#I love coming across things I forgot I wrote

[awyeahitssam]

Time travel AU; Tomarry

Harry was seven the first time he appeared.

Tom arrived to him small and trembling, with bare blue fingers and toes. His teeth chattered noisily while hands worked insistently up and down his arms to generate some illusion of heat. It was a rather odd sight, considering it was thirty seven degrees outside and Harry was sweating a bit, himself. Not to mention the boy had just materialized in his supposedly secure hiding spot, without so much as a sound of warning or shimmer about the air. 

Or, you know, walking or running, because that’s how any other child got around.

Harry shook away the thought, pushing himself off the tree stump and letting shredded leaves fall from his grasp. 

The child was looking up, now, glancing around like a frightened rabbit, silver-grey eyes wide and wild. He couldn’t have been more than four years old, which wasn’t that much younger than Harry, but he wasn’t used to being around toddlers. In fact he had never been around anyone smaller than him for more than a few minutes - their parents always rushed them away, thanks to his reputation as the Dursleys' troubled nephew.  

Harry wouldn't let the boy freeze because his parents would be mad they'd spoken. Not that they would be angry at the boy, mind: it was Harry that always got into trouble for such things. He would be fine.

(And no, Harry wasn’t at all resentful. Really.)

Dilemma solved, Harry stepped forward resolutely and wrapped his arms around the trembling child. The boy stood stiff and unresponsive, tremors still wracking his form. Harry was a whole head taller than him; from this close he could see what appeared to be snow melting atop night-dark curls.

Harry blinked in surprise. He had thought the boy had been locked in a freezer, with how cold he was, but snow in July? 

Where was it cold this time of year? 

Sweden? 

Antarctica? 

Iceland? 

Did the boy even speak English? 

Harry knew that if you wished hard enough you could escape a place: after all, he had ended up across the schoolyard four days ago, on the school roof of all places! But maybe this boy had gone further? 

“All right?" Harry asked, going to pull away, but the boy suddenly began clinging to him, head pressing forward into his chest.

What did parents call their kids to comfort them? Aunt Petunia always said “Duddums,” or “Dudders,” but those were just nicknames. Maybe… 

“Uh, it’s okay, d-darling?”

The boy stilled again, sniffling once and looking up with narrowed eyes, as if he thought Harry was making fun of him. Maybe only adults called people that? Oh God, Harry had no idea what he was doing. This was his first hug, after all… 

“Everything’s going to be okay,” he tried again. “We’ll get you home, so you’ll be all right. With your, uh, parents and stuff. Don’t cry, please.”

Well, that was more begging than reassuring, probably, but Harry had no clue what he was doing here. He’d never had to comfort anyone a day in his life!

“I wasn’t crying!” The boy denied, shoving himself away from Harry fiercely even though he was still quivering and unnaturally pale. “And I don’t have any parents.”

“Oh. Okay,” Harry raised his hands defensively, ready to spring back if the boy lashed out again. When people got angry with him it rarely went well. “Um, I don’t either. Have parents, that is. And I didn’t mean to make you upset.” 

Harry wasn’t going to apologize for it. He had to do enough of that at the Dursley’s, and he had only been trying to help, besides. Still, he knew how frustrating it was when parents got brought up. The reminder that he was an orphan, trapped with the Dursley’s for a very long time to come, was far from comforting. 

“Just another orphan, then,” the boy said dismissively. Harry didn’t bother being offended, as it was the truth, though that tone was a bit... 

“I suppose,” Harry said. “You’re still cold, aren’t you? Let’s move out of the shade.” 

The boy squinted at him suspiciously, but nonetheless followed when Harry led the way to a nearby rock and gently pressed him to sit on it. He kneeled on the dead, brown grass and eyed blue fingers and bare toes worriedly.

“That’s not good,” he whispered. Harry reached out to the other boy slowly, as though he were a wild animal, and the child jerked away.

“What are you doing?”

“They’re blue,” Harry frowned. “Just - let me -” 

Harry took the boy's hands in his own and brought them to his mouth, breathing hot air onto them. The boy made a mildly disgusted sound and made to move back, but Harry held tight, rubbing to create heat through friction. 

He felt gross and sweaty, and frankly the cool of the boy’s hands was a relief on such a day, but mostly he was worried. He knew, vaguely, of hypothermia, and he didn't want the boy’s fingers to fall off.  

The boy glared at Harry, but didn't try to pull away again, though he watched his every movement rather suspiciously. That wasn't anything new to Harry, of course. Everybody found him suspicious. 

“Where am I?” The child demanded, after a long period of silence in which they were essentially holding hands. 

“We’re at a park in Little Whinging, Surrey.” 

“Surrey? I was just in London…”

Harry frowned back. “Are you sure? It's not snowing in London.”

“It was five minutes ago,” the boy said firmly, crossing his arms. 

“In July?” Harry murmured, incredulous. 

“I'm not lying,” the boy said coolly, though the effect of his glare was somewhat ruined by the shivers still wracking his body. “And it's February, besides.”

“I didn't say you were lying,” Harry huffed. “Just that you’re wrong. It's July 30th.”

The boy frowned, glancing from the sun high in the sky to the brown grass. He seemed at a loss, eyes flitting around as if trying to find something to refute Harry’s claim.

Harry watched him, considering. 

“My name is Harry,” he said. “What’s yours?”

The boy blinked at him. “Tom,” he said. “Tom Riddle.”

...

Harry was in the astronomy tower, legs dangling over the edge, eyes looking towards the ground. His companion arrived as suddenly as always, the only announcement of his presence the prickling at Harry’s neck.

“...Harry?” 

He turned with a tired smile, faltering only slightly when he noted what Tom was wearing. A slightly oversized version of the Hogwarts uniform hung over his small frame, a silver and green tie smoothed on his neck. 

“What’s wrong, love?” Harry asked, falling to his knees beside the bright-eyed boy. Tom wasn’t crying, but his eyes were burning with something like anger and loneliness and despair. It took Harry a moment, but when he caught sight of the bruise marring Tom’s face he felt his breath catch in his chest.

“You—who—how dare—!” Harry couldn’t seem to bring himself to coherence, so instead he shut his mouth and carefully tilted Tom’s chin to get a better look at the mark. It was large, spanning from his right cheekbone to eyebrow: a mottled, puce discoloration that never should have touched on Tom’s strong features. 

Tom allowed Harry to maneuver him without complaint, eyes wide and hungry as they took him in.

“Even at Hogwarts,” the younger boy murmured, smaller hand reaching out, brushing against Harry’s cheek. 

Harry couldn’t help the soft look that overcame him, despite the anger boiling, wrathful, in his gut at the sight of Tom’s injury. “I’m glad,” he said softly. “I’d rather not go ten months without seeing you, Tom.” 

Though truly it hadn’t been so long for Harry. After all, hadn’t he seen Lord Voldemort rise only a few months ago?

But no. This was Tom, his first friend, the first person he’d thought to protect, not a single trace of serpent in his visage.

This was Tom, with one of his eyes half swollen shut.

Harry didn’t know any healing charms, but he had taken to carrying around the salve Hermione made for his hand. He unscrewed the lid and gathered more than was probably necessary, the goop thick on his fingers. 

“Stay still for me, okay?” 

Tom tilted his head, not wary but measuring, and Harry held his gaze until the boy’s shoulders loosened and he nodded.

Once upon a time, Lord Voldemort had been capable of trust. Theoretically it was a hard thing to grasp, but in practice it just made something in Harry’s chest melt.

Harry massaged the salve in gently, careful not to get too close to Tom’s eye. He was nearly done by the time Tom gasped, jerking away.

It must have started tingling.

“That’s…” 

“Strange?” Harry smiled at him. “Yeah. Hold still, you’ll need a bit more to help with the swelling.” 

“Why do you have this?” Tom asked, even as he obediently shut his eyes and swayed forward. “Have you been getting into fights, Harry?” 

How strange, the way Tom said his name now, compared to the way he would one day, in a dark, dreary graveyard.

Harry laughed off the comparison, laughed so he didn’t retreat back to misery, and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Tom’s forehead. To the place that he would one day mark Harry.

“Always,” he smirked, pulling back to catch sight of Tom’s wide-eyed look. He screwed the lid back on the salve, wiping his fingers on his robe and slipping it back into his pocket. “Now, are you just going to sit there gaping all night, or would you like to learn how to defend yourself with magic?” 

Tom opened his mouth, probably in protest against that gaping remark, but closed it before saying anything and nodding his assent.

Harry drew his wand, a wand Tom had only seen a handful of times, and he couldn’t help the way his muscles tensed. Harry didn’t mention it.

“Protego,” he enunciated, making the motion with his wand a bit slower than he might otherwise.

“That’s a fifth year spell,” Tom pointed out.

“One that you’ll master,” Harry agreed cheerily. “Unless you want to be tickled to death.” 

It would have been more logical to use some sort of pain as motivation - such as a stinging hex - but Harry, Tom knew, did not want to hurt him. Still, he could deal with pain. Given his age, Harry was expected to be stronger than him, to be able to harm him. And to Tom, it would be far more humiliating to be reduced to helpless giggles.

Harry knew him too well, to play on his pride like this.

Tom found he didn’t mind

It took time, but Tom did manage to conjure the shield charm. 

Only when Harry flicked his wand the spell broke through, and Tom fell to the ground in peels of laughter. Harry held the enchantment for a long moment, watching grey eyes come alive with mirth, small body wriggling, before he waved his wand in a silent counter.

“Don’t rely on your shield alone,” Harry instructed. “You may be strong, but you’re still a first year, which means somebody else is stronger.” 

As if he needed the reminder, Tom mused bitterly, hand jerking a bit as he fought the urge to prod at his tingling bruise. Harry didn’t mention his short, derisive laugh. 

“What did you do when somebody tried to hit you at the orphanage? Dodged. It doesn’t matter that you have a wand, and spells; those aren’t the only tools available to you. You have a body - use it!”

In a way Tom appreciated the way Harry never sugarcoated anything. On the other hand, mere mention of the orphanage infuriated him. If not for the fact that Harry had been bullied himself, Tom might have held a grudge. As it was he knew Harry understood him, and what he went through. Knew that he was only mentioning that rotten place to draw a comparison and not degrade him. 

He didn’t get impatient when Tom’s second attempt failed, or his third and fourth, nor did he relent in his assault. He was strangely inspirational, Tom thought. He was encouraging, but had high expectations, and he seemed used to teaching. His patience went far further than Tom’s own extended, and he had no trouble explaining things a different way when his words didn’t click for Tom. 

But then, Tom almost instinctively knew what Harry meant. They were connected, in some odd, impossible way. 

Tom’s cheeks had burned in embarrassment when he discovered that there was no such thing as soulmates, even in the magical world. He had been so sure.

…

“You’ve gone pale.”

Tom looked down to his fading fingers with a scowl. 

“I want to spend more than a measly two hours with you,” he said, gripping the front of Harry’s robes as though it would prevent their time from coming to an end. 

“I know, darling,” Harry murmured, running a hand through his night-dark curls. “Just remember that I'm very proud of you, all right? I care for you, and that accounts for the decades we have to spend apart.”

“Harry, have I found you yet?” Tom whispers. The question hangs in the darkness, but before Harry can formulate a response Tom vanishes from his arms. 

…

“Hello darling,” Harry smiles, rather taken with the blush that lights Tom’s nose and the tips of his ears. “When are we?”

“31st of December, 1940.”

“Happy birthday, then. How does it feel to be fourteen?”

“No different than thirteen, I’d imagine,” Tom replies. 

“No?” Harry’s eyes glint wickedly. “Let’s see if we can’t brighten your day. Have you ever been ice skating, Tom?”

Tom blinked at him, eyebrows pulling together. “No,” he responds. “Have you?”

“Oh, absolutely not.” Something in Tom thrills at the reckless grin Harry levels him with. “We can try together, yeah? The Black Lake should be frozen over, and I know a few spells if not. The grounds should be abandoned at this time, especially considering it’s break.”

Tom stares incredulously for a moment longer, before shaking his head. “It’s past curfew, Harry. Even if it’s a holiday, I can’t be caught outside and still be chosen as a prefect next year.”

“Let’s not get caught, then,” Harry says softly, eyes sparking. 

Tom takes him in for a moment, and lets out a long sigh - mostly for show, mind you. Being cooped up in the Common Room, staring out at the Black Lake was hardly what Tom wished to be doing, regardless of the days. “Only you, Harry Potter, could talk me into doing such a thing. You’d better be practised with cushioning charms.”

A warm hand comes to grip Tom’s, pulling him towards the door. “We won’t need them,” Harry says, sounding rather assured. “You’re ridiculously graceful, so I expect you to catch me if I start to fall.” 

Harry, it turns out, is far better at keeping his balance on the slick surface. But the older boy takes both of his hands, slowly skidding backwards, balancing him so he won’t fall. And Tom is sure that when he does, he takes Harry with him.

…

Tom is standing on the balcony. Harry looks him over, absently checking for injuries. 

“You look posh,” he says, surprised. The last time he had seen Tom, he was still in second hand robes, though judging by his appearance it had been nearly a year - or an abrupt growth spurt. 

“Harry,” Tom breathes out, and all of the irritation in his posture and face smooth out as he turns and catches sight of him. Something like excitement brightens the air around him, and he reaches out, catching Harry’s sleeve and drawing him close. “You’re really here.”

“I am,” Harry smiles. “Have I kept you waiting?”

“Rather,” Tom sniffs. “It’s been nearly a year. You’ve chosen a rather poor venu, though; the Malfoy’s annual Yule Ball.”

“Oh,” Harry frowned. “I suppose you’ll need to get inside and schmooze with the purebloods.” 

“That is the point in me attending,” Tom agreed lightly. “But the ball is already halfway over, and I’ve met plenty of important people already. You could join me for a dance…” 

“Inside?” Harry asked, surprised. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Tom… if anybody but you sees me, I’m afraid of what’ll happen.”

“The music’s loud enough,” Tom offers. There’s something almost hesitant in his eyes, Harry notes. A very rare thing, for Tom is most always sure of himself. “We can dance here.” 

Harry smiles, drawing Tom’s hand into his own. “All right, but don’t be mad if I step on your toes. You’ve asked for it.”

Tom’s eyes glint. A smirk curls his lips. “Oh my,” he says, stepping close as one hand finds Harry’s waist and the other intertwines their fingers. “Have we found something I’m better at?” 

Harry snorted. “You’re better at loads,” he said, stumbling a step back when Tom begins their dance. “I’ve got nearly three years on you at the moment, and I’m positive your spell knowledge well exceeds mine.”

Tom quirks a brow. “Perhaps if you studied more?”

Harry smiled. “I started studying seriously in my Fourth year. You, however, have been at it from your First.”

“Shall we duel?”

“I’d rather we never cross wands,” Harry says lightly, but his eyes have gone dark. He grips Tom a bit tighter, posture straightening. Tom’s nearly a head shorter, like this. “This is hard to do backwards.”

“Then lead.”

Tom’s words had been half-teasing, but when Harry takes control of the dance things smooth out rather quickly. He’s clearly at least practiced in this part, and twirls Tom around the balcony without much trouble.

“There you are,” Tom says into his neck, “No more stepping on me.” 

Harry huffs a laugh, one hand rising from Tom’s waist to brush through his hair. The motion is soothing, half-remembered from the last time Tom had a fever. He leans deeper into Harry. He would join them together if he could; make them intrinsic, never able to be torn apart, not even by time. 

“I miss you,” Tom admits, like it’s a dark secret. “When you’re gone, I miss you, Harry. I’ve never missed anybody else.” 

Harry’s throat tightens. His hand continues its careful strokes, and they’ve stilled in their dancing. They sway in place.

“I wish we could be like this forever,” Harry says in turn, secret traded for secret. 

Tom makes a noise in his throat, something almost needy, and clings harder, nails digging into Harry’s robe. “Don’t leave,” he demands. “Stop leaving me.” 

Harry sighs. “I can’t,” he says. “You know I can’t, Tom.”

Tom pulls back, meeting his eyes. His face is flushed from the cold, eyes gleaming with a fierce longing. Something in Harry aches in answer.

“Let’s sit,” Harry says softly. “The sky is beautiful here.”

Tom nods, but hardly lets them pull apart. They sit, limbs tangling, but instead of staring at the stars Tom stares at Harry. Harry pretends not to notice.

An hour later, only the lingering warmth of Tom’s palm proves he was ever there at all.

…

The next time Tom appears it’s in Harry’s time. The situation is less than ideal; it’s a Hogsmeade weekend, and there's an attack.

But Tom does not know the context. All he knows when he appears is that Harry is flushed, breathing hard, back pressed against a building. And Tom does not freeze like Harry sometimes does at the abrupt displacement, but strides towards Harry with a familiar determination.

It’s the look Lord Voldemort gets when he’s decided to kill Harry.

But instead, Tom presses him tighter against the building. Searches his face. And then he pushes their mouths together, lips moving insistently against Harry’s own, almost desperate to provoke a reaction. 

Apparently deciding to kiss and kill Harry inspires the same look.

There’s a moment when Harry wants, but then he pulls away, the rejection gentled by the way he cradles Tom’s cheek. 

“Tom, I -”

Harry's eyes flick up from Tom’s, catching a movement,  and his hands drop as though burned. He’s quick to grab Tom by the hips and switch their positions, putting his body between Tom and Voldemort as he took in the tall, serpentine Lord. 

Voldemort’s smile was a cruel, mirthless thing. “Playing house with one of my horcruxes, Harry? How… unexpected.”

Harry swallowed. So Voldemort didn’t know, then -  he didn’t remember, though Harry had figured as much. 

“Tom, stay behind me and avoid his eyes.” 

“Harry, who—”

“Please, Tom!”

