#anyways the idea behind the faces is the front face is the surface. it displays whatever emotions celestia intends when she's in control.

[bixels]

Posting a sneak-peak of this now because I'm about to be In The Shit school workload-wise, so this'll take me a while to finish.

Doing some character design exploration/expression sheets for Celestia and Luna. Figuring out Celestia's weird ass anatomy while I'm at it.

#mlp #celestia #fanart #my art #wip #the grand galloping 20s #delete later #look at me fucking smart guy signed up for 4 art classes in one quarter #so now i have 4 concurrent art/film/creative writing projects going on at the same fucking time #taking bets on how fast i burn out #anyways the idea behind the faces is the front face is the surface. it displays whatever emotions celestia intends when she's in control. #the two side faces––sadness and anger––are sides of her she has less control over. i drew all 3 faces active for the exploration #but in reality only 1 is active at a time. the others will either close their eyes or go catatonic like a puppet or doll #the final face on the back of the head is the deep subconscious. every ugly and violent and hateful thought and emotion #that lies buried under the surface. celestia has no control over that side of her. if she ever wakes

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Heyy!! I absolutely ✨LOVE✨ your work I've basically been stalking your blog😅. But anyway I was wondering if you could please, please do Nozel, Fuegoleon,and William where their s/o (preferably f!) yells or very calmly (your choice, does not matter which or how) says their full name in front of family/friends/squad (again your choice could be all, depends on you) and their reaction to it. I completely understand if you don't want to do it or it takes you a while to get to it thank you for your work regardless! I wish you well!! ❤❤❤

Hiya! I am overjoyed that you like my fics!!! And though I took my sweet time with this, I hope that you still enjoy it <3

Pairings: Nozel x f!reader, Fuegoleon x f!reader, William x f!reader Fanfic type: Headcanons Genre: hurt-comfort?, and some giggles ?? Total length: ~2k (about 650 words each) Contains: misunderstandings, reader raising her voice to the guys/displays anger to them, they make up in the end ('cause it was a misunderstanding), hurt-comfort, so fluffy ends

Nozel

You had a favourite pen. The kind in which you could change the ink cartilage, and thus keep using the pen for years and years. Though the ink dispensing mechanism had broken some years ago, you held onto the pen itself for sentimental value.

And it was always in a specific drawer in your room.

However, one day when you opened the drawer, the pen case nor the pen were there.

You scrambled through the drawer, first thinking to yourself that it must’ve just been pushed back, but after scouring through the drawer, the box, nor the pen, didn’t surface.

Your mind jumped to the idea of a servant having taken it, but quickly realized that it didn’t make sense. They didn’t go through drawers such as this one. ‘Such as this one’ because they obviously folded your clothes and put them into your clothing drawers. But this one was of no importance to the servants. And even if they had, for any reason, chosen to go through other drawers in the room, the pen case was among the least likely things to take.

Which meant that there was only one other person, who could’ve likely taken it. Your husband.

He was currently with the rest of the Eagles at the squad’s training grounds, and though he was occupied, you wanted to, needed to know now why he had discarded your favourite pen. Yes, sure, it was broken, but there was no harm in holding onto such a small item. You had space!

So, you stomped through the corridors to the training grounds, and spotted him some distance away, looking at his knights. Seeming somewhat uninterested. Or just held his poker face.

This was where he held his poker face. Looked as if nothing had happened.

And it spiked a kind of annoyance, anger even, in you, which made you yell out to him: “Nozel Evander Silva!”

He turned to look.

Other knights turned to look.

The trainings halted for a moment, and everyone just looked at you, glaring at Nozel.

He looked to the knights standing next to him, and said something, before walking towards you, as you crossed your arms and waited for him to get to you. And as he did, he looked at you, with concern on his face, hidden behind the mask of the squad captain.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, the syllables revealing more of his feelings than the expression that quivered, trying to upkeep the facade of a strong, unfaltering squad captain.

“Where. Is. My. Pen?” You asked, feeling the annoyance, almost anger, bubbling to the surface. “You know how much it means to me!” You said with a grave tone, without raising your voice, so that the knights wouldn’t hear. There was no need for them to know such details of your personal life.

His eyes closed in a slow blink, and a sigh escaped his lips. “I was hoping to surprise you,” he said with a hint of melancholy.

You frowned, not sure what, exactly, he meant by it.

“I thought to get it fixed, so that you might use it again, instead of just having it sit in that drawer,” he admitted.

And you... felt a wide variety of emotions. Affection, joy, but also guilt, guilt for having thought that he would have discarded it.

So, you took a step forward, and wrapped your arms around his middle.

He tensed in your embrace, and you could feel the ever so slight movement of his head to look back towards his knights. The look over his shoulder due to the public display of affection.

But he didn’t push away.

And you did let go, after a brief moment. You just needed him to know that he was important to you, and you appreciated the gesture he did for you.

Fuegoleon

Fuegoleon has asked you to find his calendar for him, so that me might go straight from the training session with his knights to the meeting at the castle.

And you happily obliged with the request. After all, you did want to help him with his duties and make his life easier, just like he did for you.

So, you entered his office, and begun looking for the calendar. It wasn’t on the desk, not on first glance at least, so it must’ve been in the desk drawer. Or that seemed like the most likely conclusion to make, which is why you made your way to his desk, circling onto the side of his chair.

Your hands moved to the drawers, but... as your gaze became directed down, you noticed your name on a piece of paper, which made your curiosity pique. After all, because your name was on it, it must’ve concerned you, right? So, it was alright if you looked at what it said on that piece of paper. Right?

You slid the paper along the surface of the desk closer to you, and started skimming it through. But... as you did, and your eyes landed on the line of “...will not be ordered on another mission” anger bubbled inside of you.

What did he mean you weren’t going to be assigned another mission?! Did he not think that you could handle it?!

You clenched the paper in your hand and stormed out of the room with one intention, and one intention only: to find your husband and demand an explanation.

Luckily, you knew exactly where to find him, so you made your way to the training grounds, and locked eyes on him as soon as you were outside.

You walked up to him, as his knights slowly, while trying not to seem like they were looking, looked at you. After all, perhaps there was a need to pause the training, because the captain was overseeing it, after all.

“Fuegoleon. Alexander. Vermillion,” you spoke in a calm manner, but enunciated every name, every syllable, while looking straight in the eye.

You could see his eyes flicker, but he continued to look at you. “Yes?” There was hesitance in his tone, as if puzzled what was the cause of all this.

“What did you do?” You asked, with an equally cold tone as before.

“I... really couldn’t tell you,” he replied with a frown and an uncertain, confused tone as he continued to look at you.

“Mhm,” you hummed with a quirked eyebrow.

“Could we perhaps go to the side to discuss this through?” He suggested, to which you agreed with a nod. There wasn’t, really, a reason to make this into a public spectacle after all, and, he did deserve a chance to explain. He was a reasonable man. After all. It seemed. You had supposed him to be one.

But even before you had stopped on your way to the sidelines, you looked at him while holding that paper forward.

“What does this mean?!” You demanded to know. “Do you not trust me on missions? Is that why you wouldn’t assign me on one anymore?”

He blinked. Looked at the paper. And then back to you.

Then his lips became laced with... hints of amusement, and an apology. “My love... you’re more than welcome to partake on missions in the future. The formulation of ‘will not be ordered’ is simply a technicality to give you more freedom of choosing your missions,” he explained. “Of course the difficulty level of your missions would be expected to only grow, but this is more to give you, on paper, a say as to which mission you will embark on, if there are multiple ones of similar difficulty level active simultaneously.” He pointed to another line on the bottom of the page. “See?” There was another apology in his tone.

“Oh.” You uttered, looking at the line.

“But I do apologise,” he continued. “I should have discussed it with you, instead of having you find out this way.”

“You should,” you said, while looking down to the side. “But... I also... shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions... I know you well enough,” you continued, because, it really would have been out of place for him to just make such a decision as to pull you away from missions entirely all on his own.

“Truce?” He asked, looking at you with a gentle gaze that bore all his affection and devotion to you.

“Truce,” you agreed while feeling warmth on your cheeks.

It had been a simple misunderstanding, and miscommunication. But. It wouldn’t come in between of the two of you.

William

William’s office had been so barren before you had entered his life. Which is why the first thing you got for him, was a plant into his office.

He was a little bit confused about it, but didn’t turn down the gift. And as you explained that it’d make the air in his office better, by producing more oxygen, and would add some life and colour in there, he nodded in understanding.

And he begun taking good care of it. Watered it regularly, changed its soil and gave it nutrients if there was a need. Which really warmed your heart, because ... in a weird way, it was like he was tending to your relationship through the plant.

However, one morning when you entered his office. The plant wasn’t there. Which you thought was odd. So, you looked around the office, and the bedroom, but... it didn’t seem to be... anywhere?

Your mind begun circling with all kinds of possibilities, until... it landed on the plant having died and him having thrown it away. And that made you feel hurt. Sad. Angry.

You had looked at him tend to the plant so carefully, and now he had just thrown it away? You would’ve helped him take care of it, if he had only asked, but instead he has just... disposed of it.

So... he would hear about it. Oh, he would most certainly hear about it.

You walked out of the room with a mission to find him, which is why you begun circling around the base. You looked at every, single, possible room in which you thought he could be, until you spotted him from the window while talking to his knights.

Your hand grasped onto the handle of the window, and you opened it with a swift motion.

“William Thaddeus Vangeance!” You yelled, making him look at you. “Don’t. Move. One. Inch! I need to have a word with you!”

And you closed the window before racing down and outside, where he was still standing, and his knights were... still there? This didn’t really concern them, and it looked like they intuitively realized it as you marched over to William.

“Where is the plant?” You asked, looking straight at him.

He frowned, and his eyes flickered to his knights, to whom he said as a side note: “You’re dismissed,” to which the knights nodded and begun walking away.

“Where is the plant?” You repeated.

He frowned again, as if to connect the dots.

And then it dawned on him.

“Oh, the plant is on the balcony to get a little bit more sunlight,” he replied with a baffled look.

You blinked.

And looked at him.

“It looked a little down so... I thought that some more sun would do it good?” He said, sounding a little but uncertain.

“So... you didn’t .. throw it away,” you uttered out loud, without really meaning to.

“No..?” He said with a questioning frown. “Why would I throw it away?”

“No reason,” you said while cupping his face.

And he continued to give you a baffled look as you placed a kiss onto his cheek.

He really was tending to it. The plant, and your relationship

#black clover fanfiction #black clover headcanons #black clover x reader #fuegoleon vermillion x reader #fuegoleon x reader #nozel silva x reader #nozel x reader #william x reader #william vangeance x reader #fuegoleon vermillion #nozel silva #william vangeance

[bmodiwrites]

Part 5 is finally here, y'all! I think this little series needs one more part, then Steve's Little Green Shorts will be done! Catch up on the previous parts here (part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4) & read @infinite-orangepeel's original idea here. That little blurb started it all! There's adult stuff pretty much from the beginning, so it's under the cut. Minors, you know the way out!

It’s shockingly overwhelming to all the sudden get exactly what he wants.

Eddie ponders that thought as Steve hightails it out of the school’s parking lot. The look of determination and focus on Steve’s face is both adorable and thought provoking. Eddie isn’t cool enough to exist in any of the crowds that talk about popular kid gossip. Most of Eddie’s friends avoid all of those assholes like the  plague – self-preservation is a much stronger instinct than curiosity, after all.

He’s not up on the current news enough to understand this new Steve Harrington that’s sitting beside him.

Luckily, Eddie is positive he doesn’t have to know the reasons behind Steve’s actions to enjoy them. Especially now that he knows there’s much more fun to come.

It’s hard to resist the call to touch now that the dams been broken on Eddie’s tight seal of control. His fingers find the inseam of Steve’s jeans without much thought. They linger there, brushing up and then back down, up and then back down, for the rest of the drive. Eddie can’t decide if it’s a distraction for him or Steve… or maybe them both. With so many amazing things happening at once, Eddie needs a little grounding.

It's a total coincidence, then, that the warmth of Steve’s inner thigh is absolutely perfect for that sort of thing.

After getting settled, it feels like no time at all has past when they pull into Steve’s driveway. They’re in the richer part of Hawkins that Eddie doesn’t recognize at first glance, so he pushes those details aside. He’ll need Steve’s help to get home regardless of whether he knows where the hell they are, anyway.

Instead of lingering on that helplessness, Eddie turns his attention to the yummy swing of Steve’s ass in the shorts that started it all.

This pair is a little shorter than the ones Steve wore during the run. The color is a little more dull, too, like they’ve seen a few rotations through the wash. With each step that Steve takes, the fabric that’s already barely covering Steve’s ass rides up, revealing the pert swell of bare cheek. Eddie knows Steve doesn’t have any underwear on, so his imagination fills in all the blanks left behind by those edible little shorts.

The decision to ignore the rest of the world and give his all to Steve is a good one. They’re joint at the lips the moment the front door is closed. Eddie appreciates the adrenaline rush that comes with their fumble through Steve’s house to get to the bedroom. He doesn’t mind the harsh hits his back takes or the sudden loss of breath that comes with each push against a flat surface. If this is just a fever dream that Eddie’s living through, bruises are the best souvenirs. They’ll be there to remind him that this moment actually happened.

Soon enough, Eddie can’t string two thoughts together. Everything is Steve’s touch or his smell or the softness of his sheets under Eddie’s skin. His head is overran by stimulus Eddie only ever dreamed about before. He’s so mindless that he tells Steve he’s a virgin without a singular ounce of shame. He’s lucky that Steve is actually shaping up to be a good person; in the wrong hands, that sort of information can be weaponized to the fullest extent.

Steve, it seems, just gets off on it. His efforts redouble after Eddie’s babbled admittance. He’s quick to get Eddie’s jeans off and on the floor. Bare skin is on display long before Eddie can come to terms with the fact that this is actually happening. He’s still lingering in disbelief up until Steve’s lips wrap around the head of his cock.

At that point, the evidence is kind of hard to ignore.

Like Steve so easily said, Eddie is about to lose his virginity. There’s no doubt about it now.

The realization becomes an open invitation for Eddie to finally throw caution to the wind and help himself to the banquet before him. Instead of questioning his good fortune, Eddie takes ahold of his luck. His fingers dive into Steve’s hair, tugging at it lightly. The locks are so soft and strong that Eddie’s arousal spikes with each new pull he allows himself. Steve is going to look wrecked when he comes up for air… all because of Eddie’s carnal enjoyment. What is sexier than that?

Eddie finds out the answer to that question a few minutes later. As the need for air finally hits Steve over the head, he pulls off of Eddie’s cock with an audible moan. There’s a string of spit that’s hanging from Steve’s red and swollen lips. Eddie can feel the minute shift of it as Steve drags in harsh breaths. It’s hard to focus on anything else until Steve’s drags his tongue over his lips, affectively breaking the string of spit and making Eddie want to drool. Knowing what he knows about that devilish tongue, Eddie can’t look at it without shuddering.

But, that’s not what really gets Eddie going.

Steve, after catching his breath, gets up from his slumped over position between Eddie’s thighs. He stands tall on the ground, stretching his arms over his head. Each muscle up his stomach and chest and across his arms, ripples with the movement. Eddie watches his biceps flex and tug as Steve whips off his shirt. Those delicious green shorts are pushed down next, rendering Steve completely bare to Eddie. And though it’s the second time in less than an hour, something feels different about it now.

Steve’s nakedness is for Eddie’s eyes alone.

That thought, coupled by the heap of green fabric on the floor, lights Eddie on fire.

The sight before him is, hands down, the sexiest thing he’s ever seen.

Suddenly, the distance between them is too much. Eddie sits up so he can reach out and pull Steve to him. The other boy comes willingly, falling into Eddie’s easy embrace. They are kissing before either understands the magnetic way their bodies fell back together. Eddie’s arms wrap around Steve’s shoulders, wanting to keep the younger boy near.

They make out for so long, Eddie loses track of time. His eyes drift shut so feeling alone is his guide. Despite his previous inexperience, Eddie learns what Steve likes pretty quickly. It’s easy to lean the right way and drop his hands to the lower part of Steve’s back – drawing the noises out that Steve can’t help make it well worth the effort paying attention to the little things costs Eddie. Especially when the right roll of his hips jolts Steve back into action.

“I was plenty happy just to taste you,” Steve says as he pulls back to fumble through the bedside table. He doesn’t continue for a moment. It’s only the sound of rifling that fills the room. Then, a happy sigh leaves Steve’s lips. “A small piece won’t ever be enough, Eddie.”

Slightly taken aback, Eddie is distracted enough by Steve’s words to miss the sticky opening of the lube bottle. His mind is trying so hard to puzzle together what Steve means that Eddie doesn’t feel the breach of Steve’s finger until he’s well passed the first knuckle. The burn is new and odd and just enough to pull Eddie’s focus back to where it needs to be.

“Jesus, Steve – “ Eddie groans, unable to choke back his surprise. “That’s – “

Eddie can’t figure out the best way to describe the feeling, so he bites down on his lip to quiet himself down, instead. After a breath or two, the burning turns to something warm that tingles through his hips and up his spine. Relaxing makes it easier for Steve to replicate that feeling over and over and over again.

Soon, Eddie loses count of the amount of fingers Steve pushes inside of him – he’s gone completely stupid over dead on hits to the prostate and the delicious apprehension that lingers until the next delicate brush against that special place inside. He’s drooling through the new sort of pleasure that comes from being completely taken apart.

It’s so good that he immediately misses it when Steve decides that Eddie is finally ready. “Ah, Steve – I’m so close,” Eddie mumbles, completely wrecked. He’s clenching against the emptiness, fighting with the piece inside of him that wants to shout with dissatisfaction.

Thankfully, Steve is a merciful boy who gently pets Eddie’s face as he feeds him his cock. Eddie is so ready for the intrusion that he picks his hips up to thrust into Steve’s movements, helping him along. He easily ruins Steve’s attempt to be soft and sweet with his impatience. That’s plain to see when Steve bottoms out long before he initially expected. Eddie can’t help but moan in triumph – it’s delectable, catching Steve off guard.

“I’m never going to get used to you, am I?” Steve asks as he pulls his hips back. He thrusts them forward hard, not waiting for Eddie to answer. It’s apparent to them both, even without words, that nothing is ever going to be predictable, ordinary, or usual.

Especially the carnal way they come together.

Steve brings out a passion in Eddie that’s never expressed itself before. He clings tightly to Steve’s arms and back with each punishing thrust. Despite knowing it’s not the best idea, Eddie doesn’t choke back any of his sounds or reactions. He sees the way shouting Steve’s name makes his hips thrust forward harder, so Eddie screams it with reckless abandon.

His body becomes a source of pleasure tempered only by Steve’s touch.

Eddie can’t come until Steve’s hand wraps around the base of his cock, though it only takes the one squeeze to push him over the edge. The precum that’s been steadily dripping onto Eddie’s belly enhances the slide of Steve’s touch. His orgasm, when it hits, is transcending. Eddie can’t feel his toes or fingers or the tip of his nose as outright pleasure overwhelms him for what feels like the first time in his entire life.

The joy of the moment is further enhanced by Steve’s choked off “Eddie – “ as he too jumps off the edge into the abyss of that little death.

They collide somewhere in the darkness, clinging to each other in hopes of catching the returning light.

@infinite-orangepeel, @bidisastersworld, @babygirlstevesstuff, @kyoxyukiforever, @gregre369, @steddieassheg0es, @vampireinthesun, @blackpearlcjacks, @thikkiesixx, @carlyv, @maya-custodios-dionach, @messrsweasley, @princess-josephina, @steddiereid, @nicovania, @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring, @drwatsonsjournal, @original-cypher, @cinnamon-mushroomabomination, @witchofhawkins, @justanothergirlwithobsessions (comment below if you'd like to be added to part 6!)

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steve's little green shorts #bobbie writes #i love this little series #one more to go i think #thanks for reading my friends

[broken-clover]

19- Bows

Wow, it's amazing how much less you want to kill everything when you get a decent nights' sleep...not that it seems to have helped with my posting schedule thought, heh.

Milphelt time! Another thing that I'm surprised took me so long to get to.

-

“Uh, I guess this one’s pretty…?”

She turned over the price tag and winced. “Maybe not that pretty.”

“How many times do I have to remind you?” A teasing elbow prodded her side. “Don’t worry about a budget! Mr. Kiske said we could get whatever we wanted!”

“I know, I know.” Still, her mouth pursed into a crooked line.

“Millia…”

A hand patted her shoulder. When she looked up, a stuffed bush dog was staring her in the face.

With a very unflattering noise, she recoiled back and started to laugh. “Elphelt! Don’t startle me like that!”

“Aww, it startled you?” A pink-framed face poked out from behind it, grinning with glee. “I was just trying to be silly! But I guess it distracted you at least, huh?” She adjusted the shoulder strap on her purse, letting the toy dangle by her hip. One hand pointed down the hall. “If you’re not feeling anything here, wanna try the next section? They might have something you like better over there!”

Millia offered a half shrug. “Worth a try. Are you sure you didn’t want to put any of the ones in here?”

She let herself be pushed along as Elphelt nudged her in the direction of the next set of displays. The girl’s chunky baby-pink heels clunked against the carpet with every step. “Nope! I’ll do it later! Let’s find something for you first, okay?”

Even if she didn’t really understand, she could still entertain the idea. The two of them were flocked on either side by satin, lace, and sheer chiffon, not even mentioning the absurd amount of ribbons and bows on every surface. Millia didn’t know when the last time was that she’d even gone dress-shopping, which only made looking through the higher-end sections more daunting. Elphelt, at least, was exactly in her element, looking over the bridal gowns with an incomparable look of glee.

“Oooooh, oh oh oh look at that one!” They stopped in front of a fluffy-skirted ensemble with a large bow on the back. “That’d look super cute, wouldn’t it?”

Millia had no strong feelings other than confusion. Still, she pulled it off the rack. “I guess. Want me to try it on?”

“Yes! Oh, yesyesyes let’s go put it on right now!”

If nothing else, Elphelt offered emotional support in abundance. The same went for clothing assistance. One thing she’d started to figure out was that wedding dresses tended to be incredibly complicated to put on. She didn’t have any idea how people were supposed to put them on by themselves, between the zips and the ties and the ribbons, it had to be too much for any one person to handle.

El hung the dress on the changing room’s hook while she undressed from her street clothes. Compared to her partner's abundance of cute, playful accessories, her own winter peacoat looked rather drab in comparison. Millia shed it in a heap along one of the room’s chairs and got to work on the buttons of her blouse.

She realized that Elphelt was staring. “Is something wrong?”

“Oh. Uh,” sheepish, the girl sat down and looked elsewhere. “Sorry. I know we’ve been together a while, I just still get distracted looking at you sometimes. I-I can give you some privacy, lemme know when you’re done!”

Something about that made Millia chuckle to herself. “I’m going to need you to help me get it on, anyway. It’s fine.”

“Right. Right!” She immediately scurried over with the dress in her arms. Then it was just a matter of undoing all the zips, stepping inside, trying to slip it on, realizing the zip wasn’t down all the way, undoing the ribbon they had missed…

“Hehe, I guess I’m starting to get why you don’t wear these all that much. Some of these are really hard!”

“I’ll admit, I was never really all that into dresses. Not in a long time, at least…” She turned in the mirror, looking over her shoulder. “They’re not the most practical. If they’re tight, it’s hard to kick.”

Elphelt nodded, fiddling with one of the bows. “Yeah, that one I get. That’s why I like my skirts all floofy! Lets me move around a lot more!”

“Goodness knows I’ve seen plenty of that. I still don’t know if I’ll ever understand how you can fight in heels.”

“It’s all a matter of practice! And good balance! Apparently it’s a good calf workout, I can kick my shoe off all the way across the courtyard!” Her cheeks pinkened a bit. “Which…which I absolutely found out on purpose.”

“Oh?” Millia tilted her head, giving mirror-Elphelt a teasing little look. “As much as I prefer flats, if they’re useful as a weapon, I might have to try them out sometime.”

She could tell that the girl was trying to feign confidence, as it was incredibly cute. “D-definitely! And I think it’d look good on you! So, um, what do you think of the dress you picked out?”

As much as she hoped that she’d immediately be blown away by the sight of herself in the mirror, it was barely a slight breeze. Even when she turned around, the only part that stood out was the large bow on the back. How strange that something so difficult to put on could still feel so bland.

“I don’t know. I’m not sure if I like it,” she replied, hesitant.

Elphelt simply gave her an understanding smile “No worries! We’ve still got months! We can try on as many dresses as we want. Your perfect outfit has gotta be somewhere, we'll just have to find it!”

