#if you want to know why i’m awake at 4am ask whatever the fuck was making that cracking sound and breathing in the other room

[jojoreadwhat]

lie  / h.s. x fem!reader • smut

where y/n has had enough of their “arrangement” and harry is unsure about his feelings.

words; 4k, this isn’t proofread and I’m sorry

warning; friends with benefits theme. angst, strong language, sexual content including handjob, oral(f!receiving) fingering, edging, penetrative sex. under final cut. then will be concluding with lots of fluff and aftercare. reader is advised

I listened to this

+

it was going on 3am and Harry was finally giving up on the idea of sleep.

he thought he would have fallen asleep by now after the day he had previously. jam packed with photoshoots, interviews, some time at the studio with Mitch and then ended the night with a party. it was seeming like the liquor he downed earlier on, coursing through his veins wasn’t ready to slow anytime soon yet. and he was over it. tossing and turning in his king sized bed since midnight. he sighed roughly to himself the moment his back met the mattress, lying there still now. defeated and annoyed, looking up at the clear, white ceiling above him. with his mind speckled in thought, the real reason why he wasn’t in a heavy slumber right now.

tonight wasn’t the first one without a good night of sleep. this was night five now. with you on his mind and not next to him. and it wasn’t because you miles apart from each other, on different sides of the earth no. you on his mind wasn’t something new or missing you either. but it was different this time around. when a few days ago, that all changed. when he let you walk out that door, because of him.

harry hasn’t seen you or heard from you for nearly a week now. since you stormed out of this room. he remembers the moment, so vividly. it hasnt left his brain, instead embedded itself to remind him of how much of an asshole he truly is. your naked frame scurrying around his room, picking up all your clothes scattered from the events that took place shortly before. with anger, embarrassment, the sadness that you contained by biting your bottom lip. after spilling your heart out to him, that you loved him. breaking the first rule to your arrangement.

you and harry had a very complicated friendship in the last eight months. at first it wasn’t, it was a very traditional one. both of you met at a mutual friends party a year earlier, hitting it off from the start and the rest became history. you two were inseparable, doing everything, literally, together. you were his date to most of his events, went on trips and getaways together, did mundane things like grocery shopping, which was always a experience. you both hung out all the time. smoking together most nights and playing records, while laying on his living room floor. talking about everything to anything. harry even gave you a key and your own spot in his dresser. you two were a dream team, the friendship that many aspired to have. the one that everyone was waiting to watch bloom into something more.

things changed out of the blue one night. you had come over, distraught over a guy that you were seeing for two months who wasn’t ready for anything to go further. Harry and you did the next best thing, passing a blunt back and forth among each other. lying on his living room floor, listening to fleetwood mac faintly in the background. talking over the worthless two months, the piece of shit of a guy Jared was and how finding love in this day and age just didn’t make sense. next thing you knew, Harry’s waist was wrapped in your legs, his weight heavy enough on you as he kissed you hard and long. your fingers twisted in his little dark brown curls at the back of his neck as pulled him back down to you. neither of you knew how it started, what made the sudden change but you never looked back.

this friends with benefits thing went on for eight months, filling in some void that you both were missing. it was great, really great. you had each other whenever you wanted. whatever how long you wanted. nobody knew about it as far as you know. you were careful, even when the need was necessary at strange times or at places other than both your beds. there was one time that harry flew you out to italy for a weekend for nothing but that (and you as a plus one at gucci) it was a weekend that neither of you would admit, still gave you both chills looking back. all around your arrangement worked, it wasn’t a disaster like some of the stories or movies told. it was perfect in every way.

until now. where you both were going through the longest drought to date and feelings were involved.

for harry, the night that you admitted how you felt for him after all this time. it wasn’t that he didn’t feel the same as you, he just wasn’t sure that he did. he needed you more than he realized, more then he wanted to believe. for a while now. he has been denying the change for so long that when he was faced with the reciprocation, he froze and put his guard up. but in all reality, he has been in love with you since the beginning of time.

you were his girl, his person. you knew him in and out, you didn’t care about his status or money. you treated him as harry. your best friend. his number one cheerleader. the hug he needed after a rough day. the laugh he wanted hear before he closed his eyes and when he woke up. the child like heart of yours as you sat in the cart, sneaking candy in the cashier line. the dance partner he needed in the early morning in the middle of the kitchen. his plus one that he was excited to have on red carpet with his arm around. the lips he wanted to kiss, all the time and not just in the moment. so soft and sweet against his. he wanted, needed everything before and after the arrangement. he needed you and he should’ve told you before letting you leave.

in a rush, harry threw his gray duvet off his shirtless himself, sitting up and standing out of his bed. not caring about his hair or the sleep deprivation evident on his face. he threw on his black hoodie, searching for his cream vans and heading down the hall to grab his keys to his Mercedes and out to the driveway he went. on his way to you.

