#at least this way they won’t break a window or whatever on the way to seeing that you have nothing

[mylittleredgirl]

obviously don't put your home address in the tags and invite people to steal your car but here's today's curiosity poll

this ain’t that scientific so there’s no official dividing line between urban/suburban/small town/rural just decide that with your heart

#small town girl here but when i had a New Car in a city i always locked it #and my locks got drilled 🤷‍♀️ and literally couldn’t be fixed without replacing the doors and trunk #so like girl why if someone wants in your car they’ll get in #at least this way they won’t break a window or whatever on the way to seeing that you have nothing

[moonit3]

THE PERFECT LOVER!

➥ warnings/notices: yandere, violence, obsession, codependency, blood, murder, gender neutral reader but you are into guys only, axel is a little sh*t at first but then becomes a yandere, reader’s ingenuity, implied depression, slow burn, stalking, obsession.

➥ yandere! rent-a-boyfriend x gn! reader

➥ synopsis: desperate to be loved after rejections and being stand up numerous times, you hire a rent-a-boyfriend to delude yourself that someone actually loves you.

➥ a/n: with the poll done, here the post choose by you guys! for the story, i think i got this idea from the rent-a-girlfriend manga? but the story is pretty boring and don’t lead to anywhere as every character dumb ^ ^ , so i have decided to write something based on this plot with yandere, blood and some violence. this piece won’t have any smut on it, sorry. this work is longer than my others, aware.

➥ like every start of the weekend, you are left to be alone at a friday night that you believed to be the day that you were going to meet your soulmate, but that was wrong. turns out the guy isn’t coming up for this second date as he texted, sorry. but you aren’t as attractive as I thought you would be!, resulting in you paying the drink you ordered was you were waiting for him to show up and walking back home.

➥ arriving home, you just throw yourself into the bed, ignoring the cute clothes and makeup you put on to impress that idiot, that doesn’t matter with the tears already flowing down to your chest. why this keep happening to you? all people you know or see in the streets are happily living their lives with someone at their side, even having children after years of being together. but you, you didn’t even got to the second phase of dating nor a boyfriend, all guys would just ghost you after the first date (if they even bother to show up).

➥ could it be that you are destined to be alone? your heart is breaking piece by piece with every failure that lead you to a final attempt in order to make you feel less lonely, a rent-a-partner dating site. it’s really bad that you are hiring someone to pretend to be your love, your are paying them to make up for your loneliness. you are quite pathetic, right?

➥ scrolling at the numerous pages full of candidates, you came across one that easily called your attention. axel, auburn hair with freckles all over his face and of course, a cute smile! the picture itself made you blush and already imagine the millions scenarios with him. a picnic at the park, maybe a shopping date where he buys you the jewelry you always wanted or even holding your hands! stay chill, [name]. he is a rent-a-boyfriend, not a real one, he is getting paid for it.

➥ and you did hire him for a completely service next day, your heart start beating faster and you couldn’t help but spend some hours preparing the perfect set of clothes to impress axel. something that is both casual, yet classy to give him the impression that you aren’t desperate for this nor that you never had a properly relationship before, nah, you are just trying to forget about your exe (at least that what you’ve told in your bio).

➥ once the day finally arrives, you put the best clothes from your wardrobe and waits for axel to show up at the cafe where the date will be set. sitting next to the glass window, taking a sip your favorite drink, he arrives. the redhead boy sit in front of you with that smile on the face, already acting and analyzing you from head and toes, oh god. he is even handsome in person!

➥ the date start so good! he is truly a gentleman with his manner and his acting is amazing, the way he holds your hand at every moment and how he pays attention in whatever you are talking is more than enough to make you blush. you feel lucky to have hired a guy like him, he truly makes the experience feels to real that you ended paying him more just to stay a little longer than you planned at first, and of course, he made it worth it.

➥ when his job was done, axel walked you back home despite not having do it, but he did and even hold your hand in the way. he said it’s to protect you from any possible danger or guy that might try to flirt with you, making you blush more and more (his plan is working!). once you got home, he kissed your forehead and waited until you got inside to leave with that smile of his, happy that everything is working out perfectly.

➥ to you, he is the perfect boyfriend that you always wish to have since the very moment you learn about romance, that’s why you are going to hire him more. and to axel, you are more than willingly to pay more than usual just to him pretending to be your boyfriend, aren’t you a little silly? you must be really lonely to have hired him from that stupid site, but he isn’t complaining, after all, you are the one paying him.

➥ then more and more dates happen, axel pretending to be your boyfriend while you began to truly falling in love with him, completely forgetting that he is just with you for the money and ranks of the enterprise he is part of, yet it’s easy to notice that you believe that axel is in love with you, that he will stop being a rent-a-boyfriend to become your real boyfriend. so you propose it to him after many dates, only to be rejected.

➥ his laughs are tormenting your mind and his words are unforgettable. you really thought that i loved you? you are so funny, [name] and quite pathetic too. do you really thought that i would stay with you if wasn’t the amount of money you spend on me? you are delusional for thinking that you are worth of my love. with that, you ended the contract with axel and leaves him immediately with tears ruining your makeup and clothes. he expected that you would apologize to him, but no, you blocked him from your social medias and deleted the photos that you posted with him. despite being his highest paying client, axel moved on to others clients and you moved on to find someone else.

➥ a couple of weeks passed and he couldn’t stop thinking about you at all. the expression you gave him whatever he would surprise you, the small gifts you gave him that he always wanted and the kisses you two share when it was his time to leave. why is thinking about it? you were just a client like everyone else, but why you are in his mind? he needs to stop thinking about you. so he began taking even more to job in an attempt to forget you.

➥ it was working until he catch a glimpse of you during one his job, you are serving tables at a expensive restaurant that his date asked to come and there are visible marks of dark undertones beneath your eyes. did something happened to you? he wants to ask it, but that would ruin the date and he won’t get his payment, so he keeps to himself and tries to pay attention on the woman that hired him.

➥ at some point of the date, he excused himself to go the bathroom, where he got hear some faint sounds coming from the kitchen and of course, he wanted to check it. there, he saw you hugging another coworker of yours in tears and your voice broken him, the way you spoke to your friend about being stupid enough to think that you are worth of love and how you are never going to fall in love again. axel knew that he did hurt you, but never expected it to hurt you so much to make you feel horrible…he needed to apologize.

➥ after his date, axel wait for you at the back doors and as expected, you were there, but weren’t alone. there is another guy standing next to you, someone he recall to be another waiter of the restaurant, someone who is too close of you with a arm around your waist. you replaced him? no, you can’t do it. axel began to talk, at least try, about his mistake and how he will repay for all the things you did for him, he even knee on the ground to ask for your forgiveness for his acts.

➥ it’s embarrassing that he is asking forgiveness from someone he treated like trash, but axel has to do it to beg for your forgiveness and to get back together with him, this time to become a real couple til their last breath on earth. i know that i was an idiot, a fucking horrible person and that y-you deserve someone better than me, but i promise that i have changed to be someone better just for you! let me become your boyfriend, a real one this time and then we get married one day , have a family if you want and grown old together. and he spoken even more til he loses his voice.

➥ you didn’t speak, not able to talk for hearing so much of axel’s rambling, but you did slap him harder. he is acting like he is the victim in this situation and that made you yell at him for a couple of minutes til you were done. the emotion you put in your voice made axel cry of guilt and once you left him along your friend, the redhead began rethinking about the ‘relationship’ you two shared weeks ago. it was so perfect and he ruined that.

➥ after that, axel began stalking you in his free time and leaving gifts for you in your doorsteps, hoping that you would accept his handwriting notes full of apologies and money, only to be left devastated when you didn’t even bother open the letter and throw it away in the trash. but he didn’t give up, no, he still has hope to change your heart and accept him once again.

@moonit3 writings

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere male x reader #yandere original character #yandere writing #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x you #tw yandere #yandere headcanon #yandere x y/n #yandere x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #my oc axel #yandere rent a boyfriend #➥·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ moon writings

[perlelune]

Training Wheels | Coriolanus Snow | iv.

Your mother's macabre work never appealed to you as you always preferred the comfort of your books, but when her apprentice takes a special interest in you, your safe, quiet world is flipped upside down.

Warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, Gaul!Reader, Shy Reader, Manipulation, Parental Neglect, Drinking, Peer Pressure, Hazing, University set, Loss of Virginity, Dumbification, Insecurities, Abusive Relationship, Degradation, Suicide Attempt

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

“Oh, do you mind if we take a little break?” Clemensia asks almost as soon as you’ve begun working on the task she gave you. You blink, a little confused as your gaze roams across the table. There’s still so much to do. You’re not sure if the girls are just that slow but it’s clear that it will take at least a few hours to get all of it done.

But Clemensia is in charge of the ball committee. You don’t picture yourself telling her what to do or how to do it. After all, you are an outsider. A foreign element infiltrating their ecosystem. You have to play by their rules.

If they want to take a break, who are you to argue with that?

You begin to rise.

“Oh, a break, sure…”

Clemensia’s lips pinch as you try to follow them. “It’s just that…we’ve been doing this for so long, all by ourselves. I even broke a nail.” She pouts, showing you her hands. “But it needs to be finished today.” She nibbles her bottom lip and sighs, eyes pleading yours. “If no one stays behind…”

You mull it over. While you’re not thrilled over the idea of working on the decorations by yourself, you did just get here. You suppose you could hold the fort while they stretch their legs…or whatever Clemensia and her friends like to do when they hang out.

“I guess I could stay,” you concede.

Clemensia flashes you a broad grin.

“You’re so sweet,” she chimes. “Thank you. We won’t be long, promise. Ten minutes tops.”

You shrug and return to your chair. Ten minutes. That sounds reasonable. You pick up the scissors and start cutting more of the tree shapes. 

“No problem.”

But one issue arises. 

The promised ten minutes expand into thirty. Then an hour. Then two. At first, you don’t let your mind dissect it too hard. It’s a stupid thing to overthink, isn’t it? A silly thing to chop into pieces until your mind bleeds with doubt and insecurity. You surmise it was more of an approximation. People do that all the time, say something while meaning another. At least you believe they do. Besides, you find ways to keep yourself busy, even getting started on the sparkly globes lying on the side of the room. You figure out how to use most of the tools on your own and get wrapped in your own bubble of quietness. 

Silence is a familiar companion, the one constant that never judged you, never asked for more of you. In your Silence, you get to be you. Nothing more; nothing less. So you let yourself sink in its warm, snug embrace.

Still, somewhere in the back of your mind, thoughts meander passively… What is taking them so long? You steal a glance outside the window. Orange and purple hues are already bleeding into the sky, a sign of the evening nearing its end. 

You retrieve your pocket watch from inside your skirt. A frown wrinkles your brow. At a time like this, you would usually be home, curled up with Walter on your bed as you go over your notes for the week. It often takes you hours just to decipher the course transcripts. 

“Wow, you did such a great job,” Clemensia whistles from behind you. 

You gasp and whirl. All smiles, the girls fill your sight.

They approach the table and examine some of the decorations you put together on your own. Realization sweeps through you as the fog of your thoughts clear. It didn’t hit you before, not until you absorbed the current state of the crafts table, brimming with the results of your solitary labor. You’ve been busy. Spinning crystal balls, pine cones, silvery garlands and a heap of snowflakes meant to hang on the walls and ceiling. Clemensia admires your handiwork, seemingly impressed. 

A little peeved, you point out, “I mean…had you guys even started? Most of the decorations needed to be cut, glued or assembled…”

“I have delicate hands,” Livia sighs, examining her manicured nails. 

“I’m very slow, sorry,” Ivy says apologetically.

Your frown deepens. Was this whole thing a setup? You sacrificed precious time to be here and you shudder to think the entire purpose of your presence is some kind of childish prank. 

Coriolanus’ words echo in your mind. He argued the girls weren’t like that and that they left the immature tricks back at the Academy. You truly want to believe that none of this is designed to embarrass you, that perhaps, again, all of this is in your head. But your aching fingers, sore from doing crafts most of the afternoon, suggestotherwise.

Unleashing a sigh, you gather your satchel and head towards the exit. 

Clemensia obstructs your path, holding up her hands in apology. 

“I know we should have been back earlier. I’m so sorry. We ran into the Dean and it turned into a whole thing.” She seizes your hands, remorse twisting her pretty features. “I feel so horrible. I invited you so we could do it together as friends.”

Your shoulders slump. As you soak in the look of genuine contrition on her face, doubts lurk inside you. Your confidence about being the victim of some prank wavers. Perhaps, you overreacted. Incidents happen. Besides, the chances of you joining Clemmie’s committee are slim, as you’re already swamped with assignments. A promise was made and you kept it. But this likely will be a one time thing. School dances are at the bottom of your priority list right now.

So you discard it all with a wave of your hand and a contrived smile.

“It’s okay. No apology needed. It’s not your fault.” You note how much darker it’s gotten outside. “I should go back home though. It’s already so late-”

Clemensia stops you again, her hand tightening around yours as she offers excitedly, “Wait, you should come to game night at Liv’s.”

“What?” Livia snickers. Clemensia shoots her a withering glare and the blonde clears her throat, correcting herself, “I mean…yeah, you totally should come.”

You fidget and adjust the strap of your satchel. You may have heard whispers of those game nights. Mystique surrounds them as only a few chosen people are invited to attend. You, of course, were never invited. And it isn’t hard to gather how Livia feels about you coming from her reaction. Why force your way into places where you aren’t wanted?

“I’m already behind on my revising for the day. If I don’t go over my Molecular-”

“Boring,” Ivy sings sarcastically.

“Don’t be mean, Ivy,” Clemensia scolds, elbowing her in the rib.

Clemensia tilts her head, her tone turning beseeching.

“Please…I really want to get to know you better.” She huffs out a long breath as she seems to sense your hesitation. The brunette leans closer, hands clutching your forearms. Sympathy twinkles in her onyx orbs. “You know, I used to be a lot like you. Always striving to be the best at everything I do.” A hollow giggle slips through her lips. “It’s how I got in trouble with your mother actually…I wanted to win so badly and she decided to teach me a lesson.” Sadness pinches her delicate features. “But by always striving for greatness, you miss out on life. I learnt that during the Games...”

“...Surviving isn’t living.”

She studies you before saying, “And it’s what you’re doing, isn’t it? Surviving.”

Eyes on the ground, you chew on your lip. You never imagined someone like Clemensia Dovecote - the most beautiful, popular girl at the University - could feel this way…let alone relate to you.

“Clemmie…”

She hunkers a little so your eyes meet.

“Come on, I really want to make up for today.” She laughs. “Show you I’m not a bitch.”

“I don’t think you’re a bitch,” you say.

She places her palm on your cheek. “See? You’re so nice. That’s why I want us to be friends.” She bends over your ear, the words she mutters almost too quiet to be heard, “I can barely stand those two on most days, but appearances must be kept.”

Your gaze swings upward, shock pulsing through you.

She beams at you. “It’ll be an intimate gathering of just a select group, close friends. We play cards, chat, and have a few drinks. That’s it.”

Your forehead creases.

“I don’t drink.”

Squeezing your shoulders, she assures you, “Then I’ll make sure not a drop of alcohol passes your lips. Promise.”

“It’s casual, I swear. You can even leave early if you want.” 

This grabs your attention, as you aren’t sure you’ll make it through the night without craving to return to the safe, familiarity of your apartment. The potential for escape makes the offer far more enticing.

Obviously, Clemensia cares about you showing up. While you don’t fully grasp why, you also never had anyone go out of their way to spend time with you. During the Academy days, everyone avoided you like the plague, either finding you odd or fearing you were as terrifying as your mother. The University doesn’t seem much different so far, groups having already formed from previous camaraderie. Bonds that were forged years ago and cemented over time while you endured in the back of the class. The forgotten one. And you always figured it is the most you can aspire for. Being ignored and left alone.

Until now.

“Really?”

Clemensia’s smile widens.

“Yes. You can stay as long as you want and leave.”

“I don’t have anything to wear to a party,” you muse, pursing your lips. Your tiny, limited wardrobe has always prioritized function over fashion. There are your Academy uniforms, a few loose, unflattering clothes you rotate between. A single formal dress more suited for a funeral than a game night. Nothing impressive because you never had anyone to impress.

You also have no sense of fashion, the trends shifting too quickly for you to keep up. So you’ve stopped trying to. 

“Don’t worry. We’ll figure something out,” she chimes. “The girls and I always get ready at each other’s house anyway. And you’re one of the girls now.”

You peer down at you and Clemensia’s entwined hands. One of the girls. No one’s ever spoken about you that way. As if your mere presence made something better, uplifting it instead of leading it to its ruin. As if you were solid, more than a wisp of air, a waste of breath. As if you mattered. So, despite the sizzling weight of Livia’s blue eyes on you, you smile back at Clemmie and give a bashful nod.

Your eyes feast on every detail of Clemensia’s living room as you enter her home. Her parents’ apartment is every bit as large and opulent as you imagined. Every exquisite detail screams wealth. The unabashed, showy kind that stoked the embers of bitter unfairness in the Districts, leading the Capitol to where it is today. A city risen from the ashes. Your attention lingers on the expensive artwork exposed in glass cabinets. A lot of it appears to be memorabilia from before the war. You’re willing to bet the combined value of every overpriced trinket in the house could feed an entire District. Paintings of Clemmie’s illustrious ancestors hang over the damask walls, their stern stares seeming to follow you. Almost as if they were ready to leap from the eroded gilded frames and berate you for being an intruder in their family home.

Clemensia tugs you along.

“What are you dawdling for? Come on,” she urges. 

You trail behind her as she takes you to her bedroom. You smile when you see it. The somber, tasteful hues are so very her. The hinges of her wardrobe whine as she opens the large, wooden doors. A vertiginous row of clothes crowd your sight. You gawk, a little amazed but also slightly terrified. Who needs this many clothes? A sour expression scrunches her features.

“I know,” she sighs, placing a hand on her hip. “This is a little embarrassing. Most of these are soo last season.”

You tilt your head at her dizzying collection of shoes, clothes, accessories…the kind a legion of girls would kill for.

“Right,” you blindly agree. Nevermind you can’t even tell the difference. You glance around. “Shouldn’t Livia and Ivy be here too?”

Her brow twitches as she sits on her massive canopy bed. She pats the spot next to her and you awkwardly plop down. The plush silk and soft mattress dip under your weight.

“We decided to meet later,” she reveals. She pauses, a heavy sigh fluttering through her painted red lips before adding, “Besides, I told them to be nicer to you and they got upset and pretended not to know what I was talking about.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble.

She waves her manicured hand dismissively.

“No, don’t be. This isn’t your fault.” Clemensia licks her lips, her face etched with reflection, as if she were assessing the weight of her words before releasing them. Her hand settles on your arm.

“Look, here’s the thing. Livia’s had a crush on Coriolanus since he returned and they had a sort of fling.” Your mouth drops open. This is news to you. You didn’t catch any hint of lingering longing between the two back at their lunch table. But now that you’re mulling it over, perhaps…Perhaps, Livia’s eyes kept seeking Coriolanus’, while his treaded their own path, never crossing hers. “Things were going pretty well...for a little while. But then, you came along.”

Your brows furrow. “What does this have to do with anything?”

Clemensia’s bell-like laughter resonates in the room.

“God, you’re a sweet thing…just like Snow said.” She beams at you. “Don’t worry. Liv will get over it. She’s all bark and no bite, trust me.”

Her attention travels to the dark fabric peeking from your bag.

“What’s that?” she asks, pulling out the garment.

“The only dress I have.”

She inspects it with a displeased frown.

“Were you planning on wearing this?” She shakes her head as your mouth clamps shut. “Oh, this will not do.”

She takes your hand and drags you to her wardrobe. Brow wrinkled in concentration, she rummages through a numberless heap of garments.

“I have some clothes that my cousin left,” she explains while frantically searching. After a while, victory flares in her orbs. She unhooks a sleek, crimson dress with a tight bodice and flowing sleeves from a hanger. She holds it against your body, chiming, “She’s about your size so they should fit you.” 

“I can’t accept this, Clemmie.”

You attempt to push her hands away but the brunette shoves it in your arms, insisting on you at least trying it on. You press the soft fabric between your fingers. It’s more revealing and form-fitting than you’re used to. You gather it would cling to your body like a second skin…one you aren’t used to wearing. Still, you must admit that it’s a lovely dress. One that could look good even on you. Temptation claws at your resolve, digging deeper and deeper grooves, right into every insecurity you ever had. That thing other girls had that always eluded you. That little secret you were never privy to. The key to that door that never opened. The dress is the key. And you find yourself unable to resist turning the lock to find out what secrets lie beyond that mysterious door.

Beneath Clemmie’s eager stare, you remove your clothes and slip on the dress.

Smug satisfaction hovers on her lips as you peer at your reflection. Words fizzle out on your tongue. You are looking at a complete stranger.

Clemmie rests her chin on your shoulder. “See? I knew it.”

She then has you sit at her vanity to help you do your makeup. Do your makeup…The words sound alien even in the private confines of your thoughts.

As she draws a neat black line over your eyelids, she says, “It hasn’t been long since makeup’s returned to the Capitol again. It used to be near impossible to find.” When she’s done, she turns you towards the vanity mirror. “Those colors will bring out your eye shape and color.”

The air leaves your lungs in a quick rush. You lean closer to the mirror, once again in disbelief that you are truly looking at your own face.

Fingers twisting the delicate fabric of the dress, you pivot to Clemmie.

“Why are you so nice to me?” you blurt out.

Her eyes widen briefly before her expression softens.

“You remind me of me.”

Confusion surges through you. There is an ocean of glaring differences between you and Clemmie, one you couldn’t swim through if you tried. 

“What?”

“Believe it or not, I wasn’t always this confident.”

Your brows knit, Clemmie’s statement making little sense. If confidence wore a face and had a name, it’d be Clemensia Dovecote’s.

Gripping your shoulders, she turns your focus back onto your dolled-up appearance.

“Alright. Look in the mirror, what do you see?”

You blink. You see a girl playing dress-up, pretending, but you don’t utter those words aloud. They sound lame, even in your own head.

“Nothing,” you tritely respond, dipping your head.

She lifts your chin, moving her head to disagree.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Her eyes twinkle. “I see infinite potential. So stop selling yourself short.” Covering her mouth, she laughs. “His jaw is going to drop.”

“Whose jaw?”

She smirks at you. “You know whose jaw.”

Heat sneaks inside your face.

You fidget in the chair. It’s not like what he thinks matters, right? He is no one to you, just that boy with the unsettling blue stare who won’t leave you be for some strange reason. 

So why is there a tiny shiver of excitement coursing through your veins when the thought of him seeing you like that permeates your brain?

A vigorous gust of common sense sweeps away your wayward musings. 

You don’t care what he thinks. Of course you don’t.

“I-It’s not really my style,” you stammer as you get to your feet.

The sparkle in her onyx orbs doesn’t waver.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have a style yet…so how would you even know?”

“Shouldn’t we be at Livia’s already?” you ask, hoping to steer the conversation in another direction.

