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#because despite how hard it was it was what I needed
hightowered · 1 day
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and you know i gotta say. the vast majority of the people losing their shit this weekend made it very clear that they do not understand the difference between "artists who want a measure of comfort in their lives" and "the billionaires actually being targeted by phrases like eat the rich." that is such a weird thing to be so proud to announce to the whole entire internet.
it's also extremely weird to behave as though any individual is entitled to an artist's work for free. or that the audience should be the final say in determining what an artist creates. there is a major difference between the betrayal of an artist who produces art and then banks on their social capital to engage in harmful, violent, bigoted behavior (like jk rowling) and the "betrayal" of an artist who decides that they should be or need to be compensated for their work. the latter isn't actually a betrayal at all. it's just a shift.
the thing is that the watcher boys didn't invent capitalism, they didn't invent the streaming model, they didn't invent youtube or patreon. they aren't getting 100% of the money from either. their merch doesn't magically appear as if made by elves while they sleep. their videos don't happen out of nowhere and without incurring bills. they have a business which employs people, and sure, you can say they employ too many people, but do they actually? a bunch of randos on the internet don't actually know that. they don't know these job titles, or how necessary it is to have everyone there. it's pure speculation. the entire company exists within a system they did not invent and are trying to stay afloat in said system while a bunch of assholes on the internet berate them for not acquiescing to their every whim at the expense of their artistic integrity, their ability to compensate their staff fairly, and their ability to keep making art.
and jumping from "i want to continue enjoying this artist's work for free" to "i think people should be fired and the remaining employees should be given greater responsibilities and more tasks to complete" is wild to me. there's nothing leftist in that and so trying to leverage leftist jargon to prove some sort of moral superiority is fucking wild, it's disingenuous, and it's sketchy as hell. you're allowed to be disappointed. you're not magically exempt from being told you're being an asshole if you decide your disappointment entitles you to take part in asshole behavior.
"but we don't want something heavily produced and we don't want these shows" then don't watch! that's it! don't watch! you are not being held hostage and forced to engage with this content. you have the choice not to. throwing a tantrum and launching racist vitriol at steven lim and demanding he step down as CEO shows a level of entitlement and childishness that, frankly, i wish they could have ignored, but they're both kinder & more patient than i am.
anyway congratulations to watcher on their new streaming service and their gorgeous new website, congratulations to the boys on a new step in their careers and on achieving something they've made clear they've wanted for ages, thank you to the boys for all their hard work and for sharing their creativity with us. thank you too for taking such a big and genuinely brave step to no longer be beholden to major corporations and advertisers so you can make the art you want to make. thank you to steven lim for taking so many steps back to keep the company running and for doing your best in a shit economy and while being targeted by this kind of nastiness online. and thank you to the entire team at @wearewatcher for continuing to do amazing work despite being treated like shit by the fan community at large on the internet while you're trying to make a living and create art. you all deserve better than you've been shown of late and i hate that such an exciting moment got overshadowed by so many temper tantrums.
because the whole fucking point, the dream, is getting to make the art that matters to them, without being held back. i'm sorry y'all don't want the heavily produced and high quality shit but your preferences as a member of an audience are not the law by which artists should abide. they are artists and they are free to, and deserve to, make the art they want to make.
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luveline · 1 day
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i have a request for roommate!spencer where he's just miserable that no one remembered his birthday at work but when he gets home his roommate just welcomes him with the most thoughtful gift and a warm hug PLEASE
thank you for requesting! <3 fem!reader
The lights are off. The air conditioning blows a shade too cold. Spencer shrugs off his jacket and acknowledges that, despite his awful, aching day, it’s nice to be home. 
The living room is clean where it hadn’t been this morning when he left. If he had to clean it by himself, he’d die. It must’ve taken a good hour or longer, even the floor shines sparkling clean. 
“Hey?” he asks into the open air, wondering where you are. 
“Spencer!” you yelp from the kitchen, “Hey, what took you so long? It’s almost seven!” 
He sighs to himself with a great dash of self-pity. “I know. Had to stay and finish something. You cleaned?” 
“I had to! Quick, come in here, I need your help with something.” 
He doesn’t want to help, he wants to lay down in bed. Spencer wonders how a normal person, a normal boy, would feel after a day like today. He wonders if Morgan would go home and lay in bed and cry. He wonders if it could ever be possible for everyone to forget Morgan’s birthday. 
Spencer hangs his jacket on the rack and puts his bag by the shoes. He’s tempted to go to bed and pretend he hasn’t heard you, but he supposes he shouldn’t. He’d sort of been hoping you’d text him happy birthday, and but that never happened. He doesn’t think anybody in the world besides his mom knows what day it is today, and Spencer had to remind her, so. 
“Spence,” you say, your smile of a calibre he’s never witnessed, standing in front of the kitchen island with your hands behind your back, “I hope you know I’ve been waiting two whole hours for you to get back. Actually, I’ve been waiting all day, but you can’t be blamed for working. Okay. Are you ready?” 
“Am I ready? What did you want help with?” 
You step to the side, grinning, the sleeves of your nice blouse like big, soft petals around your wrists and against your thighs. “Tada!” you say, guiding his attention to the silver platter on the countertop, a chocolate cake at centre stage and stuck with candles, flames aglow. “I rushed to light them when I heard the door,” you tell him, and he can hear your breathlessness now, your excitement for him evident. “A lot of candles, you’re getting old! Too old for chocolate sprinkle. I should’ve got you something sophisticated.” 
“You got me a cake?” 
“It’s your birthday,” you say happily. “Happy birthday, Spencer. I got you some presents, too, but the cake is the best, it’s from the Leaven. How fancy is that?” 
“Will you sing?” he asks. 
He doesn’t know why he asks. He’s mostly kidding, but you smile shyly and beckon him toward you. “I’ll sing. Come stand over here.” 
You sing him happy birthday, and he blows out his candles, only ten candles altogether but enough to feel like a kid as the heat kisses his chin. 
“Okay, and I got you this,” you say, finally pulling both hands from behind your back, seemingly eager to move the focus from your performance.
It’s a bundle about as thick as an average novel. He knows it’ll be books before he opens it, because you know him, and it’s in your nature to give him your everything. 
He doesn’t look at them. He takes the package blindly and shoves it onto the counter, wrapping you in a hug so hard it makes your back click. “I’m sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t let go. You don’t make him. “Sorry, I just– I–” You’re the only one who remembered. “Thank you for the cake.” 
You hug him not quite as hard, but tight. “Hey, it’s okay. I love you, you’re my best friend ever, you can pop me like a roll of dough any day of the week.” You might be exaggerating. Spencer doesn’t know. “But especially today, you know. You can have anything you want.” 
Spencer should let go. Anything you want, you’d said. He hugs you until he’s sure you’re sick of him, your thumb pressing little circles into his shoulder, his arms tucked up under your armpits and around your back. “Thanks,” you murmur.
“What?” he asks. “For what?” 
“For such a good hug. And being a great roommate. And for not complaining about the candles.” 
“The candles are perfect.” 
You lean back in his arms. “Thank you. Now what do you want first, cake or dinner?” 
Spencer really wants another hug. “Um. Cake?” 
“Good choice, handsome.”
His cheeks are pink by the time he gets a slice, but it’s the best birthday cake he’s ever had.
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sunniques · 2 days
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— 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 ?
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➺ PAIRING: lee heeseung x female reader
➺ GENRE: stepbrother au, smut
➺ SUMMARY: the story of how your stepbrother’s girlfriend realizes her boyfriend has never really been hers.
➺ CW/TW: stepcest, infidelity, possessiveness, heeseung can lift reader, cucking kink, voyeurism, masturbation (f), oral sex (f), fingering, face sitting, unprotected sex, creampies
➺ WC: 4.6k
NOTE: don’t like, don’t read.
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A lot of people find your relationship with your stepbrother cute. How could they not? He’s always so doting and protective like a real brother would be. In spite of being only slightly older, Heeseung takes on a very important role in your life. He constantly goes out of his way to take care of you, making sure you have anything you could possibly need.
Heeseung’s girlfriend never thought too much about the relationship between you two. It was natural that he took the naive college freshman under his wing and constantly had you by his side. Mina found it endearing, actually. The way he worried about you like a mother hen who wasn’t ready for her young chick to go into the world alone is adorable and a good sign. After dating so many inconsiderate losers, she thinks she’s finally chosen the right guy.
But somewhere along the way, Mina starts to grow tired of it. Time has gone by, and you’re no longer a naive freshman who can’t get around without her boyfriend’s help. Of course family is important, but it’s not like you’re entirely helpless. And yet, that’s exactly the way Heeseung acts. He’s always ready to drop everything when you need him. On several humiliating occasions, he’s even left her half naked on his bed just to go to you because you bought something you couldn’t figure out how to put together, or because you wanted to hang out with him.
It’s hard for Mina to admit that she’s a little jealous. Especially because it all seems so ridiculous. There’s no way her boyfriend actually wants you like that. But as time goes on, she thinks that maybe she’s not all that crazy. Especially with the affectionate way her boyfriend looks at you. Despite all this, Mina doesn’t say anything. At least, not until Heeseung starts to bring you along to what were meant to be dates.
“Babe, why do you keep bringing your stepsister? i thought we were going on a date?” It’s hard for her to not sound bitter and annoyed.
“Her roommate is going to visit her parents, and I don’t want Y/N to be alone.” His tone is kind and gentle like always, but it’s also firm and leaves no room for arguments.
What’s worse is that Mina can’t bring herself to hate or blame you. In a way, she understands why her boyfriend is always so concerned about you. You’re so nice and trusting that it would be way too easy for someone to take advantage of that. There’s also the fact that you’ve been more than willing to let them have some alone time, but Heeseung never lets you leave.
It’s all so strange and frustrating that Mina feels like she has to take matters into her own hands. So she does.
The key to Heeseung letting you go is getting you a boyfriend—or at least getting you to start dating. It’s easy enough to find a guy who’s interested in you. That’s never been a problem for you, and all it takes is her showing your picture to the cute guy in her communications class for her plan to fall into place. As luck would have it, you’re also into meeting the guy and going out with him.
Little did Mina know, setting you up with him would be a mistake that would cost her everything.
On the night you’re meant to meet up with her classmate, Mina excitedly goes to her boyfriend’s apartment. It’s been a long time since she got to be alone with Heeseung, and she was going to make the most of it.
She’s dressed in tiny tank top and a cute little skirt that Heeseung loves—it barely hides the lingerie she’s wearing underneath. Mina quietly lets herself into her boyfriend’s apartment using her spare key. Quietly, she tiptoes to his room only to find the door wide open. What she doesn’t expect is to find you sitting on his the edge of bed while Heeseung kneels in front of you.
Mina feels like a bucket of cold water has been dumped on her as his pretty hands rub your soft thighs. You look incredible, clad in a cute little dress with your makeup and hair done to perfection. It’s a mistake for Mina to keep watching, but she can’t find her voice at the moment.
“Seungie, what’s wrong?”
God, Mina hates that you call him that. Mostly because she can tell how much Heeseung likes it.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were going out to meet some guy?” Heeseung sounds almost venomous, but it’s like you don’t hear it. “Who is he? How’d you meet him?”
You tilt your head, pretty lips pulled down in a confused frown. “Didn’t Mina tell you? She set me up with a guy from her class. He’s really cute!”
A chill goes down Mina’s spine. She can see Heeseung’s back tense when you tell him how your date came to be. The air feels almost murderous as he gently squeezes your thighs.
It kills Heeseung that he was almost too late in stopping you from meeting some strange guy in the pretty little dress you have on. He softly rubs your thighs, eyes simmering with anger and desire he doesn’t care to hide. Not anymore.
“Oh, angel.” Your stepbrother murmurs, hands slowly trailing up to your thighs. “You know you’re my favorite girl, right?”
An unsuspecting smile graces your lips. “Yeah. And you’re my favorite guy.”
Heeseung hums in satisfaction as his fingers ghost the edges of your dress. He watches your eyebrows furrow, but you don’t say anything. As always, you have blind trust in your stepbrother. That’s all the indication he needs to get up and push you down on his bed. Heeseung hovers over you, loving how you’re staring up at him with sparkling, wide eyes. He swoops down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.
Your heart is racing in your chest as Heeseung forces his tongue into your mouth. Despite the initial shock, you quickly melt into the kiss. He swallows your moans, pulling you closer as he deepens the messy kiss. You mewl into his mouth, carding your fingers through his hair with desire you had never realized you had for him.
Meanwhile, Mina can only watch as her boyfriend kisses you with a passion that he clearly never felt for her. It feels like her heart is ripping in half as Heeseung begins to undress you. Tears well up in her eyes when he groans at the sight of the lingerie adorning your body. Mina can see how hard he is from where she’s standing, and the desire in his eyes is very different from the way he looks at her.
“Can’t believe you got all pretty for some other boy.” Heeseung spits as he starts to undress. “Were planning on letting him fuck you?”
You shake your head and go to speak, but you can’t when Heeseung roughly pulls off your lingerie then his own underwear. His cock is thick and big, possibly the biggest you’ve ever seen. It’s twitching and leaking as he looks at you with his dark eyes.
“W-We shouldn’t be doing this.” You whine as Heeseung shoves your thighs to your stomach and licks a broad stripe up your wet pussy.
Your stepbrother groans at your sweet taste, thrusting his tongue into your dripping hole. He laps up the juices leaking out of your slit, circling his tongue on your clit for good measure. The noise you let out is downright pornographic and pure music to Heeseung’s ears.
“Seungie!” You keen as you spread your legs and tangle your hands in his messy hair. “I– Fuck!”
Heeseung pulls back with a wet slurp to spread your cunt open with his big hands. “God. You have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, angel. Just had to taste it.”
Each one of his words is like a dagger to Mina’s heart and confidence. Wet tears trickle down her face, but she doesn’t say anything as you pull on her boyfriend’s hair. Heeseung only moans and dives back into your slick cunt. He greedily laps up everything that drips out of you, sucking and kissing your clit.
“We shouldn’t be doing this, Hee.” You repeat through a needy mewl, making no attempt to stop him. In fact, you buck your pussy into his mouth as he sucks on your sensitive bud.
“Shh, angel.” Heeseung shushes as he flicks his tongue across your swollen bud. “Just relax and let me eat you out. Been wanting to do this for so long.”
Mina swallows thickly, the hurt slowly being replaced by something else. Her eyes grow bigger when she realizes which feeling is taking over. She shifts slightly, feeling a familiar wetness begin to pool in her panties. Mina feels sick that the sight of her boyfriend cheating on her can turn her on, and she thinks that she should leave right now and never return.
But she stays.
Mina licks her lips and continues to watch. Even she can’t help but think how hot you look, whimpering and writhing as Heeseung pushes your thighs apart so he can bury his face deeper in your pussy. He flicks his tongue, slowly descending until he’s lapping at your hole, slowly fucking the wet muscle in and out. Your eyes roll back as your stepbrother eats your pussy like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.
The sounds coming from your pussy and the way Heeseung messily eats you out has Mina’s own cunt clenching with need. She can feel her underwear start to stick to her cunt as she watches her boyfriend lap up your arousal like a starved man. Mina bites her lip, feeling sick and twisted for being turned on by your pretty moans.
Heeseung suddenly pulls away, but not before he slaps your thigh playfully. He goes to lay on his back all while wearing a filthy smirk. “Sit on my face.”
You bite your lip as a hot flash of arousal pulses through your body. Both your and Mina’s cunts throb at the suggestion. Heeseung sees your hesitation, but doesn’t back down.
“C’mon, baby. Be a good little stepsister and ride my fucking face.” He growls out with dark eyes.
With your pussy dripping, you crawl over to him and kneel over his face. Mina watches with heated eyes as you slowly lower your cunt on her boyfriend’s face. The heat in her stomach grows when she hears Heeseung groan in satisfaction.
“That’s it. I want your pretty pussy suffocating me.”
With that, your stepbrother grabs your hips and pulls your cunt down onto his face with a groan. Mewling quietly, you rub your cunt all over his mouth. Every time he moans or grunts, it sends little vibrations through your pussy. The delicious feeling has you grinding down on his tongue as you chase that feeling. Heeseung eagerly fucks his wet muscle into your hot cunt, already addicted to your sweet taste.
Mina swallows thickly when he sees Heeseung thrusting into the air as he eats you out. His cock is leaking and throbbing with need. Fuck. How she’d like to go and lick all that up, to have him fuck her mouth as he fucks you with his tongue. Mina rubs her thighs to soothe the growing ache in her pussy as she watches you ride Heeseung’s face.
Your eyes roll back when your stepbrother slaps your ass. A loud squeal spills from your lips as Heeseung keeps fucking his tongue up into your cunt. He grabs your ass and kneads it roughly. With one last groan and flick of his tongue, he sits up and takes you with him. The effortless display of strength turns both women on, one containing her moan while the other cries out as she’s pressed back into the mattress.
“Such a sweet little cunt.” Heeseung moans as he buries his face back into your dripping cunt. “Shit, Y/N. You’re fucking soaked down here.”
“Heeseung!” You cry out as he pries your thighs further apart. Your stepbrother shakes his head to grind his tongue against your sensitive cunt.
“Fuck, you have the hottest little pussy.” Heeseung lifts his head with a groan, lips shiny with your arousal. “Missed eating some good pussy. It’s been so long.”
Mina feels pathetic that her cunt throbs at his degrading words. She bites her lip, hands trailing up her thigh and to her soaked underwear. It’s so filthy and humiliating, but the ache in her pussy is getting to be too much. She slowly rubs circles on her covered cunt as she keeps watching her boyfriend cheat on her.
“Fuck, Seungie.” You mewl desperately. “S-Shouldn’t like having your face buried in my cunt.”
Heeseung smirks into your wetness. He gently circles his tongue on your clit, kissing it tenderly before he gently starts to nip at it with his teeth. Mina shoves her panties aside when you moan out in pleasure. Now she’s furiously rubbing at her bare pussy, wanting to see you cum on her boyfriend’s face.
“But you do, baby. You like me fucking you with my tongue, and I fucking love eating this sweet little pussy.”
Your hips buck up at the words, grinding your cunt against his mouth as you moan for him. Juices drip out of you lewdly, leaking down to your ass and onto Heeseung’s sheets. Your head is swimming with pleasure, and you have to remember that this is all so very wrong.
“You like that?” Heeseung teases you, loving how you’ve turned into putty in his hands. “Answer me, Y/N. Do you like your stepbrother telling you how much he loves tasting your juicy cunt?”