#frog writes #comfortober #guilty gear #millia rage #elphelt valentine #milphelt

[dingertdongert]

Chapter 2

Donna called over her shoulder as she walked by 'You're helping in the stockroom tonight'. By helping, she actually meant that you and Steven would be hauling the boxes back and forth, organising and unpacking everything, and she would leave early. Not that you knew that yet.

Steven audibly groaned and plonked his head on the cold, white countertop. 'Hey! I'll have to clean your forehead print off there later' you scolded, gently swatting his shoulder.

'You'll learn, soon you'll be like me'

'It can't be that bad', you rolled your eyes at his dramatics.

He turned his head to look at you, cheek now pressed firmly against the plastic surface. 'Oh, it's awful, it's soooo awful, words can't describe the mind-numbing awfulness'

'Mhm' you replied, fiddling with the sweet display, barely paying attention. 'Have you ever done stock or anything like that before?' he asked, appalled by your lack of dread

'I mean kinda, I used to work in a cafe, we'd have to bring the ingredients and stuff in off the delivery truck, put it away. I don't remember it really being that bad. I quite enjoyed it, everyone would joke around as you'd go past each other and it seemed to go quickly'.

'Huh' was his response, he'd managed to lift his head up, and was now resting it in his hand, propped up by his arm. ‘What kind of cafe was it?'

'A small one. I liked it, it was really homey. Independent as well, not a chain'.

'That does sound nice, what did you do?'

'Oh, I was just a barista... But we served fresh food, and the cooks were teaching me some of the recipes and their techniques. That was definitely the best part, I really like cooking now'.

'Yeah well, I've only ever been here'.

You laughed softly, 'I still don't know how you've put up with Donna and J.B. for so long'.

'To be fair, J.B. is a new addition to the enemy'.

Ah yes, the enemy. You and Steven had agreed rather quickly that there seemed to be a "You vs. us" system in place. That being everyone from customers, tour guides, security, management, you name it, viewed the gift shop staff as the lowest of the low in the museum hierarchy.

You preferred it that way anyway, a lot of the female staff seemed to be very catty towards you, especially the tour guides. Every now and then you'd see them giving you dirty looks whenever you and Steven would chat and laugh together. You had no idea why, you'd never done anything or even had to interact with them in any way yet, but their dislike of you seemed to be firmly set in stone.

The time slowly drifted by, with the occasional child wanting to buy a stuffed toy or a packet of sweets providing your main output of customer service. You knew the museum was closed when a tower of white boxes were thumped in front of you. 'Looks like it's stockroom time now folks, off you pop' you heard Donna chirp from the other side. Steven sighed, as he walked out from behind the counter, and picked the boxes up. You couldn't help but gawk a little bit, those boxes looked very heavy. Donna still had a flush on her face after exerting herself carrying them over. He made it look easy.

'Um... can someone get the door please?'

#moon knight #fanfic #steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant x y/n

[dollvie]

new face ? new intro ! lili (s/h) here again to introduce the lovely yun hana. hana was created to fill in the back to reality subplot & spin-off skeleton. she's quite the ride for someone her age (21), but she has a lot of hopes and dreams—for now she's stuck being daddy's girl by displaying her face as a beauty influencer and ex-high end model. the public generally sees her as a spoiled teenager that got married too quickly and to the wrong person. yet, she still somehow manages to rake in large numbers on her social medias. attention seems to be her greatest forte.

under the cut — profile, tldr bio, wanted plots/connections.

— yes, i'm that girl.

yun hana / juliet • july 22nd, 2001 • second born by cho deji, retired actor & yun chul, muse ent ceo • top of class sopas graduate • ex-model, current contracted influencer to muse • singles inferno's boring but pretty cast mate • somehow married to minjun • cancer, snake, enfp-t, lawful neutral(?)

gossip girl's favorite topic and resident homewrecker. doesn't get any better than that. unless you remember her old nepotism trends? now, those feel like a summer fever dream.

— i'm too pretty for this.

oh, so, luckily given birth by entertainment socialites that utilize their beautiful daughter as company propaganda. the public adores her anyways. she's become korea's 'lil doll that somehow scored impossible jobs when she was in high school. everyone thought she was naturally gifted. obviously, daddy had some behind the scenes work to ensure his daughter got the front pages. groomed to be famous you could say.

anyways. when all you know is how to make your parents proud since they showcase nothing in love outside of public achievements, you tend to stick to that. showing bright smiles to the camera and pretending you're someone who's sole purpose is for entertainment or attractive looks. even when your image is taking a heavy tank in opposite of your favor (thanks gg), you keep going. and you keep running into road blocks since appearing on a show was probably the worst idea. lack of personality? clearly. how was she meant to be interested in boys that only asked for her ideal type and not her favorite food? food is more important.

reality is: hana is incredibly smart. top of her class. has ideas to create a sub-label called "prototype," designed for her various idol group concepts and shows. it is essentially her dream to become a creative designer. it's just too bad the company keeps declining those hopes in favor of her current career. they'd probably make new trends.

smart yet impulsively married a man she was merely lost her virginity with at the age of twenty. who even gets married that young still? hana adores fairy tale endings or stories of true love. he was anything but that. he was just soo handsome and soo well off. she's been crushing on him since she were a kid. maybe his attention is what caused her to say yes (if he had a ring at the time or not). honestly, she wasn't sure anymore. the tabloids themselves say their wedding must have been another paid event by the company they both were under. at least the way he uses his dick with her is fantastic.

today she's attempting to make the best of herself. a popular youtube channel followed by various social media pages that get flooded with both love and hate. on a surface level, she's your spoiled girl with a handsome husband she's using for clout, well known for always getting her way due to familial connections. underneath, she feels like screaming into a pillow in hopes the noise will drown out her chaotic thoughts of feeling truly and utterly alone/misunderstood.

— princess treatment only.

let's try to get that group of friends that wear purple on wednesdays because pink is too overrated at this point. besides, purple is hana's iconic color.

probably an ultra best friend but they actually hate her. use her for clout, money, her husband— something of the sort. no one can actually be this much of an airhead, right? she adores spoiling her, uhm, best friend. giving them gifts or taking them on trips.

older brother figure she idolizes more than her father. maybe a man that she met in the weirdest of places. she needs someone big and strong to prevent her from getting into bad situations that'd get her in trouble. softie hours. let her share her ideas with him.

singles inferno cast mates that's flirted with/kissed her maybe. cast mates that saw her as boring. cast mates she had drama with that she ignored. cast mates that she's still friends with after the show.

give me haterrrs.. or anyone jealous of her title/marriage.

classmates from sopas she wasn't the kindest to. yes, go get me a chocolate bar. i'm hungry, peasant. why didn't you bring my cat foam cappuccino today?

maybe someone that wants to get with her husband, more so after finding out their marriage isn't filled with a lot of love. i'd love to see jealous hana fuming. there may be no love but she'd bring claws out to keep her man to herself.

i'll probably add more as i go along. kinda brain dead. better at plotting than making bunnies.

#﹙ ♡ a cappuccino can fix it ੭ 𓈒 #xoxo.intro

[witch-hazels-musings]

because I need that good loving can I request Diluc and Zhongli reaction to seeing there SO dressed up for a formal event even though its not something they really like doing but because they dont want to make Diluc/Zhongli look bad in front of all these other people they put all their effort into looking like the human embodiment of attractiveness.

the way you look tonight 

(okay so truth time - I thought about you the whole time I was writing this and forgot you requested it -- I hope the love of these boys reminds you that you are lovely <3!) 

Warning -> SFW, fluff / comfort (cussing(1))(self-conscience reader)

Character X GN Reader | Anthology

Includes: Zhongli ⚘, Diluc

Zhongli

He finds your normal style of dress unique and interesting, it’s unlike most of the people who make up Liyue’s landscape and it’s independently you

When someone lives their life in the way they want to, that's what Zhongli admires the most about people, about humans 

He doesn’t mind what you wear, he would want anyone to meet you, to see you regardless because through his eyes he sees your attractiveness - it’s in the way you smile, the way you laugh, the way you react when something makes you excited or when he gives you a gift you don’t expect - how could he hide you away and not let others see the way you glow? 

You look at yourself for the tenth time in the large circular mirror. An hour had gone by and you still felt unusual, out of place, like a fraud in this attire. For the, you’ve lost count, time you fuss with the fabric that sits against your stomach, tugging on it, wondering if you should leave it open or closed. The most frustrating thing about this is that you had no idea how to wear this damn thing. 

Your head falls onto the vanity and you do your best to hold it all in. With a deep breath, you go back to messing with your hair and face. The ticking clock behind you reminds you that time is not your friend no matter how much you want it to stop. 

This is so hard for you, of course, you want to be there for Zhongli - he was there for everything you ever did, it was beyond time to repay him - but you just couldn’t find the confidence to be proud of what you’d done. So, shaping the image in your brain into a distorted representation of what you wished you looked like, you stood from your small chair and walked toward the door of the bedroom. 

Your shoes click on the hardwood floor which is something you hate, the thought of people hearing you coming only to see what appears from the source of the sound makes your skin crawl. Still, you pressed on, and that’s when your eyes fell onto the immaculate figure that stands near the entrance. His tall, elegant frame is so intense it knocks the wind from your lungs as if someone just punched you in the stomach. How can I stand next to that … you panic and turn to retreat back into the safety of the bedroom when your arms collide with a small table in the hallway.

Objects fall to the ground and, in a ridiculous display of your clumsy nature, you juggle one of the more breakable objects before catching it moments from shattering on the floor below. 

“Whew …” You exclaim, bringing it close to your body. “Sorry, little guy didn’t mean to do that.” You wince, patting its side before place it back onto its home and picking up the other objects from the ground. 

Long fingers enter your field of vision, startled you stand only to see Zhongli reaching down to assist you. 

“Ah, sorry.” You express, crossing your arms after putting the items in your hands half-hazard onto the surface. 

“No need to apologize, are you injured?” He asks, standing himself and reminding you how tall he is. 

“My pride, maybe.” You share, laughing through your embarrassment. 

“Too much of that and we might find ourselves in trouble anyway.” He looks down at you, his eyes scanning, interested and making you shift under their gaze. “You …” 

“I know... I look so strange, and,” you begin, fussing with the top again, “I can’t seem to get this right.” Turning around you show him what you were talking about and how it seems far too loose. 

He laughs softly and you feel his hands run underneath the edge of the fabric and coming to rest at the wrap at your waist. “Let me assist you.” 

“Thank you …” He’s so close to you, his hands move expertly as they work to correct your inadequacies, eyes compassionate, patient as they always are. 

“This outfit suits you.”

“Does it really? I look so … I mean this isn’t something I would normally wear. In fact,”  You think for a minute before continuing, “I can’t remember the last time I dressed up for something other than adventuring. It’s not practical to go running through ruins in this type of getup.” You explain, lifting your arms and watching how the fabric slips down to your elbows before sliding back to your wrists as they collide with your legs. 

“That could turn things into quite the challenge I’d imagine.” 

“Exactly.” 

“Nevertheless, you will turn quite a many heads upon our arrival.” 

“That’s what I'm afraid of …” You mumble, forgetting that he is close enough to hear you. 

“Y/N, need I remind you how spectacular you look.” 

You bite your lip but your insecurities make you speak anyway, “I just don’t see how I have the right to stand next to you, I don’t want you to be … ashamed of me.” The end of your sentence trails off as you look to the ground. Zhongli doesn’t respond until his hands stop fixing your gown. With comforting fingers he presses against the soft underbelly of your chin, lifting your head at the angle it should be. 

“While I am beyond sure you can hear me, I hope that you can trust me as well when I tell you that every day I am honored to stand at your side. There is nothing in this world which compares to your beauty, in fact, you are more radiant than the moon itself.” He leans in to place a kiss against your forehead. 

“You don’t wish I was … more attractive?” 

“I cannot wish for a thing that holds no bearing on reality.” 

“Mmm.” 

“If my words have not reached you, perhaps I can better express my truth through actions …” He pulled you flush against him, his hands now wrapped around your hips and eyes focused on your lips. 

“Aa! Wait … no, I believe you.” Embarrassed, you push away from him and make your way toward the door. “Let’s just go because if I get out of this thing I won’t be putting it back on.” You huff, smoothing out the wrinkles. 

“Shall we?” He reaches for your hand and easily you take it. 

“Let’s do this.” With a lighthearted Zhongli, you exit your home and head toward the lively sounds drifting over the water. 

Diluc

He already thinks you are so incredibly attractive no matter what you wear - he knows you’re one for practicality, from your actions to your clothes, you are ready to go and prepared for whatever will come your way - a trait he admires

There is something adorable about the way you fall out of bed in the morning and, in some cases, take less time than he does to get ready - it can come in handy where there much work to be done 

He never asks for you to be more than what you are - he honestly wouldn’t care what other people thought about you, all that matters is you believe him when he tells you how good you look or how you make his heart clench 

So when he sees you descend the stairs in an outfit, a formal, totally out-of-the-absolute-norm outfit, he’s stunned 

“Crap.” You say, flinging the jewelry you couldn’t decide on anyway back toward the dresser. You’d taken far too long to get ready, even though you started hours ago, it still wasn’t enough to make you feel confident and finished. Glancing at your reflection one last time, you gave up with a heavy sigh and made your way down the hallway. 

You could already see everyone else in their formal attire ready to go, even the attendants looked better than you did. When you caught sight of Diluc your steps slowed and for a solid minute to you debated about turning around and hiding under the comfortable covers of the bed you loathed getting out of this morning. 

“Ah, there you are! Are you ready?” Adaline shouted from below you and like a scene from a nightmare everyone turned to look up at you. You stumbled backward and felt your chest tighten, eyes scanning each face as you debated on your next action. When they fell onto Diluc’s stoic eyes, you felt a little bit of relief and knew all you had to do was make it down to him. 

Slowly, you started again and, with a deathlike grip on the railing, you made your way down the stairs. Diluc met you at the bottom, his hand extended to take yours. 

“I’m so sorry. I couldn’t figure out what would pair well with … this thing.” You gestured at your outfit and looked behind him, thankful that people had already started to leave through the front door. “Do I … look okay?” 

With an awkward smile, you waited for his answer, hopeful that he wouldn’t have to struggle so hard to lie to you. I mean, when you were able to see him in his suit, the way it perfectly fits around his toned body, the fabric tucked in all the right places, the sleeves just long enough to give one a peek of skin underneath - there was no way you compared to him. 

He looked at you for so long your heart started to feel like a thousand knives were stabbing you in all directions. He hates this … he can’t believe that I’m such a disaster. The thoughts circulate in your brain and just as your about to rush back up the stairs and hide he lifts your fingers to his lips and kisses them with so much love. 

“I apologize … I’m just a bit startled is all.” Your stomach drops to your feet at his words. 

“Archons, is it that bad? Did I put something on wrong … or?” 

“Nothing like that,” He kisses your palm and the action makes your spine turn hot, “You look unbelievable, is what I wanted to say.” 

“Oh, really?” 

“Yes.” He looks at you but you shy away from his eyes. “Y/N, do you trust me?” 

“What … of course I trust you.” You reply, flabbergasted. 

“Then trust me now.” He pulls you in for a hug, his arms wrapping around your neck, his hand resting at the back of your head. “I’ve never seen someone as brilliant as you.” 

Fueled by your emotions, you return his hug, squeezing your arms around his waist and doing your best not to let your face be ruined by the tears that want to fall from stinging eyes. “Thank you, I’ll trust you on this … today.” 

“I don’t have any issues reminding you again and again.” Shouting outside tells you that it’s now or never and, as much as you don’t want to, your arms release each other. “Are you ready?” He asks, offering you his arm, and with a deep inhale and sharp nod, you take it and walk through the doors. 

----

taglist: @star-gods @mercurysmaiden @dourpeep @clemmywrites @pepperoncinipizza @handswritteeen @the-mermaid-of-mondstadt @lucifucker @beelsdessert @coolcats09 @ninqat @musekala @sufzku @mooshymello @heavenlyang @plenilunegazes @odafashioned @glazelilyy

#genshin impact #genshin impact X reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact musings #genshin impact fiction #diluc X reader #diluc #genshin diluc #genshin impact diluc #Zhongli X reader #zhongli #genshin zhongli

[mementomoriifics]

Office Hours - Sanemi x Reader (NSFW)

Tags: Student/Teacher, college au, pwp, praise kink, cunnilingus, blowjob, over the desk, reader is cis female

Wordcount: 3965

Author's note: This one was weirdly insanely popular on my ao3 account so lets see if Tumblr appreciates it too!

AO3 link

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The campus had been deserted for a while now, students either having gone home or were about to, as you walked down the hallway with the professor's offices. You fidgeted nervously with the papers you were carrying, a little scared of being in a relatively small space with your professor, Sanemi-sensei.

Sanemi-sensei was well known around campus for all the wrong reasons. He was abrasive, had a temper, refused to button up his shirt (though depending on who you asked, this was far from a problem),... A rumor had even made the rounds that he defenestrated a student once for pissing him off! So you felt like your worry was justified.

Kind of.

And you had to be completely honest with yourself, the fear of being hurled out of a window wasn't the only cause of your nerves. In fact, despite his brash personality, you had foolishly developed a crush of him. He was easy on the eyes in a rough kind of way, his chest was nearly always on display and the cause of plenty of distractions during class and he just... God you shouldn't even be thinking about this.

You turned the corner that would inevitably lead to your professor's office, nerves flaring up something fierce. You swallowed hard as you passed the door to Kanae-sensei's office, then Giyuu-sensei until you halted in front of a plain wooden door that had a plaque reading “Shinazugawa Sanemi”.

Your mouth felt like the Sahara as you raised your hand, rapping your knuckles against the smooth surface of the door. You heard shuffling on the other side before hearing a muffled:

“Enter.”

Steeling yourself, you opened the door, seeing Sanemi-sensei sitting behind his desk. His shirt was open, as always, and his hair a little messier than usual. On his nose perched a thin, wire frame pair of glasses and he looked... tired.

“Can I help you?” He asked, staring you down as you entered the office further, closing the door behind you. The second it closed, your nerves flared up again.

You watched as Sanemi-sensei leaned back in his chair, scarred arms crossing as he impatiently waited for you to find your voice.

“Ah, yes. Sorry for bothering you professor, but I was having trouble with today's lecture. I wasn't sure when your open office hours were so I thought...” You trailed off, holding your notes tighter as Sanemi-sensei stared at you. He seemed to be thinking, suddenly pointing at the chair across from his desk.

“Sit down. I have two more assignments to grade. When I'm done, I'll get to you.”

Rude, but better than what you were fearing.

Silently, you grabbed the chair, pulling it out from under the desk as Sanemi-sensei went back to his work. You put your papers on the desk, folding your hands in your lap as a silence fell in the small room. Sanemi-sensei was pretty much ignoring you as he continued grading the assignments, mumbling under his breath something about 'stupid' and 'this is high school level, for fucks sake'. You tried not to smile, instead busying yourself with subtly looking around.

Sanemi-sensei's office was pretty bare, void of most decoration and personal belongings. There was a desk, a few filing cabinets, a computer and that was about it. The only thing that seemed to be his addition were two pictures on his desk. You could just about make out one of them.

In the picture, you saw a beautiful woman with long, black hair. She was surrounded by children all bearing some resemblance to her. Next to her stood a much younger and scar-less Sanemi, less than pleased to be part of what you assumed to be a family photo.

The sudden clearing of a throat tore you from your snooping, eyes locking with your teacher who seemed less than pleased.

“If you're done sticking your nose where it doesn't belong,” You felt your face flush with embarrassment. “what did you need help with?”

You cleared your throat in turn, grabbing your notes again and scooting a little closer to the desk. Sanemi watched you, some of the hostility leaving his body as you started talking.

“Well, I didn't quite understood this formula.” You started, pointing at the long, difficult formula Sanemi-sensei had explained in class. “I don't quite understand how-”

Sanemi took your notes from you, reading them over. You stayed quiet as you watched him, his basically translucent eyebrows furrowing.

To avoid feeling self conscious, you let your eyes wander, accidentally – or maybe subconsciously on purpose – letting them linger on your professor's chest. He was very in shape and you couldn't help but wonder where all of the scars on him came from. And just how much time he spent at the gym to develop a body like that.

“You wrote down the method of solving it wrong.”

Your notes were put down in front of you a little louder than he should have, pointing a finger at your writing. You blinked a few times, staring owlishly at your teacher.

“I did?”

Sanemi-sensei snorted, nodding.

“Yeah, you did. You're supposed to-” He interrupted himself, standing and rounding the desk. You felt heat creep up to your face as he stood next to you, one hand on the back rest of your chair as he leaned in.

“Right here.” He pointed a finger again. “We talked about-”

You listened, or at least tried to, as Sanemi-sensei explained your mistake.

His presence next to you was intimidating, to say the least. You could feel the warmth coming off of him accompanied by the scent of... red bean paste?

You'd be a liar if you denied that Sanemi-sensei was attractive. And at least on some level, he seemed to be aware of it. Sure he may be an asshole but he looked good in a dangerous sort of way and the fact he was your teacher made the idea even more alluring. Like wanting to eat some sort of forbidden fruit. And in all honesty you wanted him to eat-

“-and then you...” Sanemi trailed off, looking back at you through his glasses. You briefly looked up at him, a little dazed.

“Are you even paying attention?”

You flinched, basically caught in the act. Nodding your head perhaps a little too enthusiastically, you prayed your teacher would ignore the fact you basically just spaced out in the favor of daydreaming about him doing ungodly things to you.

“Yeah, I'm not buying it.” Sanemi-sensei said, standing up straight and crossing his arms again. Your mouth suddenly felt really dry again and you wrung your hands together. God, could you made yourself look even more guitly?

“Sorry, professor, I just... am a little tired.” You lied through your teeth. Sanemi scoffed, staring you down further and making you shrink back in your seat.

“Again, not buying it. Why are you here?”

You felt panic creep up on you, looking up at your teacher. Your mind – uncooperative as ever – painted the picture of him staring down at you in a very different scenario. With you on your knees in front of him, his cheeks tainted faint pink as you-

“I didn't understand the lesson.” you spoke, voice soft. You looked away from Sanemi, not having the nerve to keep looking at your teacher. “It's just been a long day and-”

You felt his hand on your shoulder, freezing as he gave it a gentle squeeze. You willed yourself to look up at him again, seeing him look at you with a certain calculated gaze. As if he was weighing his options or something. He rounded the desk again, sitting down and looking even more tired than before as he removed his glasses.

“Go home. Come back tomorrow when you can pay attention. I'm done with you wasting my time.”

The words made your stomach drop. You didn't want to leave, you still needed help. If only you could keep your mind out of the gutter you'd-

“No, I'll be fine! I jus-”

“It's not up for debate” Sanemi spoke, his voice carrying authority you didn't want to go against. But you did anyway.

“But sir-!”

You watched Sanemi-sensei's eyes widen a touch, his jaw tightening before he stood again and brought his palm down on the surface of his desk.

“Do not call me that,” he said, giving you a stern look that made a shiver run down your spine and settle between your thighs. “And if you're really so keen on staying here, tell me what the fuck you were thinking of. What was so much more important than your education, huh?”

You swallowed hard, regretting pushing back as much as you had. If the earth split open below your feet and swallowed you whole, you'd be grateful for it. Alas, no such thing happened and you were simply faced with Sanemi-sensei staring you down. You opened your mouth a few times, no sound leaving you. Your professor's temper didn't improve.

“C'mon! Out with it!”

“I was thinking about you!” You spat out, squeezing your eyes shut and digging your face in the palms of your hands, dreading the reaction to follow. But instead of laughter, mockery or a demand you leave, you were met with silence.

“About me?” Sanemi-sensei asked. “What about me?”

Oh fuck.

You swallowed hard, refusing to lower your hands.

“A-about you,” you started, shaking slightly. “About you doing... things... to me...”

Your voice was barely above a whisper as you finished the sentiment, wondering if it was humanly possible to die from embarrassment. If it was, you were sure that you'd meet your inevitable demise here in your professor's office.

Silence hung in the room for a moment before you hear your professor move. You peeked through your fingers, seeing him sitting on the desk in front of you. His thighs were spread, his feet finding purchase on the seat either side of you, caging you in. You lowered your hands as he rested his arms on his thighs and leaned in.

You were confused and couldn't quite decipher the expression on his face, watching at his eyes bore into you. He seemed to be considering something again, taking a moment before he spoke again.

“What things.”

This just kept getting worse, didn't it?

You took in a deep breath, holding Sanemi-sensei's gaze for a moment before willing yourself to speak.