She considers you as if you were the most endearing thing in the world. She grabs your hands. “Here’s another rule. Never be on time for anything.” A haughty smirk creeps upon her red lips. “Make them wait for you, not the other way around.” She cocks her head. “One of the things about confidence is knowing that you are the sun, and standing in your orbit is a rare privilege.” She scoffs, “People should feel lucky you even bothered showing up.”

 She approaches you and touches up parts of your hair, visibly elated with the result.

“Perfect,” she trills. “Like I said…potential.”

She herself finishes getting ready. As you absently meander about her room, the doorbell chimes. 

Clemmie pauses as she applies powder on her face. She sets aside her makeup tools and escorts you to the lobby, arm threaded with yours.

“Must be our chauffeur,” she states.

Your eyes round. “You have a chauffeur?”

She cloisters herself in cryptic silence, humming as she drags you along.

When the brunette swings the door open, a towering, familiar figure darkening her doorway, time hangs still for a few seconds.

Your mouth opens wide enough to catch flies.

A smug smile unfurls on his lips.

“Angel,” he greets, gaze locking with yours as he completely ignores Clemmie.

Her sharp irritated tone shatters the spell.

“You’re late, Snow.”

Coriolanus snickers. 

“As if you’re ever on time.”

You trail behind Clemmie as she and Coriolanus keep bantering, his presence still swaddling you in sheer shock. When she tries to take the passenger seat, he drapes a placating hand over hers.

She rolls her eyes and begrudgingly heads to the back of the car.

He opens the car door for you. Recalling the fruitlessness of arguing with him, you climb into the seat. Still, saying you feel awkward riding in the front while the brunette is sulking in the backseat would be a massive understatement.

Few words can accurately describe how peculiar all of this is for you.

“You look surprised,” Coriolanus notes as he takes his own seat and slams the door shut. Your heart misses a beat when his hot breath caresses your earshell. “I did say I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

You look down at your lap. Breathing is laborious, the air in the vehicle coated with the lingering smell of his pricey cologne. You are literally choking on Coriolanus Snow with every breath you take.

“Will you just drive, Snow?” Clemmie snaps, crossing her arms.

“Relax. Patience is a virtue,” he says, not sparing her a glance, zeroing in on you instead. The drumming of your heart swells to an uproar in your ears when he reaches across your body. You hold still while he ties your seatbelt for you. Blue eyes rake over your form in brazen appraisal, his deep voice lowering. “And good things come to those who wait.”

#dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games #tbosas fanfiction #dark!coriolanus snow x reader

[back2bluesidex]

Where Do Broken Hearts Go - Chapter 5 (18+)

Pairing: Model, ex-boyfriend!Jungkook X Child psychologist, Fem!Reader X Lawyer, Single Dad!Hoseok. 

Summary: Jungkook stripped your emotions naked, left you bare in the chilly wind of despair and self-doubt with an unending heartache. You tried your hardest to move on from him, to live for yourself but failed miserably. Each night you had to come back to your empty home where memories and broken dreams were scattered all around the floor, until one day a little angel and her unbelievably beautiful father came into your life. Finally, when you find yourself healing, maybe falling too, Jungkook had to show up! Again!

Theme: Angst, pining, heartbreak, break-up, smut

Warnings: Mentions of school bullying, multiple pov changes, drinking, makeout

Word count: 4.4k+

Taglist requests are closed.

Minors and karens are not allowed in this blog

A/N: Finally!! They are kisssssinnngggg!!!

Main Masterlist

Chapters:- 

Prologue/Masterpost || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 - Finale

Jungkook should have headed home. 

He knows he should have received Jiwon’s calls and replied to her messages at least once to confirm that he is alive. 

But he couldn’t.

He couldn't think of anything else after seeing you with another man, the man that you referred to as a special client earlier. He knows he has no right to invade your personal boundaries now, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be curious or worried about you.  

What if you are wasting your life away trying to move on from him, what if your client (that didn’t look like only a client) is a pervert? 

He should be there for you. you are, afterall, much more than just his ex-girlfriend to him. 

That’s exactly what brought him to your (once shared) apartment. Even though the decision is induced by two bottles of soju and three cigarettes in a row, he doesn't regret. 

Jungkook rehearses his lines again and again. He drew a mindmap of what conversations to initiate with you once he charges straight up to your door. But even before he could head near the entryway - he sees you getting out of the same car that picked you up from Jimin’s. 

And it’s the same man that had touched you in a way he doesn’t approve of. 

He lights another cigarette as he watches the scene upfolds one after another in front of him. That man says something, you reply to him, he takes a step towards you, you take a step back, he leans down and you don’t stop him. 

Jungkook’s blood starts boiling. He throws the cigarette away and surges forward to stop whatever is going on but the car window slides down and if he is not wrong then it’s a kid who talks to the man standing with you. 

Are you flirting with a married guy now? Are you that desperate to move on? To forget him? 

Before he can understand anything, he sees you bidding them goodbye and walking away. The car leaves a little later. 

Your face still feels hot. 

For a moment you believe that all of it is a dream. There is no way Hoseok said it’s impossible to fall out of love with you. There is no way he admitted that he could do anything to make you his. There is no freaking way he was seconds away from kissing you!  

All of it is happening too fast. It’s been roughly four weeks since you met him. And it’s been a month and half since Jungkook broke up with you. 

Aren’t you moving on too fast? Are you really attracted to Hoseok or is he just a suitable rebound to you? 

These questions plague your mind. You grip your hair out of frustration. 

Hoseok can never be a rebound. That won’t be justified to him or to the kindness he has been treating you with. 

But the way you felt nervous and breathless around him a few minutes ago, the way his dark eyes managed to make you want him shamelessly - not all of it was because you desperately want to move on from your ex-boyfriend, is it? 

The doorbell rings loudly in your empty apartment and you realize you are still sitting on the couch and you haven’t even changed. 

The clock says it’s 7:40 pm and you frown at that. You wouldn’t have visitors on a Saturday during this hour. So it might be your grocery that you placed an order for just this morning. 

Getting up from the couch, you take slow steps towards the door and the bell rings once again. The delivery guy must be in a hurry, so you scream a little “coming” as you take the doorknob in your hands and open the door. 

And your head starts spinning all at once. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask the man standing at your door. The same man who broke your heart six weeks ago. The words come out with less surprise and more anger. 

“I- uh- I need to pack rest of my stuff…” he pauses, visibly struggling with his words, “can I come in?” 

You sigh, a long one, as you open the door wider for him to come in. 

Today is indeed a bad day. You wanted to avoid him once and you ended up coming across twice. 

Shutting the door loudly enough, you look at Jungkook. He looks restless. He is still wearing the same clothes you saw him in earlier, so he might not have headed home since then. The strong smell of soju and cigarettes highents your suspicion. 

He looks back at you, with big, doe, glossy eyes. Once you felt unbelievably weak for them but now you feel numb. The moisture in those dark orbs does nothing to worry or unsettle you. 

You wait for him to say something or to head inside your (once shared) bedroom and pack up whatever stuff he had left behind. But he does nothing. He stands there staring at you as you do the same. 

You sigh again, “as far as my knowledge goes, you have nothing left to pack. But you can check again, or whatever you please.” 

You divert your eyes from him and walk towards the kitchen to pour him a glass of water. 

“I know that. I know there’s nothing left.” he finally speaks up, making your head turn towards him through the open space of the kitchen. 

You feel anger growing inside you with every passing moment. If he knew then why the fuck did he come? What brings him here at your apartment on a saturday night right when you feel way too much troubled with your feelings and emotions? 

But you control it. You are trained to control your emotions during these kinds of situations. So you take in a deep breath and open your mouth to speak again.

“Then may I ask what brings you here, Jungkook? That too in the state of intoxication? If this is about the apartment itself then let me remind you that the lease is in my name and I have already wired you the share you had paid up until the breakup.”  

He walks towards you. Standing on the other side of the kitchen counter he says, “I just wanted to see you, Y/N.” 

A sarcastic chuckle bubbles in your throat at that. 

“We don't really share a relation to see each other frequently, don’t you think so? Besides, you just saw me this afternoon.” 

This time Jungkook laughs. Just like yours, his laugh, too, is punctuated with sarcasm. But you don’t know how he can be sarcastic. He is the one who left you, he is the one who has a girlfriend waiting at home for him while he is here at his ex-girlfriend’s house and he is the one who should be guilty, not you. 

Suddenly you feel a strong urge to throw the glass full of water on his face. But you calm yourself down again. 

“Well, you didn’t even look at me properly. You were so eager to entertain your special client that you basically ran out of Jimin’s place.” 

The insides of your mouth taste sour at how Jungkook emphasized the words special client.

“I don’t get it.” your head feels heavy, squeezing your eyes shut tight you continue, “I don’t get why are you here at this hour, having an unnecessary argument about my life?” 

“I am not arguing with you.” Jungkook frowns as he manages to protest. 

“Okay.” you resign. You know stretching the matter any further will only complicate things and you don’t want that to happen. You don’t want him inside your home or within your 10 meter radius ever again.  

Feeling Jungkook’s constant stare on you, you stand straight and try to put an end to whatever is happening right now, “Jungkook, you are drunk. Let me book a cab-” 

“Who is he?” your ex-boyfriend cuts you off. 

“Who are you talking about?” you can sense jealousy and possessiveness in his voice. And this is something you never liked even when you were together. So, seeing him jealous now because of whatever reason, when he is the one who left you, makes you even more furious. 

“That guy you almost kissed a few minutes ago?” the words leave through his gritted teeth, triggering something venomous inside you. 

“Does your pretty little actress girlfriend know that you have been following your ex-girlfriend and keeping records of the guys I meet?” you actually grip the glass now, ready to throw the water on Jungkook’s face if he says another word out of line. 

“You didn’t answer me, Y/N. Who was he?” Jungkook stands his ground, stubborn to show his non-existent rights on you. 

“That’s. None. Of. Your. Business.” The words come out low but coated with anger. You fail to recognize yourself. 

Jungkook comes closer to the kitchen counter and lodges himself between the stools. Only the thin kitchen island is separating the two of you. 

Two months ago, you yearned to have him at this proximity at least. Ironically enough, now you hate it. 

“It is. It is my business if you are flirting with a married guy just to move on from me! I should.. I should step in.” 

And that’s it. That was the last nail in the coffin.  

You pour the water on his head without waiting for a second more. 

He closes his eyes with a visible tick in his jaw as the cold water runs down from his hair down to his face, gradually wetting his clothes. 

“Come out of your dream, Jeon Jungkook. The world doesn’t revolve around you. My life, my choices, my decisions - nothing, you impact nothing! You aren’t worth my thoughts or my tears anymore. Do you get that?” you spat at his face. 

Jungkook stands still. The change in your level-headed demeanor took him by surprise, it seems. However, his gaze softens, jaw relaxes soon. Maybe it’s the cold water or maybe his conscience decided to make a comeback now. 

Running a hand through his now dripping hair, Jungkook tries to establish his point again, “Y/N, I am sorry. I am just worried about you. That guy has a kid-” 

“I will give you two minutes to leave, Jungkook. If you fail to do so I am going to call your manager.” You garb a kitchen towel and throw it on his face, “or worse… the paparazzi.” with that you leave him hanging awkwardly at the dining space making a beeline for your bedroom for some solace. 

“Jungkook! Where have you been? Have you checked your phone? I have been texting and calling you? Are you alright? Did anything happen? Why are you soaked? Jungkook? Fucking answer me!” 

Jungkook’s head pounds more and more with every single word that comes out of Jiwon’s mouth.

He is still processing whatever happened tonight. But the alcohol level in his blood makes it almost impossible to form a coherent chain of thoughts. Jiwon, too, keeps throwing questions at him, pushing him towards the edge of losing his cool. 

Somehow managing to get out of his heavy boots, he trudges towards the couch and flops down, completely ignoring his girlfriend’s questions and presence. 

“Jungkook, please tell me. Did something bad happen? Where were you all day?” She sits at the end of the couch, by his leg, her voice is slightly less hyper than it was a minute ago.

“At Jimin’s” Jungkook whispers briefly as he covers his face with one of his forearm. He needs to rest. He needs to provide his mind and heart with a break after everything those went through today. But as soon as he closes his eyes, your face is what he sees. 

He has never seen you as angry as today. In those three years he spent with you, there were fallouts and arguments but never once you were as furious as you were today. You used to be either silent or passive aggressive before, but today you attacked him directly. There was fire in your eyes and venom in your voice. You even poured cold water on him. 

He knows he was unreasonable today. He knows he pushed all of your buttons. But what he doesn’t know is why he is hurting. 

He fell out of love with you. He, now, loves someone else. 

Then why on earth the prospect of you dating another man hurts him this much. Why couldn't he stop himself from acting unreasonable today? Why did he show up at your place and make a scene when it shouldn’t be his business to interrogate who you are dating.     

Jiwon shakes his body and he realizes that his sleeves are now wet with his tears. 

Fuck! Why am I crying? Jungkook thinks as he tries to sit up. 

“You weren’t with Jimin. He said you left after lunch. And it’s 9 pm now.” sniffing carefully, Jiwon adds, “and you are drunk.” 

“Yeah. I went for a drink later on.” Jungkook sighs. 

“Okay. But how did you get wet?” Jiwon throws her next question. 

“Can you please shut it, Jiwon?” the shout comes out of his throat involuntarily, so much so that it even takes himself by surprise. But he does nothing to conceal his bubbling annoyance, not even when he sees Jiwon’s eyes growing glossy. 

“I am sorry. I was just worr-” 

“I am sorry, too, Jiwon! I am sorry for not responding to your calls and messages and for shouting at you now but-” he sighs, feeling defeated, “but can you please leave me alone? I need to rest.” 

“Yeah, alright.” Jiwon gets up from her seat and walks towards the bedroom. 

Jungkook can feel her stopping in the middle of her tracks, turning towards him. 

“But if it’s about her, then… you need to fix yourself as soon as possible.” 

Jungkook doesn’t answer that.

Sunday and Monday go in a blur. 

You somehow feel way better after kicking Jungkook out of your apartment. A little, angelic part of you regrets being rude to him, especially for pouring cold water on his head. 

You could have handled the situation better, like the adult you are. On top of that, you are a psychologist. You should have acted more wisely. 

But the bigger part of you is satisfied. 

You accepted everything when he said he fell for someone else. You did let him go knowing that there is no point of holding someone on when their heart isn’t with you anymore. 

But you couldn’t accept his unreasonable possessiveness or the way he shamelessly showed up at your place and especially the way he talked about you and Hoseok. 

So in conclusion, Jungkook deserved it. 

And you feel good about it. 

After a while everything seems to be falling in place. You are starting to heal, you are getting attracted to someone very appealing, you had only two clients left, one of which just had her last counseling with you today. 

Another one is Sua, and you have a very good feeling about her too. 

Tonight you decided to treat yourself a little. Lightening a lavender scented candle and choosing an over-expensive sheet mask to pamper your face, you lie down on your bed. 

For once you decide to think about absolutely nothing. You want to let your mind float and see where it lands. 

Your eyes close. The wet, cold sensation from the sheet mask feels too good on your face and you try to focus on that only. 

But bam! 

As soon as you let your thoughts flutter, those decide you paint a particular face with heart shaped smile, dark, warm and mysterious eyes, and a lithe body that you want on yours-

And your phone rings. 

An annoyed groan leaves your lips! 

“Why the fuck did I leave it on ring?” grabbing the phone from the night stand you scream at yourself. 

But your annoyance dies as soon as you see the intruder's name on the screen. 

It’s Hoseok. 

You gulp, smoothing your voice that went hoarse with the scream, and then you pick it up tapping the speaker icon. 

“Hey, Y/N” his smooth voice fills your ear. A smile creeps to your lips without your knowledge, “Is this the right time to talk to you? I didn’t disturb you, did I?” 

His unsure voice cut through the little bit of hurt that you have been feeling after experiencing radio since from his side after whatever happened on Saturday. 

“No, you didn’t. Tell me what’s up? Is Sua alright?” You try to keep your voice professional. And professionally he shouldn’t call you past business hours if it’s not an emergency. 

“Yeah, she’s fine. She’s better actually. We went grocery shopping yesterday and she was a lot more talkative. Thanks for everything.” 

“Eh. I’m not going to discount you even if you keep thanking me.” 

He laughs at that, making you feel lightheaded with the sound. 

“I have a favor to ask, actually.” hoseok says, as the laugh dies down. 

“Yeah. Tell me.” 

“Sua’s homeroom teacher has called for a PTA on wednesday and I have decided to let her know everything. But I don’t think I will be able to handle the situation wisely since I can’t keep my anger in check when it comes to her. So….” 

“So?” 

“So, could you please join me? Since you are her doctor you will be able to do it better.” 

You stay silent. The idea of joining Hoseok to his daughter’s PTA meeting feels too intimate. Even though you know you are going just as her doctor.  

“It’s totally alright if you don’t want to. I know this might not be under your responsibilities and I am sor-”

“I will join you. You can text me the time and address, right?” 

“Yeah sure. Sure, I can.” 

You can feel his smile on the other side of the line. 

It doesn’t take you a minute to spot Hoseok and his luxurious sleek car. And you feel your breath caught in your throat yet again. 

How can a man be so attractive? He is handsome indeed but the aura of authority that he exudes knocks you off your socks each and every time you see him. 

When your eyes meet, he is still on the phone. For a moment you wonder, if it’s the woman Mina or not. 

“Hi… Thanks for coming.” Hoseok voices, cutting the call. His dark eyes bore into yours. You can see his Adam's apple bobbing as he quickly checks you out from head to toe. 

Fuck! Did you overdress yourself? 

“Again, hoseok, I get paid for doing this.” you add a little playfully making him chuckle. 

This time, you check him out. 

He has chosen to wear a black turtleneck today, tucked inside tight black slacks, along with a black blazer. 

Miraculously enough, you have chosen to wear a black wrap dress. And you two look nothing short of a grim reaper couple today. 

You chuckle to yourself at the thought. 

“Do I? Do I look funny?” Hoseok asks in surprise. 

You wave your hands desperately to dismiss his thoughts, “No no. It's just that we look like a grim reaper couple today. Dressed in all black.” 

“Oh” hoseok laughs lightly, “but a couple regardless.” 

You lose both of your mind and heart at his statement. 

The meeting went smoother than you expected it to. 

Obviously, the homeroom teacher couldn’t find her voice when you handed her Sua’s counseling reports. 

Even though she once tried to defend herself when Hoseok told her that she should have focused on Sua better, that she should have monitored her behavior and informed him if she was being quieter than usual. But she acknowledged her carelessness when you pointed out all the behavioral changes that were easy for a teacher to spot. 

She decided to talk to Jaemin and her parents personally and let you and Hoseok know of the outcome. And she also promised to take special care of Sua and transfer Jaemin to a different section to keep him away. 

“Do you think that kid and his parents will understand his mistakes?” Hoseok asks as you two walk through the corridor. 

“They should but that depends a lot on what kind of people they are. Since Jaemin is as old as Sua, it’s impossible for him to develop the concept of an illegitimate child by himself. He must have heard that somewhere, most likely from his mother. Even though it’s just my assumption, if that’s the case then his parents need to be schooled as well.” 

“Then we will need to meet them personally.”  

“Yes, if that kid refuses to leave Sua alone, we will have to meet them personally. And I will try my best to make them reflect on their mistakes, don’t worry.” you add briskly, stepping out of the school building. “I’ll take my leave now, bye.”

“No wait.” Hoseok holds your forearm, even though you haven’t moved an inch or tried to walk away from him. 

The foreground is full of parents but it seems like no one is paying you any attention, so you try to relax yourself at his touch. 

Hoseok eases too and lets his hand fall by his side, “do you have any plans for this evening?” 

“No. I don’t.” Your heart starts beating loudly. Is he going to ask you out or something?

“It’s almost 3:30 now and I assume you have had your lunch already. So, why don’t you have dinner with me and Sua? I am gonna pick her up from noona’s place on our way home.” Hoseok proposes. 

You think it through for a while. Dinner? At his place? Will you be alive by the end of the day? 

“I don’t think-” 

“Please, Y/N? Please?” Hoseok pleads, stepping towards you. 

“Okay then.” you let your resistance fall limp on the feet of your emotions. 

Hoseok is not a good cook but he knows how not to mess simple things up. So he sticks to the basics - Kimchi fried rice and samgyeopsal, accompanied by all the banchan his mom and sister send him every week.

He knows he needs to focus on the vegetables while chopping those but he can’t keep his eyes from wandering towards you. 

You look so bold and beautiful today. The black wrap dress is perfectly professional yet too sexy. He wants to undo that tie and let the dress fall on your feet to discover whatever wonders you are hiding underneath. 

You giggle with Sua. Both of you are coloring something while you engage her in a casual conversation. 

Hoseok’s heart warms at the scene. 

This is what he always wanted. A small family, a mother-figure for sua and a partner for himself. But he knows he doesn’t deserve you. Why would you want a single father like him when you could have bachelors lining for you. 

But then again, you didn’t stop him when he was about to kiss you that day. You accepted his invitation even though Namjoon mentioned you to be strictly professional. And now you are at his house, sitting in his dining room, playing with her daughter as he cooks for the three of you in the kitchen. 

Is he being too greedy? 

“You have got a beautiful balcony here.” You mutter staring at the sight ahead. 

“Really? Thank you.” Hoseok comes to stand beside you, handing you the glass of wine. 

“Yeah. your house, too, is very clean and organized, which is very rare for single parents, especially single fathers. It tells of the fact that you are, as a person, very sorted out.” You complete before taking a sip from your glass. 

Hoseok’s eyes are fixed on your side profile. He doesn’t say anything, just keeps staring at how gorgeous you are. 

Then you turn your face towards him, giving him a lazy smile, you say “What? Am I wrong?” 

“No. Not at all. About cleanliness though, Sua helps a lot. Even though she is only seven, she knows how to keep things at their places. She’s truly much more mature than the kids of her age.” he smiles at the thought of her daughter. 

You smile too, remembering how she fell asleep keeping her head on your lap earlier. 

“Sua is very tired today.”  you whisper. 

“Yeah she is. She never slept before having her dessert. She is definitely very tired today.” Hoseok nods in agreement. 

“Do you know why she is tired?” 

“Why?” 

“Because she played around after a long time. She told me that she became friends with her hoobaes and taught them how to play red light, green light.” 

“What? Really?” 

“Yeah. She is getting better, Hoseok.” you finally turn towards the man fully and find him way too close to keep a respectable distance between two bodies. 

Hoseok, though, is loving the proximity. He wants to have you close, right now… forever. 

“And a lot of credit for that… goes to you. You are such an exceptionally great dad.” You smile up at him. Your heart is wilding inside your rib cage and you want to know if Hoseok is feeling the same.   

“What about me as a man in general?” Hoseok whispers, starting to lean down. You are irresistible and he doesn’t know how to control himself anymore. 

“That’s not under my diagnosis. I need to find that out personally. But my work ethic won’t allow me.” you let the words out of your mouth. But your body completely deceives you as you close whatever distance your bodies had left in between. 