Your back arches when Heeseung sucks your puffy bud into his mouth. “God—yes! Feels so fucking good, Hee! Love having your mouth on my pussy.”
Heeseung growls, the vibrations making your cunt throb as he sucks and licks your swollen clit. Eager to have you cum on his tongue, he slips two fingers into your fluttering hole. Mina follows in suit, unable to take her eyes off the erotic sight of you getting ate out and fingered. Fuck. This was better than any porn she had ever watched. Her hand is dripping with her own arousal, and she can’t even feel disgusted anymore that she’s so turned on by the entire situation.
“Mmmh, shit, Hee.” You whine as the tips of his fingers brush against the gummy spot inside you. “You’re gonna make me cum.”
“Do it, baby. Cream all over my tongue.” He purrs in delight. “Be a good girl and cum for me.”
Heeseung flattens his tongue on your clit while his fingers grind into the spongy spot in your cunt. Your back arches off the bed, orgasm whiting out your thoughts as you cum around his long fingers.
Mina has to cover her mouth as Heeseung moans along with you. By now she’s shoved her fingers into her sopping pussy, the squelching sound is drowned out from the sounds coming from your own pussy. The filthy sight is driving her wild, and she’s so delirious with arousal that she wishes Heeseung would just fuck you already.
“You’re amazing, angel.” Your stepbrother praises with his fingers still buried knuckle deep in your pussy as he softly strokes your velvety walls. “So soft and wet. It makes me want to shove my dick into your tight little hole.”
Heeseung slowly pulls his fingers out of you, and you can only watched with a lidded gaze as he moves his body between your thighs. His cock is twitching and leaking as he grabs the base. He smacks his cock down on your slippery pussy, dragging his drooling tip up and down your slit slowly. Mina has to press her hand into her mouth harder to stifle her filthy moans. The sight of her boyfriend pressing his drooling cockhead into your soaking pussy is so hot she might just cum all over her fingers.
“S-Seungie—fuck. We shouldn’t.” You whimper as he leans forward and braces his arms by your head.
You and Mina both know you don’t really mean your words. It’s clear that you want your stepbrother to split you open on his big cock. That becomes obvious when you don’t try to stop him as he shoves his cock into your pussy until he bottoms out completely, balls pressing against your ass. Shuddering with pleasure, you scratch your nails up his arms as you sink into the bed.
“Pretty pussy was meant to take my cock.” Heeseung growls, already drunk on the feeling of your cunt wrapped around his dick. “Fuck. I know it’s wrong, baby, but I just couldn’t help myself. Your hot little cunt was just begging for my dick. Doesn’t it feel all nice and full having your pussy stuffed with your stepbrother’s big cock?"
Mina starts fucking herself harder when you nod desperately. Your hands go to tangle in his hair as you grind your hips up to meet his thrusts. “Yes! Fuck! Love my stepbrother’s cock stretching me open! Feels so fucking good, Hee!”
Mina knows better than anyone how good you must feel. Although, she imagines you feel must better than she ever did because from the way Heeseung’s fucking you, she can tell he’s doing it with much more enthusiasm and passion. Even his moans are more guttural and full of more pleasure than she’d ever heard. They’re deep as he pulls out until just his tip is spearing you open. Then, he pushes forward, thrusting his cock deep into your fluttering walls.
“That’s it. Tell me how good it feels.” Heeseung leans down, lips brushing against yours. “Don’t be shy, angel. Let me know how much you like this cock fucking you.”
You gasp wantonly and pull him down further to press your lips together. He groans and licks into your mouth easily, tongue slipping past your lips as his cock thrusts deep into your hot, wet cunt. Your hips buck up to meet his, loving how his dick rams into your sweet spot over and over until your sight is painted with pretty little stars.
“Fucking love it, Hee.” You moan between sloppy kisses. “God—I love your cock!”
The coil in Mina’s stomach is close to snapping. By now, her juices are dripping down to her wrist. Luckily, the lewd squelching and sound of skin slapping together drown out any noise she’s making. Heeseung is fucking you so hard and good that she can smell the musky scent of sex from where she’s standing. The erotic aroma turns her on even more, pussy clamping down on her fingers in desperate need of release.
“Tight little pussy feels so good.” Heeseung moans out between the quick pecks he’s giving you. “God, I love you, Y/N. So fucking much.”
Your heart races as Mina’s breaks all over again. It hurts, but somehow that just turns her on even more. She keeps fingering herself as tears pool in her eyes.
With a low moan, your pussy clamps down on Heeseung’s dick tightly as you go to eagerly kiss him. A soft I love you, too goes unnoticed by Mina, but not by your stepbrother. He groans into your mouth, cock throbbing inside you.
“Mmmh.” Heeseung hums against your lips before he trails wet kisses down your neck. “I love my gorgeous girl. That’s why this feels so good. Even your tight little pussy knows how much I love you.”
His gorgeous girl? Mina thinks deliriously, orgasm dangerously close. It’s something he never referred to her as.
You cry out loudly when Heeseung bites your neck and sucks the skin into his mouth. His hips rock against yours, balls smacking against your ass as his pelvis grinds down on your swollen clit.
“Seungie!” You whine in ecstasy. “I’m getting close.”
Your stepbrother doesn’t let up. In fact, his thrusts seem to get faster and rougher. His cock pistons in and out of your cunt, creating sloppy wet sounds as you get even wetter. His eyes are dark as he pulls back to look at you, all pretty squirming and trembling on his cock.
“Cum for me, baby. Cover my cock with your sweet cream so I can fill you up.” Heeseung pants. “Cum on my cock, angel.”
His teeth sink into your neck again, and it pushes you over the edge. Your hot cunt throbs as you squeeze down on his cock. Somehow your pussy only gets tighter and tighter as you get fucked through your orgasm. You tighten your legs around his waist until he can barely pull out, rutting his cock in short shallow thrusts as your climax starts to taper off.
“So fucking tight.” Heeseung hisses by your ear. “Shit, baby. Get ready. I’m about to creampie your cute little pussy. Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
With a strangled grunt, he buries his cock to the hilt and shoots his load deep inside your fluttering walls while your pussy softly milks him for every drop of his hot cum. Mina reaches her own climax when she sees her boyfriend cumming inside you. She has to stifle her moans as she trembles and shakes outside the room that’s filled with the smell and sounds of hot sex.
“You’re taking it so well, angel.” Heeseung kisses your jaw tenderly as his fat tip spurts rope after rope of his thick cum into your clenching heat. “Milking my cock like I knew you would.”
He grinds his hips down, cock pulsing as he finishes stuffing you full of his hot, sticky load. Your stepbrother fucks his cum inside a bit more before reluctantly pulling out. Heeseung’s cock throbs as he watches his seed drip from your messy pussy.
He licks his lips, heated gaze never leaving your body. “Let’s do it again.”
You don’t try to protest as your manhandles into a different position. Mina is still coming down from her high when she realizes her boyfriend is still hard and about to fuck you again. She knows she shouldn’t feel excited or aroused by the fact, but she does. Especially when your face is shoved into one of Heeseung’s pillows just before his big cock rails back into your needy pussy.
Heeseung starts fucking you so hard his headboard slams into the wall repeatedly. The harsh sound pairs well with the plop plop plop sound coming from your cunt.
“God, Y/N. You’re so fucking good for me.” Heeseung groans when you clench down on him.
You moan loudly, bouncing yourself back on his cock. “Fu-Fuck, Seungie. This is wrong. We s-shouldn’t be doing this.”
“I know.” Your stepbrother smacks your ass, not sounding the least bit remorseful. “It’s so dirty baby, but I couldn’t help myself. Had to get my dick wet using your pretty little pussy.”
“Mmmh!” You whine out mindlessly, face turned to the side with your ass raised in the air for Heeseung to fuck deeper into your wet hole. “Feels so fucking good!”
“Yeah, it does.” Heeseung’s laugh sounds almost mean as he speeds up his thrusts to fuck his cock harder into your sopping cunt. “Your cute little pussy is the best I’ve ever had.”
His words shouldn’t please you as much as they do, but those lewd words turn you on so much that you can’t stop your cunt from tightening around him as he keeps spearing into you like an animal in heat. They also shouldn’t turn on Heeseung’s girlfriend but that’s exactly what they do. She isn’t angry, only extremely aroused as your ass bounces back on your stepbrother’s pelvis.
“Fuck!” Heeseung groans, fucking his cock right into your g-spot. “You’re so fucking hot, angel.”
You are. So hot that Mina finds herself wishing she could eat Heeseung’s cum out of your pretty cunt. She just knows you taste good, and mixed with her boyfriend she’s sure you must taste even better.
“Seungie, please!” You cry out, dizzy with arousal.
“Shit.” He growls, slipping a hand underneath your hips to rub fast circles on your clit. “Gonna make you cream on my cock again.”
“Heeseung!” You squeal as he picks up his pace, ramming into your squelching pussy as he rubs soft circles into your swollen clit.
Your stepbrother shoves his cock deep into your cunt and grinds, making you squirm and whine as his dick rubs against the spongy spot in your pussy. Your hands twist in the sheets. He flicks and pinches your puffy clit. God, do you look good, and so does Heeseung. Mina is groping one of her tits while the other hand goes to play with her pussy again. Briefly, she thinks she wouldn’t mind having a video of you two fucking so she can watch it over and over again.
“Hee, I’m gonna cum.” You moan against the pillow.
“Do it, baby.” He encourages you, free hand coming down to slap your ass hard. “Cum all over my cock. Want to feel your hot cunt squeeze me.”
It’s not long before your orgasm hits. You’re screaming into your pillow as your cream coats Heeseung’s big cock. Your pussy clamps rhythmically around his dick. Mina can’t see you, but with the way your toes are curling she can tell your eyes are rolling to the back of your head in pure ecstasy.
“Oh, baby. You feel so fucking good.” Heeseung praises you. His hands move to slap your ass again, making you squeal and tighten again. “Fucking work your little pussy on my cock. Fuck. Need to fill you up again.”
“Want you to stuff me full.” You whine back at him, pussy fluttering at the thought of Heeseung’s cum filling your cunt again.
“Yeah?” Your stepbrother laughs, sounding way too delighted. “Want me to creampie your hot little cunt again?”
“Please!” You whine as Heeseung’s fingers slide over your hip to start working soft circles into your clit again. You writhe back on him, feeling yourself get even wetter at the filthy thought of him shooting his hot load inside you.
“Cum inside me, Hee.” You pant, mewling when his fingers rub your clit even faster. “Want it so bad. Want to feel it.”
“Oh, fuck.” Heeseung groans, hips snapping hard against your ass when he feels how tight you’ve gotten. “You ready, baby? Fucking take it. Take your stepbrother’s cum in your needy little cunt.”
You moan loudly when you feel his hot cum filling your pussy, stuffing you so full it drips out around his cock. Heeseung ruts his spent cock into your sloppy pussy as he pinches your clit, watching as your back arches as a fourth orgasm sweeps through you. You lazily fuck your cunt back into him, loving the feeling of his cum dripping out of you and coating your thighs.
Heeseung pulls out of your warm cunt with a low groan. He’s quick to pull you against his chest and lays you down with him. His face is buried in your hair, eyes closed in bliss as you both try to catch your breaths. You feel his smile in your hair as he cuddles you and murmurs sweet praises against your temple.
Through your drooping eyes, you catch sight of Mina. Her eyes widen when you two make eye contact. You can’t hide your smirk when you see that she was masturbating to the sight of Heeseung fucking you raw. Instead of saying anything, you give her a seductive wink. Mina clenches around her fingers because the wink is full of understanding and promises.
It’s clear that Heeseung was never hers, but maybe you wouldn’t mind sharing.
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1d1195 · 1 day
Text
Ding - Round 3
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Read Ding here | ~6.5k words
Warnings: scummy man appearance, angst involving the frustration/grief/sadness of the last part regarding her shitty experience with said scummy man, fluff
Summary: Harry wants to know what happened to Cupcake. She really isn't sure she wants to tell him. Until she has to.
From me: NEW DIVIDER BY @babegoals THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR CREATIVITY AND SUPPORT AND JUST EXISTING 💕
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Harry was mad.
Fuming. He had thought about nothing else but seeing her for the last two months and now that he had seen her, he was pissed to see her at his self-defense class. He asked her the same question about ten times throughout the instruction. He was furious and irritated that everyone else needed his help (even though it was literally what he was being paid for) when all he wanted was to talk to her.
He was all for helping women feel empowered. But he was mad she needed it. He knew she was feisty. The fact that she was there said a lot in its own right. The way she bantered with him until three in the morning texting him the other night made him smile more than he could describe. It was flirty and sweet. But always had him guessing if she would suddenly stop messaging for one reason or another.
Someone like her needed someone—maybe even someone like Harry—to make sure nothing bad ever happened to her. And he knew. He knew why women went to self-defense classes. He had been teaching these classes since before he owned his own gym.
He knew.
"Why are y’here, Cupcake?" He asked gruffly. The other women nearby were all but forgotten. One was mid-sentence, asking to clarify something Louis had said. Harry was practically rude to just ignore her question in favor of his own.
“Umm... for self-defense,” she muttered trying to focus on Louis’ answer.
Harry didn’t want her banter right now. (As cute as it was to him, despite his irritation.) “Right. But usually everyone has a story that... convinces themselves t’sign up. So what’s your story?” He repeated.
He watched the way her cheeks warmed at his assessment, and she folded her arms protectively in front of her. Guarding herself. “That’s kind of personal, Harry.”
Once Harry’s anger took hold, it was hard to backtrack. “Listen,” he shook his head. The annoyance that clouded his eyes and covered his face was so obvious, she felt the slightest bit bad about interrupting his lesson with her own issues. “M’not good at this kind of thing, Cupcake. Being subtle. I punch people for a minimal living and work the rest of m’time here, teaching people how t’punch.”
Part of her wanted to break down and tell him. Because as much as she was willing to do this on her own, she was so scared. That nervousness made her feel even weaker, and she wanted to tell Harry, she realized. She wanted someone to know and to help her because this wasn’t something she wanted to deal with on her own—it was too much.
But she couldn’t do it right in the middle of a self-defense lesson, surrounded by strangers. “I’m here to learn how to punch,” her voice was even and final.
His nostrils flared and he stalked back to the front of the room, a trail of anger coming off him as he did. He wasn’t going to get anywhere with her.
The remainder of the lesson went by without incident on Harry’s part. He watched her the entire time. The way she flinched when they practiced moves made him nauseous. But he couldn’t help but notice how good her stances were. Almost natural. “Hey, love,” Louis smiled at her kindly as he geared up to practice more tactile moves. “You liked his match so much you wanted to try on your own?” He asked.
She smiled, but it didn’t fully reach her eyes. “Something like that.”
“It’s good skills to have,” he assured her gently, because even though Harry’s infatuation annoyed him at the time, he knew Harry liked her. A lot. Knew just as well as Harry did why women signed up for a self-defense class. “You have a very natural stance,” he noted. “We should get you in the ring,” he winked at her.
She laughed lightly. “I don’t even know how to make a fist,” she snorted.
Louis chuckled giving her a gentle shoulder squeeze and moved onto the next person.
Harry moved in front of her next and he looked at her footing. Aligned near perfectly and practiced as if she had been doing it her whole life. He was still steaming with anger. It rolled off him and demanded to be felt—and she felt every bit of it. “S’like you’ve done this before,” he muttered.
“I haven’t,” she answered. “I’m just good at following directions. Like a recipe, you know?”
He was staring at her feet and trailed up to her hand where he carefully took hold of her delicate fingers. Instantly, it felt like her whole arm was made of jelly. Her heart took off about the speed of an airplane and she was lucky she could hear anything over the sound of it. Harry touching her skin made her feel faint. Carefully, he bent her fingers and tucked her thumb below the flat of her knuckles. It felt so intimate it seemed wrong to be doing this in a class put on for the public. Holding her wrist, he brought her fist to his cheek and tapped it against his skin a few times. “Like that,” he murmured.
She wanted to be cute and smile. Say something like, I’ll keep that in mind for strangers in dark parking lots when I ding their car. But instead, she was overcome with gratitude for the knowledge and a bit of awe. She was speechless without meaning to be. He released her wrist, and she wanted nothing more than to grab his hand again and never let go. “Thank you,” she whispered. He nodded sullenly.
Harry felt defeated—something he didn’t enjoy at all. Rarely did he feel it, but he wished he felt defeated after a match more so than he did right then. All he could do was walk away from her and finish the lesson without chatting with her again.
*
In hindsight, confronting her in the middle of a self-defense lesson wasn’t his wisest choice. The following morning, he had a renewed spirit and was once more determined to chat with her and figure out what made her join a self-defense class.
What he hadn’t anticipated was how stubborn she could be. He should have known but he was willing to dig his heels in as long as she was. Harry went to the bakery morning, noon, and night—literally—trying to figure out her schedule. “Again?” The girl behind the counter asked suspiciously when they returned at four in the afternoon on the third day of waiting. She had been there all day and hadn’t said anything up until their third arrival.
Niall shook his head and sighed. “Sorry, darling. He’s being super creepy, yeah?” Niall elbowed him with irritation. They sat at a table as they had the last few days. They didn’t stay long, only fifteen minutes to half an hour. (And they only stayed half an hour once because Niall had to get one of the cronuts that he had been pining for since he saw them.)
Harry was looking at their text message thread. The last message was from him. Are you working now? C’mon, Cupcake, you’re killing me here :(
It went unanswered since yesterday afternoon.
“He’s trying to talk to Miss Cupcake,” Niall rolled his eyes. He missed the back and forth between the girl behind the counter. “But I think he’s being a bit ridiculous.”
“Oh, were you her bad date?” She frowned.
Harry was still looking at his phone, checking his schedules, and making sure he didn’t miss anything in his email or messages from his mum or sister. But the moment the girl behind the counter spoke, his head snapped up to meet her gaze.
“What bad date?” He asked, his voice low, menacing.
The girl behind the counter blanched. Feeling bad she revealed something she obviously wasn’t supposed to and quite honestly, if he was her bad date, that was a horrible thing to announce. It was a reflex. “I don’t know, actually,” she tried to backtrack. “I don’t know why I said that out loud.”
“We won’t tell, darling,” Niall assured her. “Do you know when Miss Cupcake works, it would save Harry—and you—a lot of trouble.”
“OH!” She shook her head and went around to the front of the counter. Her eyes widened. “You’re Harry. Context clues, I didn’t recognize you without gloves,” she smiled excitedly. “Thank goodness, I almost closed this place down.”
