#Also if you read this far in the tags you deserve to know that this post came into my head at 1am and I couldn't sleep til I wrote it

[ollypopwrites]

Bite Down

Rolan x F!Tav (she/her, AFAB) [** Tav's class is not mentioned. There's discussion of how she is not a tiefling, but no other hint to her race. Her appearance is also not discussed aside from some mentions of her being curvy/plus size/etc. There's not a lot of body diversity in the game, so I wanted to write a softer Tav. Other than that I tried to keep it as general as possible.]

Summary: Tav and Rolan seemed to always find their way into each other's beds, but it was never meant to be anything serious. When he finds out Tav lets her resident vampire feed from her, he realizes just how serious he would like it to be.

Rating: M (18+ MDNI)

Tags: Smut [PiV, f!receiving oral sex, biting, nipple play, marking, dirty talk, very light dom!rolan -- mostly feral!rolan who takes the lead, light blood play, light pain play, overstim] possessive behavior, jealous behavior, pining, and after care.

Word count: 4.5k

Notes: is it still pining if technically they've fucked already? not sure.

Read on Ao3

In some way it felt like being a teenager again, hiding away with Tav for a moment of privacy. She had told him she knew a spot, away from teasing siblings and tadpole connected companions. When she tilted her head conspiratorially and nodded to the Elfsong’s kitchens he had waited a few moments before meeting her back there. The cooks had said nothing when she grabbed him and dragged him to the cellar, and then into a secret room hidden behind some huge barrels of wine. 

It was filled with cobwebs and cages, along with a few racks of weapons. The only semblance of comfort was a small nest of bedrolls and blankets tucked away in one of the corners. 

“It’s not romantic but when I need a minute away from the camp it does just fine.”

“The rusted halberds certainly add… ambience,” he looked at her with a slightly bemused expression.

“There’s another less creepy hidden room I’d show you if it weren’t for,” she pulled a face, “the fact it’s currently filled with the corpses of a githyanki scouting party.”

Rolan blinked a few times at her, still finding himself at a loss at some of the things she said. Her life was a truly chaotic and absurd string of events. She shrugged, giving an adorably embarrassed half giggle and looked away from him. Pulling out a bottle of wine, she waved it enticingly at him before procuring some glasses and started pouring. 

This was the ritual, thus far. It had started at the party after she and her friends had saved the Grove, it had meant to be a single night tryst. He had the slightest hope he would find her in the city after they all made it, but he was under no delusions about what she was facing. Her entire life revolved around getting the mindflayer tadpole out of her head and his focus was getting to the apprenticeship at all costs. 

Then the Shadow Cursed lands happened. Where he was a real bastard, and she somehow forgave him. It was piss poor timing, to realize he was entirely enchanted with her in nthat place. At the time even just looking at her filled him with complete rage and shame. He blamed her, but mostly himself, and he wanted to bare his teeth and gnash and growl because it was better than giving into despair. He wanted her comfort, but he didn’t deserve it, and he hated himself for not being able to do it on his own. Yet there she was, bright and sweet and always so willing to help. Even worse, she always managed to succeed despite the odds making him feel so inadequate. 

It brought out a insecurity driven hostility that he was not at all proud of. He hoped by the time she saw him again he would be on his way to being a properly trained wizard and just altogether less of an ass. Someone worth knowing. 

After Lorrokan he’d felt raw and foolish and disenchanted. He was happy to be free of him but he was such a mess of mixed emotions. He needed some time before facing his siblings, who he had all but ignored besides sending money and short letters. If Lia ever found out what Lorrokan had been doing she would have done something stupid and Cal would have joined her, so he'd kept them away. Facing them and explaining what had been going on felt like such a heavy task. 

Tav hadn't judged. She had even. gone out of her way to further humiliate Lorroakan by making his corpse admit what she seemed to already have known: Rolan was more powerful than he ever was. When her companions took their leave, she had stayed behind and tried to distract him by suggesting they raid what had to be an incredibly expensive wine collection. It ended with her in his bed, a quiet gentle night where he buried his face in the crook of her neck afterward and she just held him. Vulnerability he had scarcely even exposed to his brother and sister came so easy for him with Tav. 

After that he had hidden away with his siblings to figure out just what the hell to do as the master of a tower. It wasn’t until she had turned up at Sorcerous Sundries a few days  later that he had gotten the courage to ask her if she was interested in having a glass of wine with him again. 

Drinking wine and talking always led to her kissing him. She always made the first move to lean in close and wait a beat for him to either allow it to happen or reject her advances. He was always keen, and never even tried to hide it. He had thought her beautiful from the moment she butted into his argument with Lia in the Grove, despite being annoyed at her intrusion. Even when he was determined to hate her his mind had turned to the softness of her while he pulled at his cock in fleeting moments of alone time at the Last Light Inn. 

As usual, her touch made Rolan suck in a sharp breath when her hand came to his cheek and gently caressed over a still healing bruise left over from Lorroakan. She always was so gentle, and generous with her touch, making him crumble and forget his pride in an instant. He cared about her a concerning amount, despite the shortness of their acquaintance, and he was always painfully obvious about it whenever she broke the fragile wall of his demeanor. He softened so easily for her. 

Her lips, just as plush and soft as he remembered, parted as tongues began to move against one another. Hers searched, tickling over his own lips and trailing over sharp teeth. It felt like the world stopped for a little bit, as they leisurely kissed  in a hidden back room, the quiet stillness making each excited breath and soft sound of enjoyment plain to hear. His tail curled around her, loose and leisurely. 

Rolan ducked his head, going to press his lips against her neck. His mouth met with a slightly rough scabbed hole. It was not unusual for her to have left over bumps or bruises from whatever fight she found herself in. The pair of puncture wounds on her throat, however, were perfectly spaced apart for it to have come from another person’s mouth. 

“What is this?” He asked, his fingers coming up to trace the wounds. 

“Hm?”

“Something bit you,” he said, his tail beginning to flick in short angry patterns. “Some one .”

Had she been with another tiefling recently? Perhaps Karlach or maybe even Wyll, who was a devil, but the distinction hardly mattered in this instance. These were bite marks from someone with sharp teeth; it could have been either one of them. The nasty flame of jealousy sparked his already quick temper, and he scowled as he looked at the pair of punctures on her skin. 

“Oh,” she said, “yes, Astarion needed to feed before we got into the city. There was nothing he could hunt in the Shadowcursed Lands.”

“You feed him your blood?”

“He’s a vampire, it’s all he can really get sustenance from.”

“I know that,” he said, shortly, “but I didn’t think you let him drink from you.”

“Normally he doesn’t,” she raised her eyebrows. “He usually picks off whoever is trying to kill us that day. But as I said, he’d been low on options until we got here.”

If Rolan were feeling more reasonable he could listen to the logic of it. She was their leader, she took the responsibility very seriously: if one of them needed something she was going to provide it. And the Shadowcursed lands had been entirely inhospitable to life, there was honestly almost nothing for Astarion to feed off of. 

“Rolan?” She asked after a few moments of his angry silence.

“Do you sleep with him?”

“What?” She pulled back to look at him in slight shock and disbelief. "No.” 

She didn't say as much, but he reminded himself that it wasn’t really any of his business even if she did. There was no agreement of exclusivity between them. No discussion of intentions or anything of the sort. They’d had sex at a party and then once again his first night in ownership of the tower. It didn’t matter that he thought of only her when he pleasured himself, or that he had spent hard nights after Lorrokan’s beatings imagining she would walk through his door with an easy smile. She wasn’t his but he couldn’t deny the needling reality that over the past few weeks he had started to consider himself hers. 

“Do you like it?”

Tav looked at him quizzically. “Being drained of blood isn’t exactly my idea of a good time.”

“But the biting?”

The hard truth was he could hardly blame Astarion, vampire or not. Tav was soft in shape and feel, she was strong of course, but at least in appearances her skin was plush and delicate. Rolan had only ever slept with tieflings before, and while their infernally ridged skin was not rough to the touch it was just naturally a bit more durable. They had to be with their sharp nails and teeth, he'd never had to worry about if he was being too rough. That first night with Tav he had been shocked and intrigued by the easy way scratches raised on her skin and how her flesh was indented by his teeth. He’d be lying if he hadn’t thought about biting into her again and again, just to feel what it was like.

Tav’s breath hitched, and her defensiveness had melted into uncertain embarrassment. “I - I suppose I would? If it weren’t for the bloodlessness —“

Rolan leaned in to kiss her again, messy and possessive, tail wrapping around her wrist. His body pushed hers back a bit onto the bedroll, and when he pulled his lips away his teeth latched onto her bottom lip. The gasp she gave made it slip from him, and she got shoved entirely onto her back as he went for her throat. Tail and one hand pinning her wrists to the ground, his other tilted her chin up and aside. The column of flesh was almost entirely unmarked, save for Astarion’s work. He opened his mouth wide enough to clamp down and each of his sharp canines dug in. Beneath him, he felt her body tense up at the sudden sensation. 

But she moaned. And he heard a rumbling groan leave his throat that sounded alarmingly like a growl. 

His mouth sought after more untouched skin. Tav kept making soft, helpless little noises that spurred him on, it felt so good to have her flesh between his teeth. When he looked down at her she was a bit of a mess, covered in new love bites, parted lips swollen and her eyes lidded as she looked up at him. 

Adorable , he thought to himself. 

Besides being so beautiful and powerful and capable he couldn’t help but think about how cute she was. Sweet despite the trail of bodies in her wake, and always giggling and smiling — tits and ass bouncing with every step she took. So cute, in fact, he couldn't help but keep squeezing and biting. At the juncture of her shoulder and neck, he dug in harder than he intended to — Tav hissed in pain. The slightest hint of iron bloomed on his tongue. He pulled back, seeing he had broken skin. It was much smaller than the vampire’s bites, more like pinpricks in her skin beneath the discoloration of a bruise. 

“I’m sorry —“ he breathed. 

“S’okay,” she shook her head. 

“Do you like it?”

She licked her lips. A brief flash of bashfulness ran over her face; she chewed on the inside of her lip before she nodded a little. “Yes,” she said meekly. 

“Me too.”

“I can tell,” her hand pulled out of his tail’s hold, coming up to the tented fabric of his robes over his crotch. 

He grunted. “Y-yeah.” He swallowed, grasping onto the remaining capability of thought, “if it’s too much —  we can stop, we don’t need to —“

“I trust you,” her smile was genuine, just slightly hazy, but her eyes sparkled with affection. He was mesmerized. “Do you trust me?”

“With my life,” he answered too quickly, and too earnestly. Were there more blood for him to spare between his cock and his already heated body he may have blushed.

“I’ll tell you if I need to stop.” 

“Good.” He kissed her. 

Clothes were clumsily pulled off, until they were both all but naked in the lowlight of the candelabras in the room. With her bare before him, he kept biting every bit of skin he could get to, ignoring her attempt to reach down and stroke his cock. He felt an unignorable need to keep marking her, to clench his teeth around her beautifully adorable body. He was being incredibly greedy, wanting to make sure that anyone who saw her knew that he had been there. 

Taking the weight of her breasts in his hands he pressed them together, ducking his mouth to one nipple and swirling his tongue around it. She gasped, hands gripping into his hair. Her nails were hard enough that he felt the scratch of them on his scalp, but not nearly painful. The feeling had a shiver starting from the base of his tail up to the top of his head. 

“Gods above, Rolan,” she murmured. 

His thumbs took over in teasing the rigid peaks, as he moved his mouth onto the impossibly squishy and generous swell of her breasts. Sucking and biting until he was satisfied with the discoloration before he moved onto the same spot of the other. His knee came between her thighs, and she ground her cunt against it the moment she felt it there. Wet and somehow warm enough for him to tell she was burning for him despite his infernal blood keeping him always a fair bit warmer than her. His teeth wrapped around a nipple, extremely careful but she faltered in her breathing and tensed up in anticipation. 

But he just ran his tongue over the tip until she whined, letting it go easily when she bucked her hips against his thigh. 

“I want to taste you,” he said. 

Tav laughed a little, “as if you haven’t been trying to eat me alive already.” 

“Shall I stop?”

“Did I tell you to stop?”

“It sounded like you were complaining,” he grumbled. 

“You would know all about that,” she teased. “It’s one of your specialit — ah!”

Rolan repaid the teasing with another harsh bite on the side of her neck. Her fingers tugged at his hair, and he bit down harder. His fingers tweaked her nipples, his thigh pressed against her cunt, and she twitched a little before going limp. Tav whined and clenched her eyes shut against the sensations. 

It was a strangely satisfying show of submission. He felt his cock drip precum, his tongue dancing over the dent in the shape of his teeth in her skin.

“Let me taste you,” he said again. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” she breathed in response, frantically. 

Rolan dragged his canines along the softness of her tummy, liking the small scratches they made in their wake. When he was finally between her thighs, he groaned into the skin. As was his desire, he started nibbling into the skin there too. Her fingers still tugged at his hair, scratching his scalp and making him groan in pleasure. When he licked along the lush seam of her cunt he shuddered, her needy little whine and the taste making him feel dizzy. The vampire may have tasted her blood, but now so had he. The privilege of knowing what her arousal tasted like on his tongue was something he was sure none of her companions could claim. 