The moment your body touches his, your eyes meet his pair, which are now hazy with lust, Hoseok loses it. 

“Fuck ethics” you hear him curse before his mouth crashes yours. His free hand winds around your waist, pulling you closer. You kiss him back instantly. 

Two pairs of lips mold perfectly against each other. 

Hoseok kisses you relentlessly, as if he has been hungry for your lips for a long time now. His hand holds you tightly to keep you in your place. 

Your free hand grabs him by his neck, kissing him with just as much urgency. 

He sucks your lower lip as you do the same with his upper one. Soon his tongue finds its way inside your mouth, testing every corner. 

You moan in his mouth when you feel his hands diving down to your ass and giving it a pleasant squeeze. 

“Stay the night?” Hoseok whispers parting for a bit, as a string of saliva connects both of your lips. 

Taglist 1:-

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Taglist 2:-

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[melobin]

જ⁀➴ how to get a raise 𐙚 eunseok

part of the riize as porn plots series.

summary - as his secretary, you’re meant to be there for all of your bosses needs. so who would you be if you didn’t help him whilst he’s stressed? especially if you were getting something out of it yourself.

wc - 5.4k

warnings - boss eunseok x secretary reader, dom!eunseok, sir kink, fingering, oral giving and receiving, unprotected sex, clothed sex, big dick!eunseok, manhandling, spitting, creampie, cock slapping, face fucking, cum eating, facial.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

“sir?” you found yourself with your shoulder leaning against the door frame of your bosses office, moonlight seeped into the room from the gaps in the blinds that covered the wall wide window. eunseok looked up from the paper that was on his desk, eyebrow arching up at your appearance.

“yes?”

“it’s late, you should be heading off soon” 

“you’re not my boss” you laughed a little at his words, walking further into his office and sitting in the chair on the other side of his desk. he placed his pen down, looking at you with his hands clasped together “how may i help you?”

you looked at him carefully, eyes flicking over the features of his face. eunseok had always been a beautiful man, he was kind to his employees and you had the luxury of working alongside him everyday. he was your boss, you were simply the secretary that sat on desk outside of his office and took care of little errands he needed doing. he never over worked you, but he did over work himself.

that was eunseok’s downside, and possibly his ultimate downfall if you weren’t there to ground him. he spent a lot of time in his office, far too much time with his head buried in whatever work he had to do that week, too many out of office hours were spent with him still in there. you didn’t always stay behind with him, only on busier nights, yet you still worried about him.

but with his kind nature and rather unreal handsomeness, if he wasn’t your boss you probably would’ve fucked him by now. it took a lot of self restraint for you to not try and seduce him, especially with the late nights the two of you spent alone in the building. you thought maybe tonight would be the night to try your luck. eunseok was stressed and needed to relax and you would never turn down the opportunity to get fucked by an attractive man, you may even try and get something out of it yourself. you loved your job for the most part but the idea of a raise had your eyes sparkling, if you couldn’t talk him into giving you raise, you could probably fuck him into it.

“you should go home, you’ve been here since 8am” your eyes flicked to the clock on the wall behind him “it's now 10pm”

“and? shouldn’t you be the one going home?”

“and leave you here to rot at your desk? if you die i won’t have a job you know”  he rolled his eyes at you, amusement lacing through them.

“so all you care about is your job? here i thought i was getting special treatment”

“well you can have special treatment” you stood up, slowly walking around his desk and resting your ass against it when you were next to him. eunseok pushed his chair out a little to look at you “if you decide to at least take a break that is” 

“fine, what do you suppose i do to take a break?” you noticed the way his eyes momentarily dropped to the hem of your skirt that had ridden up your thighs, you stepped forward toward him. he leaned back in his chair, spreading his legs and bringing his hands forward to grab your waist. he let you place your knees either side of his thighs in order to straddle his lap, it seemed as if you didn’t have to say anything in order for him to know what you were hinting at. your hands sat on his shoulders as he looked up at you, he sighed as you dragged them down to rest against his chest. 

“how about i help you relax?” he titled his head to the side, watching you cautiously. god he was gorgeous. his dark eyes had a hint of curiosity in them and you were sure you could feel his cock growing under you, it reassured you that you’d probably be able to get what you wanted out of this. good dick and a raise.

“do what you want, doll” his voice sounded smoother to your ears, tone sending chills up your spine. he pressed the tips of his fingers into your waist “but what do you want out of this?”

“what makes you think i want anything?” you played with the open buttons of his shirt, he had already taken his tie off a few hours ago, leaving some of the buttons of his shirt undone so he could relax more. his blazer had been discarded and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, at this point you felt as if he looked too slutty to not have a move made on him.

“a girl like you doesn’t just do things like this” you giggled a little at his words, leaning further into him and letting your pantie covered cunt press against the bulge in his trousers. his fingers fell from your hips to your thighs, inching up the skin as he pushed your skirt up “so what do you want?”

“you really wanna know?” you pushed your hands back up his chest and around his shoulders, letting them clasp behind his neck, fingers toying with the short strands of hair that sat there. you leaned your head in, breath fanning over the flesh of his neck, leaving goosebumps behind. you collected salvia on your tongue before sticking it out and pressing it against his neck, licking up the skin till you reached just below his ear, a wet, slick line of spit being left in your trail. eunseok shivered. “sir, you see, i’d like a raise” your voice was low in his ear, sultry. it was as if you knew exactly how to talk to him in order to get what you wanted.

you wanted a raise. he wanted to fuck you. it seemed like a fair deal for both parties involved.

“deal” eunseok’s voice was more of a groan when he spoke, the feeling of you sucking on his neck made him dizzy. he left you to do your own thing for a short while, wanting to see what you were planning to do. what he did discover from that was just how much of a tease you were, grinding yourself against him, littering vile little marks on his neck, full well knowing you absolutely shouldn’t be. eunseok couldn’t find it in himself to stop you though, too relaxed in the pleasure of you kissing at his skin.

he needed to do something soon though, finding himself far too worked up to let you continue your teasing. so he took matters into his own hands, rolling the wheels of his chair closer to his desk, startling you. he took the opportunity to push you off of his lap and sit you on his desk, pushing your thighs apart and bringing his face down between them, nipping at the sensitive skin.

“we’re doing this to help you relax, sir,” your fingers ran through his hair, messing it up slightly, other hand gripping onto the edge of his desk as he looked up at you from where his head rested against your thigh, teeth gently sinking into the flesh.

“eating pussy is one of my favourite things to do, doll” you couldn’t suppress the whine that left you at his words “so if you want to help me relax, you’ll keep your legs open whilst i eat your pretty little pussy” he brought a hand to your panties, pressing his thumb against the wet spot that had formed on the thin material “looks like you like the sound of that”

he pushed his hand between the flesh of your cunt and your underwear, wrapping his hand around the fabric and letting the backs of his fingers graze over your clit before pulling them harshly. you couldn’t have thanked yourself more that you had decided to wear one of your flimsiest pairs this morning, they tore so easily under his grip. you shivered when you felt his fingers push into your slit, he parted them causing the lips of your pussy to open. you watched him cautiously, taking note in how his eyes sparkled at the sight of your soaked cunt.

“gonna make a mess on my desk” he presses his middle finger against your swollen clit, brushing over it in a few slow circles before dragging it down your slit. it felt like he was teasing you as he pressed it against your hole, barely pushing it in before his eyes flicked up to meet yours. the corners of his lips had turned up slightly, he was enjoying the raw neediness you felt for him.

his eyes focused back on your sopping cunt as he pushed his finger inside of you, 

letting out a groan when he felt just how tightly you were clamping around his finger. he eased the rest of his slender finger inside of you, basking in just how soaked you were around it. he thrusted it into a few times, dragging it slowly along your walls before he pressed his index finger in along side of it.

“need to fuck you open” he curled his fingers once they were completely inside of you, pushing the tips of them against your walls, consciously checking around to find the swollen spot inside of you “need you to relax, you’ll never be able to take my cock like this, doll, you’re too small and tight” you whined as you watched him spread you open with his fingers, the motion of them increasing in speed once he felt your core relax around them. he spread them apart inside of you, stretching you open as he watched the way they came out soaked, covered in your slick. 

eunseok pulled his fingers out of you properly, separating them in front of his face so he could see the way your slick joined them together, he laughed before looking up at you and pushing them into his mouth. he sucked every bit of you off of his fingers, groaning at how you tasted. he felt his cock twitch in his pants at his first taste of you, he needed more.

“you taste so fucking good, can’t believe something so sweet has been so close to me this entire time” he spoke after withdrawing his fingers from his mouth, he already felt as if he was obsessed with the way you tasted “god, fuck, i need more” his hands found your thighs, skirt being pushed up your hips as he dragged you to the edge of the desk, rolling his chair as far as he could against the desk so he could be close to you. his hands slipped down your legs to place them over his shoulders before returning to your upper thighs.

the position felt filthy, he had you completely open, lips in front of your cunt. he wanted to devour every inch of you and he finally got to when he pulled you as close to his face as he possibly could, an open mouthed kiss being placed on your swollen clit. he took you pulling on his hair as a sign to continue, closing his lips around the nub and rolling it between them, tongue coming forward to flick against it. you gasped at the sudden feeling, he wasn’t exactly teasing you, just pushing your buttons to see what made you tick. he quickly realised anything set you off if it was from him. he released your clit, a wet sound coming from him when he done it. he made quick work of flicking his tongue over your clit, not holding back with the speed he went at. 

eunseok, you had noticed, wasn’t shy when it came to being vocal. he didn’t hold back the whine that built in his throat from how you were pulling his hair, the pain mixed with how your cunt was bleeding onto his tongue turned him on endlessly. he could feel the way his cock was straining against his trousers, eunseok wanted to fuck you so bad, but he couldn’t surpess the need he felt to feel you cum on his tongue.

his hands had shifted under your skirt, hooking under your legs to grip your ass and pull you even closer to his face. you weren’t sure he had any breathing room with how he was pressed against you, but that’s how eunseok liked it, he just wanted all of his senses to be filled with you. he wanted to be completely taken over by you. 

and he was once he flattened his tongue against your cunt, nose pressing against the flesh above it, his head shook from side to side causing his tongue to move against you. slick covering your thighs at this point, his mouth soaked with you. he wrapped his lips around your clit once more, flicking his tongue over it before sucking on it. that motion inflicted quite possibly the loudest moan you had ever let out.

“sir, eunseok, fuck i can’t” you were overwhelmed, head tipping back and eyes shutting. your fingers found themselves scratching at the wood of his desk whilst his others pulled at his hair. you shouldn’t have been surprised that he knew what he was doing, eunseok was very clearly skilled at oral, you probably should’ve realised that when he told you it was one of his favourite things to do. either way though, you could get used to falling apart because of his tongue “gonna cum”

“do it, doll” he released your clit “let me taste you” he flattened his tongue against your hole, nose pressing against your clit as he soaked up all of your slick before dragging his tongue up your slit, lips closing around your clit for the final time. eunseok sucked on your clit as if it was the last thing he’d ever do, his desire to make you cum clouded his thoughts of anything else. he was sure his cock could have torn his trousers with how hard he felt himself throb at the sound of you falling over the edge, the way you were moaning and how you were pulling on his hair whilst spilling onto his tongue had him groaning against your pussy. 

he pulled away from your cunt to lean back in his chair, breathing heavily as your slick dripped down his lips

“god, you’re the sweetest thing i’ve ever tasted” you watched him as you tried to steady out your breathing, his tongue poked out to lick you off of his lips, he groaned during it “could eat you out all day” he leaned his head back against is chair, closing his eyes as he let out a deep breath. you let your own eyes fall down his body in the meantime, they lingered on his waist. his button up shirt was still perfectly tucked into his trousers, the waist band of them seemed to fit his body perfectly. the ratio of his proportions were slightly insane, his broad shoulders in comparison to his tight, small, slutty waist made your head dizzy. at this point it felt as if it was impossible for you to not become obsessed with your boss in some way.

you finally let your eyes drop to the bulge that had formed in his pants, it was big. it made you nervous in a way but the nerves only excited you more, if his cock was straining against his trousers this much, your mouth watered at how thick it much be. you couldn’t think straight in that moment due to the intensity of your previous orgasm, but you could imagine how deliciously his cock would stretch you out. god you needed him desperately.

it was as if eunseok could sense your neediness, his eyes opened and he followed yours to where they lay staring at his lap. “need something?”

“do you?” he gave you a knowing look before standing up, fingers digging into the sides of your thighs before he pulled you to the very edge of the desk. one of his hands leaving your thigh to cup your jaw, the dark obs in his eyes looked over your face before he leaned into kiss you. the kiss was anything but sweet, his tongue pushed into your mouth almost immediately, all you could taste was yourself in his saliva. it felt filthy but arousing, it seemed as if eunseok was enjoying it too “ you taste yourself?” he pulled his lips off of yours, noses barely rubbing against on another's.

“mhm” you were in a daze.

“told you that you were sweet” it took you a little by surprise when he leaned in to kiss you again, but it didn’t last long. before you knew it he was breaking the kiss and pulling you off of his desk, barely letting you stand up before he was turning you around and pressing your front flat against it. he ran a hand up your thigh, pushing your skirt all the up past your ass in order to see you properly. you felt him bring his hand down to the swell of your ass, squeezing it in his hand before letting go of you.

whilst you couldn’t see what was going on, you could hear it. the way the zipper of his trousers was pulled down and how his belt was unbuckled and dropped to the floor/ what caught you the most was the way he groaned when, you assume, he finally let his cock breathe. he rested it on the curve of your ass, admiring how his precum seeped out of his tip onto your skin.

“do you see why i had to stretch you out, doll?” he wrapped his hand around his cock, pumping it a few times before pressing it against you, tip being held against your clit “too thick for you, know your tight little cunt wouldn’t be able to take it alone” you whimpered at his words, thighs quivering at the feeling of his cock being dragged up your slit. your fingers dug into his desk as you felt the tip of his cock press into your hole, you were sure you’d leave little scratch marks in the wood but you had a feeling that eunseok wouldn’t mind, all it would be is a reminder of how he fucked you senseles over his desk. 

you whimpered when he eased his cock inside of you, feeling his hand press against your back as your eyes squeezed shut whilst you tried to adjust to the stretch. somehow, you felt it was unfair that eunseok’s cock was so big, no man should be blessed with the looks he had and a fat cock to go with it, but here you were being stretched out by it, so who were you to complain? you couldn’t anyway, mind already being cleared of any thoughts you had as you focused on how he felt inside of you. 

he let you, and himself, breathe. stilling his cock inside of you, letting out a deep, throaty groan when he felt you clench around him. eunseok couldn’t find it in himself to look away from where the two of you were connected, it felt as if your pussy was made to take his cock. you wrapped around him perfectly, swallowed every inch of him, eunseok was sure he could stare at the sight of you stuffed full of his cock forever.

with a hand place on your lower back and his other holding your waist, eunseok finally moved. the first thrust was almost experimental, he wanted to see how you reacted to his cock slowly moving between your walls. he liked your reaction. your cunt clamped down around his cock immediately, a choked whine falling from your lips. eunseok could definitely get used to fucking you like this.

he kept a steady rhythm at first, not wanting to overwhelm you right away, especially with the sensitivity you had due to your last orgasm. that didn’t stop you from whimpering every time you felt his cock fill you up, each thrust forward left you yearning for more. you wanted to see how he let loose, wanted to feel him when he turned rough, it was something you knew eunseok would enjoy hearing from you.

“sir” you voice was shaky as you spoke, you could only hope he heard you.

“hm? what is it doll?” he slowed his thrusts down, barely moving so he could hear you speak properly. eunseok may have wanted to fuck you senseless, but he was still a gentleman at heart.

“you don’t have to hold back sir” you purposely pressed your ass back against his cock, taking him deeper “be rough with me, i can take it”

“you don’t know what you’re asking for” you lifted your head and looked behind your shoulder at him.

“then show me” the only thing eunseok could do was breathe heavily, it only took a few short seconds for him to be grabbing your forearms and pinning them behind your back, large hands holding them down. his first sharp thrust forward had you resting your head back on the desk, whining when he pulled out and thrusted back inside of you. his demeanour had changed, even the way he touched you felt different. his nails dug into the skin of your arms as he fucked into you. hips hitting against your ass with each deep stroke. his pace had changed too, it was quicker, there was more power behind his thrusts. you felt as if you barely had time to process how he felt inside of you before he was pulling out and pushing back in.

you could hear him. deep, heavy breaths, groans that slipped past his lips every few thrusts and the odd low pitched moan of fuck, the sound of it made your head spin. it only increased the intensity of the pleasure you were feeling, his voice was just pure sex.

“god, i could get used to fucking your sweet little cunt” his words were slurred, they sent sparks right to your core. the tip of his cock abused your sweet spot, your knees growing weaker by the second and that only got worse when he took one of his hands off of your arm. you weren’t sure of what strength eunseok had, but you felt yourself grow wetter when you realised he had both of your arms pinned against your back with only one of his hands. 

he let out a deep breath when his fingers reached around you to touch your clit, almost overwhelmed by how slippery it felt. describing you as soaked felt like an understatement at that point, he was sure he’d never felt someone so wet before. eunseok thought it was the hottest thing, even more so when he felt how swollen your clit was under his fingers. you were a wreck at the hands of him and he loved it, so much so that he needed to make you cum again.

his fingers on your clit matched the pace of his thrusts, you were pretty certain that if the desk wasn’t supporting your weight, you would’ve collapsed onto the floor by now. your  body felt weak as he used you, fucked you like you were his own personal cock sleeve, jerking his cock off with your drenched, clenching walls whilst he played with your clit. there was no way you’d be able to tell him you were going to cum, you could barely hide your moans with your mouth shut, so if you parted your lips to speak you knew all that would come out would be broken moans and breathless whines.

he knew though, eunseok could tell from the way you were clamping around his cock and whimpering against his desk that you were close, he saw the way your hands balled into fists and how your legs shook, he was adamant on making you cum around his cock.

“let it go, doll” his fingers never stopped, cock throbbing inside of you as he felt you edge closer “cum around my cock, let me feel it” he didn’t want to cum before you, he needed you to cum so he could hold you against him and spill himself inside of you, needed to let your cum mix with his inside of your cunt. 

you followed his words, your nails digging into the palm of your hand as you let yourself go around him. he didn’t stop what he was doing nor did he relax. he kept up his pace, fucking into you until your brain felt mushy and your legs felt useless, fingers not releasing your clit until he was sure your orgasm was over. you were whimpering nonstop, drool falling from your lips as your orgasm ended, it was just in time for his to begin.

“gonna stuff you full of my cum, need you to feel full of me”

“please” your voice was weak, almost too quiet for him to hear you, but he did. he made sure to continue fucking you until he felt himself fall over the edge, pressing himself as deep as he could into you whilst he released, letting thick ropes of his cum fill up your cunt and leave you covered in it. you felt all of him, the way his cock twitched inside of you and how his cum warmed up your insides. it only took a few moments for his hand to leave your clit and wrap around your waist, other hand following suit as he sat back in his chair, pulling you down to sit on his lap. his cock was still wedged inside of you as you sat on him, he puled your legs to drape off of his, holding your side against him and letting you rest your head in his neck. the action was comforting, especially the way his hand slowly moved up and down your back.

“so how does a fifthteen percent raise sound, doll?” he broke the silence. you lifted your head out of his neck, breathing slowly evening out. you narrowed your eyes at him and smiled, pressing your hands against his chest.

“will you make it twenty-five percent if i suck your cock, sir?” eunseok laughed at your offer, sticking his tongue against the inside of his cheek. he brought his hand to your jaw and cupped it harshly, you jolted at the rough action.

“maybe if you do it good enough, i’ll consider it.” you took the challenge happily, letting him pull your mouth against his, pushing his tongue into it. you couldn’t call it a kiss, it was more like a wet clash of tongues, yet somehow it was still hot. once he broke the kiss you shakily lifted yourself off of his cock and climbed off of his lap, letting yourself sink to your knees between his legs. you felt his cum leak out of your cunt and slide down your leg once you had settled there.

you wrapped your hand around his cock, it was wet, being covered in a mixture of your slick and both of your cum. your hand moved easily along it, squeezing the base before bringing it up to the head and swiping your thumb over it, you enjoyed the way he shivered at the feeling. this was the first time you saw his cock, it looked just as thick as it felt inside of you, part of you didn’t even know how he fit inside of you due to the size of him, but what you did know was that you enjoyed it thoroughly.

“your cock is so big, sir” eunseok hummed, leaning back in his chair and looking down at you “felt so good inside of me” you didn’t look up at him, too focused on his cock that was in your hand. you squeezed it again, mouth watering as the way precum seeped from the tip. you wanted him in your mouth so bad, wanted to feel him in your throat. 

“you like my cock that much, baby?” the baby caught you off guard momentarily, it was the first time he’d called you something that wasn’t doll. for some reason it made you want his cock in your mouth even more.

“more than you know” you leaned forward, hand resting around the base of his cock as you licked up the side of it. once you reached the top you wrapped your lips around his head, tongue sliding over it, coating your tastebuds with his precum. eunseok groaned at the feeling, already falling in love with the way your tongue felt on his cock.

you took your lips off of him, collecting as much saliva in your mouth as you could before spitting on the tip of his cock, pumping your hand over it a few times before taking him in your mouth properly, instantly taking as much of him as you could. you swallowed around his cock before bobbing your head, being sure to let the tip go as far into your mouth as you could without gagging before lifting your head and going back down. with his size, it was difficult for you to take all of him down your throat so you put your hand to use, being sure to jerk off the part of him you couldn’t fit in your mouth in time with how you were bobbing your head on him.

you felt his hand reach into your hair, fingers curling around the strands as you sucked him off. he tried not to grip your hair too hard, but he also remembered how you had asked to be rougher with you. it led to him pulling on your hair, shifting your lips a little further down his cock because of it and it wasn’t long before his hips were bucking forward themselves. you took it upon yourself to pull your lips off of him, looking up at his with teary eyes from the depth his cock went to in your throat.

“use my mouth” eunseok blinked for a second, unsure on what he had heard you say, but once he was sure of what you said he stood up. his hand wrapped properly in your hair, fingers almost digging into your scalp. he wrapped his other hand around the base of his cock. bringing it back toward you, keeping eye contact with you as he dragged the wet tip along your parted lips, not pushing it in right away. instead he let it slide along your skin toward your cheek before lifting it off of you and striking it against your skin, he laughed at the way you moaned at the contact.

“slut” you whimpered before he pushed his cock between your lips, slowly letting it glide along your tongue and to the back of your throat before pulling out and repeating the action. his grip was harsher on your hair as he sped up his hips, watching you struggle to take all of his cock in your mouth, loving the way your eyes filled with tears again, a few even slipping from your eyes as he fucked your mouth. eunseok loved the sight below him just as much as he loved the feeling of your lips on his cock.

he wasn’t going to last long, just the sight of you drove him to the brink of insanity, needing to cum and make a bigger mess of you. as his actions continued, the room was filled with the filthiest sounds of you taking his cock. the echoing of his office left nothing to the imagination as he used your mouth. spit leaked from your lips as he grew closer to the edge, slipping down your chin and onto your shirt. eunseok needed to cum.