Tom stepped back, but he didn’t move quickly enough to avoid a bolt of purple light.

‘Bugger,’ Harry thought, body jerking in front of Tom instinctively, taking the hit. 

The spell has no evident effect beyond freezing him in place, and a strongly thought Finite Incantatum saw him free. Still, Harry did not shift; he would use any advantage he could get, and Voldemort thinking him helpless was certainly an advantage.

“What shall I do with you now, Harry?” Voldemort hissed, a demented smile pulling his lips up. 

“Avada Ked—“

“Expelliarmus!” Harry cried. Tom’s wand flew from his hand, smacking Harry’s palm. Well, so much for that plan. “Expelliarmus!”

“Crucio.”

The spells slammed together and the magic splintered, the wand's magic dying as it recognized it was being turned against itself. 

Voldemort’s eyes burned. “How do you have that wand?”

Harry watched him carefully, backing up until his hip pressed against Tom. He pressed the yew wand into warm hands, not daring to take his eyes off Voldemort to see his expression. 

Tom inhaled sharply, and he was too clever to not connect the dots. When he spoke his voice was torn between horror and fury. “There’s no way.”

“You need to go,” Harry hissed back. “Now.” 

“We haven’t exactly figured out how to control it—”

“Tom,” Harry snapped. The other teen quieted, and Harry heard fabric shift. “Repeat after me: lapsu temporis corrigi posse.”

“Harry—”

“Do you want to die?” 

There was a long pause. A hand pressed over Harry’s spine, almost too hard to be a comfort. 

“Lapsu temporis corrigi posse.”

The air shifted, and the warm pressure of spindly fingers against Harry’s back melted away. 

Harry and Voldemort stared each other down from across a field.

“It seems,” Voldemort hissed, “we have much to discuss, Harry.”

#time travel au #Tomarry #I love coming across things I forgot I wrote #and getting that spark of surprised joy #this was written many years ago. I hope it can bring someone a quick smile. #my writing

[m0e-ru]

(reading my own ao3) wow this bitch is so correct and on point i wish there was more . cmon guys look at this shit https://archiveofourown.org/series/2536405

#kommento #// blatantly promoing my writing . i miss my 2021 early 2022 era i wrote so good #// not to shit on myself but i kind of lost my charm on that latest one from december #// but like woww ughhhh i wish there was more <- the writer #// FIVE MINUTES LATE I LOVE YOUU yorue the fucking epitome of the ever i loveyou kissing you #// AND ANTIHISTAMES !! AND EXTRA TIP and youre lost i love all of you i lveo you all mwa mwma mwamwamwa #// kind of fell off and lost the writing style i liked on dont let it rain BUT STILL i wrote something so IM STILL WINNING !! #// when i finish my kitchen fic it's over for all of you (shes almost at 2k and shes still going) #// when i finally finish something so au specific so self indulgent IT'S ALL OVER !!!!! #// i forgot my love for serialization and seeing things come together and whole i just wonder if i'll still have the ambition after that lon #// (in the corner) wow i wish theres more content of adachi and th attendnatn being friends #// besides the /wildly gestures at whatever the hell goes on in the iznmi tags/ whatever the FUCK this is #// i have ao3 svior btw theres so much shit censored when i open up the tag after 27 years and i do Not want to know what's in there #// sometimes i wish i could start all over and feel That Rush again where everythings so good and fun and whimsy #// learning new things one after the other like it's SO EXCITING !!!! just without the horrors this time #// and that i have YOU GUYS !!! (youre standing across me from the convenience store counter while i flop at using the barcode scanner) #// i wouldnt even KNOW adachis place in fandom i'll just be like LOOK AT HINM !!! hes so fucking terrible these two should be besties #// OKAY enogh remensicneing i need to GO !! BACK TO ACTUAL WORK !!! i love you all i hope youre all healthy

[inkskinned]

"the curtains weren't blue on purpose. why should we care?"

my love! let me ask you this - did you eat breakfast today? this tiny moment in your life. just think about it. did you?

for some of you, the answer is yes and for some of you it is technically and for some of you it is does coffee count. some of you reached for cereal or gmo-free overnight oats or frozen waffles or 3-day-old pizza. sometimes we eat the same thing, every day, for weeks. i get tired of eggs randomly, only to go back to craving them desperately. i'm cuban; i take my coffee like my father showed me, very milky and sweet.

some of us ate in a hurry. some of us hate eating breakfast but if we don't we will get nauseous later. some of us took our meds first or took our meds after. some of us have a kitchen 5 feet wide and sometimes it's the biggest room in the house. some of us are confident there will be food in the pantry and some of us flinch and say well, the paycheck is coming. some of us turn on a podcast while we eat or we scroll our phones or write in our diaries.

some of us are choosing, specifically, not to eat breakfast. some of us are too busy. some of us are pretending we "just forgot," but we are ignoring the warning signs that everything feels too-heavy. some of us are so consumed with anxiety or grief that we can't eat. some of us can't stand up long enough to make our coffee. some of us have no table to sit down and eat.

i cannot tell you what an artist "meant" by their choices. but they did have to make a choice, conscious or otherwise, to give you information. to give you a little bit more light. each of these choices are little stars of data; connecting speckles for you to weave through, drawing a line.

you cannot use a mirror in a dark room. for some of us; we will not care that the curtains are blue, because that will just be a data point and not enough light to see by. for some of us, the blue curtains will be the same as our childhood bedroom. it will make us seasick. for some of us, blue will be the color of frostbite. it might look like a pixel up close; but from a distance, oh! the picture blooms.

i cannot tell you what will stick out for you. what will carry meaning. some of you will read the sentence "i didn't have breakfast today" and say "this means nothing." some of you will read that and say "oh, me neither." some of you will say "this means the character is probably a little grouchy." some of you will say "oh, i wonder if they're okay. why didn't they eat anything?" ... art is a mirror. i am holding hands with you, over space and time, and asking you to feel something with me.

i want you to read my work and find a blue pair of curtains. i want you to read my work and find things in it that i never imagined placing. i have no way of knowing what will resonate with you, that's true. and maybe i just was hungry while i wrote this, and thinking about the eggs in my fridge. but if you found meaning, that meaning is yours. it cannot be erased just because i didn't "intend" it. you created a different world by interpreting my work. it's collaborative! that's beautiful! that's stunning!

just! imagine looking at the night sky and saying - it's stupid to have a favorite constellation or a favorite star. they're just there.

because here's the thing - across centuries and cultures, we look up. we still find meaning in the stars. these beautiful, lovely scattered accidents. are you looking? they call. and we look back and say oh! of course we are!

#this got away from me #but like #u know #reading is a form of creation #and sometimes the choice that the author makes might SEEM random #but it's like. bro that's telling u something. #also hate the vibe where authors/artists mock their audience for finding meaning in something #nahhhh #if u make art u need to be okay with people finding their own reflection in it

[nereidprinc3ss]

come on home

in which the only person who can comfort you after your breakup with spencer reid, is spencer reid

inspired by the song "summer's end" by the artist currently known as phoebe bridgers

wc 2857

warnings: gn!reader (correct me if im wrong), minor mommy issues, angst, happy ending

a/n: thank you to the person who requested this:) u r an angel and I listened to this song the whole time i wrote (if you haven't heard, listen!!) i sincerely hope you enjoy, i like this one a lot<3

She hung up on you. 

Forty-seven minutes of being insulted and berated after you’d called her looking for comfort, and you put up with every single cruel word—just for your mother to hang up on you. And it’s exactly the kind of thing she’d do, so you shouldn’t be surprised. An ache, you’d expect—but it shouldn’t sting like this. You thought you knew better. 

Now you’re in a ball on your couch, clutching your phone to your chest and crying. There’s no point hiding it. Your roommate is out with her girlfriend for the evening—which is too bad because even though you feel like being alone, you’re sure that’s the wrong call. Your other friends are out having fun tonight, too. They’d even invited you, but you turned them down. Look where that had gotten you. Obviously, your mother is not the person you’re about to run to for comfort, either. 

You try to pretend, while you’re thinking of all these people who have ever cared for you, that Spencer Reid isn’t on your mind at all. You try to pretend like you don’t care that the person who loved you until you believed you actually deserved it is a contact going stale deep in the bowels of your text cache. With bleary eyes you scroll down, looking for your conversation where it gathers dust—the end of your relationship was a mutual decision, and you’re friendly, but you haven’t texted in a few weeks. Probably because every time the conversation starts to feel a little too easy, or the phone call lasts a little too long, that aching void in your chest gets worse and worse. Like pain in a phantom limb, you become acutely aware of what you do not have and how much it hurts.  

So blame it on the tears, or the mind-muddling melodrama of your relationship with your mother, blame it on anything but the truth—when your thumb drops on that call button like the plunger on a syringe, you don’t regret it.  

What you’re not expecting is for him to answer after the first ring. 

“Hi,” you say with a snuffle before Spencer can get a word in. There’s a brief interlude, in which you pick at your nails, comfortable to just sit in silence if that’s what he wants. As long as he’s there. 

“Hi.” Hearing his voice instantly melts a bit of the weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. Another pause, for which you remain silent, because you can feel him formulating a question—and you’d like to hear him speak again. “...am I allowed to ask if you’re okay?” 

Your lips purse and twist to the side, pained and comforted by how easily he can tell that you’re distraught. One word across a tinny connection, and he knows. 

“No. Yes. I mean... I guess that’s why I called you. But you don’t have to ask me about it.” You sniff again and take a deep breath. “How was your day? What state are you in?” 

“I’m in the district,” he answers after a moment, easing into a casualness that he likely doesn’t feel for your sake. Wind crunches through the speaker. He probably just got out of work. “My day was... it was good. I got to talk about my job to a bunch of elementary schoolers, which is always a confidence boost.” 

You chuckle, still laying on your side on the couch and watching storm clouds gathering outside. 

“Nice, nice. What else?” 

“Let’s see... I forgot lunch, so I had three oranges, and they were actually pretty good. I reread Game of Thrones—I don’t know why I did that. I’m never going to like that book.” 

“Masochist,” you smile. He laughs, and you hear the sound of a car door opening. 

“Oh! I talked to my mom. Believe it or not, she says hi.” 

A completely inadvertent snort constitutes your response. It’s not what you meant to do, and out of context it’s sort of mean, but you actually think it’s incredibly endearing that he still talks to his mother about you. He scrambles to explain himself. 

“I swear, we barely talked about you this time. Mostly we talked about her new boyfriend Leonard.” 

“No, no, that’s not... I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you or your mom. That’s really sweet, actually. Tell her I say hi too.” 

When he next speaks, you can hear the smile in his voice. 

“I will.” Another long pause. You imagine him sitting in the parking lot at Quantico, keys vertical in the ignition of his old car and feeling the silence just as much as you are. He surprises you by not ending the conversation—instead he asks a question. It is concern, poorly disguised with nervous humor. Or maybe you just know him too well. “Do I get to find out what’s on your mind, or are you leaving me in suspense here?”  

You bite the inside of your cheek. 

“Um... well, actually, I just got off the phone with my mom, too. It didn’t go so well,” you laugh halfheartedly, “I know it was dumb to try and have an actual conversation with her, but... you know me. Always following blind optimism to the depths of hell.” 

“Why’d you call your mom?” he asks, so gently it brings a fresh round of tears to your eyes. Still, you attempt to put a cheerful affect on your strained voice. 

“Mm, you know. Just needed someone to talk to.” 

Spencer’s knowing sigh does little to make you feel better. 

“You know you can always talk to me, right? I know it’s... it’s different now, but... I care about you a lot. And, you know, I receive very few phone calls, so the line is pretty much always open.” 

Your laugh quickly devolves into a cry. 

“I appreciate that, but I can’t talk to you about everything.” 

“Why not?” he pleads immediately, voice thin and desperate like it’s his most burning question. A million lies dance over the tip of your tongue. A million things that feel safer to say than the truth. But in the end, it comes out anyway—choked, and so quiet, but aloud nonetheless. 

“Because I’m trying really hard to stop missing you so much.” 

Another long beat of silence. The back of your throat feels dry and hollow—a cage for your hummingbird heart. 

“If it hurts too much to talk to me, you don’t need to do that to yourself. But I also don’t want you to hurt yourself thinking you’re alone. You are... so important to me. I will always try to take care of you the best I can—whether that means staying away or being at your front door. If you ever need me, or even... vaguely want me, I will be there.” 

Each word caves your resolve. Each syllable is a slap in the face to progress you’d been pretending to make. You can be strong—you've proven that over the past ten weeks. You can be stone-faced and slash at your heart until the scar tissue is thick and jagged, and eventually it won’t hurt anymore. But maybe, by letting someone tend to the wounds, they’ll heal a little nicer. A little kinder. Even if you can’t undo the damage, maybe one day you’ll be soft again. 

“What if I vaguely want you right now?” you sniffle. 

Finally, you hear the silver jingle of keys turning. The sputter and rumble of an old engine coming to life. 

“Then I’m on my way.” 

Twenty four minutes later, there’s a soft knock at your door.  

After the call had ended, you’d wondered if you made it all up. Surely your ex-boyfriend wasn’t actually about to show up at your apartment. Someone you’ve grieved for can’t just come back—there are countless horror novels and movies based upon that very tenet. Does it matter if they ever actually died? How long is ten weeks, really? It feels like a lifetime. 

You shuffle across the room, wiping under your eyes with your already damp sleeves, and undoing all the locks Spencer had conditioned you to start using. When the door cracks open, and you see Spencer standing there, windswept and concerned, for the first time in months, it hits you like a tidal wave. You are, beyond a shadow of a doubt, still just as in love with him as you ever were. The relief that floods your veins as he looks down at you with so much care in his eyes is like sinking into warm water. It’s a dead giveaway, and maybe it makes this whole thing a terrible idea, but you can’t seem to care very much. You open the door wider, and he enters, and he stands in your kitchen with his hands in his coat pocket as you shut the door and he’s perfect. It dawns on you that for the first time since the breakup, you feel safe. Like you don’t have to be a stone pillar anymore. This, of course, translates into even more tears, which you try to hide as you face away, re-locking the door.  

“Sweetheart...” he sighs, because you can’t hide anything from him. Hearing the resonance of his voice so close to you once more is overwhelming. In an instant you’re rushing into his arms, and he accepts you without hesitation. You bury your teary face in the vetiver safety of his button-up and slip your arms under his coat, as if you could absorb his warmth and forever hide from the world that way. He pulls you even closer. It’s terrible and cruel how much he is exactly what you needed. “What’s wrong? What did she say?” 

You shake your head and gasp a small sob. 

Truthfully, you’re not really crying about the petty insults from your mother anymore. You’re back to square one, the reason you’d called your mother to begin with—you miss the man whose arms are currently wound around your shoulders. 

His hand smooths over the back of your hair. 

“Okay. That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.” 

You stay like that—content even as you cry because being with him feels so much safer than being alone. It feels right—or perhaps it’s just familiar. You don’t know which is worse.  

Spencer is rubbing soothing lines up and down your back as you cling to him, soaking him up in all his ephemeral, comforting glory. He surprises you by chuckling—it vibrates through his chest, buzzing against your ear. 

“Nice Magritte print. I bet the person who bought that has fantastic taste.” 

“Are you gonna ask for it back?” you mumble into the fabric of his suit jacket. He is, of course, referring to the painting you’d more or less stolen from his apartment seven months ago. You really don’t want him to take it home. It’s the most overt Spencer memorabilia you’d allowed yourself to keep in plain sight. 

“No, baby. You can keep it.” The words are low, and kind, and they settle you some, but you can’t seem to get him close enough. “What can I do?” he whispers after a moment, helpless as you take a shuddering breath. “Can I make you tea? Have you eaten?” 

“Will you just... stay for a little bit? I’ll—I promise I’ll stop crying.” 

There is an unexpected lull where you thought you’d receive pretty immediate agreement, but before you can pull back and ask what’s wrong, he murmurs, “yeah. I can stay for a while. But you have to kick me out before it gets too late.” 

You wonder if you’re imagining the double-entendre that seems to underline his words in bold red ink. Spencer is too smart to have not noticed a thing like that. You don’t mention it—it all boils down to the same unspoken idea. 

Don’t let me stay, because I might not leave. 

“I will,” you sniff, finally stepping back and wiping your own tears. It hurts to lose his touch, but at least you know he’s not going anywhere for the next few hours. This, as opposed to everything else lately, can be a beginning instead of an end.  

At least, until he goes home. 

Three and a half hours later, after tea, an impromptu dinner comprised mostly of cheese and crackers, and several vinyl changes on your record player (which served only as background noise for your long, ambling conversations), things are seeming to wind down to a natural stopping point. Which you hate. The whole time you’d had a dull ache in your chest because talking to him was easier than breathing and you knew it wouldn’t last. There had been one or two false bottoms already—the first when you’d yawned around nine, and the second when you’d gotten up to do your skincare and brush your teeth half an hour later. Even then he’d just leaned against the doorframe, watching your reflection above the sink as you talked for fifteen more minutes. Now you stand across from each other in the kitchen, plates restacked and everything in order. Of course he’d insisted on helping you clean up. 

“I should go,” he says, with a soft sort of finality in his voice.  

“Is your carriage turning into a pumpkin?” you tease gently, to hide how much you don’t want him to leave. He smiles—a small, weary thing—but genuinely and endlessly charmed by you. 

“That among other things.” 

“Would you—would you walk me to my room first?” 

The hesitance is clear in his eyes and the way his lips part as if to say, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea’, but you're sure he’s really going to leave in a moment and you’re also sure he won’t deny you this one small thing before he does. 

“Okay.” 

It’s a short, silent walk through the living room and down the hall to your bedroom door, but you can feel him trailing behind you the whole way. You stop in front of your open door, turning face to face with him.  

