffee table. He pulled the blanket off of you, shooting a look at you when you protested. Seungcheol grabbed your calves, guiding your legs to drape over his thighs. He then adjusted the blanket over the both of you, tucking both of you in. 

“She’s a good girl,” Seungcheol agreed, reaching out. Wolfie took the hint and jumped onto your legs, climbing fervently up to his hand so he could pet her. He chuckled, obliging. “She’s awfully needy.”

He shot you a look, coy. “Just like someone else I know.”

You puffed out your cheeks, shooting him a glare. “You’re just as needy as I am, Mr. Choi Seungcheol!”

He gasped, openly insulted. “What did I say about calling me by my full name?”

You wiggled, reaching out and tugging one of his curls. “Well, when you start accusing someone it makes them do horrible things, Mr. Seungcheol. Like using full names.”

“Oh, does it?” He grinned. With one hand still petting Wolfie, he used the other hand to reach out and ruffle your hair. You let out an indignant squawk, waving your hand around to try and get him to stop. “Does it, then? Call me Choi Seungcheol again and see what happens!”

“Okay,” you laughed. “Choi Seungcheol, Choi Seungcheol, Choi Seungcheol.”

His mouth dropped, affronted. Seungcheol then huffed, moving his arm off of you and turning his face. “Fine. You’re lucky Wolfie is on your legs, otherwise I’d push you off.”

You laughed at his sulking, thoroughly endeared. You shifted forward, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. You tried to bring him down to you in order to kiss him, but Seungcheol resisted, straining against you. “Hey! I’m trying to make it better, Seungcheol!” 

“Nope!” He said, shaking his head. His curls bounced with every movement, and you couldn’t help but smile in adoration. “No making it better, F/n L/n. You’ve done it.”

“Oooh,” you cooed, “I’ve done it, have I?”

He nodded, pushing his lips out in an exaggerated pout. “Yep. You’ve done it.”

“What have I done?”

“Agitated me.”

You laughed, a loud thing that startled Wolfie from your lap. She jumped off of the couch, her feet hitting the hardwood with a little thump! 

“I’ve agitated you!” You echoed in between laughs. You fell back against the couch, head hitting the armrest at an awkward angle, no longer able to support yourself. When you peeked back at Seungcheol, he was raising his thick eyebrows at you, which set you off giggling again. 

He moved your legs off of his thighs, moving around them and guiding them to rest on the couch. You watched, your smile so big it was starting to hurt your cheeks, as he descended upon you. He placed his knees on either side of your thighs, setting his weight against them. Seungcheol bent over you, his eyes sparkling with something dangerous, one eyebrow lifted. 

“Now you’ve really done it,” he murmured, voice deep. It sent something coursing through you, something that ate away at the mirth and sent heat shooting through your heart and settling deep. Seungcheol leaned over you, one hand bracing against the armrest and the other guiding your head in a more comfortable position. 

“I’ve really done it,” you echoed, dumbly. 

“I’m sure you can make it up to me,” he said, absentmindedly. His fingers traced over your ear, nail scraping lightly; your eyes fluttered as they continued to glide over your skin, moving to your jaw. You felt two of his fingers prod at your lower lip before continuing, pulling at it slightly before moving to ghost over your chin. 

You hummed, tongue reaching out to wet your lips. “I can.”

He lowered himself against you. He braced both hands on either side of your head, and your eyes slid shut as his face neared. 

Then your phone began to buzz. 

Your eyes flew open, staring into his. He was so close. He let out a huff of breath. The two of you waited for a second, and you knew he was trying to will the noise away just as much as you, but to no avail. 

You tapped his thighs, and Seungcheol let out a deep sigh. He began raising himself off of you, and you couldn’t help but give his thighs a squeeze. 

Seungcheol went to the other end of the couch as you hung your front half off of it, searching the ground for where your phone had fallen earlier. Once you got it, you wiggled frantically back onto the couch. You moved to press against Seungcheol, your thighs molding into one another, elbows knocking. 

Your mood, which had been repaired by Seungcheol, began to dampen as soon as you saw the contact name of the person who had messaged you. Your weariness must have appeared on your face, as Seungcheol was immediately responding. He swung his arm around your shoulders and brought you closer, leaning his head against yours. 

