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fmhobeus · 1 month

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so, nerdy loser college boy choso *sighs* *opens legs*

a/n: just so you know, this man is gonna make you do all the hard work for a piece of that loser boy dick 😮‍💨 so... um so at some point around 2000 words in i realised this is way more than a hc post :3 eat it up if you will!

nerdy!choso who borderline has no friends except his gaming buddies who doesnt meet irl like ever. he doesnt like going to classes, especially this one. he doesnt need it but it's a requirement for all first years. and boy is glad it is when he sees you come in.

nerdy!choso who only listens to discussions when you're talking. suddenly he needs to put down his headphones and nod at every word you're saying. his eyes follow every gesture of your hand, every sway of your ass, every single time you fix your hair.

nerdy!choso who is starting to get a bit enamored with you, your style, your way of speaking. he loses track of time gawking at you in class from the last benches as you prettily do all the work in the class. he hates how beautifully your hair falls on your face, how nicely your clothes fit you despite being pretty modest for college. he hates how he can see the silhouette of your tits when you turn to the side. but he's too much of a gentleman to keep looking.

nerdy!choso who ends a game early when he remembers you, lying and saying that he had promised someone to meet them somewhere. the place is his bathroom and the person was you. god, you really shouldn't wear those tight jeans to class y'know? how will he continue to be a gentleman if you do?

nerdy!choso who despises groupwork but prays to dear god this class has some reason to pair you two together. he's getting so desperate to talk to you knowing damn well he too pussy to do it on his own. and the lord answers his prayers, the teacher assigns groups of three for a presentation. it's you, him and some slacking trust fund baby.

nerdy!choso who is about to combust and have a full blown panic attack when he sees you approach him after class with that smile on your face that would make the angels swoon. you're going on about distributing the work equally and what not while he is trying his fucking hardest to not accidently make eye contact with you and piss his pants : (

nerdy!choso who now has your name, your number and your email and he feels like the happiest man on earth. his hands are literally shaking as he responds to your request to call. he's overthinking every word he types.

choso: yeah i can do wednesday. choso: i'll be okay with whatever day you want.

nerdy!choso who hops on video call and short circuits with a view of you in an oversized band tee and a brief view of your room. why did you have to be this pretty? why did you have to video call him when you couldve done the work on text? why did you have to put your hair up like that? why oh why did you have you say "choso? hey, you there?" so seductively to bring him back to the present?

nerdy!choso who gets like no work done in a 30 minute call which felt like three hours. he knew he would hardly be paying attention so decided to record the call with your consent, saying he'd need the notes you were typing out on screen only to play it back and stroke his dick to you for what might've have been the twentieth time this week. his strokes only getting faster as you say his name in that voice he imagines sounds way better moaning and screaming it instead.

nerdy!choso who, after the presentation, is on greeting terms with you when he sees you studying in the library. he sits as far away from you as he can while still being able to see you. occupying the coziest corner of the library to stare at you study right when you come up to him.

"can i join you, choso? i'm all alone and your space seems comfy" you say with a smile, "of course, i dont mean to disturb you, is saw you were on your own too, so..."

uh oh, uh oh, uh oh. god no. please no. please dont say yes. please dont be staring at her like some dumb idiot (too late) please.

"uh... yeah sure why not?" he awkwardly says as he makes room for you to keep your things. he was such an idiot for thinking he could say no to your pretty face in the first place.

nerdy!choso who is absolutely drunk on your scent. it feels way better than any alcohol he's ever had. he feels like an animal in heat when he smells your sugary perfume mixed with the styrofoam-y air conditioned smell of the library. you're gonna kill him, yknow? how is he supposed to respond to this? what is one to do when their stupid college crush sits next to them? he gives you a half smile before furiously typing away on reddit, the only place with answers for losers like him.

nerdy!choso whose hands. oh his hands. (can be i a big whore for a second?) his long hands that feel like they're the size of your face. his kempt, beautiful and trimmed nails. his lengthy fingers that seem to yearn for something more to foddle with than just the keyboard or controller. he typed as such an insane pace it made your pussy ache. he was going so fast, jesus. those hands were meant to do more than just ask "how to talk to girls" on reddit.

nerdy!choso who (on the advice of reddit) asks if you would want him to order something for you. you tell you had a frappuccino not too long ago and that it was quite sweet and filling. and he hates himself for thinking that he could give you something much sweeter and filling than that like a horny fourteen year old.

nerdy!choso who is now determined to not come off as a creep so he does his work with the focus of four adderalls. he is typing as fast as his heartbeat, not realising he got two classes worth of work done in just an hour. he looks over at you, blissfully unaware of the absolute war in his mind.

nerdy!choso who feels as though if he doesn't muster up the courage to ask you out right then and there, he'll probably be the biggest loser on the planet. (as if he wasn't already)

nerdy! pathetic! choso who stutters a million times and barely gets the job done then too. his eyes are scanning your entire being (trying his best to not gawk at your tits) for any sign of discomfort.

"so- uhh so ummm... wo-would you, like, uh... like to do this again? sometime?... i got a.. a lot of work done today, so.."

oh heavens, the sheer nervousness in his tone makes you want to pull his pants down and show him how to really get work done.

you agree with a smile, even suggesting a better, more ambient (more romantic) cafe to study in. choso's heart is about to burst and flood the fucking library with his blood the way it is beating at an alarming rate.

"umm yeah uh 5 sounds... awesome... i hope it isn't a-a bother to you?" "no way, choso. i loved today," you offer him a smile as you gather your things, "i really like your hair, by the way" "i like your hair too, y-y-you smell very nice", he gulps.

fuck. why did he say that? what? you smell nice? who says that? is he like ten? you can't help but giggle at the sheer embarassment on his face.

he feels as though he's gonna melt into a puddle and turn to stone and throw up all at the same time.

nerdy!choso who is the most stupidly hot guy you've ever met, you think as you go giggling back to your dorm. mental note: pick a skimpy outfit for 5pm ;)

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evergone · 6 months

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Hey!! Idk know if you are taking requests right now but can you write a Theo x Hufflepuff reader imagine where the reader is always telling him to make friends from other houses. He finally does make friends but with a beautiful Ravenclaw and starts spending more time with her. The reader starts feeling insecure and ignores Theo. He soon realises that she is ignoring him and talks to her.

Btw I love your writing and can you please tag me if you do write it?

Too Friendly

Theodore Nott x reader

Warnings: Swearing, allusions to sex but no sex.

Description: The reader wants Theo to make more friends but when he does, she becomes insecure about their bond.

Sorry this took so long to get out, I'm in the middle of my final exams of high school so I don't have much time. I enjoyed writing this one. Thanks for the request @orphicmortala

“It’s sad, Theo, you’ve got, like, no friends!” You said as you tried your best to remember how to tie your yellow tie.

“What do you call Malfoy, then?” Theo asked from the bed.

“An accomplice,” you replied with that unique snark that Theo loved about you, “You need friends from other houses— Friends that aren’t just me.” You added those final words hastily before he could open his mouth in protest.

Theo rolled his eyes and beckoned you over. His hands glided over the folds of your tie with expertise, undoing the mess of a knot you’d created in order to do it up properly and perfectly. When he was done, he looked up at you with his gorgeous, oceanic eyes and the corners of his mouth where both his beautiful lips connected turned upwards. You uttered your thanks quietly as you resisted the primal urge to just not go to class at all and instead spend the whole day with him. Your mind wandered off to imagine being stuck between Theo’s checkered emerald sheets, but you brought it back to reality.

Fending off your lustful desires as well as a nun would, you bid adieu to Theo and hurried out of his room and the Slytherin common room. On your way out, you dodged the teasingly crude jokes and names that Theo’s friends tossed towards you and told Pansy that she was no better than yourself (you’d seen the way she snuck out of that empty classroom after Draco a couple days earlier, her hair and clothes all dishevelled and her thighs rubbing together uncomfortably).

The whole day, Theo dwelled on your words. While you weren’t exactly dating or in a relationship, he always found himself bound to your every word and every whim. You seemed to dictate his life in a way that you certainly shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help but listen to you. So, in Arithmancy, he didn’t sit next to Blaise as he usually did, instead electing to sit with Lisa Turpin, a Ravenclaw girl he’d seen you talk to a few times.

She looked at him in confusion, “Did you need something?”

He withheld the instinct to say some snide remark and instead replied, “I thought I’d make a new friend today.”

“On some random Tuesday… in our Sixth year?” Her face contorted to expose her obvious disgust.

“Merlin’s cock and balls, I’m trying to be nice, Turpin!” Theo frowned and picked up his bag to go sit elsewhere.

Turpin grabbed his wrist as he stood up and her lips made a thin line as she pulled him back down to the seat. Her brows knitted together like a homemade sweater and she breathed out a sigh of defeat.

“No, it’s okay, sorry,” she said, “Sit here if you’d like.”

Over the next week, Theo made some serious efforts to get to know Turpin despite his friends’ obvious, loud verbal opposition. After that first Arithmancy class, Blaise had practically torn him to shreds with his massive speech on house loyalty and the horrible impact that you were clearly having on him. Daphne had recited the same speech her mother had given to her on her first day of her first year at school about how interrelations with students from the lesser houses was a gateway drug to blood sympathy (she’d given him the same speech when he started his little thing with you). And Pansy, Merlin’s beard, Pansy was furious.

Pansy had constructed this whole idea in her mind that you hated that Theo was talking to Turpin. She called it “cheating” which Theo had adamantly disagreed with. He wasn’t having sex with Turpin, in fact, he had absolutely zero romantic interest in her. He barely even liked her. The only thing the two had in common was Arithmancy and every time they hung out they talked about it until there was no more Arithmancy to talk about. It was, quite frankly, boring. Turpin was boring.

“It’s emotional cheating,” said Pansy in a huff as she and the others started towards the Great Hall for Monday breakfast.

“Emotional cheating?” Theo asked skeptically.

“Yes, Nott, emotional cheating,” she nodded, “And it’s hurting Y/n’s feelings. That’s why she hasn’t spoken to you all week.”

His gaze snapped to focus on Pansy whose black eyes were ablaze with the feminine rage of a girl’s best friend, “How do you know she hasn’t spoken to me all week?”

Pansy smirked, her honey red lipstick bright against her pale skin, and shrugged. She knew you hadn’t spoken to him all week because you wouldn’t shut up about it. In Divination on Wednesday afternoon, you’d all but assaulted Pansy with questions about Theo’s newfound interest in Turpin. All of which Pansy had no helpful responses to.

“Is he flirting with her?” You asked.

“Maybe, I don’t know, it’s not like they sit with us,” said Pansy, struggling to focus on the crystal ball with all your chatter.

“Why not? Why don’t they sit with you? Are they trying to be private?” You pushed almost frantically.

“Uh, possibly? Honestly, I just think he knows we don’t like her,” she explained.

“Why don’t you like her? Is she a bitch?” You frowned and then quickly added in a judgmental tone, “Or are you just being blood supremacists?”

“Is she a mudblood?” Pansy stopped working to stare at you.

You smacked her hand and she hissed, “I don’t know her that well. Don’t say that.”

When Theo and his friends finally arrived at the Great Hall, he searched the tables for your face. While most people usually stuck to their house’s table, you were a social butterfly and loved to flutter from table-to-table to talk to all of your many friends. Sometimes he wondered how you weren’t a prefect despite your popularity and the respect the younger years gave you. His eyes found Turpin first and she beamed and waved him over, but he blatantly ignored her. Pansy and Daphne watched on with delight as the girl cringed with embarrassment and turned back to her meal with bright red ears.

A spot of h/c hair floated above a robe lined with yellow and he abandoned his friends to go to you. You were standing at the end of the Hufflepuff table (not an unusual place to find you, but your favourite table was always the Slytherin one), and you were utterly consumed by a tale you were sewing for your housemates Hannah Abbott and Justin Finch-Fletchley.

“Y/n,” Theo spoke and his deep, smokey voice tore you straight out of your conversation, “Can we talk?”

Your eyebrows quivered and your blinking sped up as you took his appearance in for the first time all week. You hadn’t gone so long without speaking to him in at least three years (you got into an argument in your third year about the petrifications) and hearing his voice and seeing him so close was like throwing a former alcoholic into a sea of wine. There was nothing you wanted more than to indulge in him. But Hannah and Justin were glaring at him like hawks, or guard dogs, whichever was more intimidating.

“Um,” you glanced back at your friends and Hannah shook her head slightly, she’d never much liked Theo, “Sure.”

Hannah rolled her eyes and whispered something barely audible to Justin. Something about a “love-fucked pushover.” You ignored her. Theo took you to a pair of seats far from any prying ears and held your hands in his.

“You know I don’t like Turpin, right?” He said quietly.

You scoffed, “Yeah, right. And that’s why you spent all week with her.”

“I spent all week with her because you told me to!” He laughed with salt that spread itself over your wounded heart.

“Did I just? Because I really don’t remember saying ‘Hey, Theo, you know how I like you so much? I actually want you to go talk to another girl,’” you said sarcastically.

He held back a grin as best he could but the amusement glistened in his eyes and on his rosy, mole-spotted cheeks. His hand came up to your brow and massaged the frown out from between your eyebrows as you fluttered your eyelashes at him in the way you knew made him melt inside.

“I wanted to make friends for you,” he told you with that soft, romantic tone he used in bed.

“Don’t,” you ordered, “You’re Theodore Nott, you aren’t supposed to be friendly.”

For the first time in a week, he got a good look at you. He hadn’t realised how much he missed the sight of your h/l h/c hair and the way it framed your stunning face so perfectly that you appeared to have stepped right out of a portrait. He hadn’t realised how much he missed how your eyes, an elegant e/c and perpetually glossy as if always on the verge of tears, examined every centimetre of his face. He hadn’t realised how much he missed doing your tie up for you until he saw it tied like a bow around your neck.

“I’m friendly to you,” he said as his hands pulled at the end of the tie and it fell apart over your chest.

“And that’s all you need, I think,” you whispered pleasantly and pressed a loving kiss to his lips as he looped the tie around itself twice and pushed the end through the gap, tying it perfectly.

#theo nott #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #theodore nott x reader #hp fandom #theo nott x y/n #slytherin x reader #draco malfoy x reader #harry potter x reader #theo nott imagine #theodore nott imagine #theo nott fanfic #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott x y/n #mattheo riddle x reader #regulus black x reader #tom riddle x reader

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starboyshoyo · 1 year

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Tropes-To-Lovers

Characters: All NRC boys x fem!reader (seperately)

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Genre: fluff

What were you to the NRC boys, before you were lovers?

Includes: Childhood friends to lovers, best friends to lovers, strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers, exes to lovers.

Childhood Friends to Lovers

Trey Clover the boy next door

Everyone and their mother knows Trey Clover, the golden boy in your little provincial town. Sweet, intelligent, and he can bake? He’s a heartthrob in every definition of the word. But Trey’s only ever had eyes for you, his parents’ best friends’ daughter and the girl next door.

Joined at the hip from the moment you met, you’ve done it all together- but Trey’s been away at NRC for three years. You were sure he would move to the city after getting a taste of the wider world. So you’re caught off-guard when he returns to take over his family’s bakery, eight inches taller than you remember.

His eyes crinkle at the corners when he sees you, and you can feel the firmness of muscles under his shirt when you launch yourself at him, embracing him tightly. He has to bend down to hug you now, you realize. And his face is sharper now, jaw angular instead of the soft cheeks you were used to. When did that happen?

And when did he get so handsome?

Leona Kingscholar betrothed to his brother

Leona has only ever had one friend- you, the heir from the neighboring kingdom. It shouldn’t be a problem to love you the way he does, but the stars in the sky had other plans, it seemed. Because from the moment you were born, you were meant to marry Falena.

Leona has long-since learned that no matter what he does, he’ll never be enough to win the public’s love. It didn’t matter that he knew you never had feelings for Falena, or that Falena was seeing someone else in secret. His brother will be king, not him. He’ll watch you walk down the aisle towards him, and then he’ll go back to his room and take a nap, and tell himself that he won’t be upset. That’s just the way life will be.

One day, while napping behind a curtain in the royal library, he catches wind of something so very interesting. Your parents arrived in the kingdom that morning, bearing news: Falena’s engagement has been peaceably broken, by your own choice, nonetheless. It’s a huge, life-changing decision and so a formal dinner is being held, to re-discuss the terms of the treaty. Leona wants to snap you up right away to be his, but he has to bide his time. For now, he’ll meet your eye across the banquet table, scowl softening a little. He should have known that he has always been king in your heart.

Silver childhood soulmates

Right person, right place, right time. Rarely did the universe ever align so beautifully. From your first meeting at the tender age of five to the time you were accepted into NRC, Silver has always been by your side.

He’s the first thing you see when you wake up in the mornings and the final good night you say before going to sleep. When small birds land on your desk and deposit gifts of acorns and flowers to you, you know exactly who they were from and who was thinking of you at the moment. And when you look at your handsome knight, you can’t help but imagine him by your side, every step of the way for the rest of your life.

Silver is more than just your best friend and first love. He is your person, through and through.

Best Friends to Lovers

Epel Felmier first friend, first love

You met Epel on the first day of school, getting beat up by a blonde upperclassman in the hallway. Much to the surprise of both boys, you jumped in to help him- pulling him off the ground and scolding the taller boy, who merely scoffed and wandered off. Though Epel’s ego was a bit bruised, he was grateful to you for helping him.