“Thanks,” you murmur.  

His lips pull into a melancholy smile. 

“Anytime.” 

There’s nothing left to do but wrap your arms around each other once more, tuck yourself into the you-sized space between his head and shoulder and hold on for as long as he’ll let you. The hug lingers for longer than is wise. Spencer adjusts his arms looped around your waist, pulling you closer, and you nuzzle against his neck, grateful that at least he seems as reluctant to let this end as you are.  

But eventually, it relaxes. Your hold on each other loosens. His face is just inches from yours, and you get to study every plane and valley and line like you’d thought you never would again. It seems he’s doing the same—losing himself in the luxury of seeing you up close. 

“Will you kiss me goodnight?” you whisper, unable to muster any self-consciousness though you know it’s a fool’s errand. Spencer strokes your waist. 

“I can’t do that, honey.” 

“Why not?” 

His voice is just as quiet as yours. It falters slightly as he speaks, so gently, so patiently. 

“Because we’re not together anymore.” 

“Why not?” 

Your feeble, desperate supplication sounds pitiable even to you. You’re not proud, but you can’t find it in yourself to be ashamed, either. All you want is an answer. But it’s like a child asking why the sky is blue, or the earth is round. There is a definitive explanation, but mostly, the adult will shrug, and say, that’s just how it is. 

Spencer’s eyes squeeze shut. His head tilts down. 

“We can’t do this again, sweetheart. You know why we’re not together.” 

In theory—yes. You’d had so many conversations when you’d broken up. It had been a long, painful process, spanning multiple all-nighters at his kitchen table, nursing coffee and trying to convince each other and yourselves that it was the right choice. But it just feels like a horrible, horrible mistake. You feel desperate to explain this to him before he slips away again—the words come out flustered, inelegant as you cling to him.

“But I don’t think I’m getting better without you. I tried, I tried so hard to be good on my own, but everything is worse and harder and—and we weren’t sure about it then, and I don’t think it was the right choice, because I still really need you. Like, all the time. I’m—it’s not getting better without you. Nothing got better.” 

He swallows, eyes darting between yours for an infinite second. You’re breathless and your heart is pounding after your confession—you can feel your eyes stinging with the few tears that managed to escape as you spoke. 

“Everything is worse,” he agrees shakily. “Everything. I’m—I’m getting disciplinary infractions from Hotch like I’m a child because I can’t focus on anything. Game of Thrones is the most complex literature I can comprehend right now. I had to use a calculator the other day.” 

You want to laugh, but nothing is funny until he’s yours again. 

“Then come back. Please come back, Spencer.” 

Finally, he leans closer, until your heads are pressed together, and his nose bumps yours, feather light. You're dizzy. You exhale. He inhales. 

“I don’t think I knew how to leave in the first place.” 

When he kisses you, it feels like home. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds

[boyfiejay]

Polaroid Love

OR What kind of polaroids would Enhypen keep in their wallet / phonecase

PAIRING : OT7 x female Reader

GENRE : fluff, lovesick enha boys

Warning : none really, lmk if i missed smt

Author's Note : Happy Valentines to people who have a valentine and people who don't, wrote this in 30 mins because i forgot it was valentines 🤩 single people things ig

Heeseung

Keeps a strip of photo booth pics in his wallet

●It was like you guy's nth date and you randomly spotted a photo booth

●And obviously you had to take pictures for you both

●Heeseung had happily obliged (he was just letting you drag him around the whole time)

●The space in the booth is so small so consequently you sat on his lap with his arms around you

●Man was over the moon, not only does he get to keep cliché couple photos, he also has you on his lap

●You both take photos with various different poses

●For the last one, Heeseung softly grabs you chin and turn you head. His lips already on yours before you could realise, he pulls away after a couple seconds.

●Resultantly you got the softest photo of you two ever. His mood instantly lightens up whenever he sees it.

Jay

A polaroid of you holding his guitar

●Man loves his guitar so much it makes you question if he even likes you

●But surprisingly he never ever said no to you anytime you wanted to hold his baby (he would never say no to you)

●And whenever you practiced on his guitar, he just felt so giddy inside

●The way you were so gentle and careful with it was too much of a happy sight for him

●So he makes the logical choice to capture this moment

●The polaroid remains in his phonecase and he never feels embarrassed or shy to show you off

●Infact he talks too much about you, so much that his friends beg him to shut up

●But anyways he loves that polaroid with his life.

Jake

A picture of you with Layla

●He has his priorities straight, only cares for his two girls (forgets his mom AGAIN)

●But he sulks so much when he realises that layla loves you far more

●But then again you two look too cute together so he can't even get mad about it

●So you were just playing around with layla, and then suddenly you hear the shutter of the camera

●The picture is kind of blurry, but ita the best he could get with how enegetic Layla is.

●Shows the picture to anyone and everyone, like dude no one talked about your dog or your girlfriend, why are you pulling their photos out

●But he's just so energetic and happy no one even says anything to him, Sunghoon probably has that photo revised so much he could draw it blindfolded...

●Makes the photo into a polaroid and keeps it in his wallet, so now its easier to take it out.

Sunghoon

You both laying down in the ice rink

●Ice skating dates with him are honestly not boring despite you being their for the 10th time

●He finds something to entertain you with every single time and its just amusing

●It had been around an hour of sunghoon chasing you around and you were very tired

●So instead of going to the sitting areas, you decided to lay down in the middle of the rink, just trying to stabilise your breathing

●Sunghoon, also somewhat tired layed down beside you, it was quiet for a while until sunghoon took out his phone

●He took a couple picture of you with your eyes closed, which would later be used for blackmail, because you looked dead in those pictures

●When you finally opened your eyes to see what he was upto, you saw him make a funny face through the screen and laughed

●Gotta admit he has some very good timing because the picture turned out of be very cute and later became a polaroid.

Sunoo

Heart on the cheeks trend but a polaroid

●You two were just scrolling on tiktok and finding random beef that keeps happening there

●And you come across a tiktok where friends / couples draw hearts on their cheeks with lipstick

●Excitedly you showed the tiktok to sunoo who immediately ran to your bedroom to get your favourite shade of red lipstick

●Although you were the one who found that trend, sunoo seemed too excited to try it out

●You both drew the hearts and clicked some pictures, even taking ones with your polaroid camera

●And after everything was done and you were washing your faces, sunoo randomly told you that he had been waiting for you to see that trend

●Because he knows you would be happy that you found the tiktok before him :((

●And although telling that to you defeats the whole purpose, you still were very touched by this

●That polaroid is never leaving his wallet istg

Jungwon

You with flowers in your hair

●You both were just walking around with maeumi, you walked so much your feet were starting to ache

●So you both sat down on a park bench with maeumi playing around you two

●It was very peaceful until jungwon plucked flowers from the small bush near you two

●He just randomly started putting different flowers in your hair and you were far too tired to ask him why

●After he was satisfied with his masterpiece, he quickly pulled out his phome and started taking pictures of you from different angles

●One of the hundreds of photos he took was absolute perfection, you smiling at the camera as the sun hits your face just right

●As much of a simp he is, no one can deny that he really did took a phenomenal photo

●It was his lockscreen wallpaper for half a year, then turned into a polaroid that will stay in his wallet for eternity

Ni-ki

A candid of you in his clothes

●I'm obsessed to the agenda that riki loves seeing you in his clothes

●And it was just another on of those times, you two had came running through the heavy rain so you wore his clothes till yours dry off

●Now this guy was red in the face when you just walked in the room

●No matter how many times he's seen you like this, it still makes him flustered

●You were busy with something and he just snaps a couple pictures of you, adding them to his collection of your photos

●Now you had no clue of those pictures for a good couple weeks, until he came to you giggling and all

●Why? Because he turned those photos to polaroids and although you were going to tease him about it, he was just so happy :((

●He's such a cutie patootie around you...

#enhypen #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enha fluff #enha fanfic #enha x reader #enha imagines #heeseung x reader #enhypen jay x reader #sim jake x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunoo x reader #jungwon x reader #enhypen niki x reader #enha heeseung #enha jay #enha jake #enha sunghoon #enha sunoo #enha jungwon #enha niki #enha jongseong #enha jaeyun #enhypen heeseung #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen jay #enhypen sunoo

[cheolhub]

PRETTY WHEN YOU CRY — JOSHUA HONG ࿐

summary. joshua just loves how pretty you look when you’re in tears.

wc. 1.9k

warnings. soft dom!joshua who’s kinda mean?, sub f!reader, dacryphilia, LOTS of teasing, edging, unprotected s*x, reader is referred to as a pillow princess, praise, ridiculous amount of pet names [(pretty) baby, pretty girl, angel, good girl], heavy dom/sub dynamics 🫡 — MINORS DNI 18+

note. i wrote this 3 months ago while in HEAT listening to LDR and then i forgot about it lol. THIS IS FOR THE SHUA BIASES. UR TIME HAS COME.

hunger. desire. need. it’s all you’ve felt since waking up this morning. you need your boyfriend to come home. you need to be stuffed with his cock. you need to be fucked till you can’t remeber your last name. 

and you’ve voiced your thirst to your beloved boyfriend, sending him texts that read need u :( and wanna touch myself so bad :’((( to which he replied, be good.

and you know better. when joshua says that, it means that you’ll need to wait regardless of how unbearably horny you are. 

and you do wait. you try to distract yourself on your day off by attempting to clean even though your arousal soaks through your panties and threatens to drip down your leg at the utter thought of him. you try to cook something to eat, but your mind wanders to the time he fucked you over the kitchen island with your face pressed against the cool marble. you even go as far as taking a cold shower, but you can only think about him and his cock and his words and, god, this fucking sucks.

but, he does come home eventually. as soon as you hear the door unlock, you’re quickly padding over to the front entrance with a meek look on your face. he can immediately read you, drinking in the sight of you in one of his shirts that barely hides the fact that you’re only in a thin pair of lace panties. 

he can tell you’ve been sitting in your wetness all day with the way your thighs are squeezed together and your brows are furrowed in what almost looks like pain. 

“hi, baby,” he hums, a cheeky smile stretching across his face. “how was your day?” he asks knowingly as he approaches you, free hand coming to cup your cheek. the pad of his thumb brushes against the heated, flushed skin and you’re shuddering at the contact. 

“missed you,” you mumble, eyes shutting as you lean into his touch. at the mere contact, your breath hitches, growing uneven as the seconds pass. 

“mmm, you missed me?” he hums, thumb moving to brush over your plush lips. when you nod, your mouth opens to envelope his digit, doe eyes staring into his devilish ones. “that bad, huh?”

“yeah,” you reply honestly, though it’s muffled by his finger. “please…” you beg and joshua knows exactly what for with the way your eyes water. 

luckily, you don’t have to wait long. joshua immediately drags you to your bedroom with a deceiving smile on his face. that’s how you end up on your back with his length stirring you up and pleas slipping past your loose, puffy lips. 

“you feel so good, baby,” joshua coos, cock thrusting into you at possibly the slowest speed ever. “cunt always takes me so fucking well, like you were made for me yeah?”

you nod your head, wrapping your arms around his neck, “joshie, please…” your eyelids grow heavy and threaten to close, but joshua can’t have that. 

“uh-uh, eyes on me, pretty girl, or i’ll just use my hand.” he warns and the pretty whine that slips past your lips makes him smile at you. “tell me what you need.”

“faster… please, fuck me faster, shua,” you beg. “been needin’ it all day.”

“yeah?” he questions, voice dripping with dominance. so much so, it makes you clench tighter around him. “pretty baby wants me to go faster?”

all you can do is nod. he gives you another captivating smile before picking up the pace. his hands grab at your waist as he builds up to a comfortable, yet pleasurable speed.

your moans grow louder as he fucks you deeper and deeper into the mattress. you’re relishing in the fact that you may get the one thing you’ve actually been craving all day–release. you can’t help the way your eyes flutter close as you feel the bulbous head of his cock rubbing against your sweet spot. 

joshua halts, dick pressed deep inside of you and your eyes shoot open immediately. “w-why’d you stop?” you whimper, pussy pulsing around him. 

he smirks, a mean lie slipping out, “got tired.”

you’ve just about had it– after a whole day of sexual frustration and waiting for your lover to take care of you, you get edged? your eyes fill with tears and you’re incessantly shaking your head. “i-i-i’ll ride you! please… shua, please– i wanna cum,” you nearly sob. “i’ll do all the work! le-lemme ride you.”

he groans, cock twitching at how quick he reduced you to tears today. you’re so fucking pretty like this– he can’t resist how much harder he gets when he sees tears recede down your face and hears how desprate you start to sound with all of your sobs and hiccups and slurred words. you’re just so pretty when you cry. 

his voice is breathy now, asking, “really, baby? you’ll ride me?”

“y-es! yes!” you cry, big, teary doe eyes screaming please. 

and so he hums out an ‘ok’ before effortlessly flipping you over while keeping you nice and full of his cock.

now your hands are pressed flat against his abdomen and he can’t help but bite his lip at the sight of you on top of him like this. you’re still crying and he’s sure you won’t stop till you get your much needed orgasm. 

you’re not moving, just hiccuping and squeezing your walls tight around him. “baby? you wanna cum don’t you?” he asks with the slightest mocking tone in his voice. “you have to move if you really want to.”

you shudder, nodding your head. you finally push yourself off his before roughly slamming back down to his base making both of you moan out loudly. you continually do this with no steady tempo and feel yourself grow frustrated at the lack of pleasure. 

joshua knew this would happen. you’re a pillow princess through and through and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. he loves seeing every coherent thought leaving your pretty little head as he drives his cock into you. you’re his princess, he wouldn’t want that to change.

but you make attempts to take more than you can handle sometimes, and he thinks it’s really fucking adorable. like now, for example, he knew you couldn’t ride him– you’ve only done it a handful of times and every single time it’s ended with you on your back again while he does all the work– but he thinks it’s cute watching you cry and struggle. 

though, he thinks he should put you out of your misery because he can tell you’re giving up. he knows you’ve absolutely had it when you're not even picking up your hips anymore, instead, rutting and grinding against his cock while tired whines bubble up in the back of your throat. 

“are you tired, pretty girl?” he asks softly and you nod while more tears brim in your eyes. you feel like you’ve been at it for hours even though it hasn’t even been 10 minutes. you just want to cum. so bad. “‘m sorry, baby, do you want me to take over?”

“please, joshie,” you whimper. “please, please, please, need you s’bad.”

and he coos, whispering out, “‘s okay, angel, don’t cry. i’ll take good care of you.” his hands find your waist, lifting you off his length so he can take over, giving you an experimental thrust. 

you whimper letting your head fall back and hands press against his firm chest as he repeats. he quickly gains a fixed rhythm, cock plunging in and out of your soaked pussy. his hands hold your hips tight above his, adamant on keeping you there while he does all the work. 

he’s moaning out your name, repeatedly telling you how good you feel and how gorgeous you are with your tits bouncing like that. he looks between the two of you, where his cock meets your cunt, and he groans watching how you swallow him so nicely. 

it makes him speed up, bucking his hips up harder. faster. deeper. you can’t stop crying no matter how much you want to– you’re so sensitive and he’s hitting all the right spots without fail– the tears just keep falling down your face. 

and shua notices. notices the way your eyes have turned into a leaky faucet and how you have a never-ending flow of tears rolling down your wet, blushy cheeks. god, it has him close already, but he needs to give you what you want first. 

“so fucking pretty when you’re crying for my cock, baby.” he grits, a moan following the words. “like it that much?”

you’re choking on your words, practically gargling out, “love it! l-love your cock– shua, fuck, love it and you!”

he groans, squeezing your hips tighter, “yeah? tell me you love me again.”

“i-i love you!” you sob out, pussy wrapping tightly around him as you feel yourself grow closer to the edge. “love you, shua!”

your nails dig into his chest and he hisses, “fuck, such a good girl– i love you so much more, baby. you’re so good for me.” he profuses, voice slightly wavering as he feels his stomach tighten. “will you cum with me, baby? cum and let me fill you up?” he punctuates his words with his thrusts.

you gasp at his particularly sharp thrusts, nodding your head vigorously. “yes, yes, yes, fill me up please!” you echo and you’re pretty sure you sound embarrassing, but you’re not in the right mind to care. you feel the band in your tummy stretching and all you need is a bit more to completely push you over the edge. 

joshua follows through, ramming into you a few more times before slamming your hips down, filling you up with his cock completely. his particularly large load spurts inside of you, painting your walls creamy white while cursing and moaning. the warmth and feeling of his seed is just what you needed to let go. 

the tight band in the pit of your stomach snaps and you squeal as you feel yourself cum, finally releasing all over his cock. your jaw goes slack and your vision goes white and all you can hear is ringing in your ears while you experience an intense (and well deserved) orgasm. he guides your hips to grind on his cock to help you ride out your high while murmuring sweet praise to you.

when you do come down, you collapse on top of him, cock popping out of your pussy in the process. you whimper as you feel his cum leaking out of you and onto the sheets under you. 

“you came so much today, joshie,” you say softly with a bit of hoarseness to your voice while sniffling. 

he chuckles breathily at your observation, “did i?” 

you nod into the crook of his neck,“mhm, filled me up so well, thank you.”

“of course, baby… but are you okay? you were crying the whole time.” he asks, voice laced with slight concern as his hands soothe up and down your bare back. “know i said you looked pretty like that, but i just wanna make sure i didn’t hurt you.”

“no! no, just missed you, shua, i was really horny…” you mumble. “just wanted you to fuck me stupid all day long. was so miserable.”

he smirks, messy cock twitching a bit at your words, “well, i’m here now, baby, and i can make it happen if that’s what you still want?”

“really?”

“really.”