“What’s wrong, baby?”

Humming, you softly shook your head so as to not hurt his. “Just texts from my manager.”

You didn’t move to open the messages. It was like you were Atlas again. The weight returned, no matter how many pebbles and rocks Seungcheol had brushed off of your shoulders.

Seungcheol let out a little sigh. He wiggled about, turning onto his side to face you. He leaned forward and tucked his face into your neck, warm breath hitting your skin. Seungcheol laid his other arm over your stomach, hand gently squeezing at your lovehandle. 

“You don’t have to answer it,” he murmured. You could feel his lips move against your skin. “You’re not in a manager position, and you’ve clocked out. It can wait.”

When you shook your head in answer, he sighed again. Seungcheol pressed a kiss to your neck, and a part of you couldn’t help but feel foolish at how your heart jumped and the corners of your lips twitched up into a little smile. 

Unlocking your phone, you hurriedly tapped on your manager’s messages. Immediately you were met with five separate chat bubbles, all as unwelcome as the one before it. manager: so what was this I heard about you leaving early yesterday? 

manager: I know you see other people leaving early, but that’s not something I encourage. It’s not something you should encourage, either. 

manager: We rely on you to set an example to the others. 

manager: You’re scheduled for a certain time, and you should be fulfilling that time. 

manager: If this happens again I’ll have to look into shortening your hours.

Your mouth fell open with an audible noise, a small breath of air leaving you as you read over your manager’s messages. Seungcheol made an inquiring sound and you tilted your phone towards him so he could read the texts. 

“What the fuck,” he muttered. “What the fuck. Who the fuck cares? Who the fuck -- so what you left early?”

“It was by ten minutes,” you softly said, sending out a quick affirmative to your manager to let them know you at least read the messages. “I was just. Tired, you know?”

Seungcheol straightened next to you, angling his head to read the texts again. His thick brows were narrowed, plump lips twisted into an irritable frown. “What the fuck. Ten minutes? This is over ten fucking minutes?”

“It’s just --” You broke off, fumbling with your phone for a moment. “It’s not like I do it all the time.”

“No, it’s not!” Seungcheol’s eyes were practically blazing as he looked at you, his grip on you tightening. He was fully irritated, gaze sharp and mouth firm. The urge to smile struck you for a split moment, your heart whispering with glee that he was angry over you; he was angry because of someone mistreating you. 

“It’s fucking ridiculous,” Seungcheol announced. His fingers dug into your shirt. “You’re a model employee. You never call in, never leave early or without doing your shit. Who the fuck are they to -- to text you like that?”

“My manager, Cheolie,” you reminded him. 

He scoffed, his hand leaving your body to push his curls away from his face. “Your manager -- fuck them, fuck! You’re a good person, a good employee. You’re an amazing person and if you want to leave ten minutes early, then you should! Fuck them!”

You were grinning now, your heart practically singing. It was nothing, you supposed. It wasn’t anything to get excited about, but there was something magnificent in seeing someone get angry over how others were treating you. It was wonderful to see another person so invested in your well-being and happiness, and it made your heart feel light. 

It was like he had taken the boulder on your back -- the world on Atlas’s -- and smashed it between his two hands, his anger blazing bright enough to blaze through rock.

Seungcheol’s eyes met yours, and immediately his look softened. He sighed, though his lips were beginning to curve in his sweet smile. He tucked his face back into your neck, pressing another kiss underneath your ear. “Don’t look at me like that when I’m being righteously angry on your behalf.”

You laughed, throwing your head back. “‘Righteously angry?’”

He giggled, burying his face into your skin. He kissed you again there, before Seungcheol was removing his head. Seungcheol peered up at you, and you couldn’t help but admire him. His dark curls, how they brushed against his sweet, wide eyes; his eyelashes, those ridiculously long and dark lashes that made him look ridiculously endearing. 

Fuck, how you wanted him. 

“You know,” he began, lips in a coy smile. “You haven’t really given me a kiss hello.”