Harry turned to the girl again feeling a warmth pass over him at the idea that she talked about him to her friend. “Oh brother, so she does like Harry?” Niall grumbled.
“I’m Maeve,” she announced.
“Maeve,” Harry stood up and held his hand out to her. “Nice to meet you.”
“You have a very cute niece.”
Now Harry really couldn’t help but smile because that little girl was practically his own pride and joy. And she was very cute. Plus, it meant she really was talking about Harry to her friend and that had to mean something. “Thank you, she’s perfect,” he agreed. But then he refocused on why he was haunting the bakery. “Does she not work during the day?”
“She pops in,” Maeve shrugged and fiddled with the cupcake display. He noted there was a raspberry filled one on the top tier. He recognized that cake and frosting pair anywhere. “But she’s been mostly coming in after close,” she admitted. “She’s been a little...stingy with details about everything. She gets like this sometimes. Compartmentalizes things so she can deal with it when she needs to,” Maeve bit her lip. “She’s visiting her dad right now.”
Harry realized there was very little he really knew about her. Most of their chatting had surrounded the bakery, boxing, and Harry’s niece. There was a little bit of information about their education and some books and hobbies they liked. But there wasn’t a huge depth of knowledge of her family.
“Oh,” Harry felt defeated again. “Uh... I guess we’ll go then,” he mumbled. “Try later.”
Maeve sighed. “She really likes you, Harry. Really,” she promised with a sad smile. “She’s just...a little stubborn and careful with her heart.”
Harry nodded. “Got it,” he could handle that.
*
She parked as close as she could to the bakery in the parking lot. Thinking about all the steps and stances that Louis and Harry had told her during her class. She took a deep breath and opened her car door. As she went to the back of her car to grab supplies from her trunk, she noticed a plethora of other cars parked in the lot—most people were probably at the restaurant near the waterfront. But there was no way she could miss the car she had accidentally dinged with her door just a few spaces down and across the row from her.
Once more, her gaze met the intense green gaze in the driver’s seat. She sighed knowing there was no escaping this talk anymore. Harry put a bookmark in the novel he was reading while waiting and set it on the passenger seat beside him. He locked his car and hurried to her side, taking the heavy bags of flour and sugar she bought to tide her over until the delivery came to the bakery in the morning. He didn’t speak to her as they walked to the storefront. She was overwhelmingly aware, once more, how safe she felt with Harry beside her in the nearly deserted parking lot. She unlocked the front and held the door open for Harry to enter. “Were you waiting long?” She asked.
He shrugged, putting the supplies on his now regular table while she fiddled with the display case and cupcake display once more. The raspberry one was missing from the top and she went behind the counter to get another. Harry closed the door and locked it, so she was safe inside. It was dark, the only light was a low soft glow coming from the case of treats. It had the glow of a candle, and he wondered if there was a way to keep it that way during the day because it was so warm it made him want one of everything that was in the display. “Yes,” he nodded. “S’okay.”
That felt worse. If he was willing to admit it, it meant he was there a while.
“I’m sorry,” her cheeks felt warm. “I should have just told you when I was working,” she was willing to admit when she was wrong. Harry watched in fascination as she placed the raspberry filled cupcake on top. He wondered if it had always been the one she put on top. He would have imagined the chocolate ganache one was a fan favorite, or the vanilla sprinkles one with the little toothpick and label of A Pinch of Sprinkles on it.
He shrugged again, nearly indifferent. “S’okay,” he repeated. “Read most of my book.”
“Is it a good read?” She asked and grabbed the bag of flour Harry had settled on the table and started for the back. He grabbed the bag of sugar and followed behind her.
He nodded. “Yeah...it’s,” he sighed. “S’a little darker than I expected,” he shrugged. “Was hoping for something lighter.”
“I only read rom-coms in book form,” she smiled. “It’s very light reading, but probably not what you want.”
“Rom-coms?” He repeated. She nodded. “Y’don’t strike me as a rom-com kind of girl.”
“No?”
“Y’seem more like a film noir or suspense.”
“I’ve had enough suspense for a while,” she muttered and turned to her ovens to preheat. Harry placed the sugar beside the flour bag and sat in the same chair he sat in when he fell asleep a couple months prior. He watched her in the same way he had before as she flittered around the kitchen, humming to herself as she worked. “How’s the baby?” She asked.
They were ignoring the elephant in the room, it seemed. But it was the first time he’d seen her since the self-defense lesson. In between his visits to the bakery (his stalking grounds, as Niall was calling it) he had been splitting his time between training, teaching, and ensuring Driven, his gym, was working as expected. He had to call an electrician because the lights in the men’s bathroom kept going out despite the fact, he had already replaced the circuit and lightbulbs a handful of times. But he had gone to see Gemma and his niece two days prior to get his fix of the sweet little girl who made him feel so much better about all the frustration he felt about his favorite Cupcake.
He couldn’t help but smile. “Perfect.”
She grinned back and nodded. “Good, and your sister?”
“Good, thanks for asking,” he thought that was polite of her—he always noticed when people asked about his sister. It wasn’t often. Once the baby was there, it was like they forgot about the mum.
“Does your mom live nearby?” She asked.
“Yeah, especially with the baby. Mum sold her house the moment she found out Gem was pregnant.”
She laughed. “That’s sweet. You’re all close?”
“Yes,” he nodded. “Mum’s m’hero,” his voice was filled with admiration so thick it made her feel wobbly on her feet. She wished she had that kind of admiration for her mother. “How ‘bout you? Maeve said y’were visiting your dad? He lives nearby?”
She nodded, guarded. “I feel the way about my dad, the way you feel about your mom,” she explained. There was a pause in conversation that seemed to stretch farther than it needed to. Maybe he was trying to get her to break first. Perhaps she did. “You talked to Maeve?”
He looked at her, tapping his fingers lightly on the table. “Didn’t leave me many options, Cupcake,” he reminded her.
She swallowed thickly, nodded. “That’s fair,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”
“Can you please tell me?”
She shook her head. Harry felt so agitated, so defeated. “Not yet,” the bit of hope creeped back in. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she admitted, her voice cracking slightly. She swallowed the lump of emotion in her throat and turned away from him. “Sorry,” she sniffled. His heart broke. Quickly, he realized it wasn’t her wanting to hide it from him. It was painful to watch that frustration fall on her face.
“Oh, kitten,” he frowned. He stood quickly and made it to her side. He put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly not wanting to touch more than she wanted or needed in that moment. His imagination could only guess what went wrong on her date and it was painful to think about for him. He wanted to comfort her, but it had to be at her pace.
At once she melted into his touch. She turned quickly, almost reflexively into his embrace. Her face pressed against his shoulder, her arms wrapped up around his back, and she inhaled shakily. It felt awful to see her sad, feel the anxiety coming off her in waves. But Harry was grateful to hold her so close to him. “M’here, Cupcake,” he promised. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, nodded against him.
Harry could live with ‘not yet.’ For now.
*
Over the next week, they went back to texting throughout the day and chatting well beyond bedtime on the nights she wasn’t at the bakery. Additionally, Harry walked beside her from her car to the bakery when she arrived and back through the dark parking lot. Not once did he ask her what went wrong with her date even though it was killing him. She wasn’t budging. She knew Harry was waiting for more details, but she couldn’t. It hurt and she didn’t want to think about it—even if she actually did want to tell him. It was overwhelmingly kind that Harry appeared beside her car—especially at night.
“I’m still really sorry about Clay,” she frowned. Harry didn’t park far away from her like he did the other night. But she was very mindful of her opening the door and not bumping into his car.
“S’okay,” he smiled and rubbed his fingers on the little indent. “Reminds me of you,” he winked at her.
Her heart fluttered and she looked away briefly before smiling back at him. “Like you need more reminders of me,” she murmured.
“Can never have enough, Cupcake,” he assured her. “Can I kiss y’goodnight?” He asked on the third night he walked her though the dark parking lot. Her heart literally skipped a beat. Speechless. He tapped his cheek. “Jus’ the cheek, kitten. Need a proper date before I really kiss you,” he acknowledged and smiled shyly at her. That boyish grin that made her weak in the knees. Breathlessly she nodded. His lips swept across her cheek. It was brief and soft. Like a piece of her hair had brushed over her face and tickled her skin. “Thank you,” he grinned. “Been dying t’do that,” he admitted and once more tucked her safely in her car.
Harry mentioned it only twice more. He never pressed or demanded she reveal the facts of her bad date. It was more of—what he hoped was—a gentle reminder. He was waiting for more information. All he wanted was to assuage her worries and fears. She attended the second class for her self-defense lessons (dropping off a box of blueberry scones at the front desk had everyone in the class asking if they could go after the lesson to pick out their own sweet treats). Harry continued to boil with anger just thinking about her using the moves he and Louis taught her. But it was obvious he was much less angry than the previous week. More so, his anger didn’t extend to her. He was mad, but he understood her choice to keep it to herself.
Louis was going over demonstrations using Harry as the attacker. Everyone watched with rapt attention. “Your goal is to get away,” it was repeated about a hundred times and Harry had the hardest time watching her every time it was repeated. Each time it was said, she flinched. He wasn’t sure she knew it or not—it was a reflex. But she did get away. It terrified her still.
Harry couldn’t help but notice she wasn’t pushing him away. Every night, she thanked him profusely for coming to the bakery and walking her to and from the car. She could see his anger growing beneath the surface. He wanted to know. She was trying so hard to brush it off. It wasn’t a big deal. Now she had two classes under her belt, and she promised herself she would never be in such a vulnerable position again.
“Can I watch you at work?” She asked randomly. It was a morning shift this time. She was covered in flour, and she had frosting streaked in her hair leftover from when she put it up after icing four dozen cupcakes. Harry didn’t think she could look cuter if she tried.
“Watch me?” He repeated.
“Not this again,” she smirked.
He chuckled. “Y’want to watch me train?” He repeated anyway.
She shrugged. “You always watch me bake and stuff.”
“You’ve attended the class, Cupcake. S’pretty much the same thing,” he reminded her.
He noted her cheeks turned pink. “Um...if you don’t want me to hang around then—”
Harry nearly gasped. “Oh, no. No way, kitten. I want y’around. I promise,” he assured her. “Jus’ don’t want you t’be bored.”
“I won’t be,” she shook her head.
That was how she ended up sitting beside the ring, Louis padded and guarded while Harry punched and punched and punched for over an hour. His breath was heaving, and his body was slick with sweat. She watched intently examining his form and his moves like she would one day repeat them.
When he came for water at the end of his training session, he was heavy breathing and smiling at her. He struggled to get the towel he had from his bag beside her with his gloves on. “Bored?” He asked.
“Not even a little,” she assured him, grabbing the little towel and swiping it across his forehead. It felt intimate and made Harry feel warm all throughout his body. “Can I try?” She asked with an impish smile.
He chuckled and nodded. “Come on,” he held the ropes open for her to enter the ring. She wasn’t wearing the right shoes or equipment. Louis rolled his eyes discreetly at Harry and held the pads out for her to hit. “Make the fist I showed you,” she did for both hands. “S’all the balance in your legs,” he promised. “No balance, no punch, no follow-through. Punch through the pad,” he explained and guided her hand to the pad slowly so she could see how it would look and feel to go through it.
“Pretend it’s Harry,” Louis suggested. “That’s what I do.”
She giggled. “I don’t think I could throw a punch if I thought it was Harry,” she admitted and gave her best attempt. It was honestly exhausting. She only threw a dozen or so punches and was breathless as she answered Louis.
“You’ll get there,” he assured her.
Harry scowled at him. “Take the pads off.”
“No, you lunatic.”
“Coward.”
She giggled, thanked Louis, and twisted herself out of the ring again. “That was fun,” she told him. “I can see why you like it. Plus, you’re really good at it.”
Harry was staring at her, the way that sent all the butterflies in the world directly to her stomach and began to flutter as if they were trying to escape. His gaze was firm but gentle, his eyes almost glowing somehow as he looked her over. “Please tell me, Cupcake. I want t’help,” his voice was quiet, begging ever so gently.
She looked at the floor, their shoes were nearly toe-to-toe. “I can’t,” she whispered back.
He nodded, defeat did not come easy to him, and she knew that. “I have t’shower, do some office stuff. Get ready for some lessons and classes,” he told her, his voice the slightest bit disappointed.
“Want me to watch you in the shower too?” She asked hoping to alleviate the mood. It worked, his smile returned to his pretty lips, and he chuckled.
“Hell yes, Cupcake,” he shook his head at her cuteness. “Maybe next time. Not here,” he winked.
Even though it was her that was forward it still made her blush. Plus, joke or not, she agreed here was not a good idea. “I have to do some errands anyway,” she admitted.
“I’ll walk you t’your car,” but she knew he would. It was like a safety blanket being wrapped around her.
She really liked it.
*
After her third self-defense lesson she was feeling more confident. She even showed Maeve some of her moves in the back kitchen. Shadowboxing the same way that she saw Harry do to Louis the night she met him. “I don’t know who thought it was a good idea to give the Queen of Sugar boxing lessons,” Maeve rolled her eyes.
Honestly, she was feeling better. More confident. Plus, she was enjoying her not-so-date-dates with Harry. There was one night when Harry wasn’t around, and she realized she missed him so much. Not only because the dark parking lot seemed more foreboding but because his presence made her happy. Happier than she had been in a really long time. It felt undeserving to be so happy but it wasn’t something she thought about when he was actually there. I missed you.
Oh? 😍
Sorry, I know that’s...
A lot...
I miss you all the time, Cupcake. Think about you all day.
The message made her warm and she wished she could explain how simple it seemed to just have Harry fit in her life. They were busy people, but he always managed to come by and see her. She enjoyed watching him train or sitting with Sarah at the front desk and chatting while he taught classes and lessons. Maeve teased her every time he arrived and she wasn’t there. Can’t you just give him your schedule? The poor guy is going to have to train twice as hard to get rid of the extra cupcake weight.
I like to keep him guessing a little 😉
Today, she was up front on her own—one of her employees called out sick and she didn’t mind in the slightest. Working up front was one of her favorite tasks. Interacting with customers and sharing her gift was something she enjoyed thoroughly. Her other coworker was out back, working on inventory and prepping the bagels for her monthly bagel sale.
Ding.
The bell attached to the front door signaled whenever customers arrived or departed. It was a busy morning. So busy that it took her a minute to realize Harry was sitting with Niall at one of the tables. Niall gave her a wave as she finally got caught in his gaze. She waved back, smiling brightly and paused the customers that were at the counter while she ran to the back and then to the table as quickly as she could. She pecked Harry on the cheek without thinking and deposited a raspberry filled cupcake and a personal sized loaf of Irish soda bread.
Harry felt as gooey as the filling on the inside of his cupcake. Her soft little kiss made him crazier for her. Watching her made him happy. Being around her made him happy. Happier than the little kid that was bullied could have dreamed.
Niall was making noises that would have embarrassed the porn industry while eating his bread. Harry snorted at him, tried to steal a piece, only for Niall to slap his hand away. “Eat your cupcake,” he nearly snarled.
“She could make more, m’sure.”
Niall shook his head stuffing his face of the treat made specially for him.
Harry liked watching her. He wondered if it was the same way she felt when she watched him. People obviously fell in love with her the moment they spoke to her. Unironically, she was so sweet. Of course she was. It was like she was a sprinkles-fairy. This ethereal being that passed out sweet treats to everyone.
Ding.
With her back turned to get another bag, she didn’t notice the influx of new customers. When she turned back, her heart leapt to her throat. She was lucky she didn’t drop the dozen cookies she was packaging.
“Shit,” she whispered mostly to herself. He hadn’t seen her yet. Fortunately, it was crowded enough to hide behind her wall of customers. All the progress she had made, the classes thus far, all seemed for naught at that moment. Her gaze darted to Harry and Niall. They were unaware of the turmoil she was facing while she packaged treats for the next customer. Her stomach churned uneasily.
If Harry just looked at her, she knew he would know. “Hey Lexi!” She called toward the back room. But Harry was chatting with Niall. Niall was focused on his soda bread. Neither of them noticed the anxiety that swept over her. Lexi doesn’t answer at first. Making her more anxious and scared. It shouldn’t be that way. He shouldn’t ruin the one place she loved most.
Niall now had crumbs on his cheeks, but his head tilted curiously in the direction of her main display. “Harry, something’s wrong,” Niall’s voice was quiet.
Harry’s gaze snapped up defensively. Sure enough, her whole demeanor had changed. Harry could see it. Her smile was tight, and her eyes darted toward the door and the customer in front of her more times in ten seconds than Harry could ever begin to count. Harry wanted to kick himself. How long had she looked like that?
After an eternity, Lexi finally appeared. She mumbled something to her employee and headed to the back kitchen. Not even a glance in Harry’s direction. Without fanfare, without permission, Harry marched his way into the back almost as soon as she left his view.
“Excuse me,” Lexi said. “Hey, that’s employee—”
“He’s fine, Lexi,” she answered quietly.
Harry found her in the kitchen, hand clutching the front collar of her shirt, her eyes lit with anxiety while she paced back and forth. “Is he here?” He asked lowly, while she moved quickly across the kitchen.
She tried to remember the last time she felt safe. It was her dad, right? Her dad before...before everything. Before she moved her shop here. Before she uprooted her life.
But there were those brief moments where she was overcome with how safe she felt in Harry’s presence. Walking to his fight for the first time. Each time he walked her to her car. How his hand felt when he pressed her fingers into a fist.
She nodded, her eyes watering.
He spun almost immediately to do who knows what. He didn’t know and she certainly didn’t know.
“No, don’t leave me!” She practically shouted before he could hardly take a step further. She started to follow him but he stopped at the sound of despair in her voice.
Harry groaned lowly; it came out nearly as a growl. He turned back to her immediately as if it pained him. “M’never leaving you,” his eyes were so dark and desperate—her whole body felt heavy at the seriousness of his words. Breathless again. “Please don’t ask me that,” his eyes darted back toward the front of the bakery.
“Harry, please,” she whispered.
His hands were already balled into fists. He shook his head. “Cupcake,” he grumbled. It was such an oxymoron in itself. Harry was calling her one of the sweetest things in the world and it sounded downright terrifying.
“Please, Harry,” she begged, grabbing one of his closed fists. “I need you,” she whispered.
Groaning again, he rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “Fine,” he snapped.