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taglist : 🔖 @roe-sinning @hyuk4ngel @bowmonde @rckwithyou @5xiang

#joshua smut #joshua x reader #joshua oneshot #seventeen smut #svt smut

[divine-donna]

hey, can you make Miguel O'Hara X gender neutral reader? Where reader (Miguel lover) accidentally get teleport or glitch in the spider verse where they (the Spidey's) were in the middle of chasing miles? Thank you! <3

hi anon. i'm happy to write this for you.

i wrote this in the form of headcanons rather than a fic. i'm still recuperating from finishing dragon age: inquisition, the succession finale (even if it was like a week ago), my adrenaline high from the across the spiderverse, and the other things i have written already.

some creative additions i made: this is a spidey! reader. i think it naturally made more sense to have a spidey! reader rather than a civilian. i would have to jump through a lot of hoops for a civilian reader to make sense and my brain does not have the capacity to jump through those hoops right now.

you deserved a well needed rest. after all the work you had been pulling to keep the multiverse safe, it was the least you deserved. especially a nap.

what you didn't expect when you went home was to just fall asleep on the couch.

you had gone out with your friends, finally caught up with them, and changing into some comfortable lounging clothes. you had plans to watch the newest 3 hour long ego project the director called a movie. and naturally because it was 3 hours long and an ego project filled with nothing, you ended up falling asleep.

what you forgot to take off was your multiversal band. you always kept it on in case of emergencies.

you also had a habit of rolling around in your sleep a bit. and you don't have the best luck with technology.

naturally your band malfunctions and you're thrown into the portal and transported back to hq.

ideally you didn't want to be falling through the space. but you were. and that woke you up.

"fuck! fuck! fuck!"

you had no web shooters. why would you? who sleeps with web shooters anyways? (actually there are some spider people that might)

and the worst part is, no one seemed to notice that you were falling. because they were busy doing something else.

when you squinted your eyes, you saw what was happening: every single spider-person that was at hq was chasing after one singular spider-person.

you didn't know who it was but from the looks of it, it looked like a young spider-person. someone who was only a kid.

if only you weren't just free falling-

"(y/n)! what are you doing here!" a familiar voice exclaims.

he caught you in midair, swinging safely to the nearest platform that wasn't stampeding with spider people and other variations of spider totems to set you down.

you took in his appearance. his hair was disheveled and his fangs were poking out. you also noticed his talons were out too and his breathing was heavy.

"i...i was teleported here on accident." you explain. "what is going on?"

"i can't talk right now. go back home! it's supposed to be your day off!" he gives you a small kiss on your cheek and prepares himself to jump off the platform.

"miguel, who is that?"

"miles morales. he disrupted a canon event and now the multiverse is at stake! and we're trying to prevent him from causing another one."

"okay well did you try talking to him?"

"of course!" he exclaims, turning to look at you. "it's the first thing i did. but he doesn't want to listen. now i have to catch him before he disappears!"

he doesn't even wait for you to respond before jumping off. as much as miguel loved you and loved talking to you and cherished your presence, he had to catch up to miles. he had to stop him.

he had to save the multiverse.

you were left with a sinking pit in your stomach. something told you that today was not the day to take off.

but first you needed to find lyla or margo to help with your watch so you can grab your suit and equipment and come back.

#requests #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spider-man 2099 #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #x reader #male reader #female reader #gender neutral reader

[ourbelovedd]

Pillow fights with Yuuji Itadori 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

cw: smut , kind of dom reader??

word count: 537

——————————————————

You and Yuji still pillow fight with eachother. You love to induldge in all the sweet moments with him. Its not like things cant take a turn though.

“Take that! You cant even touch me!” You exclaim, poking fun at the fact that despite your boyfriend being a grade 1 sorcerer, he cant even land a single blow on you with a pillow. Honestly, you were having so much fun you forgot you were only wearing a bra and panties.

All of a sudden, yuji tackles you down onto the bed.

“Oh- shit im sorry y/n! I got too carried away—“ he pauses. Yuji realizes hes got you pinned to the bed, then realizes what youre wearing and how good you look in it. The tiny lace bra barely even covering your nipples. He can feel his pants getting tighter around his crotch. Same as how you can feel his stiffness press against your leg.

You place your hand on his cheek ,” Oh, baby. You want me to take care of that for you? Hm?” He nods, shaking his head up and down.

You slowly emerge from underneath him. You get on top of him and start rubbing his cock through his pants, being very gentle.

“Fuck- Y/N, please let me fuck you, please.” he whines, already starting to whimper from you barely even touching him. He was touch starved. You hadnt had sex in a while, so it made sense but damn. You wouldnt expect it to be that bad.

You being to unbuckle his pants and pull down his boxers, watching his cock spring out. You spit in your hand and start pumping his cock slowly, with precum already starting to leak out of his angry red tip.

“Y/N, pleasee. ‘m already close just let me fuck you baby.” He begs, continuing to groan and whimper at every feeling of your hand gliding across his crotch. You feel bad for him, so you place his hands on your waist as a sign for him to start.

“Thank you baby, I love you so much.” Yuji presses a kiss on your forehead while removing your panties. He grabs your hips and guides them onto his cock, as he slowly begins to thrust into you. He makes sure to be very gentle with you, atleast for now.

“Baby, your pussy fuckin’ hugs me just right, holy shit-” Yuji moans out, thrusting into you with harsh but slow motions making sure that his tip hits your g-spot every time.

“Yuji, faster.” You demand.

Barely a minute has passed, and Yujis strokes have become much much faster and harder. He still gives you kisses on your hip bone, reassuring you.

“Oh—Fuck! Yujii! Your so fucking good!” You squeal, slurring your words. Even if he isnt being rough he makes sure his cock bullys your cervix with every thrust, hitting your sweet spot.

Yuji looks up at you, dazed with pleasure,” ‘m gonna cum baby, cum with me please.” he moans out, almost shaking. He lets out one loud whimper when your pussy hugs around him when he fills you up.

You collapse on top of him, both of you still psnting and sweaty. You run your hands through his silky pink hair,” Youre the best boyfriend ever. I fucking love you.”

——————————————————

so bored i wrote 2 one shots in a day!! 😱 gojo oneshot coming tmrw or next day prob - amiree

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu yuji #jujutsu kaisen yuji #jujutsu kaisen itadori #yuji itadori #jjk yuji #jjk yuuji #jjk itadori #jujutsu itadori #itadori x reader #itadori smut #itadori x you #itadori x y/n #yuji x reader #itadori yuji #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #im going insane

[blublublujk]

bound 2 (falling in love)

oneshot

word count: 6.5k

genre: fwb to lovers

pairing: yoongi x reader

summary:

You and Yoongi were okay with being friends with benefits... until you weren't.

warnings: i tried to focus on fluff (did you catch it or did i fail), explicit sexual content; unprotected sex (they make love to each other), choking and breath play (hello it's yoongi), multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, crying (is it really my ff if there's no crying involved), creampie, very cute aftercare and i think that’s all, this is more sweet than anything lol

a.n: believe it or not this wasn't apart of my drafts i wrote this all one night because i couldn't sleep so thank my insomnia for this, it was about time i write about yoongi :D

also i noticed a lot of you are reading it was destiny and love always wins and i wish you guys wouldn't only because i plan to rewrite some of it and continue them at a further time (chaptered ffs are so hard for me rn since i don't have all the time in the world to dedicate myself to them but i promise to be back with those two series) thank you for everyone who takes time to read what i write it really means so much and your comments have been so motivating. thank you so fucking much for 2k notes on good girl, gone bad i havent seen numbers like that ever im so so grateful, thank you from the bottom of my heart. i'll try to be back one or two more times this month and happy late birthday to me hehe <3

—> m.list

—> welcome me on ao3 & twt

—-

It happened again.

Another failed date to add to the sad list of people that simply will never workout for you.

The list was growing longer as months passed. When you started this list, it was barely the start of a very hot summer. Probably the hottest it’s been in years, one can only assume the winter will not be any easier. 

And you were right. Winter was only beginning and it was brutally cold. The streets were moist from the previous night of harsh rainfall. 

What better time to date and settle down than now. When the world gives you rain, settle for the warm arms of a lover.

Unfortunately, you made a grave mistake thinking this would come easy. Ten first dates later and you are still very single and loverless. 

It is not easy to go out during a time like now, suffering at the sight of happy couples and their stupid happy lives. Really, it should disgust you. It used to. The whole concept of devoting your entire life to someone. The need to constantly feel the tender touch of another person. The desire to fall in love and do it all over again, you get it now. At least, you think you do. 

“I don’t think this is gonna work.” The words fall from your mouth in a quiet rush. The man across you sits in silence before he smiles in his loss. 

“Don’t worry, I figured. It seems your mind was elsewhere. I know you don’t want to pursue anything romantically, and that’s fine with me, but is everything okay?” 

Is everything okay? Well currently, yeah you’re okay. As for your heart, it’s heavy and strangely, you feel there’s a hole in your chest and it needs to be filled. That would fix things, you think. You have been single for so long that you forgot what it was like to love and cherish someone. Not that you have ever truly loved or cherished anyone, but you’ve gotten close. If a silly relationship you had in your sophomore year of high school counts. Then yes, you’ve totally been in love. 

“I’m okay. Thanks for asking. I didn’t mean to lead you on, if it ever felt like I did.” The apology seems bitter in your mouth. Another failed fucking attempt. How difficult can dating be? Have you really been this disconnected with the world around you? 

“Don’t stress it! Things happen. I hope you can find what you’re looking for. See you… around?” The man’s understanding response makes you feel worse. Maybe you should consider deleting Tinder and finding love naturally, if that’s still a thing in the contemporary life. 

“Yeah, totally!” And like that you’re off to the next. Giving yourself plenty of time to bathe in your disappointment and miserably cry about your failed attempts at finding what you’ve been missing. Who knew dating could be so difficult?

The walk back home is just as cold as the outcome of today’s date. Your date insisted he could drive you home and if not that then pay for a cab, but you didn’t live too far from the restaurant you both met at. Though he insisted, you figured this walk could refresh you after yet another failure. You were starting to regret it as the cold wind started roughly hitting your skin. Preserving the chilly weather, you genuinely couldn’t wait to get home and wrap yourself in a bundle of warm blankets and comfortable clothes. 

Cold hands struggle to open your door, you blow on them with warm puffs of breaths, soon making your way in and getting comfortable in your humble apartment. 

yoon: you up?

And that, that is what made this harder. The fact that you knew there was someone completely capable of loving and caring for you the way you desired. You have seen it with your own eyes. Every time you ended up in his bed, in his arms, you felt it. Deep down you know something is there and that something beats everything else. Maybe you’re just delusional, but you look for him in everyone else and you hate it. Hate because you will never be anything more than his personal little whore that comes at the sound of his call. 

me: yeah

Normally, you aren’t dry over texts, especially not with him so he’ll see right through you. You’re hoping for once, he can ignore it. 

He won't. 

yoon: you ok?

me: been better

yoon: wanna talk about it?

me: no, i'm ok

yoon: ok, wanna come over? 

Yes, because during a time like this all you want is the comfort and warmth of someone else’s touch and Yoongi has never failed at giving that to you. But he is not yours.

And you are not his. 

me: not feeling well. sorry.

yoon: sick? 

A white lie never hurt anyone. 

me: yeah, throat hurts

yoon: im sorry 

me: it's not your fault maybe another time.

Though you really shouldn’t say that. There should be no next time. That way you don’t suffer any longer and drag him down with you, considering everything you’ve been feeling and dealing with lately. It’s not fair to Yoongi, but especially yourself.

He doesn’t reply anymore and you can’t even hide your disappointment. You aren’t disappointed at him, okay maybe a little bit at him, but mainly yourself and your recently found complicated feelings. 

You and Yoongi started this whole mess a year ago, before you even realized what you truly wanted. It started off with subtle flirting here and there. They say not to mess with coworkers, given that it can complicate things at work and one should never play with their main source of income, but you did it anyway. You are still young and he only made you feel younger, like a teenage girl crushing over her forbidden crush at church. It was silly, but Yoongi made it easy. 

The flirting turned to one thing, then another. 

“We shouldn’t, not here.” Yoongi had you pinned outside the club you both worked at, leaving trails of wet kisses down your throat.

“Five more minutes.” His words were muffled into your skin as his hands explored your body. Yoongi’s touch was always way too soft for his own good and you fell victim to his deadly warmth. 

“If Mr. Kim finds out, he’ll kill us and fire us both.” That was a bit dramatic on your part and you swore you felt the taller smiling against your neck.

Yoongi drops one last kiss on your cheek as his hot breath hits your ear. “Not if I kill him first.”

You gasped, pushing him off you with a quick smack to his chest. “D-Don’t even joke like that.” 

Yoongi just laughed. 

“Okay, okay baby.” The term of endearment fell from his lips too easily and you melted into the dark night. “See you after work?” 

You only nodded, not being able to deny his temporary warmth and sweet presence. Then he dropped a kiss on your lips, leaving you just as quick as when he first found you. You were fucked.

From there, it only got worse for your sake. Your heart could only take so much. 

Really, you should blame things on him. It was his fault you fell in love with him and his stupidly soft hands. It was all his fault! He left you no choice but to love the feel of his lips against your skin, to easily melt under his soft gaze, and find comfort in his unnecessarily warm bed. Yoongi was perfect. Everything you could ever want. 

That’s why it was so fucking hard. Dating was hard enough, but after feeling Yoongi’s intimate touch, you were a complete goner. Though he was far from it, Yoongi touched you like you were his and he would fuck you like a lover would. Kissing and making love to you as if you were the most beautiful woman on Earth. It was all too much. 

Fuck, you really needed to get a grip.

The knock on your door makes you jump from your couch. 

Ten minutes longer and you would have fallen asleep exactly where you were lying. In outside clothes and all. You didn’t even bother taking off the outfit you had carefully planned thinking that this lucky outfit would have finally taken you somewhere. It didn’t. 

“Coming!” There’s not a single person that should be outside your door, especially at this hour. Your feet make their way to the door regardless and the blood from your face drains when you see the person standing behind the door. 

Quickly, you unlock your front door, rushing the taller inside. “Hurry! It’s freezing! What are you doing out here?” 

Yoongi’s cheeks are surely frozen, a pink dust decorates his cheeks and the tip of his nose. It almost makes him look cute. You were far more gone than you imagined. 

He hustles inside, carrying a fairly large brown bag with him. He brought… groceries? 

“Took you long enough.” The taller one makes himself at home, laying his bag on your coffee table. 

“What are you even doing here?” You ask again. 

He ignores you. “Thought you said you were sick. You don’t look very sick?” 

Yoongi looks at you with a questioning look, his eyes wander your outfit and guilt starts eating your insides. 

You cross your arms, an attempt to hide yourself in shame, but what’s done is done. “I- I had plans.” 

“Yeah, I see that.” He simply says, standing awkwardly in your living area. 

If this doesn’t convince you to delete that forsaken app for the sake of your dignity and shameful behavior, you don’t know what will.

“Anyways, w-what brings you here?” 

“Brought you some stuff.” His hand waves over to the bag he carried inside. 

“Stuff?” You question, a bit dumbfounded, planted still in your place.

“Tea, cough drops, some soup I made earlier this week. Oh and flowers.” Yoongi doesn’t seem at all embarrassed or fazed about the situation. Not that he should be, but he speaks with a puff to his chest, as if he wanted to ensure you understood his every word and action. Like any concerned lover would be. As if he was yours and you were his.

Oh.

This was so so bad. For you and your weak heart. Fuck.

“I-“ 

He cuts you off before you even get to speak. “I don’t know if you’ll like it. It’s just some plain seaweed soup. Usually helps me when I’m sick. I’m not sure what flowers you like, or if you even like flowers. Do you? Their tulips. I did a bit of research before. My mom likes tulips. I figured you might like them too.” 

He did research? Double fuck! 

Yoongi was nervously rambling, now he was slightly embarrassed. Pink flushes his cheeks and it wasn’t the weather’s doing this time. 

“Yoongi…” You start breathlessly and in disbelief. 

“What?” He nearly stutters, his hand is shaking. He’s nervous. Who would have thought? 

“Why.” Is all you manage to ask. 

“You were sick.” Is all he replies. As if things were really that simple. What next? Would he come rushing to the hospital if you suddenly fell ill? God forbid, but it was a valid question. 

What was going on? For a second, you entertain the idea. Maybe he fell in love between the blurry lines of this complicated relationship. Were the shared intimate memories too special for him to forget too? You weren’t sure anymore, but what did this all mean? Maybe he loves you, as much as you love him.

Thoughts keep spinning and you wish there was an easier way to turn off your brain. Not now.

“I know, but why? Why all this? Why for me?” Your vulnerability is showing and it makes you feel weak. Maybe your hands are shaking too. 

“I don't understand?” Yoongi searches for the answer in your glossy eyes, he’s tempted to reach out and comfort you. Have you in his hands, but he’s too coward. He doesn’t want you to feel the shiver of his touch right now. His vulnerability peaks through as well. 

Why not you? It’s always going to be you. 

“I-I’m nothing to you.” There’s a shiver again and then you break. 

Yoongi doesn’t care anymore. He’ll consider the consequences later. Right now, none of it matters.

His hands hold your face, ready to wipe the tears that threaten to leak from your precious eyes. He hopes his hands aren't cold anymore from standing outside for so damn long, but he couldn’t stop himself, in his selfishness and all.

His hands shake slightly, trying to stay strong as he lays it all on the table. “Y/N, you’re everything to me.” He whispers, eyes never leaving yours.

You lay your own hands on his, you feel so delicate around him when you wrap warm hands around his cold wrists.

“I-I am?” You ask between sniffles. His hands are still pretty cold, but they’ll soon warm up against your soft skin. Nobody knows how desperately you need to be touched until you are and then it’s like little fireworks spark inside your body. It consumes you in the best way possible.