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not finding the ability to sleep. you were laying on your couch, lights off with only the blue light reflection off the tv screen while aimlessly watching a movie you didn’t catch the title to. this was becoming a ritual for the last few nights. awake past your usual time, feeling it hit hard in the morning. drinking the sleep you missed prior in a paper cup. overwhelmed with the same thoughts from morning to night. you huffed, having enough of it. hastily flicking off the tv by the remote before turning over on the couch, clutching the yellow throw to yourself and closing your eyes tight.

after no calls or texts, a clear indication that it was over. you were feeling like a fool on how much you allowed this to get to you. you shouldn’t be feeling this sad. you finally got your answer. you shouldn’t be missing him. you should be pissed off. mad. you should be going out with your friends and trying to find someone to forget the dreadful blissful months you endured. but you’re not. because you miss him. because you love him. everything little thing about him and he doesn’t feel the same. you’ve never felt so stupid in your life. so confused by everything.

none of it made sense. his response beat the shit out of you. you werent expecting him to love you back but at the same time, you knew there had to be something there. the way things were even when you weren’t tangled up in each other limbs, fucking like rabbits. harry gave you so much confidence that he was feeling the same way about you like you did for him. holding your hand in public, kissing in the most exposed places, never denying that you weren’t his girl when asked at events. instead, his grip on your waist would tighten. he would smile at you, kissing the top of your head. making sure you were okay at all times, keeping his focus on you no matter the situation. when you were alone, he would declare you as his all the time. every fiber of your skin he touched “all mine.” he would say, so low to hear but for your ears only. you wanted it all back. even if it was all for fun and games.

hypothetically kicking yourself for being so brave. for placing your heart on your sleeve for it only to be held by cheap thread. for wanting it back, for wanting to continue the charades because it’s better than nothing at all. you didn’t deserve that. you needed better. someone willing to give you that in reality and not only behind closed doors. someone who is lucky to have you at all times and not when its for a fixing.

you sighed to yourself, rolling back over to glance at your phone on the coffee table. bright in the darkened room, squinting to see, it read now quarter to 4am and you rolled your eyes. done with the fiddle faddle with your thoughts, you needed sleep and you were over allowing this situation to consume you further. rising from the couch, you wrapped the throw over your shoulders to protect you from the chill from here to your bedroom. looking around to make sure all was good before continuing on.

approaching the foyer of where your staircase and living room entrance met. you were startled by hard, repetitive knocks to your front door. you froze where you stood. who could be here at this hour? You thought to yourself. you quietly reached for a vase on a nearby table. creeping closer to the door.

the knock happened again before stopping once more. “love, y/n.” you heard the raspy, tired voice from the other side of the door. it was Harry. “it’me, please open up.”

you bit your lip, rolling your eyes. fuck, you muttered to yourself before placing the vase back down. unlocking the door and flinging it open gently. there he stood in front of you. in your favorite attire, all casual in just a hoodie and joggers that hugged his bottom half just right. his chestnut hair, a mess and disheveled, golden at the top from the porch light above him. scruff peppered around his mouth and along his jaw. his green eyes like daggers on you as he watched you search him, using the time to figure to say hey right. the stare made you feel a bit beside yourself, pulling the throw closer to yourself and over your flimsy pink cami paired with gray sweats. you cleared your throat, looking at the street and breaking the silent stare.