You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth, raising your brows. “The audacity -- I have! Do you not remember us at the door?”

He hummed, shaking his head. His curls bounced. “Nope! I distinctly recall that whole ordeal being led by me.”

“Oh, was it?”

“Yep.”

You laughed, turning to face him. You switched your phone to your left hand, and with your right you reached up and cupped his cheek. His skin was soft and smooth, and you couldn’t help but stroke his cheekbone. You then pressed your hand to his jaw. “Well, I better correct that then.”

You pressed your lips against his, three quick kisses in succession. 

“Hm,” Seungcheol said. “I don’t know if that’s really enough to make up for it.”

“It’s not?” Then you pressed three more kisses. “How is that, sweetheart?”

Seungcheol shrugged. One of his hands settled on your waist, the other going to tuck your hair behind your ear. He traced his thumb over the shell of your ear before settling his hand right below it, on the hinge of your jaw. “Better, but not really satisfying, you know?”

“Not satisfying?” You asked, voice pitching high with amusement. His brown eyes were soft and twinkling, almost as if his soul was beckoning you closer, closer, to come closer and fall into his. You rose to your knees, letting your phone drop between the two of you. “I’ll just have to remedy that real quick.”

“I can tell you if it’s gonna be a quick one it won’t be real satisfying,” he chimed. 

You rolled your eyes, lowering your face. His eyes were already on your lips, his tongue peeking out. “You don’t have to worry about it being satisfying.”

Then you were upon him. Your hands on his face, angling his head up and towards you. You pressed a kiss to his upper lip, chaste and sweet, before tilting your head. Like a wave intent on devouring, you moved your mouth onto his. 

For a moment, Seungcheol let you work your mouth against his. Your kisses were wet and warm, and he was an obedient servant to the mastery your mouth had over him. Your hands sunk into his hair, nails scraping, fingers tugging. He was pliant beneath you, and you kissed him with the unhurried ease that all devote lovers practiced. 

Then, rather impishly, you took his bottom lip between your teeth. He let out a breathy moan at it, and for a moment you couldn’t help but grin. 

Pulling back, you tried to fight the surge of pride you felt as he surged after you. You subconsciously set a hand against his thick neck in an attempt to stop him from following, but Seungcheol paid no mind. Indeed, you couldn’t help the shiver of excitement that ran through you as he continued to push, his eyes dark with intent, nevermind the feeling of your hand pushing against him. 

“Why did you stop, baby,” Seungcheol murmured. His voice was dark and deep, matching his eyes, and fuck, if you weren’t ready to lay on the couch and let him have his way. 

“Our hot chocolate,” you replied, heart beating so quickly it was as if a hummingbird had somehow made its home within you, “it’s cold.”

“If it’s cold now, it’ll be cold when we’re done.”

You laughed, then. You threw out your arms and wrapped him in them, bringing Seungcheol flush against you. He went easily, and you pressed kiss after kiss to his face, hands messing with his hair. 

“If I had known,” you said, still giggling as you pressed a final kiss underneath his chin, “before we started dating how absolute insatiable and ridiculous you are, I wouldn’t have believed it. You really had me fooled, Seungcheol.”

He chuckled, moving his arms around you. Seungcheol pressed you into him, just as you had him. “I swear, everytime you call me ‘Seungcheol’ I lose another year of my life. Next you’ll be telling me that’s my name in your phone.”

You went still against him. 

Immediately Seungcheol pulled away from you. He looked at you, scrutinizing. Then, voice severe, “Unlock your phone for me.”

That set you off laughing again. Seungcheol laid you onto the couch before searching the area for your phone. He was presenting it to you in a matter of seconds, holding it out in front of you. “Unlock it.”

“You know the passcode,” you giggled. 

“No I don’t --”

You shot him a meaningful look. Then his eyes widened, and he tapped in the date of your first date. He had a satisfied look on his face when your phone unlocked, a little smirk at the corner of his mouth. You watched as he glanced around your phone. You let out a soft sigh, extending your legs and settling them on either side of Seungcheol. 

“What.” He blinked, then blinked again. “Seungcheol. You have my full first name? Not even a heart, not a flower or something cute, no -- there’s not even a smiley face!”