She felt bad making him stay. She knew she was forcing his hand, but she was scared. To soften the blow, she threw herself at him. Arms around his neck, face buried in his shirt. She sighed with relief with the feel of him: solid, warm, protective against her body. Harry was safe. He proved that already and she still hardly knew him. It wasn’t hard. It shouldn’t have been hard for her date to make her feel safe.
Harry was momentarily shocked before he returned the hug, one arm looped around her back, the other cupping the back of her head. It was like the antidote to an disease she didn’t know she had. Another loud sigh escaped her. Like the feeling of Harry was cause for another wave of relief.
“What did he do?” He mumbled into her hair. She ignored him and scrunched her eyes shut. “Please, Cupcake,” he begged. She realized she wanted to tell Harry.
“I’m so embarrassed,” she whispered. “I don’t even know why I went out with him...I had met you and—”
“Doesn’t matter, kitten,” he shook his head. “He doesn’t get t’make y’feel unsafe,” he reminded her.
“It was such bad judgment.”
He shook his head again. “No, Cupcake. He doesn’t get t’make y’feel that way. S’not you. S’not asking a lot t’feel safe on a date. S’not even the bare minimum. Y’don’t have poor judgment. Your judgment got y’out of there that night. S’why y’signed up for classes and—”
It poured out of her at that moment. She told him everything. In the middle of the story, she tried to downplay it sensing the way his body tightened around her with every word. Explained why she signed up for the self-defense class. Every detail and emotion she felt for the last few weeks. How scared she was that very night. Why she requested Harry and chatted with him until three in the morning. How he made her feel better when she didn’t think she could. How safe she felt around him in general.
At the end, Harry pulled away from her.
Her heart felt heavy. Now he wouldn’t like her. She was broken and hurt. Harry didn’t want to be a bodyguard, nor should he have to be. “I need t’go to the gym,” he started toward the front, and she thought that was it. It was the last she would see of him. He was too overwhelmed with how stupid she was. This wasn’t what he wanted. Someone who couldn’t defend herself or be smart enough to see the signs earlier.
“Harry, I’m sorry—” She managed to croak with tears thick in her voice and vision. Right as he reached the threshold back to the front of the bakery. He was shaking. Every inch of him. She wondered how he wasn’t a blur from how much he shook. In the moment it took for the apology to form in her mouth, he was back in front of her.
He grabbed her firmly but still softly by the chin, held her sweet face between his palms. Gazed into her eyes and shook his head slowly. His eye contact was overwhelming but still felt so good. “You are to never. Ever. Apologize.” Her eyes welled with more tears. She couldn’t do anything but nod at him. Her heart felt so heavy and broken. But Harry was looking at her. Taking in every inch of her face and he sighed. “M’sorry, Cupcake; m'angry. But s'not something you need t'apologize for. Y'didn't do anything wrong. M'jus' mad I wasn't there for you,” he whispered and brought her back in to hold her against him once more. Her body felt relieved it was ridiculous for him to feel bad--he didn't even know she was going on a date. She didn't want him to feel bad.
"It's not your fault either," she whispered. Harry sighed with relief and he kissed the top of her hair.
She lost track of how long they stood there. It could have been two minutes or two hours. All she felt was Harry’s warm body against hers and reveled in how good it felt. “Call me a half hour before you’re ready to leave here. I’ll come walk you t’your car.”
She smiled softly, hoping to alleviate the tension now that a significant portion of time had passed. “Even if it’s in the middle of the night and—”
He didn’t think her joke was funny at all. “If y’call,” he repeated, interrupting her, his eyes were hard and serious. No room for joking at all. “I’ll be here.”
He was rapidly making her fall in love with him.
*
“Hey Dad,” she smiled softly sitting across from him at the dinner table. He grinned at her.
“Hey sweetie. How was your day?”
“Good! Did you see the game?” She asked. He nodded.
“Your guy did well, don’t you think?”
She laughed, shaking her head and blushed a bit. “Max Kepler is not my guy, Dad.”
“I didn’t say his name, honey,” he reminded her with a chuckle.
She rolled her eyes and bit the inside of her cheek. “I think I met a guy, actually,” she rushed out quickly.
“Oh?” He looked at her curiously, tilted his head ever so slightly and smiled. “That’s nice, sweetie. You haven’t had a boyfriend in a while. You need someone to...chat with, depend on,” he said knowingly. “I want to know you’re taken care of.”
“Dad, that is so 1950s of you. I don’t need a guy to take care of me.”
“Oh honey, I know you don’t. But I want you to have someone,” his voice was gentle.
For a moment she just looked at him. Thought long about all the things that had happened since she met Harry almost three months prior. It was a big deal to tell her dad about Harry. She wanted to make sure it was the right move especially after she was feeling poorly about her gut feeling. But she thought of Harry, the reassurance he gave her that it wasn’t her poor judgment that caused her bad date.
“His name is Harry. He’s a boxer,” she shrugged. “The raspberry filled cupcakes are his favorite.”
“Well, then he’s perfect. Right?”
She laughed, nodded, then bit her lip. “I mean...he’s...” she sighed forgoing all the details about how she was insane to let him steer her to his boxing match. How he helped her with self-defense classes. And why she was taking self-defense classes. No. She would tell him how they met another day. When Harry and she defined more of what their relationship was... if there was a relationship to be had. “I like him,” she admitted. “Then that’s all that really matters, honey,” he assured her. It felt like a blessing.
She couldn't wait to see Harry.
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cheshirebitch · 2 days
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ℕ𝕠𝕥 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕆𝕡𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕤
(Alastor x Angel Dust’s Sister!Reader) pt. 2
It really has been a long time, huh?
( previous ) -> ( next )
I have never seen Anthony look at me like that, as though I’m the villain destroying his life. But, last I checked, he was the one going by the real villain that actually did take his life. It was purely distasteful with his choice of name, let alone the fact that was his porno name. What was so wrong with his actual name?
“Listen toots, I didn’t want to ask you for help. We didn’t have any other choice.” The venom spat back at me made my eyes narrow at him. What the fuck is his problem? All of this attitude is not how Anthony would talk to me. It felt like this whole new persona was taking over who he really is. I wanted to rip him apart, but not in front of these people. I can’t let everyone know my weaknesses, even if they pretty much all knew tiny parts.
“I get that. So I’ll ask again, what did you need help with?” I seethed through my teeth, feeling the watching eyes of all his friends. I only tensed up at my own attitude when I remembered Alastor and Lucifer were here too. I rolled my eyes closed and took a deep breath in and out before having an eerily calm aura surrounding me. Knowing I wasn’t going to get an answer out of the pissed off porn star brother, I looked towards Charlie. I could tell I made her nervous, shivers running down her spine before she straightened herself out and answered me.
“Well, I’m sure you’ve heard that we- uh-“ She glanced back at Lucifer who was wide eyed back, shrugging slightly as a response.
“That you,” pointing at Niffty with a smug smile, “killed the great and Holy Adam? Yeah, hard to miss when it’s being broadcasted on every device in hell.” I crossed my arms, smiling. It was really amusing to see Lucifer step in with his slip up of phrasing. Alastor also put on a good show by standing against Adam. I never expected him to actually take on such a powerful Heaven icon.
“Yeah, well, we need help with reinforcement in case the angels decide to retaliate.” She nervously fidgeted with her fingers, Lucifer watching me with anticipation. They all were, really. I was honored they considered me for help against heaven. Pretending to be debating it, I took long strides between Lucifer and Alastor.
“With all things considered, that’s a lot of my members being potentially killed for you. What do you have to offer me to make it worthwhile?” My hand started to glow pink, flexing my fingers and watching Charlie. Lucifer couldn’t make a deal with me or that’ll make more problems, only leaving Charlie and Alastor. Not like Luci would ever make the trust between us obvious. It would be a poor move if he wants to keep his weaknesses unknown. Alastor would rather drop dead than to be on a leash of someone else, though I have a sneaky suspicion it’s because he’s already on a leash. I should ask him about it next time we have one of our talks. Also, I already knew what they were going to sell to me but I can’t just make an assumption with it.
“We will make sure Angel Dust gets redeemed.” My eyes light up pink, turning around to look at Alastor. He held his hand out casually, opposite of how Charlie held hers against her chest. What a bland, and predictable, deal offer.
“Alastor, baby, I already knew that. We both knew that.” I winked at him. “So, what else?” His smile strained, despite it appearing to become more entertained. I read him like a book. It wasn’t very hard since he loves to hide behind a smile, saying it made things more intimidating. I’d like to think it’s more so the idea of being able to bottle those emotions he loves to hide.
“What else? Darling, I think it’s more than reasonable for that to be a big deal.” He smiled his sharp teeth, my eyes watched them carefully. A sneaky feeling crawling up my spine as my eyes stuck like a magnet to him. That’s when Lucifer pushed Alastor’s arm down, rolling his sleeves up, walking towards me. He stuck his hand outstretched towards me, trying to intimidate me with a hard stare. I just smiled in response, awaiting for his deal. I guess they really are desperate if Luci won’t even let Alastor and I pretend to hash out this deal. It was already mutually understood what he was going to offer was more than just that. He was just toying with the rest.
“We will get your brother into heaven, and you.” My smile froze on my face. I couldn’t get into Heaven. No matter how hard any of us tries, I’ll always be stuck here in hell. That fate was sealed long ago. My hands have been permanently stained red and black from how many lives I selfishly took after the death of my two siblings. My hands crossed tightly behind my back as I pondered harder over what he was promising.
I don’t think I want to go to Heaven. I couldn’t place why but something small was trying to tug me to decide to stay in hell.
Something small. The idea of being in heaven with my two younger siblings was bigger. Hell, maybe even the forgotten sibling will be there too.
“Can you even make deals, Luci?” I purred out the nickname in a taunting manner, giving a small moment of silence between us. Since he wanted to air out dirty laundry, I’ll give more hints to how close we actually are. But, he definitely didn’t think he could make a deal either. Charlie tried reasoning with him while Alastor watched from the sidelines, an odd look in his eyes. They flickered to Lucifer before narrowing with displeasure. I guess someone doesn’t like sharing friends.
“I guess we will see, won’t we La Morte.” He was struggling to remain professional. Neither of us wanted to act like this. This was all just a show for our professional standpoints, but I hated it. I’ve had to act professional and put together all my life, no matter how hard I fought against my father to create a life for myself and my siblings who wanted out. That’s all any of us wanted. Lucifer was a good guy despite the title he carries. His daughter is also an amazing girl. I would have agreed to do this either way. But, too many eyes were watching in this moment, too many windows and vulnerability to be spotted for our soft realities of each other. My hand gripped his as pink and gold clashed together.
“You got a deal, Satan.” My smile turned poisonous as I gripped his hand. My magic branded his palm with a pink heart, healing itself just as quickly into a scar. I felt the searing pain of a tally mark etch into my back, ignoring the feeling and refusing to let it slip out that it even happened.
“Anyways, enough with the professional talk. If we are going to be a team, call me by my name. I’m (Y/n).” Whether they could tell or not, my smile was genuine when I reached to shake hands with Charlie, Lucifer still rubbing his hand where the heart was branded onto him. Alastor watched heavily, something else pulling the weight of his stare on me. There’s no way he knows about the reciprocating brand mark. What can he notice that I don’t have hidden?
“Your name is really beautiful! I’m glad I don’t have to call you Death every time I refer to you now.” Charlie smiled genuinely back. Trying his best to make it sound like he has never called me by my name before. My eyes raked over his figure, understanding it’s a secret he wants to keep.
“Well of course, any friend of Anth- I mean Angel Dust, is a friend of mine.” The sibling sense kicked in before I even had to turn around. Anthony just rolled his eyes at me. Quick movements led to my shoe being thrown at Anthony’s head, smacking him hard enough in the face to send him backwards.
“Che cazzo!” (What the fuck!) My head snapped 180 with my body facing Charlie still. Through a clenched jaw and wide wild eyes, I lectured Anthony under my breath.
“Schialla, stronzo.” (Chill out, Asshole.) He immediately stopped, slouching against the wall. Anthony muttered under his breath but at least it wasn’t as disrespectful and obvious. Husk found it amusing enough to stifle a laugh with Vaggie.
“So, what’s the war plans?” I beamed, excited to get murderous for a good cause. Those exorcists killed a lot of my people, pissing off my whole team and myself tremendously. That was our family they were murdering brutally, just so they could have their sick fun and somehow remain in the sky. That was something Charlie and I could get along with.
“About that…” Lucifer awkwardly smiled. You’ve got to be joking. They have nothing? My eyes glanced at Alastor, who was still staring at me. I narrowed my eyes on him, silently asking “you serious right now?” to which he looked amused and shrugged. Bastardo, it’s your skin also being risked here.
“Okay, what do I have to work with here?” Charlie reappeared with a stack of papers and dropped them into my hands. I blinked a couple times, gazing through the words scribbled on the papers. These were lousy attempts at battle plans or any sort of war plans.
“I’ll revise these and have them back to you soon. I do request to have somewhere nearby for me to stay, along with my members. Fifteen minutes away isn’t a good distance, doll.” Observing Charlie’s timid behavior. Lucifer peered behind his daughter, gauging my reaction to everything. I had my work cut out for me but any excuse to be involved in Anthony’s life again was something I was willing to risk everything for.
“Consider it done. Let’s take a stroll so I can show you where it’s at.” Lucifer snapped his fingers and excitedly held his arm out for me to take to walk with him. He was always trying his best to put on a front, but I know he’s still struggling. I mean we still meet and talk about ways for him to mend the broken relationship with Charlie. But, it feels like another negative energy was coming from where my other ally stood. When I turned to Alastor, his eyes were still locked onto my figure, wide and slightly terrifying. The look alone ran a chill down my spine. Why did it feel more exciting than terrifying?
“You coming?” Lucifer glanced backwards towards me, forcing me to peel my eyes away from the enticing ruby set still locked on me. Instead, my eyes met the pale yellow and glowing red set. The tension felt high, pushing me to leave immediately.
“Yeah, of course. Just taking the place in since I’ll be staying here, and potentially dying here.” I laughed sadistically as Lucifer frowned and elbowed me.
“Not funny. There is no way myself, or any of us, will let something happen to you. Unless you get redeemed, too.” He winked trying to sell the confidence he could get me into heaven with my brother. I doubt it, but no harm in trying.
Following down the hall, around back, there was a warehouse building directly behind it. It mirrored the looks of my warehouses that have been distributed in my territories. I could easily move a little over half of my people within this building, comfortably. The smile slowly dragged across my face before I could stop it. Lucifer was smiling back at me, satisfied.
“Che bello…” (How beautiful…) My whole body relaxed, feeling almost unnatural. I didn’t know how to handle how I was feeling at all. All this weight that’s been pushing down on my shoulders just lifted enough for me to breathe, to relax. No one has ever done something this tremendous for me. I could feel tears brimming my eyes, ripping me out of that relaxed feeling. Instead, it was replaced with a sense of dread and need to feel that relaxed again. Lucifer was smiling softly, hand snaked around my waist as he waited.
“You want to go see the inside, (Y/n).” A small smile remained as I allowed his arm to remain, feeling natural and familiar, but so wrong.
“We can’t keep doing this, Angel. We both know that!” Lucifer was having one of his episodes again. The thoughts of Lilith coming back any second, just to see him fucking some other girl and actually leave him type of thoughts. Not that I could ever understand what he’s going through and show sympathy, but rather I’m getting tired of fixing what I didn’t break.
“Listen, Luci, I know.” He stopped. In the poorly lit room, I could see his eyes glowing and a faint outline of his body shape standing on the opposite side of the bed. He knows what’s coming.
“What do you mean?” His eyes pierced mine. A hard stare swimming with all sorts of emotions. Panic was in the center of the tornado.
“Luci, we can’t keep having the same conversation every other day.” I sighed as he remained frozen in fear. One wrong move and I can destroy everything.
“I know you still love her. Nothing could ever change that. You have spent all of eternity together, created a beautiful daughter, ruled over hell. It’s not something you can just fix in seven years, and I never expected you to.” His eye twitched as his black hands started to curl in, making fists. I watched carefully how his breathing was now heavier. I didn’t want to make a bigger mess but I can’t mindlessly try and heal him again, no matter how badly I wanted to.
“What I did expect was some sort of progress to prove that you were learning to let go and love me.” It felt selfish how I was wording it, but my own abandonment issues were strangling me. It hurt to breathe and my vision was blurring. He huffed out, about to deny everything I’m saying.
“I know you love me, but not as much as Lilith.” My eyes froze on Lucifer in panic. Merda. (Shit.) I said her name.
“Don’t you ever say her name. Especially not like that. If she loved me, she wouldn’t have disappeared, abandoned me or Charlie. You don’t know anything.” I knew he didn’t mean it at the moment but my mom taught me one thing, never let a man tell you twice he doesn’t want you.
“It’s over, Lucifer.” I moved slowly to the door, refusing to turn my back to him and his eerie glowing eyes in the dark room, shutting the door quietly and carefully behind me.
During my walk back, it felt like a walk of shame. Opening and closing my door as quietly as possible to my office, sliding my back down the door. There is where I sobbed for hours, grieving a relationship where I actually felt loved, relaxed, and free from the impact my father has held on me all my life. This is where I vowed to never allow myself to get emotionally attached again.
(As always, the characters belong to their owner and the story belongs to me. If you have any requests or ideas, send them over! I love to hear feedback! I will also gladly try to write things for my supporters! I have put a LOT of research and planning into this series! I also researched Italian to try and make it as real as possible! Thank you for the love and I hope y’all have a great day! <3 :)!)
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bombuni · 2 days
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contains: poly!ateez x gn!reader, soft ateez taking care of u, non-verbal and self-isolating reader, implied depressed/chronically ill reader
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you: babies i think it’s better if you don’t come over tonight
joong: Everything ok?
minmin: but im hungry and u said u’d make dinner :(
woo: WE’RE HUNGRY!!! OM NOM NOM
you: just not feeling it tonight. sorry
You shut your phone off with guilt weighing in your heart. You had promised your boys a nice home-made dinner after a hard week full of non-stop practicing. You knew they’d been looking forward to it the entire week, the stress-free time they’d get to spend with you, but, there’s a pit in your stomach that’s been growing the past week and now it’s big enough to stop you from doing anything else but wallow in your thoughts. Now the guilt just adds to it.
There’s times when you don’t have energy for anything. Not even for your favorite people on Earth and it’s simply your body’s fault. At least you try to tell yourself that.