Epel became your constant companion after that. You could listen to him talk for hours while laying on the floor of your dorm room, a bag of apple chips in hand. His roguish accent and mischievous jokes charm you a little more each day, making him more than just the rough-hewn boy you met at the entrance ceremony not long ago.

His grandparents know all about you from the letters he sends home. Even in ink, they can sense his lovestruck heart. They had felt the same way when they started courting all those years ago. The Felmier family are fools in love, it seems. You would call him your best friend if someone asked, but Epel wants to be so much more.

Ace Trappola best friends to lovers

It’s pathetic how fast Ace changed his tune. The first time he met you, he was jeering you for being a magicless human. Now, he’s in love with you? When did that happen? And why did it have to be with you of all people?

Ace isn’t fooling himself. He knows why it’s you. It’s simply because no one could ever capture his heart the same way you do, with your smiles and your laughs and the way you look at him in both disapproval and exasperated fondness when he makes a crude joke.

Don’t act surprised when he holds your hand out of the blue or when he searches your face with those eyes, wondering what it would feel like to kiss you silly right then and there. He wants you, not anyone else, and it’s driving him crazy.

Kalim Al-Asim what are we?

Everyone thinks you and Kalim are dating already. You joke about it all the time. Oh, yeah, we’re partners in crime! Soulmates! Two sides of the same coin- but the line between teasing and reality has begun to blur. Once, you even made a jibe that you’d marry him one day, and Kalim got you an actual ring! It was so extravagant- a ruby inlaid with smaller gilded gems along the edges. He told you it was a family treasure, kept in the storerooms of Scarabia and just waiting to adorn the hand of the right person.

You tried to refuse, but he insisted. Money wasn’t something the Al-Asim heir ever had to worry about. So you go along with it, the golden band rubbing between your fingers and his when you walk down the halls, hands interlaced.

How does Kalim really feel about you? You’re not sure, so one day you ask- Kalim, what are we?

He looks at you curiously. “Aren’t we engaged?”

Strangers to Lovers

Deuce Spade the hallway crush

Every day between alchemy and history of magic, Deuce finds himself scanning faces in the hallway for someone who makes his face flush and his palms turn sweaty. And every day when you catch his eye and send him a wave, he finds himself tangled up a little more in his heartstrings, tripping over his feet as he tries to return your greeting.

He’s not sure when he first noticed you. Maybe it was when he fumbled and nearly dropped a potion on the carpet, and you caught it. His heart did flutter a bit then, but maybe that was because he nearly messed up the project he had been working on all night. He wants to talk to you again so badly- more than just a ‘hello‘ or a ‘thanks.’ He wants to brighten up your day just by walking by, like you do for him. Maybe if he becomes an honors student, then you’ll finally notice him too.

Jack Howl the mysterious savior

Being hounded by a group of rogue students wasn’t in your plans for the day. Trying to slip between the mob, avoiding their prying hands and sharp words, a sudden growl makes them all look up. A tall boy with wolflike ears towers over them.

Leave them alone. His voice is sharp, like a dog's canines. Golden eyes meet yours, steely and cold, but they soften for a moment when you manage to say thank you.

Your savior rubs the back of his neck. ‘S nothing, he says gruffly, but the lingering traces of blush on his face tell a different story. Only when he leaves do you realize that you had never gotten his name. Perhaps fate will lead you to meet once again, in the near future.

Azul Ashengrotto love at first sight

One minute he’s discussing the best way to mix a potion with his lab partner. The next, he’s sitting straight in his chair, eyes blown wide when you walk into the room. You’ve ensnared Azul Ashengrotto’s attention and heart without a single word. And when you finally say hi to him, ignorant of his shady dealings and strange company, he’s caught- hook, line, and sinker.

Azul begins to do things for you. Not in the way he does for others, with a flourish of his pen and a snap of his fingers. No, you’re special. He could never ask anything of you.

It’s so obvious, the way he favors you and gives you the best of everything he has. But he can’t bring himself to care- not when this new feeling brings him such happiness.

Idia Shroud closer than he thought

Idia Shroud has never met you irl. No way. All you are to him is a profile picture on a leaderboard, telling him to dodge the next attack or that he’ll never beat you in the latest game the two of you are playing. You make his gloomy days a little brighter. And when they’re brighter, he finally takes a chance to step outside for a bit and go to class.

In class is where he met you. His charming desk partner, whose presence he enjoyed far more than he thought he would. He likes your jokes. He likes that you play the same games as him and nerd out about the same topics. But when he returns to the world of online anonymity, he can’t help but feel disloyal- so much so that he doesn’t notice the lilt of the voice in his speakers is the same one that rings in his ears when he falls asleep in class.

Malleus Draconia love from afar

No one knows who you are, a mere human who attends NRC. You could be dangerous as far as his retainers know. Malleus isn’t supposed to speak with you- but oh, does he want to.

He’s tried to ignore the pull towards you, but he just can’t. Why is this mere child of man lingering in his thoughts, ensnaring his every waking moment?

One night when Sebek is busy berating Silver for falling asleep on the job, he sneaks away and finds you beneath the moonlight, staring up at the stars. He’s caught like a fly in a web from the first hello.

Enemies to Lovers

Riddle Rosehearts academic rivals

He’s so annoying. With a loud voice, short stature, and short temper, you could consider Riddle Rosehearts to always be underfoot. But even you have to admire his academic prowess, his name topping the scores at every turn. And just under him, is you. How very frustrating.

You’re so focused on one-upping one another that you don’t even catch yourself when thoughts of him wander into your mind throughout the day. Of course you think of him, you’re trying to beat him. But slowly the competition turns into wondering. What does he do in his free time? What’s his favorite food, his favorite color?

Little do you know, he thinks of you too.

Ruggie Bucchi the goodhearted thief

You heard from your neighbors about the slum thief who steals things from their shops. It’s only a matter of time before he comes to you next, they warn, so be ready.

And ready you are. When a skinny boy with rounded ears atop his head tries to slip something into his pocket, you call him out. And when he dashes away, you scramble after him- tackling him in a paved alley near some dumpsters. Cans go crashing over to reveal several homeless youngsters, shivering in the cold and barely more than bones. The boy tosses the food to them before you can intervene- but why would you, when you’ve just seen what you saw?

When he comes into the bakery next time, you make sure he pays. But you also slip an extra loaf or two into his order, with a wink and a nod. Your conversations become a bit longer, a bit friendlier. He’s quite charming and you have to berate yourself for falling for a thief.

He’s stolen your heart, hasn’t he?

Floyd Leech the hallway bully

Floyd Leech. Just his name makes you groan and roll your eyes. It’s not just you he teases you in the hallway by holding your things over his head, but you seem to be his favorite. How are you supposed to get your notebook back when it’s dangling almost 8 feet above the ground, courtesy of his freakishly long arms?

The graceful solution you come up with is to kick him. Right in his eel, to summarize. His twin brother is by his side in an instant while you walk off.

Jade expects Floyd to be livid. But even when he’s doubled up on the ground in pain, he’s got a grin plastered across his face.

His shrimpy is such a badass.

Jamil Viper flirting rivals

For someone who’s usually level-headed and cool, you sure bring out Jamil’s temper. He can find a million ways to insult and discredit you, but still you’ll bounce back with some snarky, suggestive comment that just makes his blood boil.

He swears he can feel your eyes on him from across the hallways. It makes him want to pull his hood up over his face. But when you approach him, he’s as calm as ever. Why are you leaning closer, prefect, and running your hands over his tie? He’s not going to fall for your ruse, so don’t even try.

Still, his eyes can’t help but wander down to your lips, wondering if they would taste like he imagined.

Rook Hunt one-sided annoyance

It seems like you’ve gained yourself a one-man paparazzi recently. If Rook is meant to be a hunter, you have to wonder if he’s any good at his job. He never seems to conceal his presence, following you down the hallways brazenly while spouting off fake compliments about your demeanor and beauty.

Well, you thought they were fake. It’s hard to believe anyone is genuine in a school full of villains, but you might have caught the attention of the one person who actually is. His company isn’t so bad sometimes, especially when you can talk his ear off about anything and everything.

Sebek Zigvolt forced proximity

This was meant to be a partner project, not a threeway. But being paired with the great Malleus Draconia means putting up with his annoying, self-proclaimed bodyguard for the next week as well.

You pity Sebek’s alchemy partner, because he’s ignoring his own work in favor of hovering over you and his liege. His loud, unsolicited advice and passive-aggressive comments don’t make him any more bearable. By the time Thursday rolls around, you’re about ready to drop-kick him into the cauldron.

Thankfully, you and Malleus get your work done early. When you’re packing up your things to leave, you find Sebek quiet for once, deep in concentration as he rushes to finish his own work.

I don’t need the help of a human, he proclaims in that loud, obnoxious bark of his. But he doesn’t complain when you settle down next to him, stirring the potion while he measures out ingredients.

Exes to Lovers

Cater Diamond the one that got away

Cater knows you probably hate his guts. Hell, he hates his own guts for fucking up so badly. You were the best thing that ever happened to him and he drove you away with his constant neediness and self-deprecation. It took him years to realize that he was so focused on himself that he didn’t realize that you needed support too.

He’s been lonely for a while, working on himself and his problems in the shadows. It’s been a while since he last saw you- he knows you might not want to see him again anyways, but he’s changed now- both for himself and for you.

Cater wants you back, if you’ll have him.

Jade Leech second chance romance

Jade was nothing more than a talking stage that never got off the ground. He was fun to be around and a good hiking partner, but you stopped seeing him after first year ended and you no longer shared a class together.

You didn’t think of him much throughout your second and third year at NRC . But when you arrive at your new work study to meet your partner for the program, a tall, familiar figure greets you at the door.

“Jade?”

Vil Schoenheit right person, wrong time

Vil has no one but himself to blame for the downfall of your relationship. He broke things off with you after his manager advised him to- she said that a young, taken idol isn’t marketable. You need to think about your image.

The stage lights blinded him and he dropped you without a second thought. Any trace of you in his life was erased; smoothed over to perfection like a beauty filter.

But oh, how Vil regrets it when he scrolls on his phone late at night, your Magicam account pulled up to a photo of you laughing. What he wouldn’t give to have you smile like that at him again.

The icon for a DM request sits beside your profile picture. Vil regards it for a second, finger hovering over the button, then clicks.

Lilia Vanrouge facing the future

Lilia has always known that humans live short lives. In his time, he’s seen countless people born and died. It’s just a fact of human life; a phenomena he watches from the outside in- disconnected. It doesn’t dawn on him that yours too will run out until Malleus points it out- and then Lilia becomes scared.

He’ll cut you off, hiding in the shadows and avoiding your eyes until a great danger almost befalls you. It is then that Lilia realizes he’d rather have loved and lost you than never have known you at all.

Please, stay with him. You have the rest of your life, however short or long, to live by his side. Lilia would gladly warp time and face the consequences just for one more minute with you.

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literaila · 3 months

Text

eavesdropping

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: seriously, the door was already open

warnings: satoru is an idiot, as per usual, sad tsumiki :(

last part | next part

year one.

satoru approaches the door to tsumiki’s room and he pauses.

after two weeks straight with the kids, you’d finally returned back to work--leaving the three of them to fend for themselves for the day--but you'd insisted on coming over for dinner.

to which satoru suggested, for the twentieth time, that you might as well stay the night. might as well move in already.

really, there's plenty of space.

but you'd pinched his arm and pushed past him at the door, telling the kids that you brought dinner. you didn't stay behind to watch satoru cradle his arm or smile at the back of your head.

and, seriously, he doesn't mean to eavesdrop (if he meant to he would've planned out something much more sophisticated than this) but the door is already slightly cracked.

“—but megumi doesn’t like it," he hears tsumiki say, soft and concerned. her tiny voice is a whisper through the opened door, so satoru takes another step towards it.

“that’s okay," he hears your voice saying, "you can talk about it if you want.”

one eye appears through the crack and he can see you and tsumiki, curled up on the bed, her eyes looking up at yours, tear stains an obvious sin.

satoru is quiet as he pushes the door, ever so slightly.

“he always ignores me when i talk about my mom or his dad, or he says something mean about them. sometimes he won’t talk to me for the rest of the day.”

this seems plausible. just five minutes ago satoru had witnessed an influx of cursed energy coming from megumi when tsumiki merely mentioned their old house and the dolls she kept on her windowsill.

he can still feel that anger brewing now, but megumi, so you’ve said to him, needs to breathe. you didn't exactly tell him to exit the table and leave the little boy alone, or come to tsumiki's room to check on the two of you, but, he knows that's what you meant. you don't have to say something for satoru to help out. he’s just doing what’s best for all of you.

honestly, you probably wouldn't even mind that he's listening in on this conversation.

you tilt your head at her. “did you ask him why?”

tsumiki sniffles, she pushes a sticky hand at the hair matted to her head, so you gently push it away and move it for her instead, much gentler with her than you've ever been with him. satoru almost complains, before he remembers that he's not even there.

“he thinks that they don’t care about us,” tsumiki answers, the hurt obvious in her voice, "he—he can’t remember everything that i can, but he doesn’t care. he doesn't want to.”

you coo at her softly, nodding your head with every word.

satoru has never heard the little girl so sad--he's used to her smiling face and bright energy. honestly, if there's an opposite to cursed energy, it would be tsumiki.

you must feel as disturbed by the difference in the little girl as he does because he watches as you try to restrain a frown.

satoru's eyes are wide through the crack as you attempt a smile. “it’s okay to not feel the same,” you tell her, “wanting to remember your parents isn’t going to make megumi hate you.”

“but it upsets him.”

“well not talking about it upsets you, right?” you say this the same way you chide satoru. and, yeah, you typically know best.

not that he'll ever admit that.

but tsumiki nods.

“then you should talk about it. don’t worry about megumi. you can tell me about them, or satoru.”

he wants to open the door completely just at the sound of his name.

“really?”

“you can talk about whatever you want with us. we’ll always listen," your smile is genuine now.

satoru tries to imagine you as a little girl, with someone wiping your tears away. but he doesn't quite believe that you were ever as small as tsumiki looks now. you'll always be this to him, he supposes, safe and infallible.

even when you were younger, blinking idly at him as he introduced himself to his new underclassmen, you were certain. he's always been sure about that.

tsumiki frowns, her eyes wide. “gojo put his hands over his ears and started singing yesterday when you asked him to take the trash out.”

he has to catch a laugh. you shift around on the bed, your face is stern but satoru can see you about to laugh.

you nudge her with your head, teasing. “i didn’t say he always listens to me.”

the little girl laughs as you nuzzle her nose and for a moment, satoru thinks he's invading.

but how can he walk away when the two of you are cuddled so close, looking so cute together? he should probably take a picture, just so he can always remember this.

but then again, a camera probably wouldn't capture the supple sound of tsumiki's laugh as you cuddle her, or your smile as you hold her closer.

so he just stands there, observing.

you don't say anything as the girl thinks, merely rub your hand up and down on her back, like a reminder that you're still there.

tsumiki remains quiet for a moment, and then she whispers, “i’m afraid that i’ll forget about my mom."

satoru is shocked by the statement, little pricks of guilt perusing through his chest. during all of the digging he did about toji zenin, he wasn't sure where the woman was, or if she was worth finding. he hadn't even thought of it, really. he wasn't very good at that.

and he watches as you pause, feeling kind of eager to see how you'll respond.

your hand continues its circles, and you smile, gently, knowing. “i used to feel that way too," you tell her, just as softly.

and maybe that hurts satoru even more.

“really?”

“yeah. i don’t talk to my mom anymore, but i used to worry that i would forget how she smelled," your nose falls in tsumiki's hair, and you pause for a moment. satoru almost smiles as you close your eyes. "or the way she hugged me," you add, squeezing.

he's never really heard you talk about your parents before. the vauge comment here and there, sure, but nothing more. he knows the bare bones of when you left home—if only from what yaga told suguru, a million years ago, but nothing more. you don’t talk about that.

or maybe he's just never asked.

tsumiki nods, her wide eyes kind of amazed at the confession. and satoru is suddenly glad that he let you follow tsumiki to her room, that he knocked on your door that first night when he wasn't sure what to do with either of them.

you understand this better than he ever could. better than he ever will.

“did you forget?”

you smile. “no. it’s hard to forget those little things, no matter how long it’s been," you consider it for a second, "i don’t remember a lot about her but i remember hugging her when she got home from work, and the way she said my name.”

tsumiki's perks up, “do you think it’ll be like that for me?”

“i don’t know, sweetheart. it could be. you might remember more than i do," you cup her face for a moment, hoping with her.

“my mom always wore rose perfume,” tsumiki's hands cover your own, and she looks closely at you, like satoru wishes he could. “do you miss your mom?”

satoru holds his breath for a moment, and your eyes narrow as you think.

“sometimes," you admit.

“does it make you sad?”

“every once in a while.“

tsumiki swallows, her face falling. “i miss my mom."

you kiss her head. satoru sees your eyes flutter closed as you speak to her, so softly he almost misses it. “it’s okay to be sad without them.”

satoru closes his eyes with you, for just a moment.

he thinks about aquariums and trips to abandoned houses and souvenirs that he couldn't keep but covet.

and his eyes open again.

“really?” tsumiki asks as if she doubts it.

“yeah. that’s just the way love comes out sometimes. it makes you sad.”

“will it always?”

“well, you’ll always love your mom, right?” the girl nods without thinking, and you smile at her. “then being without her will always make you a little sad. and sometimes a lot. but it’ll find its place in your heart, like everything does.”

tsumiki thinks about this for a moment.

satoru wants her to ask how many holes you have in your heart, and if you think they could ever be filled.

and he also wants her to never ask you anything again. he shouldn't be listening to this, but he's stuck at the door.