“Of course. I thought I made that obvious.” His eyes are soft, different to how he typically looks at you, but you’ve seen these same eyes before. They are no stranger. It’s similar to the look he gives you when you catch him staring at you while you are deep in work. He pretends to look away as if he wasn’t admiring you from afar and you pretend that you don’t notice his curious eyes. It’s the same look he has after you both end up in heated makeout sessions, behind the rusty club you both work at. And it’s definitely the same look he has while he settles on top of you, whispering sweet words of praise and promise.

Nothing should feel different but it just does, there’s something in the way he looks down at you that lets you know that everything you’ve been searching for has always been right here. Right where you’ve been all along.

The taller leans in and you freeze struggling to keep your eyes on his. Yoongi’s thumb brushes against your cheek with a soft touch. You were fragile between his hands and he’s willing to do anything to keep his precious flower safe. “Can I kiss you?” 

“Yes. Please.” You whisper back in a hurry, scared that this would be nothing but a dream. It wasn’t time for you to wake up yet.

His eyes zero-in on your lips and then he’s kissing you. It’s not much different from other times. After all, you guys have shared plenty of kisses, probably more than you should have considering you guys were friends with benefits, at most. But this time, the kiss isn’t just a careless lust-filled doing, no this time the kiss is a promise. The promise to never again allow you to question his feelings and intentions towards you. 

If Yoongi has to spend his whole life making this up to you, he simply would because that’s how much you meant to him. He can’t believe he even let this go on for this long. He should have been more clear and careful, but he doesn’t regret a damn thing. Not when he has all the time in the world to repair the time lost. And especially not when his reckless actions led him to this. To you.

Yoongi’s lips are soft and bend with yours with ease. He takes his time, never in a rush. Especially not when he has you in-hand. 

The taller doesn’t escalate the kiss. He keeps it sweet and gentle, like he always has been. “I’m so sorry baby.” 

Kiss.

“For?” 

Kiss.

Yoongi has the whole world in his hands right now as he looks down into the sparkles in your eyes and he’s never been so sure about anything in his life. “For being a fucking idiot.”

Kiss. 

“It’s okay.” A kiss is shared again. “I was an idiot too. I was just scared that you wouldn’t want that with me.” 

“Want what?” The taller questions, fingers trailing your face, admiring the imperfections and all. 

“A relationship, I mean. You seemed content with how our relationship already was. I was afraid of losing that. Of losing you.” You admit, eyes fluttering at his touch. 

“Of course, I want that. I want that and more. I-I’m not the best with relationships. I’m only saying this because I want to be open and honest with you. There’s not a second you aren’t on my mind. While at work, you are all I can see. In a crowd of a hundred, my eyes always find yours. I don’t know how to explain what you do to me. But I don’t mind. I think if I ever lost that, I would lose my mind. So I’m sorry if I ever made you feel the opposite. There’s so much more I want to say, but I just don’t know how. I want that. I want that so bad. A relationship and whatever more you give me. I might not be the best boyfriend but I’ll do whatever it takes. I- I love you.” Yoongi’s words are heartfelt and he’s so relieved. One because he’s been keeping this in for so long, any longer and he would have exploded, but second because he’s been dying to say those three words. He really does love you and Yoongi doesn’t love many people in life, but if he had to choose, it’s always gonna be you. 

The tears that were creeping on your eye-lids fall prettily down your face, but Yoongi comes to your rescue. He’s quick to wipe them off your pretty face, tempted to kiss them away, but he keeps that in for now. “Y-Yoongi… I love you too. So much. I think I always have. You are so easy to love. The way you look at me, care for me, and always show up for me. That says more about you than anything else. I tried dating to get over what I felt for you, as you can probably tell, but nothing worked. It was so easy, Yoongi. So easy to fall in love with you. You’re perfect and I don’t doubt that you’ll be the best even after all this. I love you.”

“I love you too, I love you. Fuck, I love you.” Yoongi kisses you again and this time he isn’t as gentle. His lips are still soft as ever as they curl around yours. His tongue comes out and you immediately allow access, letting him explore your mouth. The taste is much better now that there isn’t anything you both are holding back. Everything down on the line and you couldn’t be happier. The hole in your heart was never empty, it was just waiting for this exact moment to remind you that you’ve always had it all. 

“Yoongi.” In between breaths you call his name and Yoongi feels his knees lock. “Take me to bed.” 

Yoongi just nods in a trance with the way your tone drips of arousal. A long strand of hair falls on his face when he picks you up with ease off your feet. He takes you to the place he’s had the honor to visit a hundred times before, but it’s different this time, much different. 

In the process of it all, something falls and it causes you both to laugh until you run out of breath. 

“I can’t believe that just happened.” You laugh into his ear. “You owe me a new lamp. My mother bought me that, you know. House-warming gift.”

“Fuck, sorry.” Yoongi mumbles near a whisper as he grips you harder like he’s afraid he might drop you next and the idea makes you giggle because you know he would never purposely hurt you. “I’ll apologize to your mother directly. Buy you and her a new lamp, whatever it takes.”

“What makes you think you are meeting my mother?” You tease with a smile on your face, watching the blush rise on his cheeks. 

“Well, I figured we could, you know, if you would like–” Yoongi doesn’t often get shy about many things but he can’t keep calm around you and that kills him softly.

“I’m just teasing you.” You say and he bites his lip. “Of course you’ll meet my mother and my father and my nosy ass family. I hope you like annoying, persistent grandma’s that stuff you full. My grandma’s the worst of her kind, but she’ll love you.”

“I would love to.” Yoongi simply replies, still whispering as if you guys had to keep quiet or else you’d be in deep trouble. 

“Why are we still whispering?” You whisper back, roaming fingers through his long, gorgeous hair. He needs to remind you to thank his mother personally for insisting he keep his hair long because it made him look pretty and you could never disagree. Yoongi’s so pretty. 

“I-I don’t know.” 

You both smile at each other before sharing another kiss. It’s so sweet and if you weren’t already off your feet, you would be floating by now. He’s gentle when letting you drop into the sheets below, he finds space between your legs and you wrap them around his hips. Lips still in contact, never losing the plushy feel. 

Everything starts to feel hot. Your hips start to slowly grind against his begging for any sort of friction. But the kissing doesn’t stop. 

Not when you start whining against his lips. 

Not even when Yoongi starts trailing his fingers down your waist and around your curves. He teases his fingertips against your waistline, soft to the touch. 

It’s not until you mewl loudly into his mouth, skillful tongue playing with yours, as you feel him start unbuckling your pants, button-by-button. 

Yoongi’s eyes are heavy-lidded, his gaze burning fire. “Gonna take care of you now, is that okay?” 

You furiously nod, coming up to kiss him once more, both your lips are raw and sensitive, but it gives you more of a reason to fix it with even more kisses. 

He drops one quick kiss onto your mouth before he trails down your jaw. Yoongi breathes in the sweet scent on your skin, wishing he could feel you even closer. “Smell so damn good.”

His voice is raspy against your ear and it makes you blush, while you feel his hand finally touch you where you had been aching with need. “Wanna hear you.”

Breathing lightly, you whisper. “Make me.” 

And of course, Yoongi makes you regret how fast you said the words because he delves his fingers forward with little resistance. Two fingers stretch you at the same time, gasping at the sudden sensation. 

By now, you were molded to fit Yoongi’s fingers. On days where you were really in need, you would take four, all at once. Yoongi was best at reading every expression, every crease and scrunch to your face, especially emotions. He knew exactly how to curve his fingers, the way to build you up, and bring you back down. Yoongi knew it all and he was so lucky too. 

He never anticipated it would have gone this far. It was just sex to begin with. But who were you both kidding, it was always much, much more. 

Yoongi curves his fingers in the way he’s used to and watches your mouth drop, sweet noises soon leaving your lips. “Feels good?” 

There’s no need to ask because he can tell. Your expression tells him everything he needs to know. That and the fact that you are dripping around his fingers but it’s sexier hearing it from you. 

“Yeah… f-feels so good.” With his other hand he tugs your clothes off, leaving you bare on the bottom. Remembering the first few times is a bit embarrassing, but Yoongi always made sure to take his time and make you feel comfortable. It was special and memorable in its own way, and Yoongi felt it too. 

This is unlike any first time, but it was technically the first time you could officially make love to each other until you fall lovesick and that had to be impossible around someone like Yoongi. 

“Hold your legs open for me, flower.” You try to ignore the warm feeling that buzzes in your chest, but you are sure your face says it all. Without another word, you spread your legs open, tucking both hands behind your thighs.

“Flower?” You breathe out with a bit of a struggle as his two fingers continue to pump deep inside you, brushing repeatedly against your g-spot. 

“Do you not like it?” Yoongi smiles slightly, biting his bottom lip while he watches you start to tremble, making the prettiest sounds. 

“I do. Why the new name?” Voice a bit unsteady but it does the job. Yoongi thinks of all the times he thought you were as pretty as a flower, which really was all the time. Especially, in the way he has you right now. Pretty, pretty as a flower. 

“I’ve always wanted to call you that. You’re pretty, sweet, delicate. Just like a flower.” He justifies his reasoning and you melt into puddles. 

“Yoongi.” Voice sweet as honey. 

“Yes baby.” He replies with ease.

“Make love to me, Yoongi.” 

There was a time in his life where Yoongi believed he could live without love. How foolish of him to think so. When he met you, it was a complete three-sixty. Suddenly, Yoongi started to look forward to his shit job. He looked forward to that time between breaks where he could admire you from the back like a pinning loser. Yoongi even started to like the walks he had to take to get to work because he knew that the path would eventually lead to you. He started looking forward to tomorrow's and to the bright future that led ahead. His mom would often complain that he was wasting his life away waiting for it to start, but Yoongi thinks life truly started the day he met you. 

It was a bit awkward because you couldn’t even look him in the eyes, intimated by the staff and new environment. You had previously worked in different bars so you assumed it would be no different and it wasn’t, but the intimidation of a new job was there nonetheless. Yoongi was there every step of the way. He had a crush on the new employee and you needed help on fitting in. Either way, your friendship was very platonic until it wasn’t. 

Yoongi knows he should have said something along the lines “hey, maybe we shouldn't be doing this anymore. I’m in love with you and I have been since you started working here” but the stupid words never made it out. He felt it would be too much to hear and it would only make him look like a complete loser. 

And you felt the same. It was silly really, because everyone around you knew it and there was no reason to fear someone as easy going and non-judgemental as Yoongi, nonetheless it brought you both here. After many failed dating attempts, you were finally happy and in the arms of someone who you truly love and want to be loved by. 

There was a time in his life where Yoongi believed he could live without love, now Yoongi believes your precious, sweet love brought him back to life and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. 

Clothes now discarded on the floor, heavy breathing filling the room, and Yoongi could get wasted on the smell of your intoxicating perfume. “Breathe flower.”

Yoongi felt you shiver at the sound of his words, throwing your head back as he thrusts you full of cock. He pushes inside you with gentle movements, struggling to keep himself up while feeling the tug of your warm velvet-like walls. 

You gasp feeling him hit your cervix in a calm, slow pace. It was breathtaking regardless of the gentle rhythm. “You’re so deep...”

“I know flower, breathe baby, breathe.” He is struggling to keep from coming inside you, overwhelmed by his own emotions as your eyes roll back, feeling the pressure rise in your belly. Without a condom, everything feels so different from other times, feeling every ridge and crease fold inside your drenching heat. You take him so nicely, like you always have. Like you’ve always belonged to him. 

You don’t even notice you stopped breathing until you start feeling lightheaded and desperate for fresh air. Breathing just as much as necessary so you don’t faint, you shake your head against his hold, his eyes watch yours, observing with curiosity. 

“No?”

“Mm, n-no.” You shake your head again, whimpering when you feel him kiss your cervix with his swollen tip, over and over and over. “Can– can you…”

“Can I what, pretty flower?” Yoongi rolls his hips a bit faster, feeling his orgasm build too quickly. He wishes he could have days with you like this always. Days to love and worship you from head to toe.

“Choke me.” You manage to say. “Don— don’t wanna breathe.” 

Yoongi growls deep, increasing his speed even more, desperate to fill the deepest part of your glistening folds. He feels you tense underneath, the sounds coming from your mouth are loud enough for your neighbors to hear, but Yoongi stopped giving a fuck about everything around him. 

He places a hand on your throat and squeezes gently, not blocking off your airways completely, but leaving you just enough air to work with. It drives you insane. The more you breathe, his rough thrusts take the air out from your lungs and the process repeats. It feels so good.  

“M-more. Harder.” You barely hear your own words, but Yoongi seems to understand because his dick is moving rapidly inside you, nearly splitting you in two. You wrap both hands around his wrist, loving the heavy weight against your chest. It’ll end too soon and it disappoints you in a way, but you have all the time in the world to make this up. “G-Gonna come.” 

Yoongi nods, concentrating on the way your face scrunches with pleasure. With love. The way your eyes tell him a story. God, Yoongi’s madly in love. “Come, my precious flower.” 

With those final words, you come on his bare slick cock, blossoming in the blissful afterglow. Yoongi doesn’t stop thrusting inside you, but he takes his hand off your throat, kissing your face gently when he sees tears start leaking down your cheeks. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay baby. Breathe for me. Slowly.” Yoongi’s words bring you back down and you throw your arms around him, crying against his shoulder. You don’t even know what invoked this strong emotion to sob your eyes out, but Yoongi allows it, caressing the back of your head. Yoongi doesn’t judge, he only holds you until you settle down. “It’s okay baby, let it out. Breathe, pretty flower.” 

“C-Come inside muh-me, please.” Even after all that, you still beg for him and Yoongi wants to laugh but for your sake and the fact that it’s endearing to him, he delivers accordingly without further questions. 

Right as he’s going to paint your walls white, he pushes himself up with one hand, still holding you with the other. “You sure?”

You’re confused about the sudden question, the tears still decorate your face but then you understand. “Birth control. Just come in me Yoongi, fuck me, fu-fuck.”

Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to regain his brutal pace, fucking you with purpose. Not that he doesn’t want kids in the near future, but he sure as hell doesn’t want any right now. He’s glad you are on the same page but maybe one day the conversation would spark and he wouldn’t want the mother of his kids to be anyone else but you. You were perfect for him. 

“Gonna come.” That’s the only warning you get, then he’s emptying himself inside your tight walls. He doesn’t stop rolling his hips, his slit leaking puddles, until he’s pumped himself dry. With one last thrust, he groans and carefully pulls out. 

He brings you with him, head falling against his chest as he continues to play with your hair, leaving kisses into your bare shoulders. “You okay baby?”

“Perfect. Feel so good.” You mumble into his skin, feeling around his waist. “I’m leaking your come into the sheets though.”

“I’ll take care of it, pretty flower.” You nod sleepily into his chest with a quiet ‘thank you’, feeling completely sated and satisfied, aching with exhaustion. “Sleep baby, I got you.”

With that, you fall deep into the shackles of sleep. Yoongi rubs your back until you completely fall asleep in his arms. He struggles to unwrap himself from your hold, but when he finally succeeds, he tucks you in and kisses your cheek a few times before getting up to clean up after the mess you both created. 

He’s light on his feet, bringing a warm towel to your slick folds and wipes as best he can, being gentle so you could continue to enjoy your sleep. Even like this, you look so beautiful and Yoongi is an extremely lucky man. 

Yoongi makes sure to also pick up the lamp he dropped from earlier as well. He blows out a breath of relief when he notices that the damage is nothing big and nothing that can’t be fixed. He’ll make sure to fix that as soon as he can. 

While he’s out there, Yoongi places the tulips into a vase and fills it with water, placing it near a window where it could grow and blossom beautifully near the sunlight. He even cuts the tips into slants because he had heard somewhere online they last longer that way, making sure to get rid of any dead leaves and petals. Yoongi couldn’t be happier.

After he’s done with the light cleaning, he washes his hands and feels the exhaustion hit him tenfold. He’s careful when placing himself back in bed, lifting your arm and placing himself underneath you. The man smiles when he feels you curl yourself around him, sleeping soundlessly. 

“I love you.” He whispers and even though you don’t say it back Yoongi feels it with the way you melt into his arms. Yoongi falls asleep easily that night. 

…

“Baby.” Yoongi hears someone call him and he ignores it. Sleep calls his name louder and he doesn’t feel like waking up right now so he groans and cuddles deeper into the bedsheets below him, unaware of the life around him. 

“Baby wake up.” You keep calling sweetly and it’s tempting but he persists.

“No. Don’t wanna.” Yoongi grumbles like an old man and you can’t help but to laugh. “Just ten more minutes.”

When you woke up the next morning, you were so thankful Yoongi had kept his promise. Your apartment was flawless and you were as clean as you could be. The tulips looked prettier today as the sun shined on the delicate petals. You even had time to warm the seaweed soup he brought from home and you couldn’t wait to get a taste. The smell alone is delicious and it warmed your home up nicely, you truly couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that this was no longer a dream but your reality. You could definitely get used to this. 

You drop kisses onto his warm cheeks until his eyes flutter open, almost similar to a cat. “There you are.”

Yoongi pulls you into his arms again with quiet noncoherent grumbles and closes his eyes once more. “Give me ten minutes.”

“It’s already been ten.” You whisper lightly laughing. 

“Oh. Ten more then.” You get comfortable on his chest and cuddle for a bit longer because you can’t say no to his cute sleepy self. 

Yoongi starts to sniff the air with curiosity. “Is that the seaweed soup I brought you?” 

“Mhm.” You hum. “Better get up soon before it burns.” 

That manages to be convincing enough and Yoongi forces himself up, with you in his embrace. 

“Wanna wake up like that forever.” He says, voice filled with sleep. 

“You can.” 