He got to hear the way she keened as he found the way to make her hips nearly buck him off of her, and the needy noise she made when he shoved them back down. There was no force in Faerûn that could pull him away from pushing down her hips and devouring her. In his haste and mindless goal to simply claim and consume, it took him longer than he would have liked to admit to keep track of what had her gasping for more. But once he did he didn't stop until her legs tried to close in on him, and even then he let himself be squished between the strength of them. Her high pitched moan echoed off of the ceiling, reverberating through his skull in a blissful ring, his eyes nearly rolling back. Soft skin bracketing his face, the smell and taste of her invading his senses all the while her moans tickling his brain made his hips grind down into the blankets beneath him. He felt her pulsing against his tongue, and dipped it into her hole greedily tasting the rush of wetness that followed after. 

“By Ao, you —“ she cut herself off with a hiss as his mouth latched onto her clit again, “fuck!”

No God’s name would do coming from her lips, only his name, only pleads for more, for him. She was sensitive, and it was plainly obvious by the way she devolved into helpless sounds as her hips ground against him. This was what he wanted, to have her entire world fall away to nothing except him between her legs, her unfettered attention as he made her feel so blissful she forgot how to speak.

He got carried away, not keeping track of how many times she came on his tongue until finally she yelped and grabbed his horns. When she tugged him away from her he admired his victory — she was a wreck of love bites, kiss swollen lips open as she gasped for breath, and eyes swimming with unspilled tears. Rolan felt her wetness on his lips and chin against the cool air of the cellar, tongue swiping over his lips for another taste of her. 

“Too much,” she gasped. 

A darker voice in him wanted to tell her it would be too much when he said so, but he was still himself despite whatever had come over him. Perhaps one day they could experiment, perhaps one day they could do this right and he could see how far he could really take her. He could make those tears spill over, making her come over and over until she was incapable of speech let alone thoughts. A shudder ran down his spine, tail lifting excitedly at the idea. 

But this was a spur of the moment tryst underneath the Elfsong, and he wasn’t going to stop everything now to negotiate limits and safewords and the like. 

“Do you,” he breathed, lifting himself up to get away from the temptation of her so close to his mouth, “do you want to stop?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I want you to fuck me.”

His so far ignored cock bobbed between his legs, and he closed his eyes as he moaned at the words. With haste he brought himself onto his knees, grabbing her thighs and tugging her half into his lap. Nestling between her thighs, he watched as he slotted himself against her, rubbing through the wetness and nearly choking on the air he was breathing. Her hand came between them, grabbing his cock from where he unthinkingly kept rubbing it against the silky wetness, and pressed it to her entrance. 

Rolan went rigid. Tav gave a little smile. His hips pushed forward, savoring the slow penetration as she surrounded him. He waited, enjoying the soft squeeze of her, and gasped when her hand came to his cheek. The unspoken hung in the air, she had him, he was safe, he was doing good -- he was perfect the way he was cupped in her palm like this. He opened his eyes, meeting hers and very nearly confessed an undying love he was unsure he was aware of before. 

There was some unknown magic in Tav that seemed to bring down the walls of almost everyone she met. He fancied himself a logical, and practical, man. He’d known this woman for mere weeks, a very short time in the grand scheme of his life, and yet it felt like he could tell her anything, and be his worst and still get that sweet smile from her. In fact, he had been the worst version of himself and she had shown him patience and compassion anyway. 

He knew he liked her, otherwise why would he be in this creepy hidden back room rutting like a beast on a makeshift bed, but love? 

Despite the constricting bliss of her cunt around him, sharp reality bled into his mind. He told himself he would properly court her once she was free of her tadpole. Then he could entertain the idea of love. Until that day came, he had a tower and unending resources of a magic nature to keep her safe, and the privilege of being the one she turned to for a reprieve from the horrors of her new fate. Which, he admitted, also granted him the pleasure of being able to bury his cock in her. 

“Alright?” She asked him, thumb trailing over his lips before she moved her hand to rub at the center of his brows which where furrowed. 

Rolan felt his throat tighten. She was so incredibly gentle with him sometimes he had no clue how to properly react to it. He just nodded. 

He needed to get out of his head, he needed to get back to the warm wetness he was currently feeling. Sliding his hips back and then thrusting forward, her hands fell to his forearms and her body laid back against the bedroll again. The skin of her hips dimpled under his grip, and he tightened his hold. It was a sinfully delicious feeling to slide against her walls, and he felt every other thought start to slip away again. His eyes danced over her body, now riddled with his own marks, but when he caught the vampire’s bite his jaw clenched, remembering where this all started. 

Perhaps he shouldn’t wait until the present danger was cleared. Perhaps he should just go against his usual self-preservation and simply tell her he wanted her to be his, only his. A harsher thrust had her tits bouncing with the force of it and kept going at the same intensity to watch it happen over and over again. 

“Gods, Rolan,” she moaned. “You feel so good.”

His jaw went slack at the praise, spurring him on to keep going. When her hips met his, rolling to meet each thrust, the slap of skin on skin started to fill the room loudly. One hand reached for her breast, fingers dancing over the bite mark he had left. 

“Will you let your cleric heal these away?” He asked breathlessly. 

Tav gulped, her hand coming over his on her breast. “I don’t want to. Do you want me to?”

Stupid question , he thought, and maybe said aloud given the way she laughed. It was hard to think now that he was thrusting in and out of her. He covered her body with his, arms wrapping around her so her own were pressed to her side. All she could do was grab at his arms, holding on as his weight pushed her legs further apart and pressed him deeper into her. 

“No,” he said, biting down on her shoulder hard enough that she yelped in pain. “I want you to go back to camp, hardly able to walk,” he said between making another bruise. “Covered in my marks — fuck, I want them to know I nearly had you in tears fucking you with my tongue.”

Gods, that was vulgar — he nearly apologized until Tav let out a gasp of his name, her cunt clenching around him. His mind went fuzzy again. There was no need to be proud and dignified for her, he could just say what he was thinking, even the deepest filthiest thoughts that came to his mind while he fucked her. 

“I’ll send you back with my cum, dripping out of you —“ he gasped. 

Tav’s back arched, her eyes rolling back a little as she came, surprising them both with the suddenness of it. Rolan was losing his rhythm, body pulsing with a need for release. No more words came to mind, just the ringing sound of her voice chanting his name and her walls fluttering around him. It was a chain reaction, as he suddenly felt the tension snap and came, whining as he did, desperately thrusting into her heat as his vision whited out. 

When he went limp against her, he took a couple breaths, the haze of the possessive flames in him subsiding. He had proved himself, he had her exactly as he wanted, and she had eagerly let him. Rolan lifted his head to kiss her. Softly, wordlessly gentle, only pulling away to press their foreheads together. The desire to say something, to tell her just how much she meant to him, but self-preservation was back in full force. The words wouldn't unstick from his throat. He helped clean her up, kissed softly at some of the harsher marks. He wanted to murmur words of encouragement and care as they curled up together, but he couldn't trust himself to not say too much. Rolan's arms, legs and tail wrapped around her as he breathed in the quiet of the afterglow. At the very least, he could trust his body to communicate what he was too afraid to say. 

“Rolan,” she said gently. 

“Hm?”

“I —“ she started shyly. “I don’t want — I haven’t been with anyone else, not since… “ she chewed on her lip, trying to decide what to say but coming up short. “I’m trying to say, I’m not interested in anyone at camp. Or, anywhere else, actually.”

Rolan’s tail wrapped around her leg, and he finally felt himself start to blush a deep crimson. “Good.”

Really? That’s all he had to say? He’d just told her more filthy things than he’d thought he’d ever said in his life but all he could come up with was ‘good' when she told him exactly what he had been wanting to hear. He cleared his throat, steeling himself to not fuck this up before it ever had a beginning. 

“You’re incredibly busy, what with the tadpoles and the cultists and all of the characters you run around with, but,”  he started, “perhaps when all of that is over we could… begin a courtship.” 

“Doesn’t courting come before sex? Bit out of order, don’t you think?” She smiled. 

“You deserve a real courtship,” he said seriously. “I owe you that, at least.”

“You owe me nothing,” she kissed him. 

“You’ve changed my life in unimaginable ways. Are you this altruistic with everyone?” 

“Don’t know if I should answer that,” she bit her lip to stop a smile, “I’ve learned you have a jealous streak about you. I’ve got dozens of bite marks to show for it.”

“Yes,” he grinned, “you do.”

Thank you for reading!

#rolan x tav #rolan fanfic #rolan smut #holy rolan empire #olly talks

[foodsies4me]

June Malec fic rec!

Thanking @crystalmir for this month's theme as well (thank you for the different, they were all brilliant)! This time the theme is time-travel! The same rules apply as always, one fic per author, even though all of these authors have other brilliant fics you should be reading and if you want to add your own recs in the comments, tags, or reblogs please feel free to do so! 💜

Also, I have tagged the authors whose Tumblr account I know (aka found on their AO3 profile), but if you'd prefer I not tag you, please tell me! I don't want these to be annoying for the authors.

One-shots:

Time Loop by @Master of Unlocking: Alec is stuck in a time-loop and isn’t dealing well with it. One of my favourite fics when I need some angsty angst.

Warning for (not permanent) character death and suicide! This fic is very angsty even if it has a happy end, so you’re warned.

Summary:

Alec is done.

“You win,” he whispers as he sits down, his back against the wall of the crypt. He rubs his fingers together, trying to brush away the ash that covers them. He looks at the podium and the orb resting on it. Alec finds it hard to believe that such small thing can be the cause of such great grief.

“I’ve tried everything.” Alec looks down at his hands and in the past he would have cried, but he is already out of tears. They are all used up by now. “So you win.”

Your Name For A Capital by @theprophetlemonade: Magnus POV fic where he keeps meeting Alec in the past and it’s just so deliciously angsty and emotional in the best way!

Summary:

 “I can’t wait another hundred years to see you again, Alexander.”

He hates it, he does. He hates the way Alec looks at him with a history they haven’t yet shared. 

Alec’s fingers dig into his ribs. A moment of hesitation. “You won’t have to wait that long,” he murmurs, quiet enough to be a secret. “I promise.”

“You don’t know that.”

Alec stops, forcing Magnus to stop too. Magnus squints at him, seeing double, but Alec shakes his head. “Magnus, I do.”

“How?”

“Because,” says Alec, and once again, Magnus feels the tug of magic kneading at his skin, a string of fate that wraps around his bottom rib and leads beyond his chest and enters Alec’s in exactly the same place. “You and me, we always find our way back to each other. Whatever happens.”

To endure by @thisissirius: Alec is stuck in another time loop fic and forced to watch Magnus die over and over again. Another lovely fic with a happy end but does have some temporary MCD so beware.

Summary:

“I can’t watch you die again,” Alec blurts out. He rubs his hands against his knees, looks up at Magnus through his lashes. “I don’t want to do this anymore.” 

a time loop threatens to confine alec to a lifetime of losing magnus.

Teach Them Well by @ellegy42: Magnus meeting his kids in the past. This fic is just adorable and reading it never fails to bring a smile to my face.

Summary:

When Magnus sees a Shadowhunter chasing a young warlock, he comes to the natural conclusion. 

It just so happens to be entirely wrong.

belong by @starkguzman: A blueberry POV that is just sublime and I want to throw all of the praise in existence at this fic. All of it. Just yessssss. Also our favourite blueberry deserves a hug or twenty cuz I said so.

Summary:

He’d only been trying to portal home. He’s done it a million times before and he doesn’t know where he went wrong this time. He had ended up in the loft, but he knew something was horribly wrong from the very first second. Nothing looked the same, nothing felt familiar. The very air he breathed caused his whole body to itch, every instinct he had screaming at him that everything was wrong. It had only been when Magnus had found him that it had been confirmed. While his Papa was exactly the same as he had been the last time Max had seen him, it was so very clear to Max that he was not the same man. A hesitant “Papa?” had only cemented it. 

He wasn’t home at all. He was as far from home as he could get.

Everything it has taken (everything it has given) by @lawsofchaos1: hauntingly and painfully devastating like all of Law’s fics. There is again some temporary MCD but if you can handle that then it’s so, so worth the read.

Summary:

The sensation of blood-soaked metallic dirt beneath his cheek is insubstantial and fleeting, overlaid and then replaced with the smooth slide of cheap cotton and Alec jerks back into being entangled in the rough weave of Institute-standard sheets, agony shrieking down his side.

In which the world burns the first time and Alec and Magnus break reality (to burn it down again the right way).

Multi-Chapters or Series

Across the Lonely Decades by @dreaming-marchling: If you haven’t read this yet then please stop whatever you’re doing and go read this (unless you’re working, of course I don’t want you to get fired). This fic is angsty and stunning like all of Marchlings fics are and I am obsessed.

Summary:

Alec, Magnus and their family work to investigate a series of murders that has rocked New York, trying to figure out who this mysterious warlock is that’s murdering people in elaborate and never seen before pentagrams. What the warlock is trying to do isn’t clear either. 