“Sexual things, si- Professor.” you corrected yourself. You heard Sanemi hum, the wood of his desk protesting under his weight as he leaned back on his palms. A small part of your brain wondered if maybe he was showing off for you, but you were quick to dismiss that. He couldn't be, right? He shoudln't.

“I'm your professor.” He stated, cocking his head as he gave you a stern look. “You're my student. If something happened between us, It'd cost me my job.”

You cringed slightly.

“I know, it's why I- It's why-” You started, trying to justify your fantasizing about your teacher. “It's why it's all just-”

“Thoughts?” he completed. You nodded, feeling a little bit of your tension easing away as you looked up at your professor again who was still sitting on his desk, holding you hostage. “I'm not so sure about that.”

You gave him a confused look, your professor continuing his reasoning as his eyes bore into yours.

“You think you're subtle, huh? I've noticed you staring. And that skirt you wore the other day barely covered you. Did you hope to catch my attention? Because you did.”

Wait.

Wait wait wait.

What was happening. What on earth was happening.

You swallowed hard again, confusion apparently obvious on your face as Sanemi-sensei kept talking, one of his hands settling on a strong thigh. You watched said hand, how it rested on muscle that seemed a strain for the slacks he was wearing.

“What? Didn't expect me to notice? Well you're wrong. Now c'mon. I wanna know what's going on in your head that you couldn't focus.”

You hesitated, looking down at your hands in your lap as you found the courage to confess. You knew very well that you shouldn't, but the fact your professor seemed to be on board with everything made you perhaps bolder than you should be.

“I was daydreaming about... Being on my knees for you, professor.” You said, hearing him hum again.

“And making you... Feel good.”

You looked up, eyes widening as you saw that the hand on his thigh had migrated to his crotch. He was shamelessly groping himself in front of you. You could see the bulge of his arousal and your mouth started watering at the thought of seeing it uncovered.

“Did I tell you to stop talking?”

You shook your head, eyes still glued to the display in front of you as you kept talking.

“I was thinking about having your,” you paused for a moment. “cock in my mouth. To suck on it.”

Okay you could've phrased that a little better but Sanemi-sensei didn't seem to mind. His hand gripped his length through the fabric of his pants, squeezing for a moment.

“So you couldn't focus on school work because of his?” He spoke, voice a little lower and breathier. The sound of it made you squirm in your seat and wonder what other noises he'd make.

“Yes, professor.” You admitted, past the point of shame. “I think about it a lot.”

Sanemi-sensei chuckled, his hands moving to his belt, your heart skipping a beat as you watched your professor give in. This was happening. He was going to-

He stopped, making you look up at him in confusion. He gave you a stern look again, tongue darting out to wet his lips before he spoke.

“Whatever happens in this office, stays in this office, you understand? If I find out you've been blabbing to anyone, I'll make you fail my class. Understood?”

You nodded eagerly.

“I won't tell a soul, professor. I promise.”

He flinched slightly.

“Just call me Sanemi, please. This is already fucked up enough.”

Your heart started beating faster as you nodded again. Wetness grew between your thighs as it sank in that Sanemi was going to give you exactly what you'd been dreaming of. You couldn't believe that this was actually happening. You were convinced you got sucked into a fanfic or something. You had to be!

“Good. Now,” His hands started moving again, the clinking of his belt sounding so loud to you. You watched with baited breath as he undid his pants, popping the button and pulling the zipper down before leaning back on his hands again. “Go ahead.”

Your previous anxiety was all but forgotten as you reached for his pants. You carefully peeled the fabric of his plain, grey boxers down, gasping as you finally freed his erection from layers of constricting fabric.

He was a little bigger than average, the tip of it flushed a dark red with arousal. A vein ran along the side and before you could stop yourself, you ran your tongue over it. Your professor cursed above you, his thighs tensing as your tongue grazed the head of his pretty cock. You watched his face as you took him into your mouth, his eyes half lidded and his cheeks tinted the lightest dusting of pink.

He looked even better than in you daydreams.

You slowly took more of him into your mouth; eager to please him, when he started talking.

“Is this what you daydream about in class?” His voice was strained, as if he was holding himself back. “Sucking my cock instead of doing what you're supposed to. I wonder, do you fantasize about me fucking you too?”

You nodded, mouth still full of him.

“Good, because I do too.”

The confession made you moan around his dick, Sanemi cursing as he put a hand on the back of your head, making you bob your head at a faster pace.

“You've been driving me fucking mad. Those skirts you wear? Your staring? That pen you keep puttin' in your mouth? Fuck, I've been wanting to bend you over my desk for months now.”

You moaned again as the head of Sanemi's dick grazed the back of your throat. The grip he had on your hair tightened as he slowly made you take more of him. You fought your gag reflex as you heard your teacher groan loudly.

“Thassit.” He mumbled, speech a little slurred. “That's a good girl. Just like that.”

The praise made your heart soar. Your nose pressed against the white hair above his dick, your eyes watering slightly. You forced yourself to swallow, Sanemi cursing loudly above you. A few second later, he let go of you, you pulling off his dick and coughing into your hands. It was the first time you'd managed to take something like that and the reactions it had gotten made any discomfort more than worth it.

“Shit,” Sanemi cursed, wrapping a hand around himself and stroking himself slowly. His eyes were on you, carrying an intensity that almost made you moan. “take of your pants. Bend over my desk.”

He got of his desk, giving you room to complete his request. With trembling fingers, you unbuttoned your jeans, sliding them and your panties down in one go. You bent over at the waist, letting your upper body rest on the desk. Sanemi took place behind you, warm hands settling on your behind, the tips of his fingers digging into your skin a bit. You looked over your shoulder, seeing your professor stare down at your pussy as if transfixed.

“I need to taste you.”

Before the words sank in, Sanemi was on his knees, his mouth on you. You let out a gasp and a whimper, feeling his tongue lap at you like a man possessed. He circled your clit with the tip of his tongue, wrapping his lips around it and sucking harshly, making you arch your back. His hands groped your behind eagerly as he ate you out.

The noises reaching your ears were beyond obscene, the feeling of his tongue making your head spin. You still couldn't wrap your head fully around the fact that your mathematics professor was on his knees behind you but it felt too good to care. And you wanted more.

“Sanemi- 'nemi, please. Fuck me.” You breathed out as Sanemi dragged the flat of his tongue over your slit before sinking it inside of you. Your fingers dug into the desk as best they could, your legs shaking.

Sanemi drew back, rising to his feet again.

“You on something?” He asked, voice thick with lust. You nodded, thanking your lucky stars your parents insisted on you taking the pill when you went off to college. You never knew, after all.

“Good.”

You kept watching as Sanemi spat in his hand, jacking himself off for a moment before he lined himself up with your entrance. He was breathing heavily, his mouth and chin still shiny with your slick. It was the hottest thing you'd ever seen.

Painfully slow, he pushed into you. He stretched you out deliciously, making your toes curl the more he gave you. Your mouth dropped open in a soundless moan as he moved his hands to your hips, thrusting the last few inches into you with a sharp snap of his hips.

“Fuck you're tight.” He breathed, reveling in the feeling of you around him for a moment before he started to thrust. The pace he set was slow but hard and made your head spin.

“You have no fuckin' idea how often I've thought about this.” Sanemi spoke, gritting his teeth. “How often I've jacked off to the thought of you bent over my desk exactly like this.”

You whimpered, moving your hips to meet Sanemi's thrusts, making the man groan. He sped up, his talking continuing much to your happiness.

“How often I – fuck – have thought about just... Keepin' you back after class to fuck you on the lectern. Right there were everyone is gonna look the next day. And you knowin' that's where I finally had my-” you yelped as his arms wrapped around you, forcing you up as he dragged you down into the chair with him. You sat on his lap, his cock impossibly deeper in you now. “way with you.”

Sanemi ground his cock into you, hands shamelessly crawling under your shirt, cupping your breasts and roughly squeezing them.

“Just as soft as I thought they'd be.” He muttered, more to himself than to you. You bit your bottom lip, rolling your hips as you tried to fuck yourself on your teachers cock. He seemed to appreciate that, thrusting up in you as best he could.

“Good girl. That's a real good girl.” He half moaned as he dug his face in your neck, teeth grazing over the sensitive skin there. “My good girl.”

You let out a pornographic moan, your climax nearing far too fast. You reached a hand down, rubbing your clit to chase that feeling none the less. You felt Sanemi move his head, hooking his chin over your shoulder so he could watch.

“You gonna cum?” He asked, breathlessly. His thrusts got faster, his grip on your breasts almost bruising. You nodded. “C'mon. Cum for me. Cum like a good girl. Cum for Sir.”

His words were enough to send you over the edge, moaning as you threw your head back against his shoulder. Your walls pulsing around Sanemi's dick seemed to be enough to make him cum as well, twitching as he spilled himself inside of you.

The both of you were breathing hard as you came down from your high, your professor pressing a lazy kiss against your cheek, babbling barely coherent praises to you. It was also him who finally broke the spell, ushering you surprisingly gentle to stand. Wordlessly, he pulled up your panties and pants, giving your ass a playful spank before he started dressing himself as well. You flushed red as you slowly felt your teachers cum leak out of you onto the fabric of your underwear, a little reminder of what had just happened.

When the both of you were fully dressed and presentable again, Sanemi turned to you, silently handing you your notes back.

“Thanks, professor.” You said, giving him a sheepish smile before taking them. He 'hm'd in reply. You hesitated a moment, not wanting to leave yet but the clock on the wall made it pretty obvious it was getting late. “Thank you for seeing me.”

“Don't worry about it.” Sanemi said, watching you turn to leave. In a move that surprised you both, he reached out and grabbed your arm, stopping you. He drew you in, pressing his lips hard to yours. You let out a surprised noise, it taking you a moment to kiss him back. When you parted, he grinned at you.

“I have some free time this friday, to help you.” He said, you knowing full well what he was implying. “Does four o' clock work for you?”

You nodded, unable to stop the smile spreading on your face. Sanemi smiled back in turn, pressing another bruising kiss on your lips.

“Good. Don't be late.”

“I won't be, Sir.”

#sanemi shinazugawa x reader #sanemi x reader #kny x reader #demonslayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #teacher/student #not sfw #morii's fics

[emerald-chaos]

Touchdown

*gif not mine, credit goes to the owner*

I just want to take a moment to say thank you for the love on my last fic! It made my lil ole heart swell to see that peopled enjoyed it enough to leave a like or reblog.

This is just something special I had in my arsenal that I wrote for a friend a few months ago. I touched it up a bit and added a few things here and there. It all started when we were talking about how much we loved when Chris' accent got heavier after he'd been drinking, and well, I couldn't help myself lol. I hope you enjoy the fluff! xoxo

I apologize for any grammatical errors, I tried to proof-read but am also a little exhausted lol.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 2844

Warnings: I don't think there's anyway? Mentions of being drunk/drinking alcohol, cursing, and illusions to sexy times, but that's about it.

You hadn’t noticed how furiously your knee was bouncing up and down until the person sitting next to you on the subway got up to move seats once the train squealed to a stop. You sighed and ran your hands down the front of your thighs. Normally being a little late didn’t bother you as much, but tonight you were meeting him.

You flipped your wrist over to check your watch. 8:30pm. In all honesty, it had probably been only thirty seconds later than when you checked it the last time. Another deep sigh escaped from your lips as you started to become hyper aware of the train remaining still at the current stop. What could possibly be taking so long? You knew he wouldn’t care if you were running late, but the time the two of you had together already felt so minuscule. You wanted to capitalize on every second you could.

The train began moving again and you slumped back into your seat, feeling only a small amount of relief. It was becoming painfully apparent that you needed to try and relax. You could feel the sweat building up on your body, the sting on your palms from where your fingernails were pressing in with a vengeance moments ago, and you could hear your heart thumping in your ears. Your hand dug around in your purse for a few moments before finding the small case you were looking for. Opening it, you slipped your headphones into your ears and let your head rest on the window behind you as music intertwined with your thoughts.

Once upon a time, you made fun of people who decided to go to grad school. What kind of a clown would spend thousands of MORE dollars and go BACK to school?? Not to mention the stress of the assignments, the due dates - it was not for you...or so you thought.

Now here you are, a regular booboo the fool.

NYU’s graduate program for design and merchandising wasn’t necessarily part of your 5-year plan, but when the opportunity landed in front of you it was difficult to pass up. NYU was a school you had only dreamt of attending back in high school. When you were a senior in high school you were able to tour the campus and fell in love immediately. Hours upon hours were spent researching grants, scholarships, and all sorts of ways to try to make it happen. However, the dream ended as most teenage dreams do - crushed. There was no way you or your parents could afford the loans that it would surely wrack up to attend the out of state university, and there was no way you could ask your parents take on that kind of debt just so you could go to college. UMass was the way to go - close to home and familiar. Not to mention you were able to obtain several scholarships and grants that helped bring down the cost tremendously. Little did you know, boring ole UMass would bring you one of the most important things in your life.

Applying for graduate school wasn’t an easy decision and one you couldn’t really take all the credit for. A smile crept across your face as you reminisced on the night you nervously brought up the idea to your long-term boyfriend.

“I think you should do it,”

“I know, right?” you scoffed, “it’s insane, why would I do something so stup...wait, what? You do?”

“Of course I do. This is something you love and that you’re passionate about. Do you know how many hours of my life were spent listening to you ramble about NYU?” he questioned with a grin.

“It will open up so many doors for you. We can make things work,” a chuckle escaped from those beautiful lips as he saw your dumbfounded expression. He wrapped his fingers around your waist and pulled you close, “What? Did you expect me to forbid it? Cmon, baby, what kind of guy do you take me for?”

You didn’t have a lot of wins in your life, but you did have Chris.

When you got accepted, he took off a week from work to drive you 3 and a half hours south to help get you settled and moved into your temporary new home. The two of you ate a disgusting amount of pizza, moved a ridiculous amount of heavy furniture in the middle of a summer heat wave, and enjoyed each other’s company before the long-distance thing would set in. Chris spent that week encouraging you every step of the way, talking you off the ledge when you were convinced you had made the wrong decision, and made sure to help you christen every possible surface of your new place in the most deliciously sinful way.

You bit your lip slightly at the thought and a warm feeling spread across your face. Chris was one of the most incredible people you had met in this world. Kind, caring, funny, intelligent, passionate, and god was he sexy. The connection the two of you had was scary at first, but now you just couldn’t imagine spending your life with anyone else.

The robotic voice came over the loud-speaker in the subway car and you were rudely ripped back to reality as it pulled into your stop. You hurriedly scooped up your bag and jogged off the train.

It had been a promise between the two of you when you moved that there would be equal effort when it came to visiting and keeping in contact while having good, open communication. Long distance was hard but the two of you were determined to make it work. FaceTime calls, hours upon hours of texting, and even as far as writing the occasional letter back and forth (because your boyfriend was a hopeless romantic and you loved it so much). This weekend was your turn to come home to visit, and of course your last class had to go longer than anticipated. Fuckin’ Tiffany and her stupid ass questions.

The muscles of your calves burned as you kept up your hurried pace, weaving through the crowds of people gathered on sidewalks outside of various clubs and restaurants. It was a weekend night and the Patriots were playing, which meant the city was more alive than usual. New York was it's own beast, but it was a different type of hustle and bustle. Nights like these made your heart ache for home - the thick Massachusetts accents, the rowdy voices of bar patrons arguing about the game, the hugs shared between family members as they parted after dinner, and the faint smell of nicotine and alcohol that hung in the air.

As the neon sign that hung in the pub window came in to view you felt your heart dip down into your stomach. Last weekend’s visit had to be cancelled due to some stuff coming up with Chris’ work and a surprise assignment for you, so you hadn’t seen your boyfriend in 2 weeks. With a deep breath you swung open the door and scanned the crowd for him. He told you that he would be there promptly at 7:15pm for pregame shenanigans with his friends - which actually translated to how many pitchers of beer could they suck down before kick off.

“Aw, come ON! That is such a bullshit call!”

You heard him before you saw him. Of course. A grin spread across your lips as you shook your head. The thought of leaving to avoid secondhand embarrassment crossed your mind briefly before you picked up your feet and made your way through the crowd toward the sound. A room full of people from New England and you would still recognize that voice anywhere.

Everyone else seemed to fade away as you saw the outline of the tall, dark haired man standing at the bar. The slight freckles that spattered the back of his neck, the Brady jersey that he spent WAY too much money customizing, and the signature backward ball cap were ingrained in your subconscious memory. Not to mention if you didn’t recognize his outline or his voice, you would definitely recognize that ass anywhere.

You loved how passionate he got about sports and the way his Boston accent seemed to get thicker with each beer he consumed. Growing up in the area, you wouldn't think the accent would send a tingle down your spine the way it does, but it was different - it was Chris. Not to mention the sparkle in his eye when he would watch his favorite team or the way he would get in to arguments whenever someone tried to say something negative about them. You loved your big, handsome, over-sized toddler man so damn much.

A light tap on his shoulder made him whip around, his slightly opened mouth from his interrupted conversation curved upwards into a wicked grin as he made the connection of who was finally standing in front of him.

“Hey there, handsome. I don’t see a ring on your finger. You single?” You grinned, feeling your entire body fill with warmth as Chris leaned back and grabbed his chest as he erupted in laughter.

“Nah, nah, nah, unfortunately for you I am taken” he responded as he snaked his arms around your waist, sliding his hands into your back pockets as he pulled you into his figure.

“That is too bad,” you tsk'd, running a finger down his toned bicep, “she’s one lucky girl.”

“I think I’m the lucky one,” he grinned. He leaned down to meet your lips in a kiss. You sighed into it, allowing your body to mold itself so perfectly into his. The taste of beer on his lips and the smell of his cologne was intoxicating - it was home. You immediately allowed him entrance as you felt his tongue glide along your bottom lip. Your body felt small in his strong grip and you couldn’t help but laugh a bit as he gave your ass a firm squeeze. Normally, this type of bold, public display of affection would make you cringe away but at this point you were lost in Chris that you had absolutely no shame. Each time the two of you embraced had always felt like the first. Your heart still fluttered and your knees still got weak, like you were a 16 year old being kissed for the first time.

In the middle of your reunion moment, however, something happened in the game that made the entire bar erupt in boo’s and curses. Chris lifted his lips from yours to look over his shoulder and inspect what he had missed. You laughed and shook your head as you pushed him back towards his friends and took a seat in the bar stool he had been standing behind initially. His large hands found a natural place on your shoulders. While his eyes remained glued on the TV he began applying a moderate amount of pressure to your neck and shoulders. You didn’t realize how much your body craved that touch, his touch, until you immediately melted back into him.

The bartender slid a beer in front of you with a wink and you mouthed your thanks. You felt a twinge in your heart as you looked around, taking in the atmosphere of the bar. This was a typical weekend night for the two of you whenever you were living together. Football, drinks, pub food, and friends. If it wasn’t this pub it was your living room, just a couple blocks away. You didn’t even mind that it was your first night back and you weren’t alone, spending it immediately wrapped up in your satin sheets. The atmosphere, the people - it was so warm and familiar that you really wouldn’t rather be doing anything else. Plus, being wrapped up together in the sheets was sure to follow.

“I missed you,” hummed a pair of lips as they placed a kiss on the shell of your ear. A shiver shot down your spine at the sensation of his warm breath fanning over your neck. You reached up a hand and connected it to the nape of his neck.

“I missed you too,” you replied, turning your head to plant a kiss on his stubbled cheek.

His arms changed position as he wrapped them in front of your shoulders and crossed them, resting his chin on the top of your head. Your hand absentmindedly rubbed his forearms as you nursed your beer and placed your focus onto the game for the first time tonight.

The laughter seemed to escape from your chest naturally and effortlessly the entire night, as it always had a habit of doing when Chris was around. The camaraderie between him and his buddies during a game was something you’d grown to enjoy over the years. Chris’ competitive nature and the way his jaw clenched when something wasn’t going the way he wanted was always kinda...hot. All of his friends were huge assholes, but in the best way. It was always entertaining to hear them jab at each other and do what they could to rile someone up. They were the life of every party you had ever attended and they had a way of making a boring night a lot more interesting.

Thankfully (for the integrity of the bar) the Pats won the game with a surprise touchdown in the last 30 seconds of the game. Chris, being the guy he is, bought a final round for his friends and a nearby group they had been going back and forth with all night. You couldn’t help but laugh as he drunkenly leaned across the counter and slurred his order to the bartender.

“I need a round for m’friends and for these assholes over here who thought Tom Brady was anything but a winner!” the group started yelling in protest and he simply waved them off and started sliding beers down the bar.

The group eventually moved to a bigger round top so everyone could shoot the shit and banter about the outcome of the game. You were tucked into Chris’ side, hands intertwined as he was passionately discussing the importance of Brady’s legacy with a stranger who made the mistake of stopping to talk to him. Your eyes followed the motion of your thumb as it traced small circles onto the back of his. Your other hand under your chin, holding up the weight of your head as your exhaustion started to catch up with you. Chris, although slightly drunk, picked up on your body language and raised your hand to his lips for a kiss.

“Alright, fellas,” he said as he stood up from his seat, pulling you up with him, “the lady and I are gonna call it a night. See you boys next weekend”.

“Chris, we don’t have to go,” you began to protest as he tucked his jacket around your shoulders.

“Mm, ‘course we do,” he replied with a soft smile, “you’re so tired, baby. I can see it in those beautiful eyes”.

You could feel your cheeks turn a light shade of pink as you rolled your eyes at his attempt at laying it on thick. After what felt like a proper 10 minute goodbye session, the group said their final goodbyes, hugs included, and you walked out of the pub hand in hand.

The walk home was filled with the sounds of cars passing by and conversation of what each other had missed in the week prior. Small talk typically felt like such a chore, but with Chris every conversation came naturally. Even when he had absolutely no idea what you were talking about, he would listen intently and ask all the questions as if it was the most interesting conversation in the world.

The lock on the apartment door clicked as you pushed it open and entered. You smiled as you stopped into the middle of the living room, taking in the home you missed so dearly. A soft tapping of toenails against the hardwood made your heart soar as you met the eyes of your sweet pup, Dodger. A squeal left your lips as you squatted down to give love to the sweet boy. Chris always made fun of you when you came home, saying that you always seemed to miss Dodger more than you did him and I mean, he wasn’t entirely wrong about that statement.

Once again lost in your own world, you didn’t even notice Chris leaned up against the wall watching you with a smile.

“Oh my god,” you gushed, standing up, “do you like...like me or something?”

Chris grinned as he crossed the room and caught your belt loop with his finger, pulling you into him slowly.

“Yeah,” his voice had dropped down an octave, “you could say that”.

“Mm,” your tongue swiped across your lower lip and you wrapped your arms around his neck, “care to show me how much?”

The look in his eyes made your core burn. The tension building between you two became too much to handle as you crashed your lips into his. The kisses were messy and you could feel the sense of urgency between you two. His beard scratched against the column of your throat with a delicious burn as he left wet kisses across your jaw and down the side of your neck. Chris’ hands found their way back into the ass pockets of your jeans as he started walking you back towards the direction of the bedroom.

Soon, there was a trail of clothes leading to your bedroom and you felt very sorry for your neighbors. It had been a long time, but Chris always had a way of welcoming you home.

#eeeeeeee #i love soft drunk boston frat chris so much it pains me #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans #chris evans headcanons #chris evans imagines #chris evans fic #chris evans fluff #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans/reader #chris evans/you #fluff #imagines #headcanons

[feliix]

Perfect Score ↠ Han Jisung

↠ Jisung x Reader (feat. Felix)

↠ Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Fake Dating!AU, Childhood Friends to Lovers

↠ Rating: M (18+)

↠ Word Count: 14.9k

↠ Summary: As you return home to work at your local coffee shop, you’re swarmed with couples coming in on lovey-dovey on dates. You’ve always hated the idea of love, but it’s Jisung’s mission to make you change your mind in just two weeks time.

↠ Warnings: idiots 2 lovers, mutual pining, unprotected sex, fingering, soft sex, language, light mentions of marking, mentions of bad past relationships

“That's disgusting.”

You grimace in the most subtle way as you watch the man across the shop press a gentle kiss on the cheek of the woman next to him. For some reason your shop is packed with couples this evening. Not that you’ve been counting, but they’re probably the 50th overly lovey-dovey pair that you’ve seen this just this shift alone. 

To say ‘love’ isn’t really your thing isn’t too far from the truth. Every time you’ve been burned by someone in the past has only made your hope about love deteriorate. Relationships suck. Already been there, done that, and you don’t plan on doing it again.