“I hope your not here to get something from me.” you stated, then. looking anywhere but at him like you wanted. taking everything you to keep yourself together as you placed between wanting to yell at him and tell him to never see you again and wanting to pull him in to make up for the lost time. “ha, no.” harry shook his head at your comment. raising his hand to his hair, raking his fingers through it, nervously. “I came m’ere to talk.” he said, “if that’s alright?”

you both stood there for a moment before opening the door further slowly. giving him room to come right in. his cologne of vanilla and sandalwood hitting the brim of your nose the second he slipped by you. something you missed, being caught up in it. you pressed your back against the door, hearing it shut behind yourself as you followed after harry to the living room where he made himself at home. he stood poised next to your gray linen couch, waiting to see you approach the room before he took a seat on it. patting the spot next to him. overwhelmed by the time, by his presence and all the emotions bouncing around like a pin ball machine in your mind and body. you treading carefully around your coffee table, joining him shortly after and becoming leveled with his green orbs.

it was quiet for the first few minutes, and not the comfortable kind that you’d fall into from time to time. watching Harry’s rosy plump lips open and close, seeing his hand rise to them, his index and thumb pinching his bottom lip, struggling with what to say first. tongue tied by the fact that you let him in in the first place. he wasn’t prepared to not be given a fight. he sighed, roughly. “I’ve missed you so much.” he began, taking you by surprise and lacing his fingers with yours.

you shook your head, leaving his grasp before standing up from the couch. “please don’t lie to me, harry.” stopping whatever his plan was firsthand. “I’m not falling into this.. trap. I told you how I felt and that’s that. don’t take it for granted.” harry stood up to meet you, wanting to get closer, pull you closer to him but he left the space for you.

“M’not lying. I missed you.” going on, “I came ‘ere to talk. to tell ya I’m sorry. that I regret the moment that ya walked out the door.” he finished, his eyes never leaving yours for a second as he spoke. you furrowed your brows, the confusion rising again. “why are you sorry? you don’t feel the same and I just have to deal with that. that’s nothing to be–” harry grew closer at the last bit of your speech. cutting in. “but it wasn’t the truth. I do feel the same and I let you leave thinking I didn’t. that’s what I’m sorry about.”

you were stuck. shocked to say the least. you couldn’t believe what just came out of his mouth, but your inner self wasn’t going to let it sink in so easily. “please don’t do this. harry, if you lying to me. I will never forgive you. so please stop.” feeling your eyes becoming glassy as tears threatened the rim. harry shook his head, his hands meeting at the top of your shoulders as he looked you in the eyes. “I won’t stop because I’m not lying.” feeling his hands running down your arms, slow to stop and grab your hands in his. “I love you, y/n. I fucking love you.” you looked up at him at rise in volume at his last words. his eyes searching your face and yours doing just the same. trying to find any flake that this wasn’t real, that what he just said was only in your mind and wasn’t just said into the air. you bit at your now quivering bottom lip, trying to keep yourself together.

“if you’re messing with me, H. I swear to god” needing another reassurance, harry flashed his cheeky infamous smile at the use of his nickname from you. feeling normalcy, before his large, soft hands left yours to scoop your face. tilting it up to his. “I mean it. with everything I have, all I own. I mean it.” he said, “I love you, I always have and will.” his words silver off his lips. you couldn’t explain the feeling that rouse in you but you felt tears, happy ones, beginning to make way down your cheeks. “I love you too.” you muttered softly to harry, him still smiling toothlessly now as his thumbs collected the droplets. before leaning down and capturing your lips with his.

the moment they met, your body responded immediately. rising in heat from head to toe. melting into harry as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. one hand still caressing your cheek, while the other dug tightly at your waist. the long days of not being wrapped up, sharing sweet pecks or laughs amongst one another was felt right now. the kiss starting out so sweet and tender, feeling the smiles and hearts combust in happiness. soon were taken over by neediness, lust and desire from the lost time. his tongue running along your bottom lip, asking for entry to deepen the kiss. never feeling something so powerful shared between the two of you. never pulling away long enough to catch breath, harry directed you both towards the couch. his hands clasping are your bum, silently telling you to jump into his arms before settling you both down with him beneath you, straddling his lap.

you let out a breathy moan when his lips met the spot connecting your jaw and neck. peppering kisses along your jawline as your fingers got lost in his thick curls. feeling him smiling against you with every little sound only he could get out of you, marking what belonged to him. he pulled away slightly, having you chase his lips and cheeks and leaving him in a fit of chuckles. understanding the neediness you were trying to release, you could feel his against the inside of your thigh. he placed his hands back on your face, pulling you down to kiss you again, before backing away once more and resting his forehead to yours. “do you want to go upstairs?” you asked, softly. hands flattening at the fabric on his broad chest, straightening his shirt. meeting his gaze, harry smiled slightly, cupping your cheek and bringing your lips to his again. “I’d love to.” his warm, minty breath grazing your mouth. you smiled, then.  before rising off of harry. your feet touching the chill of hardwood floor, standing between his legs before reaching out for him to grab a hold of your hand. allowing you to direct him, hand in hand, up the stairs and to your bedroom.