There’s no response to your last message and you sent it an hour ago. Usually you’d be suspicious about the lack of whining and bickering, but you’re just too tired to worry as fatigue fogs your senses. You’re set for a night of self-pity when your front door unlocks, myriads of voices barging in and breaking the calm of your apartment. You already feel a headache coming on as Wooyoung, like usual, argues about whatever hill he’s chosen to die on.
You want to get up to greet them, but somethings stopping you. The pit in your stomach almost weighs you down, your limbs too heavy to move now. You sigh and surrender to your body’s fatigue.
Seonghwa watches you with a sad look on his face. He knows all the tell-tale signs of your sad ruts by now, the most obvious of all being when you go out of your way to isolate yourself. It hurts him because he wants to help you, but he‘s not quite sure how to do it right with you.
“Sweet thing,” he coos quietly and lays a gentle hand atop yours, “how do you feel?”
His attention turns a switch on in you, feeling yourself melt against his soft touch and caring voice. You shrug, feeling a loss of words. You don’t really have any to describe how you feel. Or rather, there’s a boulder in your throat stopping you from even attempting to say anything.
Hongjoong and San walk over, the latter immediately scooping you up into his arms despite Seonghwa’s protests. Hongjoong leans over the back of the couch, carding his fingers through your hair and tutting at the state you’re in.
“You’re not getting rid of us that easy, you know,” he mumbles.
San looks right at you even if you won’t meet his eyes, trying his best to communicate the worry he has because he knows words don’t work with you when you’re like this. Seonghwa flicks San’s forehead, pulling a loud noise of protest out of him, “Aren’t you supposed to be helping in the kitchen?”
San responds by pulling you tightly against him and closing his eyes in bliss. Seonghwa grumbles something about disrespect, but walks away to help in the kitchen himself. It’s starting to feel a little warm with San’s irresistible need to touch you and Hongjoong’s eyes not once leaving your form. It gets unbearably hot when you feel Mingi’s lips against the crown of your head, Wooyoung doing the same and immediately jumping into gently scolding you for pushing them away.
Hongjoong wants to agree but he knows it’s not what you need right now. He shushes Wooyoung, “Did you take your meds yet?”
You shake your head. Yunho walks up to you, bending down to hand you your medicine with a kind smile on his face. He takes your hand in his when you swallow your pills, kissing each of your knuckles gently, as if he fears scaring you away.
“Here.” Yeosang passes you a glass of water. There’s eight pairs of eyes on you and you can feel each one. It’s like they’re watching a zoo animal on display and you’d laugh at the thought in any other circumstance.
Jongho stands across you, intently staring you down, “You know you can’t just expect us to leave you alone, right?”
San pulls your head into his chest and throws protective arms over you as if you’re a kid getting a scolding, “Don’t be mean.”
Jongho is about to retort before Seonghwa stops him, “Ok! Ok, what Jongho means,” he kneels down next to Yunho with a gentle expression aimed at you, “Is that we want to help you, sweetheart. And it’s hard to do that when you don’t allow us to,”
Yeosang scratches at his neck as he finds the words, “We know it’s hard for you to do that, but…”
Hongjoong continues for him, “We’re just asking that you try at least. Okay?”
You hesitantly nod into San’s chest and you feel him let out a sigh of relief. Wooyoung speaks up from behind you, “You’re hogging ‘em, Sannie,”
He shakes his head violently and hugs you tighter, “No ‘m not.”
Mingi grimaces, “You totally are.”
It’s all-out war again and your body shakes between theirs as each one tries to take you for themselves. San’s still got a good grip on you as Yunho, Seonghwa, and Jongho fight to pull him off of you. Wooyoung and Mingi stand back and argue with San, really the only thing they’re good for. Hongjoong and Yeosang grimace and watch the events unfold, only waiting to step in if they notice you get overwhelmed.
But you don’t. You feel warm and loved and happy, and there’s a bubble of laughter forming in your throat and surpassing the boulder that was stuck in you before. You’ll take it one step at a time, and they’ll take that step with you.
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bom note: this is for the gays with chronic fear of being emotionally vulnerable. i tried to make readers issues as vague as possible for u. Also realistically i would not want 8 men all up in my space when im in one of these moods but it’s fantasy ok shhh
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solar-wing · 2 days
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⚣ Submission 🗣️
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⚣🗣️ A/N → Something I couldn't get out of my head after I saw this TikTok. You can't tell me this wouldn't be Jason in this situation. WARNINGS: none
⚣🗣️ Summary → Imagine being in a relationship with Jason Todd where you know Jason could easily beat you in a fight but it never stops you from talking shit as if you’ll fuck him up, and he just lets you…
⚣🗣️ Words → 851
REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛
⚣ ENJOY 🗣️
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It’s not something Jason admits he finds amusing and adorable about you, but the fact that he lets you do it without any real pushback is telling enough. Because imagine, this towering and colossal-sized man, definitely over 6 feet and huge mass with the muscles to show and is a trained fighter (no matter how informal), getting beaten in a fight between him and his shorter and/or smaller boyfriend.
And it’s not to say you could never beat him in a fight, oh no! Your Jaybirdie would never want you to believe he doubts your capability and skills like that. Actually, he’d very much like and would encourage you to be able to learn how to take him down. It would help with his anxiety and fear of you being out in the world without him there to protect you, feeling more at ease knowing you could defend yourself if need be.
He’s definitely planning to make that a reality, because if you two are going to continue to be in a relationship, Jason needs to know that you can protect yourself without him there. It’s something you both talked about and he made it clear when you first got into a serious relationship about him and his family’s side careers.
But, until then, Jason will happily and silently enjoy the trash-talking and play fights with you. It just gives him more of an excuse to have your body rubbing against his, the perv…
It always starts small and silly.
Whether you’re just feeling playful or want attention, it doesn’t matter. You and Jason will be cuddling on the couch or the bed and engaging in your usual harmless domestic banter. Or he’ll be minding his own business cooking, reading, or going over cases and reports, and you’ll just come up and start messing with him.
Messing up his hair, poking him in his face, slapping his butt, and shoving against his body. Despite popular belief, Jason has a somewhat good level of patience and will endure it, but then you start talking shit.
“Oh, was that important? Looks like you’ll need to start over,” You’ll say after purposely jerking his hand while he was writing notes down on a mission report.
“Oops, looks like you dropped something. You’re so freaking clumsy,” said with a jeering tone after knocking the book Jason was reading out of his hands.
“Aww, is the little baby getting upset? Don’t cry baby, it’ll be okay,” You’ll respond in the most insulting baby voice knowing how much Jason despises it and usually ends up being his last straw.
The vigilante will give a soft shove and a warning look to you and that’s all you need. You’ll start taunting him even more and pushing yourself against him, grabbing at his wrists and arms as he holds you back.
“You feeling tough all of sudden? Am I going to have to mess you up like last time?”
Ding. Ding. Ding.
The next moment, Jason’s patience has officially run out and now, the two of you are rolling around on the bed, couch, and floor trying to pin the other. Well, you’re trying to pin him.
Jason’s just holding you off with ease and letting you slip out of his grabs now and then, letting you think you’ve got a chance. Of course, that leads to more shit-talking.
“Man, what kind of criminals are you fighting? You’re no match for me.”
Of course, as things will go when it comes to wrestling between two males, it eventually gets a little out of hand. You’ll shove Jason too hard, accidentally land a hit on his face or nether region, or you’ll even purposefully try to cheat to which your boyfriend responds by immediately putting you in a submission.
Never anything too rough or painful, just enough to immobilize you until you calm down and stop fighting back. But, even the non-painful ones are a bit much for you since you’re not used to fighting like Jason is, so you’ll typically give in within a few seconds, especially when he puts a little pressure on you and jerks you a bit as payback for all the trash talk.
It doesn’t stop you though, since as soon as you’re both done and back to whatever you were doing, you’ll continue to talk shit at your boyfriend like you had him in submission.
“Hopefully you learned your lesson.”
“We can clearly see who the big guy is in this relationship now. Don’t worry little man, maybe you’ll win again next time.”
“Light work. Maybe we should get you some classes small fry.”
And so much more trash-talking and playful jabs until the next round. But, Jason doesn’t mind. As long as he’s the one getting to put you in a submission at the end, he’ll let you trash-talk him all day, every day.
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☀️ | Jason Todd/Red Hood | ☀️
☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️
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your-eternal-lies · 3 days
Text
_  LEFT HAND GREEN (oneshot)
Main Navigation || Please follow @your-eternal-library for all my fanfiction updates.
PAIRING — Loki x f!Reader SUMMARY — You hadn't planned on spending your Friday night playing a game of Twister chicken with a literal god, but hey—if it gets you to where you need to be...
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WARNINGS — Plot? What plot? This is basically just porn (but with some feelings because, you know, romance). Minors, please do not interact.
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LEFT HAND GREEN
"Didn't you hear me, Agent?" Comes a voice, smooth as silk yet twice as dangerous. "I said, left hand green."
You scowl, making a mental vow to yourself right then and there, that you will never again attend another one of Tony's stupid parties. You are swearing off alcohol. You are swearing off form-fitting dresses that make it hard to breathe. You are swearing off him.
Loki—god of mischief, former alien invader, and current persona non grata—your partner and the bane of your existence. The only reason the two of you have been paired together is because he's already gone through more agents than anyone can count, probably scaring them all off with the mere sounds of his batshit crazy.
Steve and Tony made it clear, while they understood your reluctance, that you should do everything in your power to make sure this partnership worked. They had run out of agents to assign him, and you were the only option left.
His usual Asgardian garb is gone tonight, replaced with the crisp clean lines of a white button-up shirt and dark trousers. His dark curls, usually slicked back with precision, not a single strand out of place, fall loosely around his face.
Maybe it was the bubbles from all that champagne that had you staring at him a little longer than usual. You normally can't stand him, his features laced with the same arrogance that had him playing puppeteer with an entire city. Your city. Despite his joining the Avengers, you haven't forgotten.
Although, you must admit, it's getting harder and harder to remember at this very moment. Especially while the two of you are a mess of tangled limbs, exposed skin, and harsh breathing.
Why did you take your clothes off again?
Oh right, you think as you glance over to where your little black dress lies abandoned on the floor. You were getting too warm from all that alcohol, and the fabric had been too restricting for a game of Twister.
Well, at least you're still wearing underwear.
All that smack talk you two had heatedly exchanged earlier comes back to bite you in the ass. He had declared that this was the most pathetic party he had ever seen. You, while not particularly fond of Tony's too lavish parties to begin with, still felt compelled to defend it out of pure spite and nothing else.
Wanda had brought the damned game, was met with a chorus of protesting groans, and then cast her big green eyes to the floor while mumbling sadly about how she'd never played before. The whole team then reluctantly caved, of course.
But soon, one by one, people decided to call it a night, eventually leaving you and your so-called partner standing before the wrinkled plastic mat, challenging each other to another round because obviously there wasn't even any competition.
He arrogantly proclaimed that victory would be his, by a landslide.
You proudly declared that you were much more flexible.
And now his large body looms over you, all sharp angles and smirks, his hands placed firmly on the mat at either side of you. Meanwhile, you try to maintain your balance, your arms and legs awkwardly bent underneath you... your lace-covered chest thrust up into his face, the warm puffs of his breath dancing across your skin.
"Enjoying the view?" You grit sarcastically, rolling your eyes as he grins down at your heaving breasts. You lift your left hand and try for the closest green circle, huffing in annoyance when it remains just barely out of reach.
"Why, yes," he confesses, his face so close that his lips brush against one of your bra cups. "Midgardian fashion is just so... quaint."
You roll your eyes, not bothering to entertain his response, trying not to focus on the infuriating shape of his mouth, your limbs straining as you try and reach that blasted green circle.
"And obviously you agree, seeing as you couldn't stop staring at me all night."
Now, that makes your ears perk up. "Excuse me? I wasn't—"
"You forget who you're dealing with, dearie," he chuckles, the sound scraping against your every nerve... especially a particularly eager one between your legs. "How do you expect to convince everyone you hate me... when you look at me like that all the time?"
"Like what?"
"Like you want to bury me and consume me all at the same time."
"You are delusional, Laufeyson, as always," you bark, turning your head away so you can't get lost in those dangerous blue eyes. "Focus up; I want to win this damn game already. I'd rather not spend a minute more with you than I have to."
"That's a bit rich, coming from someone who's underneath me whilst half-naked," his lips curve up into a smile, and you can almost feel the movement against your chest. "But I suppose this could serve to... strengthen our partnership."
"A partnership implies equality and trust," you say, your shoulders and thighs starting to ache from trying to maintain your position. "I definitely do not trust you as far as I can throw you, and you obviously don't see me as an equal."
"Says who?" Loki drawls, and the room seems to shrink beneath the weight of his question. "In fact, darling, as much as it pains me to admit, you're the only one around here worth talking to."
"Stop trying to distract me," you mutter, your brow furrowing in concentration. You try not to think about how long it's been since you were this close to a man... you know, when you aren't twisting him into a headlock or kicking the absolute shit out of him.
"Ah, so I distract you?" Again with that smirk. That smirk that makes you painfully aware that he's destructive, pompous, and always so fucking patronizing—exactly your type, apparently, given the way your nipples pebble beneath the lace of your bra.
"I will smack you," you threaten halfheartedly, angling your body slightly to make one last attempt at completing your turn.
"Careful, mortal," the teasing and good humour are gone from his voice now, replaced with something else much more treacherous, "your heart beats too loudly."
"Then stop listening," you grunt, your torso inadvertently sliding along his. You freeze when he hisses, right when you feel your lower abdomen come in contact with his groin.
"Impossible," he groans loudly, his head tossed back and exposing the long white column of his throat. You swallow hard the urge to lean forward and bite him. "Who's distracting who, exactly?"
You gape up at him, frozen, feeling something hard against your hip. "Is that—are you—?"
The shock of it all causes your elbow to give under your own weight, sending you crashing down onto the plastic mat. Loki lowers himself onto you almost immediately, trapping you between him and the floor.
"Looks like you lost," he declares, his large hands already circling your wrists and pinning you to the mat. "Do I get to claim my prize now?"
"We never agreed—" you struggle against him, your voice failing when he leans in close, your noses almost touching.
"Terms can be negotiated, darling," the god whispers, eyes absolutely blazing, flashing with a hint of green that makes your clit throb. "The timing, however, not so much. I'd like to collect now."
All thoughts of distancing yourself evaporate instantly as his mouth crashes onto yours, his hands leaving yours to slide down your arms, finding their way around the band of your bra. He latches onto you like he's starving for whatever you're offering, his tongue dragging across the seam of your lips.
Without thinking, you open for him.
You begin wondering what he is truly the god of, because with each stroke of his tongue, you swear you're being struck by lightning.
God dammit, you're kissing Loki—something your wandering mind had certainly entertained before, but never expected to happen.
And it feels so damn good.
"I see you everywhere I go, Agent," he confesses against your lips, his warmth leaving your skin as he sits back on his haunches, making a show out of unbuttoning his shirt and revealing inch after inch of perfect unblemished skin. He shrugs the garment off, a mesmerizing sight as the delicate material whispers along his sculpted arms and falls to the floor. "I can taste you in the air I breathe."
"Lo..." your voice isn't working, other than to let out a series of whimpers and moans as his hands return. This time, they find their way to your hips, his fingers teasing a path underneath the waistband of your panties and then gently pulling them off.
You clutch the plastic mat underneath you, breath quickening as he lowers his face to your newly exposed sex. The moment his tongue touches your aching clit, stars explode. Loki is relentless in the pursuit of your pleasure, the sounds and vibrations of his groans getting lost inside you as he completely buries his face in the wetness of your desire.
You screech as your hips buck forward, gasping over and over again as he practically tortures you with his tongue. He is not quiet about it either, the room filled with the sounds of his sucking and slurping while the pressure in your belly begins to burn out of control.
But just as you are about to be catapulted over the edge, he releases his hold on your lips and pushes your thighs further apart to make room for him. His hands are a blur of movement at the front of his trousers, the rasp of the zipper so loud in the empty room, before his cock spills out from between the layers of fabric, already rock hard and pointing right at you.
Loki covers you with his warmth immediately, finding his place between your legs and grunting when you wrap them around his hips. His hands squeeze your breasts and lift them higher, enough to take one into his mouth, lace and all.
"Yes!" You cry out as he sucks at you shamelessly, fingers tracing the swell of your tits, swirling his tongue around your sensitive peaks until your bucking against him, trying to relieve the tension between your thighs. His teeth clamps down as one hand snakes down your torso, finding its way to your aching pussy, unceremoniously sliding two fingers deep inside you.
Loki draws back, admiring the bite mark just above the edge of your bra cup, his lips curving up into a satisfied smile.
"Well, aren't you a vision?" He growls as his fingers move faster inside you, the heel of his palm rubbing against your swollen clit. His erection grazes your thigh, twitching as if begging for attention, but Loki seems unbothered as his eyes darken just a shade. "Beg me."
"Ugh," this son of a bitch; you would slap him if you weren't so desperate to come. "Fuck you!"
"Not quite what I was looking for," he murmurs as he removes his fingers from your hole. He replaces them with the swollen head of his cock, teasing your entrance with maddeningly slow circles.
"Loki," you threaten, the tone of your voice leaving nothing up for debate, but that was all it took. Hearing his name like that goes straight to his hips, them punching forward almost as soon as you said it, sheathing himself inside you with one smooth thrust.
His own breathing becomes laboured as he keeps the pace brisk, unable to help pushing in and out of you, relishing the way your muscles clenched and trembled as you fully embraced his hard length.
"I tell myself I still yearn for Asgard's throne," he manages between thrusts, voice barely above a whisper as he continues to fuck you into the mat, his hips smacking into the back of your thighs. "That this pitiful planet is nothing more than a chessboard, a stepping stone towards my glorious purpose."
Your fingers wind themselves into his hair, your bodies reacting to each other more fervently with each passing second. Despite yourself, you tilt your chin up as if to silently beg for another kiss, the faintest whine escaping your throat when he doesn't oblige.
"But somewhere between your infuriating presence," he grunts, punctuating his words with a particularly brutal thrust, drawing another pleasured cry from your lips. "And the chaos of this world, I find myself torn... between the call of power and the unexpected allure of something far more perilous."
You want to say something back, but he fucks you so deep it's like you can feel him right up against your throat. All you can do is hold onto him, gasping for breath, hanging on for dear life.
"Feelings. Sentiment. For you." He spits out the words like they're foreign, distasteful even, his hips keeping up their cruel punishment, but his eyes are almost kind when they find yours. His lips hover just a hair's breadth from yours, teasing and tantalizing as his body invades you over and over again.