You’ve always stuck by the same theory; relationships either lead to heartbreak or marriage. And even still, marriage may still end in heartbreak, so what’s the point?

“Stop being so dramatic,” Jisung laughs, pulling you out of your thoughts as he rounds the corner. He’s just in time to catch your snide remark, surely it won’t be the last one you’ll make tonight though. He had just run to the back to get you a fresh package of cups after using up all the stock in the front.

Tonight is busy to say the least. The sun has already set, and it’s the afternoon rush when everyone comes in for their second daily dose of caffeine. And it’s definitely necessary – especially on a day as hot and exhausting as this one. It’s the third day that its been over 100º in a row and the humidity is doing a real number to your hair.

“It’s not dramatic,” you sigh, leaning on the counter behind you as Jisung maneuvers around you, placing the cups on the shelf underneath. In your mind it absolutely isnt. Its a mystery why all these people need to publicly display their affection in a coffee shop anyway...

It’s just the two of you on the schedule tonight. Your boss has always been kind of an asshole, just leaving 2 kids in their early twenties to run the shop by themselves while he went off to do god knows what. There's always been an aching suspicion that he just goes to the bar across the street, since his car is still parked behind the shop but he’s always nowhere to be found. That’s okay though, it's better than him looming over your shoulder and criticizing your technique the whole shift.

“Yeah, whatever you say,” Jisung shakes his head.

In stark contrast to yourself, Han Jisung is quite the hopeless romantic. So much so that he tends to search for love in all the wrong places. Maybe a better way to describe it is that Jisung has a series of flings. He’s not shy to test the waters of any girl he comes across – and there are many, many waters that he’s tested. Lucky you gets to hear all about each one, being his friend and all.

But to your good friend’s demise, his ‘relationships’ never end up working out for very long. Theres always some kind of fatal flaw that’s a means to an end. Whether it was Jisung’s fault or the girls,  it’s always confused you why he could never hold onto something longer than a couple months. Jisung is a great guy, it didn’t make sense.

So great that you have been best friends with him for as long as you could remember. It all started that time in pre-k, where you poured a shovel of sand on his head in the sandbox. Initially, it did make him cry, but he got over it eventually. Ever since, he’s been right by your side, sandy hair and all.

“How much longer,” your eyes roll back in your head, neglecting to look at the watch on your wrist in fear that your shift has a significant amount of time left. The night has been dragging on since you stepped foot in the door and heard the little jingle as it opened. You wouldn’t be surprised if you’d only made it through half your shift thus far.

“Just under an hour. Want to start the closing checklist so we can get outta here?” Jisung offers, reaching for the rag and sanitation bucket at the end of the counter.

Nodding your head, you follow his plan – beginning your mission to clean like a speed demon so you can leave no later than at 8 o’clock on the dot. 

Luckily, closing tonight goes as smoothly as it possibly can. You and Jisung are ready to get out of there at 8 on the dot, thanks to your determination to mop like a mad woman and stock the front as fast as humanly possible. 

The air outside feels crisper than usual. Maybe its because you’ve been locked up in a small room that smells like coffee beans for 10 hours, but you’ll never get enough of the night air. 

“So what are we doing tonight?”Jisung asks, his fingers adjusting the headband that sits just above his forehead.

“I was planning on going home and getting some rest…” you trail off, avoiding eye contact with him. Jisung always goes out after your weekend shifts and never lets up on convincing you to tag along. So you can’t look at him, his eyes are much too convincing make contact with, and you are beyond exhausted from working a double today.

“Gah you’re so boring,” he teases, stopping in his tracks in the center of the parking lot to ruffle the hair on top of your head, “it was an early night we should do something.”

With a deep sigh, you stop as well, smoothing down your hair as a pout forms on your lips. The suggestive smirk settling across Jisung’s face is telling; he knows he’s about to get his way before you have the chance to turn him down or fish for another excuse. So you tilt your head, subtly rolling your eyes as you wait for him to explain what his big plans for tonight are.

“I’ll be at your house by 9.”

Accepting defeat, you shoot him a thumbs up before turning to get into your car. Asking any more questions would take away any time you had to wash up – and smelling like coffee beans any longer is going to drive you up a wall since it hasn't already.

It doesn’t take much time for you to rush home and get ready, and before you know it Jisung is there to pick you up. Only a few minutes late, but that’s just par for the course and right on time in Jisung terms. 

The car ride to your destination feels like a blur with how exhausted you are. So when you end up at your favorite boba spot, you immediately perk up. Those tapioca pearls always manage to give you a second wind.

But when Jisung decides to take a seat at one of the round tables just outside the shop instead of getting back in the car you know somethings up. You were expecting to hop back in the passenger seat of his car, maybe listen to some music for a while and drive around to kill time. 

Initially he doesn’t say much. His legs just bounce hyperactively while he fidgits with the straw of his drink. It’s almost like he’s waiting for you to speak up; his eyes staring down at the cup in front of him instead of sipping from it, lip caught between his teeth.

The energy is off. Not only did you expect to hang out and do something adventurous like Jisung normally would, but now you’re watching his cheeks grow red while avoiding conversation.

Awkward silence becoming too much to bear, you take matters into your own hands. “So how are things going with that girl?”

“Oh yeah,” he sighs, his fingertips drumming along the surface of the table, “she didn’t really work out.”

Unsurprised by his response, you just nod along. Its always to expect since he’s the pickiest person you’ve ever met. His last relationship ended because he thought the girl breathed too loudly. The girl before that had an annoying laugh, and then the one before that didn’t like cheesecake. There always seems to be a laundry list of deal-breakers tied along to each one of Jisung’s relationships, and that is something you’ll always expect.

“You’re probably better off.”

You don’t think much of the words before they leave your lips. Relationships are a ton of work, and you’ve never understood the point of to putting all your effort into something like that. There is a way to just be happy on your own, you know.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” his eyebrows furrowing in response, hands gripping his thighs in anticipation

“You know what I think,” you tilt your heat matter-of-factly, “relationships are kind of just a waste of time.”

“What is with you and all this ‘anti-love’ stuff anyway, Y/N?”

Now thats a response that you are not prepared for. The question catches you off guard, a boba bubble almost catching in your throat leaving you a coughing mess. Jisung chuckles at your discomfort, waiting patiently for you to get it all out and just answer his question, as uncomfortable as it is. 

“I’ve wasted too much time with too many dead-beat guys to even think about love,” you sigh again, your coughing fit subsiding as you reach for your cup once again.

“Not every guy is a dead-beat.”

His words carry a harsh bite to them, almost as if he finds you’ve said offensive. It burns his ego a bit, assuming that you’re grouping him in with all the guys you’ve been with in the past. Which is strange, Jisung should know that he’s different. For one, you’ve never dated him before and two, if he was such a dead-beat you wouldn’t have kept him around for so long.

You aren’t able to talk to guys, or most people for that matter, in the same way that you talk to Jisung. He’s the one you rant about all the assholes to. He knows all the shit that you don’t tell anyone else, he’s like your own personal human diary. Secrets are always safe with him, it's not like he has anyone who would listen to the gossip even if he wanted to tell.

After a minute of silence his expression changes, Jisung’s eyes squinting at you in that ‘I have a crazy idea’ type of way. It’s a look that you haven’t seen very often, and you can’t say that you’ll ever get used to it. 

“Okay then I’ll make you a deal,” he proposes, a glimmering look in his eye that made you somewhat nervous. You never know what you are getting with Jisung, but most of the time his ‘deals’ are on the crazier side.

“What is it?” You still ask although you’re a bit nervous to hear his answer. If his plan is to set you up with one of his delinquent friends or something–

“Be my girlfriend.”

Your eyes widen as the words fall from his tongue, confusion taking over your expression as a small chuckle slips past his lips. Instinctively your stomach tightens, the air around you now feeling a bit heaver each second time ticks on. He can't be serious…

“Your what?”

“Two weeks is all I’m asking for. Be my girlfriend for just two weeks, and I’ll show you that love isn’t as shitty as you think it is.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me” you shake your head, a disbelieving smile stretching wide across your face.

“C’mon Y/N,” he challenges, “it’s two weeks of your life, what else do you have to do? I think it could be fun.”

The quirk of his eyebrow and quick squint of his eyes grabs your attention. He’s serious about this, scarily serious, and you aren’t quite sure how to react to that.

“What’s in it for you?” Your chin falls into your palm as you stare at him, waiting for his response.

“Well for one,” he starts, a sigh leaving his lips, “if it works then I won’t have to listen to you complain about how much relationships suck anymore.”

Just when you don't think you can roll your eyes any further into the back of your head, your own actions surprise you. If looks could kill, the one you’re giving him right now would surely take him out. He doesn’t pay much mind to it though, he’s used to your sass and just shrugs it off.

“This is an awful idea,” you glare at him as if it will change his mind. You’re certain this experiment of his would not change your own. Love sucked, and that was that.

“Two weeks,” his voice carries a taunting tone, his eyebrows wiggling to entice you into his plan. He isn’t going to give up on this easily, you know Jisung. And Jisung always gets his way.

“Fine,” you huff, “two weeks and that’s it. And if my mind isn’t changed you owe me 3 more of these,” you say, picking up your boba from the table and shaking it at eye-level for emphasis.

His bottom lip catches between his teeth, satisfied with your response. He isn’t exactly sure how he’ll manage to pull this off, but he’s definitely up for the challenge.

“We start tomorrow at 8, I’ll pick you up after work.”

Crossing your arms over the table, you bury your head in your arms. This is going to be the most interesting two weeks of your entire life.

“Wait, you're like dating dating the Han Jisung?” Felix’s jaw drops, excitement prevalent on his face as you spill about your night with Jisung.

Felix is the only person in your life that understood your hatred for relationships, other than Jisung of course. Not that he shares the hatred himself, he’s just heard enough about how much you despise being in one to know just how you felt. He’s only heard about it every day for the past several summers.

Felix is your best friend, other than Jisung of course. He’s also the only person in this world that you could bear to work with on a Saturday morning. 

“That's the plan,” you sigh fiddling with the containers on the counter. It’s pretty slow for a Saturday morning, only a handful of customers have come in so far and it's already 11 am.

That’s the thing about working at a coffee shop – and it sucks when it's busy, and it sucks even more when it's slow. At least it isn't a terrible job, you at least have Jisung and Felix to keep you company and that's always worthwhile.

“And for the record,” you turn to look at Felix, a grin still evident on his face, “I don’t think this is gonna change my mind about the love stuff.”

“You know how Jisung is,” his eyebrow lifts, “so you never know. Maybe something could happen.” 

If anyone was surprised that you were dating someone, fake relationship or not, it would be Felix. On top of that, you’re dating Han Jisung. As in, the same Jisung that ended a 3-month relationship last year because the girl ‘smelled too much like peaches’ and it was ‘too good to be true.’ And now that you’re the one stuck with him for the next 14 days, it is only a matter of time until he finds the deal-breaking trait that turns him away from you.

“Okay no, that's exactly why this is only two weeks. If I know Jisung, he’ll be over it before the 2 weeks even ends.”

“Whatever you say,” the pitch of his voice is raised teasingly. You can tell he doesn’t believe this will be just a ‘two-week thing’ by the funny little look on his face. You hate that look, and you hate how Felix always seems to be right.

Subsequently Felix sees a lot of things that you aren’t able to see for yourself. You’ve grown up with Jisung, grown accustomed to his unique mannerisms and behaviors without even noticing. Felix, on the other hand, has a different point of view. 

He’s not in it like you are, so gets to see the way Jisung looks at you; the way he hangs on each and every word that leaves your mouth with a sparkle in his eye. He notices that Jisung longs to make you laugh. And he watches the toothy grin each that grows on your face each time a chuckle breaks through your lips. Felix notices every behavior that you see as nothing more than ‘friendly.’ But who is he to say? So, for now, the information remains tucked away and stored in his mind for a later date.

Your fingers drum on the clean marble countertop beside you, leaning against it as you wait for a customer to come in. All this time with nothing to do is really doing wonders for your imagination; thinking about what Jisung has planned for the two of you to do tonight. Nothing special, you hope, he really doesn’t need to go all out for this. 

The lack of customers and silence that's fallen among the shop is just making it easier for your mind to wander off. It was beginning to make you sick how much you were thinking about Jisung and nothing has even happened yet. It's not like you have any reason to be nervous, but keeping all these thoughts trapped in your thick skull is starting to give you a headache

“He’s picking me up after work.” You blurt it out without thinking much about it. No one is here, you might as well lay it all out there for Felix to know since there's nothing better to do.

“He’s picking you up? Like you’re going on a date?”

“Shut upppp,” your eyes roll at his teasing nature, growing slightly embarrassed by how giddy the thought of this ‘date’ is making him, and you for that matter. It’s just Jisung. And you are just hanging out like you do every other night. There's nothing different about tonight and you’ll be able to prove that to yourself and Felix by the next time you see him.

The rest of you shift flies by – it always does when you work with Felix. Before you know it, the closing checklist is coming to an end, only a few steps left before you can finally get out of here. The clock had just turned to 7:55 pm, but Jisung still isn’t here. Not that you’re expecting him to be on time or anything, this is still the same Jisung you have always known.

What you aren’t familiar with is the nervous butterflies fluttering around in your tummy as the clock approaches 8 pm.  What are you even nervous about? It isn’t a blind date, other than the fact that you have no idea what you’re doing. And it isn’t even a date. It’s Jisung for crying out loud.

Speaking of the devil, the chimes in the front of the shop ring as Jisung passes through the doorway. You don’t see who it is at first, your back turns to the door as you sweep behind the counter. The chimes ringing at this time of night do trigger your fight or flight instincts though, ready to turn to whoever is approaching and give them a dirty look for coming in this close to closing time.

But once you turn around and see Jisung standing in the doorway with a bouquet of sunflowers, your tension quickly subsides. You swear that you can feel your heart skip a beat, heat rising to your cheeks as you try your hardest to form a coherent sentence. It's okay that you aren’t able to, though, the surprised look on your face is enough for his smile to light up the room.

“I’m here to pick up the pretty girl with the espresso stain on her shirt,” he chuckles, his bottom lip catching between his teeth nervously.

Tonight he’s dressed a lot nicer than usual comfy attire; a nice shirt with a pair of dark jeans that hug his slim figure. His hair is a lot lighter too – a vast change from the midnight black strands that normally frame his face. He’s really going all out for this thing – and right now all that you’re wearing a pair of running shorts and a t-shirt with coffee stains down the front.

When you look to your right, Felix is just as stunned as you are. Frozen in his spot as his jaw practically sweeps the floor, he looks at you with wide eyes, his eyebrows raised as a smug expression crosses his face. For a second you contemplate asking him if he’s all set to finish the closing checklist on his own, but before you’re able to speak up he’s already shooing the two of you out the door.

With a goofy grin displayed across his face, Jisung hands you the bundle of flowers, tied together with a delicate white ribbon. You mumble a thank you, still stunned that he showed up here looking like that to take you out tonight. So he is the romantic type, note taken.

“You like nice,” you gulp nervously. It already feels like a date and you haven’t even left the parking lot yet. If this is how things are going to start you had an exciting 13 more days ahead of you...

“So do you,” he smirks, his eyes wandering down to the small brown stains littering your shirt. Eyes narrowing, you read the expression crossing his face – of course, he’s joking. “I brought you some fresh clothes to change into don’t worry.”

Relief rushes through your body as the words leave his lips, followed by a slight pull on your heart strings. Knowing he took the time to think about bringing you something else to wear so you didn’t have to sit in your coffee scented clothes all night made you feel warm in the strangest way. He’s thoughtful, and it's weirding you out – but in a good way.

“So, where are we even going?”

“You’ll see.”

A vague yet interesting, and very on-brand response from Jisung. He’s always been a fan of surprises – as long as he’s not on the receiving end.

The drive to your destination drags on forever. You aren’t quite sure how long you’ve been on your way; between your agile back seat changing of clothes, which you are surprisingly skilled at, and the anticipation coursing through your veins, you’ve lost track of time. All you know is that you’ve been driving along the backroads of your area for at least 15 minutes, and there is nothing around you to indicate that your destination is near.

“This is it.” The car pulls into a small dirt parking lot, dimly lit by some dingy street lights that aren’t doing a very good job at their primary function. It's pretty hard to see what’s around you, no matter how hard you squint and press your forehead to the window to get a better look.

“Where are we?” The question leaves your lips in a worried fashion. Trees surround the parking lot on all three-sides, while the road you've pulled in from occupies the fourth-side. You’re hesitant to get out of the car, but as Jisung rounds the front and opens the door for you, you’re on your way out. He motions for you to hold on as he pops the trunk – returning with a blanket and a reusable shopping bag filled with god knows what.

He still hasn’t given an answer to your question though, and you still aren’t quite sure where you are. If It was lighter out you assume it would be beautiful here, all the greenery dark and shadows hovering over you from the trees.

The bright light from his cell phone flashlight lights up the way, a path on your right

“Hell no,” your arms cross over your chest as you stand still in your place. He’s out of his mind if he thinks you’re going into the woods this late at night. You’ve seen enough horror films, stuff like this never ends well.

“C’mon, it’s not as bad as it looks,” Jisung laughs at your pouting manner, amusement filling his system as you glue your feet to the ground of the parking lot. His puppy dog eyes plead for you to follow him, a hand outreaching in your direction for the taking. You contemplate it for a moment, your eyes narrowing as you ponder the possible outcomes of the situation before you.

“Fine,” you huff as you take his hand in yours.

His hand feels different in yours this time. His long fingers lacing between your smaller ones in the perfect fit that you’ve neglected to notice before. You’ve held his hand before, platonically though. This time it’s platonic too though, right? It’s just a date. A platonic date between two friends. Two friends who are dating on a two week trial period. So yes, it is strictly platonic. Right?

The dirt path doesn’t drag on for too long, but the sounds of bugs ticking and twigs breaking beneath your feet is enough to startle you. Every scared and breathy gasp that  leaves your mouth is followed by a small fit of laughter from Jisung. At least one of you is amused.

But the dirt path soon turns rocky, a clearing becoming more and more noticeable as Jisung’s flashlight brightens the way ahead of you. The rows of trees come to an end as the ground flattens, a giant slab of rock lying beneath your feet. Out ahead of you is completely dark, and until you approach the darkness you don’t notice that you’re just a few yards away from the edge of a cliff. A river lies below the edge, the sound of water rushing fills your ears and calms your nerves. It is quiet out here, peaceful and without distraction.

Jisung stands back as you admire the scenery around you – your own phone flashlight now out and panning around to look at the view. It’s beautiful out here, nothing to worry about but the sounds of the water and whatever Jisung is doing behind you…

You couldn’t have zoned out for more than 2 minutes, but once you turn back around to face him a picnic blanket lies on the ground before you. Snacks scatter the extent of the fabric, a few candles placed in the center

“You really went all out for this, huh?” A nervous laugh leaves your lips before you swallow harshly. Never in your life has a guy ever gone all out like this for you. A late-night picnic at a secret location, fixed with all of your favorite snacks and some candles for ambiance.

“Had to,” he smiles, “it’s our first date.”

You join him on the blanket, grabbing for a bag of popcorn as you sit down. Maybe relationships wouldn’t suck so much if all men treated you like this…

But it’s just Jisung. Jisung who already knows all your favorite things to eat. He’s just trying to be convincing – to prove to you that men take you on dates, do nice things. But stuff like this never lasts. Two weeks from now you’ll be going back to the same old Jisung and Y/N friendship that you’ve always had.

The conversation goes on as normal tonight, he doesn’t make any moves (as expected, it’s Jisung) and you enjoy the view and calm atmosphere with your fake but not so fake boyfriend. You stay out on the cliff for a few more hours before he takes you home. Jisung put a lot of effort into making tonight special, and you appreciate him for that. But even after all his effort, you know that real relationships aren’t like this.

Every guy you’ve dated would try to woo you over in the beginning too. They call it the honeymoon stage for a reason. Things are always great in the beginning, lavish gifts and dates, loving gestures. That kind of thing never lasts. Soon the effort runs out, the guy gets bored of putting the work in, and they end up sleeping with your freshman year roommate. Well, at least that's how it is for you.

The bundle of sunflowers Jisung gave to you earlier on in the night sits on the end table next to your bed. Each time you look at them all you can picture is the goofy grin he sported as he stood at the entrance of the coffee shop. It replays in your mind like a movie. How he dressed up all spiffy just to take you out. How he took you to a spot only he knew about, somewhere so off-site and serene that he knew you’d remain uninterrupted. You can’t help but wonder if he’s using the same old tricks on you that he does to other girls though. If he only knew about that place because he’s taken someone there before.

Not that it matters though, you aren’t his real girlfriend. You’re just on a trial period. But for some reason the thought that he might have brought another girl to the same spot before doesn’t sit well with you.

“Sooooo,” Felix teases, letting his chin fall into his palm as he leans on the counter before him, “how was your date with Y/N?”

Jisung chuckles at his nosiness, he’s sure you’ve already told Felix all about it. There are no secrets left between you two. Even sometimes Jisung felt like the odd man out when you’re all together.

“It was good.”

Jisung keeps his answer short, leaving the rest up to his imagination. He isn’t one to kiss and tell – or to not kiss and tell. Keeping his private life all to himself is something he takes pride in, things are just better that way.

“Just good?” Felix challenges, knowing there is much more that he’s leaving out. His eyes narrow as he waits for his response. You haven’t told him anything about last night, not even where you went after he picked you up. Things are radio silent on your end, which left Felix dying to know what actually happened on your ‘date that wasn't a real date.’

Jisung glances back at him, contemplating whether or not he should spill the beans. It would be kind of nice to have someone else to confide in. Especially since it's always you on the receiving end of his secrets; however, this may be the one secret that you don’t know of.

He chews on his bottom lip pensively, if anyone knows what’s on your mind, it would be Felix. Not that Jisung would ever want to pry, there's just no indication of how you feel about last night, or about him. Before Jisung can even open his mouth to speak, a knowing smirk is spread wide across Felix’s face. It’s that kind of look that makes him nervous – he knows something.

“You like her don’t you,” he muses, rubbing his hands together smooths as the words catch in the air. It’s out there now – and it’s obvious. Well, maybe not obvious, but it's clear as day to Felix – and that is more than enough to make Jisung worry.

“I don’t,” Jisung denies the other boy’s claim, his willpower too strong to give in.

“Oh yeah? So why do you self sabotage every one of your relationships then?”

The words catch Jisung off guard; his jaw clenching harshly as an annoyed breath is forced out of his nostrils. He wants to deny the claim once again, but he can’t bring himself to keep brushing off these feelings that have had a grip on him ever since he was young.

Felix is right too. He does sabotage each relationship that comes his way. Jisung goes out of his way to find something wrong with each girl he dates. He can never admit it to himself, but in the back of his mind, he knows that it's the fact that none of those girls are you. None of the girls he’s ever met could ever match up to all that you are. In his mind, you held the perfect score, and no one else had ever come close.

“It’s written all over your face every time you look at her you know.”

There's no way he’s that obvious... Did his feelings show that much whenever he was around you?

“What do you mean?” Jisung clarifies, the small once of hope bearing weight in his chest that Felix will follow up with a ‘just kidding’ or change the subject. Only the silence that falls on the room is enough of a response for Jisung to get the clue. 

“Just please don’t tell her,” he avoids eye contact with the other boy, hand gripping harshly on the countertop as he stares down at the black and white checkered tile. “I just wanted to see if I could change her mind – about the love stuff, you know?”

The second you find out about Jisung’s feelings all bets would be off. There’s no way you’d let your little arrangement continue, not if either of you could end up hurt. And he knows you only agreed to this because there is nothing between you romantically, it was a deal between two friends. The second feelings get involved, everything gets all mushy and confusing, and Jisung can’t lose you.

Felix bears his weight on the counter behind him, leaning comfortably on the cool glass. “Believe me, I want her to be done with that ‘I hate love thing’ just as much as you do,” he sighs, looking around momentarily before he clears his throat. “Want me to be honest?”

“Please.”

“I think you might be the only one who can change her mind.”

Jisung’s heart skips a beat once the words leave Felix’s mouth. Blood rushes to his ears, pumping like a snare drum as he considers his thoughts. His stomach begins to twist as he considers it, almost confused about what Felix means, but not willing to accept it. You only agreed to fake-date him, you still hate love.

A comfortable silence fills the air, Felix watching him as his lips roll between his teeth, deep in thought. Change your mind. The words repeat in Jisungs head like a broken record. That’s what he’s trying to do, all for the right reasons of course. So that you don’t  have to be so miserable about it anymore. 