Yoongi snaps his heavy eyes towards you. “Are you–”

“Move in with me, Yoongi.” Yes, you skipped every step to this, but nothing was ever to code between you and Yoongi. One thing you were so sure of and that was spending the rest of your life with him. “Please.”

“I- yes, of course.” Yoongi wraps his arms around you for a tight hug, kissing your temple. “I love you. I love you and I’ll prove it to you every single day.” 

“I know, I love you too. I love you.” Those three words come out from your mouths so easily and it’s nice that you no longer have to ever hold back. The man of your dreams is in the palms of your humble home and he’s in love with you. This was better than any dream. 

“Let’s eat?” He says after some time of hugging and kisses being interchanged. 

You nod, letting him take you there. Your kitchen is filled with the cruel aroma of food and your tummy rumbles as you sit comfortably while you wait for him to serve you a bowl of the warm tasty soup. 

“I should be doing that. I’m a terrible host.” Yoongi shakes his head while smiling, the fluff of hair moving with him, then your phone dings. “Hold on, give me a second.” 

Your heart drops when you see it is a Tinder notification from a man you promised to get back to. You look over to find Yoongi serving your bowl, making his way to the table. He leans in puckering slightly and you immediately lean into the sweet sudden kiss while he places your meal in front of you. This Yoongi is new because it wasn’t often you could act domestically towards one another, however this was perfect and just what you needed. 

“Everything okay baby?” Yoongi asks while caressing your soft cheek and you immediately nod in his palm. 

“Yes, everything’s perfect.” You reply in awe. “Thank you Yoongi, for everything.”

For letting me love you and for loving me back. 

The older man just smiles and joins you for the meal. 

It turns out you didn’t need Tinder after all. 

You quickly delete the app off your phone and start to eat with the love of your life, conversation flows while you enjoy each other’s presence and fall deeper in love. 

Alike Yoongi, you couldn’t imagine it happening any other way. You were bound to fall in love, one way or another, but that man was meant to be yours as you were meant to be his.

#yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #bts fanfic #yoongi x reader #bts fluff #bts x y/n #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #bts smut

[strawberryya]

notice me!

pairing: jihoon x reader

synopsis: Your boyfriend has a hectic life, but he usually has at least a little time to spare for his girlfriend. Now it has been two months since he last spent some alone time with you and you're losing your mind just a little over it... luckily, angry make-up sex can solve any problem!

word count: 2.1k

genre/cw: smut, angry sex, also make-up sex, established relationship, feeling neglected in relationship and bad ways of handling said feeling, unprotected sex, manhandling, light choking, fem reader, musician/producer! woozi.

rating: 18+

a/n: I had a moment a couple weeks ago where I wrote this whole thing in one hour in the middle of the night, and then I forgot about it and now I'm in shock just a little bit... anyhow, yay angry sex with wooziiii

network tagging: @svthub @cultofdionysusnet @k-labels @kvanity-main

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You watched your boyfriend of two years looking at his phone, scrolling mindlessly across whatever app he found more interesting than his girlfriend sitting on the other end of the couch. You were barely wearing anything, a large t-shirt barely covering the sexy lingerie you had put on for tonight. 

“Jihoon, it’s been two months.” 

You wanted him to notice you. He had barely been home at your shared apartment for weeks. You knew his work was demanding, and that he gave it his all no matter what. But you have been feeling neglected lately. He had been coming home late, crashing on the couch instead of sleeping in your bed. Only giving you a chaste kiss before running off to work the next morning with a groggy “Sorry I missed dinner last night,” as a greeting. 

He hadn’t touched you in two months. You had counted the days, and after three weeks you were wondering if he wasn’t stressing too much about the latest album. After six weeks you had been feeling too horny for your own good, and your toys weren’t fulfilling your needs anymore. You wanted to feel him again. It didn’t matter how many times you came. It didn’t hit the spot. After two entire months of him being abstinent, you had begun getting snarky at the smallest things he did wrong. 

Jihoon looked up from his phone at your statement. He carelessly scratched his chin, making your pussy clench at the memory of those perfect hands being all over your body once upon a time. “Two months? Of what?” 

“Of you acting like a damn nun,” you said, dead serious. 

“A nun?!” He gasped out. 

“Yes! A nun!” You shouted back at him. 

He looked you over, sitting at the other end of the couch, dolled up more than usual and staring at him as if he had offended yuo great grandmother by existing. Then it seemed to click in his mind. “Oh,” was all he said.

Two months? Had it been that long? He knew very well that he had been resisting his urges, but he had managed for two entire months? He had been so busy with the new album, he had been staying late at the studio every day and waking up rushing back to the studio to put the new ideas he got during the night into reality. Two months without sex, and a pissed off girlfriend because of it. 

“I’m sorry?” 

You looked at him like he was an equation, mouth open just a bit as you stared at him in shock. “You’re sorry? What the fuck does that mean?” He was so clueless, you thought as you watched the dumb face he was making. (You still wanted that stupid handsome face of his to eat you out until you cried, but that was besides the point.)

Jihoon knew he had fucked up, you were pissed off and picking a fight, and he hadn’t made it better by not even knowing that he hadn’t slept with you in two whole months. 

“Do you even care? Because you don’t seem to care one bit about it since you didn’t even know! Do you not like me anymore? Are you not attracted to me anymore? Are you in love with someone else? Why the fuck would you go and cheat on me?!”

He stared at you in complete surprise. Cheating? “Hold up- hold up! What are you talking about?!” He said, flabbergasted at the way you seemed to have drawn the most far-fetched conclusions to this problem you could’ve possibly thought of. “I’ve been busy with the comeback! Please, baby, why are you acting crazy?” 

He shouldn’t have said that, he knew it the second the word left his perfectly plump lips. 

“Crazy? Did you just call me crazy? You haven’t seen crazy, you fucking asshole!” You shouted as you stormed out of the room. You were packing your bags, if he didn’t want to be with you anymore you wouldn’t be the one to stop him from moving on and sleeping with whoever else he wanted. Because it sure as hell wouldn’t be you after he had just called you crazy for noticing that he wasn’t interested in you anymore. 

“What are you doing?? Why are you messing up the apartment? Are you leaving?” he shouted, seemingly surprised that you didn’t feel like staying in an apartment that he was hellbent on making a girlfriend-free zone. 

“Yeah, I’m fucking leaving,” you grunt, shoving some shirts into your bag. You wouldn’t be able to grab it all but at least you could make it with the stuff you were throwing into it for a while. Y9ou could always borrow your friends’ stuff until you could get back all your clothes. “You’re pissing me off and I don’t wanna hate you.”

Jihoon was by the bedroom door now, hands pushing his hair out of his face as he watched you angrily packing your bags. How had he fucked up so badly that his girlfriend wanted to leave him like this? 

“Hate me? Baby, I really don’t know what I did to mess up this bad…” 

Of course, he didn’t understand, because apparently, your boyfriend was a freaking master at staying “pure”. He hadn’t even spent a single thought on you and what he could do with you. He only cared about his music. And you wouldn’t be the one to stand in his way if thats how he truly felt. 

“You don’t know?! Look at me Jihoon!” You threw the t-shirt off your body in an angry fit, making your boyfriend’s eyes widen. “I’ve been waiting for you to notice me, to care even a bit about me- about us- for months!! And tonight, I just can’t do this anymore. I’m losing my mind because you won’t fuck me, how stupid is that?” You nearly sobbed as you made it clear that you were frustrated in more than one way. You were so mad at him, and still, you couldn’t help but admire the way he looked so hot even now, his long black hair falling in pretty curls around his face and his lips shiny and pink. He looked so kissable it was like he was teasing you just by existing. 

“You got me all addicted to your cock and then you fucking left me to go through some kind of twisted withdrawal.” 

He gulped, his adam's apple moving in his throat, you didn’t even care to look at him anymore, you were angrily throwing your shit into the bag on the bed yet again, bent over and flaunting the tiny piece of fabric that tried it’s best to cover your ass. “You don’t even care,” you rumbled as you stuffed more things into the bag. He took in the way the lace set hugged your curves deliciously, he had been so busy with everything he hadn’t even noticed his own cravings. He had ignored it all for so long. 

“Shut up.”

His voice was deep, and commanding. Your breath caught in your throat, surprise and need mixing in an arousing blend that went straight to your head. “Excuse me?” Your movements paused completely. When you heard his footsteps approaching you hastily you looked at him, his gaze was darkened, and your core clenched around nothing as he pulled the bag from your grasp. Throwing it on the ground before he pushed your barely clothed body into the bed. 

“You think I don’t fucking care anymore just because you haven’t gotten dick in a couple weeks? Are you that desperate to be stretched like a little whore?” He growled in your ear, his bulge evident in the way he pressed against your ass. “I care, and I see you. So shut up.” 

You gasped at his harsh movements, neediness soaking your panties in record time. God, you were pathetic. 

“I haven’t eaten, I haven’t slept, and I sure as hell haven’t let myself even think about this sweet pussy of yours. I’ve been denying myself it all. But you’re right…” his hand pressed against your throat where you laid face down on the bed, “I’ve been neglecting you. You wanna know why? It’s because I knew that if I so much as looked at you, or held you in my arms while you slept so innocently, I wouldn’t be able to help myself. I wouldn’t have been able to do anything but fuck your tight little pussy all day and night.” His growling voice set off all kinds of sparks in your core. You needed him, now. 

You pushed your ass up against him, eating a groan from your boyfriend. “Such a little slut,” he mumbled, letting go of your throat and pulling himself back from you completely. You were dizzy from the hold around your throat, his perfect hands remembering just the way you liked to feel them around you. You were about to whine when his touch left your body when you heard the familiar shuffling of his clothes falling off his body. You wanted to see it, take his form in properly after all these weeks. But he was faster, pushing you back down against the bed before you got up. 

His erection pressed against your heat, making you moan as he prodded against the soaked fabric covering your entrance. 

“Jihoon, please,” you mewled, wiggling underneath his firm body. 

“Wanna shut up and let me fuck you then since you’re so fucking needy?” 

“Please, yes! Anything! Please fuck me!” You almost cried as you pleaded with him. 

“Sobbing over cock, you really are such a dirty girl for me.” He groaned as he let his pretty hands smooth over one of your asscheeks, smacking down hard and leaving a burning sting after him. Even that felt good. You needed him more than you had ever needed anything in your life. 

You felt him pull the sticky fabric from your core, pushing it aside in favor of pushing the head of his hard cock against your messy pussy. “I’m about to drown in you later tonight, just you wait.” He whispered before pushing past your entrance, slipping inside, your walls lubing his cock up as he entered. He ignored the way you were so tight it almost hurt to push all the way inside, your moaned pleas for him to go deeper, and the way you were gripping the sheets while he pushed all of himself inside of your dripping heat enough of a reason to push through. It had been so long since he had felt your walls gripping around him that he could’ve spilled his seed into you right then and there. 

He pulled himself together soon enough, thrusting into you at a brutal pace. Your ass which you had pushed up to meet his hips at first had been completely overpowered by the sheer force he was fucking you into the mattress with. You were coming for the first time within minutes. Screaming and sobbing as you finally came around him. He continued, repeating to you what a good toy you were, and how good of a girl you had been for holding out for him this long. 

When you were moaning again, closing in on a second orgasm he told you to come again. Lifting your ass up to balance you on your knees and chest, one of his arms wrapping around your hip to reach your clit, pressing down on it while he let his cock slip in and out effortlessly. Your arousal dripped down your thighs. You came undone and sobbed as he continued to overstimulate your abused cunt. 

He continued fucking you until he couldn’t take it anymore, his own orgasm crashing into him with such force it knocked the breath from his lungs. 

“That was one hell of an apology,” you said, breathless and still leaking cum, exhausted after having all your pent-up frustrations released all at once like this. 

Jihoon chuckled, a sound you had missed these past weeks as well. He really had been unusually absent in your life. It wasn’t just about the sex, you had missed him a lot. “I’m sorry for not being around as much,” he said, dragging a gentle hand over your back. You hadn’t had the energy to move a once from the position he had dropped your hips from once he had pulled out. 

“I just missed you, I’m sorry for lashing out.” 

“Don’t worry about it, just… next time you should just ask me to fuck you instead of threatening to leave me.”

You were embarrassed now, you had acted like a complete maniac, but my god - if that’s how he fucked a maniac, you wanted to stay crazy for the rest of eternity. 

Reblogging and commenting is highly appreciated!! Hearing what you thought is what makes writing and being here overall so much fun! Ty and ily 💕

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#woozi smut #seventeen smut #kwritersworldnet #jihoon smut #woozi svt smut #seventeen #svt smut #svt #woozi #jihoon x reader #x reader #fem reader #x reader smut

[2smolbeans]

Thinking about the replacement student from that AU you wrote. Thinking about how it must have felt, to so suddenly go from mundane life to being deeply, obsessively loved. Thinking about how, to some people, that would be so /addicting/. Thinking about how they could have found out they’re nothing more than a prop, a test for MC. Thinking about how far they might be willing to go in order to feel that way again, to be loved like that again. I have… many thoughts about this lol

How the "Replacement" student felt after realising they were only a tool to test Mc

Yandere Obey Me Brothers x Mc (Replaced Au)

◇Read here for context◇

Tags: Implied nsfw, self-loathing, envy, replacement goes from hating you to being happy that they're not you, possessiveness, mentioned waterboarding, character backstory, story lore, just some light hearted stuff overall ^^

*this went unedited

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So for background, let's get to know our 'rival student'. In most of the Obey Me Replaced Aus, the rival student is always this perfect person who someone managed to bewitch the brothers and someone who wanted the worst for Mc. But this rival student, Alex, isn't what you expect. You see, Alex was your typical geek, always on her phone, scrolling, reading her books about fictional fantasy love interests, stealing away the main character into their magical world. When she was in her second year in college, she happened to come across an attractive man sitting behind a booth that showed an opportunity to study abroad. Seeing how no one was bothering to look at the table, she saw this as an opportunity! The more she talked and got to know the man, the more interested she was in this program. I mean living expenses, costs, and free money?! Why wouldn't she consider taking the exchange program? They're practically paying anyone who signs up!

So after grabbing the man's email and talking back and forth, she was able to read over the consent forms, the legal contracts, yada yada- and signed them all. After the transportation process and the whatnot, here she was at Devildom! At first, she had no idea where she was, infact she was mortified once she realised that she was in hell (or at least a certain part of it). But after the introduction and the promise of safety, especially after seeing some angels walking around- she was able to adjust! So what happened when she met the brothers? Well, she wasn't dumb. She knew these were the seven deadly sins just by seeing how they interacted with each other and hearing them bicker each others names. So, knowing the seven deadly sins, she kept her distance. She heard that there was supposed to be a human around in the house, but no matter how hard she looked - for some reason, she couldn't find you. It was like you were hidden..

As days went by, she noticed a few things. She noticed how the seven lords argued about some sort of 'schedule' that they seemed very competitive over. She noticed the way they were really..Well she couldn't explain it. But they were intense. Their aura alone was suffocating to be around. It was like they were ready to snap at any moment. They were friendly, but in a way that she knew if she pressed any further in a conversation, they would simply stare into her soul with an expression that would send her into a primal fear.

Eventually, after a while- she started to warm up to the brothers. She couldn't recall how or why, but it just happened! They connected so well that she almost forgot that they were the seven deadly sins! During this time, she had actually seen you from the corner of her eye. But if she was being honest, she was too distracted from all the exciting moments the brothers would entangle her in. She had never felt so..Loved before. The feeling of someone always validating your emotions, someone to call out to, someone to be in sync with. It was like her prayers had finally been answered! There was one time you had tried reaching out to her, but she was so entranced by the brothers and their tempting offers of intimacy- she might've brushed you off.

But of course, all things don't last forever - and I guess that's where the rose tinted glasses came off and realilty began to settle in. In reality, the brothers didn't love her. Of course, there had to be a motive behind all those gifts. Demons always have a motive, after all. And that motive so happened to be you. She was just a prop, a tool, an example to be made out of for you. Once she realised that, she grew bitter. It was terrifying how fast they were able to drop the act and reveal their true nature. She felt fooled, helpless, and pitiful. She played the role perfectly. The human fooled by sin.

So when she saw you being bombarded with the love she once had, she grew jealous of you. While you ungratefully received the love she wanted, she got the cold shoulder and mockings. While you would hide and try to blend in with the crowd, she would put herself out there and try over and over again to get their attention. Eventually, she felt the shame rush over her as she realised her desperation and pitiful attempts to win the 7 lords back. That still didn't stop her from hating you, though. She knows it was childish at first, but she despised you. What did you have that she didn't? Why were these unearthly lords so obsessed with you? Why couldn't anyone love her like they loved you..? Don't you see how lucky you are? It's not fair.

So, for a period of time, she was filled with envy. So much envy and bitterness that Leviathan himself would often feed off from her jealousy and snicker at her pathetic state.

Now, did Alex- this 'replacement student get over her grudge? Yes. But in an unfortunate way. After a period of self-loathing and wrath against you, she realised how much freedom was held back against you.

She noticed the markings of their packs littered across your body, she espically took note on how the eldest brother Lucifer would make sure to that your clothes would reveal those certain areas, even if it came off as..Exposing. She saw the way Mammon would cling onto you painfully tight. She recalled how uncomfortable you looked when his claws would push against your hip a little too hard. She remembered the time when she saw Leviathan drowning a poor angel that you talked to from one of your classes while you cried and begged for him to stop. She could remember the way he nonchalantly went on his phone while his tail wrapped around their body, pushing them up and down for long periods of time against the cold waves- only stopping when you agreed to his request with a smile on his face. There were nights where she'd hear you screaming in Asmodeus's room..Though she doesn't really want to talk about that..To save you dignity of course..She also doesn't look at Asmodeus's devilgrams as well for those reasons...Yeahh..She could go on a whole tangent about what she's seen, but she knows it's enough for her to realise that she really dodged a bullet. This was a blessing in disguise! A lesson to be learned!