Well, it isn’t clear until Alec accidentally activates the spell himself and finds out in literally the worst pay possible.

Beside me by d_aia: A Ragnor POV fic! Alec time travels to the past and meets a past Magnus and Ragnor. I’m pretty sure my love for time travel fics comes from this particular fic. And also, because it bears repeating, Ragnor POV!

Summary:

A portal opened between two trees, and an oddly dressed man came through. He landed on his back and, like a bug, was trying unsuccessfully to turn over. The portal winked closed immediately after. 

The man was the tall sort, had a bow and arrow, a couple of blades, and a satchel. He had rune tattoos, which marked him a Shadowhunter. He was also currently writhing in pain and bleeding all over the place. 

What was a Warlock to do with such a man? * Alec goes back in time. Then things get complicated but oddly sweet, and they stay that way. Ragnor is just along for the ride.

Flames to Embers by @notcrypticbutcoy: Have I already recced this fic? Yeah, pretty sure I have. Will I do so again? Undoubtedly!

Summary:

Jace froze. His parabatai rune burned white-hot, but he hardly felt it. It was easy to forget what people looked like, long ago, but the image of the boy in front of him was unmistakable, even with the emo fringe and the scowl. In fact, when combined with the defensive stance, hazel eyes, and still-healing cut through his left eyebrow, it made the whole thing more convincing.

“What the fuck.”   ***

Teenage Alec is magically poofed into the time of his forty-year-old self, and what he finds is really quite overwhelming. Especially the really hot guy he’s apparently married to.

Or: in which Teen Alec is very grumpy, Magnus thinks he’s very cute, and Adult Alec is Tired™.

If My Heart Was A House You'd Be Home by magnusbicon: Max and Raphael do some more time travelling and create just a tickle of chaos (can you tell I adore those two beans).

Summary:

Prompt: Max and Rafe accidentally time travel to present day during a Downworld cabinet meeting.

it doesn’t matter (if it’s now or then) by @soveryaverageme: Soulmate AU meets time travel, what more could you want? 😁

Summary:

Alec’s words were branded across his right forearm, spiraling towards his shoulder. The phrase “I’m Magnus, I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced?” was stark across his skin, as bold as his own love. They were a comfort and a reminder every time he drew his bow back to fire another arrow. He knew every curve and bend of his words. He could trace them without looking. 

He had never seen Magnus’ words, but he knew was that they weren’t his.

#Malec fic rec #also @laws #I am still waiting for that Jace fic #You know which one #(Sais with no pressure whatsoever)

[bittersweetresilience]

say hi to me i don't know, i just remembered being so much brighter, i guess

cigarette ash like wildfire burning holes in the nighttime open scars feel like barbed wire white lies flying high like a ceasefire dropping flags on the shoreline this is as far as i can feel right 'cause what you don't know can haunt you

and all we ever wanted was sunlight and honesty highlights to want to repeat let's get away from here and live like the movies do i won't mind when it's over at least i didn't think for a while

don't drag it out living like that doesn't mean a thing

so let's, make a great escape and i'll be waiting outside for the getaway it doesn't matter who we are we'll keep running through the dark and all we'll ever need is another day we can slow down 'cause tomorrow is a mile away and live like shooting stars 'cause happy endings hardest to fake

and i wanna let you know i wanna let you go but i just can't bring myself to speak but this is how it goes the end credits, they roll this bridge was built over kerosene but we can watch it and all i ever wanted was sunlight and honesty highlights to want to repeat let's get away from here and live like the movies do i won't mind when it's over at least i didn't think

so let's run, make a great escape and i'll be waiting outside for the getaway it doesn't matter who we are we'll keep running through the dark and all we'll ever need is another day we can slow down 'cause tomorrow is a mile away and live like shooting stars you can wish away forever but you'll never find a thing like today

#miraculous ladybug #felix fathom #marinette dupain cheng #felix graham de vanily #🌃 #ml amv #felinette felinette felinette FELINETTE #i'm shrimping so hard i'm gromping i'm making absolute tempura #yes the 2 am coco pops félix post was made while i was finishing this yes i am constantly experiencing inconsolable félix feelings #félings even. GOD GOD GOD okay listen #i could do a line by line analysis of this song and how i made the amv i have too many thoughts to put in the tags i am exploding #but in summary REPRESENTATION. REPRESENTATION. EMOTION. REPRESENTATION. EMOTION. REPLIQUE. FUCK ME #félix's trauma an open scar leading her to the art room as far as both of them will go to feel right #ALL HE EVER WANTED WAS TO KEEP ADRIEN AND THEN MARINETTE SAFE #it doesn't matter who we are we'll keep running through the dark huAHUAHHGAG I MTHRWOING UP it's how he doesn't care what she thinks of him #how she sees him whether she hates him he's Chosen her as someone to protect and he will DO IT he will TAKE HER WHEN HE RUNS #i don't care if you beat me i know i have this under control and i'm protecting you and everything is going to be okay EXPLOIDNGNIG #tomorrow is a mile away tomorrow where i find out who you are tomorrow where we have to come apart #this is how it GOES you're the hero i'm the villain adrien is the lover i'm the monster i'm the cousin #marinette and félix and Knowing each other is so #THEY DESERVE SO MANY OTHER DAYS THEY DESERVE TO SLOW DOWN AND BE WITH EACH OTHER AND NOT HAVE TOMORROW PULL EVERYTHING AWAY AND UAHAUHGAUGH #i'm not well about them. félix and freedom and escape #ALSO i have so many feelings about félix cherishing the people he wants to save so much he was willing to do the same thing that led to #his own trauma and use the peacock miraculous TWICE. ARE YOU KIDDING ME ARE YOU KIDDING ME #you can read it differently but right now come with me ARE YOU KIDDING ME #also ALSO i often think about how felinette standing in front of réplique is a reference to pv felinette #and me placing that directly before the wish is a nod to how the pv was rewritten into canon miraculous. a meta wish... felinette remains #but also in universe you can wish away the world that once was and you'll still never find another thing quite like félix #and who you were and could have been to each other today... cherish him marinette... please cherish him for me #i hit tag limit on this essay so i'm not tagging the episodes i used in the amv but i used all eight félix episodes as always

[chiropteracupola]

just a couple of creepy 18th-century innkeepers talking shop!

[featuring @borisyvain's lazarus mcclure and my own james webster]

#em draws stuff #oc time again hehe #haunted by your hand #the gambler: james webster #really I should start having an 'other people's characters' tag again as well... #so yes I have thought about these two being Brothers In Homosexual Haunted Murderhotel for long enough that a drawing happened #I do not know Where they are in this image (esp. as I have aged james up by some 30ish years so as to be able to Interact with mr mcclure) #(which is why she's looking a bit mellower than usual and also wearing teal... Character Development which as of regular hbyh has not #yet come to pass.....) #eh who knows maybe james went to ireland. she can have a little a go to ireland hang out with other horrible people as a treat #she deserves a little treat for making it to the 1780s-1790s (no one thought she was making it of the 1760s alive I am sure) #surprisingly this was a delightful refresher as I have been in a state of artblock/only interested in drawing things I can't work on in #public spaces lately! but this came together in barely two hours (admittedly after four days of staring at pictures of mr mcclure) #anyway if you read this far you should all go look at jory's blog his characters are SO cool and well-researched #james will someday be more well-researched than she currently is but that will be after I get around to reading 'the english pub 1500-1830' #which I found in the library and was so brave and strong and Did Not check out so as to actually maybe get schoolwork done

[the-magpie-archives]

One thing that's fascinating about Daisy as a character is that she's so powerfully slow. Not in wit or intellect, but physically, as a hunter. She knows her power and she has no need to rush or flail, it's easy to be calm when you have no difficulty asserting yourself.

This makes it all the more clear when the power slips from her grasp. She rushes, fumbles, makes mistakes. There's very few times that she slips up, early on at least. Aside from a few select moments she maintains the gravitas and power of a wolf or a bear all the way from her introduction to the coffin, but after the coffin things change.

Basira has every reason to be upset at her change, because after that trauma Daisy becomes a different thing entirely. Her demeanour changes, she speeds up, she's skittish, she loses her strength. She's no longer slow and certain but weak and clingy.

It might feel wrong to want that slow and steady person back but relationships are like music and if the tempo changes the balance shifts and that can lead to terrible things, things that cause you to lose eachother.

Am I saying that perhaps if Daisy had somehow managed to avoid traumatisation, keep her tempo stable, that she wouldn't have had to sacrifice herself?

Maybe.

Even in her early moments of irrationality there is a swift calculation to it, an understanding. If Daisy had been able to keep a grasp on her fierce intellect perhaps the violence of the hunt could have been suppressed!

But no, what use is there in thinking like that? After all, animals can never live as long as humans.

#Ah she's just so delightfully problematic.... I love a character with no real redeeming traits but their relationships... #Like yes girl! Show us that human connection is formed on a personal level outside of Morals!! #But she's also hot and queer and angry so that definitely helps.... #Acab as always but it's impossible not to love daisy as a person (or nonperson) #tma #the magnus archives #the magnus institute #tma analysis #tma meta #daisy tonner #daisy tma #basira hussain #jonathan sims #tma the hunt #tma the buried #Tw mentions of death #Also if you read this far in the tags you deserve to know that this post came into my head at 1am and I couldn't sleep til I wrote it #I'm being tormented by tma and the only way to survive is by posting about it

[mishtershpock]

.

#okay i’m gonna try to keep this short and sweet. 30 tag maximum you are my nemesis lol #my main issue here is not necessarily that the karaoke and other bach party scenes have likely been cut #it’s more that they’re clearly buddie baiting for engagement #journalists were watching the episode as early as saturday. which means the ep was ready by at least this time last week #so they knew that the scenes had been cut. and they chose to continue including it in promotion and interviews #i KNOW that logically the reason they chose those scenes to cut was because they’re less important. and we’d already seen them #they technically already gave us the clips in the promo videos. right? so bye bye #but that’s bullshit. sorry #they used buddie best friendism content as a way to promote the ep and increase hype #and then they just pull it out from under us the day before it airs #this is a madney episode. madney are getting married. buddie having fun is not the most important thing here. i get it #so why did they not promote something else? you’re telling me there was NOTHING ELSE they could’ve used? #nothing else from the episode that was free of big spoilers? at all??? #it’s madney’s episode but they chose to promote one clip of buddie talking to maddie. one of chim crawling. and the bach party stuff #they must know that people would focus on the bach party. buddie is beloved buck and eddie are beloved #what were they expecting?? #they used buddie as a pairing as bait. not queer bait and not even ship bait i suppose as there was nothing ‘shippy’ shown #but they baited buddie content. that’s literally what’s happened #i would be more understanding if this wasn’t a regular occurrence. it’s normal sure. shows do this all the time with fan faves #but also it is a false reflection of the episode. even journalists are saying the episode is not what they expected from the promo #it honestly feels like they’ve made fools of us. maybe the episode will air and it’ll be better than expected #but i don’t have much hope not much hope for buddie. not much hope for madney getting what they deserve. ZERO hope for eddie’s 7b storyline #frankly i’m expecting b/t to be the main chat after this ep. which is……. anyway #i’m not really liking s7 so far and i feel gaslit when people say it’s great lol #IN MY OPINION it is choppy and too fast and a little ooc and doesn’t make a lot of sense #they didn’t even green light bi!buck until episode. what. 2/3?? #so presumably had to change everything from then on #i know that’s partly down to limited episode numbers but… 3 eps for the cruise (unnecessary) but 1 for madney wedding? ok #sigh. if anyone’s read this far pls don’t come for me ok. these are just my opinions #we’re all entitled to them. i’m sad for madney and i’m sad for buddie best friendism and i’m sad for s7 as a whole right now

[l-cereta]

oh my god u know the hrt is working when u get genuinely white girl drunk

#ive never been this drunk before this is crazy. the gender euphoria of not having any tolerance despite being able to drink 4 drinks a year #ago #like its that or someone Did something to this drink but it was from a housemate's stash. oh my god i wanted more of this im so glad im in #bed rn i could have made so many bad decisions #im like this close to posting one of the thirst(?) pics i took on my sideblog that i havent touched in a month #oh my god im fucking up so many words . gang im not pretending here i drank like 2 shots tops and its Fucking me somehow #WAIT I CAN EDIT TAGS #typos fixed :sunglasses: #genuinely crazy how much im feeling it tho ive literally Never felt it this much. id ask if ibuprofen or spiro interact w alcohol but i #think there was a decent amount of time between when i took both #yeah like i took spiro ~10:57 and then uh drank after. 11 hm ok this isnt as spaced out as i expected #i dont think im going to alcohol jail tho. im being responsible im In Bed im not gonna go do anything stupid (altho i do. want to ask #someone downstairs to do something stupid. but maybe thats the alcohol talking) #also shileas is downstairs and shes a bitch and i dont want to be cringy in front of her #i dont know if shes trans or just a really masc lesbian btw . shes cool but she also has some bad takes sometimes and i dont think she #likes me #im writng so many tags <3 but thats what love is. if anyones read this far idk like the post or something #you know the one post where the person puts an egg in their mouth. and then people share the tags. this is that #i was gonna be typing this out on a discord server but i thought no. this deserves to have everyone see it #man also if i went down and asked like if anyone wants to fuck like who would say yes . shileas is a super senior maeve is in a relationshi #p #i dont like riley and . man idk about griffin. but i think im a lesbian. maybe im just desperate. #bUT IM NOT GONNA. im not gonna. #i dont want to sleep tho i want to have fun :(( but my roommate is asleep #& its not like anyones gonna fuck me on this bed . with like my lovies (thats what i call my stuffed animals) and shit . #i genuinely didnt expect that i could get this drunk and whats crazy is i know i could be more drunk #can u imagine if someone reads this and goes 'well shes clearly sober and faking it' no </3 im simply very eloquent i was neglected as #a child so i read alot lol #whoops *a lot not alot #wasnt there a limit of like 26 tags. when do i hit that