But behind those selfless reasons are several smaller, selfish ones. He gets to be with you as more than a friend now, and although it’s nothing more than some kind of test run, he can’t help but feel like this can be something more too. It’d be crazy to ignore the feeling he has deep in his chest, and maybe it's a sign not to.

“Like you think…” Jisung gulps, clearing his throat as the words stutter out of his mouth, “I could get her to fall for me?”

The lack of response that Felix gives is ominous, but the raise of his eyebrows and toothy grin forming on his face needs no words to tell. 

If anyone is to change your mind, it’ll be Jisung.

That night Jisung took you to the drive-in movies. To be quite honest, you couldn’t really recall what was playing, some Pixar film with bugs as the main character if you could remember it correctly. You were far too distracted laughing with Jisung, watching as young kids played around on a grassy patch near his car. The giggles that left his lips each time the little girl waved to him were music to your ears. You never noticed how much he loved kids, how good he was with them.

The image of his hands clasped together as he fawned over the little girl, picking dandelions in the grass and racing to place them by your feet was burned into your memory. The boxy grin that graced his face all night long. The way his eyes squinted from his cheeks, pushing up as he smiled so big. The whispers of the word ‘cute’ each time her pigtails bounced while she toddled away.

Missing the movie doesn't disappoint you. If anything, the memories you've saved from tonight are more than enough.

The next night you were unable to go out, the shop was so busy that you were not able to leave until an hour and a half after your shift was supposed to end. Some punk kid dropped a cup of iced coffee on the floor on his way out and decided it would be best to leave it there without cleaning anything up or letting you know. Maybe if it hadn’t been so busy then you would have noticed the spill before it dried up and there were coffee stains stuck to the tile floors.

Naturally, you spent a good 15 minutes trying to mop up all the stickiness on the floor. But to your luck, Jisung is working with you that night. Once all the customers left the shop he hooked his phone up to the speakers, grabbed your hands, and danced you around the shop. Well, it was supposed to be dancing but it probably looked more like Jisung swinging your arms as you attempted to not trip over your own feet.

It makes up for not getting to go out though, and you’d take a night like that over a fancy dinner any chance you got. 

It’s been 12 days since you became Jisung‘s girlfriend, and as the remaining days decreased, so did your hatred for love. Each night he planned something special. The real kicker was the texts that you get once he makes it home from dropping you off every night. A simple ‘I had a great time tonight’ was enough to make your heart swell and heat rise to your cheeks.

And as you notice your hatred for love and relationships leaving you, you notice another feeling enter your system. Or several feelings…

Things are getting just as sticky as the night when two frappuccinos splattered all over the shop floor, whipped cream and all. Spending time with Jisung like this is bringing some things to the surface you didn’t know were buried in the first place.

Every night that you spent with Jisung over the past 12 days allowed you to see him in a new light. You got to see him on a different level than just friends. You got to see what every girl that fawns over Jisung experiences.

Something about your friendship never let you jump past that barrier. You only see him as a dear friend of yours. Nothing more and nothing less. And now the issue is that...you aren’t sure how you’ll ever go back to see him as such.

You like Jisung as more than a friend, that's for sure. And you know because of that things will never be able to go back to the way they once were.

Maybe you're reading too much into it, but your gut is telling you that you aren't the only one feeling this way.

The feeling of butterflies that pound in your stomach each time you meet eyes with him has to be reciprocated. There is just no way you can be feeling this way and he isn’t.

This isn’t like the feelings you’ve caught for any guy before, this is something else. Every night when you go home you lay in bed, staring at your ceiling with a dumb grin on your face as you think about your time together, about him. About the way his black curly hair falls in front of his eyes each time he looks down and how his smile lights up every room he was in.

These things that you were so blind to before can’t escape your thoughts, and it makes you wonder how many times or things you’ve looked over that make you melt, just like you are right now.

But in just 2 days, this trial-boyfriend period will be over, and you’ll have to go back to being just friends. Each day, each hour, each minute that approaches feels heavier and heavier. Anxiety floods your system each time you think about things being over, or that this arrangement you have isn’t even real.

When you think about the growing feelings you have for him, you honestly can't imagine what your life will be like any other way. What it would be like going back to just hanging out here and there. And what it would be like

You can’t even fathom thinking about what it would be like hearing him talk about another girl again. It makes you sick thinking that there's going to be someone after you, because in just 5 days this will be all over, and you’ll go back to being the girl best friend, nothing more.

Maybe it’s just wishful thinking that Jisung has more feelings for you too. But the glimmer in his eyes as his bangs brush out of his eyes and they land on you tells a different story. When he looks at you it feels like you are the only two people on earth. He sees nothing else but you, and the way your eyes sparkle back at him.

Each day you spend with Jisung after that feels like a wrench tightening the screws of your heart. 14 days is just not enough.

“Earth to Y/N,” Felix says waving a hand in your face.

You must have zoned out, for god knows how long.

“Thinking about Jisung?”

“What?” you immediately straighten your posture and brush yourself off before responding, “N-no…I’m just thinking.”

“Right,” the sarcasm drips from his lips, not sparing you any time to save yourself as he turns away, beginning to wipe off the tables in the front.

For personal reasons, you’ve kept Felix out of the loop during this whole “fake-boyfriend Jisung” thing. It’s better if you keep your feelings to yourself until you figure them out. And although it feels really really strange not giving Felix the intel on what’s going on in your life, you know it’s for your own good.

Once you put what is in your head out into the world, you can’t take it back. And what if all these things that you’re feeling is just a part of the honeymoon-phase. If that even existed anyway… But if all these feelings for Jisung are due to him trying to woo you and change your mind, everything will just fade away as things return back to normal. And then you’ll be left loving him in silence while you watch him blow through relationships like a leaf blows through the wind.

Something in you tells you that this isn't the case, but the small shadow of doubt in the back of your mind keeps you from talking to your best friend about it anyway.

The thing is, you don't have to tell Felix for him to know. Every time Jisung picks you up from work to take you out you shine. Your smile spreads so wide he’s afraid your cheeks will tear. The nervous shake of your fingers as you grab for your belongings as you head out the door doesn’t go unnoticed in Felix’s eyes. He knows you too well to look over things like this, he just wanted to wait for you to say something first.

But now that you aren’t, Felix has decided to take matters into his own hands, asking you about it himself.

“Felix,” you start, waiting for his attention before you pull out a stool, sitting down and motioning for him to follow suit. Quickly he does, a questioning but knowing look evident on his face as the stool squeaks under him. “You know how this thing between Jisung and I is just an experiment or whatever?”

He nods in response, his hand quickly falling into his palm as he listens intently to your words.

“I think I messed up.” Your head is buried in your arms, laid over the tabletop in embarrassment.

“What do you mean?”

His question is more for clarification, he wants to hear you say it yourself. Felix knows that you’re gonna tell him that you’ve already caught feelings. He sees it coming from a mile away, you confirming it is just the icing on the cake.

“Don’t make me say it,” you whine, neglecting to pick your head up and look at him. You can feel the grin on his face. You know he's smirking at you right now, doing his best to hold back a laugh. Finally, you over the ‘I hate love and relationships suck’ thing.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” he sings, quite obviously teasing you while another deep sigh echoes from your chest. You manage to pick your head up, leaning onto your elbows with your chin caught between your palms as you face him.

“I like him.”

It comes out as a whisper, but Felix hears it loud and clear. If you didn’t know better, you’d assume that the smile on his face can't grow any larger, but it does. He jumps up from his chair in victory, doing a funny dance with his arms whooping in the air to celebrate. You’re confused as to why, but you’re too far in your own thoughts to pay it any mind; your head just sinks back into your arms as your forehead presses against the cold metal table beneath you.

“I knew it,” Felix smiles, his happy dance subsiding as he positions himself back down across from you. “I knew this fake dating thing was gonna work.

“Yeah well it really worked, because now I have feelings for a guy that’s never gonna reciprocate them for me.” Your tone is laced with sarcasm, a disappointing ring sounding off on each of your words. You’re too embarrassed to look at the boy sitting before you, worried that if you do all the emotions you’ve been holding onto for so long will spill over and stain your stone-cold image; one you’ve maintained for far too long.

But Felix is your best friend. The only one that you should be comfortable being vulnerable about your feelings for Jisung with; for some reason all you can’t bring yourself to be. Before you can get a grip on your emotions tears are streaming down your face and falling onto the cold metal surface under you in small puddles. 

A sympathetic sigh leaves Felix’s lips as he tries to gain your attention, “Hey.”

Inhaling deeply, you face him – mascara strewn across your face in black streaks and eyes nearly bloodshot. You’ve held this in for far too long. Only a double would tire you out and exhaust you enough to cry on the clock. Thank god it’s a rainy day, no customers ever come in on rainy days.

Or at least, no customers usually come in on rainy days. It's not until you hear the bells on the front door ring that you’re wiping your eyes, whipping around to greet whoever was entering.

And then you see him, standing there as he shakes out his umbrella, a bouquet of sunflowers in his hand.

And he sees you; mascara running down your face and tears staining your cheeks. He’s early. Your stomach turns at the sight of him, emotions not stable enough to handle carry a normal conversation like  

“Y/N,” his voice is quiet, worry dripping in his tone as your name leaves his lips. But you can’t face him right now, not like this.

Your feet move faster than you mind, standing up and rushing to the back to avoid him. Jisung doesn’t follow you, just stands there and watches you walk away, solemn and worried that he’s done something. 

It’s not until Felix is rising from his seat and pacing over to him that he’s brought back to reality.

“Jisung...” he starts, hands coming up slowly to console him, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here right now.”

“Wh-what’s wrong?” His lip worries between his teeth, eyes glossy as he stares at the door you just closed behind you. He’s looking at it intently, mind flooding with worry, wishing so badly that the door will just fly open, and you’ll tell him what was going on. In the back of his mind, he knows that you won’t, at least not for now. Talking about emotions has never been your strong suit, and chances of that changing at this moment are at an all-time low.

Felix is unsure how to answer him, caught in between not wanting to lie and keeping your feelings private. He can’t speak for you; but he’s scared that saying nothing could just make this whole situation worse.

His mouth gapes as he searches for a response to his question, lips opening and closing while he hums to himself.

The umbrella hanging from Jisung’s hand drops with a crash, starling Felix as he jumps at the sudden sound. But before he is even able to speak, the bell to the front door is ringing again, and Jisung is walking away into the pouring rain.

The next day you wake up feeling numb. You’ve received several texts from Jisung the night before, none of which you have the energy to reply to or even look at for that matter.

The guilt riddling your body has become too much for you to handle. You left work last night without even saying goodbye to Felix. He’s a good enough friend and coworker to know that what you’re going through is more important than working the counter at an coffee shop. 

After Jisung left, Felix came back and let you know; he almost had to break down the door to the backroom in order for you to let him in. He told you to go home, get some rest and that you’d talk tomorrow.

But after waking up the last thing you want to do is talk about Jisung, it hurts enough just thinking about him.

Every time you thought about how your arrangement was supposed to end in just a few days you felt sick. You have worked so hard to open up just to build your walls back up again. And now you’re back at square one.

When you agreed to be Jisung’s girlfriend you did not expect to fall for him like this. He’s Jisung for god’s sake. He’s your personal diary, he’s the one who knows all the shit that nobody else does. And he’s the only one that listens to all the dumb shit you have to say that no one else cares about.

Feelings ruin everything. Love sucks, and you knew this before you agreed. You agreed under the circumstances that Jisung could show you that relationships could be fun; not under the circumstances that he would make you fall in love with him,

And the more that you think about it, maybe you were always in love with him. Maybe you always had these feelings for him, but they were trapped in the tight bonds of friendship that your subconscious never let you out.

But none of that even mattered now. The deal had to be off, and you need to distance yourself from Jisung before you are hurt any worse. The longer this goes on the worse that you are going to feel when it's all over.

How are you supposed to go back to normal after this? Like is Jisung thinking that showing you how amazing relationships are, you won't fall for him or something? Or does his true plan consist of making you fall in love with him, just to string you along like every other girl he's dated?

You’re trapped in the never-ending spiraling thoughts, soiling your image of Jisung with each new theory that crosses your mind. None of them are good. All of them paint him as a player, as someone who just used you.

But the little thump in your heart when you notice the sunflowers placed on your bedside table wants your mind to change. Your heart wants you to believe that Jisung feels something too, that throughout this arrangement he has seen a different side to you too – that he’s fallen for you just like you have for him.

It's a knock at your door that guides you out of your thoughts. The repetitive tapping at your front door that drags you out of bed. And when you check your peephole and it's no one else, but your small blonde best friend standing on your doorstep that has relief rushing through your system.

The door cracks open, Felix standing there with an umbrella in his hand – even though it was nearly 100º with clear skies.

“Why are you still in your pajamas? It's noon.”

Suddenly, he pushes past you and invites himself into to your living room. Plopping down on your couch, Felix makes himself comfortable as he waits for you to join. You spin on your heels, an exhausted breath leaving your mouth as you pace over to him, plopping down on the next cushion over.

“Why the umbrella?” Your brow furrows as he hands it over. You take it though, still confused behind the meaning of the object that you're holding and where it came from.

“It’s Jisung’s.”

You nearly drop it as his name leaves his lips. The name causes your stomach to tighten, mouth-drying instantly as emotions well behind your eyes.

“Why?” Is all you can mutter out. Why was he giving it to you, why is he here, and why did he have it?

“You need to bring it back to him.” He says sternly, his eyes locked on you as he waits for you to look back at him. But you’re too focused on the umbrella placed gently in your hands, tracing your finger over every wire and the soft rubber handle.

“I can’t.” Your words come out in a whisper, breath light and airy as you sigh, sinking your body back into the couch cushions. Giving the umbrella back to Jisung will mean that you have to go see him. And if you see him, he’s going to want to talk to you about last night, then question you about why you haven’t been returning his texts. No. You will not be giving Jisung his umbrella back.

“Y/N,” your name leaves his mouth gently, a sigh following it before he reaches for you, rubbing your arm comfortingly before continuing, “I think you need to talk to him.”

“Felix you know I can’t do that.”

You’re serious in your words. Not that you don’t want to talk to Jisung. You most definitely want to – and if you could, you would. But you can’t. There are too many emotions involved. The wound is fresh and seeing him would be rubbing salt right into it.

“Y/N,” he sighs, this time more forceful, like he’s trying to get something across to you but it's going right over your head. “Talk to him. Please.”

“You know I’m going to end up hurt if I do.” Tears well in your eyes as the words croak from your throat. It's dry and scratchy, full of fear and anxiety.

“I think you’d be surprised,” he mumbles, his eyes instantly widening on realizing the words that just escaped. Eyes wide with confusion, you’re begging him to go on, but if he does then Jisung won’t be the only one in deep shit right now. It's not up to Felix to tell you what he knows this time. 

“What do you mean I’ll be surprised?”

“I have to go,” he stands instantly, motioning to the umbrella, “and you need to bring this back.”

With a slight ruffle to your hair, Felix is giving you a supporting smile and waving goodbye. And you’re left alone once again – just you and Jisung’s blue umbrella.

It takes a lot of courage to get ready today. You make sure to take your sweet time rummaging through your closet, flipping through articles of clothing for the better half of an hour. At the end, you opt to go with a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt. There isn't enough energy in your body to put on anything else, and you know you’ll just want to curl back up in bed once you get home. Sweatpants are safe, and safe is just what you need.

No makeup today either. If things are anything like you’re expecting, your makeup will just end up ruined anyway. It's your better judgment to shower though, you’ve neglected to take one after work last night; opting to just bury yourself under your covers as soon as you got back. But today is a new day. And with a fresh shower and your comfiest pair of sweatpants, you are about as ready as you’ll ever be to get your heart broken into a billion pieces. 

Umbrella in hand, you step out onto your front steps, relishing in your last few moments of ignorant bliss before making your way to Jisung’s. You immediately regret your wardrobe decision as the sun beats down on your frame, the humidity making you feel sticky and gross – your favorite pants are  no match for this heat.

But you’re on your way to your destination anyway, the drive feeling longer and more drawn out than normal. Jisung didn’t live that far away from you, but the ride there still felt like an eternity with each theoretical scenario passing your mind. 

Dragging your feet, you make your way to the front steps of his house. You’ve been here a million times, but today is different. From now on, every time you drive past this place all you’ll know is heartache.

You brush yourself off, taking a deep breath before bringing your hand up and pushing the doorbell. The sudden ringing sound startles you, even though you have every indication that it’s coming – you’re just too nervous and jumpy for your own good.

Footsteps approach the door, your stomach tightening more and more with the muffled pitter-patter of footsteps. You’re praying to God that it’s his mom, hoping that Jisung just so happens to be out – even though his car is in plain sight parked just a few meters away from you. Wishful thinking, you suppose.

When the door to his house opens, you struggle to maintain your composure. He’s dressed similarly to you; a pair of sweats and an old sports t-shirt that has definitely seen better days.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

His eyes are sunken in, dark circles dragging underneath his eyes and his lips pulled downwards. He looks like a sad puppy, his dark hair all scruffy and sticking up in each direction – probably from him running his hands through it so many times. 

“I came to give you this,” you extend the umbrella out before you. He nods before taking hold of it, his hand far at the opposite end making sure not to keep his distance. The more you look at him, the more sorry you feel for dodging his texts. He looks like he hasn’t slept a wink, and you’re afraid it’s all because of you.

“Oh...uh, thanks,” he struggles to make eye contact with you, looking down at the object in his hand. 

It’s awkward, uncomfortable, and you can’t seem to find the words to say to break this strange tension between the two of you. He’s acting weird, shifting his weight back and forth but not moving away to close the door. His mind is racing once again – contemplating whether or not to just invite you in or leave it at that.

But with every aching bone in his body, he musters up the courage to lift his head, looking you directly in the eyes. Their dark like his, definitely from the lack of sleep you had the night before. Your mouth is turned downward too; hands fiddling together to try and distract yourself.

“D-Do you wanna come in?” He stutters, stepping aside slowly as he gestures towards his house. He suddenly worries when you don’t respond right away, taking a second to contemplate if this is a good idea or not. Ripping off the band-aid is never easy, but it needs to be done.

“Sure,” is the word that you decide on – hoping that it doesn’t make you seem disinterested or too desperate to talk. Maybe he’s just being kind though. Maybe it’s an empty offer, something that you say when you’re trying to be nice, but subconsciously hope that they won’t take you up on it. Like when you offer to share your food with someone, but you’re really hungry. You do it to be nice, not because you actually want to split the delicious looking burger and fries on your plate.

He leads you inside and to his bedroom. It looks the same as always, but it feels different. It still smells like him though, the comforting woodsy scent of pine and mahogany that he always reaches for. But that comforting scent is anything but comfortable. You’re frozen in place, unsure if you should sit on his bed and make yourself at home, much like every other time in the past. For now you just stand in the doorframe, waiting for him to tell you to take a seat, just like any polite guest would. A guest. You have never felt like a guest in his home before, or around Jisung in general. But that imaginary wall between the two of you is standing tall and sturdy, and suddenly the two of you are reverted back to being strangers.

You watch as he toys with something on his desk, his fingers dancing from object to object and sifting through papers to look busy. The point of it – unknown to you but to him, he’s buying time. Trying to think of the first thing to say, what to ask, or if you even wanted to talk. Maybe you only agreed to come inside to be nice. Maybe you were too worried about hurting his feelings if you said no. But alas, here you are, standing awkwardly in his doorway as he shuffles around his room, his brain flooding with thoughts – but his mouth can not form them into audible words.

“I’m sorry for ignoring your texts.”

Your voice catches his attention, dropping whatever paper he’s looking at now and turning his gaze to you. You’re sunken into yourself, your chest thumping with anxiety as his eyes begin to wander your frame. Not in a ‘I’m checking you out’ manner though; more of a ‘you look so sad and I don’t know what to say to you right now’ kind of way. 

It’s true though, he doesn’t know what to say – which is why he’s staring at you, hoping the right words would just pop up and he didn’t have to use any brain-power at all. He doesn’t want to say ‘it's okay,’ because it's not. You never ignore his texts, and that alone tells him enough about what's going on. You are upset at him.

“What did I do wrong, Y/N?”

His words sound accusatory but his tone is soft, gentle and full of worry. Eyes swollen and looking like they are about to fill to the brim with tears, his sight is focused on you; now not able to look away.

“I-I don’t know…”

Your answer is honest. You don’t know if his intentions are dirty. Yeah, that’s what you thought initially, but looking at him with such hurt written all over his face tells a different story. 

Jisung is silent, unsure of what more he can do or say to make you talk to him. He can’t force you to open up, he never has and he never will – that’s always been his rule. Everything you’ve shared with him has been on your own terms and conditions. Jisung has always been here to be your listening ear, but he never prys.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

His voice is soft, eyes full of sympathy as he holds himself together. Those were the words he has been looking for. Now the ball is in your court and you’ll have to be the one leading the conversation. It’s just what he needed to figure this shit out.

“I-I don’t know.”

“Y/N,” he sighs as he drops himself down onto the mattress, “I shouldn’t have to say this for you to know it, but you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

You do know that. You really, really do. But this time things are different. Is he expecting you to just come out and speak your truth like there won’t be consequences? No, he won’t push you to tell him anything you don’t want to. But the worry in his eyes and clammy hands are begging for you to just let it out so he can stop being in the dark.

You sigh out an ‘okay’ before sitting down beside him. 

Rip the band-aid off Y/N. Quick and painless.

His eyes narrow, almost to a squint, staring right through you in hopes of reading your thoughts. Your expression is nothing but blank as you try your best to gain some sort of composure. Do you just speak up and spill your guts? The words replay in your mind over and over until your thoughts are beat down and misshapen. 

You can picture his face when you say it; disgusted with a trace of disappointment and some confusion spread into the mix. Or maybe he’ll laugh at how pathetic you were, catching feelings for your fake boyfriend.

That’s it. There’s no way you can tell him. It would be much easier to just get up and leave. Tell him to pretend like none of this ever happened and that you needed some time to cool off. A few months maybe, or maybe you could just ghost him entirely. 

“Y/N?”

The sound of his voice breaks you out of your toxic thoughts, and his chocolate brown eyes bring you back down to earth. You can’t just leave him in the dust. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing that exists. Things will be okay, right?

“Sorry, sorry,” you exhale deeply as you calm your thoughts; shifting the nasty scenarios out and accepting that whatever happens after this conversation is your fate. 

“Jisung, I-I guess I wasn’t expecting this boyfriend-girlfriend thing we’re doing to go like this.”

His brow quirks at your words, confusion riddling his expression as his eyes narrow. With a tilt of his head, he’s pushing you to continue, visibly riddled with your choice of words.

“Swear you’ll be honest when I ask you this?” You question him, your hand moving closer to his as you lean in slightly. He’s like a magnet, you can’t help yourself from moving closer; even though the proximity of the two of you is clouding your thoughts and you can feel your heart beginning to swell.

He nods in response to your question, his eyes full of concern as he waits for you to continue, “Why did you ask me to do this thing?”

He knows that a question like this was coming, only if he could have prepared for it. But he didn’t, so his throat is left dry and scratchy as his mouth opens, only to stutter a bit before closing it back up. No coherent thoughts or words are able to escape his lips, just nonsense mumbling that caught himself off guard.

With a deep breath, he closes his eyes, regaining his composure before he can face you again. He agreed to be honest, and if honesty is what you want, honesty is that you’ll get.

“I’m sorry.” That’s all that he can say. 

Oh no. This is exactly what you were expecting before you came here. He’s gonna tell you that he didn’t mean to mess with your emotions, that he felt you catching feelings and got carried away. That he’s sorry that he ruined your friendship and played you like a violin all at once.

“Me too.”

You don’t know why you’re apologizing, but you are. It feels wrong. Absolutely utterly, and undoubtedly wrong. Apologizing for your own feelings is not something that you are okay with. Especially when he made you fall for him like this. Okay so maybe thinking that is giving him too much power, but who the hell takes you out on dates for nearly 2 weeks straight just to laugh about it later. How can he expect you to not catch feelings for him? With his deep voice and fluffy hair that always hangs in front of his eyes, that little giggle he has when he finds something amusing. Everything about him was attractive. And you’ve fallen for it all. Hard.

“Wait, why are you sorry?”

A scoff escapes your mouth unintentionally, but it’s well deserved. “For being the idiot to fall for a guy that was playing her, I guess.”

You can’t look at him any longer, so your eyes fall to your lap, staring at your chipped nail polish and dirty fingernails instead of reading whatever dumb expression he has now. But if you just took a second to look up, you’d notice the widening of his eyes, how his fingers are beginning to shake and his mouth gape. 