So Alex stops trying to get attention on herself and continues on with her life. Learning witchcraft, magic, and the education that hell had to offer. She's still trying to get over that awful feeling of betrayal and jealousy. But the more she looks into their eyes, the more she realises how severe the situation is. Especially when one night, Belphegor had visited her dreams and gave her a nice little 'warning'. (She now tries to avoid sleeping as much as possible and has scars all over her body)

So every time you go missing and the brothers ask where you are. She'll just point to where she saw you run off and hide away somewhere to avoid seeing what happens next. Overall, when it comes to finding that love again and dealing with the losses, she copes in many ways. Either imagining scenarios in her head of what could've been or journaling in her book. But if you were to ask her if she would steal the brothers away from you, her answer would be an immediate no.

She couldn't imagine going through what you have to go through. At this point, it's a "love them, not me!" situation. So for now, please leave her alone, let her deal with her heartbreak, and just don't pull her into your circle of hungry demons.. Please.

.

.

A/N: Funfact, Mc had once snuck in a "help me" note to the replacement student. The replacement student in question ripped the note and pretended like nothing happened! It's not her fault that when you gave her the note that Beel was breathing down her neck!

Also.. Alex was given consent forms and an early notice about arriving at RAD. You? You didn't have that luxury..

Surprisingly, Satan and Lucifer are chill with her since they know that she understands the circumstance and plays by the rules. Because of this, she made a request to move to the house of purgatory in the guise of "not being in the way."

Mc tries to reach out to the replacement student because they know that Lucifer and Satan are on good terms with them..

But thanks for the ask!! If anyone has any questions or specific scenes they want out of my Yandere Obey Me Replaced Au-, let me know!

.

.

____________________________

#yandere obey me #obey me replaced au #obey me replaced mc #obey me yandere #yandere x reader #yandere obey me x reader #yandere obey me x mc #yandere obey me leviathan #yandere obey me levi #yandere obey me asmodeus #yandere obey me mammon #yandere obey me lucifer #yandere obey me belphegor #yandere obey me satan #yandere satan #yandere belphie #yandere lucifer x reader #yandere obey me headcanons #yandere obey me au #yandere obey me! #yandere obey me prompts #yandere obey me smut #yandere obey me shall we date #yandere obey me x you #obey me au #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #obey me dark au #2smolbeans ramble

[judeswhore]

breaking up with jude and having to take all his things back to him

omg wait i actually wrote something abt this for a fic i was gna write and then scrapped so u can have it here, it’s not the best but

"y'know you could've just asked me to drop these off for you. then you wouldn't have to see him." katie riffled around in the bottom of her bag in search for something, her tone light despite her words and she only glanced at you briefly while waiting for a reply. tearing your gaze from the house across the road you shook your head, wiped your sweaty palms across the material of your trousers.

"i want to see him."

"you want to see him?"

"yeah. no. i don't know, kinda? i don't want him to think i've taken the break up badly."

him being jude. after almost three years of dating he'd brought the relationship to an end, a decision he promised you he hadn't made lightly. for you it was out of the blue, you hadn't been fighting and there'd been no signs, sure you hadn't seen each other much with uni and his career but that was something you'd grown used to. for him it had been building. he said he couldn't handle the distance anymore, that it was getting too much to love someone who was never around. you got it, sort of, but that didn't make it hurt less. this conversation had happened two weeks ago, you'd only just found the motivation to peel yourself out of bed to return a bunch of his things.

from across the car, katie threw you skeptical look.

"you've cried every day since and consumed like half of england's ice cream supply. you have taken it badly." you huffed and leaned into the back seat to grab the box, careful not to let anything tumble out when you pulled it into your lap.

"he doesn't need to know that." you best friends mouth opened, a disapproving retort on her tongue but you beat her to it, pushing the car door open. "i'm okay now. i want to do this in person." you stumbled out with the box, turning to close the door behind you but katie had leant across, her face soft, eyes just a little sad.

"hey, he doesn't deserve you, remember? this was his loss."

at his front door you simply stared for a few moments, unable to lift to your hand and knock. returning the things he'd left at your place made the break up seem much more real, like giving him his hoodies back meant it was a done deal. you were handing over a piece of your heart with the box of his belongings, because no matter what, that would always belong to him too. a dog barked a few houses down and forced you into action, your fist coming down three times on the white door.

there was a few seconds of silence, the click of the lock and then the door swung open, revealing a freshly showered jude. the first glimpse of him in two weeks tugged at your chest, made your tummy dip and it was difficult pushing back the overwhelming urge to press against him. your body told you to kiss him, habits didn't die easily, your mind trying to catch up with the slight difference in his appearance. he'd grown his beard a little longer and his hair hadn't been cut in the time you'd been apart. his bottom lip was cut.

"hi." his voice cracked and he made a face, sent you a half sheepish smile before clearing his throat. "hey."

"i brought your stuff." straight to it. you weren't sure you could stand here and exchange small talk with him without breaking down. there was the smallest bit of comfort in the fact that he looked as bad as you felt. there were dark circles under his eyes, he obviously hadn't been sleeping, and the grey joggers he was wearing had a multitude of different stains down them. something tugged again at your chest and you swallowed thickly, thrust the box not so gracefully towards him. "i think i packed everything, i can- if i forgot anything i'll get katie to drop it off."

like you should have gotten katie to do today because looking at him hurt so much you felt like your heart was breaking all over again. the air around you was tense and awkward, jude kept shuffling from one foot to the other and you couldn't stop your palms from sweating. it was strange how someone who used to make you feel so safe and loved suddenly made you want to disappear inside yourself. jude took the box with careful hands, palms flat against the bottom to avoid brushing your fingers. the second he had hold of it you tucked your hands into the pocket of your hoodie. you didn't want him to see them shaking.

"you didn't have to drop them off, i could've come by." he could have but you knew deep down he wouldn't have. something told you he would've avoided you at all costs until he went back to germany. "but thanks. d'you wanna come in?" your gaze snapped up to his from where you'd previously been focused on his shoulder. "to get your things. i packed them up when you text earlier."

"oh. yeah, sure." you nodded and followed him into the familiar living room, the pain in your chest doubling when the scent of his aftershave washed over you. there was a box of your things on his sofa, your clothes and make up, small things you'd left behind, things you never thought you'd have to take back. placed at the very top of the box was one of jude's england shirts, one of the first ones he'd warn for the senior team, the one you always wore around his house. nausea rolled over you at the fact he was giving you it.

"i don't need that." jude followed your gaze and you watched his throat bob on a swallow as he dropped his own box down beside yours. his fingers brushed the material.

"it's basically yours, it doesn't fit me anymore so i don't need to keep it. i thought you'd want it." you only shook your head, you couldn't wear that shirt knowing that it was connected to a part of your life that didn't exist anymore. jude always made comments about how he liked seeing his girl in his shirt, he'd always pull you close and smother you in kisses and tell you how pretty you looked. you couldn't wear the shirt knowing you weren't his girl anymore, knowing one day someone else would wear that shirt. that he'd find another girl. you tried to talk around the lump that had settled in your throat.

"i don't want it, jude."

"right. no, of course not." again he cleared his throat and you needed to leave, needed air before the tears started and you collapsed in his living room. jude took the shirt and held it between both hands. for a few moments you were both quiet, watching each other, unsure what to say and before you could blurt something you'd regret, you reached for the box.

"i should-"

"i am sorry, y'know. i didn't- i never wanted to hurt you."

"but you did."

"i know and it's killing me. i should've told you how i was feeling instead of letting it drag out and leaving you in the dark. you didn't deserve that." his words were rough and you'd known him long enough to know he was fighting back tears. you also knew if you watched him cry, you'd also cry and you'd promised yourself you wouldn't do that in front of him. you wouldn't let him see you vulnerable like that again.

"no, i didn't."

"baby-" the endearment slipped from his lips from habit and you froze on your turn to the door, stomach dropping and that ache building even more in your chest. jude shook his head a little and rubbed the back of his neck, his bicep straining against the soft cotton of his shirt. "i'm sorry."

"i know you are but that doesn't make me feel any better. i don't- i can't have this conversation again, i can't hear you say you don't love me anymore, jude." pain and regret twisted his features and he shook his head. he made to reach for you but thought better of it, pressed his hands to his sides.

"i didn't stop loving you."

"stop it." your bottom lip wobbled and you had to stare straight at his chest to avoid the look in his eyes. "you can't- i don't want you to lie to me. you broke up with me, you don't do that if you love someone."

"that's not fair."

"life isn't really fair, is it?" without thinking, your fingers raised to tug at the necklace around your throat, a nervous habit you'd picked up years ago. it was only then that you even realised you were still wearing it, the silver "j" suddenly feeling hot and heavy against your skin. "oh, i forgot.."

setting the box down again, you fiddled with the clasp, awkwardly unclipped it before letting the piece of jewellery drop into jude's palm. he stared at it for a few seconds before shaking his head, trying to push it back towards you but you'd already picked the box back up.

"no, this is yours, you don't need to give me it back."

"i'm not gonna keep wearing it, jude. why would i?"

"because-"

"i'm not yours anymore, remember? i'm not gonna wear a necklace that says i am. i don't want it." your tone was harsh, harsher than necessary and it made him flinch, his brows drawing in. "wearing that let me pretend that this wasn't real, that it wasn't actually happening but it is and i can't keep lying to myself. everything reminds me of you and it hurts. i don't want it to keep hurting."

jude dropped his gaze, let his eyes instead focus on your hands. you were both quiet for a few seconds, neither knowing what to say. you'd gotten everything out of your systems the day of the break up, there was nothing else to say other than goodbye. you cleared your throat and nodded a little awkwardly towards the door.

"katie's waiting for me."

for the second time in as many weeks, jude let you walk away without another word.

#hey jude :) #jude bellingham #leigh’s baby blurbs #sinclaiirs baby blurbs #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham blurb

[xxkiller-muffinxx]

A kiss from a rose

John Dory x mute! 1/2

Summary: (takes place after the band split up, and on) John Dory shows up out of nowhere, but with that he brings trouble, the trouble of the mind and the heart.

Words: 1746

Warnings: one moment of violence, no color coding because JD is the only one who talks in this fic

A/N: Goodbye 2023: Hello 2024! First oneshot of the year and seriously so tired after new years. I thank you all for the support on my Floyd oneshot, you guys make writing worth it! Also I imagine you live in a small house, and not a pod. Just cuz I like the idea. (Side A/N: I wrote half of this at 1 am after new years and I have more written it just turned to gibberish after a while and I had to sleep lmao. So stay tuned for a part 2!) I FORGOT TO ADD TAGS 😭😭😭

➷➹➷

The mysterious man showed up out of nowhere, which honestly startled you and your father. He showed up in an armadillo bus that was way out of whack. You were an only child and a quiet one at that. So from a distance, your dad told you to be his danger surveillance.

Upon further examination, you managed to grip your dad's shirt and send him a message that the strange man needed help. With his kindest heart, he goes to lend a hand to him.

You never understood how your father can comprehend what you're saying, you’ve been mute since birth. Nobody knew why, but you just haven’t spoken a word. In fact, your first “word” was you writing on a piece of paper for the first time.

When your dad came back, all he did was make another plate of food and walk out. This time you watched, and paid close attention. Your dad gave the man food and that’s when you realized. He wasn’t a man at all! He seemed to be around your age. It was strangely exciting to see.

You pulled away from the window and sat down to finish your food. You then heard your dad reenter and he mentioned nothing of the exchange, but you didn’t care. It was your dad, he was almost just as quiet as you were.

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Then a year went by, and your dad made sure to take care of you just right. You were a bit older now, and a bit taller. Your little small town was growing smaller with each passing day, and now you knew everything like the back of your hand. However, a certain someone didn’t.

You walk out of your home to begin delivering your dad’s trinkets around town. Use your roller skates to travel from door to door. Handing in tiny things like keychains, dream catchers, or even shoelaces. Your dad was quite the tinker.

Then your heart dropped when you realized you’d have to give food to the armadillo bus inhabitant. So you rolled in front of his bus and pet the lovely creature a few times, before anxiously heading toward the door.

It only took a few knocks when suddenly out popped a guy wearing goggles and a jacket far too thick for the summertime. You handed him his trinket. Which was a keychain with the word “BROZONE” across the small crocheted add-on.

You were about to leave when his voice cut through the silence. “Woah! This looks even cooler than I thought it would! Thanks!” He grins at you, expecting a response, but when silence follows he pushes his goggles onto his head. “Uh…did I come across too strong there? Or are you stunned into silence because you’re looking at a former member of Brozone?”

Your social ticking time bomb was ticking, it was a common small-town rule to not talk to you because you’d start crying or something, but this is new. This is just discomfort. His words turned to mumbles as you began to go on autopilot.

Suddenly a hand touches your shoulders. A billion thoughts run through your head, you look up at him and see his face coming closer. Instincts kick in and you wind up punching him in the face. Straight knock out right hook into the nose.

The crack made you snap back into reality. He’s on the ground, groaning in pain. you don’t like consequences. So instantaneously, who does? So You run off. Your feet pitter-patter in the ground below, scared of what your father would do if you found out.

You hide away after that moment, your dad did find out, but geez did he find it funny. That was the first time you’d heard him laugh in ages. So he put the shop on hold and decided to teach you how to make trinkets instead. So that event never happens again.

⏠⏡⏠⏡⏠⏡⏠⏡⏠

You were in your mid-20s when you started delivering again. However, you made an effort to avoid the armadillo bus with all your being. However, you caught glimpses of Bus-man looking out at you while you worked. Your nerves nearly get the best of you every time you catch it.

When the end of the day came around the corner you made it home and sat on your porch swing. You swung until the sun went down, but in the meantime, you were looking ahead, then caught sight of the man lazily sitting outside too. But when he caught sight of you he suddenly puffed out his chest and grinned. Wiggling his eyebrows.

You shot him a weird look and looked away. What was that? Was he…flirting with you? You punched him in the face! Why was he flirting? After about an hour you felt something hit your shoulder. When you looked, it was a crude paper ball, you opened it. It said: “My name is JD, John, the leader, John Dory, what's yours?”

You laughed when you saw the crossed-off names, you pulled a pencil out of your hair and wrote your name on the paper. You looked up and looked around. Eyes closed in on him as he tried to act natural. You smirked and threw it back at him, hitting him in the head. You gasped and looked away. Your cheeks become red like fire.

The game of toss continued. You and him having a nice conversation about flowers. Which led to him calling you Buttercup. You didn't know why this made you blush, but a nickname was new for you.

Eventually, you told him goodnight and waved to him. He waved too, but you could've sword-he punched the air in excitement before going inside.

It became routine. Every night you two would be outside neighbors, talking to one another on paper. You’d share one fact about yourself, and he'd share several. He was far more open than you were, and he was fine with it.

Until one night it came to the subject of verbal communication.

You explained to him your situation and he started asking so many questions. It made you sort of uncomfortable. Then in a shocking turn of events, he changed the subject to something debatably worse.

“Why did you punch me?”

Your eyes widened and you turned red again. You heard his loud boisterous laughter at your reaction and you felt a knot tie in your stomach. Your heart fluttered and all your hairs stood on end. What was going on?

He then yells out to you, as his first time communicating verbally. “It's alright buttercup! I forgive you!” His grin was infectious, leaving you wanting to see it more often.

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When you started visiting his bus, the two of you became inseparable. Seeing as you were nonverbal you'd usually listen to him spout pure nonsense half the time. Sometimes he'd just break out into song.

Your favorite nights are when he'd break into song and ask you to dance with him. You'd always decline. Which always disappointed him but he was just fine dancing all by his lonesome.

“Baby! I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the grey!” he'd fall to his knees and outstretched his arms to you “come on! Ooh, the more I get of you, the stranger it feels, yeah!” he’d continue singing even as you shook your head.

When he kept dancing, on rare occasions you giggled, very quietly. He'd catch it and make a big deal out of it, causing you to blush and quietly giggle yourself into oblivion.

He'd leave you alone for a while, eventually getting back to telling stories. You explored the but a little while he spoke, he watched you, explaining some messes and creating excuses for others. That is until you stopped in a corner, picking up a vinyl. John shot up. Stumbling over to you.

“That uh. That's-” you looked at him and raised an eyebrow. Which may have been the first time he understood what you were saying without you writing on a piece of paper.

He sighed heavily and slumped onto the couch “it’s a pretty boring story.” he huffed out a laugh, crossing his arms as he leaned into the corner of his couch. “You wouldn't like it.”

You frowned, carrying the vinyl over to him. You sat down beside him and looked him in the eyes. Silently asking him to go on, when your hand landed on his knee. He looked at your hand then at you. “Well buckle up because this is gonna be a long one.”

He tells you everything, you don't flinch, make a face, nor do you judge. His story is depressing. He seems so angry and frustrated about it. Something about the way he talks about his brothers made you want to hug him and comfort him with every bone in your body.

His anger rises as he reaches the end. His nose flaring and his eyes widened. “I just wanted us to be great! To be the best boyband there ever was but no! They kept complaining and-” he was cut off by the look you were giving him. His breath hitched at the sight of your eyes so sincere and caring, it was different for him.

He tore his eyes away and crossed his arms. “I just wish. I just wish we were still brothers.” you gripped his hand squeezing it tight and he seemed to get the message. “I know I know. They're my brothers whether they like it or not.”

You nodded, running your fingers through his tall hair then looking him in the eye. There was a moment of clarity there. Your cheeks turned 6 shades of red, when his eyes snapped lower on your face. You stood up and took a deep breath. You awkwardly pointed at the door. A shy smile on your face as you gravitated to the bus door.