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the moment harry and you entered the bedroom. he beaconed you to the bed, immediately bringing you down with him. leaving where you left off moments ago, on harry’s lap, hands in his hair. his green eyes, darkened in lust, smirking up at you before his lips met yours in a slow, sweet embrace. 

“I want to take my time with you tonight.” he spoke, breathlessly. Looking up at you, pecking your nose. running his thumbs under eyes, noticing the lack of sleep evident likewise, then along your cheeks and to your bottom lip. “Are you up for that, love?” He asked, like the gentleman he is. “Hm?” eyes on you, going in and kissing your collarbone. leaving you to bite back a cross between a whimper and giggle, “please.” you cried.

”good.” he muttered, softly. smirking and placing both of his hands on you bum, squeezing light before rolling you over so quickly you couldn't register what was happening until you were lying flat on your back, him hovering you now and his teeth were nipping at you ear. you squealed and wiggled beneath his heavy, toned body, and his mouth left kisses on your neck, your collar bone, back to your lips again. one of his tattooed arms, rested next your head, steadying himself while the other roamed your body. savoring any exposed skin of yours on his fingertips. your body following the feeling of his hands as they ran along it, up and down your waist, to your hip. moaning lightly into one of the grazes of your lips, harry's own curling up at the sides.

with his hands clasping your waist and under your shirt. you began to feel the fabric rise up. harry broke his lips away from your neck, rolling the shirt up and over your head. throwing it to the floor. the chill of the room now hitting your topless body, your nipples hardening more to the new adjustment. your hands falling into harry’s hair again as he lowered himself along your body. kissing the skin over your breasts. looking up at you, watching you.  harry took one of your harden nipples into his mouth, the other between his fingers of his hand. tracing X's and O's over and around. him kissing, licking, sucking, biting at every bit of your bare skin. earning him moans and whimpers from you, continuing to watch you lose yourself. feeling privileged to see this sight of you, only him. only he could get this arouse out of you. your head rested on the pillow, a whimpering mess from only his mouth. giving him all the rights to ravage your body. 

the anticipation was getting the best of you. you wanted him now, you were already over with his toying around. “harry, please.” you whimpered, “p-please do something.” harry looked up, smirking at you, devilishly before he climbed back up. your legs wrapped around his middle, pushing him closer to you. “eager aren’t we?” he retorted. you smiled into a moan when you felt his erected shaft underneath his joggers, graze your throbbing clit, covered in your drenched panties. you weren’t the only one.

harry tilted your face up towards his, pecking your lips sweetly and pulling away only centimetres. “stay patient, love.” he muttered, then. before going back down your body again. trickling kisses above the waistband of your sweats. feeling his long, slender fingers slid under the band, pulling the pants down agonizingly slow before he was faced with your panties now. 

he groaned at the sight of the wet spot on them, causing you to gasp when he ran three fingers over your clothed heat. “you’re so wet.” he swallowed, meeting his green eyes with yours, darkened and glazed over in lust and desire. “and its all for me.” not wasting another second before pulling the fabric down off you and you hissing at the sharp chill grace your cunt. 

harry continued to tease, starting from your knee and aligning kisses on your inner thighs. feeling his breath graze where you wanted his mouth the most. you bucked your hips once at him, immediately his hands meeting them “ah ah.” he spoke, you looked down at him, him raising a brow and his green eyes flashing up at you. silently telling you to “be patient.” again. leaving you irritated as your head forcefully met the pillow. but the little tantrum working in your favor when you felt his lips kiss your mound, following a stride of his tongue against your swollen clit. like an electric shock to your body. he worked you slow and hard, careful, taking his time like this was going to be the last. building you up to the top, then slowing down to do it all over again. your hands wrapped up in his curls, bringing him as close as you could. directing him where you wanted him as you rotated your hips until he had enough, holding your lower half down, your legs on his shoulders and your hands in his. as he devoured you like a delicacy. and having you come on his tongue. twice.