“do you think about your parents a lot?”

“almost every day,” you say, looking away from the girl for a moment. and then you look back. “but i think about how my mom is happy where she is, and how i’m happy where i am.”

satoru almost falls through the door.

“you are?”

“well yeah,” you say, obviously. you squeeze her a bit. “i’ve got you here. and megumi and satoru. how couldn’t i be happy?”

tsumiki settles into you, she nods in agreement, but considers something, frowning up at you. “i don’t want megumi to be mad at me. he’s my best friend.”

“he’s not really mad,” you tell her--and, well, satoru disagrees. megumi is mad at everything. “and even if he was, he’ll always forgive you. that’s what best friends do. they argue and then make up.”

“who’s your best friend?”

your lip twitches. “satoru. and we fight all the time.”

“really? gojo?”

satoru wants to ask the same question. shoko, he might've assumed. nanami, even. if you knew he was there you would probably say that tsumiki was your best friend, just to mess with him.

but he's there, and you don't know.

you shake your head, acknowledging how crazy this statement is. “yup. i’m stuck with him.”

“has he always been your best friend?”

“oh no,” you laugh at the suggestion. “we met just a couple of years ago, at school. and he always had more friends than i did.”

“…but now?”

“he’s been my best friend for a while, i guess, but i haven’t been his for very long.”

satoru frowns.

“cause you always fight?”

you laugh. “something like that.”

something like what?

and then you turn to her, eyes on eyes, making sure that she’s looking at you. “tsumiki, you know—“

and satoru thinks that he’s heard enough. he doesn't want any more secrets or any more questions. he closes the door as quietly as possible, letting his ear linger on the wood when he hears the two of you laugh.

satoru sits for a moment, almost able to see your smile through the door, without all of his eyes, like he really took that picture.

and then he walks away, into the dining room, where megumi is pushing his dinner around on a plate.

satoru sits down.

“what are they doing?” megumi asks, gruffly. he's calmer now, satoru notes, though grumpy as ever.

“girl stuff.”

“it’s dinner time.”

“oh, megumi,” satoru tsks, shaking his head. “you’ve got lots to learn about women.”

megumi frowns. “i know more than you.”

“okay, i just came here to have a good time—“

later on, you’re unloading the dishwasher, trying to be quiet while the kids get ready for bed, and satoru walks in.

in striped pajamas naturally. no glasses. he is already grinning at you as he leans against the counter, his fingers tapping on the granite.

you roll your eyes automatically, pushing him a little because he's in your way.

"what, satoru?"

“so, i’m your best friend, huh?”

you turn. “i knew that door was open—“

next part

865 notes · View notes

pretty-little-mind33 · 10 months

Text

Starlight

Conrad Fisher x fem!reader

Summary: You've always felt inadequate compared to Belly, but it's possible you never had a reason to.

Genre: Fluff, kinda angst? hurt and comfort <3

Warnings: harassment, underage drinking, swearing

You'd always been second to Belly Conklin. Although it had been the five of you since you could remember, for some reason it seemed like in the end only four mattered: Belly, Steven, Jeremiah, and Conrad. You were always in the shadows, and now that Isabel had returned to Cousins as beautiful as ever, you wanted to disappear.

It was now apparent to everyone around that Isabel Conklin was the Sun. And you? You weren't even the Moon. You were dust at most, and who would choose dust over the Sun?

"You having fun lil' sis?" Jeremiah fisher asks, leaning against the lonesome wall you claimed as yours. You look at him and scrunch your nose in disapproval. Parties weren't your thing. You only came because Belly had convinced you. Jeremiah grins and points behind him, "Well, that cute boy hasn't stopped looking at you since we arrived, if that makes things a little better." Jeremiah winks and your eyes round. Reluctantly, you glance behind him and see a handsome boy with blond curls smiling at you.

You panic. No boy had ever looked at you like he was and you had never wanted any boys to look at you in that way before—not unless their name was Conrad Fisher.

However Conrad is Belly's now, it's obvious, and you aren't even competition. So, you smile at the boy. You learn his name is Alex and he hands you a drink the moment you walk over to him (upon Jeremiah's insistence). Alex seems genuinely interested in your conversations so when he asks you to dance with him, you don't refuse.

His hand on your hip is foreign and it makes you nervous. But, because the small amount of liquor in your system drowns out any anxieties you have and you lean into him and let him move your hips into his. As soon as Alex's lips skim your neck however, someone's hand is gripping your arm and pulling you away. You lose your balance and bump into the person's chest.

"What the fuck." Conrad hisses. It takes you a moment to understand it isn't you he's addressing, "She's sixteen, you creep."

"Conrad!" You shout, hoping his hand would loosen around your arm. It didn't and it isn't until you push him that he turns to you. His cheeks have blushed pink and the look in his eyes makes you pause. Conrad had never looked at you like that before.

"Did he hurt you?"

You blink at him, head shaking, "Excuse me?"

"Don't touch or even speak to her again." Conard turns around to threaten Alex and your eyes widen, "Now leave." To your surprise, and disappointment, Alex reluctantly listens to him.

"What? No! What the fuck, Conrad?" You curse, pulling your arm from his hand. You stumble but keep your gaze on his. Conard frowns and his hand holds your waist instead,

"You're drunk." He says and you narrow your eyes at him.

"I had one drink!"

"You're a lightweight then." Conrad deadpans and holds out his hand to you, "I'm calling your mom, Y/n. Give me your phone."

You shake your head, "Stop it, Conrad. You're embarrassing me." You murmur and look down, tears pricking your eyelids. Conrad has always seen you as a kid. He has never seen you as an equal, or as a girl he could potentially love, and at this point you don't know which hurts more.

His expression softens seeing your teary eyes. When you look up at him, he looks guilty. You hug your arms around yourself and muster up the courage to ask, "Why did you do that?" You pause, "Alex liked me, he liked me! For once in my life a boy likes me and not Belly and you had to ruin it for me. Why!?"

You look him dead in the eyes when you say, "I hate you Conrad, and I hate that I love you even more." And you mean every single word. All you want to do now is to run and hide, but all you can do is stand there, frozen in time, as you aggressively rub your cheeks with your palm.

Conrad doesn't know how to answer you. His entire body burns to hug you, kiss you, do anything to make you smile again. Smile like you had been when he saw you dancing with that boy. Honestly, he hates himself for being jealous — because yes he was jealous. He has no claim to you whatsoever but simply seeing another boy's hands on your skin made him see red.

Conrad knows your words have been spoken only because of the alcohol you drank. He knows you don't hate him, and he knows you don't love him. Only, some part of him isn't so sure you don't love him. Part of him is hoping you do love him because he loves you too.

But he can't do anything about that now, not when you seem drunk.

"Is she crying? Y/n, are you okay?" Belly suddenly comes rushing up to you both, Cam Cameron abandoned behind her. She puts a delicate hand on your shoulder and you turn around. Instantly, you bury your head into her shoulder and start sobbing. Belly wraps her arms around you as she mouths, "What did you do" to Conrad.

You don’t think he answers her, because she takes your waist and pulls you away from him and into the nearest bathroom. You crumble to the ground and hug your knees, muttering something. Belly slowly shuts the door and kneels next to you, "How much have you had to drink?"

"Apparently, I'm drunk." You sniffs, rubbing your hand under your nose. You look at her with tears in your eyes. "You're so pretty, Belly."

Belly looks surprised, her eyes widening, and she puts her hand over yours, "You're pretty, Y/n." she says, trying to reassure you.

"Not like you are, Bells," You exclaim, "No one has ever looked at me like Cam looks at you. Or Jere. Or even Conrad! And I want them—him—to look at me like that. I don't want him to look at me like I'm a kid he has to keep in check." You choke out another whimper and bury your head in your arms, hands clutching at your hair.

"You're in love with Conrad." Belly suddenly states, her hand disappearing from yours.

Your eyes widen and you look up, quickly shaking your head, 'What? No." You could see Belly's cheeks turn pinker. You'd known about Belly's massive crush on Conrad Fisher since forever and you had never intended to stand in their way. You never even intended to tell Conrad, or anyone for that matter, that you love him.

"It doesn't matter, trust me. Conrad loves you, Belly." You assure her but she doesn't look in any way convinced.

"I don't love him and he doesn't love me." Belly comments determinedly, standing up, "And I'm going to show you why."

You don't understand what she means until a few minutes after she left, the bathroom door opens again. Conrad runs in like he's seen a ghost. In a blur, his hands cup around your cheeks and he's moving your head around, "How did that bastard touch you? Y/n tell me now or I swear–" Your eyes must have been wide open because Conrad squints at you, confused.

"Connie," You say and hearing his nickname, Conrad's body relaxes, "Alex didn't hurt me."

"Belly mentioned you had a fucking bruise, Y/n/n." Conrad continues to roam his hands around your skin as gently as he can. You look at his face. His beautiful face and you notice how different the small freckles he gets because of the sun look in the darkness of this small bathroom. Conrad Fisher has always been so beautiful. If Belly is the Sun, then you're sure he's the Moon and that realization only breaks your heart more.

Conrad's thumb pads under your eye, "Don't cry." He says.

You look up at him and he can't help but think how beautiful you are. Conrad wishes he could give you his eyes, even only from a day, so that you could see yourself just as he sees you.

"I'm not drunk. I promise." You whisper and he cracks a smile. He nods, "I-Connie, if I tell you this can you promise it won't change a thing?"

"Sure." He answers and sits down in front of you, his hands draped across your knees.

"I meant what I said. I hate you," Conrad's face falls, "But I hate you because you won't ever love me the way I love you. I hate you because every time I look at you I want to be someone else, someone that would be worthy of your love. Someone prettier—"

"Y/n," Conrad interrupts you with his hand over your mouth, "Don't finish that sentence. Please. It breaks my heart that you can't see yourself like I see you." He removes his hand and you stay silent. His fingers run through your hair until he cups your chin, "How can you expect nothing to change now that I know you love me?"

You cringe and turn your head, "Because I don't want to lose you."

You hear him laugh and as beautiful as the sound is, it tears your heart into a million little pieces. "You could never lose me." He says and leans back, his arms now crossed over his knees. He's looking into space. You glance at him and he looks like the old Connie. His eyebrows are raised and it looks like he's smirking.

You sniff, "I am losing you."

Conrad tilts his head, "How?"

"Because you love Belly. Because she's the Sun and you're the Moon and I'm, well, I'm fucking dust." You exclaim and Conrad looks at you like you've suddenly grown two heads.

"What?"

"Don't make me repeat myself." You whisper.

Conrad inches towards you, his arms outstretched. You look at him curiously but still, you let him hug you. You're leaning against his chest now and he smells like laundry detergent and sea salt. His large hand rests in your hair and he leans his chin on your head, "I don't love Belly, Y/n. Not in that way. She's like my little sister. She has always been."

"Oh," You say and you think back to Belly's words: Conrad doesn't love me, and I'm going to show you why. You think back to how Conrad looked at you when he was pissed at Alex, or how he almost broke the bathroom door down to make sure you weren't hurt. "Am I like your sister too? Is that why you got so protective?"

You sense his body tense and there is a pause.

"No." Conrad breathes out, "Y/n, you're not like my sister."

You lean away and look at him. Your tone is serious now, "So what am I to you, Conrad?"

His eyes shine blue like the ocean and you almost drown looking at them. He's so close to you now and his cheeks are rosy. You both smell faintly like cranberry liquor and his hand is soft on the exposed skin of your thighs, "You're a Star. My Star."

You feel like you've lost your breath, "I'm your Star?"

Conrad nods, "You see, the Moon is lonely." He explains, expression serious, "He's usually all alone and sometimes it makes him want to cry. But whenever his Star comes out of hiding and shines into the darkness, the Moon is happy again. Unfortunately, his Star doesn't know how brightly she shines though. Most times, the Sun can't even compare because this Star," Conrad pauses, "his Star, isn't blinding. You can look at her shine all night and she'll always be the most beautiful thing. She's kind and brave and the Moon loves her more than anything." You have the sudden urge to sob and Conrad brings his thumb under your eye again, catching some tears, "Shh, it's okay." He says and you don't know how to react. You're suddenly wondering if, because of your crying, you have snot running down your nose.

Conrad Fisher has just declared his love for you and you're thinking about snot. It's all so funny you laugh. Conrad's nose scrunches, "Are you laughing at me?" He asks, mouth ajar.

You shake your head, "No!" You say but you start laughing again, covering your mouth and shrinking into yourself.

"Oh I see, you can make corny metaphors but I can't." Conrad rolls his eyes. Your mouth twists into a smile and you take his cheeks in your hands, pulling him to you until your noses are almost touching. In between your fingers you can see the tips of Conrad's ears turn pink.

"You can make as many metaphors as you want, Con. As long as you mean them."

He smiles, "I have never meant anything more in my life, Y/n/n."

You feel his hand find its way to the back of your head and he pulls you forward, his lips meeting yours. It's like a weight has been lifted from both your chests and you kiss him back instantly. It isn't like you imagined your first kiss with Conrad to go. You certainly weren't sitting on the floor of some random person's bathroom, dried tears on your cheeks.

But, it's still somehow better.

Conrad's hands now find themselves on your hips as he continues to kiss you, lips delicately moving to your neck. The situation is so ironic you chuckle. You move away and Conrad looks confused.

You fake a pout, "I'm sixteen, Connie. Isn't this a little inappropriate."

Conrad begins to panic, "What? I-I mean, I'm barely a year older than you! Are you uncomfortable because," He pauses seeing your expression and he suddenly remembers what he had said to Alex and he blushes, "Okay, that wasn't funny." He whines.

"Kinda was." You boast.

Conrad leans back and tucks some hair behind your ear, "So what do you say we leave this bathroom and go dance." He asks and your heart flutters. You nod. You had never wanted anything more.

* ~ *

Summer ended and came again quickly. It had been a year since Conrad kissed you in that bathroom and a year since he became your boyfriend. Since you didn't live in Cousins, long distance had been complicated. But this was Conrad—when he wanted something he was determined to make it work and luckily for him you had the same amount of determination.

It was Belly's seventeenth birthday, yours having happened a few months prior to the Summer, and Shayla was throwing her a party. Parties usually weren't your thing but having Conrad around made things better.

"Hey lovebirds, this is my make out spot now. Go away." Jeremiah exclaims, leaning on the wall you and Conrad had claimed as your own. He pushes you away from your boyfriend. You laugh as Conrad sends Jeremiah a dirty look.

"You're a freak, Jere. Why can't you find your own?" He asks, his arm remaining around your waist.

"Because this is the only quiet one, and she isn't the only one who wants privacy."

You look at Micheal, Jeremiah's boyfriend, and smile, "Hi, Mike." Micheal awkwardly smiles back.

"Why can't you find a bathroom?" Argues Conrad.

"Occupied." Jeremiah defends.

"Okay children, calm down." You say, taking your boyfriend's hand in yours, "Babe, I’m thirsty, do you think you could grab us drinks while I dance with Belly and Taylor?" Conrad sighs and looks down at you. He squeezes your hand.

"Of course, Starlight." Conrad says sweetly. He then turns around and ignores Jeremiah as he says a quick hello to Micheal and leaves for the kitchen. You smile sheepishly, "Sorry, here!" You move from the wall, "Have fun! I mean–um. Yeah!" You state, waving, and quickly leave to find Belly and Taylor.

"Y/n!" Belly shouts from the crowd and you push your way towards them. Belly hugs you and when she pulls away her cheeks are flushed and you know she's had one too many drinks. But, by the way Taylor is holding her hand you know she's in good hands. Literally.

"Hi, Bells'. Tay." You smile and start to dance with them. Taylor nods at you, gripping Belly's hips and moves them to the music. Just like last year they're wearing flower crowns and they look beautiful. Your mind wanders to Conrad and you remember how he'd offered to buy or make you a flower crown last year since Belly only had two. He'd been so kind. You smile. However, just as quickly as your smile came it disappeared because someone's hands touched your waist. You know it's not Conrad, you know how his hands feel and these aren't his hands.

You turn around only to be met with familiar blond curls, "Alex?"

"Hi, Y/n." Alex smiles, not moving his hands. You return his smile awkwardly. You don't know what to do. His smile makes you want to puke and you don't understand why. You look around for Conrad. "You wanna finish our dance, without interruptions this time?"

"Oh, I'm sorry Alex, I actually have a boyfriend." You mutter and shakily move his hands. Belly has turned around now and when she notices Alex, she drunkenly frowns. In seconds she's taking your hand and pulling you into her and away from the boy.

"Hi," She slurs, "I'm Belly."

Alex sends her a tight-lipped smile, "Hi," You look away but his hand gripping your arm makes you turn to him again, "I-" He starts but he's interrupted by Conrad yanking his arm, causing him to drop his hold on you.

"Don't ever touch her." Conrad snaps.

Alex squints at Conrad, "Not you again." He looks at you, "Does he even know you?"

"I'm her boyfriend, dipshit." Conrad exclaims, his arm going around your shoulder and you unconsciously lean into him.

Alex frowns, "Oh," He moves away, "My bad, man." Your hands clench. Suddenly it matters that you're taken? It hadn't only a minute earlier! When Alex leaves, you turn to Belly and Taylor and they look just as disgusted as you do.

"My bad, man." Taylor mocks, "Asshole." She says and continues to dance.