“Wh-What?”

“Don’t make me say it again Jisung, I don’t feel like sounding stupid one more time.”

“No no I heard you, it's just,” his eyes slam shut, angry at himself that he let things get this far without keeping you in the loop. 

You’ve been telling him that you hate love for years now. After hearing it so many times, he’d just given up on the thought of you. Maybe if he said something before you went through all those shitty guys things could have been different. But he’s let this go on for far too long, and now you’re the one that was paying the price. 

“Y/N I have feelings for you.”

Your neck nearly breaks with how fast your head snaps up. He’s the one looking away now, his cheeks a bit rosy as he tries to hide himself. He isn’t doing a very good job though, his hair is only shadowing his eyes and you can clearly see the way he’s nervously chewing on his lip; a cute habit you have grown fond of these past couple of weeks.

If he didn’t look like he does right now, you’d assume he was messing around. But you know Jisung. You know his small little gestures and what they mean by now. You know when he’s being serious and when he’s telling a lie. He can look someone dead in the eye and lie to them, but when he tells the truth, he becomes shy and worried that he’s said the wrong thing. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask softly, gently reaching for his hand. The subtle contact makes him flinch, reacting by pulling your hand away. But his eyes meet your sympathetic ones, sparkling just like they always do, and he knows what he wants.

Jisung’s hand reaches back for yours, lacing his fingers through yours before giving your hand a light squeeze. “You hate relationships,” he chuckles lightly, the mood of the room instantly shifting as the laughter leaves his lips. 

“I hated the ones that weren’t with you,” you correct him, but your voice comes across as just a whisper. He’s close enough to hear though, a blushing grin forming on his face as you shyly look away. His heart flutters when he hears it, a million butterflies erupting in his tummy all at once.

“I hated the ones that weren’t with you too,” he coos, his eyes wide and sparkling as he looks at you with such adoration. 

Time moves in slow motion as his hand meets your cheek, your eyes look deeply into his chocolate ones as he moves in closer. As your eyelids flutter shut his tongue runs across his bottom lip, wetting the surface before closing the distance between you. Finally.

And in that moment you’re at peace. Everything you thought you’ve ever hated, love, relationships, and maybe Jisung for a hot second, are the only things that you long for. The 14 days don’t have to be over, and your days no longer have to be counted. When you’re with Jisung you’re happy, you’re comfortable, and you're confident that he can give you what you have always deserved – but have never gotten. 

His lips move against yours in slow, languid motions, his large hands holding you close like he’s holding on for dear life. But you won’t leave even if you want to, not now, not after all this. 

Slowly, Jisung shifts his weight and you move in succession. He’s laying you down on his bed, gently climbing over you without breaking the kiss. Things are becoming more heated now, you can feel it as his hungry lips devour your own. Your chest heaves up to meet his, your back arching off the mattress as his hands begin to scour your body. The heat pooling in between your legs is growing, an aching sensation overwhelming your core as your own hands reach up to rake through his long, fluffy hair. And you can tell he wants you too, the thin fabric of his sweatpants doing little to conceal the growing erection pressing against your thigh. 

You can’t help but let out a steep moan as his hips begin to grind into yours. Needy groans fall past his lips and onto yours as you roll your hips upwards to meet his small ruts. 

In a leisurely motion, Jisung’s body is moving upwards, his knee finding a place between your legs as he brings himself up to a kneeling position. You chase his lips the entire way there, sitting up straight to be sure the contact doesn’t vanish, too consumed by your need for him to leave his lips.

And then his needy hands are running along the waistband of your sweats, fiddling with the tie before breaking your heated kiss. “Is this okay?” His words come out in a whisper, his eyes searching yours for any signs of doubt, but all he sees is lust.

“Yes,” you confirm, out of breath from making-out for so long without coming up for air. The lightheaded feeling taking over you goes unnoticed though, and quite frankly you’re too caught up in Jisung to care.

Quickly, he rids you of your pants, looking back up at you for confirmation about your underwear. With an affirmative nod he’s removing those too, leaving you completely bare from the waist down as he stands over you fully clothed.

But soon he’s ridding himself of his own clothing, his shirt being pulled at the nape of his neck as he discards it across the room. He’s leaning back down to you, hungry for the feeling of your lips. He misses it, even though it's been less than a minute since he’s last felt your smooth lips on his. 

You won’t open your eyes to see, but with the shuffling movements and shaky connection between your mouths you can tell Jisung is stripping himself of any remaining clothing he has on. He’s needy, unable to wait any longer to get down to business, he’s already waited long enough.

You’re the one who breaks the kiss this time, too curious to see what he’s sporting down below for your own good. But you are not disappointed once you see it – he’s long and girthy; the pigment a shade or two darker from his skin tone than the rest of his body.  Your thoughts are wandering, wondering what it's like to have him inside of you; dreaming about what he feels like. Arousal pools at your core, mouth salivating as your daydreams linger.

“Like what you see?” Jisung chuckles. You barely notice that you’ve been staring, eyes wide and focused on the hardened dick before you, which is probably a bit uncomfortable for him. 

“Sorry!” You cringe at yourself lightly, covering your eyes in embarrassment in fear that you just ruined the mood you’ve worked too hard to create.

“Don’t apologise,” he smiles as he grabs your wrists, moving them away from your round eyes. Scrunching your nose in displeasure, you catch your lip in between your teeth, mentally face palming at how weird you’re being.

He couldn’t blame you though, it was taking everything in him not to gawk at you. It was the first time you’ve seen eachother naked. Bathing suits did little for your imagination, not that you had even thought about Jisung this way before.

But he eases your nerves by coming down face level with you, reaching for your shirt and pulling it up over your head. You look at him with wide eyes, taking in each part of him as he caresses your body gently. He’s in awe of you like this. So relieved that you’re finally his, that he has you like this.

Nimble fingers dance down your body, landing at your core as he runs one up your slit, collecting your arousal on his fingertip. An impressed smirk grows slowly on his face, “I can’t believe you’re this wet already,” he hums. “All for me.” 

His eyes remain focused on your center, devouring it with his eyes as his hands hold steady on your thighs. You can’t help but grow slightly embarrassed, dripping with arousal so early on though he’s barely touched you. A lump forms in your throat causing you to swallow thickly – this doesn’t go unnoticed by Jisung.

A concerned expression crosses his face, brow furrowing as he moves his hands upward to settle on your waist. “Hey,” his voice is soft, gentle and full of worry, “everything okay?” 

“Just nervous,” you answer, a fake smile showing on your face to try and combat your own emotions.

It is no secret that Jisung is a bit more experienced than you are in bed. He knows that, you know that, and that is enough to turn you into a nervous wreck. Leave it to your own thoughts to ruin the moment.

“We don’t have to…”

“No!” Your voice comes out a little too eager, a bit loud, shocking Jisung. His eyes widen in response, body jolting from the impact of your tone. “No,” you say more gently this time, “I want to.”

You did want to – you just have to get over your own nerves first. Lucily, Jisung didn’t mind and was willing to guide you through it.

With a reassuring smile plastered across his face, he laces his fingers through yours. As you lock eyes, you nod him onward, giving him the go-ahead to continue. He moves languidly, his fingers moving back down to trace your slit once more. The sensation makes you tense, the nerves tingling through your body making it difficult for you to calm down. 

But with a reassuring squeeze of his hand to yours, you’re taking a deep breath. Closing your eyes as you lie your head backwards onto his pillowcase. The smell of him consumes you, relaxing you effectively as his fingers meet the entrance of your core.

Shivers run through your body as he dips one finger inside. Your arousal acts as a natural lube, letting his finger glide gracefully into you. You gasp at the sensation, eyes rolling back into your head as he begins caressing your walls. His finger moves swiftly in and out of your core, his other hand still locked with yours to guide you through.

With your body finally relaxing, Jisung is able to add another finger into the mix. The extra pressure makes you shudder for a moment, taking a little to adjust to the greater size inside of you. Thankfully the mild discomfort subsides, and he’s able to pump his fingers in and out once more. 

He’s making sure to watch each of your expressions, growing harder and harder just from watching your face contort in bliss. With each of his movements you bite down harder onto your lip, focusing on him and him only. 

“You’re doing so well,” he praises as his thumb rubs circles over your hand soothing you. You can feel your heart swell at his words, heat beginning to rise to your cheeks. 

In one swift motion, Jisung begins to separate his fingers, stretching your walls as his digits move in scissor-like motions inside you. “Fuck,” you mumble, hips jutting forward in reaction. 

A steep moan leaving your lips as he brings his fingers back together, just to extend them once more. Your body is quickly getting used to the pressure, begging for more as you roll your hips.

He can sense that you’re eager from your movements alone. With one final squeeze, his hand is leaving yours. The empty feeling in your palm is unpleasant. But once you open your eyes and notice he’s using it to palm himself, his fingers groping around his length and beginning to pump slowly, that empty feeling is replaced with something else. 

Your mouth salivates with desire, hungry for the feeling of him inside of you. He’s aroused you enough, and you’re too eager to feel him for your own good.

“Jisung,” you moan, “fuck me please.”

His cock jumps in reaction to your words, his chest heaving as his breath catches in his throat. Never in his life did he expect to hear those words come out of your mouth – but he wouldn't mind hearing it again.

“Hmm?” He hums, knowing damn well what you said but being greedy enough to pretend that he didn’t. You whine in response, your legs shaking on the bed in a mini temper-tantrum.

“Please,” you drag out, “please fuck me.”

Your words are music to his ears. He removes his fingers from your dripping cunt, grabbing the backs of your knees to pull you closer to him and hike your legs up over his hips.

“Anything for you.”

Complying to your wish, he lines the tip of his cock up with your entrance. The feeling of his smooth head against your core is enough to make you moan, your head thrown back to expose the soft skin of your neck.

Jisung takes this as an opportunity to leave his own mark behind, leaning down to attach his lips to your skin. You gasp as his teeth graze your skin, his plump lips sucking harshly before his tongue is swiping over the area to soothe it. 

But your eyes open once he’s beginning to pull away to look at you. His eyes are dark, full of lust mixed with adoration, a sigh of relief leaving his chest as he gazes down at you under him. There’s a lot going on in his head right now. Of all the emotions swirling around, the thing he’s most focused on is how lucky he is to have you.

And before you know it, he’s leaning down. Pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, making you smile. One more kiss is left on your forehead before he's pulling back, securing the position of your legs on his hips. 

And then he’s realigning himself with your core, pushing past your entrance and slowly descending into the depths of your pussy. He’s moving slowly, taking his time as he thrusts into you. The delicious stretch is unfamiliar, but it's not uncomfortable – like you were made just for him. A simultaneous groan leaves your lips as he bottoms out, the tip of his cock pressing deep into you on a spot that’s gone untouched. 

He hums a sigh of contempt before pulling back, only to rock his hips into you once again. Your velvety walls welcome him delightedly, soft whimpers leaving your lips once he bottoms out again.

“Y/N,” your name leaves his lips in a low grunt, the bones of his pelvis driving into your skin as he begins to pick up his pace. In reaction you clench down on him, orgasm beginning to loom overhead with each movement of his hips.

Desire fills your senses as you roll your hips over to meet his thrusts. His movements are slow and intentional, making sure to bottom out each time to watch you squirm over his dick. He loves how your jaw drops each time his tip presses against your g-spot, knowing just when he hits it each time.

Jisung’s teeth are barred, sweat gathering at his brow as his dark fluffy hair sticks to his face. He’s trying to hold himself back, the overwhelming urge to finish just in reach, but he doesn’t want to stop. So his hands roam your body to try and distract him, his palms caressing up the sides of your torso as your back bridges into him. The feeling of hot breath fans over your face with each sigh he lets out. 

But the tightening knot in your stomach is threatening to snap with every movement of his hips. It's getting harder and harder to hold on with the power of his thrusts growing stronger.

“Jisung,” you whine, “so close” your hands find his back, fingernails dragging down his spine in attempts to ground yourself. Jisung’s face contorts as your nails pierce his skin, leaving lines of red scratches down the length of his posterior.

The stretch from his length and his rhythmic motions sends your senses into overdrive. Squeezing your eyes shut and grasping onto the sheets underneath you, you can taste the brink of your orgasm. Jisung is focused; his grip on your thighs strong and his face contorted with bliss. But all you can think about is how stupid you could have been if you had decided to just cut him out. What matters is that you’re here with him now, and the thought of that is enough to push you over the edge. 

Your breath hitches in your throat, stomach twisting and turning as your pussy throbs repeatedly around his member. Emotions running high, three words almost slip past your lips, but with the small amount of strength you can muster up, you hold them back. Another time, some time that isn't so lust filled like this one.

Jisung’s thrusts are growing sloppy. His grip on your legs tightening as his lip is caught between his teeth. And with just a few quick thrusts, he’s coming undone inside of you. White, hot spurts of cum paint your walls, filling you up and making you feel so unbelievably full. 

You’ve always felt close to Jisung – he knew everything about you and vice versa; but this time was different. The way his hands settled on your legs, bringing them down gently after finishing. How his eyes are becoming so soft as he looks at you, a lazy grin pulling at his lips. You’ve never felt closer to Jisung as you do in the moment. As his body collapses next to yours, pulling you in and holding you close as you recover from your highs, you’re completely at peace.

“Sorry I got carried away, I guess I should have asked if you’re on birth control still,” he laughs, burying his face into the crook of your neck. 

“Don’t worry, I am,” you chuckle alongside him.

Your naked bodies tangle together, his leg weaving its way through yours to be as close to you as possible. He’s intoxicated by you, closing his eyes as he rests against your body in complete bliss. Now that he has you this close he never wants to let go; and neither do you.

“Can I tell you something?” His voice is soft, whisper like but still holding confidence; his tone never falters.

“Anything.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

Butterflies erupt in your tummy, your heart thudding in your chest as heat rises to your cheeks. He loves you. It's not that friendship kind of love anymore; it's the relationship kind. The same kind that makes your heart skip a beat and body riddle with every emotion in the book. The kind that keeps you up all night thinking about – but also helps you fall asleep, knowing he’ll be there in the morning.

And all of a sudden it seems so stupid that you were fighting those words back in the heat of the moment just a few minutes ago. He felt it too, you always knew that.

“I love you, Jisung.”

Being in love is a dumb concept. All guys suck, relationships are stupid and love is a social construct that you didn’t feel like conforming to. There was absolutely no one that you would waste your time on, until Jisung came around. What you had been looking for your entire life has always been right infront of your eyes – you were just too dumb to see it.

Maybe love is alright, after all.

‘Perfect Score’ is copyright 2020-2021 @chaangbin, all rights reserved. Please do not repost on any platform or translate without permission.

↠ A/N this fic has been rewritten/reconcepted from my previous BTS fic Crush Culture.

#stray kids smut #han jisung smut #kdiner #kwritersworldnet #stayracha #kafenetwork #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #han jisung #jisung x reader #jisung smut #jisung fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #han jisung x reader #skz jisung fanfic #jisung fanfic

[recklessmark]

PLEASE PLEASE WRITE A CHEATING ANGST WHERE MARK IS BEING SUCH A JERK ABT IT EVEN THO Y/N CATCHES HIM CHEATING ON HER AND ALSO MAKE THE PERSON MARK IS CHEATING WITH MEAN TOO, those stories are really the best kind of angst - anon ❤️

words count: 1.2k

warnings: angst, cheating

a/n: i have no mood for angst now i’m so sorry. this is not very miserable at all since i refused to let y/n cry pathetically in front of douchebag mark 😡 but hopefully you’ll like it.

you take a sip of your chardonnay, the other hand is still busy scrolling on your phone. your face puts on the best do-not-talk-to-me look while your fingers typing on the screen with a fast speed.

y/n: where are yo-

no, you delete the sentence.

y/n: can you pick me up after work?

delivered.

your fingers idly tap on the bar counter, flashing the bartender an encouraging smile as if you’re not currently having murder on your mind. after about less than 5 minutes, your phone buzzes on the marble surface and you take it in your hands again.

mark: i’m having meeting, i’ll probably stay over at my office either.

your lips curl into a crooked smile. executioner style.

y/n: you better sleep with one eye open tonight.

y/n:

you bite your bottom lip, trying to keep your composure and delete the yet-to-be-sent message. all you’re seeing is red now. mark lee, your lovely boyfriend has the audacity to tell you he’s having a meeting. a two people meeting, one man one woman, in a hotel. little does the two-timing, cheap-lying wannabe know that you’re sitting at the bar of the hotel he takes his side chick in. and you have to clarify that either you and your friends have caught him hang out with other women multiple times but you, a faithful girlfriend, brainlessly believe in him and maybe he will change. the only thing has changed ever since is his loyalty to you, wondrously decreases.

you leave a tip under your glass and jump of the stool. you turn at the corner, walking inside the hotel building. unfortunate for mark is that you have some work here, otherwise you couldn’t catch the sight he wrapped his arm around a girl and walked into the hotel. but work can be done later.

“good evening, how can i help you?” the receptionist greets you politely and you give her a smile. “y/f/n y/l/n, i have a business meeting with mr grey.”

the woman nods and types something on the laptop while you rake your eyes around the building. “floor 8, room 805, ms y/l/n.”

you smile in acknowledgment and turn around to walk away. “oh,” you put on a fake gape and glare back and the receptionist, “may i ask where’s mr lee’s room, i have to take something from him. mark lee please.”

she looks confused but obliges your command anyway. “floor 8, room 802.” you give her a “thank you” and stroll toward the elevator. god must be unpleasant with mark so that his room is on the same floor with yours. you take your phone out and decide to reply the previous message of him.

y/n: i have a meeting at imperial building either, we can go home together.

delivered.

adrenaline and rage rushing inside your veins as the monitor screen displays the red number 8. you take your steps slowly, the sound of your heels clicking against the floor reverberates around the empty floor.

801-805

seeing the gold banner on the wall, you turn at the corner. your head dizzy as you think about what’s happening inside the 802 room. standing in front of the wide wooden door, you decisively press your finger on the doorbell. just once and patiently wait for someone to open the door. although every room is soundproof but you can hear a small voice from the inside after about two minutes, you’re not complaining though, you have big heart for patience.

a ‘genuine’ smile plasters on your face as the door flings opened, revealing a woman- your coworker surprisingly and she only has a towel wrapped around her body. “hi,” you say and walk inside before she could process anything that’s going on. “where’s mark? mark lee.” you ask and opposite of your nonchalance, she makes a quite smart decision to throw a tantrum.

“what the hell y/n?! if you know he doesn’t even like you anymore why are you here? he will never go home so don’t cry and beg for it!”

“where’s ma-“ you calmly repeat yourself and suddenly you see your boyfriend gets out of the bathroom, with a towel wrapped around his hips either. his toned chest and abs look nice but they’ll be better if there’s some bullets shot through. “oh mister executioner, i was wondering where you are.”

mark gapes as he sees you, apparently hasn’t read your new message. he heard haven - his side chick was yelling and he was curious what she’s so frantic about. and now he understands.

you sit down at the cafe table and cross your legs. “you may speak now.” you flash him a reluctant smile.

“speak what? he has nothing to explain-“

“look,” mark cuts haven off and starts his meaningless explanation, “i don’t love you anymore, you’re always busy and your spare time is for work either!”

“my spare time is for work?!” you exclaim, “you are the one who fucking cancel all our dates and hangs out with your side chicks! you think i’m stupid that i’m totally clueless about what you do behind my back?” your voice is shaky yet you try to keep it as steady as possible. you’re not going to cry in front of him and his bitch.

“you call who’s a side chick?” haven yells, pointing her finger at you and you dart your eyes at her, “i’m not talking to you, don’t let me lose the tiny respect i’m still having for you. we’re both women and we work together, i don’t want to be rude.”

“you’re fucking fake as hell-“

“shut up,” mark shouts, making the woman shut her mouth and then turns back to you. “don’t act like you’re not flirting with other men at work, you’re a whore!” he says loudly and you’re practically speechless.

mark calls you a whore.

“since when i flirt with men?” you ask in a calm, quiet tone. you have completely no idea what he’s talking about because you’re certain that you only keep a professional and friendly relationship with any man you know except of mark.

“haven sent me a lot of photos of you and other guys,” he remarks and now you understand, your eyes give your shameless coworker a death stare as she’s avoiding your gaze. “who has the interest in this affair first?”

“me,” mark responds. now he knows how to he honest. “i like her first.”

you let out a chuckle unexpectedly, “so you like hannah, sophia, iris and my best friend as well?” it’s unbelievable that you still have faith in this man even though he hit on your best friend once and she’s already warned you about it.

as mark can’t say anything to defend himself, you stand up, “i’ll pack up your things and send it to your address. don’t ever walk into my place again.” you give him the last peck on his thin lips and walk away but not before giving your coworker a reminder.

“you’ve heard what i said, i hope you’re not the one who chooses to be stupid now.”

slamming the door close, you let out a heavy breath, feeling you’re about to stumble on your weak knees. you love mark so much that it blinds you, no matter how many times you saw him with other women, you still pretended to be clueless. you keep him beside you since you think that he will change but it’s just your one-way deduction which unfortunately could not be true. you hold back the tears in your watering eyes, you will cry when you’re home, not before you get your work done.

#mark lee #nct mark #mark blurbs #mark boyfriend #mark imagines #mark lee imagines #mark lee scenarios #mark scenarios #nct imagines #nct mark lee #nct x reader #mark x reader #nct angst #mark angst #nct drabbles #nct u scenarios #nct scenarios #mark lee angst #requests

[nomsugayoongi]

Recurring

Pairing: Jungkook X OC female

Warnings: None yet.

Synopsis: Jungkook meets the girl of his dreams...but the problem is exactly that. She's in his dreams.

Note: So I had this really bizarre idea for a fluff fest (and eventual smut fest because it's JK and I can't help myself) It's written and edited on a phone so forgive any mistakes and don't be afraid to let me know what you think.

"Huh?"

Jungkook looked around. He didn't know this street. Nothing looked familiar. Not the tall, grey buildings, not the neon lights casting colourful shadows on the dark pavement, nothing. He frowned, eyes scanning the signs on the building right beside him. It was one of those 24 hour convenience stores. The lights were on but he couldn't see anybody inside. No cashier behind the counter. No customers. He had no idea what time it was. Come to think of it, he didn't actually have any idea about anything. He felt a splash of water hit his face and glanced up at the dark sky. No stars. No moon. Just....black. The glow from the street lights cast faint beams and highlighted the beginning drops of rain. He looked down at the pavement. He didn't have shoes on. His bare feet looked strange against the concrete but he couldn't feel the cold ground. His frown deepened as he scraped his foot lightly against the path, expecting to feel the rough texture but feeling nothing. The rain started coming faster, droplets hitting the back of his neck as he stared down at his feet. He wasn't afraid. Even in this strange situation, with not a soul in sight, there was no fear. Just curiosity. He looked either side of him then down the dark street ahead. There was something glowing at the end of the street that piqued his interest. A soft, warm ball of light that flickered slightly even though there was no wind.

He started walking, the rain coming down harder, huge splotches soaking through his t shirt yet he didn't feel particularly cold. He looked in the windows of the closed shops as he walked past, the silhoutte of the items in the window seeming even darker against the faint light bouncing off the glass. It was so quiet. No traffic sounds, no voices. Just the sound of the rain hammering against the pavement. As he approached the end of the street, he squinted at where the light now seemed bigger and brighter. Pure darkness spanned out in front of him, but it was moving, shimmering and rippling as the rain hit the surface. Water. A lake or something. He couldn't tell how big it was. The darkness of the water sort of blending into the darkness of the night and made one big horizon of black. As he approached the edge of the water, he noticed that the ball of light that had caught his attention was a gently swinging lamp hung inside a gazebo. A rickety looking wooden Jetty connected the floating gazebo to the embankment and he quickened his pace to get to it, mainly because the rain was now hammering down so hard that he was drenched from head to toe but also because the soft glow of light against the stark backdrop of darkness was very inviting. He made his way up the jetty, hearing the wooden slats creak and groan under his feet then smiling as he reached the gazebo. It was cute. It seemed....out of place. An octagonal, wooden structure with a slate roof and half open sides. Benches ran around each edge, padded with thick, comfy looking cushions. A lantern hung from the center of the roof, swaying slightly above a small table. It really was out of place. It looked brand new, like something you'd see in the garden section of an IKEA catalogue. He wondered whether he was ok to sit since he was wet through but it was literally the middle of the night and there wasnt a soul around, so he sat, picking the edge closest to the open water and facing out so he could watch the rain bounce off the water's surface. He liked the overlapping circular ripples it created, like an intricate pattern on the glassy surface. It was nice. Absolute silence apart from the rain and the sound of his own steady breathing. He felt calm. Peaceful. Content even. Happy to just sit in the darkness and listen to the rain. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, the smell of the water and fresh rain causing a small smile to play around his lips.