once he was done tasting you, so fucked out and spaced, you hadn’t noticed him standing at the end of your bed. undressing himself until he was left in his briefs, crawling back over you, his legs parting yours at the knees as his large hand cupped your cheek, bringing your lips to his. nudging his nose with yours, he pecked your cheek, “are you still with me, love?” he asked, noticing how you were still trying to get to your whereabouts. harry’s fingers of his other hand were drawing little circles to your hip, to the top of your heat. you nodded slow, giving him the go to continue further when you felt his finger slip through your soaked folds, before entering you. you moaned at the feeling, harry now resting his forehead to yours as his fingers moved in and out of you at a generous pace. one of your hands, met harry’s face gently. while your free one went searching passed his tented briefs, before embracing his hard, thicken shaft in your hand. causing harry’s breath to hitch at the contact. collecting the pre-cum at the top of his swollen tip, lubing him up and running your hand tightly around his cock, stroking him. his free hand holding your face close to his, both swallowing each other’s moans in between heated kisses as you got each other off.

harry could feel you tightening around his fingers, growing closer to the edge. he pulled his fingers away from you and backed away from your touch. you shuttered in surprise, pouting from the loss of contact. looking up at him, searching for an explanation for only to be left watering in your mouth from the view of harry the two fingers that were occupied and covered by your juices, into his mouth. tasting you. in a need, you leaned up to meet harry halfway, pulling him into another countless kiss. your hand travelling to his shaft that was resting stiff against his abdomen when his hand met it mid stream, tangling his fingers with yours.

“no love, I need you now.” he commanded, gently pushing you back down. laying on top of you, feeling his cock resting against you. the same hand still wrapped in yours, now next to your head. while the other placed your thigh around him, before wrapping his hand around his shaft, positioning himself perfectly aligned with your cunt. feeling the tip. his head falling into the nook of your neck, his curls tickling your skin, lips warm against your neck and shoulder as he slipped into you, slow.

you gasped at him expanding your walls, being cautious, taking his time as he waited for you adjust to him. muttering sweet nothings, kissing you all over the place before he heard the green light from you. starting a nice rhythm, pulling almost all the way out and thrusting right back in. his hands all over you, his mouth connected to any bit of your skin that he could taste. his moans and grunts grazing hot at your ear were enough to have you orgasm right then and there for him. but any moment that you felt like you were growing closer, harry would slow down. lazily pounding into you, muttering affirmations. “you’re so beautiful.” to “you feel so good, love.”

your new favorite though almost was barely audible when he began to pick up the pace, colliding with the friction of your skin meeting. kissing you deeply, “I love you.” he said, softly but sincere. your eyes opening from focusing on the repetition to his words, “say it again.” you said looking at him with half lidded eyes, your glistening skin in a sheen of sweat. harry smirked big before you watched his mouth almost ‘o’

“I love you, y/n.” he said again. leaving you to moan at the sound of it, leaning up slightly, chasing his lips with yours. “I love you too” you spoke against his mouth, wrapping your hands around his back. soon beginning to dig when you felt yourself growing close.

harry began to feel you clenching around him. “are you close, baby?” he muttered. immursed in the how beautifully your bodies moved today, like they were made for this. you met his gaze again, “y-yes” you stuttered in between a moan, he then peck your lips, grabbing your hands like daggers from his back into his large hands, setting them above your head. beginning to speed up, driving to home base. thrusting into you erratically, both your breathy moans and sounds echoing against the walls of the room. his head falling to meet his mouth to your ear, “come with me, come with me, come with me” he repeated.

and before you could even think of attempting to hold back. without a warning, you cried out in absolute pleasure as your orgasm ripples through you. your back arching, collecting every bit. harry’s hands clasping to meet your middle as he senselessly pounded into you when his hips snapped back, meeting his own euphoria and he released warm and heavy into you. collapsing limply onto your body, his weight heavy and him completely exhausted, but in a unrelaxed, happy state. in a haze from what just took place seconds ago.

you both lied there, motionless. breathless with a dry throat, panting and clammy. you lazily ran your fingers through harry’s hair where his head lied, resting on your chest between your breasts. he slowly looked up at you. his green eyes soft now, his smile, toothlessly and dreamy that you felt butterflies sworm. “you alright, love?” he whispered, you smiled, nodding to answer. your hand, caressing his milky, glistening cheek. leaving you in a fit of giggles, when he turned his mouth in the direction of your palm. kissing it before lazily climbing up you and placing his hands on your cheeks. just staring at each other for a moment, gazing, taking each other in before he smile, kissing your cheek and bringing his attention back to you.