"Men suck." Belly mutters, taking Taylor's hand and spinning her around. You laugh. You would have agreed, had your boyfriend's hands around your waist not reminded you that no, not all men sucked. But then again, not all men were your boyfriend.

You spin back around and he pulls you into him, "You ok?" He asks, genuinely concerned. You smile and nod, "Good." He says, rubbing his thumb over your hips. His lips twist into a smirk and you tilt your head.

"You look like you enjoyed that." You say.

Conrad raises his brow, "I did not enjoy him touching you when you were obviously uncomfortable, Starlight."

You laugh, "No, I meant telling him that you're my boyfriend."

"I am your boyfriend." Conrad smirks and leans in to kiss your forehead. He looks at you, blue eyes shining, "Is it so bad that I want people, especially idiots like him, to know?"

You pretend to think for a moment, "No," You smile, "I don't think it's bad."

"Good because I want everyone to know." Conrad says as he kisses your lips. You lean up and wrap your arms around his shoulders.

"Ew, gross." Belly groans, pulling on your arm, "Connie, leave her alone. It's my birthday and I want to dance with my best friends!" You chuckle as Conrad’s eyebrows scrunch but he doesn't protest, he only points to Belly and says,

"Only because it's your birthday."

Belly drunkenly points her tongue at him and Conrad smirks, amused at how childish she is when she's drunk. You look at them and your own smile curls your lips. A year ago, Conrad smiling at Belly would have made your heart sink and your insecurities spiral. Now, those insecurities are forgein because while Belly might be the Sun and Conrad might be the Moon, you were his Star.

And what is a Moon without Stars?

#conrad fisher #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher w you #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher fluff #conrad fisher smut #conrad fisher fanfic #the summer i turned pretty #the summer i turned pretty fanfiction

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narcissistshandler · 8 months

Note

giving miguel head while he explains complicated concepts of the multiverse. 😳 at first he chuckles when reader requests this, but he starts to struggle and lose track of what he was talking about. his voice becomes more desperate as he tries to explain all this stuff he knows to reader with his talons gripping at his love’s skull and his voice shaking and melting into pretty breathy moans until he can’t think of what he was talking about and instead fucks reader’s throat til he’s an overstimulated, sobbing mess

𝗧𝗘𝗔𝗖𝗛 𝗠𝗘

✧ 𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦 gn!reader x miguel o'hara

✧ 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲 blowjob (reader giving), deep throat, slight overstimulation at the end, reader has no gender or genitalia mentioned, a little of blood

✧ 𝖠/𝖭 This was in my drafts for two weeks and honestly I don't remember what/how I wrote half of it, but still, this request was delicious

"—Are you listening to me?"

You blinked, seeming to come back to reality and looked into Miguel's judgmental brown eyes.

"I've been speaking Spanish for the last ten minutes," he continued before you had time to speak.

"I am," you insisted. Your first instinct was to lie. The truth was no, you weren't paying the slightest attention to any of all that complicated science and physics coming out of Miguel's mouth, even though from the beginning your focus hadn't left his lips framing every complex and long word, occasionally rising to appreciate that expression of concentration on his usually serious face that shouldn't be so erotic to anyone but you.

Miguel's eyes fell to your lap, as if he could see through the pillow you were holding, his brow immediately frowning in that way that indicated his bad mood.

"So what is the simple concept of what constitutes a Multiverse?" he questioned, sounding so much like a hot, strict teacher that you felt your sex throb in response, too distracted to even try to think of an answer. "What are the ways to overcome the barriers that separate our world from other universes?" Silence. "What happens when there is a divergence in events? Where does the variety of these universes originate?"

You knew the answer to some of these questions as someone who had heard more than enough about this subject: the multiverse was nothing more than the aggregate of parallel realities and bla bla bla. But that wasn't what Miguel wanted to hear, he wanted concise, long and scientifically coherent answers and that's why you preferred to keep your mouth shut.

"You weren't listening," he concluded with a sigh.

"Keep talking, I'll pay attention this time."

Miguel looked into your darkened eyes, noting the warm innuendo in your tone and then once again, his attention fell to the pillow that covered your lap. "You're excited," he observed, then continued seeming disgusted and irritated: "Why? Physics does that to you?"

“You do this to me,” you said. Miguel's expression seemed to become even darker. "You always seem so focused and intelligent while talking about these things I can't understand, it's sexy."

"You were the one who asked me to teach you, I didn't know this was a fantasy of yours," he pointed out.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," you asked soflty as you got up from the sofa where you sat next to Miguel and fell to your knees in front of his feet, your hands running up his bare legs until they slid under the hem of his shorts. "Continue teaching me, please? I promise I'll pay attention this time."

Miguel half growled at you, not seeming too willing to indulge in your fantasies even as his legs opened in pure muscle memory to give you room to fit between them and desire flashed in his eyes.

"How are you supposed to pay attention to what I say with my penis in your mouth? That doesn't seem like a very concise teaching method." Even with you kneeling in front of him on the floor of the apartment's living room, Miguel seemed genuinely concerned about teaching you some real knowledge about multiverse.

You rubbed your hand against the bulge in his shorts to bring him to hardness, laughing a little at how genuine Miguel was sometimes.

"You talk, I listen, then you can test me to see if I really learned something or not."

Miguel opened his mouth, looking ready to retort with some argument, but your fingers fitting into the elastic waistband of his shorts was enough to make him swallow back his words. “Okay,” he agreed finally, lifting his hips off the couch to let you pull his shorts down his legs and discard them on the floor.

"Without underwear?" You inquired teasingly, your fingers closing around Miguel's thick cock that was slowly getting hard for you and pulling him into slow, steady thrusts.

Miguel sighed at the sudden touch, a light blush coloring his cheeks at the teasing.

"Back to the beginning," he started to say, ignoring your words. "When we talk about the Multiverse, this refers to a conception of multiple universes or parallel realities existing simultaneously. Together, these universes are presumed to comprise everything that exists: the entirety of space, time, matter, energy..."

Your tongue trailed in a wet line from the base to the head, interrupting Miguel's speech as he trailed off with a soft sigh.

That usual satisfaction made you smile between the licks you dragged along his length, feeling the pulsation of the bulging veins against your tongue, your fingers keeping his dick firm at the base. Your lips parted, gently sucking the side of the bulbous, red head where drops of precum were beginning to leak.

Miguel let out the most beautiful moan, one of his hands falling into your hair.

“Oh,” he sighed softly, voice already falling into that deep tone that always did things to you. You looked up at the same time you slid your tongue over the slit leaking from his cock; Miguel's eyes met yours, warm and shining. He took a deep breath and continued speaking: "In the concept of multiverse, a scheme is imagined in which... all universes aggregate each other across an infinite vastness..."

He looked so composed even with your mouth on his dick and you wanted to break that composure of his until it became nothing, until his mind stopped working and the only coherent thought he had left was fucking your throat.

Miguel doesn't stop talking when your fingers tighten around his length in a grip that borders on painful and your mouth opens so you can take his length. His cock filled your mouth, the warm, smooth skin sliding over your tongue and inward in a delicious, welcome weight that made your skin tingle. Almost instinctively, you searched for more, leaning forward and taking him deeper, your free hand feeling Miguel's thigh muscles tense under your touch.

Saliva pooled in your mouth and as soon as you pulled your head back, spit slid down his length to his heavy balls and a wet line ran down your chin, a mess you knew Miguel liked. As expected, his breathing stuttered and you saw him losing his train of thought at the sight of your saliva-glossy lips stretching around the thickness of his dick.

"...In addition to the state superpos- superposition property, there are many other phenomena that occur as quantum-scale systems, such as quantum tunneling, quantum e-entanglement..."

The firm fingers tangled in the strands of your hair suddenly became sharper, like thick needles scratching your scalp. The threat of the grab hung in the air, filling your stomach with a tense heat as you realized they were Miguel's deadly talons, which could penetrate through the fragility of your skin in seconds and even an accidental scratch could draw blood. This realization shook you to the core and a moan rose in your throat.

"... So you can connect gravity and the other three forces in an apparently firm way?" he panted, sweat glistening on his forehead. "Dios mío."

It took you a few seconds to understand the jumbled words that came out of his mouth, but when you did you knew that you had achieved your objective, as the argument didn't seem to fit into any part of the multiverse theory.

Tears blocked the corners of your vision, jaw opening wider to take Miguel's cock deeper, the tip slapping against your cheek and tongue before going deeper, and then more and more. The salty taste of precum, sweat, and something else you could only describe as Miguel's taste rising in the back of your throat, clouding all your senses and pushing away the urgency burning between your legs. All that mattered was Miguel.

At that moment, your entire world was just Miguel's body contracting on the couch under the heat of your mouth, the heavy leg he had thrown over your shoulder and his heel digging into your shoulder blade in an attempt to bring you impossibly closer. There was a distinct feeling of discomfort growing in your body, Miguel's grip was strong and painful, his rationality seemed to have dissolved under the pleasure.

"[n-name] [name] [name] [name], por favor." The beautiful moans of your name in his voice echoed through the room in repeated, stammered repetitions.

The gag reflex kicked in, the bulbous head of Miguel's cock pressing past the tightness of your throat. Your eyes closed in an attempt to fight the immediate instinct to choke and suffocate, the desire to give Miguel everything he wanted was stronger. You willingly obeyed the grip of the talons on your head keeping you still, your mouth falling open and easy for the deep thrusts.

Resisting him, the urgency with which his hips undulated, as if he needed the pleasure to breathe, felt equal to having at least one pulled muscle and a deep cut left behind.

Fortunately, fighting him was far from your intention.

You could feel as his dick twitched inside your mouth and the thick, salty liquid filled your throat, which rose and fell as you swallowed. Your eyes opened, tears running down your cheeks, you closed your lips around Miguel's pulsing length, sucking. Miguel's reaction was lascivious, his thrusts becoming erratic, whole body shaking violently, his talons sinking at least a few centimeters into your skin, until it breaks under the pressure.

Hot liquid ran down the back of your neck, the pain was a distant thing in your warm body, your fingers digging into the soft skin of Miguel's thighs as you pressed the nose against the curly hair of his groin. Miguel whimpered as his cock continued to spurt small jets deep down your throat, tears glistening in his eyes and fangs sinking into the lower lip.

You had lied again, you hadn't paid attention to anything he said, but it didn't matter since you doubted that Miguel remembered what even was a subatomic particle now.

#x male reader #x gn reader #across the spiderverse x reader #across the spiderverse x male reader #across the spiderverse x gn reader #miguel o'hara x male reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x gender neutral reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #atsv x male reader #atsv x gn reader #atsv x reader #atsv smut

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lemonlover1110 · 8 months

Text

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Summary: Toji comes home to his asleep wife after working overtime

Warnings: Bittersweet, soft!Toji but he's an awful husband

I've been thinking about him so much... sgjg could be a scene from "My Beloved" before everything went down. Had it heavily in mind while writing this

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Toji absolutely despises coming home late. His whole day goes to waste, he comes home overworked and absolutely the worst– He finds his wife fast asleep on the couch. There’s no sight he hates more because he knows what went down: You stayed up late trying to wait for him, you tried your best to fight your heavy lids, you tried to entertain yourself and you did but your body got the best of you. He hates knowing that you grew hopeful at any unusual sound that came from the door.

You just wanted to see him at least once before ending your day. He hates disappointing you. It feels like that’s all he does. But he remembers how you’re so loving with him, and while he feels like he’s a failure, you don’t seem to think so. What you think of him is all that matters, even if he thinks he’s a complete loser.

Maybe he should wake you up, but he’d hate interrupting your slumber. So instead he picks you up from the couch and carries you to the bedroom, and he tries to be as careful as possible to not wake you up. Toji rarely smiles, but every time he does this the corner of his lips turn upward.

He often wonders how he got so lucky, and when he stares at your peaceful sleeping face that thought always manages to creep up. He’s as gentle as possible when he lays you down on the bed. He throws a blanket over your body and kisses your forehead.

“I love you.” He mutters, even though it’s rare for him to say. Maybe he likes the fact that you aren’t listening, he doesn’t want to seem vulnerable. And maybe he should remind you more often because the words seem to never leave his lips.

He gets ready to lay down beside you, and when he does, his eyes fall on you. You turn in your sleep, getting more comfortable, until you’re on your side, your face facing him. His hand goes near your side, and he feels the warmth that radiates off your body. He’s too scared to touch you, he doesn’t want to wake you up.

Toji’s biggest fault is his fear of being perceived as a fragile man. It damages your relationship, but not enough for you to walk away. So he won’t change.

His eyes keep watching you until he falls asleep, and he mutters “I love you” one last time before he fully succumbs to his slumber.

#toji x y/n #toji zenin #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro #daddy toji #fushiguro toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #toji x reader #toji x you #dilf toji #toji fushiguro x you #toji fluff

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ozzgin · 3 months

Note

Does the asylum spider have a name by any chance and will his story have any romance in it?

The first part was very much intended as a budding romance, but I always seem to get caught up in the story and leave out a lot of interaction. Sorry about that 😭

I initially wanted to keep this ask for some extra, longer headcanons, but as I started writing today I realized a lot of the details would be covered in part 2. So instead I’ll just tell you a little bit about spider boy. I guess it still counts as headcanons, but less ample.

Yandere! Asylum Spider Character Info

Get to know the strange creature you found in the sewers.

[Main Story]

He does not have a name, and even if he did, it’s been too long for him to remember. He will gladly take any name you give him, so please do consider it. He hasn’t been spoken to in many, many years, so the idea of being called again - with a name you picked for him specifically - is enough to get him to drool in excitement.

Speaking of, the drooling is sadly unavoidable. He is very much aware it’s improper, but his muscles have atrophied enough that it is now out of his control. Additionally, the teeth curve outwards and so he can’t close his mouth fully. Hopefully you don’t find him disgusting.

The blindfold can be removed and he’s not entirely blind as you expected, but his eyes are no longer used to intense light. The pale orbs are quickly overstimulated if he tries to gaze outside. Therefore, he will keep it on most of the time. The darkness also makes him feel more secure. The only thing he does enjoy glancing at every now and then is, well, you. He was suspecting you’d be pretty and he certainly wasn’t wrong, so he is indeed very grateful to have been able to take in your face.

You can also loosen up the straight jacket and, with a little bit of exercise, he will be able to move his arms. It’s probably the thing he’s most enthusiastic about, because he can finally touch you. It will start terribly clumsy; you have to understand, he’s been deprived of most senses for an eternity. His bony fingers might accidentally pull too hard or suddenly twitch into your skin, but he’s doing his best to refine his motor skills. He can also return any hug you offer him, and you should expect him to demand it extremely often. He’s now addicted to the warmth of your body.

Unfortunately the legs can’t be saved. They always drag along, crooked and weak. He relies entirely on his spider appendages. (I know there’s some of you out there probably wondering about it and no, the lower body is not completely paralyzed. You know very well why it matters.)

Lastly, as you will see, he can practice his speech and will eventually be able to use words and short sentences. Saves you a lot of time, especially upstairs where his knowledge is vital for survival. On the other hand, he doesn’t have much to say. He doesn’t remember much from his past, and what he does remember he’d rather forget. So he prefers to listen to you and loves it when you tell him stories from your life.

While he is terrified of the upstairs, he will do his best to protect you and he definitely has the means to do so. He has a gland that allows his saliva to turn acidic, his bite is venomous and he can regurgitate a thick thread of web.

You might be able to tell, he is terribly clingy. To think someone would have pulled him out of his misery. He is forever indebted to you and will never, ever leave your side again.

#asylum spider #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #monster oc #yandere oc

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thebearer · 8 months

Note

thinking about teddy or willow calling you baby or honey or something cute instead of mommy because they always hear carmy call you that 😭

OMGGG!!! i feel like carmen calls you "baby" when you're dating and when you're married it's "honey". like he'll kinda bounce back and forth between both but "honey" feels more domestic to him for some reason lol.

"Teddy, can you put your toys away for me, sweet girl?" You coo gently, attempting to chop the apple in front of you. You tried to remember Carmen's pointers about it, but you always ended up letting him do it because he was so fast with it.

You could hear the bustling of toys from the little play house in the living room, looking over your shoulder to see her with her little doll, playing exaggeratedly. You grinned, wiping your hands on the towel by the counter, sneaking out your phone to snap a photo to send to Carmen.

"Teddy," You said, stepping into the living room. Her bright eyes lifting to you, blinking with round eyes so sweet it made you want to melt. "Can you put your toys away so we can have a snack?"

"Yes, honey." Teddy hummed sweetly, putting her toys away in the small box in the corner.

You blinked, a little confused by the name. "What did you say, baby?" You asked gently, sinking to your knees.

"Yes, honey." Teddy repeated, blinking up at you sweetly.

You could feel your chest rush with that familiar heat of adoration. "Are you being silly? Why are you calling Mommy honey?" You grinned playfully, voice lilting in that baby coo.

"Noooo," Teddy giggled, running into your arms, nearly knocking you over when she hugged you. "Daddy says honey. 's your names."

You laughed, hugging her against your chest. You and Carmen both were beginning to learn how observant children were. Teddy caught on to everything- including the word "fuck" which she heard Carmen say once, and seemed to have never forgotten, tormenting him with it every chance she got.

"Daddy does call me honey, doesn't he?" You hum, pressing your nose to her little scalp, pressing kisses there.

"Yeah." Teddy agreed, clinging to your neck.

You carried her to the kitchen, hoisted on your hip, strapping her into her little high chair while you gave her snack to her. You texted Carmen to FaceTime you if he had the chance, babbling back at Teddy sweetly until your phone rang.