“wanna cum on your face” all you could do was nod as he pulled his cock out of your mouth, both of your hands wrapping around his cock as you jerked him off, your spit making it easier for your hands to move. his free hand gripped the edge of his desk as he came, eyes never leaving your face as he coated it in his cum, some going into your mouth as you parted your lips just to get a taste of him. his eyes didn’t even leave you after he came. he brought his hand down to your face, hand cupping your cum covered cheek before speaking.

“your raise will be a part of your next pay check, baby”.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

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#riize smut #eunseok smut #✧ melody posts #✧ hard hours ✧

[harryslittlefreakk]

can’t get you off my mind

(late night talking part 2)

Summary: your first night at LOT leads to a new depth to yours and harry’s… friendship

Warnings: smut, 18+!!!

A/n: i love this one. that’s all. this is all based off a very fun dream i had

hi guys!! thank you so much for all the love on this so far. if there’s anything you’d like to see, anything for me to add, anything at all you’d like in the upcoming parts then please let me know 🫶🏼xx

part one

my masterlist can be found here!

Harry spent the entire day thinking about you. He’d dropped you at your hotel that morning, slightly against his will. He woke before you, and couldn’t believe how adorable you looked sleeping. Your hair was a mess from tossing and turning in the night, your cheeks rosy from the morning heat and your rosebud lips puffing out with every breath.

He had places to be and you needed to shower, but once he saw the building you were staying in he decided you’d never go back there. It looked a state. The yellowing brickwork was falling apart, some windows were boarded up and the front door was wedged open for anyone to get in at any time. He made a mental note of your room number before he drove off.

You’d exchanged numbers as you left, but Harry hadn’t heard from you since then. Although he was busy with work at the venue, outfit fittings and some sneaky self-care, he was starting to panic that he wouldn’t speak to you again. So when he’d finally had enough of waiting by the phone like a teenager, he snapped a picture of himself with a sheet mask on. He sent it to you, then followed with a message.

harry: making myself pretty for you :)

He saw you were typing almost immediately, and his heart nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw a picture from you flash up. You were wearing a tiny baby tee, and if he looked hard enough (which he absolutely did) he could make out the outline of your nipples under the shirt. You were surrounded by makeup, your hair already styled in perfect waves.

y/n: you’re pretty enough as you are. working hard on myself too 😋

Harry felt a blush creep up his cheeks as he read and reread your message. Tapping his fingers on the side of his phone, he stared up at the ceiling and wondered how you’d just been dropped right under his nose. He always shied away from women who were fans of his work, knowing it can get more complicated that way. But something was different about you, there was a reason he’d bumped into you last night, he was sure of it.

—

With soundcheck finished, all Harry had to do now was get ready. He wondered if you were outside already, where you’d be inside, what you’d be wearing. You hadn’t caved and given him any details, so the possibilities had been running through his mind all day. He paced his dressing room, stretching out his strong arms. Every show was important, every show needed to go right. His first night at Wembley needed to be a good one. He just hoped he’d spot you, know you were there so he didn’t have to keep looking for you. Sighing, he decided to send you one final text before shutting his phone off and getting in the zone.

harry: meet me at my hotel after the show? won’t be there until later but can give your name to the front desk :) x

y/n: only if i’m not intruding !!! good luck tonight, break a leg 🦵 x

Meanwhile, you were in the queue outside the stadium with your best friend, Joanie. You were both wearing denim halter playsuits, her with a blue feather boa and yours white. You’d met each other at school where you bonded over One Direction, so you wished to be able to tell her about your night with Harry. But you knew whatever friendship was blossoming between you two could only continue in private, at least for now, and you knew she’d understand when you eventually told her. She was watching you as you stood there, jittering and anxiously checking your phone. “What’s up with you?,” she asked, her face scrunched up. “Oh. Nothi- I’m just anxious to get inside,” you lied through your teeth, hoping she wouldn’t ask any further. You knew the last thing on Harry’s mind right now would be texting you, yet you still waited for another message. You had your phone brightness turned all the way down so no one could see, and clicked on your text chain with Harry every few minutes. You couldn’t stop looking at his selfie, his glistening green eyes against the white of the mask, the relaxed look on his face. He was shirtless, the heads of his inked swallows just creeping into frame. You hadn’t even clocked he’d slept shirtless last night. The things you’d do if presented with that again ..

The queue began to move inside, and every wall you looked at showed you pictures of Harry’s face. It felt totally insane that the same man you’d joked around with like old friends was the one you’d be screaming to shortly. Part of you wanted to dial down your enjoyment, make him think you’re just a casual fan so he felt more comfortable around you- but you knew the second he came on stage that would be out the window.

You found a perfect spot a few rows back from the front of the walkway, knowing Joanie wanted to see ‘little freak’ and ‘matilda’ up close. It wasn’t long until you heard the opening chords of ‘daydreaming’ and watched Harry burst onto the stage. The atmosphere was electric, and he looked divine in his red and white patterned jumpsuit. You and Joanie were screaming and jumping like children at a school disco, in pure disbelief of the love and wholesome vibes around you.

When Harry appeared just in front of you, you felt a buzzing in your chest. You’d seen his eyes scanning the crowds, as if he was looking for someone, and you really hoped he was looking for you. As soon as you thought about it, his eyes landed upon yours. He sucked in a long breath, losing his train of thought mid-ramble. Harry thought you were beautiful last night but you looked almost heavenly tonight. Your playsuit hugged your curves perfectly, the half-up zipper showing an inviting amount of cleavage. He could see all the tattoos dotted up and down your arms, and the way you were grinning at your friend made his heart melt a little. You had an air of innocence about you, which he loved. Suddenly, your friend was looking at him awestruck and nudging you to see. You half-waved, sending him a subtle wink so as not to alert Joanie to anything weird. Harry managed to carry on with what he was saying, but his eyes barely left you the entire time he was there.

By the time he got around to ‘late night talking’, Harry literally couldn’t get you off his mind. In a sea full of people, it’s like there was a spotlight on you. The way you were dancing, your hair flying around you, he was mesmerised. The rest of the show continued in a blur, with Harry barely in control of his own actions. Going through the motions until he could see you later on. Grinding against the microphone, acting out the dirtier parts of every song. You riled him up in the perfect way.

“I need a little help from you all,” he spoke into the microphone, one hand scanning the crowd. “It’s a little hot today, and I think we need to cool down.” His face remained serious, though the crowd laughed after his antics all night. He was positively feral. Rolling his shoulders back, Harry grabbed the microphone as the first lines of ‘kiwi’ tumbled out his mouth. It didn’t take long for him to be back in front of you, already drenched from the splashes of water he’d requested. He was standing there with a devilish smirk plastered on his face, full water bottle in hand.

She sits beside me like a silhouette

His hand traced the curves of his own body, eyes locked onto yours once again. The words you were screaming were no more than tiny squeaks now, heart caught in your throat as you watched Harry gyrating in front of you.

Hard candy drippin' on me 'til my feet are wet

He raked a hand down the front of his body, pulling away just before he reached his goods. Something in his eyes said he wanted to touch himself right here, right now.

And now she's all over me, it's like I paid for it

It's like I paid for it

He pointed towards you now, apparently totally incapable of anything except showing the world that he wanted to fuck you. Heat was swirling round your insides, this song did enough for you without Harry singing it for you.

I'm gonna pay for this

Just as the burning in your core got too much to bear, Harry unscrewed his water bottle and threw the contents right at you. You shrieked as the water hit you, drenching Joanie and the other girls around you. Harry returned your wink, the green of his eyes barely visible around his blown pupils, and moved on as if nothing happened.

“Oh my God!” Joanie screamed, jumping up and down at your side. “He was looking right at you!!”

You were so flustered, you couldn’t even find words to respond. You were almost nervous for the show to finish, hoping Harry still had this energy later.

—

Opening the door to your hotel room, you looked around with your jaw dropped. Everything was gone, all your makeup and clothes vanished from the piles around the room. All that was left was some gym shorts, a black t shirt and the pair of sneakers you wore last night. You turned on your heel, furious that someone had been fiddling with your stuff while you were away. It was only then that you saw the note pinned to the back of the door.

Y/N, this hotel sucks. Got you a room in mine. See you soon , H x

You couldn’t believe what you were reading. That cheeky little bastard didn’t even pre warn you that he’d cleared out your hotel room. You were desperate for a cold shower after the heat of the concert. Instead, you got changed quickly and scrubbed your makeup off, hoping that would make you feel a little fresher. Harry hadn’t even left you clean panties to change into.

—

Barging into his hotel room with the note still in your hand, you were half surprised to even see Harry standing there. You assumed he’d still be a while, but then, he didn’t have to battle through the crowds to leave the stadium. “There you are,” he grinned, so much more relaxed than you’d seen him a few hours ago. You flapped the note in the air, unable to even find words to question him. “Hey,” he started, stalking towards you slowly. “You can’t stay there alone, I don’t trust that place one bit. I put all your stuff in your room- it’s just one floor down from here.” You calmed down slightly at that, not even sure why you were so worked up to begin with. He was right, your hotel was the lowest of the low. “Thank you,” you mumbled, looking up at him. Harry was standing right in front of you now, wearing only a thin t shirt and the gym shorts from yesterday. He looked exhausted, but totally wired.

“I couldn’t take my eyes off you,” he whispered, barely audible above the hum of the music he had playing. “Are you kidding?!” You replied, eyes lighting up as a grin stretched across your face. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you,” you laughed, poking a finger into Harry’s muscular chest. He grabbed your hand when you didn’t move it away, looking into your eyes with parted lips. His own eyes were darkened, his pupils blown with a look you couldn’t quite place. They dragged up and down from your eyes to your mouth, and just being subject to his gaze lit a fire in your core. He was animalistic. Harry traced along your jaw with his free hand, tentatively as if waiting to be stopped. Only, you didn’t stop him. You weren’t sure you could speak, even if you wanted to.

He let go of your wrist and ran both of his hands through his damp hair, before wiping down his face with his right hand. Harry took a step closer, his big frame overshadowing you as you stepped back until your hips hit the kitchen counter. Please, please let this go as far as I want it to, you silently prayed, wishing Harry could read your mind right now. He was still looking down at you, his firm chest rising and falling quickly. You placed a gentle hand against his pec, checking his eyes for any sign as to his next move. Harry merely cocked his head in response, as if trying to figure you out too. “Harry, please,” you moaned softly, hoping this would be all the permission he needed to have his wicked way with you.

Almost instantly, his hands were under your thighs, scooping you up and placing you on the countertop. He tilted your chin up and looked over your face one more time before his lips smashed into yours, starting a battle of tongues, teeth and lips. You wrapped an arm around his broad shoulder, allowing his tongue further into your mouth. Harry’s teeth tugged at your lower lip as he pulled away, his forehead resting against yours. You were panting, half from the lack of air but mostly from the heat in your belly. You mentally scolded him for not leaving you clean panties as they were double soaked now. You wrapped your ankles around his hips, pulling him closer into you until your cores connected. His thick shaft poked your inner thigh, leaving you moaning and crumbling in front of him. “You had me going crazy all night,” Harry moaned against your mouth, pushing his hands up and under your t-shirt. He kneaded your soft breasts as if they were warm dough, pinching your nipple as his lips moved down to your neck. His name tumbled out of your mouth over and over again, Harry, Harry, Harry, ringing around your head as he got to work on your body.

He stepped back, tilting your head up again to look him in the eyes as his fingers wrapped around the waistband of your shorts and panties. You gave him a small nod, knowing he’d take that as your consent to do whatever he fancied with you. Harry whipped them off in one go, his cock twitching at the sight of you. Your lips were swollen and pink, pupils blown with lust. He could see the wetness glistening between your folds, looking beyond inviting. His fingers trailed up your thigh, circling your button before slipping between your folds. Your head fell to his shoulder as he pushed in and out of you, stroking at your sweet spot. Your walls were tightening around his knuckles already, so much pent up pleasure pushing you close to your climax already.

“So close already, sweet girl?” Harry drawled, peppering kisses down your throat. You could only moan in response, feeling a ball of heat deep in your core. He slipped another finger in, rubbing on your button with his thumb, desperate to coax you to your high. “Right there Harry, don’t stop, please don’t stop,” you panted, screwing up your eyes as he bought you closer. “Look at me, Y/N, look in my eyes as you come,” Harry warned, his tone stern yet breathy. The minute you looked up at him, your orgasm flooded over you. Your thighs were shaking as you called out his name through pants, a hand gripping the back of his thick curls.

He kept his fingers moving inside you, slower now as you came down from your high, before rubbing a hand along your waist. “You needed that, huh? Did so good for me baby,” he spoke softly, pressing kisses into your jawline. “I’m gonna take you to the bed now, okay?” He asked, pushing your hair out of your face. You simply nodded, unable to speak after such a fast and heavy orgasm.

Harry slipped off his shirt before sliding an arm under you and gripping you tight, carrying you over to the giant bed. He laid you down gently in the centre of the bed, kicking off his shorts and boxers. Your eyes were drawn to his groin as he gave himself a quick stroke, his erection bouncing up to smack the centre of his laurels. He was big. Bigger than he felt pressed against you, maybe bigger than you’d ever seen. “Fuck,” he groaned, looking down at you with his lips rolled into his mouth. “I don’t have a condom.”

“I’m clean, Harry. And I’m on birth control,” you offered. Harry grinned. He wouldn’t normally go raw, he knew the risks all too well. But man, did he want to. He could already feel the way your walls would stretch around him, the sheer pleasure of splitting you in two with no barrier in the way. It was risky, but he’d already taken enough risks with you. One more wouldn’t hurt.

He climbed on top of you, resting one hand to the left of your shoulder. Guiding his cock to your folds, he moaned at the slightest touch. You’d had him hard for so long now, Harry knew he wouldn’t last long when he finally got inside you. He leaned down to press a kiss to your lips as he pushed his head inside of you. He took the first few inches slow, reeling from how tight you were around him. “Let me know if it’s too much, okay pet?” He looked deep into your eyes as you nodded, throwing an arm around his neck. “More, please Harry,” you whimpered, using one foot to nudge the back of his thigh. “You wanna take it all, princess? Gonna get fucked so good by daddy’s cock?”

You moaned louder at his words, pure filth tumbling out of his dirty, dirty mouth. Harry bottomed out inside you, throwing his head back in relief. He had every intention of starting off slow and careful, but after pulling out, his first thrust was already hard and sloppy. He needed you too badly to waste time warming you up. “You feel so good baby, never had someone so tight around me.” He rocked into you quickly, his free hand gripping onto yours. You had no idea sex could ever feel as good as it did right now. His cock was filling every inch of you, forcing satisfaction into places you’d never felt before. “Harry, fuck-“ you whined, “I’m close.”

“Come for me, I want you to come baby.” His groin was rubbing against your clit, your pleasure threatening to spill out of you again. You looked up at him, just as he’d requested before, and stretched your neck to press sloppy kisses along his collarbone. Your body started to tense up again, you could feel your walls clenching around his shaft. You writhed under him, this orgasm more intense than you’d ever had. “Fuck baby, fuck. Where do you want me to come?” He stuttered, throwing everything left in his body into thrusting in and out of you as you came down from your high. “Inside me, please, fuck Harry.” You panted, clawing into the back of his neck. He wasted no time in painting your walls with his come, his thrusts becoming sloppy and half-arsed as he cried out your name.

—

“You didn’t have to do that, you know. I wasn’t expecting it or anything,” you spoke softly, moving your head to look up at Harry. He only wrapped his arm around you tighter, pressing a kiss into the top of your head. “I know. I wanted to.” He replied, pulling the duvet on top of you both with his free hand. “Seemed like you wanted it too,” he smirked, nestling his chin into your hair. You slapped his chest playfully, eyes heavy after your long night. You both fell asleep like that, tangled up in each other, wearing nothing but a pair of pants each.

part three

#harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #harry x fan #harry fic #harry x y/n #harry x reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #Harry styles x fan #harry smut #harry styles #harry styles smut

[reverie-verse]

Hello! Can I request a Azriel x Reader angst? The reader and Az are mates but Az was too infatuated with Mor, and after years of waiting the reader moves on with an OMC. They’re finally happy and feel loved and all Azriel can do is watch as his mate gets pulled from him completely. The reader tells him it’s too late. (The reader isn’t bitter)

The Mate That Got Away- Azriel x Reader

Note: There will be a ball, and the outfits are going to be vague. So you can picture what you’d like, if you prefer ethnic traditional clothing, great! If you like modern clothing that’s also great too. The style is up to you! However the color of the outfit will match the male character. So whatever color his court is, whatever color he represents the reader will have.

Ooooooo I almost forgot! I pictured Lestat from queen of the damned as Eris. I’m sorry it is what it is. Thats where my brain 😂😂. I do hope this meets your expectations and I’m sorry if it doesn’t. All I know is I was breaking my own damn heart writing this 😭 💔.

—————————————————————————

You left a note pinned to your bed. You had changed into all black clothing. Your bag packed with most of your belongings slung over your shoulder, your hair pulled back a black hood pulled to cover your head. You were perched on the window seal taking one final look around the precious space of your room. You saying one last goodbye, you were leaving your home, you were leaving Velaris. Your heart cracked into a million pieces, but it was the right thing to do. You had too. By the time they would return from their trip and stumble into your room you’d be long gone. Some part of you wished that things could be different and that it didn’t have to be this way. The bigger half knew better, you had to do this. It was the only thing you had left, and you had endured enough pain to last you hundreds of life times. It was time to say goodbye. You turned away hopping off the ledge and down the River house. You landed gracefully and quietly.

“ Are you sure about this?” A male voice whispered to you. You looked up to your old room and the rest of the house. Your heart heavy, you turned to the male who spoke to you. Fiery red hair and a golden eye stared back at you, his face expressing that of sadness. Lucien was the only one who you talked to about this. He was your ticket out. Everyone was too close, he never asked too many questions only when he figured you needed consulting that he bombarded you with them. You two were close enough to consider one another as good friends.

“ Yes, Lucien. We’ve been over this a hundred times. We are burning moonlight” You sighed quietly walking over to him.

“ I know, but I think you should stay. Everyone will be devastated. I’m sure you can speak with Rhys and Feyre, tell them the truth-“

“ That won’t change anything. It doesn’t matter what I say, nothing will change the fact that I need to leave. It’s just easier that way” You tell him while the two of you walk further away from the home.

“Did I ever tell you how I knew this young human turned high fae who instead of running away from her mate she ran towards him '' He says as the two of you come to a halt, realizing that you both were far enough from the home to make traveling much easier and more discrete. He scoops you into his arms. He braces himself so that he can winnow you.

“ Lucien I’m not changing my mind”

“Right, well it was worth another attempt”

—-

You were gone, with no traces left of you. Everyone had panicked, they searched the entire home, the house of wind and the town house. There was nothing. Standing in the foyer of the river house everyone’s gaze shifted to Azriel. They knew of the mating bond between you two, however what they didn’t know was that he rejected the bond. Azriel was hesitant and he did almost accept it but his mind kept drifting to Mor. He couldn’t let her go even if he tried. He didn’t want to either. Yet every day much like Lucien you strived to at least to get to know him and you did. What he didn’t know was that you loved him. No one knew except Lucien. You two shared similarities more than you realized. The only difference was Elain was beginning to come around. Azriel was never going to come around.

Azriel attempted to reach you through the mating bond only to find a cold numbness. You both couldn’t exactly break the bond but you could block each other. Azriel considered that as one possibility. While his mind went to a dark place, where someone could have kidnapped you and dosed you with faebane, it was his job to assume the worst. Azriel couldn’t take his mind off you, for a moment he was searching for his friend, then the next his mate, then back to his friend. His eyes searched the room for Mor finding her near the fire place, her expression filled with pain and sadness. She had lost one person she was close to. It broke his heart to see her in that state. Feyres voice broke him from his train of thought.

“ Did any of you find anything?” Feyre asked, looking between each member. Rhys pinched the bridge of his nose. His body is rigid and tense.

“ Not a thing. She covered her tracks well” Cassin crosses his arms as he rocks himself on his feet.

“ That’s because she does not want to be found” Lucien says as he walks through the threshold of the living room. Everyone was standing except for Elain and Nesta. All of their pointed gazes turned directly towards him. Lucien looked past everyone, his eyes landing directly on Azriel. His shadows danced around him furiously. He was hurt, angry, confused. He didn't know what to say or what to expect from you.

“ Why would she not want to be found?” Mor asked as she turned away from the fireplace. She couldn’t understand why you would make such a drastic move such as this one. This was out of the ordinary for even you, there had to be a reason why you’d disappear without a trace, it just wasn’t like you. The strangest part was that you had asked Lucien to take you wherever you went. “ Why would she bother asking you to take her?” She asked Lucien as she stared him down while he started Azriel down.

“Because she trusted me more than she trusted the rest of you” He says simply.

“ She’s only known you for half a second. Why would she put all her faith into you? ” Azriel bounced off of Mors questions. She was right , it was rather odd for you to take off the way you did. This wasn’t normal behavior which meant something was extremely wrong. Azriel was your friend first before your mate, he will always be your friend first, right now as your friend trusting someone like Lucien was always questionable. Again his gaze shifted to Mor who was biting her lip, she began to pace, her mind must’ve been racing a mile a minute. He wanted to reach out and hold-no not right now he can’t not when you were gone.

“She had her reasons. I did not press the issue because she did not wish to talk about it.” Lucien glares at Azriel.

“ So you simply let her walk away with no questions of your own” Azriel challenged.

“ You want an explanation for a question that I can’t give you”

“ Why? Because she has sworn you to secrecy” Mor hissed. “ You know something. She must’ve said a word, a phrase, anything!”

Cassian asked, arms still crossed. “Is it possible she could’ve left a note?”

“ There may be a possibility, Cass check her room see if you find anything that might give us an idea of where she headed or why she took off” Rhys ordered his brother turned general. Cassian gave him a curt nod heading off to your room.

“ Elain is there a chance you could’ve seen this in your vision?” Feyre asked her sister as she walked over to her.

Elain shook her head. “ No I can’t get a read on her, she won’t allow me into her mind. Her future is blocked from me”

“ I can’t get a read on her either” Rhys says as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “ Azriel? What of the mating bond?”

Azriel’s sharpened gaze stayed trained on Lucien “Nothing, it’s quiet on her end. Too quiet.” Even as Azriel rejected the bond he still remained protective of you, though his heart yearned for Mor. Lucien tightened his gaze on Azriel the two stared each other down. Cassian bounded down the stairs quickly as he reached the threshold a piece of paper tucked into his hand. “ She left a note. It’s addressed to you Feyre” He walkes over to her handing her the folded paper.

“ Me?” She looks between him and the paper hesitantly taking it from him.

“ What” Mor gasped “ She-let me see the note”

“ No, Mor I don’t think you should see this”

“ Let me read the note” Azriel says, if anyone should, he prefers it was him who witness it, you were his mate. It had to account for something. Even if his heart belongs to Mor and not yours. Was that selfish, to want to still take ownership of you but be in love with another. No, it was deeply wrong. Yet he found himself hurt and curious.