You were grinning. He huffed, shoulders rising. His brows furrowed and his lips went into a full pout. “Hey. Baby, this isn’t okay!”

“I didn’t realize it was just a crime,” you said. 

He glanced over at you. As soon as Seungcheol saw you were grinning and realized the depth of your insincerity, he was sticking his hand into the pocket of his sweatpants and withdrew his phone. 

“Look,” he said, flashing you his phone screen. 

He had a picture of you from your first date as your contact photo. You were smiling, brightly and unabashedly. It was almost goofy looking, how happy you looked in that picture. 

Your name in his phone was just as sweet, and you wondered if you needed to schedule a dentist appointment first thing Monday morning from the cavities that were surely forming. 

My Baby 💖🔥

“Aw,” you said, “that’s so cute.”

His jaw dropped. “Cute -- yes, it is cute! Meanwhile you just have my full fucking government name --” “Cheolie, sweetheart, it isn’t that serious --”

He glared at you, before shoving your phone towards you. “Change it. Right now.”

“Doesn’t that ruin --”

“Don’t make me repeat what I said,” Seungcheol warned. He stood, and your eyes immediately fell to his ass. Not in a perverted way of course, but because it was art and it would be a dishonor to not observe and appreciate art. 

“I’ll be back,” he said, “and when I return you better have something so fucking cute it’ll make me cry.”

Rolling your eyes, you went about your business. You already had a cute picture of him -- one taken when he had fallen asleep behind you -- as his profile picture, so you hurriedly began typing out a name for him. 

It really wasn’t a big deal to you, and you knew it really wasn’t that big of a deal to Seungcheol either. He’s seen your contact list. Everyone had their first and last names in it, save for your family members. There were no emojis, no cute names. 

Truly, you thought, Seungcheol should consider himself privileged. 

When he returned, he had Wolfie in his arms. Her eyes were shut, and she was completely dwarfed by his bulk and the added fluff that his oversized hoodie gave him. She was perfectly content, however, and when he sat down next to you all Wolfie did was shift in his arms to further mold into his chest. 

“So?”

You smiled, holding your phone against your chest. “I don’t know, sharing the contact name of your beloved is sort of a private thing.”

He shot you a glare. 

Giggling, you held out your phone for him. 

🌸💘 My Seungcheol 💘🌸

“Is it appropriately cute?”

He hummed, tilting his head. “What are the flowers?”

“Your lips,” you said matter-of-factly. “Your lips remind me of pink blossoms.”

Shocked, Seungcheol flickered his eyes up to yours. His eyes, always rife with emotion, were round from the revelation. His lips -- his blossom pink lips -- parted, and like a magnet your eyes were on them. 

“Those are some dangerous words, baby.”

You shrugged, settling back against the couch. “Too bad you have Wolfie on you.”

He looked down at the cat, eyes narrowed. You could practically hear him cussing her out. Then he sighed, settling one of his hands on her back. Wolfie arched into it, and in the silence you could hear her beginning to purr. 

Seungcheol moved to rest against you, the two of you practically molding into one. You leaned against him, head on his shoulder, hand moving to join his in petting Wolfie. For a moment the two of you were quiet, enjoying one another, safe in the knowledge of the infatuation, adoration, yearning, the -- the love that the two of you shared, safe in the knowledge that it existed and thrived. Knowing that no matter the weight on the back, the other would be there to help brush off pebbles and destroy the rubble.

You moved your head, pressing a kiss against his shoulder. He hummed, and as you pulled back he swept down to press a sweet kiss to your lips.

“You know,” he said, after the two of you settled back in your spots. “I saw the prettiest flower today while walking through the store. I took a picture of it because it reminded me of you.”

#!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #if you can tell me the character the cat is based off of you get a cookie #svt #seventeen #s.coups #scoups #svt scoups #svt s.coups #seungcheol #svt seungcheol #choi seungcheol #svt choi seungcheol #idk who's typing all that but n y way s #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #scoups x reader #s.coups x reader #svt fic #seventeen fic #svt scenario #seventeen scenario #scoups fix #s.coups fix #my writing