"Hey. Soggy boy. What you doing in my dream?"

His eyes snapped open and he looked around wildly. "What the hell?" He muttered, confused. Stood at the entrance to the gazebo was a girl, her arms folded across her chest as she surveyed him. There was no way she could have snuck up. He would have heard her footsteps on the crappy old jetty. "Where did you come from?" He frowned, looking around with bemusement. "What do you mean where did I come from? It's my dream. Where did you come from?" She retorted. He looked back towards the street where everything was still exactly the same. No people. No sound. "I was over there." He muttered, pointing. "Wait...dream?" He questioned, completely confused. She nodded. "Yeah. This is my dream spot. I've been here loads of times. Want to tell me why you're crashing my dream? And why you're dripping on my cushions?" She said, arms still folded expectantly. "It's raining." He said stupidly. "I got caught in it. Wait...why aren't you wet?" He asked, suddenly noticing that she was stood among the falling rain but was bone dry. "It's my dream." She repeated slower, as though he was kind of dumb. "I decide what happens. I didn't decide on you though. Why are you here?" She asked, a frown creeping between her brow. He shrugged, still looking around curiously. "Dunno. Are you sure it's your dream? I think it might be mine." He reasoned. That would make sense. Not knowing where he was, the bare feet, the body temperature rain, the entire lack of life signs. "It's definitely mine." He muttered, more to himself than to her. "Yeah, cause I went to bed after practise and woke up here...except I didn't wake up. I must still be asleep. Huh! That's pretty cool." He said, a slow grin spreading across his face at the idea of being aware of his own dream. "Excuse me. Soggy boy. If it's your dream then why am I in it and why are you having it in my dream space?" She asked. He shrugged again, finally looking at her. She had long dark hair that was poker straight and impossibly shiny, it fell around a cute face, huge, sparkly eyes, button nose, pouty lips. Good cheekbones. She was short but curvy. Her expression displaying her curiosity. Definitely his dream. She looked like a strange Mish mash of all the things he liked in a girl. She was cute. Very cute. "Does it matter if it's your dream or my dream? Either way, it isn't real. Whoever is dreaming will wake up at some point and it'll end anyway. Why waste it trying to figure out whose head were in?" He reasoned. She nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "Yeah I guess. I'm just...not used to anyone being here." She shrugged. "Well I'm not here technically." He mused. "Neither are you." She hummed, studying him curiously. She'd dropped her folded arms and had taken a seat on the bench opposite his. She was staring at him intently. "You got a name or should I just keep calling you soggy boy?" She asked. "Jungkook" he smiled. "Huh?" She said, eyebrow raised. "Jungkook" he repeated. "Why the face?" She shook her head, still looking a little bemused. "That's not an English name." She muttered. He chuckled, now also looking bemused. "Why would it be? I'm not English." He replied. "But you've lived here a while? Your accent." She muttered. "Lived where? What accent?" He frowned. "In England." She stated. He chuckled again. "What are you talking about? I don't live in England. I've never lived in England. I barely know how to speak English although I've been learning for years. English is hard." He mused. "But you're speaking English now." She exclaimed. He frowned, laughing. "No. I'm speaking Korean." He said slowly. She looked like her head was about to explode. "No. You're definitely speaking English. I understand you. How would I understand you if you were speaking Korean?" She said, puzzled. "YOU'RE speaking Korean." He frowned. "EH? I'm speaking English. I wouldn't be able to speak Korean if my life depended on it, let alone carry out a whole ass conversation with some soaked stranger in my dream gazebo." She said defensively. He couldn't help but laugh. As far as dreams went, this was by far one of his most

interesting. "Ok. So you're speaking English. I'm speaking Korean...yet we understand each other. Cool." He smiled. She continued to look confused. "Ok so....Jungkook right?" She asked. He nodded. "Are you from Korea?" Again he nodded. "And to you it sounds like I'm speaking Korean?" Another nod. "Hmmphhh. I've had some pretty weird dreams before but this one takes the cake."

It felt like hours passed as they talked. He found out her name, that she was 2 years older than him and English. She worked in a hospital during the night and slept during the day. He told her about himself, the band, his band mates, he touched on what his life was like but didn't go into it much. It was nice to just talk to someone, even if he had to dream them up to do it. Without him even realising, the darkness surrounding them had begun to melt away, the sky lightening into colourful purples and eventually soft pinks as the sun came up. He didn't notice when the rain stopped or the silence gradually giving way to the sound of chirping birds. He was too engrossed in conversation to pay attention to his surroundings. He'd liked the sense of solitude when he first got here but quickly preferred having someone to talk to. She was attentive and interested, listening and asking questions, laughing when he made a joke. He felt...normal, which was nice. He was almost disappointed when she pointed out that time was almost up. He looked around, surprised. "When did daytime happen?" He frowned. She chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Somewhere between your pressures as an idol and my frustrations at work." She shrugged. He gazed at the water, now noticing the lush green trees that surrounded the embankment, the colour of the sky, the sparkly surface of the water. "Wow. This place is beautiful." He muttered, eyes skimming his surroundings in awe. She smiled, nodding slowly. "It's my favourite place." She said softly. "Where is it? Is it real?" He questioned. Nothing about it was familiar to him. "I don't know. I've never actually been. I just...dreamed it once and liked it so I kept coming back. A lot of my dreams happen here." She sighed. He nodded thoughtfully. "I hope I come back." He whispered. "Yeah, you didn't get to try any of the cool dream stuff." She chuckled. He raised an eyebrow, pulling his eyes from the beautiful scenery to look at her. "What cool dream stuff?" She rolled her eyes again, making him feel like a rookie. "Y'know. The stuff you can't do when you're awake. Flying, floating, changing stuff, making yourself different. It's your head. Your dream. You control it. Once you realise you're dreaming, the laws of the universe become more flexible. Dreams don't care about gravity or continuity. Your head. Your rules." She explained. He looked at her wide eyed. "Really?" He muttered. She laughed, her laugh was musical and made him feel warm. "Mmm hmm. The trick is to realise you're dreaming quickly, gives you more time to play." Her smile was childlike, eyes twinkling with excitement. It was infectious, provoking his own giddy smile. "Is there time now? Quickly?" He asked. She hummed, looking at the sky. "Don't think so. Look." She pointed upward, his eyes followed. The sky seemed to be fading. He blinked a couple of times, trying to focus but everything was blurring. "No. I'm not ready yet." He frowned. He gripped the cushion in his fists, trying to hold on. "I want to stay." He heard her light, musical laughter but it sounded further away. "I hope you're here next time. See you, soggy boy."

Jungkook awoke, blinking rapidly as he looked around. He was in his bedroom. He sat up, frowning, his stomach still churning. He rubbed his eyes with a sigh. Of course he was in his bedroom. Where else would he be. Still, that was some dream. He looked at the familiar surroundings feeling almost a pang of sadness. "That was a good dream." He whispered to himself, feeling almost silly that a small part of him was already hoping to go back.

#bts fanfic #jungkook #jjk fluff #jungkook x oc #jungkook story #jungkook smut

[lillupon]

AEV Deleted scene(s) immediately following the events of chapter 21 + commentary

I fiddled with the idea of giving AEV minwon a long talk followed by a smutty ending, but I ultimately decided to scrap it. Their relationship is too complex to neatly tie up all the loose ends within a chapter, or even two. Attempting to do so would just needlessly drag out the fic; it’s really material for a sequel. Mingyu and Wonwoo have been apart for many years. During their separation, they’ve grown and changed as individuals, and they will need time to re-learn each other. There are many insecurities regarding age and experience to address, and they will have to reconcile who they were with who they have become. There’s a lot they need to unpack before they get back together and I don’t want to write that lmao (ah… the real reason appears… it’s too much work and I’m tired ;w; writing longfic is hard). Anyway, I think the end of chapter 21 was an appropriate place to close.

In the bonus below, they fall quickly in to bed together because I was being self-indulgent. But I’m not really sure if it makes sense for them to pick up right where they left off and bang in the car. At the same time, they’ve never been able to keep their hands off each other, so… I dunno! If you like the idea of them fucking, you can accept it as canon. If you like the idea of them taking their time, talking things through, that works too.

I will leave it up to your imagination <:

What happens next...

They kiss! Right there, in public, where anyone could walk by and see them. Because it doesn't matter now—they're both adults. Mingyu is no longer his student, hasn’t been for five years.

The kiss starts chaste at first: two people who have been separated for years, unsure of how they will fit together. Their mouths meet, Wonwoo's lower lip slotting between Mingyu's. For a brief moment, they part. And then they're kissing again, and each time, their kisses grow longer and deeper. Mingyu cups Wonwoo's neck in his palms, hands sliding back to tangle into short locks. A firm yet gentle grip tilts Wonwoo's head. Wonwoo moans, and it flips the switch on everything. 

Mingyu's tongue delves into his mouth. His body awakens under Mingyu's touch, fire surging in his veins and arousal roiling between his legs. They're in public, but Wonwoo can't help himself: the first dribble of slick leaks free. He can tell the exact moment Mingyu catches scent of it. A growl rips through Mingyu's chest; Wonwoo can feel the vibrations of it. 

They don't even make it as far as his apartment. Mingyu slides into the backseat of his car, Wonwoo slipping in after him. It's reminiscent of all those years they had sex in a Walmart parking lot. Except this time, Wonwoo is the one who initiates. He's the one who presses Mingyu against the angle of the seat and door. He makes himself at home between Mingyu's legs and kisses him with all the hunger and passion that he has tamped down for years. 

Meanwhile, he's fumbling with Mingyu's belt. The heel of his palm bumps against Mingyu's straining erection. Finally, he works the belt free. Pops open the button. Yanks down the zipper. He jams his hand down the front of Mingyu's pants, both of them breaking the kiss to moan. The burning hot and solid heft of Mingyu's cock feels so good in his hands. It's even better in his mouth. 

Wonwoo wastes no time closing his lips around the head of Mingyu's cock, moaning as the salty taste of precum bursts across his palate. He kisses and licks and slurps, drinking up the ambrosial liquid bubbling up at the slit. And then he swallows as much of Mingyu's cock as he can down his throat. Above him, Mingyu groans, hands flying to Wonwoo's hair and hips jerking. There's a thunk as his head falls back against the window. What Wonwoo can't fit into his mouth, he curls his fingers around. Sheathing his teeth, Wonwoo begins to bob his head up and down. Every time he rises, he swirls his tongue around the head of Mingyu's cock. 

Mingyu is barely restrained energy beneath him: his stomach is taut as a drum. The muscles of his thighs flex and release and shake with tension. Mingyu plays with the short hairs at the nape of Wonwoo's neck, low murmurs of praise punctuated by groans when Wonwoo sucks and licks him just right. 

Wonwoo is high with the knowledge that he is bringing his alpha this much pleasure. His head is blissfully empty of everything except for the sound of Mingyu's moans and the stretch of his mouth around Mingyu's cock. 

"Fuck, I'm close," Mingyu grits out. Wonwoo responds by stuffing Mingyu's cock down his throat. Mingyu's hand on his hair tightens, keeping him in place. Tears spring to Wonwoo's eyes. Mingyu's shaft goes rigid on his tongue and then begins to pulse hot and thick spurts of come down his throat. 

Wonwoo, moaning, swallows and swallows. There's so much of it. It spills out the corners of his mouth. Under his hands, Mingyu's hips spasm, and all of it is so hot that Wonwoo can't help himself. Without a single touch to his cock or hole, he begins to come, making a mess of his briefs. Wonwoo pulls off Mingyu's cock with a wet pop, cleans it up with laps of his tongue. Doesn't let a drop of come go to waste. 

Mingyu groans. “God, how are you this fucking per—" He cuts himself off and hauls Wonwoo up by the collar and kisses him, hard. 

They make it back to Wonwoo's apartment, the edge of their hunger slaked just enough to make the commute. Mingyu can't keep his hands off him. Kissing and mouthing at Wonwoo's neck and jawline and generally being very distracting, as Wonwoo fumbles for his keys. He's not in heat, but it sure as hell feels like it. At this point, his hole is so ready to be filled that it hurts. Slick drips down his inner thighs. Wonwoo wants to cry, he's so frustrated by his stupid door. Mingyu's making the task even harder by setting a proprietary on his ass, finger slipping between his asscheeks to rub at his clothed hole. Mingyu's grinding softly on him; Wonwoo can feel the hard ridge of Mingyu's erection on his hip.

Mingyu lays him down on bed and undresses him. Tugs down his trousers and finds out that Wonwoo has soiled his pants. "When did this happen, hm?" 

Wonwoo, embarrassed, throws a forearm across his eyes. “While I was sucking you," he mumbles. 

It isn’t long before Mingyu is pumping three fingers in and out of Wonwoo's ass. His other hand plays carelessly with Wonwoo's cock.

Mingyu still knows exactly how to touch him, how to make him squirm. His hips swivel of their own accord, bearing down on the fingers inside him. 

Wonwoo is lying on his stomach, a pillow beneath his hips, when Mingyu slides into him. Wonwoo reaches behind him to grab Mingyu’s ass, forcing him closer, urging him to go deeper. 

"So good," Wonwoo moans, voice thick with pleasure. He needs to know: "Is it good for you too?" The words are stuttered, punched out of him with each thrust.

Mingyu drapes himself over Wonwoo's back, planting a forearm by his head so he doesn't completely smother Wonwoo beneath his weight, but Wonwoo wants to be smothered. Mingyu drops a kiss on his shoulder. "Yeah," Mingyu breathes. "S'good for me too. You feel so good."

Their first fuck is hard and fast and exactly what Wonwoo needs. Mingyu ends up hauling Wonwoo up onto his hands and knees to better pound him. He digs his fingers into Wonwoo’s waist, pulling Wonwoo onto his cock every time he plunges inside.

It isn’t until their next round that they slow down. Mingyu lies atop him like a heavy blanket, his groans and ragged breathing hot against Wonwoo’s ear. He fucks Wonwoo with slow and deep rolls of the hips. Under him, Wonwoo has fallen apart into a moaning mess. 

His whole world narrows down to the place where they are connected. He swears he can feel it, the pounding of Mingyu’s heart against his back, the way his own heart beats in resonance. He can’t believe how good it feels to have Mingyu inside him, around him. It’s overwhelming. Wonwoo’s eyes go hot with tears. He buries his face into the sheets below. The next moan that leaves him almost sounds like a sob. 

Mingyu stops moving. Nuzzles against the nape of Wonwoo’s neck. “Hey, are you okay?”

Wonwoo nods. Doesn’t trust his voice. 

“Wonwoo?” Mingyu tries again. 

Wonwoo exhales shakily. “I’m okay. It’s just a lot. But in a good way.”

Mingyu hums an unconvinced noise.

“It’s good, I promise. Oh, god—please don’t stop…” 

Afterwards, they lie curled on their sides, pressed chest-to-back. Mingyu’s knot is lodged inside him. 

“I swear,” Mingyu says, nuzzling his neck, “I just wanted to talk to you, but you are irresistible.”

Everyone can smell it on Wonwoo when he goes to work the next day: an alpha's claim. No one mentions it because as teachers, they are nothing if not tactful. But Wonwoo catches the subtle flaring of their nostrils as they detect a new scent on him. Some of the nosier teachers even watch him as he limps down the hallways, wrecked by Mingyu's knot. 

They get their honeymoon. Mingyu fucks him over every available surface in his apartment: in the shower, over kitchen counters, up against a wall, over the back of a couch. Mingyu even holds Wonwoo suspended in the air as he fucks him, Wonwoo's legs wrapped around his waist. The position has Mingyu's cock reaching deep, and the display of alpha strength has an orgasm shaking out of Wonwoo within minutes. 

But as amazing as the sex is, what Wonwoo loves the most is the aftermath: Mingyu holding him and kissing him softly. Wiping him down with a washcloth and then carrying him to the bathroom. Mingyu prepares for them a post-sex meal. Even feeds him.

They spend a lazy Sunday afternoon together. Wonwoo's belly is pleasantly full from the lunch Mingyu had made: soy-glazed pork belly and stir-fried vegetables on rice. 

They're lounging on the couch, Wonwoo curled up against the arm of the sofa with a book in hand. Mingyu has fallen into a food coma and is using Wonwoo's lap as a pillow. Mingyu isn't even doing anything—blissfully asleep—and he is still distracting. Wonwoo has read the same sentence in his novel twenty times. 

With a sigh, he tucks a bookmark between the pages and lightly tosses the book onto the coffee table. He gazes at Mingyu, eyes following the straight slope of Mingyu's nose down to his lips. The years have been kind to Mingyu, turning him from a boyishly charming kid to a devastatingly handsome man. He is truly the alpha of Wonwoo's dreams, and Wonwoo thinks, with a thrill of excitement-fear-anticipation, that he might be able to fall in love with Mingyu, if he hasn't already.

#aev bonus

[peakyswritings]

Black Widow

Luca Changretta x fem!reader

Requested by: @lilywinchesterlove

Summary: Luca thinks he has finally found the one, but what happens when finds out that she hides a deep, dark secret? Eventually, the truth always comes to light

Warnings: mentions of abuse, mentions of murder, mentions of death, drinking, swearing, angst

A/N: this took really long, but I made it! I changed the request a tiny bit, I hope you like it!❤️⭐️

The gif is not mine, credits to the owner

Long dresses, neatly pressed suits, bright jewellery, alcohol flowing. Luca had never liked big parties. Despite his luxurious lifestyle, those ostentatious displays of wealth weren’t exactly his cup of tea; not to mention the fact that all of those strangers wandering through his house made him extremely uncomfortable. He’d much rather spend time with his family, or his closest men, instead of taking part in those boring business talks with men who took a despicable pleasure in showing off both their richness and their trophy wives who, in turn, were engaged in an endless competition. But even his birthday was a way to expand his business and make new alliances.

Nevertheless, that night his mind was occupied by something else, way more important than the middle-aged man who was bragging about his new Bentley. He was on edge, absentmindedly taking frequent looks around the room, waiting for Matteo’s face to appear in the crowd. After almost two weeks of waiting, he was about to get the answers to his questions.

“I don’t like her, she’s hiding something”

“You don’t know her”

“Apparently, neither do you” Vicente argued, trying to talk some sense into his son. “I’m just telling you” he added “to keep an eye on her”

His father’s words ringed in his ears as he watched his mother hug you, thrilled to finally see you again. He wasn’t expecting her to like you so much when he introduced you to his family, the way she had welcomed you was a pleasant surprise. She was quite good at reading people, her sixth sense was seldom wrong. However, his father didn’t really agree with his wife and, as soon as he found himself alone with him, he didn’t hesitate to point out the fact that you didn’t seem like someone who could be trusted. You were suspiciously vague when they asked questions about you, or your past.

As much as he hated to admit it, Luca knew he was right. You never talked about your past or your family, you dismissed every question, changing the subject whenever he tried to find out something more about you. At first he thought that there was something that you weren’t ready to talk about - the scars on your body were the proof - and he was fine with that, but the more time passed, the more he realised that the secret you were keeping was deeper than he thought. So he followed his father’s advice, hiring his most trusted man to gather information about you. He felt guilty, like he was breaking your trust, but he had to be aware of the woman he wanted to marry.

Matteo glanced at him from the other side of the big room, nodding towards the door. He distractedly excused himself from the men he was talking to and headed towards his office, feeling his impatience grow second by second.

“Did you find anything?” he asked, closing the door behind him.

Matteo placed a folder on the desk. “Everything’s written here. I also found some documents that might interest you”

“Good”

Luca wavered for a moment before opening it. He could feel the agitation rise moment by moment. It was still perfectly sealed, as he had ordered. No one, except for him and the man in front of him, must know anything. He had no idea about what he would find out and he didn’t wanna risk to expose something that you didn’t want to be known.

His eyes meticulously scanned the pages, the more he read, the more he tensed up, not recognising the woman that they described. He looked up from the sheet, glancing at Matteo. Even though he knew what was in that envelope, he didn’t comment nor ask unwanted questions. His discretion was the reason why he had been chosen for the job, after all. He shook his head in disbelief, tossing the papers on his desk. You couldn’t have fooled him like that. No one fooled him like that.

“That’s all?”

“Yes, sir”

He nodded, trying to regain his composure. He cleared his throat, neatly stacking the sheets again. “Call Y/n, tell her to come here”

He didn’t need to say it twice, because Matteo immediately walked out the room.

Luca sat on his chair and waited, tapping his fingers on the wooden surface. Mixed feeling fought inside him, anger, disappointment, betrayal, confusion. One question kept on haunting him.

Why?

The creaking sound of the door opening made him lift up his eyes. “Did you want to see me?”

“Sit down” he said, gesturing towards the chair on the other side of the desk. You frowned as you did as he said, waiting for him to start talking. You guessed it must’ve been urgent, since he hadn’t even waited for the guests to go away.

He examined you, trying to find the smallest bit of evidence that could prove what he had read was true. But you sat in front of him, looking at him with your big eyes. If your intentions were malicious, you were way too good at hiding them behind your sweet voice and charming smile.

“Why don’t you tell me about your husband?”

You froze on the spot, feeling the colour drain from your face. “What?”

“I’m sorry, maybe I should say your first husband” he corrected himself, oddly calm. “He died on your wedding night, right? He hit his head, it was a bad accident”

As much as he tried to hide it, rage radiated from every cell in his body. You could see it in the way his back stiffened, in the way his hands gripped the arm of his chair until his knuckles turned white.

It couldn’t be happening. You had moved far away from home, changed your style and habits, you even changed your surname. There was no way he could have known. You put your initial shock aside, the realisation of what it all meant was enough to make you get suddenly defensive. “Did you look into my past behind my back?” you raised your voice, getting up from the chair.

“And how about your second husband?” he added, unfazed, completely ignoring your question. “The one who died in suspicious circumstances. It must’ve been a nightmare for you, becoming a widow twice”

Despite his straight face and apparent calmness, the sarcasm in his voice was clear.

“Stop it.”

“Good thing they were rich, the papers here say that you inherited all of their money” he noted, pointing to the documents. “They also say that you probably poisoned your second husband, hence the reason why you’re known in your hometown as a Black Widow”

Black Widow. That’s what everyone called you. You could almost hear their whispers, filled with ill-concealed inquisitiveness and detriment. It was easy to talk. Two words had so much power that they could turn someone’s world upside down in a matter of days. Hours, even.

“You don’t know anything about what I went through” you gritted your teeth.

He got up and poured himself a glass of whiskey, as his could feel his unmoved facade was starting to falter. “Now you’re going to tell me a fake heartbreaking story, trying to get me to pity you, aren’t you?” he mocked you, drinking it in one go. “You wanted to do the same to me, after all”

His harsh words were like punch in the gut. He was nowhere hear the truth, but the distance in his eyes made you feel like it didn’t matter what you’d tell him, he wouldn’t believe you anyway. He probably already had his own version of the truth. “So you’re going to judge me without even listening to what I have to say?”

“I want to hear what you have to say” he snapped, slamming his glass on the desk, avoiding your gaze for the first time. “I want a fucking explanation” he growled.

You nodded, looking away from him. As hard as it was to talk about it, there was no use in beating around the bush. Being straightforward was the best way of getting on with it. “It’s true” you stated. “I killed my first husband”

He shot his eyes towards you, not expecting you to actually admit it. If you had to be honest, you didn’t expect it either, your own voice seemed foreign as you said those words out loud for the first time. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it right away, deciding to let you talk instead.

“My father needed an alliance with him to expand his business, so he arranged our marriage” you added, crossing your arms. “I didn’t even know him. On our first night, I refused to sleep with him. He beat me with a cane”

He clenched his jaws at your words. That explained the scars on your body, the way you hid them and the reason why you would never tell him how you’d get them. The feelings he felt for you overpowered the bitterness for a moment, the thought of someone hurting you made his blood boil.

“At some point, I managed to take it from him and I hit him on the head. My family covered it up and I wasn’t charged”

The more you talked, the more you realised that there was no going back. He was about to know the whole truth, he was about to decide whether to believe you or throw you away, because he couldn’t risk it.

“After his death, my father arranged another marriage. I didn’t like the man, but he was decent. He died from a disease, I didn’t kill him. Of course, word spread and everyone believed I had poisoned him or something like that. After that, I cut contact with my family, packed my bags, changed my surname and moved here. That’s all”

That’s all. Like it hadn’t been the hardest time of your life. Like it hadn’t been more then a simple change. But you couldn’t afford to let your feelings get the best of you, not after all you had done to come to terms with what happened to you.