Feyre however needed time to think and with a note that could possibly explain your whereabouts and why you specifically chose her to read it. She could only assume that you had figured out Azriel’s love for Mor. If that was the case then the entirety of the situation would start an internal conflict for Mor herself. A conflict of a truth that could be forced out into the open. Tonight would not be the night for that. As if Rhys had peaked into Feyres mind he says “- As much as we all are curious about her note I suggest everyone take the evening off, we can deal with this tomorrow.-“

“You can’t be serious?! She could be in trouble! She could be hurting and you want to wait until tomorrow!” Mor growled.

“ Easy Girl” Amren says as she moves from the window to stand by Mor. Mor turned to glare at Amren, her chest heaving up and down furious.

“Our friend is out there, somewhere, possibly hurting, and you want me to take it easy. You have some nerve-“

“ Girl you watch your tongue before I rip it out of your blonde head-“ Rhys and Cassian jumped to action moving the women away from each other. Nesta and Elain standing up from the couch, Nesta made quick work to push Elain protectively behind her. Rhys held his second in command away from everyone, to which Amren was rather calm but more or less annoyed at the theatrics. Cassian wrapped his arms around Mor holding her close to his chest.

“ It was my fault. I didn’t want it to be this way. Not like this-“ Azriel starts his shadows becoming droopy and hidden behind him. This was because of him, he hadn’t realized it until now, the note, the fighting, the way he wanted to recuse Mor, instead of searching for you. Shame itched at him.

Mor pushed against Cassian to let her go. “ What are you talking about?-”Mor asked as she struggled against Cassian who made no move, only holding her tightly. Everyone held their breath, this was becoming a reality. Mor shook her head. When Azriel made no move to explain his own eyes flickering to meet hers. The information fits together like puzzle pieces. There was no need to read the note because everything they needed to know was right in front of them. “- No-you- didn’t- Why would you risk the bond?! You idiot!” Mor continued to struggle in Cassian's arms. Elain places a hand over her mouth as it hung open. Nesta frozen by the words she heard mulling over the meaning.

“ I did it because I love you! Mor I fell in love with you, since I first saw you, I have always loved you. This wasn’t how I wanted to do this-“ He tells her as he steps towards her, Mors body sags in defeat, this was her last straw.

“-You-You ruined everything” Mor whispers softly, gentle tears streaming down her face. Cassian let go of Mor slowly as she pushed away from him. She moved towards the living room crossing the threshold and to the front door, she planned on staying anywhere else but the River house.

“Mor!” Azriel called out after attempting to go after her but not when Rhys stopped him. He had removed himself from Amren, placing a hand on Azriel’s shoulder.

“ Let her go” He tells him, Azriel listens and remains in his place, but his heart ripped in half, two people had walked away from him in the same night, and both were his fault.

“ She’ll come back, she always does” Cassian says as he stands on the other side of Azriel.

—

You rolled onto your side staring at the man who laid next to you. He was laying on his stomach, his arms buried beneath the pillow, his cheek resting against it. His wine red hair in a wavy mess plastered to the pillow. His hair paired well against his tan skin, a lighter color than his brother. Your heart swooned at the sight of him. You reached over caressing his cheek. You moved your hand away pushing him over to the side so you could tuck yourself under his arms. He follows suit and gives you the space to do so. You had a feeling he was awake, you could feel the rumble of a chuckle in his chest. You snuggled into his bare chest basking in his warmth. His eyes remained closed as he held you close. You shut your eyes as the two of you began to fall back asleep.

A knock was heard on your shared bedroom door. The man holding you groaned, it was your turn to giggle at him . “Eris! Y/N!?” Lucien’s voice called out to you both.

“ I am going to murder him” Eris growled.

“ No you’re not, he's my best friend and your brother.” You tell him, as he sighed roughly making you smile though you knew Eris would never harm Lucien, the two have grown closer as of recently, all thanks to you. Their brother bonds stronger than before.

“ I am coming in you both better be decent when I open this door!” Lucien says as he opens the door stepping inside. Thankfully you both were already decent. You slept in Eris’s tunic while he slept shirtless and in pants. You untangled yourself from Eris’s arms even though he protested. Eris sighed as he propped himself against a few pillows, resting an arm behind his head. You sat up cross legged under the blankets. “Oh good you both are decent”

“ What is it Lucien?” Eris asked as his amber eyes stared at his brother.

“ The ball” He tells him simply.

“ What about it?” You asked.

“ All courts are attending, including the Night Court. They had just decided and sent a reply to Helion. Elain was the one who told me '' Lucien says as Eris who was already looking at you noticed the nervous expression on your face. Lucien has turned his attention towards you.

“ I guess that means it’s time” You tell them quietly.

“ I’m afraid so” Eris replies. You both stare at each other, Eris reaches over and takes your hands in his.

Lucien had left the room, claiming he needed to get dressed and that Elain would need some help picking a matching outfit. It’s been two years since you’ve left Velaris. Two years since you last saw him. Since you left your friends. You wondered if they resented you for it. You wondered if Elain told them about you already. Lucien always reassured you that she never did even when they asked questions about her visions. You never asked him questions though, you never asked how they were, how Azriel was nor about Morrigan either. You assumed they lived happily ever after. You guessed that today would be the day where everyone would find out about one another.

You climbed out of the bed getting ready to go to the closet, Eris reached out a hand grabbing your arm pulling you back to him. You sighed, turning to look at Eris who had a mischievous smirk on his face. A silly smile slipped on your face as soon as you realized what he was going to do. “ Oh no, No-No-No we are going to be late!-Eris!” Eris yanked you back down onto the bed. Trapping you under him in attempts to kiss you.

“ Eris!” You warned him as you tried to squirm away.

“We’ll be quick I swear!” He watched you hesitate, your half on the bed and half off the bed. It was his chance to grab you again.

“That’s what you said last time!”You squealed your back landing onto the plush bed. Lips attach themselves to yours drawing you in, consuming you whole.

—-

The ball was organized as a birthday party for Helion, the Day Court planned to celebrate him. Each court was sent an invitation; this was the biggest ball of the year. It has been a long time since the courts have ever gathered together unified enough to be in the same room. Everyone was mingling amongst themselves as different courts arrived at various times of the evening. The night court had made it before Autumn. The inner circle spoke with different court members all except Azriel.

The night after you left Azriel spoke with Mor alone, he had learned the truth, about her and himself. He realized that he had made a grave mistake. For the past two years he spent the time he had searching for you. Only to come up empty each time, even Mor vouched to help him find you and there was nothing. No word from anyone. Eventually she had given up on the search, Rhys and offered for Azriel to take some time away from everyone including the search for you but he refused. Everyone had given him space and the time he needed to grieve but it made no difference.

He was haunted by the memories of you regardless. You were all he could think about for the past two year, and with the help of Mor, you were a permanent marking. Everyday he spent time working on the bond hoping to connect with you, and if he succeeded he could find you. The only problem was you were strong in blocking the mating bond. You made it near impossible to find you, to connect, to be linked to you. He admitted that you were well trained in that department. It was a task you were always good at. Still he continued with his quest on finding you. His eyes scanned the ball room, hoping and wishing for your presence, hoping to hear your voice, maybe offer you a dance while the two of you talk and ignore the crowd… But that was wishful thinking. Music played in the background as couples danced on the floor, Mor walked over to Azriel handing him a glass of wine. “ I think you’re going to need this more than I do” She tells him softly, taking a drink from her own cup.

“ What makes you think I will?” He asks, taking the glass, holding it in his hand not bothering to touch it. He eyes the crowd before eyeing the cup in his hand.

“If she isn’t here you’ll be spending the entire night in heartbreak watching all these couples, you might as well be drunk for it”

“ Maybe I don’t want that-“ Mors gasp caught him by surprise, his eyes looking at her following her gaze. There you were. As beautiful as the last time he saw you. Your hair styled perfectly, your skin glowing, you had a smile on your face so bright and full of life, your laugh echoed hitting his ears turning into a wonderful melody. Time truly seemed to slow down. Your hand was intertwined with someone else’s, a ring on your wedding finger, your outfit you had worn colored in reddish orange, the colors of autumn. It couldn’t have been Lucien, he was already waltzing on the dancing floor with Elain. Which only left one highlord Eris. He too was smiling as he spoke with Cassian and Nesta. Mor growled at the sight. Rhys and Feyre approached Azriel and Mor. Amren, as quiet as ever appeared next to her with Varian by her side, soon enough the rest of the inner circle gathered together.

“ She looks happy” Azriel says as the group turns to look at his saddened face. He had lost the one chance at happiness after he lost his first, a mistake he regretted more than anything. Had he known that Mor had never felt for him the way he had for her, then you would be in his arms now. You would be with him and not Eris.

“She does,” Rhys acknowledged Azriel’s comment, watching his brother closely. Nesta and Cassian had hugged you before leaving to head to the dance floor. You looked so relieved that they embraced you, you had turned to your husband, with yet another smile. Eris shared that smile with you as if to say I told you so. He took your hand back in his as he pulled you to the dance floor, as if he had done it many times, you fell into his arms melting into them as if you two were mated from the beginning. You swayed with him, your arms wrapped around his neck and his arms wrapped around your waist. You two spoke to each other, laughing and sharing sweet nothings. Azriel wished that it was him holding you that way, to watch you smile, and laugh effortlessly. He wanted to be Eris. He wanted to be the one wearing the wedding band that you gave him, he wanted you to wear the wedding band he gave you. He wanted what Eris had.

Nesta and Cassian had crossed the dance floor and headed to the group. Cassian had seen the pain in his brother's eyes, his own heartbreaking. He wasn’t sure what he could say that might ease Azriel’s suffering. He placed a hand on Azriel’s shoulder giving him a soft squeeze. Azriel had made up his mind “ I’m going to talk to her” everyone looked at Azriel questioning his motivation. Walking away from his friends he walks towards you. He could smell the two of you, how your scents intermingled, it was repulsive to him, he couldn’t stand the smell, instead he wished it was his smell on you. Yours on him. But it was too late for that. Eris had taken your hand and twirled you around, pulling you back to him swaying again, you giggled at his feeble attempt to flirt with you. As Azriel got closer he fought the urge to kill and maim him right where he was. Azriel reached you both and cleared his throat. You and Eris looked towards Azriel, the smiles slipping from both of your faces. Azriel wished he hadn’t been the one to make your smile fall.

“ Do you mind if I cut in?” He asks.

Eris looks at you first ignoring his request. You sighed, you knew this time was going to come, Eris tightened his hold on you. Your heart smiled at his protectiveness. You gave Eris a nod of approval. He looked at you for a little while longer, leaning down and kissed your cheek. You offered him a sweet smile as he reached up and caressed your cheek. He turned away from you heading off in another direction, he glared at Azriel who returned the stare down. Azriel smiled gently to which you had taken his outstretched hand. You kept the hold simple, placing your hands on his shoulders. His hands remained on your waist. You were hesitant, you shifted uncomfortably.

Azriel cleared his throat “ How are you?”

For this you smiled, your eyes traveled to Eris who was speaking with Lucien for a moment before looking back to Azriel. “ I am better. And You?”

“ I-it could be better-” He admits. “There is something that I’d like to ask you”

“ Alright”

“ What drew you away from me?”

“ Azriel I don’t think-“

“I would like to know”

You sighed the weight returning to your chest. “ I-I left because you were in love with Mor. The way you looked at her was the way I wished you’d look at me. I waited for you for years, and you never-it was never going to work. You love her, she is the one you wanted. I wasn’t going to get in the way of that.-” You shrugged lightly. You shook your head at the old memories that were embedded in your mind and heart. “-You told her how you felt and she said no to you didn’t she?” You looked him in the eyes. The bond may have been blocked but you were still able to read him like an open book. You knew him better than he knew himself. Azriel looked away, he came to you for a second chance because his first rejected him. You stopped moving, not bothering to sway with the music any longer.

“ I can explain myself-“ His heart had no more pieces to break, it was already shattered.

“ Unrequited love can be painful, can it not?” You tell him your voice pained.

“ Yes, but I understand now what it feels like-“

“ You think that you do but you don’t Az. Its different when you reject a mate, that bond is sacred. And you threw it away.” You tell him with no cruelty in the words only the truth, the reality. He was expecting you to shout at him, hit him, yell at him, but you did none of those things.

“ Y/N-“ his own voice cracks.

You shake your head “ No, Azriel. I am happy-I-I have a family that cares for me, A husband who loves me, and I love him. You can't ask me to leave them because I won’t”

“I understand…” Azriel’s gaze drops from your eyes to the floor, completely broken and defeated. His own eyes pricked with tears. You wrapped your arms around Azriel’s neck pulling him in for a hug.

“ You deserve to be loved Az. Never forget that.” You whispered to him as you held him. Azriel wrapped his arms around your waist holding onto you tightly. He never wanted to leave your embrace, but it was too late for that. It was something he would keep with him forever. You pulled away sliding from his embrace, your hands slipped past each other one last time. Azriel watched as you made your way back to your husband who smiled once your gaze settled on him. He extended his hand towards you and you took it with no hesitation. You had not looked back once as the two of you left the hall wrapped in each other's arms. Azriel watched you walk right out of his arms into another. You were right, it was a different feeling, more painful than anything he had ever experienced. You were bonded to him but you fell in love with Eris. This was the pain you felt when you had watched him fall for Mor as you were bound to him.

He truly understood the weight of the bond and it’s worth.

#x reader #poc reader #imagines #fanfic #x poc reader #fanfic readers #x you #x y/n #bipoc writers #angst #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel x reader #azriel x female!reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x y/n #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris x you #eris x y/n

[suzayaaa]

BOYFRIEND CRITERIA - 천러

pairing: chenle x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

theme: non-idol!chenle, angst? fluff? hmm…, suggestive if you force it to be, bestfriends to lovers

warnings: mentions of food, cursing

suza’s note: the amount of time it took me to write this is an absolute crime

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“I’m coming over.” Chenle’s voice buzzed through your phone speaker.

“No, you’re not?” You frown at your best friend’s statement, but keep your eyes focused on the mobile game you’re playing.

“Yes, I am!”

“I won’t speak.”

“Then we’ll sit in silence. Keep the door unlocked.”

“Chenle-” Before you can tell him off, he hangs up and you throw your phone on your bed with a groan.

Chenle has been extremely stubborn about ‘helping’ you deal with your breakup. You two had become friends long before you met your now ex-boyfriend, and he saw every stage of your past relationship.

You always knew the relationship wasn’t going to be long-term. It was obvious, you two were too different to be able to handle each other. But you had fun, so you stayed. You never felt any deeper connection to your ex though—attraction was the most you could call it.

Still, cutting the strings off is always difficult, no matter who it is. Letting go of someone is a decision most people are afraid to make, but sometimes it’s inevitable. You knew you had to change something when the adrenaline wasn’t as high as usual during your dates and the makeout sessions became forgettable, yet you were too immature for that change. You ignored it, saying maybe it’s temporary or it’s just a bad day. After all, he wasn’t a bad guy, and you were scared to hurt his feelings.

You didn’t expect your ex to be the first one to break the bubble, and you didn’t expect it to affect you.

So, at first, you understood Chenle. He helped you work through your emotions and find yourself in a new, single, reality. His everyday efforts made the post-breakup depression somewhat enjoyable, and as much as you appreciate your best friend, you really wish he could leave you alone. At least for a day.

It’s been a month.

You’re all good now. You’ve moved on. The past is the past and you live in the present. You don’t need anyone to babysit you, yet Chenle still won’t leave you even for a second “in case you’re feeling bad and don’t want to tell him”.

That’s why you don’t react when you hear a series of loud knocks and the front door snaps open. You also don’t react when he yells your name so loudly that the whole building can hear, and you keep ignoring him when he appears at your bedroom door, a blush on his nose caused by the cold weather and two bags in hand.

He comes to your bed, stopping right in front of it, drops the bags on your sheets, and looks at you incredulously. “You’re seriously not gonna talk?” You keep your stare at the traffic outside the window, but see from your peripheral vision that Chenle started to unpack the bags. “I brought us snacks on the way,” he puts the snacks next to you and you can’t help but turn your head to look at them. “If you won’t talk, then eat.”

You watch him sit next to you and rest his back against the headboard, and you take a pack of your favorite cookies. You open it and start munching on a cookie in silence as Chenle plays with his phone while rambling about his day to you.

You want to talk to him, but you’re a woman of words. When you say something, you stick to it—doesn’t matter how stupid it is. Chenle is the same. You two are probably the most stubborn people on this planet, so you both always hold onto whatever comes to your mind. Yet despite your strong personality, he always finds a way to break you.

Chenle sacrifices every minute of his free time to spend it with you and to possibly make your day better. He spends his money to treat you and adjusts himself to you and your special needs.

You’re his princess, even though you tell him you can handle yourself a hundred times a day. The gap between the favors you do for each other is monumental, yet he never complains.

You rest your back against the headboard and decide to give up your principles again.

“Nevermind,” your mumble cuts his rambles and he gives you an unimpressed side-eye.

“Now you talk?”

“Don’t be rude to me. That’s my privilege.”

“Did that guy have those privileges too?” He asks, almost mockingly, not even sparing you a glance.

“What are you talking about?” You cringe at his weird behavior and put the cookie away.

“Who could I possibly be talking about? Or is there someone new?” You snap your head and glare at him as you hear him scoff.

“Chenle, what the fuck are you talking about? And why are you even mentioning him? I told you so many times! He’s my ex, I’m over him. He’s irrelevant now.”

“I don’t know.”

“But I do! Besides, he wasn’t like I want my boyfriend to be.”

“What do you want then?”

You stare at him, weirded out by the sudden change of topic, but you brush it off.

“Well…” You straighten your posture and look up. “I want someone handsome and confident. Someone honest and straightforward, a good kisser too,” you smirk at your own words. “Someone who will take care of me, a guy with a good sense of humor, and someone I have great chemistry with…” Your smile slowly fades as thoughts rush to your head, “someone who’s willing to spend their free time with me,” and your voice shrinks as you realize. “Someone… Um…”

“Someone what?” Chenle’s unreadable expression makes you want to curl up and die. You quickly try to come up with an excuse, but his stare on you leaves your mind completely blank.

“You know what, nevermind, I don’t know,” you cover your mouth with your hand and turn your head away from him. You quickly get up from your bed and try to leave the room. “Actually, I think you should go home now.”

“Why?” He gets up and walks towards you. “Because you just described me?”

You freeze. Your stare gets stuck on the floor and you gulp nervously, “Uh, what? No, I didn’t.” He scoffs again and looks at the back of your head.

“Right, there’s one thing you don’t know yet.”

He turns you around so you can face him and lifts your chin with his fingers, never breaking eye contact.

“You don’t know how I kiss.”

He puts his hand on your nape, carefully caressing your neck with his thumb. His eyes flick from yours to your lips and he’s so close you can feel his breath on your face and your heartbeat pressing to his chest. Your fingers brush against his on your chin and he intertwines your hands, pulling them down. You look at him closely, your mouth slightly open.

When your eyes meet again, nothing matters anymore. All you feel is his delicate touch, all you see is his beautiful face, all you hear is his quiet breathing. The smell of his perfume surrounds you and pulls you closer than you have ever been. He looks at your lips again. You nod your head and the butterflies in your stomach explode when your lips finally meet.

The kiss is all Chenle. The taste of the snacks you ate earlier mixes in your mouths, his warm hands calmly play with your hair and fingers as he softly bites your lip. You don’t want to ever let go, the tender touches and playful smiles make you go feral. Just as you put your free hand on his waist to pull him closer, Chenle stops and slowly moves away from you.

He looks at you and gulps. “Did I ruin us?”

Your eyes stay focused on his pink and slightly swollen lips. It’s like he put a spell on you, all you can think of is the euphoria you felt seconds ago. “No, not at all.” You wrap your arms around his neck and close the gap between you one more time.

Chenle breaks out into a smile and kisses you back, this time more confidently. His hands go to your waist and hold you tightly, your fingers find a way to lightly pull at Chenle’s locks. The kiss is more steady now, more secure. Knowing the feeling is mutual puts you both at ease, and you use this moment to the fullest, enjoying every touch. You alternate between little pecks, deep kisses, teasing smooches, and everything you can think of until you satisfy your hunger for each other.

You pull away but stay in the embrace, looking into each other’s eyes lovingly. Chenle scans the blush on your cheeks and smirks.

“So, do I fit your boyfriend criteria?”

You throw your head back with a laugh. “Yeah. 100%.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

#why was the cookie so important #idk #nct fanfic #nct x reader #nct reactions #nct scenarios #nct drabbles #nct imagines #nct oneshot #nct angst #nct fluff #nct dream fanfic #nct dream fic #nct dream x reader #nct dream reactions #nct dream scenarios #nct dream drabbles #nct dream imagines #nct dream oneshot #nct dream angst #nct dream fluff #chenle fanfic #chenle fic #chenle x reader #chenle reactions #chenle scenarios #chenle drabbles #chenle imagines #chenle angst #chenle fluff

[lelengerine]

for ur mini drabble event could u do a bookstore au with haechan plss 😆 thank u!!

our secret spot

pairing | haechan x reader

genre | bookstore au, nicknames are used for reader and haechan (pretty & hyuckie respectively), no pronouns are explicitly used (but disclaimer: i did make it with a fem!reader in mind ><)

wc | 1.6k a little way longer than i thought this would become... errr

notes | i miss writing for hyuck so much huhu i’m so glad i’m actually getting back into it now that i have the time T^T to anon, im sorry this took so long but i hope you still like it !!

this is part of my drabble req event here!

m.list

with the amount of times you frequent bookstores, your friends have started pointing out how you’re beginning to smell like books yourself- was that comment a jab or a compliment? honestly, you’d take it as the latter from how fond you are of them.

“y/n, it’s literally the start of christmas break! don’t tell me you’re going to that one bookstore again…” you practically hear the pout in your friend, ningning’s, voice. “we’re planning to go out together later in the evening with minjeong and the others, don’t forget!”

“i won’t, i won’t!” a chuckle resounds from your end, “but what’s wrong with dropping by the bookstore every now and then?”

“you always say that!” your friend grumbles before eventually ending with a sigh, “i admire how you love books to this extent, but remember not to bury your nose in them too much, okay? i still want to see your face a bunch during the break.”

“and i’ll make sure of it, don’t worry ning.” you coo at her through the phone, “i really gotta go now though, i still have a bunch of books to return.”

“okay fineee, don’t trip on your way there or whatever.” her words make you laugh a little — and though they may sound a bit dismissive, you know it’s completely out of love and worry for you.