His confession hangs heavy in the air, charged with a cocktail of what looks like regret and a vulnerability you never expected to witness from him. You feel your walls of defence crack, just a hairline fracture, but allowing more than enough room for him to slip through.
"You say I distract you?" He thrusts harder, the tip of his cock finding a spot inside you that makes you let go of the last tiny string holding any remnants of your composure together. Stars explode behind your eyes as you squeeze them closed, the plastic mat sticking to your sweaty back as you arch up into your orgasm.
You feel Loki lean forward and bite your shoulder, grunting as he fucks you through your climax, a few more thrusts before he himself tenses inside you. His hold on you softens, his teeth retreating and replaced with the soft cushioning of his lips, all the while his hips jerk again and again as he spills hot rushes of fluid into you.
You lay exhausted on the floor, sweaty and dishevelled and wrapped in a tarp of colourful circles and still joined together. You close your eyes, trying to catch your breath as Loki slowly and carefully wraps his arms around you, but doesn't remove himself from the warmth of your body.
"My dear, you're the one who won't leave me be."
Fin.
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NOTES — Well then. I am definitely not going to church this morning 👀
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stxrvel · 1 day
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the routine (4)
heeeey guys. this is a short one but i wanted to share something with you, since it's been a while! it's getting harder to write, but i found some peace of mind today so i wanted to give you this. hope u like this! love u all and hopefully see u next time. i promise it's gonna get better, just give me some time :(.
summary: trying to settle into life after what happened has proven to be just as difficult for both you and Azriel… pairing: azriel x fem!reader words: 1.5k warnings: still just angst.
part 1: the cliff
part 2: the house
part 3: the court
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There was something bittersweet hanging around your house since that argument with your parents. It had been a week since you had returned and, sadly, things didn't feel as good as they used to. You didn't expect you all to be exactly the same either, you and your parents had been through specific times that wouldn't allow them to ever be the same again, especially when they were so reluctant for you to return to the Night Court. Even you didn't know if you would be completely ready to do so in the near future.
One good thing was that, during those days, you had learned to manage your emotions to keep them from running strongly through the bond you shared with Azriel so as not to overwhelm him. Perhaps it was the only thing that had distracted you during that time from rethinking what had happened, even more than your parents' attempts at conversation.
There was also the matter of the shadows. You knew they were Azriel's, you thought they belonged to him, but some of them were constantly accompanying you, and they got scares out of your father from time to time.
Going back to your parents was supposed to bring you peace, but you felt calmer every time you looked at the tattoo running down your arm and the promise Azriel had made to you with crystallized eyes.
“I hear your thoughts all the way over here, you know?”
You lifted your head, blinking faster. The wind caressed your cheeks and moved your loose hair, for a moment forgetting where you were. Shadows gathered around your feet.
“I'm sorry, did you say something?”
Alya had a posture with her arms up, sending you a curious look. Your childhood friend barely needed to hear the tones in your voice to know when you were lying, but she seemed to want to let it go that time. The people around you didn't seem to know how to deal with the conversations when word got out that you were back, but Alya had a talent for knowing when to touch on topics and when not to.
“Several things,” her body moved toward the fruit baskets, taking the last basket in her arms and starting to walk in the opposite direction. “My brother got married.”
“Really?”
“And he has children.”
“Really?”
“Twins.”
You let out a laugh, remembering Alya's rebellious older brother. Your visits to her house were always accompanied by the constant whining and fighting between Trav and his parents because he didn't want to start a family in the near or distant future. He was so insistent about it, even though it was the only thing his parents wanted. According to Alya's accounts, it was impossible for him not to start imagining that future when he met his mate.
“What about you?”
“Ah, no, please, no. There is nothing interesting to tell about my life. I assure you that Mrs. Taylors had a more exciting life for the past few years than I have,” Alya and you arrived at her mother's fruit stand, where she dropped the last basket of goods you had helped her move all morning. You marched beside her, detailing the look of nonchalance she was trying so hard to maintain.
“It couldn't have just not happened. It was… too many years,” despite the boastfulness with which you wanted to carry the conversation, your voice reached to cut off finishing the sentence. Alya turned to look at you, her worried eyes analyzing your face before grabbing your wrist and walking away from the fruit stand.
“You know you don't have to pretend around me, right?”
Alya closed the door to her house behind her. Her family had gotten a very homey house right in the heart of the city's commerce and they kept their very well kept stall right in front of it. Every corner of the place felt like a home because of the great dedication and love her whole family put into it. Even when her brother was missing, it seemed that the house had not lost any strength or presence.
Maybe that's why you felt a wave of longing and nostalgia hit your body, leaving you more vulnerable than you had been the last few days.
“Living with my parents hasn't been so great,” you began, lowering your gaze with a frown. Alya had moved into the kitchen and you had happily settled down on the counter right in front of the stove. Your hands in front of you on the white ceramic were moving nervously, interlocking and clattering your nails on the hard material. “After so long I thought that… I thought that nothing would change when I came back. I thought we'd be even closer together than before, I even thought we'd sleep together. I spent so many nights… alone and so cold. I couldn't bear the thought of going back and having to go through that kind of torturous loneliness again.”
Alya moved in front of you, setting aside the tea brewing to clasp her hands in yours, still twitching in nervousness and anxiety. Her expression was no longer one of dread as she noticed shadows moving around you.
“Is it because of him?”
You nodded, and acknowledging it once again was no less painful.
“It's illogical, I think,” Alya rested her arms on the ceramic, frowning slightly. The warmth of her hands, even though it wasn't a bit chilly in her house, brought you just enough coziness to try to soothe your heart. It reminded you of that moment at the border of Court Day next to Azriel. “After so long without seeing you, why not take advantage of the indefinite time you'll be with them? They stress too much about something that could happen in two decades, even.”
“I've tried to tell them, but I don't think they'll be happy until I tell them I'm not coming back.”
“What about him?” Alya cocked her head to one side, and at your confused look added, “He wouldn't be willing to come?”
“What? No. I couldn't even suggest it to him,” you shook your head as soon as the words left her mouth.
“Why not?”
“His whole life is in that court, Alya. Asking him to give it all up for me just because I wouldn't be willing to do it for him, wouldn't that be too selfish?”
“You must keep in mind that you've been through special circumstances. If he really feels a quarter of the bond love, then he won't mind giving up everything for you.��
“I don't want to talk about this anymore. The tea is going to dry up.”
Alya shifted letting out a gasp of surprise.
“Fine. But you have to keep in mind that it's not just about you now. You're not alone anymore. You don't have to make decisions for him or stop making them because it's not just your feelings you have to be careful with.”
-
Azriel still didn't understand how Mor had convinced Tarquin and Rhysand to meet for that reunion on the day you finally returned home, but he was immensely grateful that she had been able to negotiate the terms down to the last instance. The same thing he would've done.
“Are you ever going to see him again?”
“Not as long as I live.”
The aforesaid appeared at the training camp when Azriel was taking some time away from the crowd of people living in the Town House. He would never have believed that he would rather strain his body until he passed out just so he wouldn't have to meet Rhysand's or Cassian's face at every corner. The blood in his veins burned as if it had poison in it, one step away from starting to spit in their directions as if they were the only ones to blame for everything that had happened.
As if he needed to find a culprit for your departure.
But there was no one to blame. It had been your decision. And every day since then Azriel's sentence became significantly larger and more tedious to carry. The worst part was not even knowing when that ordeal would end. Living with that bitterness in his heart and that emptiness in his soul, he didn't believe there could ever be peace in his relationship with his brothers. No one in the house overlooked that.
"She's fine," Mor changed the subject abruptly, knowing exactly how to appease the flame of his anger.
Azriel nearly melted with his forehead against the punching bag. His shoulders slumped in momentary relaxation, the only relaxation he'd allowed himself to have since you'd left.
“You saw her?”
“Yes, she was spending time with her friends. She was smiling. Laughing. She looked happy.”
Azriel had to fight the whine that wanted to escape his lips. He shook his head in assent, trying to keep the emotions at bay, sending a silent thank you through the masses of air. He felt his heart squeezed inside his chest. Every day was a constant uncertainty because he couldn't even feel her anymore…
Mor had to travel weekly to Summer because one of the terms of their agreement with Tarquin required it and for the last three weeks all Azriel had been waiting for was news about you, to know that you were well, that you looked well, that you were really happy there, at home… away from him.
“You know that doesn't imply that she wants to forget you, right?”
The mere implication made his head fall back on the sack. Azriel tried to nod, feeling the words and his own emotions choking him. His body would become an inert object at some point, that much he knew, because he couldn't spend too long living like this. He couldn't even imagine it, if he was just beginning the period that could last for years, even centuries for all he knew.
“I know…” his voice came out choked, almost mistaken for a sigh. “I know.”
He repeated again to himself.
Azriel dreaded knowing how things were going to be from now on.
-
taglist: @isa1b2h3 @naturakaashi @anuttellaa @tele86 @amysangel @fxckmiup @inloveallthetime @fightmedraco @railingsofsorrow @fandomarchiveilyd
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star-hoon · 2 days
Text
OBSESSED (p. sunghoon)
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I’M SO OBSESSED WITH YOUR EX
(based on the song obsessed by olivia rodrigo, but through the pov of crushing on your best friend’s ex)
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pairing: sunghoon x fem reader
includes/warnings (16+): best friend’s ex! au, reader and hoon smokes (pls be safe lol), suggestive material, angst, profanity, smoking/drinking, pda (let me know if i missed anything!)
word count: 2.3k+
synopsis: you and your best friend were as close as friends could be, never keeping secrets from each other. you told each other everything—including exes and past relationship horror stories. but you’ve never seen or met her ex, park sunghoon. but in bullet points you did know him; his blood type, his star sign, heard about how handsome he is, and the way he’d kiss…all through your best friend’s ramblings.
after all three of you end up at the same party a year after they broke up, can things remain the same?
— PART 2: IN PROGRESS ᝰ.ᐟ
OBSESSED SOUNDTRACK
"i fantasize about it all the time if you were mine..."
you hummed along to ariana grande playing in your headphones as you headed to your favorite coffee shop.
as you approached the front of the cafe, you couldn't help but notice a girl sitting alone with tear stained cheeks. you removed your headphones and could hear her sniffling. seeing the handful of used tissues was not a subtlety to her crying.
you didn't want to intrude considering she was a stranger, but you could sense she was there alone and looked like she needed someone to check on her. hesitantly, you approached waved your hand in her eye-line as if you were approaching a bunny and trying not to scare it.
"hi, i'm so sorry if i'm intruding or disturbing you. but i was wondering if you're okay?" your tone soft and eyes naturally falling on her smudged mascara.
once she composed her sniffles and cleared her throat she replied, "thank you...that's very nice of you. i-i'm fine..." the latter half of her was more of statement of convincing herself. despite the tears still brimming her lash line, she smiled.
"i'm fine" she repeats wiping under her eyes. "my boyfriend and i just broke up and this was the closest place to my apartment. just wanted to get out and get some fresh air you know?"
"i'm sorry to hear that. screw him, you probably deserve better anyways" you tease trying to lighten the mood.
"do you mind if i sit? i'm y/n by the way" you pointed toward the chair across from her at the table. she nodded with a with a shy smile. "i'm sage"
"nice to meet you, can i buy you a coffee?"
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it's been a year since you and sage met. since then you have become best friends and inseparable. because you two live basically across the city from each other and both worked, it was hard to find time to see each other from day to day. so weekends and your guys' friday sleepovers were precious to you.
sage poured each of you a shot of soju as you took the takeout boxes out of the plastics bags, spreading them out across the dinner table.
as the clear liquid in the soju bottle slowly decreased as the night went on, the volume of your guys' laughter echoed louder throughout her apartment. you and sage were swiping through screenshots of terrible dating app conversations together, cringing at what guys have said to you both.
"oh god...looking at all of these terrible dudes makesme missss sunghoon" sage slurring her words as her sentence tapered off.
you almost choked as you weren't sure if you heard her correctly. "i'm sorry did you say you miss sunghoon?!" your eyes nearly popped out of your head.
sage never was one to handle her alcohol well.
"c'mon y/n, i'm just kidding. well sorta..." you shot her a look of 'elaborate what 'sorta' means in this situation'.
"i don't actually miss him of course. we broke up over a year ago! so i'm way over it. and i think sunghoon and i broke up for the better. i'm just saying seeing all these gross guys is just making me reminisce about a relationship that was good while it lasted you know?"
you giggled and let out a hum of acknowledgement.
"but i will say..." sage's eyes filled with mischief as her lips upturned into a smirk. "sunghoon was suuuuuch a good kisser though. he's definitely the hottest guy i've dated."
her cheeks no longer only flushed from the alcohol. she continued to ramble on about sunghoon and leaving you with a bullet point list of useless facts about sunghoon: his favorite color, his blood type, his astrology sign, his love of ice skating, and *other* details of their private life that you didn't ask to know about but were forced to hear anyways.
eventually you decided the night was coming to close as your wobbly guided sage by her shoulders to her side of the bed, laughing at her useless mumbling. you pulled the covers over her shoulder as she snuggled closer to her pillow.
you made your way to the bathroom to get ready for bed. as you stared back at yourself in the mirror you couldn't help but find the situation funny.
you knew what the textbook definition of 'park sunghoon' was but you've never met him, you don't even know what he looks like.
because why would you, right?
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the next day (saturday)
"hey, you remember my friend jake right? he invited us to his party tonight"
"australian one, looks like a golden retriever?"
"bingo"
you didn't say much after that. you weren't much of party person. you weren't quite the social butterfly like sage. it always felt like you were just the 'quiet best friend' to your much more interesting counterpart.
sage always reassured you that wasn't true. she would always say anyone who didn't like you was the lame one.
"c'mon y/nnn please?...it'll be fun i promise. jake always throws the best parties" she gave you her best attempt at puppy eyes. "i know you don't love parties but its an excuse to put on a cute outfit at least."
you rolled your eyes with a smile at her ridiculous yet infallible girl-logic. she always knew you liked putting on a cute outfit and taking pictures more than actually going out.
"fineee....!" you replied.
"yay!!! we're gonna have fun tonight y/n trust, do you think jake's gonna invite any hot friends?"
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"too bad your ex don't do it for ya,
walked in and dream came trued it for ya..."
you and sage were having your own personal world tour in your bathroom scream-singing to sabrina carpenter. her hairbrush and your makeup brush each being your respective microphones.
after spending way too much time getting ready and taking photos together, you two were finally ready to head to jake's house.
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you and sage stepped out of the car, already hearing the heavy bass booming from the house.
sage linked her arm with yours as you guys approached the front door. a chill went up your spine and it wasn't from the night air.
it's just a party. what's the worst that can happen right?
you stepped into the house and naturally it felt as if everyone already knew sage, greeting her with the usual "sage!! omg you're finally here!" and her having to introduce you as you give shy, awkward smiles.
"y/n!!" you whipped your head around because someone (that wasn't sage) was calling your name.
"yooo let's gaurrr! y/n! i'm so glad you could make it, i didn't think you would!" jake greeted you with that ever-charming smile of his and pulled you in for a hug.
"hi jake! thanks so much for inviting me, this party is no joke" you nodded and glanced around at his impressive DJ set up and lights.
"what can i say? i play hard" he shrugs and flirtatiously bites his lip. as you were about to respond, one of his friends calls for him from across the room.
"i'm so sorry my boy over there needs me but there are drinks in the kitchen and the bathroom is the last door down the hall, have fun!" he shouts over the loud music as he makes his way through the crowd of people.
you were left alone and sage was god-knows where. you made your way to the kitchen to get a drink and after some failed attempts of finding your best friend, you made your way to the backyard.
the cold night breeze was refreshing to breath in as you stood at a wall near the pool. you reached into your bag and pulled out a cigarette and lighter.
you cupped your hands around the cigarette in your mouth, trying to get the last bit of juice from your almost-dead lighter. so concentrated on clicking the lighter, you barely noticed the figure that approached you.
it wasn't until a flame hovered around the outside of your hand did you look up. all you could do was stare back at the stranger in silence for what felt like forever. he was the most handsome guy you had ever seen.
he wore a vintage denim jacket that complimented his tall frame perfectly. his beautiful pale skin was perfectly illuminated with the lights coming from the porch, contrasting his slightly messy dark hair. everything about him exuded a cool and mysterious aura. he smirked and quirked his thick eyebrows at you. he truly looked like a prince.
you dropped your hands as you moved your cigarette to the flame of his lighter. as the tip of your cigarette was engulfed in the flame, you could feel his intense gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips.
once your cigarette was lit, you pulled away and stared into his eyes. inhaling and exhaling the smoke along with a shy "thanks".
"any time" he responded, his pointed canines peeking out as he spoke.
"that's a sick lighter, by the way"
"oh yeah? thanks it's vintage from japan..." your compliment suddenly making him seem shy. you smiled at his suddenly adorable expression.
"...i feel like other people don't really get to see it because no one i really know smokes" he continued.
"oh? so i'm not 'other people'? wow i must special" you give a sarcastic shocked/proud expression while batting your lashes at him. the mix of alcohol and nicotine suddenly hitting, making you bolder than usual it seemed.
"yeah, you could say that" he chuckled and bit his lip, eyeing you up and down. he took in your all-black outfit, your mini skirt and cropped tank top not leaving much to his imagination. you were cutest girl in this whole damn party.
touché, two can play that game.
"can i actually have a cig? must've dropped my pack on the way here" you nodded and put your cig in your mouth free up your hands, reaching for your purse.
before you could do anything else, he leaned in closer to you and extended his left arm next to your head, caging you in to the wall you were leaning against. he gently pulled the cigarette from your mouth drawing a puff for himself. you didn't miss the way he licked the hint of your lipgloss from his lips that was on mouth of the cigarette.
god damn...can this guy be any hotter?
the smell of smoke and his clean cologne filled your lungs, intoxicating you with nothing but lust. "thanks" he replied with a wink, handing the cigarette back to you.
"so, what's a cute little thing like you doing out here all by yourself hm? i figured you'd be in there with every guy all over you" nodding towards the house behind you.
you almost forgot about the party completely. this handsome stranger totally consumed your whole mind in the span of minutes. you stared down at the buttons on his jacket, flashing a coy smile with a faint laugh.
"parties aren't really my thing, and trust me guys usually don't even notice me. my best friend dragged me here and she kinda just left me in there. she's probably the one with guys all over her right now" you cringed at yourself, letting your self-deprecating humor slip.