Luca didn’t know what hit him the most, your story or the way you had told it. The emptiness in your eyes, the coldness in your voice. Or maybe your calmness. It seemed like you were telling someone else’s experience, not your own. But could he really trust you? Or it was just a trick to make him end up in a wooden box, just like the others?

“You’re telling me that as if it doesn’t touch you”

“What, did you expect me to cry?” you narrowed your eyes, turning to him again. “That would be the right reaction to what happened to me, wouldn’t it?” you rhetorically asked.

He blinked, taken aback by you question. He tried to say something, but you interrupted him. “You know, my reaction is exactly the reason why people started talking. You have to act like a victim, or else you’re the guilty one. But I’m not a victim and I don’t need anyone’s compassion. Not even yours” you added, taking a few steps towards him.

Your tone might have been calm, but the almost imperceptible tremble in your voice gave away the stream of feelings running inside of you.

“I’m independent, I run my own company” you paused, stopping just a few inches away from him. “I didn’t need their money, or yours. You can choose to believe me, or you can leave”

You steadied your voice, looking him straight in the eyes. You didn’t want him to leave, a small voice in the back of your mind was begging him to stay. You didn’t listen to it, though. You loved Luca, you truly loved him and the fact that he thought you could ever hurt him was killing you. But it was his choice. He was free to leave, if he wanted. It didn’t matter how much it hurt, you would find a way to go on, like you always did.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Something changed in him, his gaze softened, his voice dropped. It seemed like rage wasn’t blinding him anymore, leaving space for the tenderness he only reserved for you.

“I didn’t want my past to define me” you admitted. “I wanted to leave it behind me, I didn’t want you to look at me and see...” you stopped, not knowing how to express it with words. “I’m more than that”

Luca looked at you in silence. He still had the woman he loved in front of him. You were the same woman he had met the previous year. Everything you were slowly building together felt too genuine and spontaneous to be fake. No one could lie like that. Maybe it was risky, but something in him knew told him you were telling the truth. He knew you were telling the truth. You did what you needed to do to survive. He brought a hand on your cheek, gently stroking it.

“What I see” he said “is a strong, beautiful, independent woman who went through a lot, but who’s capable of making it on her own, without anyone’s help”

You leaned into his touch and placed you hand over his, relieved at his words. Luca was he only man you had ever loved and trusted and the prospect of a life without him terrified you. It would’ve been way too hard to pick up the pieces and find a reason to go on, it would’ve taken too much time for your heart to heal. You had finally found something you wanted to hold on to.

And he loved you too much to leave you.

“I would never hurt you” you whispered “I love you”

He leaned in and kissed you. At first it was soft, tender, until it became desperate, almost rough. He grabbed your waist and pulled you closer, as you brought your hand to the back of his neck.

He slightly moved away, placing two fingers under your chin to make you look at him. “No more secrets”

“No more secrets”

-

Tag list: @arwyn-the-cyrptic-bisexural @iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella @caelys @lucillethings @peakyxtommy

#peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders fics #luca changretta imagine #luca changretta x reader

[valewright67]

Melizabeth Week, Day Two: Heaven/Hell - Heaven

Fair warning, this is an old one I wrote but never published. I wasn't sure what else to do for it. Also, I apologize in advance for any grammar mistakes.

A bit of OOC with Ludociel

_-_-_-_-_

 "So where should we go first? Now that we're free from the curse. We agreed we'd travel, right? Sooo.... Any ideas?" Meliodas asked, leaning back against Elizabeth. His eyes were closed in bliss as he lay cradled in her arms, back to chest. She was leaning against the headboard on their bed. "Hm… Well, we could return to the celestial village? I've got my memories back now, and… well, that's the closest place to the goddess realm I can get. I'd like to visit. Fly around a land above the clouds once more."

He hummed and turned his head, nuzzling into her collarbone gently. "Sounds good to me. Should we invite any of the others?" Her eyes lit up. "That's a splendid idea! I'm sure Mael would like to visit a place like that too! Zeldris and Gelda as well!" She giggled. "We can invite the rest of the sins, but to be honest? I think they're pretty occupied."

True to her prediction, the sins all declined this time round, citing… alone time. (For Merlin and Gowther, that was literal. They just wanted to be left alone for awhile.) Mael was eager to come, for the same reasons Elizabeth had listed. Zeldris was reluctant, but Gelda convinced him, saying it'd be good for him and Meliodas to spend some quality time together, and she wished to discuss more with Elizabeth.  

By the time the group of five had arrived, the sun was almost rising. "Oh, the spring is refilled! Good, that's convenient! We could have flown, but it would’ve been irritating." Meliodas said. He leaned down by the water and tapped it gently, channeling his energy into opening the portal. An extra burst of goddess magic from Elizabeth by his side, and the familiar glow lit up the pool. He grinned and stood, looking to the other couple. "Zeldris, Gelda. After you."

The black haired demon sighed. "Why do I feel like this is a bad idea?" The blonde smirked. "Because it probably is. Have fun!" 

"...why do I ever trust you?" He grumbled, but dove into the pool anyways, quickly followed by Gelda. Elizabeth smiled at Mael. "You next." He nodded and went without complaint. Elizabeth after him, and Meliodas last, closing the portal behind him.

_-_-_-_-_

Zeldris blinked, adjusting the sudden darkness of the cave as Gelda broke the surface besides him. He swam out and pulled her with him. "Might as well take a look around. They'll be a minute." She nodded and the two walked out of the cave, into the sunlight. 

He almost gasped. The view was incredible. It was stifled though, when he felt a presence of light flying towards him. He was immediately on the defensive and enabled his hellfire with a snarl, whirling around to face the potential threat. 

Goddesses!

Wait… no. These didn't feel like Goddesses. Similar, but off. That's right, they're celestials. Apparently, descended from the heavenly beings who'd once been his mortal enemies. It was hard to remember that now, sometimes. That the war was over, and he had FRIENDS from the other side.

He held his hands up. "Wait, please, I mean you no harm, I swear it!" The bearded man holding a familiar feathered sword scowled. "Like we would believe you, demon! There's only one demon we've ever trusted, and that's not you!" 

Zeldris tried to speak, to explain that he was pretty sure he knew exactly who they were talking about, and that they had nothing to fear from him. “You mean Meliodas, right? I’m-” Before he could complete his sentence, however, the man held the sword up near his throat threateningly. "No lies will spill from your throat before blood, demon scum." Gelda snarled. "How DARE you threaten my husband, you IMPUDENT prick-"

"I am only defending my home from the likes of creatures like you!"

"Remove the sword from my husband's neck!"

"Absolutely not! Either of you make a move, and I slit his throat!"

"MELIODAS IS MY BROTHER!!!"

The man froze and stared at him, before scowling suddenly. "You lying scum-"

"Hey, hey, hey! How about we all calm down, now!" Mael said, emerging from the cave entrance, arms raised placatingly. "There's no need for figh…ting… is that my sword??" He gaped at it. "I haven't seen that thing in 3000 years! This is where it's been the whole time??" 

The Celestials didn't say a word, too stunned at the sudden appearance of a GODDESS, when they were supposed to be wiped out. And not only a goddess, but apparently the first wielder of their most sacred sword. He shook his head. "Um, well anyways. My names Mael, I'm one of the four archangels. That's Zeldris and Gelda. They're not gonna hurt you, the five of us just came for for visit."

"Five? Where's the other two?" By now a small crowd had gathered. The trio blinked as a small blonde man, looking eerily like Meliodas, were it not for the wings on his back, walked forwards. A woman looking near identical to Elizabeth by his side. Mael blinked and smiled. "I'd think they were right in front of me, if I didn't know any better, but they should be here in just a moment. They came through the portal last."

The two exchanged looks. Did he mean…? "Yo, Solaad!" Sure enough, the blonde demon who'd saved them during the time of ruin came up through the cave. "Why are you all terrorizing Zelly?" (A scowl at the nickname was directed at him, but he just smirked at the younger.) "He won't hurt anyone, I promise."

"Hello, Elatte. And everyone else too! It has been quite a long while, hasn't it?" Elizabeth spoke, walking up behind Meliodas with her wings folded neatly against her back.

…wait.

Wings??

"Meliodas? E-Elizabeth? Since when did you get WINGS??" Solaad asked. Elatte glanced at the older man. "Sir Zoria, please drop the sword, Meliodas himself said that this man means no harm."

Elizabeth gave a soft smile. "It's complicated. I've always had them, in a way, as I was born a goddess in my first life. But I was cursed by the demon king to reincarnate as a human for the rest of time, and if I should ever get my memories back, I would die in three days." She fluttered her wings gently. "We managed to break the curse, after 3000 years and 107 lifetimes."

"...who's 'we?' And why did the demon king curse you, what did you DO??" Zoria asked. She laughed. "Well. His firstborn son and I fell in love." She gestured to Meliodas, who had drifted over to Zeldris and thrown an arm over his shoulder, apparently teasing him in demon tongue, much to the younger's displeasure. Zeldris was almost visibly bristling, and his face was red.

“Meliodas is the son the demon king??” Solaad almost yelled, gaining the two demons' attention. “I mean, yes?” Meliodas said, arm still around Zeldris’s shoulders. “Though the previous demon king is dead now, we killed pops. I’m not exactly the current demon king's son.”

Mistress Vaness hobbled forwards. “Who could possibly have the power necessary to take the place of a god?” Meliodas and Zeldris blinked, looked at each other and back at her. “We share the burden.” They said together. She gaped. “You mean…?” They smirked. “Yep! Zeldris is my younger brother. We have the same blood, which makes it easier to share the role of demon king.” 

“Meli is, technically, the stronger by default. But we split the demon king's power and influence 50/50. He just had a more powerful base. Not by much though.” Zeldris added on. 

Meliodas ruffled his hair fondly, and Zeldris swatted him off, retreating to Gelda’s side.  The blonde laughed and drifted back over towards Elizabeth. Mael was just. There. He was still looking at the sword. “Where did you all even get that?” He asked, baffled. The Celestials all exchanged looks and Elatte smiled at him. Solaad took the sword. “Come, we will show you.” They took off and flew down towards a temple. The group followed them.

Elatte gestured up at the magnificent murals. "The legend says that 3,000 years ago, a dark haired goddess in flowing robes accompanied the great Oshiro when Sealing away the demons on our island. He gave us the sword right before his body was spent."

She pointed to a section along the side. “All he said was: ‘I cannot bear to look at this blade any longer. Perhaps it will protect you all better than it did my brother.’ And then he was gone, simple as that. We have passed it down, generation to generation. It is because of Solaad figuring out that it could be used to seal away demons that we are all still alive.”

Mael flew up towards the mural, gazing at the depiction of the goddess. “His name was Ludociel. He was my older brother. There was a forbidden spell cast that changed the memories of everyone in the world, including that of the gods. It made it seem as though I had been killed by Estarossa, one of three demon princes. In reality, Estarossa never existed. I was transformed into him, and false memories were implanted in everyone’s head, including mine. I had no idea that I was actually Mael.” He gave a small smile. “The memories are all still there, though. It is strange. I am both Mael of Sunshine, one of the four archangels, younger brother to Ludociel of Flash. And also, I’m Estarossa, second of the three demon princes, Commandment of Love. It is… strange. I don’t fit in anywhere anymore. Not really.”

Meliodas and Zeldris exchanged glances and flew up next to him. “Mael.” Zeldris started, quietly. “For a moment in time, even without the false memories, you were still our brother.” Meliodas grinned. “Yeah! You may not be Estarossa, but, like you said, he never existed in the first place. He was made up. But you are Mael, and we may as well count you as our brother. Even if you did kill me.” He smirked and the goddess gave a strained chuckle. “Thank you.” He murmured, drifting back down to the ground. Meliodas slapped his shoulder, and Zeldris nudged his side in an unspoken display of commadry. 

He turned and looked to Solaad. “The sword belongs to your people now, I accept that. But… Would you permit me to wield it once more?” The blonde nodded and held the sword out to him. He took it gratefully, feeling the familiar weight of it. He twisted it around, reacquainting himself with it.

He walked outside into the clearing and took a deep breath, centering himself. He thrust the sword up towards the sun, channeling its energy, and he spoke. “Huius bring animam suam. Iterum ego volo loqui cum eo.” The sword lit up, and a beam of light shot out of it. He grunted. “Permitte mihi vedere!” He removed a hand and pointed it forward. The beam of light connecting him to the sun moved through him and flowed out of his hand. A silhouette started to form, flickering. He pushed his hand a little bit farther forward, and more light and magic poured out of him. “Emerge.”

The silhouette solidified. A goddess stood there, blinking and looking confusedly at his hands and then around him. His eyes landed on Mael, and then the stream of light that flowed to him and formed his body. A glimmer of understanding crossed his face, and he looked back up, meeting his brother's gaze.

“Mael… Hello, little brother. What are you doing?” He smiled kindly. Mael gave him a slightly strained grin. “Hi Ludociel. I missed you, I wanted to see you again.” The dark haired goddess softened a little and walked forward, caressing the side of his face. “I have missed you too, all these years. You cannot keep this up for long, however. Manifesting a soul takes up a lot of magic, and you’re going to burn yourself out.” Mael leaned into his palm. “I know, but… my sword… I can channel more magic through it, and I just. I needed to talk to you again. I needed to tell you how sorry I was, Luce...” 

He shushed him. “None of that, Mael. There is nothing to forgive. You’re my little brother, and I love you. I understand.” He glanced around again. “So you made your way to the Celestial’s island. I remember giving them your sword. I couldn’t stand seeing it without you there everyday. I just wanted to get rid of it. I’m a little impressed they’ve kept it in such good shape all these years. Heaven knows most of the rest of our weapons were damaged or destroyed over the centuries.”

Mael wobbled a little, and Ludociels image faded. His hand was clasped on his older brother's shoulder, channeling the magic directly into him. He grunted and forced himself to straighten, Ludociel’s body solidifying again. He gave him a sad smile. “You have to let me go, Mael. Before you hurt yourself.” “No! I’m not, I’m not done talking to you yet, there’s so much I need to say!” He grunted again, the magic taxing on him. Ludociel was about to force him to stop, when two beams of pure magical energy hit his back, reinvigorating him. He turned to look, and Zeldris and Meliodas were lending their power to him. 

“He’s our brother too, in a way.” Meliodas said. Zeldris finished the thought. “He deserves to get to talk to you, after everything.” With the extra influx of magic, Ludociels form started to glow. He could almost feel his body again. Elizabeth walked forwards. “Ludociel… I can do this for you, at least.” He blinked, almost surprised to see her here. She pressed one hand over his forehead, and another over his chest. She inhaled deeply, eyes closed. On the exhale, she spoke. “Revertere ad vita.” His eyes widened. Return to life. 

Her hands glowed with a brilliant light, and he could feel a true body forming around him. She groaned, drawing on her reserves. Gelda scowled and whirled around to the celestials. “You all have light magic! Give her some of yours!”

They were frozen, but Elatte stepped forwards and lifted her hands, pointing at Elizabeth’s back. “All of our power into one! Heal!” A beam of green light shot out of her hands and into Elizabeth. The other celestials were quick to follow her example.

She gathered the influx of energy and pushed it into him. A blinding light filled the clearing, and when it faded, Ludociel was actually there, kneeling on the ground, naked as the day he was born. Though, Elizabeth supposed that made sense, considering he had just been reborn, in a way. Mael dropped the sword and stumbled forward, clinging to him tightly. Ludociel hugged him back. 

“...May I please have something to cover up with?” He asked. Mael laughed and took off the topcoat of his robe, wrapping it around him. Ludociel buttoned it up, silently thanking that it was long, and reached to his ankles.

Mael stood, and helped him to his feet, the two leaning on each other for support. Meliodas had already gathered Elizabeth up, and was holding her while she regained her energy. The two murmured gently back and forth. Gelda and Zeldris were doing the same not too far away.

"Mael…" He started. "Thank you, little brother." The light haired goddess grinned and leaned in to hug him once more. "I missed you, big brother." Ludociel smiled and stroked his hair. "We can talk later. For now, let's just enjoy the moment."

"Elizabeth… How did you do that? Even with all of our energy, we cannot bring someone back to life. So how is that with you performing the spell, it was successful?" Solaad asked, picking up the sword. She smiled a little. "I honestly had no idea that would work. I hoped, of course, but I had no way of knowing for sure."

Ludociel barked out a tired laugh. "You are far too modest, Lady Elizabeth." He turned to the gathered celestials. "She is more powerful than even I or Mael are at our strongest, when she wishes to be. Her healing powers far surpass even the best of our other healers. She is able to remove the darkness from even Indura’s, and has done so before, purifying two Indura demons at the same time. Her formal title is Elizabeth Lightbringer." He gave a small smirk as he added on one more tidbit of information. "Daughter of the Supreme Deity."

Gasps echoed through the crowd, and Elizabeth sighed. "Please, it's really not that big of a deal-" "But it is, Elizabeth." Mael said, with a brilliant smile. "Of the goddesses, you are second in power and ability only to your mother. In the rest of the world. Well. You married your equal." He nodded his head at Meliodas, who returned it with a smirk. 

The two brothers walked off, shooting the crowd and, specifically, the demons and Elizabeth, grateful smiles. Meliodas clapped and rubbed his hands, wings taking shape on his back. "I'm hungry. I'll catch a sky fish, and you'll teach me how to cook one. Deal? Deal!" He flung off the ground and Elizabeth bristled, bolting after him. "YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO COOK, YOU'LL POISON US!!" He just cackled. 

#melizabethweek #elizabeth nnt #meliodas x elizabeth #geldris #zeldris x gelda #mael nnt #ludociel #seven deadly sins #nanatsu no taizai #celestials #solaad #Elatte #melizabethweek2021 #melizabeth #day two #heaven/hell #heaven

[all-about-seggs]

Taming of the Lion-

Pairing: Timeskip! (Model) Lev Haiba x femme! Reader

Warnings- CBT, dom Reader, a bit of power play, handjob.

A/n- This is my delayed contribution to the Hard at work Collab that I was really looking forward to until college say no😞. I'm sorry for the disappointing work.

"Miss y/n is ready to see you now", the sharp looking secretary politely gestured towards the classy mahogany door that opened to show the office of the current CEO of a high end fashion brand that was ruling all the gigantic billboards of Russia these days.

Today was the first interview, the first meeting infact that you allowed to get an over-all idea how this investment would go should you decide to work with him. The post as its brand ambassador was not yet given to Lev but his puffed chest and confident smirk would suggest otherwise.

He entered with the same unreasonable confidence that he carried since highschool, bright green eyes that seemed to sparkle when catching light and a haughty smirk.

Lev didn't missed a beat when he saw your table stacked with the magazines he was doing the front cover for.

" Amazing aren't they?!", His bubbly excitement surface in a second and it took a few moments for you to register his child like response.

Even though you didn't judged him based on how he looked on the photos you still didn't expected him to be a himbo with no sense of self restraint. But he appeared to be oblivious to your shock and went on.

" This one was just a gig my sister got me when I was just starting out but I bet you can't tell me apart from a professional huh, oh and this one is-," he giddly pointed to one picture after another telling you all of their history and after a few minutes your patience ran out.

Shoving those magazines aside you got to the point.

" How far are you willing to go for this job?", A little suggestive based on the interpretation but you tested him anyway, eyebrows raising as if to urge him to respond.

" I'm not sure I understand.....", Seeing him genuinely perplexed you put your elbows on the huge glass table and rested you chin in your palms before speaking.

" One thing is clear to me and it's that you, Mr. Lev, are still an ameture who lacks experience. So how much are you willing to give to this job?"

" Well it should go without saying that I'm always ready to learn new things and tricks! And just because I'm young doesn't mean I'll do a sloppy job", his pout and way of speaking was crude but it had a certain charm. The kind of pureness that doesn't come by all that often and a sudden need to whip him into a shape you saw fit was already making its way into your head.

" Then let's start you lessons right away, shall we?", Leaning back on your chair you pointed at his clothes before speaking.

"Strip.", You thought he'd atleast argue a little first but at soon as you lifted your eyes he was already halfway naked. Your lips quirked in a natural smile, watching his sculpted body in the bright top floor of the office buliding. Not a shy boy atleast, you thought.

Living in the glamorous world of fashion you encounter more than a few people wanting to please you to get in your good side but this was one of the few instances where you felt like indulging in for yourself. And you had the power to get what you wanted and the person in front of you was just waiting for you to devour him at any given moment.

"You have pretty knees, all unblemished and unrealistically perfect. I'll try not to ruin them too much", with that you casually stood up from your leather chair and walked towards the last shelf of your office's mini library.

Without looking back you continued, " You see, Lev, if you want to really understand the inspiration behind my brand then you have to experience first hand submission. Afterall, it's made for women of the highest class and positions. The kind of women", Turning around you see him awkwardly covering his thick member,

" that doesn't bend for anyone". Lev atleast got the gist of your innuendo by now, but his habit of diving headfirst into an unknown situation was proving to be rather scary as soon as he saw you pull out a few metal and plastic items that appeared to be sex toys from the middle of the shelf lined with magazines and books.

"Hmmmmm, not bad", words of appraisal fell from your lips as Lev's toned body was displayed out in front of you to admire from an even more closer space, shamelessly so. From his pretty pink nipples to his equally pretty cock you drank in all his details before whipping out your gear.

"Well now, it's bigger than I thought..... This Ball stretcher might not fit afterall," eyeing his cock you quickly look over to the toy in your hand before deciding to givi it a try after all. As Lev saw you approach him with a frighteningly slow pace he backed up a little.

"Do- Do I really have to do this? I doesn't look like it'll fit!", His hesitant voice now contrasted with the self assured tone that he carried before and the helpless look in his emerald green eyes only made you want to play with him further, afterall, it wasn't everyday a mere model piqued your interest like he did and you didn't mind having a pet for entertainment purposes.

"Ofcourse. If you can't even handle this much then how do you intend to please the millions of women out there who like and endorse my brand?", Finally cornering him in a place you nonchalantly grab his balls to fit the toy in hand and soon his soft balls were under the metallic ring that stretched them nicely. He kept jolting at the slightest brush of your hands against his bare skin and you lightly slap his hardened shaft.

His moans were like little squeeks and it was starting to arouse you, the submissive nature of which encouraged your sadistic streak. Caressing his balls a little more you lead him towards the low coffee table.

"On your knees", on the plush carpet underneath, you asked Lev to show his cute ass.

Down on the floor, Lev bend forward until his face and chest touched the ground. His ass up in the air, like a piece of art his every muscle glistened in the morning light, illuminating his porcelain skin. You kneel down behind him to give his ass cheek a firm slap, making him jolt a little from the stinging pleasure, the metal rings wrapped around his balls adding to the impact.

It was adorable, how someone of his gigantic size and stature was now below you mewling like a kitten. You gently touch the sensitive tip of his cock, already hard and ready to be used as you wished. Grazing a thumb over his leaking precum you lubed your fingers enough to strok him without causing friction burns.

"How would you like it if I took a photo of you right now. Face down and ass up like a slut who just wants to cum?" Your authorative voice bommed in his ears and he was blushing all the way to his neck by now.

You disregarded the few incoherent sounds he made and grabbed his shaft and started stroking him roughly. In circular motion, your hands that barely wrapped around his thick cock moved up and down in a vigorous speed. You could feel him tremble beneath your hands, his member throbbing in your hand and the constant pleas to let him cum was a brilliant sight to behold.

His balls felt heavy due to the toy and Lev's orgasm equally intense left his entire body shaking violently. If the office walls weren't as expensively thick as they were his high pitched screams would've probably knocked out a few unsuspecting workers off of their seats.

The place below his softening cock was wet with his cum, the thick white fluid soaking through the fabric of the carpet and you could already imagine ordering him to lick it clean while you watched. The things you wanted to do to him. The things you wanted him to do to you but the train of you fantasies was soon cut short when you suddenly hear a knock on your door.

Your assistant called to remind you of your next appointment and a frown quickly made its way onto your face and you begrudgingly lift head, only to see his eyes still dazed from your previous session. He seemed like he was still alert enough to process the situation so you tried to push his limits a bit more.

Tugging him by his hair, you tilt his head back to look at his spent face, "Now let's get you dolled up for round two shall we?", His beautiful swollen lips formed a soft smile before speaking

" So I got the job right?".

#Haikyuu!! #haikyuu!! smut #hq!! #hq!! x reader #Haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #lev haiba #Haikyuu lev #Haikyuu lev x reader #lev x Reader #lev smut #my writing #hard at work collab #haikyuu scenario