“i will!” you respond before the call goes silent, now packing your phone into a sling bag along with a couple of books you borrowed from your last visit.

what ningning said earlier was pretty much true, you were going back to your favorite bookstore that was only two blocks away from where you lived. aside from the convenience of its location, you were first drawn to it from the fact they allowed the borrowing of books in the first place — almost like a book rental shop.

not only was the rental fee cheap for a college student like you, but there was a little secluded area you managed to locate within the bookstore that has now become your favorite place.

sure, you had to know just where to squeeze yourself through the piles of books and shelves barricading it, but the effort was worth it, at least to you. there was a small window from the back that would shed just the right amount of light for reading in the afternoon- plus! it was quiet, mostly since it was in the far back of the store.

you enter the bookstore with a soft smile at the thought of being able to retreat back into your hidden safe space, the door’s chimes swaying lightly and making a familiar ring in your ears.

after dropping off the books that were due and picking a couple of new ones off the shelves to read, you made your way over to the furthest pile of books from the counter, sucking in a deep breath, before squeezing yourself past all of the books.

the sight of the small, cozy area brings you comfort, but… why was there someone else here? and sleeping soundly at that?

of course you were aware that there was a possibility of others knowing about your little spot, but you never imagined actually running into someone like this.

you set your books down in the corner, crouching down to meet the stranger face to face. you’re not quite sure if it's the sunlight seeping into the place from the window above but his skin glows ever so softly under the light. his fluffy hair covers up most of his eyes from the way it's messily draped, and his glasses, which look almost too perfect on him, are resting at the very edge of his nose.

'he’s… cute- wait no, i literally don’t know him,' you think to yourself before brushing off the thought, replacing it with worry about his glasses falling off.

you try poking the stranger’s arm in hopes of waking him up, yet he doesn’t budge an inch. you proceed to tap on his shoulder next, and even move up to poking his cheek really softly, but there’s still no response from the boy.

you decide that he must be really tired to not have felt your presence and lift the glasses up his nose just a little to make sure they wouldn’t slip.

surely he won’t mind if you stick around here to read now after all that, right? you really didn’t want to read in the open areas where there’s even more people roaming around.

coming to a self-made conclusion, you tuck yourself away in the opposite corner of the cramped space, opening one of your books to start reading without another word.

he stirs up a little bit after you’ve finished a chapter of the book in your hands, soon bringing a hand up to rub the drowsiness off his eyes — forgetting he was wearing glasses to begin with.

“what-” he blinks once, almost as if he was in disbelief of the sight before him, “i’m not seeing things, aren’t i…?”

“what things?” your soft-spoken question somehow knocks the sleepiness our of his system, now staring at you with wide eyes.

“OH MY GOD I THOUGHT I WAS-” you quickly cover his mouth with your hand, trying to drown out the noise he was making.

“you’re in a bookstore! remember that.” you purse your lips together, removing your hand once you were sure he calmed down. “plus, i’m not sure if we’re technically allowed here.”

“sorry, i was just really shocked. i didn’t know other people knew this place existed.” he murmurs, acting rather bashful — from all your assumptions earlier, you didn’t think his personality would be like this.

“i hope you don’t mind. i just wanted a spot to read quietly. there’s too many people outside.” you shy away, covering half your face with the book in your hands.

“no, no! it’s fine i… i don’t mind sharing.” he shrugs, moving his things to make more room for you to be comfortable.

“really?” your eyes seem to light up at his approval, and he can’t help but look away. from all the people who could’ve stumbled upon him, it just had to be you — his classmate whom he’d been crushing on since the first semester.

though, you don’t seem to recognize him, probably because he sat at the back with a cap over his head during most of the classes. but that was okay, you didn’t really need to know and maybe he could tell you another time.

“thank you! i was worried you’d be some sort of creep, but you’re pretty nice!” you start getting a little chatty now that you’ve both said more than five words to each other, and he can only feign offense to your blunt words.

“do i look like someone who’d be a creep?” he asks with a dramatic gasp, peering closer to your corner of the small space.

“i don’t mean that! even if i did say… exactly that…” you ramble off, feeling a little guilty of not filtering your words, but from the looks of it, he was only teasing you.

“sure you didn’t mean it, pretty.” he replies sarcastically with the sudden nickname rolling off his lips, catching both you and him off guard. “oh- sorry i didn’t mean it like that.”

you feel your cheeks warm up, going back to hiding your face with your book. thank god you were reading just a while ago. “it’s alright, uh, what’s your name anyways?”

“oh right, people refer to me as haechan, but you can just call me hyuck.” he replies, wondering if his name would ring a bell in your mind.

“i see… it’s nice meeting you hyuck! i’m y/n.” he genuinely can’t tell if you recognize him or not anymore at this point, well, not like it mattered anyways. the two of you had never talked in class so this was basically his first time actually meeting you.

“well, y/n, seems you’re no longer reading. am i too distracting for you?” haechan jokes lightly, causing you to laugh a little.

“and what if i said yes? go face the corner or something, why don’t you!” you jest before going back to actually finish the page you were on.

a small wave of silence passes by, yet it’s not really as uncomfortable as you thought it’d be, in fact, it felt nice knowing you had company for once.

“will you come back here again after today?” he asks abruptly, fiddling with his fingers as you continue to read.

“hm? yeah, probably.” you answer mindlessly, the sound of a page flipping becoming apparent.

“then you’ll meet me here again, won’t you?” that has you peering up from the lines of your book, now noticing the hopeful glint in the boy’s eyes.

“yeah, sure hyuck.” you smile at him and his heart goes a little haywire. “i’ll see you same time next week?”

“mhm, yeah, okay, nice-”

“you’re rambling.” you point out with a cheery laugh, “i’ll be taking that as a yes though.”

his face flushes, and he’s not entirely sure if it’s caused by embarrassment or infatuation. “yeah, it’s a yes. in this secret spot that’s… now our secret spot.” he replies, mumbling the latter parts of his words to himself.

“did you say something?”

“nope! keep reading your book, y/n. you get distracted too easily.”

“sure… i’m watching you hyuckie!” you gesture your eyes with your fingers as you speak, and he can only laugh at you with the fluttery feeling in his chest growing by the second.

#lelengerine drabble event #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #nct angst #nct dream angst #haechan fluff #haechan angst #donghyuck fluff #donghyuck angst #nct imagines #nct drabbles #nct dream imagines #nct dream drabbles

[after-witch]

Interdimensional Apartment 4A [Yandere Feitan x Reader]

Title: Interdimensional Apartment 4A [Yandere Feitan x Reader[

Synopsis: Feitan doesn’t know that you’re an interdimensional traveler with a penchant for period films and novels from home at first–but that doesn’t stop him from wanting you.

Word Count: 3000ish

notes: yandere, some violence and blood, stalking

You don’t leave your apartment all that often. You don’t have many friends--though the few you have, you seem close with, a little less guarded, a little less wary. You’re quieter around strangers, around people whom you pass on the way into your apartment but have no connection with otherwise. You like books, and he’s seen you travel to the library and the bookstore more often than anywhere else. Though sometimes your TV blares out from behind the walls of your apartment, with sounds and music unfamiliar to him.

Your appearance is more vibrant than your personality, at least in front of people other than your friends. You have multiple piercings--six, he’s counted, including one of your bellybutton that he glimpsed when you had to reach up high to grab something on a library shelf. When you smile, a gem shows on your teeth; a gem, he thinks, that only your friends have seen, considering your tendency to keep to yourself around others. 

You seem normal enough. Quiet enough. Not exactly a wallflower, but not some social butterfly either. Somewhere in between. 

So what is it that draws him towards you? What has him returning to your apartment, your space, day after day? 

You don’t have nen. You’re not a fighter. You don’t seem to do anything remarkable, day in, day out. 

It couldn’t be your ordinariness that attracts him, could it? That is something he left behind so long ago that he doesn’t recall a time when ‘ordinary’ was even in his grasp. Maybe he’s more nostalgic than he knows, and he’s pulled to you for something he can’t have in his own waking life.

Maybe not. 

It could be your appearance. You’re pleasant to look at, he can admit. But it’s not like he normally cares about things like that. Maybe he could admit that the way your vibrant pink curls sometimes bounce around while you walk, the way they frame your face, is… nice. Pleasing. Something  he thinks about at night a few times, unwilling, before shutting the image out of his head.

It’s you, really, that won’t leave his head. That’s why he’s here right now, in the hallway leading to your apartment. You’re out and about… you probably left before he arrived this morning. Maybe to the bookstore, maybe to the coffee shop. Or both. 

It was easy enough to get a copy of your key. Child’s play, really. It’s simpler this way: no need to worry about neighbors hearing a window or door breaking, no signs that he was inside at all. That’s just what he wants. To sit and wait for you to get back, snatch you up, and take you away. 

It will help rid him of his incessant thoughts about you, if he’s able to keep you in one place. Then he can simply visit you whenever he wants, and do whatever he wants, and say whatever he wants. He can be satisfied knowing that you are under his thumb and he’s no longer controlled by this pulling, tugging thoughts of you. 

Or so he hopes. 

The outside of your apartment is an ordinary brown door, and he’s not thinking about it at all until he unlocks it and swiftly enters, locking the door behind him. He’s not thinking about it because why would he assume your apartment is anything but normal--

Only it’s not. 

There’s something very, very wrong the moment he enters the apartment. Because once he takes a look around, he sees that it’s impossibly large. Outside, there are two windows: one for each room, a bedroom and the rest of your place. Small. Cheap. 

But inside? No, this is not the inside of a one bedroom apartment. You have a large kitchen and a separate dining room, a living room, he spots at least one bathroom and several bedrooms. This is a sprawling house.

He pinches his arm with his fingernails, waiting until blood bubbles up to stop. No, he isn’t dreaming. 

Perhaps it’s some type of nen? But he didn’t detect any nen on you. But obviously this is no ordinary space, and you must have some secret he’s missed, despite his dedicated watching of you over the past few weeks.

He takes a tentative step forward. It’s a real floor. Real as anything outside. He walks until he’s in front of shelves shoved up against your wall, stacked with movies. He runs a  finger over them. He hasn’t heard of these titles, which wouldn’t normally come to mind but… it makes him wonder. There’s something off about the movies, the way they’re packaged, their names. There’s something off about this place. And you, clearly.

But what? 

He waits for only a few moments before making a new plan. He can’t simply kidnap you and take you. Not unless he knows what he’s in for. He leaves just as easily as he came, locking the door with his duplicate key.

Outside, your apartment looks just as small as it always had. But now he knows there’s something secret underneath. Something he’ll need to dig his nails into, pulling the truth out of you, before the end of things. 

--

It’s not the first time you’ve had an inkling that someone has been inside your apartment. 

After all, it’s not terribly uncommon for someone to track you down for one reason or another. It’s always been someone from another dimension--yours, most often, but not always--who has been watching your movements through portals before making a move. 

True, you weren’t supposed to use dimension travel for such casual means, but who cared about the rules when you were having such fun? It wasn’t like you were the type to go on wild sprees, stealing or robbing or causing havoc in another dimension for popping off to another one.

You were just enjoying life here, occasionally popping back home to grab your favorite things. I mean, how could anyone survive without a copy of James Cameron’s Titanic on DVD, or the full series box set of Sailor Moon? Just quick trips before heading back to your apartment here. 

But for once, you don’t think that the person in your room was someone following you from your home dimension or anywhere else that you’ve traveled. There are signs, normally, that they’ve been here--and none of them are present now. 

There’s just the soft, innate realization that your space has been occupied by someone who isn’t you. Something primal. 

It makes you wonder. 

It makes you worry.

--

Shalnark did most of the legwork here. Feitan will owe him, which isn’t something he likes to do--but it’s worth it, in some cases. Like this one. He’s found out more about you than he might have, even sifting through the belongings of your unusual apartment. Though that hasn’t stopped him from revisiting when you’re not home, taking souvenirs--a book, a knickknack, one of your worn shirts--for his own use. 

But it’s Shalnark who tells him the details. 

For one, he now knows that you can travel dimensions, or worlds, or whatever it is. It’s not nen that you have, which would explain why he’s never detected anything. It also means that it’s not something which can be stolen from you. He’d never admit it, not with words, but there’s a part of him that is glad the boss won’t get it. Such a talent would surely benefit the Troupe, but it would take something away from you. 

And the thought of that doesn’t sit right with him. It’s sour, hard, bitter in his stomach. 

--

The very first time that you see Feitan in your apartment--though you won’t know his name until later--also happens to be the exact moment you stumble back inside, closing the portal behind you in a rush, hands pressed to the bleeding wound on your side.

Feitan is standing there, one of his books in his hand, staring at you with slightly widened eyes. He blinks. Then he looks down, and sees your hands pressed to your shirt, red blood seeping through the shimmering pink fabric of your tank top.

“You’re bleeding,” he says. Shortly. Simply.

You stammer over your words, adrenaline already pumping through you from being attacked, now going even faster at the sight of a stranger in your home.

“Who--who are you?”

He smirks behind his cowl, or you imagine he does, because you can’t see anything beneath it. But the way his eyes crinkle and the gleam in them makes you assume it is a smirk.

“Talk first?” He asks, and something in his voice reminds you of metal. Sharp and tangy. “Or stop the bleeding?”

It’s your turn to blink. Underneath your fingers, warm red seeps out. A slash with a knife. Not too deep… but deep enough to worry you. You swallow, throat dry.

“Stop the bleeding.”

He jerks his head toward the bathroom--your bathroom, in your apartment, where this stranger is for some unknown reason. Your brain doesn’t allow you to think of that right now, with blood pooling between your fingers. Instead it forces you to sit on the toilet and let this stranger pull out a first aid kit, disinfecting and smoothing and sewing up your wound like he’s done this a million times before.

When he’s swiping on the last of the disinfectant over your stitches, your voice returns.

“You’re the one that’s been taking stuff from my apartment. That’s been stalking me.”

The man smirks.

“Smart girl.” 

You’re afraid, but you’re not. You’ve seen a lot, done a lot, dealt with a lot. You swallow against the grit of your throat, and glare, despite the pain and blood loss.

“Get out.”

The man blinks at you.

Then he shrugs.

And leaves, without a fight or word. 

--

“Oh, f--” You say, hissing, stopping yourself from swearing entirely.

He should be endeared, but instead, Feitan is listening to the audio tracker he planted in your apartment with an increasingly hot fury.

He hates you. He can’t stop listening. He can’t stop checking in.

He can’t stop thinking about you.

He hates it, even as thinking about you stirs something in his stomach, his chest, every nerve of his body.

“Is it supposed to be oozing?” You murmur, before letting out another pained little cry.

He sighs. He clenches his fingers tighter.

Then he leaves. 

--

You hear the lock in your apartment door, register the sound of it clicking, just before the door swings open and the stranger from before walks in. 

He has a key--he has a key?!

You jump, and the movement makes you wince.

He stares at you.

You stare at him.

He glances down, where you’re currently cradling your wound.

“Um,” you say. And it’s not much, but in the little sound, in the way you look at him, eyes wide, it says much more than you realize in the moment. 

You could swear he’s scowling behind the black cowl over his face. His eyes look intense enough. 

“Stupid,” he says. “You didn’t clean it right.”

He jerks his chin towards the bathroom and you only hesitate a moment before following him into a repeated routine of disinfecting and awkward silences.

Only this time, you start talking. About yourself. About how you tried to clean it, really, but you’re a bit squeamish. About how your favorite pink shirt is stained now--he glances up at that, how odd--and you’ll have to find a new one.

More silence. More stinging from efficient swipes of a disinfected cloth.

“What’s your name?” You ask.

He pauses entirely. Like he’s been frozen in time, and for the silliest of seconds you think maybe he was and perhaps he travels time like you travel dimensions--and then he sets the cloth down and looks straight at your face. It’s unnerving. You break his gaze before he speaks.

“Feitan,” he says. 

And then he waits until the silence has stretched out so long that you look back at him, to find he’s still staring at you.

This time, when he speaks, he tells you your name. And where you were born. And that you travel dimensions.

Ah. 

Is it strange that you can only let out a little laugh?

“I like to travel,” you say, letting your lower lip slide through your teeth. You catch him staring at your tooth gem, and somehow that feels nice, despite the absolute shitshow of a situation you’re currently in. 

“Not by plane,” he murmurs. You get the sense that it’s his idea of a joke, and you laugh, a short, disbelieving little thing.

When he’s completely finished, you stand up.

“Why did you help me?”

He shrugs, and seems to be genuinely considering the answer.

“Don’t want to deal with your dead body. Too much work. Too many favors to call in.”

You don’t ask to whom he would owe favors, or what kind of work he’d have to do. Instead you let out a sigh and double check your freshly cleaned wound in the mirror, keeping an eye on him in the glass.

“Hey, Feitan?” He doesn’t respond, but locks eyes with you in the mirror. “This is, uh, really bizarre and all but would you maybe want to--”

He leaves without a word, pivoting on the floor like some sort of wind-up doll. You hear the front door shut before you can think to follow him. What a strange man.

--

Stranger still--he comes back.

Even stranger… you let him.

Maybe it’s because he helped you out, twice. Maybe it’s because you can tell he’s strong--the name rings a bell, vaguely, but you’re not really caught up on the lore for this world and you’ve been a lot more careful with your trips since he revealed he knew all about them.

Maybe it’s something else, that you can’t quite pinpoint. 

He tells you that the only reason he’s here is to check on your wound, because you’re too stupid to take care of it. But he doesn’t seem to mind when  you begin to talk, or even when you insist on him taking care of you in the living room so you can put on a few of your favorite movies. He doesn’t even seem to mind when your stilted questions turn to you talking more freely, asking if he wants to see your book collection, if there is anything he might compare certain movies or books to in this world. 

And if he doesn’t usually answer--and when he does, it’s a few words--you don’t really mind. It’s better than thinking about the reality of the situation; the answers to questions you don’t want to ask, like, “Hey, did you take my favorite tank top from my laundry hamper 3 weeks ago?”

--

He can’t take you. He can’t make you be with him in the way he wants. He can’t take you, make you, break you--or lock you in a basement. 

So what the hell else is he meant to do but go back? 

It’s to make sure you don’t die before he comes up with a plan B. That’s all. Of course.

And if you begin to talk freely at him, almost choking the air with words that go from halted and silting to smooth and singsong, telling him about the things you like, how different your world is, how people would have a fit if they knew what was inside your outwardly small and dingy apartment…

Is it his fault if he doesn’t stop you?

No.

Is it his fault that you’re feeding him more than you ought to, really, if you knew what was good for you?

Also no.

You make your own bed with every word, stitching together a tapestry that he finds himself wanting to wrap himself in. To keep warm. And something else. Something he can sense deep down but doesn’t want to put into words, at the risk of it ripping everything already built up right down the seams. 

--

Feitan, you think, is like a cat. Not a nice cat. Not one that curls up in your lap. But one who sits on your windowsill and hisses if you look at him, but who will sit contently if you’re in the same room reading a book. (And who, if pressed, might just claw you. You don’t want to find out just what clawing might entail with him.)

And he does sit contently in your room while you read. Just, you know, not on your windowsill. Instead he perches on the end of a lounge chair in your room, as if the pink upholstery will seep into his clothing if he gets too comfortable. He almost looks a bit funny, sometimes, amidst the ultra-pink frills of your bedroom. But you don’t tell him so--you don’t think he’d like that type of teasing.

On this particular afternoon, he’s sitting, saying nothing much while you’re getting to an incredibly juicy part of this new book--

When he perks up.

“Someone’s coming.” He says it quickly and to the point and you have just one moment where your nerves are on fire, where you manage to say “Huh?”--before you hear the front door of your apartment being forced open by someone.

No, multiple someones.

Feitan is on his feet before you are, and you’re still half-curled on your bed when a group of people burst through the open doorway of your bedroom. Strong people, with weapons and efficiency and ah. 

They’re Hunters. They must be here for you. Someone found out what you can do (did Feitan tell? No, you don’t think so) and you’re about to be experimented on or held hostage or something worse. You start forming a plan in your mind, a portal to home, maybe, and you could take Feitan too.

But first, you need to keep an eye on the Hunters.

They appear confused, and you quickly realize why. They’re looking around at the size of your apartment, at the spacious rooms that can’t possibly exist. Someone mutters something about not knowing Feitan had this kind of nen. 

“We’re not here for you,” one of them says, a tall man with sunglasses, gesturing at you with his bulky chin. “We’re here for him. Just stay put and you won’t get hurt.”

You hear Feitan snort.

“You’re here for… Feitan?” You ask, slowly, tentatively. “But why? He’s just--” 

“You fucking idiot,” a woman in the rear of the group says, nearly spitting out the words. “Don’t you know who he is? Christ, you’re as dumb as this pink bedroom.”

You don’t really have time to process the words. Feitan turns, just a little, and takes a step to stand in between you and the group. 

“You,” he says, looking straight at the woman, “are very stupid.”

And… the way he says it has none of the sticky condescension the word held when he reserved that moniker for you. 

But you don’t get the luxury of thinking about that. Instead, you get to see Feitan hold up his hand.  His nails extend, like claws--no, no. Like knives. Sharp. Deadly.

In a blink, two blinks, three blinks, all of the Hunters are on the ground. There’s red splattered on your walls, against the pink curtains ghosting your window, a splotch of dark red gore on your strawberry-themed lamp.

You sit back down on  your bed, hard, fast. There is a bit of blood--whose?--on your clothing. You hope it’s only on your clothing. It’s like the air has been knocked out of you in just a few moments. How did you go from enjoying a book in the admittedly intense company of a stalker who has helped you not-die to sitting in front of a pile of massacred corpses, killed solely by someone’s fingernails?

Feitan sighs, and the sound is like a rope that you cling to; the only thing that makes sense right now.

“Shizuku will come to clean it up,” he says, as if you know what this means. “She owes me.”

Feitan turns, then, to look at you. You wonder what he sees, because you’re not entirely sure of what he might find himself.

“Going to run away?” he asks. His gaze hard and considering.

Slowly, you shake your head. And there, something else you can cling to--the sensation of your curls against your face, framing it. Your hair is there. You are there. You think these things, over and over, trying to tether yourself to the bed and the world.

Feitan’s eyebrows furrow. 

“Why not?”

You keep yourself perched on the bed, much like Feitan normally sits. You wonder if there is any blood on your comforter, on your canopy, but you don’t dare look. Is there any on you? You don’t know, but you feel like you can taste it, regardless. It’s a phantom taste.

“You… helped me.” The words are slow and you wonder just how much you mean them.

Feitan snorts, but it’s a half-lived nose. His gaze slides away from you to your room. To the stained wall and curtains and lamp. To the floor which is currently collecting pools of seeping, dead blood.

“If it doesn’t come out… I can get new things.”

And is it your fault if your smile is shaky and nervous and half-formed?  Is it your fault if there’s something deep in you that appreciates the sentiment?

Instinctively, without looking for it, your hands reach for your discarded book, the silk bookmark still stuck in the pages.

Feitan walks back until he’s on the lounge chair.

He sits, perched, just as he did before. Watching you. Barely blinking. 

You begin to read, while the smell of blood and faint acrid death hovers in the room. 

#yandere feitan #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere x reader #afterwitch writes

[azul-marie]

luis. (sweet talk)

note: fem. reader. implied to be latina/hispanic; no physical features are mentioned. can also simply pass as a spanish speaker. spanish was kindly corrected by @angi-writes-filth ; translations are included at the end for your convenience.