[yume-fanfare]

something about how there's like two actual double pages in the entirety of the jshk manga and one of them was for mitsuba's transformation in the hell of mirrors arc

#and it's deserved! it's something that completely changed the story for kou! #the other one is hananene's big moment in the picture perfect arc #(and there is also an almost double page of a Huge black and white radish yashiro earlier in the hell of mirrors arc too lol) #it is impactful as well but it makes me wonder if they were tight on time those months lol #bc really it was a lot of merit that such a long and beautifully drawn manga has so few double pages because that means drawing More #also im going to kinda spoil some parts of the arc in the next tags so don't read them if u don't want spoilers for that alksjdmlkjdm #like its kinda vague but still spoilery #this september's chapter was wild but the hell of mirrors arc is still the most bloody one i think #everything in it is still so insane to me #especially the face kou makes after seeing that #it's still my most favorite example of panel build up #as in leaving the cliffhanger for the Next page always so it makes you want to turn it #like its so!!! #you get this terrific double page #the first one in the manga so far #a boy‚ disfigured #bloody #kneeling in front of a skeleton #and you‚ the reader‚ know what has happened in the middle‚ between this scene and his last one‚ and you know that it was something horrible #and you had been waiting for this reunion! #you had been waiting for so long‚ even if it had seemed impossible! #and now it seems like it's the worst possible moment #and then when you're about to see kou's reaction‚ his full face‚ you have to turn the page #and when you do‚ he is not horrified or scared or grossed out #he is smiling! #he has the softest smile you've seen on him‚ relieved‚ incredibly happy‚ tearing up #it just gets me every single time! #and it's the first time anyone has looked at mitsuba like that. #every single of their reunions has made my breath stop i really can't wait for the next one #its such a powerful scene for real

[antisocialsocialite]

(dont mind the terrible quality, aiming for efficiency, not artistry for this)

(trying to determine what colour she'll dye her hair in the fic i'm working on)

#death note #misa misa #misa amane #poll #tumblr polls #hairstyle #death note poll #if you've read this far into the tags #then you deserve to know #matsuda will also have a small streak of this colour in his hair #misa really wanted light to do it #but ofc light wasn't having any of it #antisocialsocialite

[auzzyash]

okok so this is different than my usual sun and moon show posts but- I picked up Trials of Apollo (from the Percy Jackson series) from the library a few months ago. I enjoyed books 1, 2, 3, and 4...but I forgot to get the 5th book, so I had to wait to finish the series. I finished the series on friday, and I haven't been posting much in these past two days because I've been really fixated on ToA. (yes, I am an apollogist. Yes, I think that Apollo is a complex character that deserves more attention than he gets from the Percy Jackson series. I will die on this hill.) So...I've been thinking, I REALLY want to share my thoughts and theories with the rest of the ToA community on tumblr. But I don't want to do it here, cause ya'll followed for Sun and Moon show, not Percy Jackson. So...should I post all my Percy Jackson stuff (which will mainly be ToA, ToA is very underrated) here, or should I create a different account? Please leave your honest opinions! Also, if you're a Percy Jackson fan, and you want to leave hate on ToA, then go ahead and do it lol. I find it amusing. ToA seems to be mainly disliked/ignored by the rest of the Percy Jackson fandom (prolly because Apollo is a god and all the other books are focused on demigods, so people assume it won't be as interesting), and I find it funny when a "REAL PERCY JACKSON FAN!!1!!1!" hates on it 🤣🤣

#apollogists #not sun and moon show related #ToA deserves more attention #fight me #I will die on this hill #if u want to hate on ToA please do #I love it lol its so funny to read #no but seriously like Apollo is just as capable of being deep as all the other characters??? #like yall give him some love too #Nico and Will literally have more attention than him #and they only have one book of their series published so far #like what the fuck #Just to let all you percy jackson fans (who didn't read ToA) know... #Apollo is one of the most complex (in a very likeable way) characters in the series. I love him. Give him more attention #ha ya'll thought he was all tough??? naah hes a teddy bear #he cries more than all the other characters but together #why am I going crazy on the tags #is this what being an a03 writer is like #Also Artemis is also very cool #OH AND ALSO #if you don't read ToA #you might not discover Meg #which i find very #like very very very very very very very very #VERY sad #Percy Jackson #ToA #why did I only think now to add those tags #what the fuck

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — GOJO SATORU x FEM READER

Gojo “my girl is mad at me I hope I die” Satoru

wc — 600

tags — fluff, companion piece to modern intimacy so you’re also married in this one, love as annoyance 

Gojo looks like he tried to drown himself in the shower. 

If you hadn’t just mopped the floor, you might be tempted to give in and beckon him over to cuddle. As it is, your annoyance is only mildly tempered by how adorable he is. You suspect this was his plan all along. 

“Go dry your hair,” you tell him coldly, hardly even giving him a glance after his first step into the room. 

He pouts, which you were expecting. He should really learn some new tricks at this point. You make a shooing gesture at him to drive home the point. 

Instead, he clambers down next to your feet, all six feet and two inches of him compressed down to fit his head into your lap. Gojo’s so lanky it gives you the impression of a Jenga tower collapsing in on itself to watch him get on his knees. 

“But you’re mad at me,” he whines. Chilly droplets are seeping into your thighs. 

“I’ll be madder if you keep getting my pants wet. Go on, you’ll catch a cold.” 

“I deserve it.” 

“Gojo.” 

You say it as if you’re short of patience, when really, you’re far from it. You’re enjoying this way too much. 

He turns his head so he can look up at you. His hair falls into his eyes, making him look like a sad, wet puppy, shivering at your feet for mercy. It’s an act, of course. 

He’s the strongest man in the world. Still, you feel your heart melting as you would for any poor abandoned creature. You brush his bangs out of his face, trying to hold onto your weakening resolve. 

He knows he’s got you. It’s just a matter of time. 

“I can’t live with myself,” he says. “If you’re going to be mad at me, you should just kill me. It would be easier-“ 

“Don’t be dramatic,” you say, but that’s when he strikes the killing blow. 

He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he just looks at you with eyes that are suspiciously shiny, his pretty pink lips in a soft frown. You sigh and put the book you were trying to read down. 

“Go get the hairdryer.” 

Gojo perks up immediately. You stay on the sofa. He sits on the ground between your legs as you run your hands through his hair, moving section by section. It fluffs up as hot air moves over it. 

“Are you still mad?” 

“Want to take a guess?” 

He turns around so fast he almost hits himself in the face with the hairdryer in your hand. 

“I’ll never do it again, I swear.” 

“You swear?” You’re teasing. 

Gojo places one hand over his heart and raises the other like he’s making a pledge. You’re the only nation he’d ever devote himself to, anyway. “You know my motto is happy wife, happy life.” 

“I don’t know, actually.” You laugh. “Did you just come up with that?” 

“Now you’re just being mean,” he says. 

“I’m glad you picked up on it,” you say dryly. 

You like him pathetic. It appeals to your worst nature, the one that kind of wants to pinch him just to see him cry. You don’t know when you developed such feelings, and you’re certainly not sadistic towards anyone else, but Gojo just provokes you. It’s what he does. He’s good at being annoying. 

But you love that part of him, just as much as you love the part of him that can’t live without your attention. 

“You really learned your lesson?” You ask. “You won’t do it again?” 

“And go through this again? You kidding?” 

You pinch his cheek in annoyance, but he just laughs and wraps his arms around you, ignoring the way you try to wriggle away. 

“Your hair isn’t dry yet!”

“Doesn’t matter,” he says, rubbing his cheek against yours. His shampoo smells good. “Happy husband, happy wife.” 

He knows you too well for you to disagree. 

#sera writes #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojou x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo fluff #gojou fluff #jjk fluff

[sugrhigh]

THE BOY IS MINE - ( m.s )

REQUESTED**

summary- after years of friendship, you’ve seen matt date people before, but none of them have been as bad as this new one. you’ve never interfered with any of the girls in the past, but one night she takes it too far and your true feelings come out.

warnings- cursing, unprotected sex (pretend ur on birth control but also wrap it before you tap it), choking, cheating, dom!matt, it’s smut with a plot guys are we surprised (read at ur own fucking discretion PLEASE!)

a/n: thank you @stonermattsgf for the request!! i fucking loved this concept and the song eats down i hope i did u some justice <3 the touch it chris fic will be coming too cuz im fuckin with that song as well (if you weren’t tagged it wouldn’t let me tag you, i’m sorry!!)

@fawnchives @teapartyprincess4two @sturnioloco @mattinside @l9vesick @sturnsblunt @ev3rgreenxtrees @wh0resstuff @matthewsmocktails @cherrypostsposts @bxbynyah7 @seababehh @sturnsfav @mattsluv @sturniolossss @melanch0lybby @sturniolos-blog @lustfulslxt @sturnioloobssesd @ginswife @amypull @vivianalovesmatt @st4niolos @sturnioloobessed @sturnlova @bigbeefybitch @minhyucks @iheart-zegras @vicsguitarr @melonjollyranche @hearts4matty @vickyzloserz @user8000000 @xoxo4chrisss @unfilteredassmf @mattsbiggesthoe @chrisstopherfilmed @st3rniolo @goldengrapejuice @luv2matt @vsangel-starbies @mikaelabutterfield @mattnchrisworld @bluesturniolo333 @wurlibydominicfike @kp07on @hayleyreadsblog

in no universe did you expect to be pining after one of your best friends.

it had always been strictly platonic between you and matt, aside from a little harmless flirting over the years. you loved him and his brothers so much that you never wanted to mess anything up, or complicate things when the dynamic was already perfect.

but as much as you’re close with each of them, you know you’ve always understood matt on a deeper level. you share the same goals, the same fears, even the same taste in music and movies.

he’s always been the first person to check in, the only one who can read your mood like the back of his hand, the guy who cheers you up and lets you cry on his shoulder when things are shitty.

despite these sweet gestures, you’ve both had your fair share of relationships and flings while being best friends. none of them have ever bothered you before, and you’ve always tried to be respectful and kind to whichever girl he picks.

that is, until now.

matt is sitting across from you on the couch in their living room, slight frown etched on his face. his girlfriend, maya, has her legs sprawled across his lap comfortably, arms linked like she’s claiming him.

her eyes are practically locked on you. you don’t blame her; she’s well aware that you’re not her biggest fan.

all she does is complain about all of the things she doesn’t like about matt. last time she hung out with you guys, she was bitching about the fact that he kissed her in public at a party, as if she was worried he was scaring off other guys.

when he buys her flowers, they’re the wrong ones. if he takes her to dinner, she whines about the food. she’ll even criticize his clothes, demanding that they match and he hides the tattoos. to her, he can’t do anything right, even though he’s incredible just the way he is.

so it drives you absolutely insane watching the way she walks all over matt, all over his brothers, even you. it’s been two months of this agony, and you can’t believe it’s even lasted this long.

you spend nearly every day thinking about how much better you could treat him. every time he touches you, no matter how briefly, your skin burns in desire. it’s selfish to want someone who’s taken, and you’re well aware of that.

but you just love matt, you know him. and he deserves better. maybe it’s you, maybe it’s not. but it’s certainly not maya.

“give it to me, fuckhead.” chris’s voice rips you out of your trance, and you snap your head toward the middle of the U-shaped sofa.

he’s currently fighting nick for the remote, who slaps the side of his arm rather hard. chris lets go, only to pull his brother into a headlock seconds later. nick lets out a yelp of surprise, jamming an elbow into his side to get him to stop.

in all the commotion, you decide to grab the remote for yourself, a wide smile settling across your features as you take it into your palm.

they both notice quickly, groaning in protest as you wave it at them tauntingly.

“too slow! now i get to pick, idiots.” you tease.

“c’mon, i just went to war for that thing.” nick complains, kicking your leg half-heartedly, but you just shake your head.

“snooze you lose.”

you scroll through your options, trying to pay no mind to the way maya is whispering to matt for so long she could be reciting the bible. then your eyes land on a title that makes you pause, chuckling a little to yourself.