"Hey, honey, everything good?" Carmen's face appeared on the other side of the screen, shutting the door to his office when he did.

"Yeah, everything's good. I just... Hold on, listen." You mutter, walking over to Teddy. "Teddy Bear, Daddy's on the phone." You cooed excitedly, grinning at her squeals and shrieks of excitement.

"Teddy, tell Daddy what you've been calling Mommy." You urge lightly, hand running down her curls. Carmen's face falls slightly, the shake of your head assuring him otherwise.

Teddy just blinked, brows furrowed like she had no idea what you were talking about. You gave her a pointed look, brows furrowed playfully. "What does Daddy call me? That you called me earlier?"

Teddy thought for a moment before grinning. "Honey." She smiled when you laughed, nodding. Carmen grinned, watching her grab the phone pulling it to her face. "You call Mama that, Daddy, so-so I calls her honey too." Teddy declared proudly.

"That's right, Teddy. Good job, baby." Carmen cooed, grinning at her little laugh.

You took your phone back, smiling proudly back at him. "When'd she start that?"

"Like twenty minutes ago." You beamed. "I asked her to clean her toys and she goes yes, honey." You giggle. "She's so cute."

"She is." Carmen agreed. "Gets it from you, honey."

"Stop." You roll your eyes, trying to hide your blush. "How's work?"

"Good. Syd said she could handle dinner tonight, so I'm gonna finish prep then should be home early." Carmen hummed, leaning back in his chair.

"Yay. Maybe we could take Teddy down to the square then? She needs new shoes." You grab the wipes off the counter to clean her hands.

"Yeah, we can do that." Carmen nodded. "I gotta go, baby, but I'll see you later."

"Alright. Teddy say bye to Daddy." You coo, smiling at her little trill when she told Carmen goodbye.

"Love you." Carmen grinned at you through the screen.

"Love you, baby. See you later."

#thebearer #bearblahs #carmen berzatto blurb #thebearerblurbs #dad!carmen berzatto x mom!reader #dad!carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto fluff #dorothea “teddy” berzatto #carmen berzatto x fem!reader #carmen berzatto x female!reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto fluff

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kiss-theggoat · 8 months

Text

Homesick

Thomas Sawyer x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: After being dragged away from your home at the Sawyer house, you finally make your way back home with some especially exciting news.

TW: Mentions of violence, some blood

The way you ended up here, nauseous, sweaty, and exhausted on the side of a familiar highway was an extremely long story. Your long walk gave you time to reminisce.

The group came into town just like the rest. Hoyt on their tail and Thomas acting as an evil henchman, the only thing on his mind was you, waiting for him with a kind smile and warm hug. He begrudgingly loaded two girls into the car and slammed the door shut, splattering some blood from a previous victim. One of the girls was unconscious and bloodied, the other screaming and kicking at the door. Thomas was tired, and he just wanted to get home to you.

Lately he’d been letting his mind wander. Allowing himself to daydream and realizing that there’s nothing wrong with the little universe he’s created in his mind. He closes his eyes and transports himself to that world. You and him own a small house, cozy and filled with little trinkets he makes or collects for you, on a small plot of farmland where a wildflower garden that you planted thrives. He walks into the homely kitchen and sees you in front of a window, curtains billowing around your glowing skin, sunlight illuminating every part of your face Thomas loved most.

You were hard at work on a meal for the two of you. His heart swelled with the thought of indulging in something that you put your love into. He walks towards you and places his hands around your waist, feeling the soft baby bump there. Pride blooms within him and he-

“Dammit, boy, pay attention!” A thump to the side of the head yanks him away from you like a fish being pulled from the depths of the ocean. He hadn’t even noticed that the window had started to crack from the girl's struggle.

Meanwhile, you sat at home, cleaning yours and Thomas’ room while listening to the crackly radio that he’d found for you in town. You loved music so having it was a must, even if it was only a couple crappy radio stations. The only thing that distracted you from your task was the sound of a car pulling up to the house, crunchy gravel revealing its location. Tommy was home. You beamed, even though you knew to stay downstairs for a little while, until he sorted everything out. So, that’s exactly what you did. You say anxiously in waiting, staring at the door like a hawk and waiting for your love to hulk down those stairs like he always did.

But instead, the door slammed against the side wall, making you gasp and jump from your seat. You saw a man and a woman, both bloodied and panting, the man leaning against the woman and he definitely looked more damaged than she did. She hobbled downstairs, whimpering and crying. “We have to get out of here!”

You stuttered, but no words would leave you. She thought you were a survivor. A prisoner kept by the Sawyer’s. She reached forward and grabbed your hand, yanking you surprisingly hard for someone who seemed to have lost half of her blood. Next thing you knew, you were in a sputtering truck, tears streaming down your face and worry suffocating you. If they got away, where was everyone else? Was Thomas okay? What about Luda Mae?

As you walked under the relentless Texas sun, you realized, you still didn’t know if they were okay or not. You hoped with everything inside you that Thomas was safe. At least from your damage control, you knew the cops would never be a problem for him.

When you arrived in north Texas, you were questioned over and over and over again. Everyone was, but the only advantage you had over them was that you knew everything about the Sawyer household. The rest of the kids didn’t even seem to remember what Highway they were on when they got pulled over. The only detail they could give police was that the town they were in was near Austin. Which, in Texas, meant nothing.

You, on the other hand, slowly and carefully revealed a new piece of evidence each time, effectively leading the investigation towards the opposite side of the city. After the intense questioning, you were finally free.

The options you had were horrible. The cops were offering transportation. But, accepting their transportation meant leading them to Thomas. You had no money, no car, and had no idea where you were. But, through a few illicit activities, you gained access to a really, really shitty car that barely got you halfway home.

Which led you to where you are now. Sweating through all of your clothes, sunburnt, and one second away from blowing chunks all over the highway. That really shitty car had blown out on you, probably something with the radiator being baked in the hottest Texas summer in years. You felt like sobbing. You didn’t know if Thomas was okay, and if he wasn’t, what would you do with the rest of your life? Thomas had become your life. Especially now.

You flashed back to the first stop in your new shitty car was an equally shitty gas station, where you gathered some food and water through flirting with the geriatric cashier, and also stole a pregnancy test from the shelf as you left the station. You had suspicions of being pregnant after the third day of waking up with intense nausea, feeling like you were going to start sobbing if you opened your eyes too wide. Thomas had mentioned having a baby a few times, but you’d never actually put a lot of effort into trying.

As you sat on the dingy toilet, you watched the second pink line slowly materialize. You were a huge mixture of emotion, happiness that you had created life. A shared life with the man that you loved more than anything else in the world. But, you wished for nothing more than to run to Thomas and tell him, which you couldn’t do. You didn’t even know if he was even alive.

The walk along the side of the highway had started to look familiar, the highway getting smaller and the area getting more and more rural. You felt like collapsing, but needed to get home. The heat of the sun beat down on your poor cheeks and you could tell that you were sunburnt. Sweat dripped into your eyes, obscuring your view of the upcoming road sign. The fabric of your shirt grated against your sunburnt face as you wiped your eyes, but you saw the light.

Gas

N xt Ex

The rundown, faded red sign was like a sign from the heavens. You knew that the Sawyer’s station was at the next exit.

The little bell above the door jingled, kissing your ear drums as you entered your sanctuary.

“We’re outta gas.” Luda grumbled, flipping her magazine without even looking up at you.

You smiled, missing her so much you felt like tackling her over the counter. “Luda…” you said, tears welling in your eyes. You walked towards the counter as her head shot up.

“Oh my god, we thought we’d never see you again, dear!” She stands and walks around the counter, holding her arms out to you in a motherly embrace.

You cried into her chest, unable to hold it in any longer. You were so upset and exhausted, needing one thing right now. “Where’s Thomas?”

“Oh he’ll be so happy to see you…” she smiled, lovingly stroking your hair. “He’s been so upset this last week. He’s at the house with Hoyt, let me give him a call.”

You watched her dial the phone, waiting in excitement for your Thomas.

Thomas was in the basement as usual, sewing himself a new mask. His body felt numb, like it had this entire week. Without you, he realized he was empty. Nothing mattered. Life was worthless without you in it.

“Tommy!” The door slammed open, Hoyt standing at the top of the stairs. “Luda needs us at the station.”

Thomas stood, head down as he climbed the stairs. The entire drive to the station was silent and melancholy, Thomas staring out the window. Gravel crunched under the wheels as they approached the station, and even though Thomas was still in the car, he watched as the front door to the station opened. His heart nearly leapt from his chest, and he shoved the car door open before Hoyt even stopped the car.

You watched Thomas rush out of the car, moving the fastest you’ve ever seen in your entire relationship. The smile on your face made your cheeks ache, and when Thomas reached you, his strong arms wrapped around your waist and lifted you off the ground.

“Tommy! I’m so glad you’re okay! I was so scared, I’m so sorry that it took me so long to get to you!” Again, you couldn’t help but cry. The tears streamed from your face at the feeling of being embraced by Thomas. He was your home. He made you feel safe.

He shook his head and set you back down on the ground, holding the sides of your face to wipe your tears away, but his eyebrows furrowed in concern when he noticed how sunburnt you were.

“I’m okay, Tommy. I promise.” You whispered, leaning forward and resting your forehead against his. “And I have something to tell you.”

Thomas stared into your eyes and nodded slowly, letting you know he’s ready for you to speak.

“I’m pregnant.” You said, smile widening again.

You thought that Thomas’ heart might burst. His eyes went wide as saucers and he perked up, staring at you in shock for a moment. Once the shock passed, he pulled you into the tightest hug you’d ever received. Thomas moved a step back, staring down at your stomach with eyes full of admiration, his large hands gently touching the sides of your stomach.

You knew that Thomas would be the best partner you could ever ask for, and the best father your baby could ever ask for.

#slasher x reader #slashers #horror movies #horror fanfiction #slasher x y/n #thomas hewitt x you #thomas hewitt x y/n #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader

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forlix · 8 months

Text

𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞・l.f.

— felix misses you a little extra tonight; good thing you're way ahead of him.

words・1.7k pairing・idol!felix x gn!reader warnings・brief mentions of the ocean, drowning imagery genres・fluff, angst, established relationship, pining, hurt/comfort, lots of (happy) tears

a/n・i had exo's "been through" on repeat while writing this; pls give it a listen it's beautiful and so underrated and captures the fic perfectly. enjoy <3

When Felix steps into Tokyo's night air, he can still hear the remnants of tonight's concert in the distance, the occasional car horn and the low thrum of conversation floating over the dome of the stadium. But for the most part, it is quiet, and Felix is finally able to think.

He thinks about how he's happiest after performances: leftover adrenaline warming his skin, strobe lights still dancing across his vision, heartbeat still drumming against his ribs like the heavy bass that shook the stage prior. He thinks about how much he loves leaving each venue knowing that, even if only for a few hours, he owned the place; set it utterly ablaze.

But he mostly thinks about you.

From the moment Felix started loving you, his happiness became yours. A bite of brownie fresh out of the oven, met with widened eyes and a delighted mmm; every funny story relayed to you later that night (poorly, because he keeps interrupting himself to laugh); photographs, so many photographs—an especially rotund pigeon he spots on the way to practice, a new pair of earrings that’s way too expensive but looks way too good on him, cute texts from his mom—inevitably making their way into your camera roll.

He can’t help it. He only wants to experience the best parts of the world with you by his side.

So it is in his happiest moments that he feels your absence the strongest. And now, Felix so badly wishes you were here that he physically aches. It feels a bit like his heart is being swallowed by seawater, nothing in any direction for miles, nowhere to go but down.

Only when Chan materializes next to him does Felix manage to steady his feet on the cement once again.

“It’s not here yet?” Chan surveys the lot for their tour bus, to no avail. “Good thing, I guess. Everyone's taking their sweet time.”

The older boy gives Felix a glance thoughtlessly, looks away, and then looks back, his gaze lingering on the side of his face for longer this time, and Felix knows that Chan knows exactly what’s going through his head. For a second, Chan seems like he wants to say something, but Felix averts his eyes to his shoes, takes out his phone.

Not now.

“I think I left something inside,” Chan says instead, though he never leaves anything anywhere. Felix manages an appreciative smile. Without another word, Chan claps a hand to Felix’s shoulder and disappears back into the building, as quickly as he came.

A few seconds pass. Then, as naturally as if by muscle memory, Felix taps on your contact and holds his phone to his ear.

It rings once, twice, thrice—and then he hears your voice, but not in the way he yearns for.

“Hi, you’ve reached Y/N! I’m unable to come to the phone right now, but please leave a message and I'll get back—”

He ends the call, his brow furrowed. You knew he had a concert today. And you should've known to anticipate the call that would come right after, as faithfully as the sun’s rise and fall.

He calls a second time, hoping this was an obstruction of ‘do not disturb’ and nothing more, but is met with the voice message again.

The call of the ocean's depths becomes louder.

As he sits through the automated response, Felix leans against the wall behind him and tilts his head back against the plaster, his gaze moving over the night sky. Then, he hears the beep, and starts to speak.

“Hi, my love. I called, and you didn’t pick up, and I got worried. Is everything alright? Maybe you’re busy, or asleep? Remember to take care of yourself first and foremost—everything else pales in comparison. Everything."

His voice feels far steadier than he feels.

“Ah, I miss you, darling. The concert went super well; the energy was unreal. We have a few hours to explore Tokyo tomorrow before heading to our next stop, and I’m excited as hell, but I wish you could be here more than anything in the world. I haven’t stopped thinking about how much you’ve always wanted to visit this city since we got here—Seungmin even said he'd save his visit to the Pokemon Center for whenever we come back with you. All of us are thinking of you, babe. Me especially. Me hopelessly.

"One day, you and I are gonna travel the world together, responsibilities and schedules be damned, and we'll spend as long as you want wherever you want. As long as I can be next to you. God, I fucking miss you. I said that already, right?”

A short distance away, the building door opens again, and Felix quickly ducks his head out of view, suddenly conscious of his watery eyes and blurring vision.

“I gotta go. I think the members are ready to go back to the hotel. Call me back when you get a chance, okay?”

The next words catch in Felix’s throat, and he has to wince and take a long, shaky breath in order to get them out.

“I love you to the ends of the universe, angel. Share some of your light with the moon tonight, yeah?” He presses a kiss to the receiver. “I love you, I love you, I love you. Bye.”

With that, Felix hangs up, drops his phone into his pocket, and presses both sleeves tightly against his eyes, willing himself to calm down.

No, he thinks, shoulders quivering with the effort, it really never gets easier.

It takes a while for it to strike Felix as odd that it’s still quiet outside; he could’ve sworn that he heard the door open and close, that he should be hearing the tired chatter of his members by now. Apprehensively (obliviously), Felix lifts his face from his hands and turns around.

Chan, so solemn and quiet before, now wears a Cheshire grin that instantly devolves into a breathy laugh when he meets Felix’s eye. Hyunjin stands behind Chan, holding his phone up, evidently filming. Felix’s lips part in confusion, a question forming on the tip of his tongue. There are enough videos of me crying my eyes out on the internet, no?

But then his eyes fall on the person standing in between the two men, their arms piled so high with flower bouquets that their face is almost concealed entirely, and he forgets what he wanted to say; he forgets every language he knows.

“So we were contacted by a fan the other day,” Hyunjin says, beaming. “Kept calling you their boyfriend. Forced us to fly them out to Japan and everything.”

“It'd be real bad if we got the wrong person,” Chan adds, and a stifled laugh comes from behind the petals—one that Felix would recognize in every corner of the world, in every lifetime. “They look familiar?”

The bouquets part, and behind them you appear, cheeks visibly flushed even under the lot’s singular streetlight, smile so bright that it’s turned your eyes to crescent moons.

"Surprise," you say softly.

The empty lot finally erupts into laughter, Chan and Hyunjin no longer able to restrain themselves. Can't believe we pulled this off, they're saying to each other triumphantly, but everyone, everything around Felix vanishes save for the person he adores most in the world, holding more flowers than they should be able to carry, looking at him as if he's made of pure starlight.

And Felix's heart starts kicking upwards, towards the rays of moonlight filtering through the murky water, as fervently as if his life depends on it—and, in this moment, it does.

“Hand 'em over, fool,” Chan says to you. And as you start transferring the heaps of flowers into the leader’s arms, Felix has never moved faster in his life.

In the span of a few seconds, his hand finds the small of your back, and yours the nape of his neck. “Holy fuck,” Felix whispers, and then he’s pulling you against his chest tightly, desperately. There is no word that can describe the way you melt into one another except for destiny, one of your hands curling in his hair and the other running over his shoulder; his face burrowing in the crook of your neck, fingers lacing together against your spine.

His pulse is so loud that he hears it in all directions, in all parts of him. Felix squeezes his eyes shut against the material of your crewneck, his whole body shaking with silent sobs as the overwhelming array of emotions he'd harbored prior finally spills over. And he stops thinking entirely, simply loses himself in all that you are: the smell of your laundry detergent, the sound of your laugh, the feel of your embrace, so secure and warm as if promising him you’ll never let go.

“I love you, Lee Yongbok,” you murmur, the words only for the two of you to hear.

With the sound of his full name, Felix's heart breaks through the ocean's surface at last. Not only that; it performs a triple axel on the shoreline, and it sure as hell doesn’t stick the landing, slipping and sliding and fighting to regain its balance as you continue on.

“Forget the ends of the universe. You are the universe. You are everything that has ever existed and everything that ever will. And I couldn’t bear to be away from my galaxy for a second longer.”