“¿dime, chula, qué pasa entre usted y el oficial?”

his question has leon turning to you with a serious curiosity, no doubt hoping you’d translate something useful. unfortunately for him, and for you, it’s nothing more than what luis hopes will turn into flirtatious banter.

you shake your head at your partner, leaving him unconvinced. you hope his meager grasp of spanish keeps him from understanding too much. “¿qué con que?” you beck your head at luis, who grins upon receiving your attention. “es mi socio, nada más.”

your coy reply does not escape him. at once he slinks to your side, playful gray eyes flicking about your pretty face. “parece que le caes muy bien, ¿eh? te ha cuidado más que a la niñita.” he bumps shoulders, a teasing gesture. gets you rolling your eyes with a hint of a smile on your lips.

across the room of the safehouse, ashley looks on with girlish interest, her brows raising suggestively at the sight of you two so close. you send her a face, a code between young women, that has her fighting back a laugh.

leon, ever responsible, busies himself by placing whatever broken wooden planks he finds onto the dirty glass windows by the entrance door. you catch him glancing ever so often back at where you stand, unable to hide the wary way he eyes the man cozying up beside you. you ponder luis’s words.

“quiero pensar que somos amigos. los amigos se necesitan quererse, ¿no?” you reiterate, shifting your weight opposite of him. a thrill runs up your heart when he inches closer, intentions all too obvious.

“eso es lo que quiero saber, cariña. usted, el chaval, sólo sois amigos, ¿verdad?”

“vaya…estás muy interesando en él. ¿por qué me hablas a mi?”

“supongo que quiero saber si tengo una chance, ¿que mas?” luis chuckles, moves to prop his shoulder onto the wall behind you, one arm loosely caging you, the other resting on his hip. “y, pues, la cosa es…” he leans in, the tip of his nose brushing against the shell of your ear, “que difícil ignorar a alguien tan hermosa.”

heat rises up your face, a trained façade breaking as you laugh him off, unable to stop from smiling this time. luis hovers, incredibly pleased, watching from up close how your beauty lights up. he lingers even when you give him a lighthearted shove, stammering an excuse of having to check upstairs for supplies.

he lays back against the wall, feels the vibrations of your heels clicking up the stairs. knows you won’t find anything, anyway — if you weren’t so flustered, you’d remember he had already gone up there to check as soon as the group arrived.

a satisfied smirk refuses to leave his face, despite the severe way leon glares at him from across the room.

“i’m guessing you didn’t share any valuable input?” leon asks curtly, broad shoulders tense.

friends, my ass, luis thinks. he throws his hands up innocently, appearing clueless to leon’s envy. “no, no, it was. valuable for her to know, at least.” he winks impishly, earning himself a scowl. “c’mon, yanqui, i’m just being friendly, you know?”

though his jaw sets tight, leon says nothing in return, remembering ashley stands not too far from his place near the front door.

“everything’s clear up here.” your voice comes down the stairs before the rest of you does. you pointedly ignore both men eyeing your figure as you make your way to ashley’s side. “there’s a relatively clean bed upstairs if you’d like to rest, sweetie. i know it’s hard to relax in our situation, but i think it’s best you try.”

ashley quirks a brow. i’ll go if you tell me everything.

you offer your hand. well, duh.

“yeah, you’re probably right.” ashley agrees, voice feigning hesitation, placing her hand in yours to lead her away. she gives leon a passing look to gauge his reaction, but can’t seem to look past what she now recognizes as his “cool, calm, agent guy” persona. that, and, he’s a little too occupied watching you walk away to really react.

at least luis shows a little disappointment when you walk by without looking his way, even pouting at the lack of attention. the air sours as the two men are left alone, for plenty of reasons she’s clueless for.

she should really brush up on her spanish when she gets home.

translations below: “tell me, cutie, what’s up with you and the officer?” “what’s with what? he’s my associate, nothing more.” “it looks like he likes you quite a bit. he’s taken more care of you than of the girl.” “i like to think we’re friends. friends have to like each other, don’t they?” “that’s what i’d like to know, sweetheart. you, the guy, you’re just friends, right?” “wow…you’re seriously interested in him. why are you talking to me?” “i guess i wanna know if i have a chance, what else? and, well, the thing is…it’s difficult to ignore someone so beautiful.”

#resident evil 4 remake #re4 remake #resident evil 4 imagines #re4 imagines #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #luis serra x reader #luis sera x reader #luis sera navarro x reader #luis sera imagines #i have had. absolutely. no thoughts. other than re4make. #i cannot go 5 minutes without thinking of leon and or luis. it is Impossible!!!!!! #wanted to write for luis first since there is literally no content for him??? huh??? not on my watch #i tried my best writing in spanish for the first time!! thankfully i was able to get great help to correct my silly mistakes haha #latin american/mexican spanish is my second tongue so reader’s more closely resembles it #here i thought i knew spanish pretty well until i decided to research how castilian spanish works LMAO #also it goes without saying but ashley and reader will ALWAYS be besties in everything i write. it’s just the way it gotta be.

[ksmline]

brave

this trope has been done to death but whatever. reader has had a shitty day and chan attempts to comfort them.

pairing: stray kids bang chan x female!reader

info/warnings: sfw, fem/gendered terms used, chan is a sweetheart

word count: 560

you don’t even want to get into it. all you want is for all this to go away, for you to have at least one good thing happen to you. you curl into the sheets, cold from when your boyfriend made the bed in the morning all those hours ago. the sun is setting now, the orange glare filtering through the windows and settling warmly on your skin. you’re glad your dumpster fire of a day is coming to an end, finally letting yourself sob. 

you don’t know how long you’ve been crying, only that sometime between your sobs reducing to sniffles the sun had gone down completely, and all you’ve left to feel is the darkness enveloping you and the tear streaks wet on your cheeks.

“why’s it so dark in here? did you go to bed already?”

you stay silent, trying to calm your sniffles down. you don’t want to face chan like this, all teary and sad. he’s likely had a long day too. you close your eyes and wait with a heavy heart as he turns on the lamp and begins to undress. you bury yourself further in the covers, willing yourself to fall asleep while he washes up in the bathroom.

“baby?”

it didn’t work. chan’s laying next to you now, a tentative hand on your covered waist and his pretty brown eyes peering into yours. you subconsciously try to look for hints of annoyance in them, and instead all you find is a concern so genuine it prompts the tears in your eyes to flow again.

“oh, baby.” he’s pulling you into him before you can even register you’re crying again. he’s all hard, firm muscle, and he’s holding you tight, but for some reason he feels like he’s melting around you, all warm and soft and comforting and so, so full of love. this just makes you cry more, sobbing pitifully into his neck as chan rubs your back in the most chan way possible. 

you’re grateful he doesn’t ask. it’s all incoherent cooing and soft, gentle murmurs that you let yourself succumb to. channie’s here, honey. it’s okay. channie’s taking care of you now. it’s alright.

you finally quiet down and pull away from his neck, letting him hold you still. your voice breaks, all watery and embarrassing, but you need to speak anyway. 

“i don’t usually cry like this.”

“i know.”

“it’s just the hormones, you know? i’m due my period soon.”

“okay, baby.” 

“it’s like— it’s all these little things, right? they don’t bother me, but they just piled up today and i was sensitive to begin with. otherwise you know i don’t cry.” 

“i know. you’ve always been my brave girl, hmm?” 

that does it for you. you burst into tears again, and he’s even quicker to pull you in this time, continuing.

“and you know that won’t change.” he kisses your head, gently combing your hair with his fingers. “you can always cry when you’re with me.”

you try to say something in response, but his shirt muffles it and turns it into an incoherent, pitiful sort of noise. chan laughs his classic, good natured chan laugh, all giggly and boyish and just so chan, and that’s all it takes for the fog in your head to finally clear, even if it’s just for tonight.

#stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #skz #skz fluff #skz x reader #bang chan #bang chan fluff #stray kids bang chan #bang chan x reader #skz bang chan #skz chan x reader #skz chan #chan x reader #fluff #chan fluff #kpop

[abitohoney]

On the Edge

AO3 link

Sevika x female reader

Rating: Explicit, MDNI, NSFW

Tags: Sevika/Reader, AMAB Sevika, Trans Sevika, Trans Female Character, Established Relationship, Light Bondage, Teasing, Orgasm Delay, Edging, P-In-V Sex, Hand Jobs, Top Reader, Bottom Sevika, Aftercare, Fluff, Soft Sevika

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: “You wanna come inside me, don’t you?” you purr.

Sevika’s eyes, barely open, peer past her heaving chest and down at you.

“Gotta be careful then and wait until I sit on you again,” you taunt with a coy smile. “Wouldn’t want you to ruin it for yourself after all this teasing.”

OR

It’s your birthday, and Sevika has agreed to let you switch your typical roles. But just how much teasing and edging can Sevika really take?

AN: This is a (belated) birthday gift for a special friend, inspired by a discussion we had a while back, so many of the ideas are also credited to her. 💖

It’s high noon when you find yourself shedding your clothing, getting ready to really enjoy your most prized birthday gift of the day. Not that anyone could really tell the time from where your room lay deep in the lanes of the Undercity. Not even the tiniest beam of light makes its way into your small bedroom window. Doesn’t matter anyway. Your gift requires a little privacy.

Your ‘gift’ sits in the middle of your bedroom- a modest wooden chair just beneath the dim light that hangs from the ceiling, illuminating the person sitting in said chair. Their dark brown skin glistens with a fine sheen of sweat beneath the yellow glow.

Sevika, your long-time girlfriend, sits completely nude from head to toe. Her muscular thighs are spread wide, much like her typical choice of lounging. Only this time, she is forced into that position. Thick, dark red rope binds her ankles to each front chair leg, tied just tight enough to prevent movement, but not so tight as to hurt- too much. That same rope wraps several times around each wrist, keeping them restrained against the wooden armrests. But your favorite part, at least visually, is the rope you’d tied across her chest- a criss-cross pattern that wraps above and below each lovely breast, then around the back of the chair. Perhaps a bit of overkill. She likely can’t- and won’t - be moving, but this is about more than just the restraining. It’s about presentation. It’s about mood. Both of which you’re happy to admit are done perfectly. She looks stunning sitting there, covered in a thick rope the same color as her trusty cape, those beautiful silky black strands of hair framing her face after having removed her hair tie, her entire body sweaty and disheveled. As for the mood- a palpable level of aroused, frustrated, and downright desperate.

You’d spent the past half hour pleasing, teasing, and edging your girlfriend- an agreed-upon gift to you (and perhaps not so secretly her) for your special day. Normally you'd be the one subjected to all the teasing and edging, but with just a little begging, sweet puppy-dog eyes, and a promise to ultimately let her have her release, she agreed.

Now, you decide to turn it up a notch. With all your clothes discarded, you saunter over to Sevika, swaying your hips with each step. Her intense gray eyes drift up from your hips, over the soft curves of your naked breasts, past the sly little upward pull of your lips, and finally land on your eyes.

With a hand on each of her shoulders to steady yourself, you carefully straddle her, staying high enough so as to not make contact with her still fully hardened cock. Taking it into your hand, you line the tip up with your entrance and lock eyes with her. “If you thought my hands and mouth were torture, just wait and see what I can do to you with this,” you purr.

Sevika’s brows furrow and she opens her mouth, ready to fire something snarky no doubt. Whatever it was she had to say dies the second you start to descend.

That delightful stretch threatens to break your composure, but it’s more than a threat to her. Despite her effort to remain cool and stoic, her weakened state leaves her vulnerable to the stimulation. And your wet, warm cunt is by far her favorite form of stimulation. You watch, with satisfaction beyond just the physical drag of her cock, as her face contorts in pleasure. Her furrowed brows soften out, no longer that steep v-shape she so commonly wore. Her eyelids grow heavier and her bare chest presses against yours as she takes in a slow, deep breath while you slide further down her length.

You bite your lip in an attempt to remain in control of your own body. This is just as pleasurable for you as it is for her, but you just can’t show it. That’s not what this is about. It’s about you pleasing her- which, ultimately, is your pleasure.

And then, you bottom out. Your naked thighs fully connect with the tops of hers, and good god is it a blissful feeling. So full. So warm. And it’s apparently more than good for her.

“Fuck, baby girl,” she sighs, releasing the breath she’d been holding. “You feel so good.” Her voice is raspy, even more than usual. You’d clearly gotten her worked up. Maybe a bit too much. You’ll have to be careful if you don't want her cumming too soon.

"Mmm, so do you," you moan while the two of you adjust to the new sensations.

When her eyes start to open, you slowly rise off her, making sure you clench, applying that extra pressure you know drives her to the brink of insanity.

"Fuck," she curses again.

You moan, an exaggerated albeit honest response to the pleasure, and slowly drop down on her again.

You set a slow pace to start, gradually building up speed each time you feel her buck her hips beneath you, until you’re riding her in earnest.

Her eyes drop to your chest, mesmerized by the bouncing of your breasts with each rise and fall of your body over hers.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Ride my cock,” she groans.

You can tell she’s getting close. Her eyes start to lose focus and her smirk falters. But you’re not letting her have it. Not yet. So just as gradually as you built up that speed, you slow down, savoring the way her face contorts. The way she strains through her attempt to chase that release, only to be bound almost entirely still by the red rope you so lovingly wrapped around her- your gift.

And when your speed decreases enough for her to realize it was intentional, you’re met with narrowed eyes and lips curled into a snarl. It all loses its bite though, as the desperation bleeds through. She’s damn near gasping, her breaths hard and ragged. That lovely sheen of sweat that coated her body earlier now collects into little droplets. One slides down along her cheek, following the trail of scars and further illuminating their already present blue glow. Another rolls clear down her neck, along her collarbone, then finally disappears between her heaving breasts.

She looks absolutely stunning. Just perfect.

Your lips easily curl into a smile. Not one of mockery or taunting. Just pure, honest, adoration. Unfortunately, it seems she takes it as the former.

“How long -”

A huff.

“-do you -”

Another huff.

“-plan on -”

The rest of her question dies the moment you speed back, her words dissolving into a low gasp.

You rock your hips with each descent, making that delicious drag that much more pleasurable for both of you.

“Fuck,” she groans.

“Mmm, you feel so good,” you moan.

You quickly work her up to that sweet precipice once again, moaning along with her huffs and groans as skin slaps against skin. And then…

You stop.

The moment you swing one leg off her you can see the panic hit her. Those lovely gray eyes go wide, almost deliriously desperate. And you can see the question lingering behind them as you move to stand between her legs.

Where the hell are you going?

Her eyes follow yours as you slowly drop to kneel between her spread thighs. You run both hands soothingly up and down her muscular thighs, your gaze focused on her throbbing erection. A mixture of precum and your own wetness covers it from base to tip. While one hand remains on her thigh, you move the other to tease fingertips along the length, delighting in how her hips jerk, though not nearly far enough given the restraints.

Unable to get that firm touch she craves, she huffs out a frustrated breath.

Another faint touch, fingers barely dragging along the slick, taut skin. You moan, licking your lips and intently watching her cock twitch.

“Baby, c’mon,” she urges.

What was supposed to sound more commanding, loses nearly all of its edge the moment those words dissolve into something akin to a whine.

Your gaze darts up to her face to find her brows knitted together in dire need, eyes glued to where your fingers now wrap around her cock. Strands of her dark hair cling to the sides of her sweat-covered face. For a moment you almost feel sorry for her, and consider just giving in. But you know she can go longer. And you both know the torture will be so very worth it in the end. When she finally gets that release it will be euphoric.

So you continue to goad her, moaning wantonly as you slowly stroke her.

“You wanna come inside me, don’t you?” you purr.

Sevika’s eyes, barely open, peer past her heaving chest and down at you.

“Gotta be careful then and wait until I sit on you again,” you taunt with a coy smile. “Wouldn’t want you to ruin it for yourself after all this teasing.”

She knows you’re right. It will feel so fucking perfect if she gets to cum inside you. So she fights to stave off that blissful end she’s been chasing for far too long. Her toes curl, brows pinching together in concentration.

It’s a losing battle though, as you continue to pump your hand along her length and moan so obscenely.

You are, in all honesty, starting to question if she can truly make it. Maybe you finally found her breaking point. But she could just speak one word and you’d immediately cease the teasing. She knows the safeword. Yet, she doesn’t speak it.

“Want to cum inside you, baby,” she huffs through gritted teeth.

The wood on the arms of her chair starts to crack and splinter, her death grip threatening to break right through them.

And that’s when you realize she's reached her limit.

So you release her from your hand and swiftly move to straddle her again. Your eyes meet hers and the relief and hope that paints her face makes your heart ache.

She’ll get what she deserves. She’ll get her release. And it will be wonderful for both of you.

You line her up, hovering there for just a moment and taking in the beautiful mess beneath you. Her gaze drops back to her cock, where the head teases through your wet folds. She watches, waits, wills to see what she’s been needing for so fucking long.

And then you sink down.

Ever.

So.

Slowly.

The groan she releases is long, deep, and strained. 

“Oh Sev,” you keen.

One drag along her length.

“I want you to cum inside me.”

Two drags.

“Please cum inside me.”

Three.

“I need to feel it so bad.”

Four.

“Please!”

You drop down one final time and then-

Pure ecstasy.

All that pent-up need and frustration escapes Sevika in a full-body response. Her eyes flutter shut before rolling behind her lids, her head thrown back. The chair creaks and cracks as she pulls hard against every restraint, her hips raising, pushing herself just the slightest bit deeper as she fills you with her release. A long, guttural, and strained groan releases from deep in her chest, varying in volume before finally tapering off into yet another pathetic sound you liken to a whine.

You stay seated on her lap, but grind against her, riding her through that delirious high. Even if you didn’t get your own release, you’re certain, in that moment, you couldn’t have asked for a better gift. She looks utterly transcendent. Lost in her pleasure as it rolls through her. Her body jerks several more times before she finally collapses against the chair, her head lolling to the side.

While you give her time to come down from her high, you make quick work of removing the rope binding her wrists and chest to the chair. The legs will have to wait for later. You don’t want to make any unnecessary movements and cause any overstimulation.

With your arms wrapped loosely over her shoulders, you bury your face against her shoulder and pepper it with tender kisses. Her chest rises and falls against yours, still slick with sweat, but the feeling of her rapid heartbeat is indescribably wonderful, and you know she can feel yours too. Her breathing gradually slows to a more steady pace.

You feel her shift, but before you can lift your head to check on her, you feel her lazily throw her arms around you, holding you close while she continues to recover. You nuzzle further into her and whisper, “That was amazing, Sev. Thank you.”

All she can manage is a quiet hum, but you know she heard you by her hand weakly rubbing circles along your back.

When you feel she’s steady enough, you sit upright and search her face for any signs of unhappiness.

Her lids lay heavy over her eyes- eyes that appear glossed over in post-coital bliss. Her lips are slightly parted, but no sign of strain. She’s simply relaxed, relieved, and in heaven.

So you slowly lift off her, both of you groaning at the stimulation and loss of contact.

“I’m going to get you cleaned up, okay?” you say softly.

She can barely lift her head to nod, but you get the message and bend down to press a chaste kiss to her forehead.

You move quickly, not wanting to leave her alone like that for too long. After grabbing two wet cloths, a glass of water, and a jar of healing balm from the bathroom you make your way back into the bedroom. She’s still in the same position, looking as if she could pass out at any moment.

Janna, what you’d give to capture this moment for eternity. She looks so content and relaxed. Like all her troubles left her body along with her release.

You bring the glass to her mouth and slowly pour, your fingers gently pressed to the underside of her chin as you help her drink. Her glazed-over eyes meet yours, and though she’s unable to speak, her expression alone speaks volumes. She is pleased. She is content. And she adores you.

You sit between her legs and quickly unbind them. Watching her face for any signs of discomfort, you bring the wet cloth to her now softened cock, so very gently wiping it and her thighs clean. She takes it well, only flinching slightly when you touch the tip of her cock.

Then, with the second washcloth, you wipe the rest of her body down, clearing away as much of the sweat as possible before moving to the healing balm.

You gently work the balm into the red, raw skin of her ankles. Again with her wrists. And finally across her chest.

All the while she simply sits there in a daze. Her eyes lazily follow your movements, though you’re not sure she entirely processes them.

After carefully climbing back onto her lap, you take her face in your hands and stroke her cheeks.

She wraps her arms loosely around your waist, her flesh and metal fingers lazily tracing random patterns along the base of your spine. The corner of her mouth curls into a weak smile, one that you naturally mimic.

Hair still clings to her face, and as lovely as you think she looks like that, you know it’s likely to bother her. So you gently comb your fingers through the silky strands, pushing them back away from her face and tucking as much as you can behind her ears.

“How are you feeling?” you ask softly.

“Mmm,” she hums, “Feeling good. Really good.”

Janna, her voice is still so husky.

“Was that too much?”

She slowly shakes her head. “Not at all, baby girl. Was perfect.”

Your smile grows. “Do you need anything else?”

“Just you.”

You’re full-on beaming.

“Want to come lie in bed with me for a while?” you ask hopefully.

“Mhm.”

“Okay. Wait one sec,” you say as you climb off her and rush to the dresser. With a fresh pair of boxer briefs in hand you make your way back to kneel in front of her again.

She peers down at you while you hold her boxers out for her to step into, and you swear her cheeks flush at the gesture.

“You know it’s okay to let the people who care about you help you,” you point out with a smile.

She says nothing, just looks away, but still allows you to help her.

Once you’ve got her boxers up past her knees she slowly rises to her feet, and for a moment you think she’s going to topple right over with the way she wobbles.

Perhaps that had been a little too much for her.

She manages to steady herself and allows you to take her hand in your own to guide her to your bed. She lazily crawls onto the mattress before collapsing and rolling onto her back.

You try, but fail, to hide the little smile that brings to your face. She doesn’t appear to mind your amusement over her fucked out state, evident by how she still wears her own crooked little smile and holds her arm out for you. Happy to accept her silent invitation, you crawl onto the bed and snuggle up against her side, resting your head on her shoulder.

She wraps her arm around you, pulling you closer while she presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Fuck, baby,” she sighs, “That was really something else.”

Tilting your head back, you press a kiss to her jaw.

“Guess it was an early birthday gift for you too,” you say with a little laugh.

She strokes your side with her fingertips, humming in agreement.

“Baby, we don’t gotta wait until anyone’s birthday to do that again. You just say the word.”

You full-on giggle at that. Her uncharacteristically drunken ramblings are certainly not a part of this gift you were expecting.

She chuckles lightly at your contagious, sweet laughter, her body shaking against yours.

“Best. Birthday. Gift. Ever.” Though you speak the words with a laugh, you truly do mean it nonetheless.

“For the best girl ever,” she adds with a gentle squeeze of your hip.

Janna, she’s so fucking sweet and cute when she’s fucked out.

“My muscles hurt,” she drawls, “You got me worked up.”

You beam with pride.

“Thought a few times you were really gonna leave me hanging, but you did so good,” she continues.