“oh no way, they have fucking cocaine bear on here?” chris cackles.

nick looks rather amused himself, raising his eyebrows like he’s intrigued. “i mean, i’m game.”

you glance over at matt, who’s already looking at you with a grin on his face. he mentioned the movie to you a little while ago, and how he just had to see how stupid it was eventually.

“why would we waste our time watching this shit? isn’t it supposed to be awful?” maya chimes from beside him, and your gaze narrows in on her.

“it’ll be funny, you know, ‘cause it’s so bad.” you reply, trying to keep your voice light and friendly.

she tilts her head to the side slightly, studying you with disapproving eyes. “yeah, i’m not so sure about trusting your taste. i mean, that god-awful outfit is just one example.”

the air seems to be sucked out of the room as you grip your sweats self-consciously. nobody moves, nobody speaks. you feel the anger flare up in your veins as you look at matt, wondering if he’s going to step in like he should.

but he doesn’t. in fact, he’s avoiding your gaze altogether. so you square your shoulders and turn your focus back to the girl you dislike so much. you’re done with the passive aggressive comments, with all of the bullshit glares and insults.

you’re done letting her bulldoze you. if matt wants to go through that, fine. but he doesn’t have to take everyone down with him by subjecting them to maya’s presence.

“well, you seem to be the only one who has a problem with my taste, so maybe you should just leave.” you say calmly, smiling sarcastically at the end because you can’t help it.

her mouth pops open, and you can hear chris and nick trying to stifle their gasps and chuckles. even the corner of matt’s lips turn up, which makes you wonder.

maya turns to look at her boyfriend, completely astonished. “are you seriously going to let her talk to me like that?”

he seems conflicted as he briefly looks your direction, clearing his throat to buy some time. you tilt an eyebrow, crossing your arms like you’re just waiting for him to pick his side.

she may have asked the question, but now you’re dying to know the answer.

“maya is right. and, uh, i think you should apologize.” matt fumbles with his words, unable to speak to you directly.

you feel the fury work its way up your face, and you force yourself to blink away the burning sensation of frustrated tears. maya looks far too satisfied, and you want to slap the smirk off of her face.

but you know you can’t lay hands on her, so you decide your words will have to be your knives.

“you know what, i am sorry,” you begin, raising your hands in surrender.

they’re both a bit surprised by this change in direction, so after a brief pause, you continue.

“i’m really sorry that you’re dating a stuck up bitch. i’m sorry that she’s constantly taking advantage of your kindness. i’m sorry that she treats you like shit, that she talks down to you like you’re a child, that she’s never satisfied with the things you do. and i’m especially sorry that you continue to let her, because you can do so much better.”

if maya’s eyeballs could pop out of her skull, you would imagine it would be exactly like how she looks right now. matt is also slack jawed beside her, and you can’t be near him any longer.

so you stand up, turning to leave the boy you love so much without another word.

the fresh night air of spring is a relief once you step out the front door, and you try to let it calm you as you hustle toward your car. you can already feel your phone buzzing in your back pocket as you move, presumably nick and chris.

you hope they’re not angry. it’s bad enough knowing that you’ve royally fucked things up with matt, but you couldn’t bare it if all three of them hated you.

you practically toss yourself into the drivers seat, slamming the door closed with a force that shakes the entire vehicle. you’re peeling out of the driveway before you can even reflect on the consequences of your actions, speeding home as if your life depended on it.

your ringtone continues to erupt as you drive along the backroads, but you force yourself to ignore it for the time being.

only once you throw the car into park in your own driveway do you check the messages, scrolling through the numerous notifications. unsurprisingly most of them are from nick and chris like you presumed, wondering if you’re alright and applauding you for finally standing up to the wicked witch of the west.

for a brief moment, their kind words make you feel better.

but then your eyes catch a contact that you actually don’t expect; matt’s. you stare at your device, throat going completely dry. a missed call and two texts.

matt

i’m coming over

don’t bother saying no, im already on my way

that was five minutes ago, which means he’s not too far behind you. you tear out of your car and across the yard, throwing the door open carelessly.

your heart is still slamming against your ribcage, and fear crawls up your throat as you press your back to the wood, kicking your flip flops off in the general direction of the coat rack.

your mind flashes to the idea of him yelling at you, which you suppose would be somewhat warranted. you’ve seen matt angry on a couple of occasions, and you can’t imagine he has anything kind to say to you right now.

you pace the foyer as you wait for his arrival, picking at the beds of your fingernails anxiously.

and then it happens; the loud knock on the front door, followed by another series of harsh slams.

impatient motherfucker.

you straighten up as your palm wraps around the knob, sucking in a breath before pulling it open to reveal a rather disheveled matt.

he’s breathing heavy, hair messy as if he’s been tugging at it for the entire drive. his earrings glint in the porch light as he stares at you like he’s trying to commit every feature to memory, wetting his lips hungrily.

“matt—”

you barely get his name out before he wraps his ring-clad fingers around your throat, pulling your mouth to his harshly. he molds against you perfectly, his other hand traveling to your hip to hold you flush against his own body.

he just couldn’t help it. he was so desperate on the entire ride over, replaying your outburst on a loop in his mind as he drove further and further away from his girlfriend. there’s been only a few occasions he’s seen you that upset, and your comments had been a necessary slap in the face.

plus, watching you fight for him when he was too much of a bitch to do it himself was a bigger turn-on than he’d like to admit.

all he’s ever wanted is you. and it shouldn’t have taken this long to admit it to himself.

matt guides you backwards, hand still squeezing your neck as he blindly kicks the door shut with one foot. you feel your back bump against the kitchen counter, and you’re trying to register what the hell is going on, but his kiss is so fucking intoxicating that it’s impossible to think clearly.

his tongue slides against yours passionately, and the flavored chapstick you’re wearing is driving him insane. you can feel him growing hard against your thigh as he toys with the elastic waistband of your pants suggestively.

you have no idea if this means it’s officially over with him and maya, but you find that you quite frankly don’t give a shit.

in this moment, he’s yours.

his fingers finally dip into your sweats a few seconds later, traveling down to brush against your clothed heat as he moves his mouth to your jaw sloppily. a breathy moan escapes before you can stop it, involuntarily rutting your hips against his cold rings in search of more friction.

one of your hands goes to grip the hair at the nape of his neck while the other claws at his back, desperately wrapping your knuckle around the cloth of his muscle tee.

“you like that?” matt grumbles against your throat, nipping at the skin as he begins to apply real pressure to your cunt in little circular motions.

your back arches and you tilt your head to the side so you can give him full access, silently hoping he’ll leave a mark behind.

“you’ve been thinking about me touching you like this, haven’t you? wishing i would come fuck you instead of her?” he questions further, moving his head slightly so he’s speaking directly into your ear.

the hand that was choking you slides down so he can grope your chest, his thumb running over one of your hardened nipples through the thin shirt you’re wearing. the combined pleasure has you whining in his grasp, a submissive sound that you wish you weren’t making.

you can feel him grinning as he presses his mouth to that sweet spot below your earlobe, his tongue darting out to wet the area.

“you want me just as much.” you manage to find your voice, though your claim is muttered with no conviction.

matt pauses his movements and brings both hands to your waistband again, which makes you whimper as you clench around nothing. his mouth finds yours briefly to swallow the sound, and he bites down on your bottom lip as he pulls away.

“you’re not wrong. so are you gonna give me what i want, baby?” he asks as he teases your sweats and panties just a little lower on your hips.

“keep going.” you plead.

you let go of your grip on his body so he can tug both items down to your ankles, helping you step out of their grasp before discarding them a couple feet away.

matt doesn’t immediately stand back up; instead he takes his time, kissing the side of your knees as his hands slide up the outside of your thighs. you feel so exposed, so on-display that you clench your legs together before you can help it.

he immediately pries them apart, shaking his head slightly with a little smirk. “don’t be shy now, you had so much to say earlier.”

his words spur you on, so you spread yourself wider, opting to grip the counter as he reattaches his lips to your inner thighs. matt inches closer and closer to where you really need him, taking his time to nip at the supple flesh that comes before.

he pulls away right when you think he’s finally about to put his mouth on you, letting his hot breath fan across your soaked center. it makes you shiver in anticipation, and you’re getting a little too needy now.

“quit fucking teas—oh shit.”

you throw your head back as his two fingers spread you apart, tongue coming in contact with the middle of your cunt as he laps at the wetness that had pooled there.

he slows his pace slightly after a moment, making sure to pay attention to the whole area, working his way up until his nose bumps against your clit. you spit a curse out, letting one hand go so you can grip his soft hair.

matt continues on, his lips closing around the sensitive bud so he can apply more pressure and suction. your gut flips at the sensation and your grip on his roots tightens as his mouth works.

he grumbles, loving the way you’re pulling at him so desperately. the noise sends vibrations through your core, which only makes the experience more enjoyable.

“fuckkk, matt, feels so good.” you praise dumbly, your words slurring.

the vocal admiration makes his pulse quicken, and at this point he’s straining against his jeans. he just can’t believe he’s got you like this, grinding your cunt against his face as if he’s the best you’ve ever had.

he can tell you’re growing closer just based on the little gasps and moans leaving your mouth, and your legs begin to shake ever so slightly. but he won’t let you finish just yet.

“want to be inside this pretty pussy.” he pulls away to say it, pressing one more wet kiss to the delicate area before he gets up.

you’re craving more, so you decide to take initiative, reaching for his belt and fumbling to undo the buckle. you tear it from the loops and toss it away, moving to his zipper as he reaches behind his head to tug his loose tank off.

his pants fall to the floor, leaving him in only his tented boxers. he’s quick to kick his shoes off, followed by his jeans right after.

then his hands go to your waist, fingers digging into the smooth flesh.

“up.” he instructs bluntly, helping lift you onto the end of the marbled countertop so he’s standing between your legs.

he lifts your shirt up next, and you help him out by throwing your arms above your head so he can fully remove it. his eyes train downwards, admiring the way your sheer bra hugs your tits. it hardly leaves anything to the imagination, and matt finds it extremely hot that you’ve been wearing it all night without him knowing.

before he can make a move, you surprise him by reaching back confidently to unhook the garment yourself. you let it slip from your shoulders before throwing it to your side, revealing your bare chest to him wordlessly.

he pulls his lip between his teeth as he exhales, gently guiding you downwards so your back is pressed flat against the cool surface. matt looks intimidating standing over you, his dark eyes drinking in every inch of your body.

“you’re so fucking sexy.” he says in awe, leaning down to give you another real kiss, a salty mix of sweat and arousal on his lips.

then he finds his way down to your collarbone, staying there shortly before traveling between the valley of your breasts. without warning, he presses his tongue flat across one nipple, flicking it back and forth.

you push your chest further into his face with a moan, both hands in his hair this time. he moves to the other perky bud, sucking on it as his teeth graze the tissue ever so slightly.

you’re practically writhing underneath him, and you can feel the pit growing in your stomach again. so even though it feels incredible, you yank his head back off of your chest by his hair.

“need you to fuck me.” you mutter, pushing his hair out of his face with both of your hands.

matt nods once, straightening so he can slide his underwear down. his erection finally springs free, pink tip glistening with precum. you watch as he spreads the wetness around, pumping himself in his hand a few times.

he’s bigger than you expected, and your mouth is watering just thinking about how much you want him to be pounding into you already.

“wrap your legs around me princess.” he commands gruffly, and you do just as you’re told, hooking your ankles behind his back.

his dick presses against your heat, and you buck against it to try and feel more. matt is quick to steady your hips roughly, holding you down against the edge of the counter as he teases himself into your entrance.

you both moan, his low and rumbling, yours high-pitched and greedy. you use your thighs to pull him closer, forcing him to drive into you fully so you can feel that pleasurable stretch.

“mmmn—fuck, you’re so tight.” he sighs, giving you another moment before he begins to drag his cock in and out at a steady pace.

you rock with him as best you can, finding the perfect rhythm so that he’s plowing his full length into you, filling the house with the sound of skin slapping skin.

matt lets one hand wrap around your neck again to choke you, tattoos on display as his muscles flex, and the pressure traps your lewd cries in your throat. his other fingers continue to toy with your nipples, which makes you arch off the counter, head rolled back as your eyes screw shut.

“look at you, taking me like such a good girl. just like i knew you would.” he compliments breathlessly.

he starts snapping his hips harder, enjoying the way your tits bounce as you slide slightly against the slick counter. you look so fucking beautiful, mouth partially open, barely able to squeak out a moan.

never in a million years did matt think he’d get the opportunity to fulfill all of his shamefully dirty fantasies about you, but here you are, completely naked and spread out in your own kitchen.

you’re squeezing around him now with every stroke, and he somehow keeps getting deeper, hitting your g-spot in a way that makes you jerk.

the familiar feeling of your abs tightening occurs as you get closer to your orgasm, and you swear you’re seeing stars at this point. he’s right there with you, a groaning mess as your fingers reach up to dig into his bicep.

“yes, matt, right there! m’gonna—” you fumble over your words, unable to finish the thought as the satisfaction builds.

he uses the last of his strength to drill into you, moving both hands back to your waist quickly so he can slam you down on his cock a few more times.