“did I tell you that I love you?” he smiled, feeling heat rise to your cheek. biting your lip, you shrugged. “Mmm, maybe once or twice?” you said, then. wrapping your arms around his neck. harry flashed a bright smile, leaning closer to your lips with his. “well i’ve got all night to tell you more.” he said, before crashing his lips on yours.

#Harry Styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #slutforbritdick

[stellar-starseed]

Closer Than That

Group: Stray Kids

Pairing: Changbin x reader, Jisung x reader, polyamory

Summary: Your best friends happen to be 3racha, but Changbin was your closest friend from childhood. When things start to take a different turn in your relationship, you’re left wondering which way is up.

Word Count: 2,340

Chapter: 11/14

Other Chapters: Master List

Warnings: 18+; sexual content, language

Chapter 11

With the comeback only days away, you weren’t sure whether you were sad because you would be away from Changbin for two months as the tour rapidly approached, or if you were sad because your relationship with Jisung was dissolving before your very eyes.

Your few text messages went unread. Your attempts to communicate through other members fell short. It was beginning to feel like you would never speak with Jisung. The way he could shut you out so easily made you sad at first. Your sadness turned to disappointment and anger.

How could he do this again? You thought to yourself. He promised he wouldn’t.

You found yourself working in a solo studio instead of working with your boyfriends. You didn’t dare use that hall for fear of a death glare from your more sensitive boyfriend.

“Hyunie, can you talk to him?”

“Me?” Hyunjin questions. “I tried! Ask Lee Know.”

“He told me to give him space.” You pout. Hyunjin pats your shoulder.

“We can go pick up ice cream and watch dramas.” Hyunjin suggests. You sigh, but nod. That was your best option.

Changbin felt a bit awkward approaching Jisung about an argument between the two of you. It wasn’t his place, but he would do anything for you. He flung open the door to the studio only to find it empty. Changbin wandered around until he found the room Jisung was hold up in. He crashed the end of Jisung’s Vlive.

“Bye!” Changbin sang to the camera in his cutest voice. Jisung smacked him out of habit and laughed. Changbin felt a bit better about the situation when it seemed that Jisung wasn’t awkward around him.

“What’s up?” Jisung asked as he settled in after wrapping everything up and giving the phone back to the staff. Changbin got more comfortable in his seat.

“Uh oh.” Jisung chuckled. When Changbin didn’t chuckle with him Jisung stopped what he was doing. “This is about _____?” When Changbin nodded Jisung sat back down in his chair.

“Look I know what you’re going to say. She means so much to me, I’m being an ass...”

“Yeah, keep going.”

“Listen, I know these things okay? I’m not having an easy time with this, but every time I go to see her I feel shitty again. I’m either hurting because I miss her or hurting because I don’t feel like I fit in here. If you have some sage advice I could really use it right now.”

“She was one of your closest friends before this. Why wouldn’t you fit in?” Changbin sat back in therapist mode.

“Fuck, I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. It’s even harder because you’re on the other end. I feel like a dick.” Jisung sighed and it was silent for a long while as he tried to put his thoughts in order. These feelings didn’t have a name or a real reason they just festered inside of him.

“I feel..fuck I’m going to sound like a bitch, but, I feel like you and her are the real couple. I’m sitting on the outside. It’s like you guys are one, and I’m an after thought. Not on purpose and nothing against either of you, but I’m a third wheel.”

“Hmm.” Changbin didn’t have much to say to that. He sat on it for a moment.

“It’s like you were meant to be together, the two of you. And as much as I love her, I won’t be you. She loves me, yeah, but it won’t ever be the way she loves you.”

“Me and you are not the same person.” Changbin simply says.

“Not the point.”

“It’s exactly the point.” Changbin gave Jisung a look that suggested it was obvious and it should click.

Jisung sighed loudly and looked away to try to put his words together. He wasn’t able to come up with anything better than this feeling that eats away at him.

Changbin wondered if anything he said to Jisung sunk in, but he couldn’t be focused on his friend when his girl was hurting. He headed for your apartment and found you were cuddled up with Hyunjin watching dramas.

“I didn’t approve of this cuddling.” Changbin crosses his arms as he stands in front of you.