You tilt your head back again to peer up at her as she speaks. She’s staring up at the ceiling, brows furrowed slightly as if in deep thought.

So damn cute.

“That little teasing you did- making me wait for you to sit on my lap again- never knew you had that in you. Was worth the wait too. Getting to feel you wrap around me like that, and finally fill you up.” She turns to gaze down at you, her smirk more akin to her typical cocky one. “As soon as I recover, I wanna fuck you again. Make you feel as good as you made me feel.”

She gets that look in her eye- the one where her pupils dilate a bit more- and heat immediately spreads throughout your body.

“And then I’m gonna take real good care of you, the way you did me. Sound good?”

“Very,” you reply with a smile.

“But first, I just wanna lie here with you for a while.”

“Gladly.”

You snuggle up to her more, nuzzling into her neck and breathing in the calming scent of her. It’s a mix of sweat, smoke, and spices- uniquely her, and so very perfect.

She presses another kiss to the top of your head. “Happy birthday, baby girl.”

#arcane #sevika #arcane sevika #sevika x reader #arcane sevika x reader #fanfic #honey writes

[charliedawn]

Hi Charlie Welcome back!! I don't know if your requests are open or not and if they're not please feel free to ignore this. I've been going through a lot at school and home and feel really burnt out, how would the slashers deal with a burnt out gifted that used to be really smart without trying and now they really struggle and pull all nighters and sometimes even fall asleep at their kitchen table. Even if you don't feel up for it thank you so much

Bo Sinclair :

"…Whatcha doin’ still up, darls’ ?"

Bo saw you on the couch with a book in your hand and immediately noticed the dark bags under your eyes. Now, he could work late in the garage, so he usually came back very late. So, of course he would be worried to see you still up to read a book—out of everything you could have done in the middle of the night. Like sleeping. He sighed before sitting down next to you and clicked his tongue.

"Should I really carry ya by the scruff all the way to yer bedroom after spendin’ all day workin’ ?"

You didn’t answer and Bo sighed again before lowering your book to make you look him in the eyes.

"Come on. Won’t ya look at me at least ?"

You sighed before reluctantly lowering your book. You stared him in the eyes—starting a staring contest—until you eventually folded. You closed the book and he smiled. He knew he had won.

"Good girl/boy. Now, to bed ya go."

Norman Bates :

Norman values hard work. He always told you to learn as much as you can and expend your curiosity far and beyond.

"Learning is the door to opportunities, Y/N. And even though I admire your determination, you mustn't exhaust yourself."

He sat down next to you and looked over your shoulder to see what you were working on. He then went to his personal library to retrieve books on the subject and started reading them so he may help you master the subject faster and save you some much needed sleep time.

Norman *sits down next to you and reads to you*

You *slowly drift off to sleep*

Him *smiles before wordlessly carrying you to bed*

Brahms Heelshire :

Brahms would force you to bed. Literally. One, because you needed it. And second, because HE needed it. He wanted to cuddle with you and reassure you. But, as he was also a gifted child as a kid, he’d understand the high expectations you set for yourself and would help you the best he can. But, he would NEVER put any expectations on you. Whatever happens, he’d be proud of you. Always.

Brahms *opens his arms wordlessly*

You *collapse into his arms*

Him : "My p…perfect."

He wanted to tell you that you were perfect. That you were human. That you didn’t need to impress him for him to be proud of you, because he already was. So very proud.

He settled for kissing your forehead and hold you closer instead.

Jack Torrance :

"…School is for fucked up brainiacs. Don’t be one, kid. They end up burnt out at age 25 and live on to be completely unsatisfied with their life. My advice ? Sacrifice whatever you can and have as much fun as possible."

Jack knows what he is talking about. He was a popular kid, but he also worked hard to always be on top of everyone else. At the end, he felt secluded and sad and lonely and depressed. He then found salvation in alcohol and work. Working until he can’t feel himself or his dark thought. Working until he forgets everything else. Working until he doesn’t care. He wouldn’t let you make the same mistakes he did. Not a chance.

Jack *grabs your textbook and throws it out the window before forcing you to take a break*

You : "But—!"

Jack : "No buts. Can wait."

You : "But—!"

Jack : "I said no buts !"

You then spent the rest of the day relaxing and watching TV with snacks.

Jason Voorhees :

Jason wouldn’t understand. He never really went to school. He tried to understand, he really did. But, the man is worse than a caveman. He only understands basic needs and only cared about your lack of sleep. He had asked you multiple times to go to sleep. He had spent time explaining how sleep was important and that being perfect wasn’t what he wanted from you. He was even reluctant to make you go to school in the first place. Jason has severe separation anxiety. But, seeing you fear and even cry because of school was just too much.

Jason *sees light underneath your door and barges in*

Jason hates it when the people he cares about aren’t feeling well. He’d burn the textbooks if necessary. You’re not getting any lack of sleep under his watch.

Jason *hugs you until you finally give up and sleep*

The next day, he didn’t wake you up and didn’t let you go when you tried to explain that you had to go. He decided that missing one day wouldn’t hurt you…

Freddy Krueger :

Freddy : "…What’s the problem ?"

You : "…Maths."

Freddy : "Ah."

He doesn’t like school. Never liked it. He finds the system stupid and first chance he got, he was outta the door. The school system never liked him, and he never liked it. He never got past high school, even though he had the capacities. He just wanted out and became a gardener for his old kindergarten. But, he’d understand the need of it for you to become someone great—unlike him.

Freddy *sighs before sitting down next to you and taking a look at your work*

He’d help you the best he can. He’d sit down next to you and go through all of your exercises one by one—explaining what he can. Freddy didn’t like the system when he was a kid, doesn’t mean he was bad at it.

Michael Myers :

Michael had spent all evening cooking and thought a little meal between the both of you would do you some good. But, he then found you passed out at the kitchen table and he hesitated before bringing you to bed. He then stayed with you—making sure you got the rest you needed. He’d gladly write a well worded letter to your teacher saying you needed a few weeks’ break the next day. But, for now…he’d let you rest.

Michael *brings you to your favourite restaurant and orders everything you want*

Be a nice healthy kid. That’s all he cares about.

Meaning: School can wait. It’s father-child bonding time.

Penny and Pennywise :

Penny : "My child is unhappy with your teaching. They do not sleep. They do not eat. They do not even want to spend time with me anymore ! How do you intend to fix them ?!"

Teacher *looks at Pennywise*

Pennywise *smiles placidly* : "I believe my brother asked you a question. Better answer quickly. Or, we just might get HUNGRY."

Teacher: "You mean angry, right ?"

Both brothers *smile ominously*

Teacher : "…"

…You had less work to do after that.

For the rest of the year.

They may not understand a thing about the human school system, but they know fear. And they’d be sure you never have to feel fear ever again.

#fandoms #imagine #fanfic #pennywise 2017 #pennywise 1990 #slashers #bo sinclair x child!reader #pennywise x child!reader #michael myers x child!reader #jason voorhees x child!reader #brahms heelshire x child!reader #freddy krueger x child!reader #norman bates x child!reader

[azulera]

Sweet Like Açai

Pairing: TAA x Black Reader

Summary: He’s still raw from a rough break-up, his club is trudging through a mid-season slump, and somehow Trent still develops a fat crush on the server at Merseyside’s newest smoothie place.

Notes: this will be my last story for a while, but it is a longer one, and who doesn't love wingman curtis and flustered shy trentski 😃 here is chapter 1, but all other chaps will be posted on ao3. pls enjoy and do tell me what you think!

—————————————————————————

The new café that Curtis suggests is only a 15-minute drive from AXA, so after their last meetings and quick showers they take off in his Range Rover and make it there in ten. The owner, he says, is a friend of the Jones family, a former footballer who took the constant chiding of his nutritionists to heart and built a second career from it, and Curtis promises Trent that it’s the best combination of chilled fruit, yogurt, granola and whatever other superfood magic that he’s ever tasted.

But it’s not that Trent needs the backstory that his teammate gives or really much convincing at all - after training his stomach feels as big and empty as a house, and, even still, he figures he deserves it. The past months have been less than kind to him, and closer to brutal: the team’s performance has continued to nosedive in what by Liverpool standards was already an aggressively average season, and he’s still deciding if he’s moved on from the mutual but still painful breakup with his long-term girlfriend two months ago. “Self-care” is a foreign thing he’s been trying to practice at the insistence of his mum and Hendo, since they claim it’s okay to let himself have nice things, to not always push harder when the going is already tough.

A quick, sugary pick-me-up can’t possibly do too much more damage.

A little bell chimes as they step in the door and the air that greets them is pleasantly cool, and sweet. Dark purples and greens blend with browns and oranges on the walls in a swirling pattern, and rustic wood tables with high stools are arranged in rows from one side of the space to the other. There’s a couple sat together at a spot near the window, twin purple cups in front of them, and a single, serious-looking man on a laptop near the back, but the line to order and the self-serve kiosks are both empty. Curtis walks up to the counter, as in any room, like he lives there, and has been there a million times.

“The açai one’s gonna blow your mind, lad, I swear to ya. Plus, the place is Black-owned and that, supportin the community.”

Trent laughs once before settling his hands in the pockets of his sweats and looking up to the menu. There are too many options, really, but at the moment his stomach is non-discriminating.

“Yeah, it better. Won’t shut up about it, you. What’s good- the bowl or smoothie?”

“Hold on – Y/N? Is that you?”

Trent’s question goes unanswered, and smothered by the sound of Curtis’ yell. His voice lifts across the space, shouting the unfamiliar name another time, and again Trent is astounded by just how loud his teammate’s voice can be. That level of volume is helpful on the pitch but embarrassing in public, and Trent feels the eyes of at least one of the patrons on them.

“Curtis? Curtis Jones? Oh my days, one second–”

The ceramic counter holding the ingredients curves around into a small kitchen entrance on the left, and from where he’s standing, Trent can’t see what, or whoever it is that Curtis sees. But the mutual excitement in the voices can’t be missed.

“No way! Get over here!”

Curtis shouts, bouncing on his toes. A moment later, a blur of movement in the shape of a girl flies in from the kitchen, and has Curtis pulled into a tight hug. His teammate reciprocates, and Trent can see his shoulder muscles working to tighten the squeeze, even with the width of counter between them.

“Long time no see, Curt. Was starting to think you were something we dreamed up, only ever see you on the telly.”

Trent can soon confirm the voice does belong to a girl, and on the first glance he gets of her face it is slightly squished against Curtis’ shoulder, but painted in a look of open, undisguised surprise and happiness. It’s the kind of strong emotion he would only ever show on the pitch, almost never in a public place like this, and it almost feels like too much to witness such vulnerability from someone he doesn’t yet know, and who’s heartfelt reunion he seems to be third-wheeling on. He would look away, but his eyes betray him and zoom in, already busy taking inventory without consulting him first.

They start at her skin, which is glowy and smooth, and the same color he likes his tea, on the off day where he does drink a cup. He thinks it’s probably poor to compare a woman to a beverage, in fact, he knows it is, but blames it on his grumbling stomach and moves on. His gaze locks next on her lips, because she and Curtis are speaking again, loudly.

“Could say the same to you, can’t I, been ages since I’ve seen ya! And I’m loving the hair.”

“Yeah, wanted to try something different. It’s been a few years since I’m growing them.”

Her hair, Trent notices when he pulls his eyes from her face, is in locs like his, but lighter brown with amber highlights strewn throughout. They swing about her shoulders as she moves, so that she regularly has to push the strands back behind her ears, away from her face. The familiarity of the movement triggers a thing in his brain that yells “Me too!”, and his eyes travel the rest of her, suddenly hungry to find more things he recognizes. The first are her eyes, which are a warm, chocolatey brown, maybe two shades lighter than his own. The close second is that he finds her unpredictably, and undeniably attractive.

That feeling inside him that went dormant two months ago starts to fidget.

“How is everythin, though? Uni? And how’s the fam?” Curtis asks.

The two of them continue catching up with excitement that hasn’t yet worn off, and Trent stands to the side, trying not to intrude and trying not to be awkward. In a way he hopes is sly, he continues scrutinizing her features while intermittently looking at his shoes, up at the artsy menu board where the offerings are, impressively, engraved rather printed, and briefly at his phone.

He should, he supposes, listen politely to their conversation, try and contribute, but in truth he only checks back in after a loud burst of laughter. She's covering her mouth with one hand, and Curtis is straightening up from being almost doubled over.

“Whoo, I had nearly forgotten about that, you know! Your brother used to be absolutely mad. But hey, I was round here last week and didn’t see you. Are you workin here now?”

“Yeah, I am.” She pulls at the cafe emblem on the corner of her mauve t-shirt. “I’ll be working the front end of things while we’re still small. Only been at it a few days now, but Dad’s made sure I’m working hard.”

“I don’t doubt it, but you tell the big man he ought to hire some more staff, ‘cause me, I’ll be telling the whole city about this place. Dragged Trentski here as soon as I could, just to show him. Me first convert.”

The sound of his nickname evaporates whatever was left of his distraction, and he steps forward a little, as if finally being invited into the conversation. He looks up and finds she’s looking back at him.

“Alright?” She asks, smiling. “I’m Y/N.”

She waits for him to introduce himself even though if she’s a friend of Curtis and a footballer’s daughter, she surely knows who he is. Or does she? Either way, he decides he likes her for it.

“I’m Trent. Nice to meet you.”

“Good to meet you, too, Trent. Let me get Curt situated and then I’ll be right with you, yeah?” She smiles again, and it isn’t one of those plastic, forced customer service smiles, but one that lasts, like she means it. The light from it floods her eyes, and makes them even shinier, independent of the artificial lighting buzzing above them. In it’s glow, his chest does that stupid thing where it feels filled up with too much air.

He watches as she moves down the line and makes his teammate’s bowl with laser focus, trying to guess if what he’s sensing is just politeness, if her smile lasts as long every time. When the flash of white does appear behind her lips again, and twice more before she calculates Curtis’ total at the register, he gets too distracted by it to count the seconds.

“What would you like?” Too quickly she’s in front of him again, hands poised around a brown paper bowl.

“Em, yeah,” He clears his throat. “A bowl, please. Not a smoothie. The açai one?”

“Good choice.” She nods, while scooping portions of the purple fruit-yogurt mix into the container. “Any special add-ins for you today? Plant protein, energy, antioxidants?”

The health-food buzzwords set off signals in his head, and he gives the answer that would make his nutritionist proud.

“Need all of it, honestly.”

She laughs again, but it feels different this time, since he’s the one who made it happen, not Curtis.

“Good boy. Bet your nutritionist loves you. Which fruits?”

Trent freezes a second, affected in equal amounts by the “good boy” and the feeling that she’d read his mind. She pushes the right side of her locs back behind her ear in the silence.

“What about banana? It goes really well with the açai.” She offers.

“Yeah, banana’s good.”

She nods again and uses metal tongs to arrange the pale yellow pieces artfully over the yogurt. He goes on, choosing available fruits from the names listed on the clear glass shield, and trying not to stumble, again. The bowl gradually fills up, and it’s a smooth exchange – it’s much easier to do this, to talk and focus, he realizes, when her face is turned down – until they reach the last two options.

“Pineapple?”

“Em, nah, no pineapple, it-” The next bit of information he adds not because it’s particularly important, but because their interaction is almost over, and he doesn’t want it to be. “-makes me tongue feel—”

“All tingly? Yeah, that’s a thing!”

Her eyes light up as she exclaims and to Trent it seems her face sudddenly changes over — there’s more color in her cheeks, and vibration in her voice. But maybe he’s imagining it. She flits the tongs through the air as she continues.

“There’s an enzyme in pineapple, bromelain, that breaks down proteins, and you’ve got a bunch of those on your tongue and cheeks. It’s what makes it so acidic, and makes it burn a little to eat, but it’s interesting, cause, bromelain is also really good for you? Helps treat inflammation, and indigestion-“

“Not now, Y/N, just give the lad his food! If he wanted a lecture he would have gone uni with you.” Curtis teases from near the register, looking up from where he’d been on his phone, waiting. She graces him with a beautiful and dramatic roll of her eyes, but when she turns back to Trent they’re sincerely apologetic.

“I get a little carried away with the nutrition thing, forgive me. It’s nice to have Curt here, though, to keep me humble. Coconut?”

Trent wants to say, “No, it’s okay, I don’t mind it” but all he manages is a kind smile. He could care less now if she adds the shredded bits of white to his order or not, but he wants her to keep looking at him, for the excited glow on her face from when she’d mentioned food science to return.

“Em, yeah. Thank you.”

Minutes later, their bowls are bagged and paid for and they’re heading towards the door, fond words of parting on all their lips.

“You all come back, okay?” Y/N probes, pulling out from another Curtis, cross-counter hug. “And I’ll tell me brother and Dad you came in, Curt, they’ll be buzzin.”

“Oh for sure, I’ll send him a text as well. It’s been so nice seeing ya.”

“Same. And hope to see you again, too, Trent. Not just on the telly.” She waves at him, more a wiggle of her fingers, and it should look silly but somehow it isn’t. He wiggles his own back, and hopes it works for him too.

In the car, they dig in, setting aside the plastic lids unceremoniously on the dash. Curtis is obnoxious about the cleanliness and quality of many things, his clothes, trainers, and phone screen, but strangely his car isn’t one of them.

The bowl Trent ordered turns out to be far better than average. The yogurt is perfectly tart and tangy, the fruit crisp and juicy and the açai deliciously purple. He still hasn’t got the girl from the counter, Y/N, out of his head.

He’s four bites in when he finally asks the question bumping around his brain the past five minutes.

“How’d you know her again?”

“Who? Y/N? Her brother’s me mate. She was a year older, but we all grew up together in Toxteth. Why?”

“No reason.”

“Do you fancy her?”

“No-what lad?” Trent screws his face his up, unsure how indignant he truly is, and though he saw the question coming. Curtis only shrugs.

“I said, do you fancy her? I saw your face while yous was talkin, and you almost never ask after girls. Just pull with your mind games or telepathy or whatever it is you do.”

Trent gets a mouthful of coconut to formulate his answer, and the taste makes his stomach feel funny. He remembers why he doesn’t usually go for it.

“No, I mean, I think she’s good-lookin, yeah, but I don’t fancy her. Don’t even know her.”

“S’not hard to change that- I could put in a word for ya. Know she’s real busy, real serious about school and that, but you’re you, innit. Trent Alexander-Arnold. Be mad not to go for it.”

Trent lets the drama of Curtis’ compliment slide off him with a shake of his head. But the “you’re you” sticks; it’s what he’s been telling himself the two month’s he’s been girlfriend-less and on a season high not-winning streak, sitting middle of the table with indications to fall. He’ll keep on repeating it, or hearing it repeated to him, until it feels true again.

“You don’t feel weird about that? Since she’s your mate and all?”

“Why would I? You’re both sound people, better than sound. And if chattin to her gets rid of that kicked-dog look you’ve been wearin the past month, brother, I’ll plan the weddin.”

“I haven’t been— there won’t be-“ Trent splutters, before resigning to the chaos that is his closest teammate and friend. “I’ll keep the offer in mind, lad. But let me finish me smoothie bowl first, yeah? Let’s start there.”

“Okay, okay. You’ll remember I told you so.”

Trent keeps eating, lets Curtis switch the subject, and it's not until he’s home, scrolling the lists of Liverpool-based Instagram profiles containing the name “Y/N”, that he questions just what would be the subject of his friend’s “I told you so” — Y/N or the smoothie. He decides to treat him to another one tomorrow to find out.

#trent alexander arnold x oc #trent alexander arnold imagine #trent alexander arnold fanfiction #trent alexander arnold x reader #footballer x you #football imagine #footballer x reader #football fanfic

[k-dokja]

x. sigh / seong taehoon

You haven’t talked since you visited. Taehoon hates that. The silence is more oppressive when it comes from you because he can’t read your mind. He wishes he can but you elude him in mysterious ways and sometimes it drives him insane that he’s not better.

There are bags under your eyes and your complexion pales a little bit more every time you visit. You won’t tell him what’s going on with you but he knows you aren’t getting enough sleep. Physical alterations, that he can notice, whatever is going on in your head, however, it’s a whole other story.

You must’ve gotten a lot of stress since you heard about what happened. Keeping you out of this business has been a good idea, but in the long run of it, there will be times like these: him returning of the verge of death and you not hearing about it until the aftermath.

He wouldn’t blame you if you were angry at him. He would’ve been angry too if the position was switched. Then again, he’d never do anything to make that happen and that point is moot.

You don’t talk. You stay by his bed’s side. You stare out of the window. Every now and then, you sigh. He can’t help but wonder if it’s oppressive to be here. Seeing him this battered probably isn’t your idea of a good time, yet you come anyway.

He’s grateful for you but this isn’t making anything better. Not when you spend much of the time in hospital room mute and morose.

He has his own limits, you know, “What?”

“What?” You jump, shaken out of your contemplation.

“Stop sighing, you’re depressing me.”

You stare at him then turn away to sigh again. You smooth out the front of your uniform dress then get up on your feet. “…I should head to my cram school, I’ll have a physics exam soon.”

“Really?” He snorts. “You came here to sigh for half an hour then proceed to leave? Why did you even come?”

You frown at him and the immediate sinking in his stomach permeates him with regret. He shouldn’t have said that. You went out of your way to spend on him what few small windows of times you have after school. Not to mention this is the second time he has been hospitalized in a year span of time.

It’s his fault. He knows it the moment he says it, “Don’t make that face, you know what I mean,” he grumbles, “you shouldn’t overextend for me, I know you have enough on your plate.”

“I’m not—”

He clicks his tongue, “Don’t lie to me,” he says, “look, I know you have enough to deal with, don’t let your no-good boyfriend holding you back.”

“Taehoon, you aren’t holding me back.”

“I know, I know, I’m a blessing to you,” he waves you away, “you should listen to your blessing and use your time after school to rest, don’t drag your feet all the way here.”

You won’t leave. There is a frown on your face but it’s not like the one from before. It’s apprehension, not hurt. He doesn’t know which is worse. “I’ll be the one to pick you up again before you know it, okay?” He says. “It will only take a week or two.”

“It’s a bullet wound…”

“A week or two,” he repeats, firmer this time, “now, shoo, if you come visit tomorrow, I’ll be mad.”

“But—“

“Shoo.”

You press your lips together, feet rooted to the ground under. Now, it’s his turn to sigh. “We don’t have to see each other everyday, we can call, chat, whatever. I’ll be fine.”

You narrow your eyes, unconvinced. He laughs now. You’re ridiculously stubborn for matters that he wishes you’d listen more. “Promise.”

“…Fine,” you sigh again but it no longer weighs his heart down with lead, “call me if you need anything, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he chases you away again, “now go before you’re late for those nerdy classes of yours.”

You turn to roll your eyes at him after picking up your bag, “They aren’t—whatever, I’ll see you later,” you lean in to kiss him, he smiles against your lips, “don’t cause troubles to your nurses.”

“Hey, I’m not—”

“Bye, Taehoon!”

His scoff breaks into an exasperated laugh. At least he gets some of that cheer back into you.

#seong taehoon #seong taehoon x reader