“come all over this dick baby, don’t hold back.”

you’re practically screaming his name as you hit your high, releasing all over him as his hot cum spills into you at the same time.

he slows his movements as you look up at him with bleary eyes, enjoying the last moments of being inside you before he pulls out. you feel your mixed arousal dripping out onto the counter, and you don’t even care that you’ll have to clean it up later.

that was completely worth the mess.

your chest continues to heave as you relish in the come down, dropping your thighs from his hips so he’s free to move around.

but matt stays between them, leaning down to capture your mouth with his one final time. it’s brief, but it means more than either of you truly understand.

he’s the one to break it first, pressing his forehead against yours before he speaks. “you’re incredible, you know that?”

you smile weakly, pushing against his chest to put some distance between the two of you. reality is creeping back in, reminding you that this was probably a one time thing.

“help me down?” you ask, and he complies.

matt lifts you a bit as you slide off the countertop, setting you back on real ground a second later. you’re not sure what to say as you stand before him, completely fucked out and terrified of whatever is coming next.

“so, um…i should probably get cleaned up.” you try to sound casual, even though you’re feeling anything but relaxed.

he immediately notices the switch in tone, the way you’re wrapping your arms around yourself like you’re trying to shrink away and hide. he’s also pretty sure he knows where this insecurity is coming from.

his fingers go to grip your chin gently, demanding that you look him in the face. your eyes widen as he brushes his thumb along your swollen bottom lip.

“i’m cutting things off with maya. i just…love you. and i’m sorry it took me so long.” matt finally admits.

it takes a second to click in your brain, but when it does a wide grin spreads across your face. butterflies erupt in your stomach, and you kiss the pad of his finger as he moves it along your mouth.

“i love you too, but i think you knew that already.” you tease playfully.

“yeah, maybe. but i like hearing you say it out loud.”

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #Spotify #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #fanfic

[lxclerc]

𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ─ 𝐜𝐥𝟏𝟔

summary... a reunion between old lovers after five years and charles can't keep his eyes off of you. or his thoughts for that matter. faceclaim... christina nadin pairing… charles leclerc x reader warning… none so far. petty charles.

note... this is going to be part of a series that includes both one shots and smau but can be read as a stand alone

series masterlist

main masterlist

part two → current (part three) → part four

charles is a mess. truthfully this is to be expected but after five years, he thought he would be better than this but alas, you’re still as magnetic as he remembered you to be – even more so, if he’s being completely honest with himself. 

you look different – older. where they used to be rounded, baby face is all sharp bones. your hair looks different, longer and styled. and you smell different too, no longer the floral scent you’ve been using since you turned fourteen. 

you’re a stranger, he thought. he no longer knows your favorite color or your favorite meal or if you still like strawberry yogurt. he doesn’t know your favorite show or what perfume you use. he doesn’t know you. you’re a stranger and yet your eyes still do that thing where it creases to the point of being close when you smile and you still run your hand over your hair in an attempt to subtly fix it and your eyes still looks like pooled honey when the sun shines on it. 

you’re so different, a practical stranger and yet so familiar, like going back to a childhood home finding everything in the wrong place yet still knowing your way around with your eyes closed. 

he’s staring. he knew he is and he knew the amount of trouble he’d get from his team for it. he knew that everyone on twitter was probably already freaking out about it. he had clear instructions to act like nothing had happened and that the leaked pictures didn’t exist all. he’s supposed to act like you’re just another interviewer and this is just another media obligation he’s forced to do and you’re no one to him but he can’t help it. he can’t pretend like you’re a stranger when you left such a big imprint in his soul and he doesn’t have every freckle and skin tag and every inch of your skin memorized. 

and so he stares. he stares at the way you shift in your seat in an attempt to get comfortable. he stares at the way the long sleeved white dress hugged your curves. he stares at the way you smile, the way you laugh. he stares and tries to remind his heart the way you’d left, the way he’d begged you stay. with you a few feet in front of him, closer than you’ve ever been in years, charles reminds himself the things he had to do to put himself back together after you broke him. 

he tells himself that he hates you the same way he has been telling himself for five years now. he hates you and the way you walked away from him so easily. he hates you and the way you moved on so quickly. he hates you now for the way you’re not even affected. he hates you for loving him only to leave him. 

“and that’s all for today, everyone,” you say with that dazzling smile that makes him dizzy. he needs to get away from you. you’re clouding his judgment and messing with his emotions. 

after making sure the camera has stopped rolling, charles quickly removes the mic attached to him. the smile drops from your face as you see him so desperately hurried to get away from you. though you supposed you deserved that. 

“mate, you good?” carlos asked him quietly as charles practically slams the mic on the table. he seems worried and charles hadn’t even realized how angry he looks right now. he glanced at you, watching as you discussed with the producer, the wind blowing at your hair and the careless smile on your face. he hates you but you’re also the most beautiful person he’s ever met. he hates you and he’s so fucking tired of wanting you. 

he forced a smile on his face for carlos’ sake. “fine.” 

he’s already walking away when you called his name, not like you had in the show – filled with fake friendliness. this time, his name rolled off your tongue effortlessly. you called his name like you had a thousand times before, like nothing has ever changed. the entire set was calling to him but he didn’t seem to hear. 

“charles,” you called and immediately, he stopped in his tracks. he only heard your call and somehow that made him angrier at himself than he ever could be at you. 

his face is empty and void of any emotions as he turns to you and you swallow down the lump in your throat as you force a smile at him. you hoped it doesn’t look as fake as it feels. “we need to take a picture. for social media.” 

he may as well have spat at you with the look in his eyes. it made you feel small. he makes you feel small and suddenly you’re eighteen again, so small and insignificant next to him. 

as you and the two ferrari drivers posed for the photo, both charles and carlos respectfully wrapped an arm around you. you can feel the heat of charles’ body next to you, seeping right through your dress and spreading across your skin. his cologne is different – more rich and expensive but somehow still so him but his aftershave is the same as it has been since he was fifteen, so familiar and comforting to you  and you almost can’t help but lean into him. 

he’s pulling away before you can gather your thoughts, already walking away from you. 

—

charles should be celebrating. he finished on the podium which is pretty much a miracle nowadays. in fact, it’s a miracle to even be finishing the race with how his season is going but he’s been pretty distracted the whole weekend, seemingly only ever able to get you out of his head whenever he’s going two hundred miles per hour. he almost wants to laugh if he doesn't feel so pathetic. it’s somehow still exactly like before - with him needing to find some ways to risk his life just to be able to get you out of his mind. 

drinking the night away as he wallowed in self pity due to the thought of you is also entirely too familiar. 

“mon pote, comment peux-tu encore la laisser te faire ça ?” hugo asked, watching him. “cela fait des années” mate, how are you still letting her do this to you?... it’s been years. 

charles only gave a sarcastic smile. he doesn’t entirely know the answer to do that either. apparently the years between the two of you didn’t matter because you still have the exact same reaction to him. you make him lose his fucking mind, unable to to think straight. he does things he says he never will when it comes to you. he becomes desperate and weak and unable to handle his own emotions. he doesn’t understand himself when you’re around. 

maybe that’s why you left in the first place. the two of you affected each other far too much. it’s entirely too easy to get lost in each other and forget about everything else. 

“elle a l'air différente. elle a aussi une odeur différente,” he says before taking another shot. you’re so different and he hated it. he hates that there are things in your life he doesn’t know anymore. he hates the fact that you changed your perfume and that you can so easily pretend like he’s no one to you. if you can act like he’s no one to you so easily then perhaps he didn’t mean as much to you as he thought he did. she looks different. she smells different too.

you were his lifeline, the air in his lungs. you were everything and he would have given up anything just to keep you. he would have given up racing and his dreams – everything so he didn’t have to lose you. 

joris rolls his eyes. he knows this entirely too well unfortunately, he’s seen this exact scene before. “cela fait cinq ans, charles. bien sûr qu'elle a changé.” it's been five years, charles. of course she's changed. 

that only makes him laugh bitterly. 

— 

on the other side of the city lies you, cocooned in your fleece blanket as you stare at the wall. 

throughout the years that you and charles have bumped into each other, it had mostly been just surprise in his eyes – as though he could never quite believe that you’re in front of him. usually, you’ll be gone before it can change. 

today was different. there’s no surprise in his eyes nor was there any of the familiar warmth you’re so used to. today, he was filled with anger and indifference. he looked at you as though he hated you. and the worst part is that he probably does. the entire time it was as though he couldn’t get away from you fast enough, like he couldn’t stand even being in the same room as you. your entire life, charles has only ever looked at you with adoring and devoted eyes and now he can’t even stand to look at you. 

“il ne vous déteste pas,” arthur says over the phone with a roll of his eyes as though you’re being ridiculous for even suggesting such things. he doesn’t hate you.

but arthur wasn’t there. arthur didn’t see how charles practically ran away from you. still, you say nothing to the matter, far too upset to even bother trying to defend yourself. 

“i’m going to go to sleep, art,” you say softly instead. “it’s pretty late here.” 

you and arthur say your goodnights before you shut off the call. but just as you’re about to place your phone down for the tonight, it lights up with a text message. your eyebrows knit together in confusion. who’d be texting you this late anyways?

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#formula 1 #f1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #formula 1 one shot #charles leclerc fluff #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 one shot #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc smau #smau #social media #formula 1 smau

[moonstruckme]

Doting

summary: you feel needy for wanting support after a hard day. Your boyfriends set you straight

poly!marauders x reader ♡ 1.4k words

You sit on the couch, surrounded by all the love you could ever want, and do your best not to sulk. 

In the kitchen, Remus hums as he makes dinner, and Sirius and James are playing cards on the coffee table in front of you while you pretend to read. 

“I’m out,” James declares proudly, laying the last of his cards on the table as Sirius throws his down with a huff. 

“I’m done playing with a cheater,” Sirius says with faux malice, turning around to look at you sweetly from where he sits at your feet. “Y/N, gorgeous, want to join me for a game?”

You paste a smile on your face. “Thanks Siri, but I’m busy.” You hold up your book as evidence, and he pouts but turns back around, reshuffling the cards.  

You notice James studying your features, and you do your best to look content, normal. After years of being around the other two boys and their silent misery, James has gotten very skilled at detecting a dismal mood, and you don’t want to ruin everyone’s night. In truth, you’d had an awful day. A customer had yelled at you at work, and then you’d been stupid enough to cry while driving, almost getting in an accident due to your distraction. You’d arrived home shaken and upset, and had barely had time to pull yourself together before Sirius had come in the door  a few minutes later, Remus and James following not long after. You don’t enjoy being so delicate that having any amount of anger directed at you reduces you to a sniveling mess, and you’d resisted the urge to lock yourself away in your room in the hopes that acting like everything was normal would eventually make you feel normal. 

So far, it isn’t working as well as you’d hoped. 

If anything, it feels odd to be the dark cloud of such a joyous space; with Sirius and James laughing and bickering in front of you, Remus humming just around the corner, and the delicious smell of whatever he’s making beginning to waft toward you from the kitchen, you feel unappreciative and embarrassed for being unhappy. Beyond that, you know you have the sweetest boyfriends in the world, and they’d drop everything if they knew you were upset. Frankly, you don’t deserve their kindness when you're wallowing in self-pity over something so silly. You’d only be dragging them into your sorrow with you, and there’s no sense in all of you being down there together. You can handle it on your own. 

But James’ too-perceptive gaze seems to find some fault in your placid facade, and though you will him desperately not to, he asks, “You alright, angel?”

You give him a different smile this time; it’s smaller, a bit more honest, but a smile nonetheless. “Yeah,” you say, in your most placating tone. “I’m good, thanks Jamie.” 

“You sure?”

“Mhm.” 

James’ eyes are slightly troubled, but he nods, directing his attention back to the cards. It’s too late, though, because now Sirius is turning back towards you, something in James’ tone or yours tipping him off. He sets down the deck, pulling himself up onto the couch to sit beside you, his eyes level with yours. 

“What’s going on?” he asks in that rare no-nonsense way that lets you know he’s serious. 

You hate when they tag-team you like this. James may be good at picking up on your moods, but he also knows when you want to be left alone. Sirius, on the other hand, prefers to root out any bad feelings and beat them into submission. 

“Nothing,” you say, no longer under any impression that either boy believes you. Still, you take Sirius’ hand, squeezing reassuringly. “It’s okay.” 

Sirius is undeterred, searching your face like it’ll come clean when you won’t. You can’t take the intensity of his stare and drop your gaze, but he only stoops to follow it. You’re trapped. 

“Hey,” he says softly, his thumb stroking your hand cajolingly. “What’s your deal, huh? Talk to us, baby.”  

It's the pet name that gets you, and the first tear leaks from your eye just as Remus comes in with dinner. 

He stops short at the new, sullen atmosphere of the living room, but rushes over once he sees your face. 

“What’s going on?” He sets the plates aside, seating himself on your other side.

“We don’t know,” James says, moving to sit on the coffee table, his knees brushing your legs where they’re curled up under you. “She hasn’t said.” 