Felix shakes his head from where it remains buried against you, his voice a broken rasp when he answers, “I’m not whole without you, angel. I never will be again.”

“I'm here, baby,” you reply, your hands tightening around his hoodie, among his long locks. “Whether I'm right next to you or on the other side of the world, I'm always with you. And I will be tomorrow, and the day after, and eons from now. That—”

Your lips find the shell of his ear, then his temple.

“—is a promise, my sunlight.”

Chan is standing with bundles of flowers still piled high in his arms, silent tears streaming down his face, and Hyunjin’s expression is contorted into a terribly suppressed weep, his still-recording phone long forgotten in his pocket. They don't have it in them to tell you to get a room. Not right now.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other works here. thanks so much for the support ♡

#felix x reader #lee felix x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #lee felix imagines #lee felix fluff #felix imagines #felix fluff #stray kids fluff #skz imagines #skz fluff #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #felix scenarios #*minific #lee felix angst #*writing #:'''''')#hahahahaha i am so in love

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scribbledghost · 3 months

Text

Hurt

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader (Reader, gender neutral, no Y/N)

Rating: T

Word count: 1850

Warnings: nightmares, descriptions of violence, brief mention of suicide, brief mention of vomiting

Note: This started out as a relatively simple idea and then it morphed into more Character Study because that's who I am as a person I guess.

Simon jolts awake, sharply inhaling as a telltale churning in his stomach sends him rushing for the bathroom across the hall. He knows he's woken you, but he's sure you'd rather him scramble out of bed in chaos than vomit on you.

A few moments later, when the contents of his stomach have been sent back up his throat and he's left panting and coughing into the toilet bowl, he feels your hand gently place itself on his back.

He doesn't mean to flinch. Really, he doesn't.

But he does anyway, and he feels your touch leave him.

Simon tries to even his breaths as he leans back on his haunches, but it's difficult. He wants to turn to you, to tell you that he's fine, but an irrational part of him is still convinced that he'll find you bruised and beaten when he looks at you. That he’ll find his own knuckles raw and covered in blood that isn’t his. The thought alone is enough to send another wave of nausea through him.

Instead, he closes his eyes, and takes several deep breaths.

"Wanna talk about it?" you ask softly.

"No," he blurts out immediately. He doesn't think he could bear to explain to you what's brought him to where he is right now.

"Need space?"

This time, he has to pause. Does he want you to leave him alone? No. He wants to go back to bed, pull you close, and softly tell you how he'd never hurt you. How he'd rather die than ever lay a hand on you in malice. How he'd never forgive himself if he ever marked your body with anything more than gentle love bites. He wants to hear you say 'I know' in return.

But he doesn't know how to ask for that. Not right now. So instead he says -

"Yeah."

He clasps his eyelids shut as you give him a soft and gentle "okay" before walking from the bathroom. His hands twitch, desperate to move and grab you and bring you back, but he dutifully keeps them in place.

Simon stays where he is until his legs begin to go numb beneath him. He then cleans up, brushes his teeth, then returns to find an empty bed. He leans back towards the hallway and notices the guest room door is closed, a soft glow emanating from beneath it.

He begins a practiced routine, though he’s acutely aware that this time will require much more effort to get his mind to settle. He pads into the kitchen, gulps down a glass and a half of water, and sits at the table with his head in his hands.

His stomach roils when he remembers back to the nightmare, how it had started with the memory of him nearly beating his good-for-nothing father to death. It had been satisfying, feeling his old man’s nose break beneath his hand again. But somewhere along the line, the face beneath Simon’s fist changed. At some point, he wasn’t punching his father anymore, he was punching you.

He nearly gags when he remembers how he had noticed the change, how he had recognized that it was now you with the black eye and bloody nose, but he had simply kept going.

His subconscious self had known it was you he was hurting. And he hadn’t stopped. Not until he’d jolted awake after feeling your throat constrict beneath his hands.

He’s listened to enough therapists tell him that there’s no deeper meaning to his dreams, that his subconscious violent outbursts don’t determine what he’s like in his waking life, but it still rattles him every time he experiences it. Especially this time. He continues to waste time trying to make sense of something that can’t be untangled.

Why had his subconscious changed the target of his rage from his father to you? Why had he not bothered to stop as soon as he realized what he was doing? Why did that version of himself not seem to have a problem with hurting you?

He doesn’t know the answer to any of those questions, and he hates himself for it.

The next time he bothers to look up from the table, the digital clock on the stove reads 4:34 in the morning. Realistically, he knows he should go back to bed and at least try to get another hour or so of sleep before he has to be up for work. But he can’t bring himself to move.

Simon has done this song and dance before, and he knows roughly how it will play out unless he willingly changes the tune or adjusts his steps. He knows that if this continues like any other time he’s suffered from a particularly bad nightmare, he’ll drag himself through his morning routine, zone out during important meetings, then limp back home to your arms that evening. But something tells Simon he won’t be able to get away with doing the bare minimum this time.

He’s never hurt you in his nightmares before. Even the worst ones pale in comparison to this one. Even the ones where he’s back in Mexico with sharp hooks digging into his ribs or the ones where his mother’s bloodied face screams at him, telling him that he killed her.

He’d take any of those in a heartbeat over the one he just had. Because at least with the others, he can rationally explain to himself that they'll never happen, that Roba is dead and so is his mother.

But this… this feels more real. Like there's some sort of sick chance that he could be at the punching bag later only to blink and realize he's really been beating you the entire time and has simply hallucinated being at the gym.

He thinks - no, he knows - he'd destroy himself if such a thing ever happened. If he ever laid his hands on you in such a manner, whether it was intentional or not, he knows deep in his bones that his first reaction would be to head to base, go to the shooting range, and immediately turn his rifle on himself.

Simon shakes his head, trying to dislodge the line of thinking he's managed to go down. He heaves a sigh from his chest and pushes himself to stand from the kitchen table, knowing his usual "keep quiet until the unsettling feeling in his gut goes away" routine won't help him this time.

He needs you.

As scared as he is as he approaches the now-dark spare room, as terrified as he is that he'll see you broken and ruined by his hands, he needs you.

"Love?" he asks softly as he knocks. "You still awake?"

"'M awake," comes your groggy voice from beyond.

He steps in, closing the door behind him as he uses the dim moonlight streaming in from the curtains to navigate. You lift the blanket for him, and he crawls beneath it and curls into you. After running a thumb along your cheek, he discreetly holds it up to the light.

He finds no blood there.

“Sorry I woke you up,” he mumbles.

“Don’t apologize.”

The quiet extends, and for a moment Simon thinks you’ve fallen asleep.

“Wanna talk about it now?”

He pauses.

“‘S’okay if you don’t.”

He knows. He knows if he tells you no, you won’t push it any further.

But he doesn’t want to tell you no.

“...I hurt you,” is all he says at first.

You drape an arm around him and pull yourself closer to his chest.

“It was my old man at first. Was beatin’ the hell out of him. Then it… it wasn’t him anymore. ‘S not like I didn’t realize it was you either. I knew. An’ I… I kept doing it anyway. I kept hurting you.”

You’re still quiet, and Simon worries that he’s scared you. Not that he would blame you, hell, he’s scared himself.

“I wouldn’t,” he breathes quickly into the dark. “I…”

He swallows thickly.

“I’d rather die.”

It’s a soft, vulnerable confession. One he’s never said aloud before, but he hopes he’s made abundantly clear nonetheless.

“I know, Simon.”

He releases a breath and closes his eyes.

“Just… I don’t know why," he says. "Aren’t dreams usually… I dunno, a reflection of yourself or whatever?”

“Not really,” you say. “Sometimes they can help you process stuff, but I don’t think it really has any bearing on who you are when you’re awake.”

“Sure felt like it had bearing.”

You don’t answer at first, and Simon feels you tracing the skin of his back, fingertips feather-light against him.

“I think… you think that you’re hurting me. In real life, I mean,” you start slowly. “Not physically, but in some other way. And I think maybe that translated into your nightmare.”

Suddenly, something clicks into place in Simon’s brain.

You’re right.

He knows he hurts you frequently. Never because he wants to, but because he has to. He knows he hurts you every time he tells you he’s been called away for another deployment. He hurts you every time he’s away longer than he anticipated. He hurts you every time he returns with just a little bit more of him missing than when he left.

He hurts you often. And he can’t bring himself to stop. Because the only way he could stop would be to leave you, and such a thing is not an option.

The guilt consumes him frequently, especially when he’s in the field, knowing you’re at home alone waiting for him to return. Hoping he returns standing upright, not lying down in a pine box.

You deserve better. You deserve someone who isn’t so goddamn hard to love. He knows that. But he refuses to let you go.

“You’re thinking too loud,” your voice calls to him through the fog.

A short hum leaves him as he feels you kiss the column of his throat.

“I knew what I was signing up for when you asked me to be yours,” you murmur against his skin. “I know you don’t control your job, or where it sends you, or when, or for how long. But I do know I’ll be waiting here whenever you come home.”

Another kiss at his throat.

“And I know you’d never lay a hand on me in malice.”

Simon pulls you closer; holds you tighter, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

“You deserve better,” he mumbles.

“I deserve you. And you deserve me.”

“No I don-”

“Shhhh,” you interrupt, shimmying up to kiss his lips, “no arguing, it’s late.”

He smiles against your lips, conceding defeat for now as he tucks you against him. He soon notices your breathing even out and deepen, and he presses another kiss to your crown.

Simon doubts he’ll get any more sleep tonight. But for right now, he’s content to stay awake, keeping watch over your sleeping form and ensuring no harm comes to you in the dark.

He may not be able to chase away his own nightmares, but he can at least protect you from yours.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost scribbles

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onlyjaeyun · 7 months

Text

𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍 – 𝟒𝟖

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐘𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓: 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲

⤲ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⤲ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞!𝐀𝐔, 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐀𝐔, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

⤲ 𝐰𝐜: 𝟕𝐤 (not proofread)

⤲ 𝐜𝐰: 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐯𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐦, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐦.𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥, 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

"Lee Heeseung, your girlfriend is crying again."

With your lips pressed tightly together, furrowed brows and teary eyes you land a hard smack on the back of Jaeyun's neck, basically fed up with his constant teasing after a four hour flight and having to spend the whole morning listening to his random rambles about physics and the development of the roman empire.

Your boyfriend's ears almost instantly perk up at the mention of your tears and before the barista can even hand him his change he's already busy approaching you with concern grazing his features.

"What's wrong, Baby?" Heeseung whispers the words and leaves a good amount of physical distance between you as you both can feel your brother's gaze following your every movement, only for his girlfriend to push her finger into his strong chest and scold him for being so dramatic.

All you can do is thank her with your eyes as they join Jongseong in the very back of the coffee shop, while Jaeyun waits for your drinks and has finally decided to take a break.

"These are happy tears, my love, I promise", you quickly say and reach for his face, gently caressing his cheek and loving the way your boyfriend doesn't hesitate to move further into your touch, "I just know this is going to do wonders for Wonie's mental health, I've been so worried since our last call."

Heeseung nods in agreement, his own chest still feeling heavy as he remembers the sadness in his cousin's voice throughout the entirety of your phone conversation a few days ago.

Little did either one of you know that your boyfriend and brother had been trying their best to organise a paid internship for you in one of their companies, knowing you had sent in your applications yet again after your first ones had gotten rejected. Once Heeseung got the approval from his boss, him and Hoon had decided to book the tickets for your best friend's birthday weekend because they knew you wouldn't hesitate to quit your job at the coffee shop, therefore clearing your schedule.

Everything happened way too quickly and if it wasn't for the fact you're currently looking at the huge "Welcome to Daegu" banner in the middle of the city's biggest airport, processing it all would have been a lot more difficult.

The thought of working at the same company as your brother, his girlfriend as well as your own boyfriend seemed scary but after talking to each one of them, those worries quickly vanished and were replaced by excitement instead.

And the fact a great opportunity such as this one came with the amazing clearance of your schedule and actually allowed you to be with your best friend for his birthday has been the reason for your overly emotional state these past four days.

Life finally feels good and for the first time in your life you don't have to constantly fight to survive but actually feel yourself living in the moment, mostly thanks to your loved ones.

With pouted lips and tired eyes you look up at your boyfriend and quickly bury your face in his strong, warm chest, the exhaustion from your travel journey finally catching up on you.

"I'm gonna make sure you two will have the best time ever", Heeseung sighs and wraps his arms around your shoulders, "these past few weeks have been exhausting for all of us, this is just a way for everyone to live and breathe a little."

You nod softly and kiss your way from his warm neck up to his chin before pressing your lips against his and the way your boyfriend barely hesitates to push his tongue into your mouth makes you chuckle intot he kiss.

"Calm down, big guy", you sigh and pull away once Jaeyun calls for the two of you, "Ning can only hold back my brother so much, we shouldn't test his patience."

"Yeah, you're right. I'm just glad we're not on the same floor in the hotel because I'd rather punch myself in the face for hours before I go five whole days without fucking the sweetest pussy on earth."

Seung's voice is a mere whisper, yet his unhinged words leave you completely flustered and with a roll of your eyes you bury your face in his neck again and pinch his arm to let him know how little you appreciate his teasing in public. Especially with your brother and their best friends so close to you.

Once the six of you make it to your hotel rooms, the boys decide to take a walk around the city, grab some late lunch and play some basketball in the little court in the kids area of your accommodations to pass some time but also get rid of their exhaustion. You and Ning on the other hand have decided to actually take a nap after a flight this tiring, as you wait for Sunoo, Jungwon's roommate, to finally call and let you know where the three of them had decided to spend the evening.

You didn't want to just show up at his door but rather join in on his plans and once his friend had told you about your best friend's wish to go to a night club, you got even more excited. It's been way too long since the two of you had partied together, however you'd lie if you said you actually went out to a club since moving to seoul exactly six months ago.

Too much had constantly happened, adjusting to work and university, living by yourself and of course the whole situation with your now boyfriend had basically not left any room to party.

You and the girls still occasionally went to bars yet these past few weeks life just felt too exhausting, so you usually stayed at home and kept things easy and calm.

However, now the thought of going to a club with your boyfriend and best friend excites you in the best way possible and you actually can't wait to join the boys.

By the time Heeseung comes out of the shower you've already gotten dressed, and are currently doing your best for the make uo look in your head to become reality, yet as soon as you catch a glimpse of Lee Heeseung wearing nothing but a towel around his hips, you physically can't stop yourself from eyeing him up and down.

"Don't you dare look at me like that right now, princess", he suddenly chuckles and comes to stand right behind you, his body too tall to fit into the frame of the mirror in front of you and at the sight of his pierced nipples you nervously start nibbling on your bottom lip.

"Can't help it", you sigh and take a deep breath as soon as his big hand gently wraps around your throat, his eyes fixated on your face as he remains composed, "you just look so good like this."

Unfortunately, neither one of you gets the opportunity to indulge in a short moment of intimacy, as the vibration of your boyfriend's phone right next to you pulls you both back into the reality and with a soft sigh of annoyance.

"It's Jaeyun, isn't it?"

Heeseung just nods and picks up the call with another sigh before he gives you a quick kiss and goes to get himself dressed.

Once the two of you are ready, it's taking you a lot of patience and self control not to rip your boyfriend's clothes off of him right away, the sight too tempting for your weak self.

But who in their right mind could blame you when it's Lee Heeseung in a black dress shirt, which he hasn't even bothered to button up completely, showing just the right amount of chest, combined with his casual slacks and a leather jacket.

You can't help but stare at him with big, hungry eyes, enjoying the way he seems confident and comfortable in his skin to the point where he shoots you one of his charming smirks and winks every time your gaze meets his.

However, you're pretty sure you've managed to cause the same reaction from your boyfriend, as he seems to struggle keeping his hands off of you.

Your little black dress fits your body like a glove, tight and charming in all the right places and in combination with your little jacket and your knee high boots you know you've got people's heads turning, yet all you care about is the way your boyfriend looks at you.

After about fifteen minutes of arguing how many ubers to order, you find yourself in a car with your boyfriend and his two best friend's, both of them slightly tipsy as they had decided to drink a little before leaving to avoid spending too much money on overpriced drinks and the closer you get to the club, the faster your heart starts beating.

Heeseung's hand remains on your thigh throughout the whole drive and you hate just how a touch as simple as that has already pushed you to the edge of your arousal to the point where you genuinely consider pulling him into the next alley just to get some relief.

But as soon as your phone starts vibrating in your hand and Kim Sunoo's contact name appears on your screen, you feel excitement and anticipation take over.

The second you guys arrive in front of the club, Heeseung's instinct kicks in and despite his best friend's expression of distaste, he doesn't let go of your hand and keeps you as close to himself as possible. He can't risk getting into a fight when his best friends are already as tipsy as they currently are because even if his skills are good, there's no way he stands a chance against a group without his boys having his back.

You calmly lean against the chest of your boyfriend as you wait for your best friend to finally arrive as well and as soon as you spot Nishimura Riki's tall frame get out of the nth uber passing by, a wave of relief washes over you.

Tonight is going to be a good night.

"No. Fucking. Way."

The sound of your best friend's voice sends chills over your body and with a loud squeak you pull away from Heeseung to run into Jungwon's arms, wishing him a happy birthday and taking in the warmth of his body and the comfort his hug comes with.

"You guys are fucking with me right now", he says and looks at you with his pretty eyes slightly glossier than usual, his lips stretched into a big smile until his dimples make an appearance and with a loud chuckle you just shake your head.