"i should thank her then: she brought you here and i get you all to myself."
your gaze went down to his lips, they were just asking to be kissed at this point. he leaned in even closer, you could feel his breath against your face.
"fuck, can i please kiss you?" his pupils were blown out waiting for your response.
you closed the gap between you two, dropping the butt of the now finished cigarette on the ground next to you.
he sighed into the kiss, right hand landing on your waist. your hands went up to the nape of his neck softly tugging on his dark strands.
he deepend the kiss pressing you flush against the wall, one hand cupping your face and the other touching the small of your back. fingertips against exposed skin between your skirt and top pushing you into him. his touch made your skin feel like it was on fire. you parted your lips slightly, giving him the perfect opportunity slip his tongue into your mouth.
the kiss tasted like mint, smoke, and the slightest hint of whatever fruity alcohol you guys consumed. it was so hot and you couldn't get enough.
his lips moved to pepper soft kisses down your jaw and gradually biting and licking on your neck. he bit on the sensitive part of your neck leaving love bites behind, his pointed teeth scraping your skin causing you to let out a soft whine.
he inhaled your sweet perfume, the smell fueling his lust even further. "fuck you're driving me crazy princess" he groaned lowly in your ear.
the pet name turning you into a whimpering mess, trying not to be too loud considering you two were still in public was damn was he making it difficult. his hand grazed your outer thigh, riding up slightly under your skirt as slotted his thigh between your legs.
you began to grind into him letting out a weak "please..." you begged grabbing onto the collar of his jacket and the back of his neck. you didn't quite know what you were begging for, but you just knew you needed him in every sense of the word.
he looked down at where your body met his thigh, grinding helplessly against him. "i know baby...such a good girl for me". in between kisses, he whispered all of the dirty things he wanted to do to you.
"can we go back to your place?...let's get out of here" you panted desperately trying to catch your breath for intense kiss. he nodded with a cheeky grin.
"wait, what's your name? I'm y/n." you both laughing into one another that you didn't even ask each other's name until now.
"i'm-"
"SUNGHOON?!" both you and the raven haired boy whipped your heads in direction of his name that didn't even get the chance to leave his lips.
holy. fuck. it was sage.
and you just made out with sunghoon.
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“i’m so obsessed with your ex, i know [he's] been asleep on my side of your bed"
PART 2?
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taglist: @yeonzzzn @gyuoonz @woniebae @dimplewonie @gudkc
author's note: HOLYSHIT my first work! i really hoped this lived up to the expectations to the people who wanted this fic ;-; lmk if you guys want part 2 hehe
ahh i was lowkey so nervous bc i have no idea if my writing is good (like at all) and so many things changed with what was in my mind vs. when i actually started writing but i'm looking forward to creating even better stories, and get even better at writing!
thank you so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed it, please let me know what you think <3
reblogs, likes, & comments are always appreciated!!
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wildestdreamsblog · 16 hours
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Latibule Spinoff: Elysian
Pairing: Doctor/Mafia!Kim Seokjin x Intern!Reader 
Warnings: Yandere behavior, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.
A/N: if this ain't the most unserious hiatus ever XD
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Masterlist, Part IV of __
“If you know in one glimpse it’s legendary…what we thought was for all time was momentary…”
You tilted your head to the side as you watched the young man mumbled the lyrics to a song, his head resting on his forearm on the table. He was holding the glass of soju on his other. His voice had a certain melodic tone in it, and you were certain that he could be a singer had he wanted to. But now, he was a man that was too drunk to sit straight.
“Still alive killing time at the cemetery. Never quite buried…”
You blinked from your seat across him before turning to the doctor beside you who was busy grilling meat. Kim Seokjin appeared to not be bothered by how his brother was acting, only flashing you a smile when he saw you looking at him. He added another one on the pile of grilled meat he kept on placing on your plate. Meanwhile, Jungkook’s was almost gone and Seokjin still prioritized your plate over his.
You leaned closer, your voice barely a whisper amidst the din of the restaurant. "Is he going to be okay?" you asked, your gaze never leaving Jungkook's slouched form as he continued to sing. The noise inside the tented restaurant made it harder for him to hear you. It was like he wasn’t thinking too hard for the first time since you came barging in his life as he leaned down his head to hear you, his ear almost touching your lips from his proximity.
This seemed right, he thought, to be near you. It was like he was finally following his urges, letting his control slip for just a little for you.
And for the second time that night, your heart beat so loud it was a miracle that he couldn’t hear it, or that you didn’t go into cardiac arrest.
“Hmm?”
You cleared your throat before repeating your question. “He’s singing Taylor Swift’s new song. The album only came out this morning and it seems like he already memorized it…Is he okay?”
Seokjin looked up to watch his brokenhearted brother who was now unstealthily stealing meat from your plate, unaware of both your eyes on him. “Talking rings and talking cradles………I wish I could unrecall-“
Jungkook sniffed before eating the meat. It would have been hilarious to watch the tears falling from his eyes as he chewed, except that he looked like a child that was abandoned by the way his lips were pouted. The tattoos and the lip piercing did nothing to make him less endearing. You thought he was really just a charming person. But now he was just sad, as though he lost something he could never get back.
“-how we almost had it all.”
And then cue the endless tears.
Seokjin sighed, his eyes trained on the younger man he claimed to have raised on his own since he was thirteen. It was rare to see him cry. He always toughed it out, always had this innate need to prove himself to his older brothers despite the repeated assurance they gave him that they were tough so he wouldn’t need to. But he was stubborn. And in turn, he became a hardened man, a no-nonsense CEO and a violent leader of the underworld.
Well, until he married her. Suddenly, the sun seemed to have finally shone on his world. Seokjin could remember how happy and giddy Jungkook looked when he put the ring on her finger. He could remember how excited he was to come home to her everyday, even going as far as telling them how wonderful she was, or that cute thing she did for him, or how her cooking was the best he ever had.
Spoiler alert, though, she was the worst cook. She didn’t know that there was a distinct difference between a sugar and a salt, and no, just because they looked the same didn’t mean that they tasted the same.
See what love did to Jeon Jungkook, the pickiest person when it came to food?
Well, until she left.
“It’s not his birthday today,” Seokjin finally answered. “And eat. You’re far too thin.”
“Excuse me! I’m not!”
“Uhuh,” he said as he rolled his eyes. “Are you even eating three times a day?”
“Wh- well. N-no! Who has the time?” you sputtered, cheeks warming up from the attention you were getting from him.
He raised his brows at that before pointedly looking at your plate, making a mental note to ensure that your schedule from now on wouldn’t be so tight that you forgot to eat. Or better yet, he would personally visit the head of your department to berate him for not ensuring your well-being!
“And what do you mean that it’s not his birthday?”
 “It’s his wedding anniversary today.”
Huh? Your eyes automatically went to his ring finger, only to find a tattoo that you didn’t notice before. It was a name. You thought that he must have been so in love to have permanently etched his wife’s name on his skin. However, another question popped in your mind.
“Then why is he here instead of with her?”
“She left her more than a year ago. He doesn’t know where she is right now.”
Your heart went out to the young man. He seemed to be so heartbroken evident from his tears and the sadness in his doe eyes. He was too young to be this sad, you thought. Seokjin’s eyes were on you as you looked at Jungkook. You were so soft, he thought. You wore your emotions on your sleeves, genuine concern etched on your face and he couldn’t help but marvel at your capacity for compassion despite only meeting him today.
“That’s so sad. No wonder he’s crying his heart out,” you mumbled, reaching out to pat the younger man’s broad back in display of silent support. “I don’t know how anyone can carry it.”
He nodded, “I don’t think I’ll ever have to know.”
You blinked owlishly at his statement. And when you turned to him, his eyes were dark. He was now looking at the glass of soju, twirling the liquid contents slowly.
“Why?” you asked what you shouldn’t have.
He smirked before drinking. His movements were languid before turning his dark and cold eyes to you. “Because, sunshine, I don’t think I have it in me to allow my wife to leave me.”
That should have been your first warning.
And to Kim Seokjin, that was his first warning to himself.
---
He didn’t avoid you. No.
But for the following week, he was distant. He smiled at you when he saw you, but other than that, he did not engage. He greeted you when you greeted him, but other than that, he claimed to have an urgent appointment every time.
See, one step forward was two steps backward when it came to him, you thought. And perhaps, it was for the better. Had this progressed beyond a harmless crush, you would have been hurt. You would only bring him down with you. So for the next days, you threw yourself at work, saying yes to whatever assistance your colleagues needed, even going as far as offering your help to their research.
What? It was an overtime which equated to overtime pay!
That was what you reasoned to yourself, and nope, it was not because you were avoiding excess time to think about that handsome doctor.
Perhaps, what deviated in your work was the amount of free meals the department was getting. It even came to the point was when you didn’t go out of the office for lunch, the department head himself went in and demanded you to eat. You were confused as you followed him out and wondered why he looked a bit terrified. Other than that, you week was calm.
This was good, you convinced yourself as you waited in line for your turn to order, less time with him meant that whatever crush you had for him would die a natural death. You certainly weren’t hurt that your last interaction meant nothing to him when he claimed to have wanted you there with him. You nodded to yourself as you thought that Seokjin looked like a walking heartbreak just waiting to happen.
“Come on, just admit you like her! Why else would you reallocate the budget to cater the food for their department?!”
Seokjin rolled his eyes at his Doctor Seong-min and his obnoxious voice. The two doctors decided to step out for the afternoon to grab a decent coffee. He shifted impatiently in line, silently willing the people ahead him to order faster so he could physically separate himself from his colleague and escape the conversation. He had yet to forgive him for almost getting the coffee his sunshine got for him.
Wait, what?!
His?
See, this was why he needed coffee!
“I heard our branch in the far province desperately needs a resident surgeon. Maybe you want to transfer there?” he asked quietly, the tone of threat not even hidden as he smiled at the man. The mention of transferring to a far-flung province was a thinly veiled threat, one that Seong-min knew Seokjin was all too capable of carrying out if pushed far enough.
“Damn, dude. Chill. If you don’t like her, just say so. I’m just 307% sure that you do-“
“We can’t have doctors that are bad at math! What do you mean 307%?!-“
“Oh, is it 400% now?” he blinked innocently at the man who was berating him, his voice increasing and his ears reddening from his emotions. It was fun to see him like this, Seong-min noted. He was always calm and collected even in the face of emergencies. Seokjin seemed to always know what to do in every situation, and now, one mention of your name and he became like this.
With a forced smile, Seokjin turned to face Seong-min, his voice low and tinged with frustration. "I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered, though the denial rang hollow even to his own ears.
Seong-min merely chuckled, unfazed by Seokjin's attempt at deflection. "Come on, Jin. It's written all over your face," he teased, leaning in closer as if sharing a secret. "You can't fool me.”
He glared at him and Seong-min felt a shiver down his spine as though he was facing a dangerous person and not the peace-loving and hardworking doctor he knew since they were in university. “Fine! I just asked because my friend saw Doctor Y/N and asked me to set her up with him! I was just being a good friend to you-“
What?
See, the mention of another man was what finally pushed him to the very edge and he could feel the fragile sanity of his breaking. However, what he didn’t expect from his genius brain was stupidity.
“Seong-min, are you even using your brain? Why would I, the perfect and genius Doctor Kim Seokjin, ever like someone as bland as her? I have taste. And she could never reach my taste in women. She’s not the same stature as me. She’s so far below me that it’s embarrassing to even insinuate that I feel something for her. Besides, I only entertain her because she’s funny-“
Seong-min’s eyes went in front as the line moved, and it was because of you.
With the steaming cup of hot coffee in your hand, you turned to them. You didn’t say anything. You just watched as Seokjin continued his tirade, completely unaware of your presence, adding lashes to your heart and ego.
God, you were so embarrassed. How could you have thought that he was anything but a rich man who looked down at people beneath him? How could he hurt you where it hurts?
“Honestly, the least she could do is to move faraway from me. She’s nothing-“
It was only when Seong-min pushed his shoulder that he finally noticed you and your tear-filled eyes. He blinked repeatedly as though he was just starting to understand of your presence here, that you were not just a figment of his worst nightmare came to life.
He called for you.
He knew he did.
But instead, you stalked away from him as you tried to salvage whatever was left of your dignity.
“Seriously, Seokjin, you’re an idiot,” Seong-min said, shaking his head in disdain. Seokjin had no choice but to agree.
He was the biggest idiot.
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seresinhangmanjake · 10 hours
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Simon "Ghost" Riley is afraid to propose to his girlfriend (reader)
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notes/warnings: fluff, angsty-ish, cursing, typos i'm sure (i wrote it in like an hr and then lost all energy to closely proofread. sorry)
words: 1367
Simon Riley Masterlist
Forty-Two months. You’ve been together for forty-two months, and Simon Riley is no fool. He knows what he has. Through every imaginable horror, you’ve been by his side. You’ve held his hand, kissed his forehead, brushed your fingers through his hair, let him lay on top of you after a night of sex when he’d just needed to feel you and know that you’re with him. You’ve cried with him and for him. And when it’s asked of you, you’ve waited for him. 
You’re absolutely everything. Of perfect quality despite your flaws. A reminder that things in this world are soft, beautiful, gentle. When he loses faith in the concepts of decency and humanity because of the things he’s seen, you refuel what has been depleted. You make things make sense in a cruel existence. And yet, he hasn’t asked you to marry him. 
Ok, maybe he is a bit of a fool.
For forty-two months you’ve watched your friends get married, cousins and second cousins, and even your mother and your aunt—all of whom began relationships with their new spouses long after you and Simon declared yourselves officially together. You’ve taken Simon to so many weddings in the past three and a half years that you’d both agreed you’d had your fill. But Simon is under no illusions that if it were for you and him, you’d manage to find the energy for one more wedding. 
You don’t pressure him or drop painfully obvious hints, and if he’s honest, that almost makes it worse. Price and Gaz and even Johnny have faced threats of their own in the past by the women they’ve been with, with varying results. Price was happy to agree. Gaz a little less, but his lady was pregnant and it was the right thing to do. But Johnny…Johnny wouldn’t marry his current broad if it meant a quick death. You, though, are a gift. Better than all of them in Simon’s eyes. You deserve to have the man who loves you acknowledge that love by asking you to be his wife. Simon just can’t bring himself to ensure that that man is him.
He attributes that roadblock to your relationship not being equal. He doesn’t provide you with everything you provide him. While he does his best to be supportive and loving and comforting, you’ve mastered those skills and he can’t compete. And how is it fair to ask you to pull that weight for the rest of your lives?
It doesn’t stop him from wanting to ask, but when the question is on his tongue, he can’t get it out. However, because you’re stronger than him, more open and sure of what you want, it turns out he doesn’t have to.
“Simon, will you marry me?”
You’re not looking at him. You’ve been spooning on the couch for the last three hours watching mindless TV, and he’s refused to let you up from your spot. At the question, his hand under your shirt that has been lazily fondling your breast freezes. He’s half hard and was about thirty seconds from trailing that hand down your body and into your sleep shorts, but now he can’t. 
Simon swallows. “W-What?” he asks, though he absolutely heard you. Does anyone mistake those words for anything other than what they are? 
His pounding heart clogs his ears, but to his surprise, his cock gets a little harder. 
After too many beats of silence, you guide his hand out of your shirt, and with a sigh, you stand, round the couch, and go into the bedroom. In your absence, he sits up, running a hand through his hair and blowing out a breath. 
What just happened? He thinks. And what the fuck did he just do? He didn’t answer the way he should have and now you’re gone. He’s hurt you, and he’s so focused on his fuck up that he doesn’t notice you come back until you’re standing directly in front of him. 
A black band is trapped between your thumb and index finger. You’re not smiling. There’s no glimmer in your eye. You simply hold the ring, staring at it. 
“I just want to marry you,” you say, your voice dripping with the disappointment he knows you’re expecting. “And you haven’t asked me.” 
“Love–” he starts, but then you drop to your knees, calves folded under your thighs. 
His heart cracks right down the middle, jagged and splintered. A few pieces fall into his gut. You still won’t look at him, so he reaches out a hand, cups your cheek, and turns your face up to his. 
“You don’ kneel to me, Love,” he tells you, his thumb stroking your cheekbone.
Half-heartedly chuckling, you say, “Sometimes I do.”
Simon lets his lips curl into a slight smile because his girl is still in there. Despite the forlorn look on your face, he didn’t completely break your spirit with one unanswered question. And thank fuck for that.  
He doesn’t mean to, but he forces you to sit in limbo as he thinks. The woman he loves is on her knees asking for something that she so evidently believes she isn’t going to get. And yet, it’s from that risk—that display of your love for him and the leap you’re willing to take to prove it—that Simon snaps out of every negative thought that has held him back. 
Hand dropping from your face, he rises from the couch and, just as you had, makes his way into the bedroom. He has no idea where you’d hidden his, but yours has been in a dresser drawer for nearly a year, tucked behind the socks that are never worn because he has too many pairs. 
When he returns, he stops dead in his tracks because you’re still sitting there but your head is down again and a teardrop falls onto your bare thigh as you fiddle with the ring, and that is unacceptable; his behavior is unacceptable. And now he’s more sure than ever. 
Simon discards the box and goes to sit back on the couch. Your embarrassment is palpable, and he hates himself for yanking that out of you. Shame is the last thing he has ever wanted you to feel in his presence. 
Ring between his fingers, Simon lowers his hand until he’s sure the diamond is within your line of sight. 
Your gasp is faint but he catches it—a master at catching every little sound you make and savoring his ability to have you make them. Your head shoots up, eyes wide as they connect with his. 
With his free hand, Simon brushes away the tears that have yet to fall from your cheeks. 
“Switch,” he says. 
“What?”
He takes your hand, pulling you with him as he rises to his feet, and turns your bodies. “Sit,” he says, and you do. Then he eases onto one knee, ignoring the crack of his bones, and holds out the ring. “I’m so sorry it came to this, Love. I didn’—” he shakes his head, “’s my fault.”
Your head cocks to the side. “Your fault?”
“My fault,” he nods, his brow pinching as he decides how to say what he needs to. “You’re my wife,” he says. “I know you’re my wife—I’ve known it—but I get in my head and I start going through the list of things that I don’ think I deserve, and you’re the Queen of that list, Love. You make everything else on that list seem so unimportant that they have no right bein’ there.”
“Simon…”
“But I’ll make you a deal,” he continues. “I’ll marry you, if you marry me.”