You felt bad at the look of disappointment he had, but also you were still friends at this point. You couldn't ruin that. Not because you would hate being with him, but it's too good to lose. His expression changed back to his regular one and he stood up to help you out.

“After you M’lady Buttercup,”

You rolled your eyes, but stopped for a minute to look at him, thinking about what you should do. In your fear and anxiety. You waved him goodbye. Leaving him wanting much more from you.

⏠⏡⏠⏡⏠⏡⏠⏡⏠

To be continued…

Next

#fanfiction #trolls #trolls band together #trolls fandom #trolls fanfic #trolls fanfiction #trolls franchise #trolls x reader #dreamworks trolls #john dory #john dory x reader #trolls 3 #trolls john dory #john dory trolls #brozone x reader #brozone

[xxzlushiez]

Make some noise

B. Kaulitz x M! Reader

Synopsis: Your band is the opening act for Tokio Hotel’s concert and Bill falls in love with your voice.. and other things abt you (Not proofread yet😓)

Notes: 18+, Name is a singer, bill crushing hard, making out, subtle touches, dirty thoughts, boners??, oral, Name wears makeup (not specified what kind), Name’s sexuality isn’t labeled, dacryphilia

A/N: I came to the realization that I haven’t wrote M! Reader so I decided to🤭GONNA WRITE OTHER ONES SOOONN BUT NEED IDEAS. I hate this one so much I feel like it’s rushed

“I never knew somebody like you, somebody, Falling just as hard, I’d rather lose somebody than use somebody.”

- When he found out an American band was the opening for their concert he was a little confused

- But either way, German or American he was excited to see them preform

- Apparently the band was popular in multiple countries and was on tour in Germany and he got just a little intimidated

- But tried to think of it as more people to be acquainted with

- Talked to staff about the band to learn more

- When the bus had arrived he was the first out to go greet them with the rest of the band

- There was 3 other members that came out before he saw you

- You looked drop dead gorgeous

- Like you had just come out of a modeling gig

- Wanted to greet you guys but got to nervous so he left to go do his makeup and decided to introduce himself later

- You thought it was a little weird that everyone else but the lead singer was there to greet you but brushed it off as him being busy

- You and your band began setting up your equipment on stage while conversing with the other 3 from from the band

- You watched everyone do their thing for the most part but got pretty close with the bass player of their band

- He told you about the lead singer and you learned he was just nervous about the show so wasn’t able to come out (lieeesss)

- You made a plan to wish him luck after the opening

- when it was time to start the show the venue was filled to the brim with people (is that a safety hazard?? Who cares)

- Bill had retouched his makeup dozens of times and and stalled for so long that Tom had to come and drag him out so he could watch the opening with the rest

- found out that the reason your band became so popular was because of your almost sexual way of singing (ehehehehe😈)

- was a litttttle confused about what “sexual” meant but very quickly understood the once you started

- You voice was soft and almost whiny? like you were begging, pleading for something

- from the way you moved to how you caught the audiences attention it was all just so…uhhh pornographic in a way??

- an eye opening experience fs😭

- Georg told him that was the whole point

- one time you had made your way across the stage near the group and looked at him and smiled before continuing to indulge in the crowd

- noticed how hot his body was and the buzzing feeling yk…(do I have to spell it out?)

- one moment between songs you pulled at your shirt to wipe the sweat off your forehead and he came to the realization of something

- He had a crush on you or was at least severely attracted to you (whatt I never should’ve guessed😐)

- By the time the opener came to a close he realized he hadn’t taken his eyes away from you once

- when making your way to your designated room you nodded at him and gave him a light squeeze on the arm before wishing him the best

- Maybe he was overthinking…

- But it seemed like you were flirting with him the way touched him and how close you got

- it was like you had already figured out what you did to him

- forgot a little about it while preforming but yk…it’s hard to forgot someone like you

- so naturally his was filled with pictures of you that were not so innocent

- Glanced backstage during a song and noticed you were watching

-saw you were only watching him and was screaming (mentally bro…this isn’t Schrei )

- When the concert ended the group was full of adrenaline and excitement from preforming

- One of your members suggested his band join your’s for drinks at a near by club

- Ofc he agreed alongside everyone else and made their way to your band’s car

- When he opened the car door he stopped so quick you were the first thing he saw

- Sprawled across the few seats in the back row, hand up your shirt, eyes closed probably cooling off from the summer heat

- Of course you were gonna be with the group and he was gonna have to see you laying out before him like you were

- that was supposed to happen later you silly🙄

- You apologized and sat up to accommodate for the extra people

- finally grew a pair and introduced himself to you

- staring at your legs because they kept touching his when you readjusted yourself

- lightly shifting your hips to get comfortable

- Bill is a starin hard asl trust me (in a trance)🙏

- noticed you didn’t talk as much as he thought you would’ve

- Only when talked to directly did you look up from the phone in your lap

- When you did it was with Georg which made him a little jelly bc he wanted to talk with you too

- frustrated bc of how silent you were (like how can someone with such a voice be so quiet)

- didn’t have the confidence to talk to you w/o being sure he wouldn’t bend you over right then and there

- When you did talk he was all ears staring at you

- heart eyes when you brought up how he “did so well” on his performance

- innocently placing your hand on his knee when leaning forward to talk with the bassist

- Fought the knee jerk reactions it gave him when you did

- Took the time when you were quietly scrolling on your phone to admire you

- Staring at all the details of your face and taking a mental picture (for laterrrr)

- Noticed all the small things most wouldn’t like how your makeup accentuated your features

- wanted to just reach out and trace your face with his finger

- counts your beauty marks and freckles if you have any

- Saw the way you fidgeted w/ your lip piercings when listening to the person talking to you

- He wanted to fidget with your piercings to :((

- When they arrived everyone made their way to security to get in

- while getting out you leaned in to whisper to him

- “You should probably fix the boner you have before coming in.”

- Before hopping out of the car and making your way in with the rest of the group

- Mortified was the only way to describe how he was feeling😰

- so embarrassed that he just stayed in the car for like 20 minutes (contemplated stealing the car and driving to the hotel)

- eventually just made his way inside because if he couldn’t get over the humiliation sober he definitely could drunk

- After he ordered a drink he observed the club, the fluorescent lights and loud music helped him forget about what happened

- untillll he saw you and Tom chatting up some girls surrounding you both on a couch near the VIP rooms

- He expected it from Tom but he definitely didn’t from you

- noticed pretty quickly that he was watching and sent him a almost unnoticeable smile before turning back to the girl laid out on your lap laughing at something she said which was most definitely some corny joke that wasn’t even funny (can you tell he’s jealous?)

- saw the way the girl played with your hair and fidgeted around with your hands

- face flushing he quickly downed the drink the bartender dropped off

- Couldn’t tell if he was confused or turned on by how you were acting with him and how undeniably attractive you looked doing it

- Pushed his way through the crowd into a empty bathroom

- After staring at himself deciding if he should just leave for a few minutes someone knocks and opens the door

- Surprise surprise! It’s you ofc who else?🙄

- “what’re you doing in here?”

- “Came in to see if you got rid of your problem yet”

- Jaw DROPPED

- but he hadn’t…sooo

- you stared at him through those heavy lashes like you expected him to give into you or something

- he did (duh)

- pretty aggressive kissing

- like shoving each other against the wall and everything leaving you gasping into him and him laughing against you type of kissing

- Plays w/ your piercings nonstop

- “What about those girls you left huh? What about them?”

- Shaking your head you laugh at him and he feels his face get warmer

- “Is the little rockstar jealous? Don’t worry they weren’t really my type but I can ask them to join if you want?”

- got that familiar knot in his stomach just hearing about someone else In the position he was in

- “no..only you, jus’ want you”

- Pulls and tugs at you shirt until you get the hint and finally take it off to his pleasure

- presses the softest of kisses against your stomach when making his way down

- teases you abt how much noise you make when he knows he’s stroking you so well knowing your finally getting what you both want

- palms the head when you try and push your hips toward him

- uses his tongue piercing to his advantage

- Found out he got aroused when he saw you tear up while fucking into his hand😦(whattt no way)

- Holds your hands above your head when you try to cover your mouth

- “I wanna hear that pretty voice of yours let me hear every sound you make”

- Was going mental listening to you

- “ your moans drive me so crazy….ah! please don’t stop!!”

- “wanna see what you do to me?”

- “Am I making you feel good? Please…please Name say I am”

- likes to be praised and told he’s doing a good job

- so harsh w his thrusts bc he wants you tell him he’s doing well

- Eye contact through the mirror AHHHHHH

- Pushes down on your neck to make your back arch up into him

- mini photo shoot of you both while he’s balls deep inside you he’s just like “cheese!”

- overstimulation😵‍💫a little self indulgent

- bro’s whiny himself and you are both just so LOUD but tried to cover his up so he can hear yours

- was a eeny weeny bit mean honestly🤭

- wants to be the only one to hear the sounds you make

- made you look at how good he’s plowing in and out of you

- pulled completely out to see the sexed out expression you make just to shove all of him in again to see your eyes roll back and hear you cry his name in complete bliss

- having sex w him was so so chaotic

- so many positions (like…so many)

- risking getting caught by doing it in a public bathroom

- when you licked down to the base of his cock he almost passed out

- like pushed you off covering his mouth panting bc typa pass out💀

- 100% a switch bc he just likes you to use him sometimes🤭

- more of a giver than a receiver but doesn’t turn you down if you want to just pleasure him for a while

#tumblr #x reader #georg #gustav #tom #bill kaulitz #kaulitz twins #tokio hotel #bill #tokio hotel x reader #bill x reader #bill Kaulitz x reader #m! reader #writing #romance #singers #music #505 #the neighborhood #bill kaulitz smut #Kaulitz x reader

[sierrrraaawwwwwcgtcvh]

hiii sierra! i hope you’re having a lovely day! i’d like to request a rosie x reader where the reader is a rockstar from the 80s, and she really loves making music. rosie is more familiar with the inventions from 1920s so she’s a little confused when her s/o comes to her saying that she wrote a song for her on her electric guitar. maybe the reader explains to her what exactly it is and it’s just a really cute scenario with rosie being curious about what her s/o likes! thank you in advance if you decide to use this!

- 𝐡𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐠 ❦

WOAHA I LOVE YOUR STUFF SM. I LOVE THIS AND HELLO I HOPE YOU ARE HAVING A LOVELY DAY AS WELL :D

(P.S. : I only play an acoustic guitar at the moment and I don't play an electric guitar so I apologize if the way I wrote for it isn't correct!)

—

You sat in your and Rosie's shared room as you used your guitar pick to play a song you recently wrote for your partner. You moved your fingers rather fast as you practiced the song. 

When playing the song, you carefully used your fingers and moved the strings up or down when necessary. The sound of the electric guitar resonating throughout the room as you finished up the song.

You were very happy with the way the song turned out. You couldn't wait to tell Rosie about it!

You smiled as you carefully, set the electric guitar on the ground. You put the guitar pick down next to it as you got up and hummed a tune. You almost forgot to unplug the electric guitar.

You and Rosie had a little apartment next to her shop. You were genuinely surprised she didn't just have it over her shop, you thought it would've made things easier.

Rosie told you that it was better this way because anyone could basically go waltzing up and into the home. You then understood why she didn't have the apartment over the shop. 

You locked the door as you left the home and headed out to her shop. It was just a couple minutes away as you walked along the sidewalk.

You hummed the song you made for Rosie as you entered her shop. You saw Rosie talking to a client as the client nodded and walked away to a different area of the shop. As you walked in, the bell above the door alerted Rosie of your presence as she quickly locked eyes with you.

"(Y/n)? (Y/n)!" Your partner called for you with a huge smile spread across her face. "I missed you so much!" She rushed over to you as she embraced you into a hug, squeezing you tight. 

"I missed you too Rosie!" You hugged her back as she pressed kisses against the top of your head and forehead. 

"Oh, what're you doing here? I thought you were busy! Not that I mind the surprise though." She smiled as she let go of the embrace.

"I came to visit you!" You smiled. "I wrote a song for you on my electric guitar!" 

Rosie tilted her head with a confused look on her face. "Electric guitar..?" She questioned as you quickly realized she most likely didn't realize what you meant. You forgot she was from the 1920s while you were from the 80s. Very big time difference for instruments. You thought to yourself.

"Right! An electric guitar is an instrument. It's kinda like a regular guitar but uh.. dang, how do I explain it..? Oh!" 

You quickly explained the difference between an electric guitar and a regular guitar. Rosie would nod here and there while you explained the difference.

"That's rather charming! I can't wait to hear it, even if I am a little confused on the matter." She chuckled.

"Hopefully it'll make more sense once you actually see the instrument." 

"I'm sure it will, darling." She reassured you as you smiled.

"I hope you like the song! I worked really hard on it. But, if you don't like it that's okay too."

"I'll love it my dear! I'm sure I will." She smiled.

"What time are you gonna close up shop today?" You asked as Rosie hummed while thinking it over.

Rosie didn't usually stick to a schedule for opening and closing her shop. It entirely depends on her mood.

"Maybe in an hour or two. Can't leave my clients without relationship advice!" She nudged you with her elbow as you giggled.

"Do you need help with anything while I'm here?" You asked.

"Hmm.. no, I don't think so. But! You can tell me all about this electric guitar of yours and the things you play." She smiled as she leaned down and kissed your cheek.

"Okay!" You eagerly replied as the two of you then sat at a table.

—

This is my first time writing for Rosie so I apologize if she seems out of character! I might make a part two bc this was sm fun to write.

Word count: 659?

#rosie x reader #hazbin rosie #hazbin hotel rosie #rosie x reader hazbin #Hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader

[lovelettersforthedamned]

tasm!peter finds your love letter to him that you never gave him because you are too embarrassed to show him

Big Words On A Little Page

--genre: FLUFF, SO MUCH FLUFF.

--pairing: tasm!peter parker x gn!reader

--word count: 0.7k

--warnings: some smooching, fluff, a little bit of anxiety coming from the reader, if you don't like a healthy loving relationship then you'll hate this.

i love this, wait...

--gif credits: @ddlovatosrps

Love came easy for you, but expressing it took time. Peter knew that putting your feelings into words wasn’t straightforward, and he knew that it would take time for you to be completely comfortable with him. So for you, he waited. 

If you asked Peter, he would have no complaints. Peter knew you loved him with every bone in your body, so why do you still feel like you’re not putting in your part? 

Sure, you couldn’t verbally express your feelings for him, but you can write them down. 

While Peter was out protecting the city, you pulled out a piece of lined paper and a red. Once you sat there and started writing, it was hard to stop. You ended up writing two full pages, the words on the paper full of adoration and love for your beloved boyfriend. You didn’t even read what you wrote, you folded the paper and set it in your bedside table’s drawer, hidden and safe. 

Once you put the letters in the drawer, you forgot about them. Life got busy, and two pieces of paper were the last thing on your mind. “Pete? Can you get my chapstick, the peppermint one,” you yell out from the couch, the book in your hand too riveting for you to get up. 

Peter walks past you and heads towards your shared bedroom, and after rummaging through some drawers, he finds himself stumped on where it was, “I can’t find it, bug!”

Without a second thought, you yell back, “It’s in my bedside drawer!”

Pulling open the drawer, Peter finally lays his eyes on the god-forsaken peppermint chapstick he’s been searching for, along with a folded piece of paper with red ink bleeding through its fibers. This seems to catch his eye, especially the top of it, reading ‘Dear Peter,’. A part of him felt guilty as he grabbed it and opened it up, but it was addressed to him, right? 

His eyes scanned through your writing, his eyes welling up with tears the farther he read. He couldn’t deny that a big stupid smile was spread across his face, and a warm blush fluttered onto his cheeks. 

Finishing the letter, he’s speechless, and he couldn’t be more overwhelmed with love. Walking back out to you in the living room, he finds you still nose-deep in your book, still unaware of his presence. Moving to stand directly next to you, you finally see him in the corner of your eye, “Thank you so much babe, you will not believe what happened in this book–.” As you give him your full attention, your eyes dart between his face and the papers in his hand. “Peter, I was going to give you those I promise–,” your sentence was cut short by his lips meeting yours. The warmth of his cheeks radiated onto yours, inviting you to stay here a while. 

Eventually, you both have run out of breath prompting you to pull away, breathless. Peter holds your face in his hands and looks directly into your eyes, the honey brown of his irises putting you in a trance. Although there was silence, you could tell that Peter had something on his mind, giving him time to speak. Reaching up to hold the back of one of his hands, you rub your thumb against the skin there. 

“I love you so much, (Y/N). I’m sorry I read this without asking first, but fuck, I’m so glad I did,” his eyes still not breaking contact with yours. 

All you could do was smile, you were afraid that tears would fall if you spoke. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and Peter could feel it, “You’re stuck with me for as long as you’ll have me, and if this is the last time I receive a love letter from you, I’d die a happy man. As long as you’re here with me, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be, bug.”

A sudden urge of desperation for his touch overwhelmed your senses. Dropping your book, you wrap both of your arms around his neck and pull him onto the couch, nestling your face into the nape of his neck. You two stay there for a while, the sunlight slowly receding as you squeeze Peter a little tighter, grateful for a man who loves you with everything he has. Even if you can’t verbally show it. 

--author's note: HELLOOOO!! sorry guys for the inactivity recently, i was so dead sick two days before christmas, and then christmas happened, and now im back. to those who celebrate, i hope you all had a merry christmas!! nonnie, thank you so much for the ask!! THIS IS A REMINDER THAT YOU CAN STILL SEND IN REGULAR ASKS BAES!!! don't forget to like, comment, and reblog to support this blog. ok, ily bye<3333

#peter parker x reader #andrew garfield peter parker #fluff #marvel #peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #spiderman