"This is literally the best birthday present ever." Jungwon chuckles and you love the way you can actually watch some of the heaviness on his shoulder slowly vanish as he pulls you into another tight hug.

"Then wait until Seungie tells you he's gonna pay for all the drinks tonight", you say and turn around to face said boyfriend with a big smile, not aware just how much he loves the sight of your happiness.

He casually approaches the four of you, dabbing up the two boys really quick before he pulls his cousin into a tight hug.

For some reason you can't help but let your eyes roam his tall figure for the nth time tonight, yet quickly getting it together when Sunoo elbows you in the ribs and starts giggling.

Once everyone hugged each other and Sunghoon proudly introduced the boys to Ning, you finally make your way into the club, your boyfriend's arm firmly wrapped around your waist and you can barely stop yourself from jumping his bones right then and there.

Especially once you guys find a little table to take over in the very back of the club, yet only half of you having space to sit doen and you notice all the girls shamelessly eyeing your boyfriend up and down. You know he's not paying attention to them, yet sudden waves of jealousy and possessivness overwhelm you and as soon as your brother and Jaeyun leave to get everyone the first round of drinks, you jump up from your seat and wrap your arms around your boyfriend's neck.

"They're staring at you", you whisper into his ear and place a soft kiss on his exposed neck, loving the way Heeseung seems to struggle holding himself back as you push your body against his. His grip on your hips tightens and you love how your usually so composed lover turns into absolute putty in your hands within just a few seconds.

"So what? It's you I'm staring at", Heeseung grunts and buries his face in your neck, suppressing the urge to kiss his way down to your exposed cleavage and actually litter your pretty chest in his kisses.

The loud music as well as the lack of oxygen in the club sends you into the sweetest haze of adrenaline and in combination with your boyfriend's addictive touches, you feel yourself letting go of all your worries and doubts that have been keeping you up at night these last few weeks.

"And it's me you're going to fuck tonight, right?" You tease and push your hands into his dark hair, pulling away just enough to look into his eyes, yet having to bite back a whimper at the darkness of his gaze.

"Tonight, tomorrow and for the rest of my life, princess."

His words send your brain into overdrive and with a soft whimper you hide your face in his chest and actually feel relieved when your friend starts cheering in response to their drinks' arrival and with a soft sigh you give your boyfriend one last kiss and pull away, knowing Jungwon's going to pull you to the dance floor as soon as he downs his shot.

You quickly lose track of time as soon as you find yourself dancing to the music alongside your brother's girlfriend and the boys, all of them cheering you on as you give it your all and for some reason you're not as shy as you usually are and you're quite convinced Lee Heeseung's strong gaze lingering on the whole time is the reason behind your confidence.

But it's also seeing just how happy Jungwon is, your worries and thoughts about him finally vanishing from your brain as you wrap as you watch his dance battle with the youngest of the group.

It doesn't take much more for your boyfriend to finally having had enough as he pushes his way through the crowd, completely ignoring all the girls trying their best to catch his attention, only to fail miserably. You welcome the warmth of his strong body in your back with a soft smile, pushing yourself even harder against him, knowing exactly what you're doing to him with every sway of your hips against his crotch, the bulge in his pants essily giving away your effect on him.

Heeseung's hands find home on your waist, his grip as tight as ever as he moves his body along to yours and you can't help but throw your head back against his shoulder when he suddenly starts singing the lyrics of the song into your ear, the experience feeling absolutely surreal and just when you thought he couldn't get any more perfect, you find yourself living yet another one of your daydreams.

The rest of the night is filled with belly hurting laughter, way too much screaming of wrong lyrics to the songs blasting in the club, quite a bit of bickering and stolen touches from your boyfriend. You have absolutely no idea how three whole hours pass by so quickly, only realising how much you've been dancing when Ning finally pulls you to the women's room, her drunk giggles and her attemots of a conversation all while being barely coherent pushing you into another fit of laughter and after about ten minutes of you trying to gatch your breath in front of the mirror, you hear the deep voice of your brother making its way through the door.

"We're heading out, the guys wanna eat some beef and play basketball", Sunghoon screams and can't help but smile when all he gets in response is the sound of your combined giggles, "hurry the fuck up. Seung's about to shut down the club if you two take any longer."

At the mention of your boyfriend, you feel your whole body heating up and with a soft sigh and a nibble on your freshly glossed up lips, you take one last picture with your sister in law and finally swing the door open.

This time it's Jungwon who seems to be a lot more protective over you as he takes your hand in his and guides you through the crowd to the exit of the club, feeling responsible of you while your boyfriend is busy paying for everyone's drinks.

And just as your brother had announced to you, the group makes its way to a barbecue place nearby, hungry and excited after all the dancing, only for your night to end at the basketball court you and Heeseung had found during your last stay in Daegu.

You don't even question where the hell the baskteball suddenly gomes from as you watch your boyfriend and his friends play a few food rounds, the cold february air feeling like an actual breath of fresh air after the lack of oxygen in the crowded nightclub.

By the time your body has finally calmed down from the high of adrenaline, you start processing just how cold it actually is and kind of regret not leaving with your brother and his girlfriend about half an hour prior.

To your luck, Heeseung quickly notices the way your legs seem a little shakirr than just a few minutes ago and with one last pass to the youngest of the group, you finally call it a night.

Different than you expected, neither your or his own best friends insist on leaving with the two of you and as soon as Jungwoon wraps his arms around your shoulders, you know exactly why your usually so persistent, self proclaimed favorite boy has decided to stay behind.

"Don't fuck too much, we've got an early morning tomorrow", he says and starts laughing as soon as your face changes into an expression of horror and without giving him a verbal response you opt for a slap against his chest.

Heeseung pulls you as close to his body as possible as soon as the two of you get comfortable in the back of your uber, his body still slightly cold and for a moment you're worried about his health and feel bad for taking his jacket.

"Are you co-", "I can't wait to fuck you", he suddenly whispers into your ear, casually making you choke on your words.

You instinctively press your thighs together and curse him as well ss yourself for the reactions of your body, yet genuinely enjoying the warmth his words spreads through your veins at the same time.

"Good girl", he whispers and finally starts littering your negk in open mouthed kisses the way he's wanted to do all night.

Watching you enjoy yourself and noticing all the guys devouring you with their eyes has been one of the biggest challenges Heessung has ever had to endure. Every time you denied one of those fuckers the privilege of dancing with you, he felt proud and possessive, the urge to claim you in front of them all taking over every fiber of his being within seconds.

At first he definitely felt a little worried because he's never felt as jealous and possessive over someone the way he does with you, the lack of knowledge regarding his possible reactions worrying him to the point where all he could focus on was to stay as calm as possible. Yet as soon as he saw the way you never once looked at anyone but him, Heeseung knew there's absolutely no need for him to worry. You want him and him only, and you're not shy about showing him off because you're his girl.

Only his.

"Isn't it funny that all of these people think you're this sweet, polite girl who's here to have a good time with her friends when you've been ruining your pretty panties all night thinking about my cock."

His words and their timing are well chosen, leaving you gompletely speechless and overwhelming you to the point where your ploute smile suddenly drops and you shamefully lower your head to hide yourself from the people around you.

Only when the doors of the elevator finally close and leave the two of you to yourselves do you look up at him with big, glossy eyes. A sight Heeseung would sell his soul for.

"What's wrong, princess? Use those big girl words for me, hm? I know you want to", Heeseung's lips graze yours with every single one of his words, his hot breath fanning against your heated skin and sending shivers down your spine.

A jolt of hot arousal shoots right in between your legs and with a soft whimper you grab a fistful of his hair to stop yourself from actually falling to your knees.

"I really, really want to suck your cock", you whisper against his lips and press your body further into his, "please, Heeseung. It's all I've been thinking about."

"You're so fucking cruel", he suddenly grunts and throws his head back in defeat, one of his hands finding home around your throat as he gently pushes you against rhe wall of the elevator, "stop playing with me, pretty girl. You know which one of us wins these games."

All you can do is chuckle because you both know it's not actually him, because as soon as your boyfriend gets a single taste of you, he's a complete goner and at your absolute mercy.

You can't explain what your effect on him does to your ego. You've never felt as loved, wanted and desired as Heeseung's been making you feel and despite being overwhelmed at times you've become absolutely addicted to it.

"I'll remind you of these words when I make you cum down my throat", you giggle against his lips, quickly pull away and decide to run away when the elevator doors open.

It takes Heeseung a whole moment to follow you, your words constantly repeating in his head and sending him into the depths of his arousal, something he's got yet to get used to when it comes to you. Every time you say or do something such as actually using your pretty girl words for him, teasing and playing with him, he has absolutely no idea what to do with himself. Nobody in his life has ever put him in this particular state of arousal; with you every single time feels like a whole new experience and usually ends with the urge to lay the world to your feet.

By the time he actually catches up to you, you've already pulled out your hotel room card, quickly slipping inside the comfort of your privacy and just when he thought you couldn't surprise him any further, Heeseung actually finds himself watching the way you're casually pulling your little black dress over your headc exposing your perfect body to his hungry eyes.

"F-Fuck", this time there's absolutely no way he can hide the intense reaction of his own body to your teasing and you feel your sensitive cunt clench in response to his deep grunt.

"Come here", you try your best to stay calm and composed as you wait for your boyfriend to finally approach you.

Mental images of his pretty cock in your mouth, the angry tip grazing your tits, his cum coating the muscle of your tongue and finally allowing you to indulge in one of your biggest fantasies overwhelm you, yet to your surprise, Heeseung seems to have slightly different plans.

You carefully watch the way your boyfriend basically rips open his dress shirt, exposing his tattooed chest to your greedy eyes, right before he comes to stand in front of you and actually drops to his knees without hesitation.

His big hands find home on your thighs, harshly kneading and groping the soft flesh all the way up to your ass and one of them casually reaching for one of your tits, his touch sending hot jolts of pleasure through your body.

"My face", Heeseung suddenly grunts and pushes your legs slightly apart, his nose deeply buried in your sensitive cunt and if it wasn't for his tight grip you would have lost every bit of balance you've had left, "please, Baby. I need you to sit on my face and cum all ove my tongue. I need it so bad."

Seung's gentle pleading sends shivers down your spine and for a short moment, mostly because of the way his pretty lips had found their way to your needy clit, you actually consider giving in to his request. But after weeks of begging your boyfriend for one thing and that thing only, you're determined to finally make that fantasy come true.

"No", you say and reach for his hair, grabbing a fistful of it and pulling his head away from your body with every bit of self control you've got left and as soon as your gaze drops to his flushed face, you let out a soft whimper.

There's absolutely no reason for Heeseung to look drunk every time he gets the tiniest taste of your pussy. You can't help but admire the sighg of his hooded eyes and parted lips, his whole face tainted in the sweetests hades of pink.

"But–", "I promise I'm gonna let you tongue fuck me to sleep later but I really, really want to suck you off now, Seungie."

Your tone doesn't give it away, yet Heeseung knows it's not really a request but actually a demand; your eyes widened and your hrip in his tight to the point it actually hurts his scalp, so without missing another beat, he kisses his way back up to your neck and turns you both to move himself closer to the bed until the back of his thighs hit the mattress and he has no choice but to sit down.

"Get to it then, princess", Heeseung grunts against your neck and his voice fades into a whimper once your knee gently nudges against the bulge in his pants.

After waiting for so long, you definitely don't need to be told twice and without hesitation you pull the fabric of his slavks down his thick thighs, your hand instantly finding uts way to his rock hard cock and calmly massaging him through his boxer briefs.

"Fuck, Baby", he suddenly whispers and reaches for your wrist to stop the movements of your hand, "I've been dying to fuck you all day, I don't have the patience and stamina for so much teasing."

His confession fuels the fire in your lower tummy, your heartbeat hammering in between your legs and once you meet his heavy gaze, you feel an actual urge to take him into your mouth overwhelm you.

"Is it because of me or because you didn't let any of your pretty little flings suck you off, hm?" Your question surprises him, yet you don't give him enough time to actually reflect on what you just threw in his direction as the sudden feeling of your hand reaching into the slit of his boxers to pull his rock hard cock free from its coffins and with a loud whimper of your name he can't do anything but throw his head back and buck his hips up.

"You're so hard", you sigh and feel your mouth watering at the heaviness of his length in your grip, "that's all for me, right, Seungie? Come on, how about you use your words for me now?"

"You're fucking evil", Heeseung presses through gritted teeth, his eyes rolling intot he back of his head as soon ss the sensation of your pretty lips grazing the wet tip of his cock overwhelms every single one of his senses, "only for and because of y-you, princess. Always and forever."

"Take your phone and call Sumin."

In absolutely no life time would Heeseung have expected you to ask something like that from him, especially not with your lips coated in his precum as you look up at him with those big, hungry eyes he's grown addicted to.

For a moment your boyfriend seems absolutely overwhelmed. Your request, your actual intention behind it, the feeling of your mouth on his cock, the way you're looking up at him and the fact he hasn't had anyone suck him off in actual years too much for his brain to process, whereas his body seems to have a mind of its own as he does as he's been told.

"That's my boy", you chuckle and pull his boxer brief down his thick thighs, littering the soft skin in open mouthed kisses as you use both of your hands to stroke the impressive length of his cock.

"Remember how I asked to never say my name?"

Your hot breath fans against the sensitive tip of his cock and just when you're about to pull away, Heeseung starts nodding frantically, despair and need bubbling up his throat in the form of high pitched whimpers and moans.

"Once she picks up I want you to moan nothibg but my name, okay?"

"F-Fuck", at this point Heeseung's convinced he's going to pass out from hos good you're already making him feel, despite not even getting to the actual event yet, "yes, Baby. Want you to claim me. Show her who owns me, make me proud."

Just as usual his words don't fail to send jolts of hot arousal straight into your cunt and with a soft whine you curse at him for being so casual about things like this when you've been trying so hard to stay composed.

You carefully watch the way your boyfriend dial her number, putting her on speaker and casually throwing his head back with a loud moan of your name as soon as her voice makes its way through the speaker.

With a big smile you finally wrap your lips around his cock and don't even waste too much time, taking as much of his length down your throat as possible.

"Fuck, that's my girl", Heeseung grunts and pushes his hand into your hair, his hips bucking up and theusting his cock a little further into your mouth and the lore his precum coats the muscle of your tongue, the harder your eyes roll intot he back of your head, "there you go, that's it, Y/N."

For some reason it sounds weird to hear your boyfriend use your name but you canmt help but press your thighs together at the raspiness in his voice and with each movement of your head, you can feel the way Heeseung's whole body tenses up just a little bit more.

"What the fuck?"

You don't know if that Sumin's first verbal reaction since your whole focus remains on your task at hand, the feeling of Seung's cock laying so perfectly on your tongue and the tip hitting the back of your throat with each of his thrusts taking over your senses but you donmt even try to hide just how much you love it.

After having to deal with her stupid messages and random calls you've finally had enough. You didn't want to give her the memory of a voicemail, a video or a picture and as you imagine her face of shock and envy, you can help but let out a soft hum with your lips still firmly wrapped around your boyfriend's cock.

"I love you so much", Heeseung suddenly grunts, his lids pressed shut, neck and face completely flushed and from the way his knuckles have started turning white you can tell just how much he's trying to hold himself back.

"My pretty little princess, my everything."

Maybe it's the thought of him being just as into your attempt of claiming him or maybe it's just how honest and genuine his words sound despite his current state of pleasure, yet either way you can't help but pull away with a loud gasp to look up at him.

You never once stop stroking him, the mixture of your spit and his precum enough to make you feel sloppy and as if he could feel your eyes on him, Heeseung slowly opens his own to meet your gaze with a lazy smile.

"Did you hear that?"

Thise words aren't directed at you, but Heeseung confidently refuses to shift his gaze away from your face, gently caressing your heated cheek with his hand before he wipes away your saliva from your chin.

"You're fucking disgusting."

It'd be a lie if you said her response didn't surprise you a little. You kind of expected her to either cry or having hung up by now, knowing she's still listening just boosts your ego even further.

"Thanks", Heeseung grunts and takes your face into his big hands, wordlessly telling you to take a deep breath right before he slowly pushes his cock into your mouth and all the way down your throat.

"F-Fuck, that's my perfect girl. Nobody does it like you, Y/N. You're so fucking good."

You can tell just how much your boyfriend enjoys claiming you in such a lewd and intimate manner, the thought of him being into your possessiveness like this making the whole process of deepthroating him even easier for you and with tears streaming down your cheeks you casually start swallowing around him.

"Oh, sh-shit", his voice is hoarse and raspy from his constant whimpers and moans, a sound so beautiful you never want to hear anything else in your life, "you're all I ever wanted, angel girl. My biggest dream come true, fuck."

As your head slowly starts spinning from the lack of oxygen, your can't help but whimper in response to his sweet confession and just as you pull away to gasp for air, Heeseung's whole body tenses up in a way too familiar manner.

"Look at me, princess. Wanna cum all over that pretty face and then do the same in that perfect little cunt."

Heeseung's words are lewd and unhinged, slmething you've grown way too used to in these past few weeks but for some reason yiu seem to find comfort and confidence in them.

With a soft smile you pull away just enough to look up at him, your lips parted, tongue sticking out and your eyes never once shifting away from his face to make sure you get the best view of his perfect features contorting in pleasure when he finally reaches his much needed relief.

"Fuck you both."

That's the last thing Sumin basically screams into the phone and as if he had waited for her to end the call, Heeseung stumbles head first into the waves of his climax and finishes all over your face without a single touch and your name the only thing to fall past his swollen lips; three thick spurts of his creamy cum covering most of your cheeks as well as your top lip.