You snicker and, excluding the tears he’d caused, your face does exactly what he’d hoped it would do wherever he imagined proposing. The only detail unaccounted for is your answer, which he supposes is fair. He hadn’t directly given you one either. 
But then you say one the best damn things he’s ever heard leave your mouth. 
Your pretty lips part and you tell him: “Yes.”
A/N: I don’t think love has to be affirmed in the form of a proposal and wedding, but for the sake of the fic…
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giamee · 20 hours
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𝐂𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐖!
╭─────────────────────── ( 🎐 )
even though you don't talk, they'll still find a way to listen
› 〉 📂 .ೃ | mute reader, jus some fluff really, bit on the short side
requested by @/anon
╰─➤ 💌 ₍₁₎ ok i should nawtttt have used this colour scheme im squinting like a rat at my screen tryna see what i'm saying. the title is 'cigarettes out the window' (shoutout tv girl) if u couldnt read it which i do not hold against u
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ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 GEPARD.
it's simply in his nature to look out for others, to ensure that everyone is alright. and when he meets you, he's thrown for a loop a little. because you are fine.
the first time he sees you is in serval's workshop- you're just leaving, and something compels him to make sure that he speaks to you, even if it's for a few fleeting moments before you leave and he most likely never sees you again.
it's a simple question of how your day is, but you simply offer him a small smile before ducking past him, scurrying out of the door that he held open.
he's puzzled at first- maybe it's something to do with him? did you not want to talk to him? but then his sister explains that you're mute, and now he feels like a fool.
and thus begins his attempts to talk to you.
he writes you little notes to begin with. luckily for him, you're a regular at serval's shop, always seemingly having some device or another broken and in need of repairing. serval rolls her eyes at the pair of you- at gepard for being an idiot (you can still hear, you don't need notes), and at you for your attempts to run into her brother as often as possible (those machines weren't really broken).
despite this, it was somewhat amusing to watch the pair of you attempt to flirt with each other. and somewhat cute when your attempts worked.
you kept each and every one of gepard's notes to you, as redundant as they were. his handwriting was a little scruffy, and if you looked at them hard enough you could spot the little tremors where he tried to make the lettering neat.
a special treat was when he decided to add little doodles to them. it was anyone's guess as to what they were supposed to be- you were pretty sure that one of them was supposed to be you- and your heart warmed amidst the chicken scratch and stick figures.
you decide to write your own note back to him. in the top right corner is a little sketch of him, on a similar level to his own creations, that you hope he'll appreciate alongside the note.
you give it to him along with your best smile, mentally capturing the look of joy on gepard's fave at your little gift to him. you were gone by then, shyness overtaking your urge to stay, so you could only imagined his face when he realised that what you had written to him was a formal request to take him out on a date.
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 DAN HENG.
for dan heng to open up to someone new, several criteria have to be met.
for starters, he had to be at least a little bit comfortable around you. receptive, but not too probing or overbearing. rational, but not judgmental. open, but not too much.
in many ways, he was like a cat. you had to let him come to you.
and luckily for you, you seemed to fulfil those criteria.
as one of the newest additions to the astral express, you were in some sort of in-between phase of being one of them and a stranger. you communicated in your own ways, but you found yourself withdrawing to your room. it was overwhelming, this new environment.
it was only natural that you felt more drawn to dan heng more than anyone else. he had similar qualities to you- more introverted, tended to keep to himself. and, as you later found out, you both had a tendency to burn the midnight oil.
it became almost routine to run into him when you're both up late, wandering the astral express for some peace of mind. brief encounters with little nods sent your direction gradually evolved into longer moments spent basking in each other's presence, mostly in silence. but not always.
you both had your reasons to be up late- on the nights where dan heng looked more frazzled, a certain look in his eye, is when you began to piece him together.
he'd lend you some information of his own volition occasionally, telling you about the nightmare he had, recurring or not. there was just this certain quality to you, a look in your eye that made him feel like you truly did listen to him.
and he wouldn't trade your late-night rendevous for the world.
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𝜗𝜚 honkai star rail masterlist
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fire-lizard-ro · 3 days
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Ah yes. I've come to inquire about a certain blond fellow with the pretty eyes. Aventurine
So here's my bit. Reader is going through a break up with Aventurine and then they make up. I'm writing this while attention (females perspective)is playing in my mind. Maybe you could like incorporate it into the ask. Because I'm thinking in a way that the reader is trying to get Aventurines attention whilst keeping him at a distance. Sor of cat and mouse. And he's buying into it though he's much prefer without the sneakiness.
Also I hope this asks finds you in good spirits and a joyful mood. Caio.
Okay, okay- I have no clue what attention is. A song? I’m not good at this game help-
Anyways I will try my best.
Thank you sm for the ask. 🫶
I really do love this twinky little blond man and I’m happy to be writing about him.
It’s like two in the morning rn and I’m rambling here to distract myself from things. ANY!!! WAYS!!!
No gender is mentioned for the reader.
CW: exactly one (1) 2.1 spoiler (Aventurine’s real name- It’s at the very end), break up-make up time, mild angst bc ofc there is it’s Aventurine, hurt/comfort, happy ending hehe 🫶
Writing under the cut (SFW):
You couldn’t help but smile as you saw a certain someone’s nickname flashing across your screen. Right on time.
Though you supposed he knew what you were doing. After all, Aventurine is smart. Even if he didn’t realize it right away, he had to know by now.
You picked up the phone.
“Well hello, stranger. To what do I owe the honor?” It was hard to keep the sly lilt and inflection out of your voice when you knew he was definitely gripping his phone tightly on the other end of the line.
“I’m sure you know, dear. You’re slick but not that slick. You’ll have to do better than that to outplay me,” Aventurine said, his voice still fixed in that unhurried cadence and unbothered tone like usual despite the situation.
You rested your cheek on a hand and leaned back in your seat with a smile. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. In any case, it’s a bit odd of you to call me. After all, we did break up. You remember that, I’m sure.”
You could practically hear the leather of his gloves crunching (is it crunching I forgot-) as he clenched a fist, keeping hold of his restraint.
The two of you had been dancing around each other like cat and mouse. Though at this point, who was the cat and who was the mouse was anyone’s guess.
Despite having gotten to the point of breaking up, you ended up missing him a lot. And thus you began the dance only to find his hand already waiting for you. It was unspoken that you both wanted the same thing. But every time he drew closer, you’d pull back. A frustrating back and forth that seemed to confuse him. Aventurine was sure you wanted him back. And yet you never let the cat finally catch his prey. Why? He didn’t get it.
“Oh sweetheart- Let’s not keep pretending, yes? I know you’ve been trying to catch my attention. You can’t hide your intentions.”
“Seems it’s working, then.”
It was true. You had been doing things to keep Aventurine’s eyes on you. Despite playing a game of keep away with him with how you’d draw him in and push him away, you didn’t want him looking at anyone else. At the same time, you weren’t sure if you’d truly be willing to get together again. What if the train went off the tracks again? The first time had been rough enough with the two of you waging a passive aggressive war and pointedly ignoring each other at some points.
And thus, this odd little game of yours. One that Aventurine was growing tired of it he had finally called you.
“Let’s talk in person, shall we?” “What-?”
A knock at the door. No fucking way- You opened the door to see your favorite the blond man himself.
“Hiya, darling dearest~”
“Aventurine.”
“No need to be like that. I was serious about that talk.” He then pulled a bouquet of your favorite flowers out from behind his back. “For you,” Aventurine said with that stupid charming smirk of his. You squinted at him for a moment before accepting the flowers with a huff and a faux annoyed, “Fine.”
You were a bit conflicted. You were excited that he was here. Especially because he seemed desperate enough to actually seek you out and talk to you in person. But at the same time this was not something you calculated or expected to happen.
“I know you’re glad to see me. You don’t have to pretend,” he practically purred as you shot a glare over your shoulder, still keeping up appearances. “Oh but of course- I’m absolutely just tickled pink.”
Aventurine chuckled, tipping his head down to look at you over his shades, lids low and eyes practically glowing. “You always did have a way with words, sweetheart.”
He then took off the sunglasses (and oh that was another stupid, dorky little thing about him you found oddly endearing- shades inside a building- stupid silly adorable man-) and plopped down on your couch while you put the flowers down on the counter in the kitchen. You’d deal with them later. For now you had him to deal with. You sat in the chair instead of the couch. He pouted playfully about it, but didn’t comment. “I’ll cut to the chase- I want you back. And I know you want me back, too. I just can’t figure out why you’re leading me closer and then shoving me away. I’m starting to get the feeling you just like my attention. But even so- We both know the truth. So why don’t you just give in, lovely? I know you want to,” he said, surprisingly not using the old song and dance of leading someone around to get the information he wanted. He didn’t talk in circles and didn’t even seem all that flirty despite his words. He was… oddly serious.
“And what about the reason we broke up before?” You didn’t even try to pretend anymore. Aventurine has always been able to see right through you. That ability had clearly not gone anywhere. “I can’t make promises, but we can talk. We’ll work something out. I’ll even compromise on it.” Compromise was not an Aventurine word. Any deals he made were made in his favor without the other person even knowing what they were going to lose. Your incredulity must have been showing on your face more than you thought because he laughed lightly, the sound somehow dry- tired and heavy. “I see that look. I’m serious, baby. I’m sorry I ever let you go. You’re the only one who stayed. The only one who has stuck around. I need you. I’ll give it all to you. My attention, my trust, my… my heart, even. You don’t have to play these games to make me want you.”
Now you feel a bit guilty. But at the same time, elated. Even before you broke up, he never once brought up matters of trust and love. He seemed far too uncomfortable even edging around the topic. But now Aventurine was the first one to bring it up.
You said nothing but silently stood. And his eyes dimmed, waiting for disappointment. But then you walked over and sat next to him, pulling him into a hug. “I missed you, Aven.”
He let out a shaky sigh and wrapped you up in his embrace, arms tight around you.
“Kakavasha.”
“What?”
“You should tell me, ‘I missed you, Kakavasha,’” he (Kakavasha?) said, his voice was shaky with emotion.
“I… I missed you, Kakavasha.”
“And I love you, sweetheart.”
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honeyed-hedonist · 9 hours
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SFW:
Rarely cooks for himself because he’s always on the go, but when he does find the time to whip up a meal, it’s always the best thing you’ve ever tasted. 
Dry sense of humor, but will crack a smile (and sometimes even a laugh) despite himself at your puns/jokes/general silliness
Stubborn as all hell. Will fight tooth and nail with you over the dumbest shit just because he’s so obstinate. 
Speaking of stubborn, good luck getting this man to admit he was wrong. You could draft a whole essay in MLA format with a PowerPoint presentation on why, in fact, he’s completely wrong and he’ll still look you dead in your eyes and say “That proves nothing. I’m right.” Sir, no you are not, let me count the ways. 
Don’t let that deter you though! He apologizes for his stubbornness in other ways--whether it’s a bouquet of your favorite flowers or bringing you coffee in the morning, he’s a man of action, not words.
Stoic and standoffish when you first meet him. It takes him a little while to soften, and there’s a big part of him that wants to cave, to break down those walls and open himself back up, but he fights it every time. Despite that, he craves softness and warmth, so when you come along to give it to him in droves, it’s a losing battle for him to keep you at arm’s length
Once those walls are down it’s like night and day. He’s handsy, can’t keep them to himself. He’s always gotta be touching you in some capacity if only to remind himself that you’re real and he needs to cherish every moment he gets with you because he knows better than most how quickly things can change.
Will always make time for you. Doesn’t matter the time of day or night, doesn’t matter what he’s doing, you call and he’s on his way.
Uses all sorts of pet names on you in English and Spanish. Mi cielo (my heaven/sky), mi alma (my soul), chula (cutie), reinita (little queen), mi amor (my love), babe/baby, angel, sweetheart, sunshine, and bunny to name a few. If it’s sweet and makes you fluster, he’s all for it.
Speaks Spanglish a lot, especially when he’s mad. Will switch between both so fast you can hardly keep up, and he’ll stop mid-rant and give you a sheepish smile, shrugging his shoulders. “My mouth has a mind of its own, bonita. Lo siento.”
Calls you often when the two of you are apart. Can’t end his night without hearing your voice. No matter where he is, you can guarantee your phone will ring right before you fall asleep every single night. He always says he’s just calling you to say goodnight, but then the pair of you end up talking for hours. Not that you mind, the lack of sleep is worth it.
NSFW under the cut 18+ NO MINORS.
NSFW:
Oscillates between a hard and soft dom depending on the day he’s had or the mood he’s in, but regardless of that, he’s always the top. 
Eats for his pleasure. When his face is buried between your thighs, it’s not about you, it’s about him and he’ll eat until he’s satisfied, regardless of how desperately you try to shove him off. “Nuh uh, mami, m’not finished yet. Lay back and take it, huh? Be a good girl and let me have my fill. Tastes too damn good.”
Grunts and growls most of the time, but when he’s feeling softer that man 100% whimpers.
A vocal lover--he likes to taunt and tease you, overwhelms you with praise, forces you to answer his questions even in the midst of your fuzzy-headed bliss. “Speak up, princesa. I asked you if you can feel me deep up in that belly. Yeah? There we go. That’s my girl.”
His favorite positions to fuck you in tend to alternate, but he’s a big fan of doggy with his hand around your throat while you’re on your knees with your back to his chest, mainly because it allows him to sink his teeth into your neck and speak absolute filth in your ear. Missionary or a full blown mating press and prone bone are others he enjoys. Also likes to pound into you from below when you ride him--again, this man is all about control so even when you think you have the upper hand, you don’t. 
Big on marking you--with his fangs or otherwise. When you ask him to bite you for the first time he goes absolutely feral, fucks you so hard you can’t walk right or sit down for a week, your chest, neck, and back littered with bruises, bite marks, and a prominent puncture wound at the hollow of your throat.
Stamina for days. My guy could spend hours on end fucking you into the mattress and he does every single time. There are no quickies with Miguel--when he makes time for you, he makes time. Will clear out an entire day and dedicate it solely to taking you apart and piecing you back together just so he can do it all over again. “One more round, baby. C’mon, need it. You’re not gonna deprive me, are you? Nah--you know better. Open up for me, chula, just like that.”
Big breeder balls. (Sorry, I don’t make the rules.) My boy will stuff you so fucking full. Practically cums buckets and loves to watch it ooze out of your abused little hole when he’s finished pumping several loads inside you. “Lookit that, huh? Ese pequeño coño está lleno, ¿no?” (That little cunt is stuffed full, isn’t it?)
To be continued…..
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jumexju · 3 days
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TOO SWEET
Pairing !! : L x GN Reader
Fic Type !! : One-Shot / Fluff / Reversed Comfort
CW !! : None !
Summary !! : You bring your lover a cup of too-sweet coffee when he's working late, again.
Note !! : Reader is described to be a goth ^^
✦ MASTERLIST
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Your boots softly thudded against the shiny floor. The room was dim when you walked in, thankfully, the multitude of screens lit your way, framing your boyfriend's silhouette perfectly. "____." You smiled as he acknowledged your presence, "L." His gaze flickered up at you before resting his eyes on the cup of coffee you'd placed in front of him. "Why are you here?' L asked with that monotonous tone that was slightly more animated when he was speaking to you. Pulling out a chair from the desk, you smirked at his question, deciding you'd mess with him just for old times' sake. "I can't bring my boyfriend his favorite coffee?" You lifted a brow as you asked the question, the smirk still on your face. He looked at you with those beautiful grey eyes of his, chuckling at how he gave you his signature deadpan expression. He sighed at hearing your familiar laugh, deciding not to fight you on the matter.
Nonetheless, he still expressed his concerns, rather calmly as he always did. "You're putting yourself at risk, ____."
You smiled tenderly as you looked at him, admiring his features as he poured the coffee from the store-bought cup into his own coffee cup, he always liked to do things in a specific way, even small things like drinking from a particular cup. "I know. But you've been working so hard.. and I missed you." you admitted as you put your own coffee cup down & scooted on your chair closer to him. He looked you over, his lips slightly parting at the mention of missing him. A look of wonder briefly gracing his features before reverting to their usual, seemingly-unimpressed state. "Thank you for bringing me the coffee." He said quietly. You knew there was another meaning to the sentence, he wasn't used to being affectionate because of his line of work and well.. lets be honest, his love life was not as eventful until you came into his life.
You knew he wasn't thanking you for the coffee, more so the fact that you chose to be close to him despite the danger you could have faced had Light been in the room.
Smiling to yourself, you spoke up, "I figured you needed it, you've been working so hard.. then again, you always are." You looked down at your hands holding the warm coffee cup with a faint smile playing at your lips. "I suppose so." He says as his attentive eyes look through video surveillance of the building. A small comfortable silence built in between the two of you before L filled the room with his quiet, analytic voice, "Is it an inconvenience to you?"
"What is?"
"My job." he answered, his eyes still glued to the screens before looking down at the cup of coffee intently. "I understand how my job as a detective can be time consuming and thus not leave enough time for you and I to dedicate time to one another," he mutters to you, "..Recently i've noticed that I find myself wondering if I am somehow a hinderance to you, ..Am I?" It was only until then that he finally turned to look at you.
Before L could even comprehend what was happening, you cupped his cheeks & looked at him with a tender expression on your face. The sight of it bringing a familiar warm feeling into his chest. He was speechless. "You're not a hinderance, nor are you an inconvenience to me, L." you told him softly, your thumbs gliding tenderly across his pale skin. "I knew what I was getting into when I chose to pursue a relationship with you. I knew your first priority would always be work & I'm okay with that." you assured him, hoping it would drive those self-deprecating thoughts away.
He sighs and his eyes close once you assure him that he isn't what those thoughts at the back of his head try to tell him. He brings his cold hand up to rest on your own warm hands, "..I apologize, I-"
"There's no need to apologize.." You smile softly at him, "You're human L, It's perfectly normal to feel that way.. I feel like sometimes you forget that." He smiled a little at your words, realizing how true they are. He works late hours & barely ever sleeps because of how dedicated he is to solving these cases.. because of how dedicated he is to justice. To others, he may have seemed peculiar ー inhumane, even ー but that was never the case with you. You always somehow found a way to love him through his stubbornness & pessimism, always persevering whenever an obstacle seemed to cross your path.
"I admire you, _____." He spoke before opening his eyes to look at you, a softer gleam in his eyes when he did.
Yes, ..he was certain now.
His favorite moments were when it was just the two of you.. because in some miraculous way,
..you always found a way to quiet his doubts.
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