“She’s right here,” you joke, but no one smiles. 

Remus takes the hand not currently claimed by Sirius. “What’s wrong, love?”

You press your lips together to keep them from wobbling, blinking rapidly in a futile attempt to reverse the course the evening is taking. 

“Honey.” His tone is admonishing, but still unbearably sweet, and you crumple, more tears falling as a gasping sob escapes you. Remus pulls you into him as though he can make you a shelter out of his own body, and you go willingly. “Was it a bad day? Is that it?”

You can only nod, not trusting yourself to speak. After a beat, Sirius asks, “Are we going to have to beat someone up?”

You laugh, and it’s awful and pitchy, but it loosens some of the pressure in your chest. James’ hand finds your shoulder, squeezing encouragingly before starting to rub slow, soothing circles into your upper back. 

“I’m sorry,” you choke out. 

“What the hell for?” Sirius asks, and you open your eyes in time to see Remus give him a harsh look. Sirius ignores him, reaching for you. His thumb is gentle as he wipes under your lashes. “You know you can tell us these things, don’t you?”

“I just—” You take a shuddering breath. “It was so embarrassing, and I didn’t want to ruin everyone’s night.” 

“Sweetheart,” James coos. “We don’t care. We’d so much rather know you’re upset and be able to help than have you suffer in silence all night. Besides, don’t you think you deserve the same treatment you give us?”

Shame washes over you, and you tuck yourself further into Remus’ side. “You guys never ask as much of me as I do of you.”  

James’ eyebrows jump nearly to his hairline and Sirius makes an incredulous sound, but it’s Remus who speaks. “Dove, are you serious? What about when I had a migraine last month, and you stayed home with me all day?” He maneuvers you in his arms until you’re facing him, looking you in the eye. “Or the last time James had a bad day, and you went on a run with him so he’d have company, even though you hate running? Or just last weekend, when Sirius got too wasted—” You can feel the glare Sirius is shooting him from behind you, but Remus continues—”and you stayed up with him all night holding his hair, and then in the morning you brought him gatorade and cleaned his sick out of the carpet?”

“Don’t act like you’re so needy,” Sirius says, and you turn towards his voice to find his stare just as piercing as you left it, “and we’re all perfectly self-sufficient. You’re not the only one who needs help sometimes, so if you have a bad day, we wanna hear about it.” He’s looking at you like your silliness astounds him, and James grasps your shoulder with a small smile, giving you a little shake as if to reprimand you. 

You look helplessly towards the plates Remus had brought in only a few minutes before, discarded on the edge of the coffee table. 

“Dinner’s gonna get cold,” you say mournfully. 

Remus shrugs. “I’ll microwave it. And if you wanna talk, we will, and if you don’t, you can pick us a movie to watch, yeah?”

You look at the three of them, gratitude and love both so huge and warm in your chest you can’t tell which is which. “Okay.”

“Good.” Sirius tugs you out of Remus’ arms and into his own, planting a kiss on the side of your head. “Merlin, you’re tough to get things out of. Think you could go a bit easier on yourself in the future?”

“Yeah,” James pipes up. “Be nicer to our girl, she’s had a rough day.” 

You hide your face in Sirius’ chest, flushing, but at least this time, your smile is real.

#poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #marauders x reader #the marauders #hp marauders #marauders era #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #wolfstar #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fanfic #marauders fic #marauders drabble #marauders oneshot #marauders fluff #marauders scenario #marauders imagine #sirius black #james potter

[slut4thebroken]

Home Improvements

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Emmett x wife!reader

Summary | Emmett does yard work while you’re outside tanning and you (both) get a little needy.

Warnings | Smut, semi public sex, humiliation, exhibitionism, a lil degradation, breeding, slight age gap, they’re so cute it kinda makes me sick lol.

Words | 1.8 k

Notes | I’ve been wanting to write some consensual Emmett stuff for a while so thank you to the anon who sent an ask to @kiss-me-cill-me who ended up tagging me🤭

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

More of these two

(Ignore the fact that idk how lawn mowers work lmaooo)

You were laying down on a lawn chair in your favorite bikini, sunglasses on and book in hand, but you weren’t reading anymore. You were completely focused on Emmett. The top two buttons of his shirt were left open and his already short sleeves were rolled up a little, showing even more of his muscles and tattoo in a way that made your mouth water. 

When you noticed he was standing still, you forced yourself to pay attention and realized he was looking at you. “What?” You called out. The engine of the lawn mower was still on, but it was quieter now that he wasn’t moving it. 

“I asked if it’s too loud.” Your heart fluttered a little— he’s always so considerate. 

“No it’s okay. Thank you for checking though.” You were out here first so of course he wanted to make sure he wasn’t disturbing your tanning/reading time. 

You continued watching him. Occasionally he’d stop and remove his hat to wipe the sweat from his forehead, but he was getting through it pretty quickly, much to your displeasure. 

“Hey, Emmett?” You yelled, hoping he heard you with how far he was. He paused, turning toward you, and when you waved him over, he obeyed instantly.

“Yeah?” 

“Aren't you kind of hot? It’s like 80 degrees out today.” You said casually, confusing him. 

“A little, I guess.” He shrugged. 

“Maybe you should take your shirt off. Feeling the breeze really helps.” You suggested, glancing down at your mostly nude body to show that you weren’t completely bullshitting that excuse. He chuckled quietly and shook his head a little, looking away from you with a small smile. 

“Sure, baby.” You knew that he knew exactly what you were doing, but you didn’t care. You got what you wanted and that’s all that matters. He started unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, then tossed it onto the second lawn chair. Since he already knew, you decided to close your book and put it on the small table in between both chairs. 

“You know, it also might help if you work a little slower too. Going fast means using more effort, and that means getting hotter quicker.” You knew it was grasping at straws and completely cheesy, but he scoffed a laugh and played along. 

“Good point. Any other suggestions?” 

“None that don’t involve public indecency.” You said teasingly and he chuckled again before walking back over to the lawn mower to continue. You could see now that his torso was glistening with a light sheen of sweat, only getting you more worked up. 

There was something so incredibly hot about watching your husband do completely mundane, domestic tasks like mowing the lawn and barbecuing. He also had a really bad habit of doing home self improvements… so at any given time, there was at least one part of the house that was unfinished. The plus side to his love of home diy’s was that he’d build you things for the house, like extra storage in a weird space where nothing could really fit, or a new table after you accidentally spilled paint all over it and couldn’t get it off. 

You frowned when he turned the lawn mower off and started walking over to you. “It looks amazing, honey.” You smiled, shamelessly eyeing his body as he sat down on the chair next to yours. You offered him your glass of ice water which he took eagerly, gulping down more than half of it in one go. “You know, I think you deserve a reward for doing such a good job.” Honestly, it was more a reward for you being able to sit here for half an hour without jumping his bones. 

“You hate when I’m all sweaty.” You could tell that he wanted whatever you were offering though. 

“Yeah… but that just gives us an excuse to have round two in the shower.” You smirked and his lips curled up into a small smile. 

“Come here.” He said as he laid back in the lawn chair, letting you climb onto his lap. His hands settled on your hips as you took off your glasses and his hat before finally kissing him. Your arms draped over his shoulders, letting you play with the hair at the nape of his neck. When he pulled back, you whined quietly. “I don’t think I can do yard work while you’re tanning anymore. I’ve been hard since I walked out here.” You choked out a laugh, then started grinding on his bulge, making his breath catch in his throat. 

“I agree. I’ve been wet since you started mowing.” You leaned down to kiss him again, still grinding your hips, and his hands dragged up your sides to cup your breasts, making you moan quietly. When he pulled your bikini down to rest below them, you let out a gasp that turned into a mewl when he leaned forward and sucked your nipple into his mouth. “Fuck- Emmett…” You said through a breath, tightening your grip on his hair. “People might see.” Even though you were in the backyard that had a wood fence all the way around the perimeter, there was still a chance. 

“Thought you said I deserve a reward.” He grumbled, moving to your other nipple to suck and nip at it teasingly. “And I want to fuck my wife on my own property. I don’t give a shit if someone sees.” You knew that wasn’t true. You’d have to stop him from commiting a felony if someone accidentally saw your body because of how jealous and possessive he could be. 

“I’m gonna be pissed if we get in trouble with the HOA.” A few years ago, you never would’ve imagined that you’d be married, living in a suburban house, worried about the HOA. Despite your words, you started snaking your hands down his chest and stomach to his belt. You managed to unbuckle it, even with how close your bodies were, then you opened his pants and took out his cock, stroking him to full hardness. 

“Fuck.” He hissed, kissing up your chest to your neck, then sucking the skin into his mouth to leave a mark. “Need you, doll.” He whispered, hips bucking up toward your hand, desperately seeking out your tight, warm cunt. Since you were just as desperate, you quickly pulled your bikini bottoms to the side and sunk down on his cock, making both of you moan. You sat down on him completely, then paused, needing to let yourself adjust. 

When his hands snaked around to your back and tugged on the string of your bikini, you gasped and tried to keep the fabric from moving away— at least with it below your breasts, you could quickly cover yourself if needed. Emmett didn’t seem to care about that though as he pulled it over your head then threw it somewhere to the side. 

“Fuck..” You said through a breath. The risk was making you infinitely needier and as you continued to get more turned on, you started to care less about someone possibly seeing. 

“Come on, baby. Give me my reward.” He gruffed. As if your body was completely under his command, you started rocking your hips, warming yourself up a little. You cried out when he suddenly slapped your ass. “You know what I want.” His voice was much harsher now, making it clear that this was a demand, not a request. So you started bouncing up and down on his lap, forcing moans out of both of you. “That’s it… Be a good little wife and use that greedy cunt to please my cock.” He groaned, slapping your ass again before moving his hands up to grope your tits. You were starting to sweat now as you panted, quickly heating up from the exertion. 

Getting bolder, he suddenly reached for the strings on both hips, then quickly pulled to untie them. “Emmett..” You warned— being completely nude was way too risky.  

“We can move this to the front yard if you’d prefer.” He threatened, making you falter. When you gave up on trying to stop him, he smirked and removed the fabric, leaving you fully bare. “What would people say, honey?” He murmured mockingly. “If they knew that you liked riding me in public, in broad daylight, without wearing any clothes.” 

“Emmett…” You whined, his words making you needier. 

“Oh, I know, baby… I know.” He cooed, brushing your hair behind your ear and cupping your cheek. “You can’t help being a whore, but it’s okay because you’re my whore. Isn’t that right?” 

“Yes.” You mewled, desperately moving your hips, chasing your release. 

“Say it.” His hands settled on your hips and he held you still, then started bucking up into you. 

“I’m your whore, Emmett.” You whined with a blush. He moved one hand to smack your ass as a warning, then immediately put it back on your hip. “I’m your whore!” You cried out, much louder this time. “Fuck— please make me come.” 

“Wait just a little longer, doll, I’m almost there.” He said breathily, tightening his grip on your hips almost painfully and bucking up into you so fast, you had to bite your lip to keep from screaming. Your breasts were moving embarrassingly with how hard he was pounding you, only furthering your humiliation… which only brought you closer to the edge. 

“Emmett.. please, I can’t hold it.” You whimpered, clinging to his shoulders, trying to ground yourself. 

“Go ahead, sweet girl…” He said through a breath. “Come for me.” You reached down to rub your clit and when your orgasm crashed over you, Emmett quickly lifted a hand to cover your mouth, muffling what would’ve been a mix of a scream and a moan. You stared down at him with furrowed brows as your body trembled with each wave of pleasure that rolled through you. 

He cursed under his breath when your orgasm made your cunt squeeze his cock almost too tight, sending him over the edge as well. You only had to endure the overstimulation for a few seconds while he continued bucking up into you, riding it out. His grunts and breathy moans were creating a new pool of arousal in your stomach, but he was done before he could get you worked up all over again. 

When he relaxed his grip, you accidentally sunk down all the way, making you both wince from the sensitivity. You were still panting and Emmett was in a similar state, but he snaked his hand around to the back of your neck and pulled you down into a kiss anyway. It was short, but still deep and passionate, leaving you even more breathless. 

“I’m going to look into building higher walls for the fence so you can start tanning naked.” His lips were curled up into a poorly concealed smirk. “Just so you don’t get tan lines, obviously...” He said coyly, making you laugh. 

I think I want to write more for them cause I really like their dynamic so send me some ideas <3

#emmett smut #emmett a quiet place #emmett x you #emmett x reader smut #emmett x reader #cillian murphy #Emmett x wife!reader

[euphorajeon]

'make it right' with jk for the 1k celebration pleeeaaaasssseeee 🫶

light of the morning

— request: jeongguk + make it right - bts

— pairing: jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff, angst

— word count: 2.7k

— warnings/tags: idol!jk, college student!oc, mild angst, they're best friends, insecurities and self-doubt thoughts.

— summary: in the eternal night that seems endless, jeongguk finds his peace in the light of the morning.