"You're fucking perfect", Heeseung sighs once he manages to catch his breath, instinctively collecting his cum from your face and casually pushing it into your mouth, just to lose his mind at the way you seem to genuinely enjoy the taste of his relief.

"But now it's my turn, right, princess?"

You don't know what exactly you've expected when hearing those words, yet your boyfriend pushing your face intk the mattress and eating you out for exactly an hour definitely wasn't it. After your fourth orgasm you genuinely can't hold back the tears any longer; the overstimulation leaving your whole body in a constant state of high pressure and with soft sobs you basically beg Heeseung to finally fuck you.

But he wouldn't be true to himself if he didn't get back at you for your little remarks and comments, which is why your boyfriend is more than just determined to push you into the absolute depth of your pleasure with every single one of his thrusts. By the time you feel like you're actually about to pass out, you've long lost count on your orgasms, whereas Heeseung just gives you enough time to breathe so he can make sure you reach your seventh high of the night together.

And as he realises that you've actually blacked out from the overstimulation, Seungie can't help but smile cheekily, no matter how worried he is. And just as expected it doesn't take you longer than a minute to wake up, drool running down your chin, tears finding their way down your cheeks as you physically struggle to keep your eyes open.

"Petty bitch", you hiss and try your best not to move, yet your whole body cringing at the feeling of his thick cum soilling out if your overly sensitive cunt, "all I did was tease you a little. You did not have to do all of this."

Heeseung throws his head back and lets out a row of chuckles, his whole body flushed and coated in the thinnest layer of sweat, a sight so perfect you actually feel like you're dreaming.

"I love you so fucking much", you whisper against his lips and pull him closer to your body, actually craving the feeling of his skin against yours despite the oast three hours of physical intimacy.

And as Heeseung allows himself to take in the way you're looking at him, he actually feels tears pricking at the corners of his eyes; gratitude and disbelief meeting in the midst of his chest when he realises that his dreams have actually become reality.

"I'm so in love with you", he whispers and casually ignores how his voice breaks at the end of his sentence, "my first and only love."

After almost a decade of denying, suppressing and ignoring his feelings, Heeseung has finally found his way home and life has never, ever felt as good as this.

← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →

(A/N: and this marks the last written chapter for poison, i'm absolutely NOT crying (been tearing up throughout the whole writing process) and i honestly dont even know what to say except i hope you guys liked it and know how much i love and appreciate you all. aending everyone the fattest kiss. feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!!!🥺🩷🧸)

TAGLIST CLOSED: @soonigiri @thvhannie @enhaz1 @kpoprhia @abrazosolorcereza @deobitifull @mixtape-racha @certifiedmoa @jungwon-xo @hoonieluv @enhamysunshines @jaehoonii @pussyslayerhd @ineedsomezzz @neocockthotology @heerinnie @onionzzzs @hee-pster @3amstarlight @xxxxrvexxxx @primroselover @mimikittysblog @iea-tsand @lhspeachie @xiaoderrrr @viagumi @smg-valeria @kells5595 @heeseunghee7 @xrvrqs @ddazed-lhs @heebrry @fakeuwus @dammit-jjk @ivyannemarie @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @s00buwu

#enhypen social media au #enhypen smau #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #lee heeseung x reader #heeseung smut #lee heeseung social media au #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung smut #heeseung social media au

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moonstruckme · 7 months

Note

Hi! I am absolutely in love with your writing! The way you portray our boys is just *chefs kiss*

Anywho, I was wondering if I could request poly!marauders x plus size reader? Maybe she is very confident until somebody picks on her and she starts becoming obsessed with dieting and stuff. (I'm struggling a lot with that rn) just a bunch of worry and comfort from our boys.

If you don't feel comfortable writing this or just the prompt I gave it's okay. Ily!♡

Hi, thanks for requesting my love! I'm really sorry you're struggling right now, I know how hard it can be and hope you're doing your best to take good care of yourself. You're beautiful just as you are <33

cw: size insecurity, behavior that hints at disordered eating

poly!marauders x plus size!reader ♡ 1.2k words

The worst part is, you know they weren’t even really trying to insult you.

You smiled as best you could, said your thanks politely, and moved on. Moved on outwardly, that is. Inside, the words play over and over in your head, like a song on the radio that gets worse each time you listen to it. It wasn’t that they were vicious, or particularly clever, or even wrong. It’s just, you’re not used to people commenting on your body like that.

You know you’re not skinny. So does everyone else. Neither of you typically feel the need to confer about it. Every now and again, some cruel busybody will say something, but that’s fairly easy to brush off. They’re insecure about their own looks, they have nothing better to do than fixate on strangers’ appearances, they’ve probably been on diet pills since they were twelve. You wish them well and mostly forget about it. But what’s worse is when someone comes to you with good intentions. The idea of being perceived as pitiful or wrong—really, having your physical form perceived at all—by someone who seems to want the best for you is what really hurts. That’s what makes you want to hide, to shrink yourself down until they can’t see you anymore. To become the invisible status quo.

It’s why, over the last few days, anything skintight or remotely showy has been relegated to the back of your closet in favor of things that hide your figure. Why you’ve stopped drawing attention to yourself with colorful makeup and instead started focusing on your health. Well, your health as it presents itself externally.

“Anyone else fancy a dessert?” Sirius muses as you sit reading on the couch, Remus reading the next book in the series beside you.

“Um, no,” James says, holding up a hand of cards from the game he and Sirius have been playing, “you only want to go so you don’t have to stick around and lose.”

“Whatever my other, subconscious motives may be,” Sirius says guilelessly, “I really feel like something chocolate. Don’t you, Moons?”

That’s always a safe bet. Remus looks up from his book, intrigued. “I could go for some chocolate.”

Sirius grins. “What about you, gorgeous?”

That’s usually a safe bet too. But you shouldn’t. “Thanks, but I’m still full from dinner.”

Sirius looks cheated, and Remus cocks his head at you. “Really? Didn’t seem like you ate much.” He’s not wrong. Remus had made the most incredible feta pasta, it was borderline heartbreaking to leave any on your plate. But you’re trying to practice restraint, and thankfully, James had happily taken care of your leftovers for you. “Did you have a late lunch or something?”

“Mhm.”

James looks up, eyebrows furrow bemusedly behind his glasses. “No you didn’t, angel. You said you didn’t feel like lunch after we had breakfast together, remember?”

“Oh.” You nod. So what? You’d had a late breakfast, and a decently sized dinner, and why do you really need more than two meals anyway? Who made that rule? You’re a bit hungry, but your body just needs time to adjust to your new routine. It’s used to overindulging. And nothing about today means you deserve dessert. “Right.”

Sirius wraps his fingers delicately around your ankle, smoothing a path up your shin with his palm. “Darling,” he says, and he looks distracted as he runs his fingers over the old scars on your knee, but you know him well enough to recognize when he’s keyed in, “did you eat anything today, other than breakfast and that little bit of dinner? Any snacks or anything?”

You can’t help the little rush of pride that goes through you. “No.”

Sirius doesn’t look proud. In fact, he’s frowning, as are Remus and James. You change tactics. “I’m not really hungry, though.”

“No?” Sirius' voice is unsettlingly gentle. “Why don’t you want to have dessert tonight, pretty girl?”

“Because,” you say, beginning to feel defensive (though you’re not sure of what), “I don’t need it.”

“It’s not about need, though,” James says, and why is it beginning to feel like you’re in an argument? “It’s about what you want. Do you want a little something sweet?”

“I…” Yes. The answer is yes, but do you want it more than you want to feel good about yourself? “I think what I want more is to prove to myself that I can go without it.”

Remus’ scars shift as his face scrunches in concern. “Dove,” he says, and you can’t decide if his tone is more reprimand or pity. You don’t like either option. “Where is this coming from?”

“I’m just…I’m trying something new,” you decide. “I want to lose a little weight, okay? Nothing crazy.”

“But why?” James sets down his cards, looking completely befuddled. “Angel, you’re gorgeous. You can do whatever you want, but we love you just like you are.”

“And,” Sirius adds before you can reply, “we love you most when you’re happy. I sort of thought,” he says, lowering his voice like he’s telling you a secret, “that our late-night treat runs made you happy. No?”

“They do.” You pull your legs up onto the couch, away from Sirius’ touch. “I just…I think it would make me happy to be a more normal size, too.”

Remus looks gutted. “Honey, you…it’s your body, and you should do whatever feels right for you to be healthy, but…we love you like this,” he insists, ardent. “You’re beautiful, I mean it, and I hate the idea that you might want to change for…well, for anyone other than yourself.”

You hesitate. You’re not actually sure who you’re doing this for. When had you become one of the people who want for you to be smaller so desperately? “You seriously don’t think I would look better if I were thinner?” You’ve never been one to put much stock into what any men think of your appearance, so you feel silly for asking, but you’re in a vulnerable state. And really, don’t all guys want a girl that looks like the love interests in the movies you all grew up with?

James looks you in the eye, letting you see the earnestness in his as he says, “You’re absolutely lovely, right here, right now. We wouldn’t change a thing.”

Your answering smile is oddly watery. Remus makes an awfully lovely cooing sound, leaning over to wrap an arm around your waist and paying no mind to the chub there as he pulls you into his side. “Don’t be upset, darling. You know what I bet will cheer you up?” He smiles as you look up at him questioningly, kissing between your brows. “Some chocolate. How would you feel about that?”

You let out a quiet little laugh. “Pretty good.”

“Yes!” Sirius pumps his fist in the air, already abandoning his cards and standing up. “I knew you’d come through, gorgeous. Now I think the more pressing question is, do we want chocolate pastries or chocolate ice cream?”

“Ice cream, obviously,” James says. “Before it gets so cold out we don’t feel like it.”

“Not all of us suffer from weather constraints,” Sirius argues. “I vote pastry.”

“Why would you bring ice cream up if you didn’t want it? Think long and hard, Pads. Are you going to feel like a frozen dessert when you need three layers to go outside in a few weeks?”

Remus rolls his eyes at you as you follow them out the door, letting your boys continue their bickering all the way to the store.

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ilguna · 7 months

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I love your work! Could I please get #17 of list 2 with Haymitch? I was thinking it could be a nightmare from the games or going into the reaping for the 75th? Thank you 💜

☼ history repeats itself (Haymitch Abernathy) ☼

warnings; swearing, death mention, alcohol use.

wc; 1.6k

prompt; 17. "Hey, listen to me. You're safe. Nothing is going to hurt you."

—

The last time Haymitch was himself was the night of the reading of the card for the Third Quarter Quell, which happened in the winter. He hasn’t been the same person since, but you weren’t really expecting him to be.

The horror that President Snow presented in front of the entirety of Panem had shook him, and every other victor across the country that thought they were safe. You remember sitting with him in silence on the couch. When you looked at him, it was clear to you that he was slipping away.

It hadn’t even been five minutes since the news reached your ears.

Haymitch stood up from the couch without a word, walking from the living room into the kitchen. You didn’t have to turn around to know what he was about to do. You couldn’t blame him, either. You didn’t even think to hold it against him.

He slammed open the window, you jumped at the noise, and he muttered an apology. The first breeze that came through was nice, it seemed to calm the warmth that had crossed your skin. You looked over to find him pulling a bottle of white liquor out of the cupboard, reaching to open it.

There was a series of hard knocks on the door, you got to your feet to answer it, but it was already swinging open. It was Peeta, a string of apologies leaving his lips for barging in. In the next breath, he was addressing Haymitch, and it wasn’t for what you’d thought it would be.

Peeta started to beg Haymitch to allow him to go inside of the arena again. He didn’t want Haymitch to interfere, to let the reaping run its course. He said that if Haymitch were drawn, he’d volunteer. But if he was drawn, Haymitch wasn’t allowed to lift a finger. He wanted to go back into the arena if it meant that Katniss would be.

You watched as Haymitch cracked the seal on the bottle, taking a long drink of it, before walking over to the dining room table to set it down. “I’m not going to make any deals, Peeta.”

It started out as them talking civilly, and then it began to fade into an argument. With Peeta telling Haymitch that since he protected Katniss the first time around, that meant he owed Peeta. Anything. And Peeta wanted a chance to go into the arena again.

By the time Peeta left, Haymitch was a quarter of the way through his bottle. When Katniss showed up, he was halfway in, drunk. You were sitting at the table with him, asking him if there was any way he could get out of this. You knew what the answer was already, you were just hoping it wasn’t true.

He did what he always does with Katniss—antagonize her. He asked her if she was there to ask him to go back inside of the arena for Peeta. She denied it and sat down with you two, drinking from his bottle. And then, instead of suggesting for him to volunteer, she said she wanted Peeta to be saved from the arena, no matter the situation.

It was only when Haymitch agreed to this, did she leave. The next day, Peeta came by and dumped all of the liquor in the house down the drain. He told you that neither you or Haymitch were allowed to buy it from Ripper down at the Hob—not that he thought you would, anyway.

If you’re being honest, you thought that his whole plan to get Haymitch to train alongside him and Katniss would last a few weeks at best. It wasn’t until the three of them started to show signs of improvement, did you believe that Haymitch wasn’t going to slip back into his habits.

Still, his attitude about the situation hasn’t changed in the past six months, and it’s grown worse over the past week, leading up to today. When you woke up this morning, you were expecting him to say anything about the reaping that will be taking place in the matter of hours. Instead, he pulled himself out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom.

You’ve kept a close eye on him all morning, something you’re sure he doesn’t appreciate very much. You don’t know what else to do. You tried to pretend like everything was alright, when he picked up on it, he asked you to stop. Every attempt you make at conversation falls short.

It’s like he wants to revel in the doom cloud above him. And who are you to tell him otherwise? If you were in his place, you’re sure you’d do the same. He’s the first victor of District Twelve, and he was a tribute in the last Quarter Quell. If there’s anyone that’s earned a right to silence this morning, it’s him.

That doesn’t mean it’s any easier to see him this way.

“Are you almost ready?” Haymitch asks.

You look into the mirror to see where he’s standing, finding that he’s in the bathroom doorway. You tilt your head to the side as you slide the earring into place. “Almost.”

He nods, turning his body halfway to leave, and then he changes his mind. He leans against the frame, head tilted downward to look at the ground. He’s dressed nicely, considering the situation. You’re even able to see the muscles that he’s built up from training. The only thing he’s missing is his blazer, but if he doesn’t have it in his hands already, that means he’s not planning on bringing it.

“I wish I could go with you.” You tell him, rising from your stool in front of the mirror.

Haymitch’s eyes snap up. “No, you don’t, (Y/n).”

“If it means that you don’t leave me, I do.” You close the drawers, and then begin to walk in his direction.

“You’re safer here.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.” You murmur. “I’m ready.”

He lets your comment slide, not wanting to fight. The two of you leave his Victor home, going down the steps. He shuts the door behind him and doesn’t stop to lock it. Usually, you’d say something about it, but you’ll be coming back here after you bid him goodbye at the train station. You’ll have the house to yourself for the next few weeks while the Victor’s battle it out in an arena.

You barely make it out of the neighborhood before you’re pulling his hand into yours, squeezing tightly. He glances in your direction, you catch it out of the corner of your eye. Your head is facing the other way, not wanting him to see your face, and the frown that’s struggling to settle on your mouth. You won’t let it.

What you’re feeling is selfishness and guilt. You hope that Haymitch gets his name drawn first, and you hope that Peeta goes through with volunteering. You don’t want today to be your last day with him. You want him to go to the Capitol as a mentor so that you’ll be able to see him again.

This isn’t fair.

The walk to the Justice Building from Victor’s Village only takes a few minutes. From a distance, you can see the crowd that has gathered around the stage. This year, since there is no giant pool of young teenagers, it’s doubled in size.

Haymitch stops you, letting out a shaky breath.

You raise your eyebrows, eyes watching his face. He presses his lips together, breathing quicker, eyes locked on the stage.

“Hey, listen to me.” You squeeze his hand. “You’re safe, nothing is going to hurt you.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about, (Y/n).” He tells you. “I don’t want to lose you, the same way I lost them.”

Your face twists, confused for a moment, until it dawns on you. You haven’t been with Haymitch for long, only about two and a half years now. You’ve seen who he was before Katniss and Peeta, and heard his mindset because of what President Snow did to him.

In the beginning of your relationship, it felt like he was doing everything in his power to hide his history from you. It wasn’t because he was ashamed of it, he just wasn’t prepared for your reaction when he told you all of it. You knew the basics, the stuff everyone knows about his Games.

It was the aftermath of it that was hidden.

At the end of his Games, the Career girl had thrown her axe at him, and Haymitch collapsed because of the wound on his stomach, causing her to miss. The axe flew over the cliff, but came shooting back up, lodging in her skull.

Supposedly, they saw this act from Haymitch as one of rebellion. He was crowned Victor, and two weeks later, his mom, younger brother and girlfriend were all killed in retaliation. He tells you that he tried to put an effort into mentoring, but it was hard to exist everyday without aid. When he figured that he was never going to get a winning tribute, he turned to drinking, and stopped trying altogether.

This is what he must’ve been thinking about all morning.

You pull Haymitch in by your hands to hug him. He places his face in your neck, breathing in deeply.

“You’re not going to lose me. I’m going to be right here when you get back, Haymitch.” You tell him. “They can’t take me away from you.”

“I’ll be back, (Y/n).” He pulls you closer.

“I know.”

this is part of my 3k celebration!! you can join until the cure is released on Oct, 31st at midnight!!

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