— author's note: hi anon! thanks for requesting :) summary is obviously inspired by the lyrics of make it right, which i used as the general inspiration for the story. i hope it doesn't stray too far from what you had in mind, hehe. enjoy!

a continuation of opposite of sun. i suggest to read that first before reading this!

masterlist

‘Jeongguk Takes Over Times Square With a Surprise Performance’

‘Massive Crowd Gathers In Times Square for a Jeongguk Surprise Performance’

‘Jeongguk Surprises Times Square Crowd With a Free Concert’

It’s been a day since Jeongguk’s surprise performance at Times Square, and the media headlines praising his performance just keep flooding in. In the articles, there were no flaws in his performance. Impeccable. Perfect. The media especially highlighted the way his fans only got a 30-minute notice before the performance, yet they were able to fill up the streets of Times Square. They were loud, singing along to his songs word for word, and Jeongguk is so proud.

The praises didn’t only come from online articles, they also came from the radio hosts and interviewers who were lined up in Jeongguk’s schedule today. It’s refreshing to answer questions outside of the usual ‘What’s your favorite food to eat in the US?’ and about his surprise performance instead. Jeongguk is grateful that his manager, Namjoon, scheduled these interviews after the performance instead of before it.

“Do I have any more interviews for today?” Jeongguk asks Namjoon, peeking at the clock on his phone. It’s only a little after seven in the evening. He knows it’s a silly question to ask, already knowing the answer by the look on Namjoon’s face.

“You have two more, actually,” Namjoon answers regardless. “Plus taping for two songs for one of them. I thought you knew this already?”

“Uh, yeah, just making sure.” Jeongguk clears his throat, eyes still on his phone.

“You’ve been checking your phone a lot today. Something wrong?” Namjoon inquires, a worried look replacing the duh one he had on his face earlier.

“No. Everything’s okay.”

Yes, something is very wrong.

It’s been more than a day since he video-called you, a little over a day since his performance at Times Square, and little less than a day since he texted you the YouTube link of said performance. In that time frame, his phone is completely void of any notification from you. No texts, no calls, even no tweets or an Instagram DM. You’ve been totally silent and it’s starting to get on his nerves. Why are you leaving him in the dark?

“You sure? You look like you want to punch someone.”

What he wants is praise from you! No, he doesn’t want it, he needs it. All the flowery words from the media and radio hosts mean nothing if he hasn’t heard one from you. Ever since he started his singing career, your opinion has always been one of the first ones he seeks. Without it, he’s lost. Left wondering whether his performance deserved the accolades, or they were only for his pretty face.

“Jeongguk, we’re here. Put a mask on and smile. You can worry about your best friend later,” Namjoon says the moment the car comes to a stop in the parking lot of a building somewhere in New York. Jeongguk looks at him as he’s getting off the vehicle, confused. His manager throws him a small smile. “Don’t look like that, it’s kinda obvious you’re thinking about her.”

“I haven’t heard from her since yesterday, hyung,” Jeongguk sighs. “I have the right to be worried.”

“You’re not the only one with stuff to do, you know? Maybe she’s busy too. I’m sure she’s fine,” Namjoon tries to reassure him. “Give her a call after this, to ease your mind.”

Namjoon is right. You’re probably busy juggling midterms and your part-time job back home. The chasm he felt yesterday opens back up, gaping to remind him that you two are worlds apart. Superstar Jeongguk who replies to texts in seven business days has no right demanding a reply from a regular college student after only one day.

Two more interviews. Two more songs to perform. Then he can hear your voice, see your face, and everything is going to be okay again.

Jeongguk finishes his schedule for the day a little after 1 AM. He tries to call you in the car, on the way back to his hotel. No answer. Tries again when he reaches his hotel room. Then tries again after he showered and changed into comfortable clothes to sleep in.

Ten missed calls.

Jeongguk goes to sleep with a dark cloud in his mind, completely restless.

In the morning, when the sun is already up—the way the moon is in Seoul, where you are—Jeongguk cracks his eyes open to stare at the ceiling in his room, his heart still heavy with worry. Also heavy is his head when he sits up on his huge hotel bed, likely due to his tossing and turning in his sleep all night. It doesn’t help that his lockscreen is still void of notifications labeled with your name. You’ve been MIA for almost two full days. Where are you?

He sends seven more bubbles in your chatroom, a sigh slipping past his lips when the tiny word under the blue bubble only reads delivered. He’s on his last thread of hope when he clicks on your contact picture to video call you, and that thread snaps when all he’s staring at on the screen is his own puffy and tired face.

Maybe he should order some breakfast. Get something to munch on, pry his mind away from the thought of you and what you’re up to in a country far, far away from where he is. He hopes you’re okay. He hopes you aced that midterm you were up until three to study for (although you spent the good part of the last hour talking to him on FaceTime). He hopes you’re eating well and not some instant cup ramyeon or shitty take-out from the Chinese place by your apartment that you frequent because it’s cheap.

After skimming through the room service menu, Jeongguk places an order of breakfast enough to feed five people. (What? He needs his energy. And a distraction.) The kind hotel staff who took his order informed him that his food will be ready in around 20 minutes. Good. Plenty of time to track his schedule for today and not think about you. (So much for a distraction.)

As it turns out, his itinerary for today is not packed with work schedule. Namjoon had only written ‘Explore’ along with a note to bring the camera noona who usually follows Jeongguk around to film all of his adventures as an idol. Said “adventure” is typically limited to dressing rooms of music shows, though. Oh, maybe Namjoon wants him to stroll around the city and make a vlog out of it, give his fans a little peek of what he does in his down time in New York.

In order to do that, he has to shower, get dressed, and maybe get his makeup done. He definitely needs to get his hair done, though, there’s no way he’s going out with this bird nest atop his head. Or maybe he could go natural, let his hair breathe for the day. Namjoon said it makes him look like a college boyfriend, and apparently, his fans love the look. Throw some hoodie and jeans on, and Jeongguk would be ready to go to class with you.

Ah, you again.

His mindless scrolling on Twitter in procrastination halts, the words on his phone not registering as his mind goes back to you. What would it feel like to go to class with you? To watch your focused face in class, trying to absorb knowledge from the professor? To be there next to you, answer your question whenever you struggle to grasp a concept? To be your college boy—

A knock on his door interrupts his thoughts.

Jeongguk stills, waits for the shout of room service! to follow, but it never comes. The clock on his phone tells him it’s only been 10 minutes since he ordered breakfast, so maybe it’s not room service after all. Maybe it’s a staff member, coming to tell him to get ready for the day.

As Jeongguk makes his way to the door, come some more knocks, this time more tentative than the one prior. Before he could reach the door, the person on the other side speaks.

“Jeongguk..?” It sounds muffled by the door, but the voice rings familiar in his ears. It’s the voice he last heard almost two days ago, via a video call connection between New York and Seoul. Could it be? No, it couldn’t … right?

Jeongguk’s eyes are right in front of the peephole just as the voice sounds again: “It’s me, Bun…”

There, in front of his hotel door, stands a girl 15 centimeters shorter than him, dressed in black jeans and her favorite sage green sweater, with a lump of black fabric hanging off her left arm. A faded black baseball cap sits on her head, so faded it looks almost navy. When she finally looks up to peek at the peephole, Jeongguk loses his breath.

It’s you. It’s really you.

Jeongguk is so stunned that he’s frozen in place, just staring at your confused expression that slowly morphs into one of anxiety.

“Did Namjoon give me the wrong room number..?” you mumble, fishing your phone out of your pocket.

Jeongguk has never yanked a door open that hard in his life.

You tear your eyes away from your phone, jumping in surprise at the sudden movement. His eyes lock with yours, and the shock on your face melts into a smile.

“Hi!”

You’re obviously exhausted, having just got off a 14-hour flight from Seoul, moving 13 timezones backward, seeing the sun when you’re supposed to see the moon. But the way you beam at him is full of glee, your eyes bright despite the obvious fatigue. Jeongguk is mesmerized.

Wordlessly, he reaches for your shoulders to pull you into a hug. They feel more prominent than the last time he hugged you, and he doesn’t know whether it’s from your haphazard eating schedule or just … time. He doesn’t remember when he last gave you a hug. Doesn’t remember the last time he saw you in the flesh like this.

“You just woke up, didn’t you?” you say from somewhere near his collarbone.

“Maybe,” Jeongguk mumbles. “Maybe not. I feel like I’m still dreaming.”

“Up in the clouds, are we?” you chuckle. “Well, if you’re done dreaming then maybe we could come in? Backpack’s starting to hurt my shoulders.”

It’s right at that second that Jeongguk just realizes the huge backpack hanging off your small frame. The poor bag is bursting at the seams, like it’s gonna comically explode if you even try to unzip it. Jeongguk closes his fingers around the small handle on top, testing the weight.

“Did you fit your whole life into this? Why is it so heavy?” he complains, immediately untangling your arms from his body so he can slide the backpack off you and onto him instead. “I feel like I’m about to do the 20 kilometers march in the military.”

“Hah! Try navigating JFK with that on your shoulders. It’s way harder than the military,” you huff, following Jeongguk into his hotel room.

He sets your backpack down on one of the couches, turning around to get answers to a thousand questions in his head, but pauses when he sees you’re still standing by the door. Your eyes are scanning the room slowly, stopping at Jeongguk to look at him with an unreadable expression on your face.

“What?” Jeongguk says.

“It’s huge,” you say. “The room, I mean. They usually are in your vlogs, but it’s different seeing it in person.”

This could turn into another conversation about their differences quickly, but Jeongguk is not in the mood to deal with distance today. For once, you’re an arms-length away from him. He doesn’t want to fuck this up and send you back to KST, 13 timezones away.

“Eh, I think your backpack is bigger.” He shrugs. Safe route, for now. “What do you have inside that bag, really?”

“My brick ass laptop, thank you,” you say sarcastically, finally going deeper into the room just to give your backpack a protective hug. “Still have a midterm to finish and submit here.”

“You still have midterms and you’re here in New York?” Jeongguk gapes. “Why?”

“Because you asked me to be here,” you state like it’s obvious. “Well, not like that, but you looked so sad on our last video call that I booked a flight here as soon as we hung up the call. Didn’t really realize the weight of it until I was watching your performance with Yeseo and I blurted out that I bought a ticket to New York and how maybe it was a stupid thing to do on a whim like that. She looked at me like I was stupid and said I should totally go. So. Here I am.”

If selective hearing is a sin, then Jeongguk would be guilty because he heard nothing beyond the part where you said you were watching his performance.

“You watched my performance?” He parrots his thoughts. “But you said you would have been asleep…”

“No sleep is worth my best friend’s sadness.” You throw him a small smile. “Actually, Yeseo set an alarm for it. And then I went to have the midterm with a terrible headache because I didn’t get enough sleep. But it’s worth it, the performance was amazing. You did great on that stage.”

“I did great…?”

At this point, Jeon Jeongguk should change his name to Parrot Jeongguk, because all he ever does is just repeat things he heard. First his thoughts, now you.

“Yes, of course you did great, Jeongguk. Wasn’t it obvious, the way your fans were screaming their lungs out for you?”

I only wanted to hear it from you, Jeongguk thinks. The media headlines and praises from the radio hosts and interviewers flash in his mind, all positive feedback for his performance, yet still planted a seed of doubt in his mind. It caused an ugly darkness to settle in his mind, one that worsened with every call you didn’t pick up.

“Why’d you ghost me, then?”

Way to ruin this moment, Jeon Jeongguk.

“I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry. Between catching up on sleep and rushing for the flight, I just didn’t have the time to look at my phone at all. Also, I was on the plane? It takes a long time to get here from Korea if you didn’t know.”

“So it’s not because my performance is bad?”

You get up from your position on the couch to grip him on the shoulders, your nails digging into the material of his t-shirt. You have to strain your neck to be able to look him in the eyes, but you hold his gaze firmly like the position doesn’t hurt you at all.

“Jeon Jeongguk, listen to me. Your performance was great, you looked handsome, your singing was on-point, your high note was awesome, your dancing was super cool, and the crowd was really loud. I don’t know what kind of validation you seek, but I personally think everything about your performance was perfect.”

Yours. I only want your validation.

Slowly, the darkness in his mind begins to disperse, replaced by this warm beam of light piercing through the clouds. It settles in his mind like a blanket, protecting him from any more bad thoughts. He thinks it’s because of you, bringing light wherever you go. Can that light be shared with him? Will he glow from the inside out if he connects his lips with yours? Why does he want to lock lips with you?

“Jeongguk, are you okay? You look like you’re floating in the clouds again.”

Yeah. No. I want to press my lips against yours. Can I?

Three knocks sound from the door. And then: room service!

Jeongguk clears his throat (and his mind along with it.)

“Do you want to explore New York with me after we have breakfast?”

Jeongguk might want more, and he might be ready to admit it. After all, the light to his darkness is here. If not now, then when?

“Sure, it’ll be a fun best friend adventure!”

…maybe some other time.

a/n: thank you for reading! i'm planning to have a part 3 of this but let's see if i can actually find the time to write it ahah

#bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #fanfic #fic #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts au #bts college au #jungkook college au #jungkook drabble #jungkook oneshot #jungkook au #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook angst