“Babe!” You exclaim as Hyunjin simultaneously shouts,

“Changbin-ah!” Throwing a couch pillow at him.

“Okay, okay.” Changbin takes a seat and chuckles at the two of you when you immediately get back into the show in front of you. He watched you as you winced or laughed at the actions on the screen. His heart was full, and it wasn’t until then that he realized maybe Jisung had a point.

Later that night, after Hyunjin left to the dorms, you and Changbin sat in the silent, dark living room. Neither of you wanted to move or do much of anything. Changbin pulled you closer to him. A satisfied sigh escaped him.

“I talked to Jisung.”

“Okay, is it bad?”

“I’m not sure.” Changbin said causing your heart to sink. Had you really fucked up so bad?

“I love you,” he sighs and looks up to the ceiling searching for the thought that crossed his mind earlier so clearly.

“I love you too?” you say perplexed.

“I love you so much that I know I couldn’t love anyone else. Like my heart is full as it is. Loving you has put me at max loving capacity.”

You laugh and sit up. When you looked at Changbin he was serious. You cross your arms over your chest. What was in the air?

“I love you just as much, Changbin, but I’m not understanding where this is coming from or what it has to do with Jisung at the moment?”

“You love me so much you have no room to love anyone else?”

“I love you both that way...”

“Jisung doesn’t feel that way. I didn’t get it until I came here tonight.”

“He doesn’t love me that way, or?”

“Jisung doesn’t think you could love us both like that. I think he feels like he gets scraps of you because I was here first.”

“You said you understood tonight. Do you feel that way, too?”

Jisung spent the night tossing and turning. When he glanced at the clock to see it was nearly 4am he decided to give up on sleep. He sighed to himself in the dark room. He heard Jeongin’s faint snores in the distance.

Jisung grabbed for his phone and headed towards the living room. He saw the light on in Chan’s room and decided not to bother him this night. Jisung glanced towards Minho’s room and thought better of bothering him as well. He plopped down on the couch and decided to be alone with his thoughts.

The thoughts that kept him awake most of the night were now free to flood in. Jisung was fighting with himself. He knew this decision would haunt him if he were to make the wrong one, but he knew he had to decide one way or the other.

It wasn’t long before the sun came up. The golden rays causing the most interesting shadows. Jisung had decided, with the light seemingly illuminating his thoughts, that he was going to write it all out. By the end of his thoughts he would know.

You turned to face your boyfriend and immediately you softened upon seeing his sleeping form. You knew he was everything to you, but so was Jisung, how could you possibly get them to understand?

Your hand found it’s way to his chest and you traced small circles on his bare skin. He stirred a bit underneath you, and you leaned in to kiss his warm skin. You swore a smirk momentarily appeared. You couldn’t help but giggle at him.

The warmth of his skin, the way he tasted. You were going to miss this more than you could imagine. You were near ready to book a ticket to meet Changbin.

This tour was going to kick off in Europe and you were positive you could work on the road. You decided it wouldn’t be the best of ideas. The guys would be exhausted and you would just get in the way of their jam packed schedule.

Changbin began to stir a bit more underneath you. Soon he was stretching and you were met with a smile.

“Good morning, princess.” He says before he kisses your forehead.

“I’m going to miss you.” You blurt out. Changbin pouts.

“Don’t start.” He whines. “Princess, you’re going to make me even more sad.”

“I know but...” You pout. “I won’t even get to see you today. I just...”

Changbin wraps his arms around you and holds you close. You stay like that for some time. He only pulls away to kiss you. You sensed his sadness about leaving you and you didn’t want to make it harder on him by crying or giving him a hard time.

“Come on.” You say. You both get dressed and you head to the coffee shop near the dorms. Changbin is a bit curious as to why you brought him to the coffee shop. He’s not a frequenter of the shop like Jisung is, and he has come to think of this as your spot with Jisung.

“Try it!” You say setting a large breakfast sandwich in front of him. Changbin raised an eyebrow at you but he tried it anyway. His eyes widened and he nodded at you before taking another bite.

“Told you.” You smile proudly at him. “Channie brought me here just for this sandwich.”

“Why didn’t he bring me here?” Changbin says before stuffing more of the sandwich into his mouth. You pick at the other half of the sandwich on his plate. You weren’t feeling very hungry. After this meal you would be alone. The thought was becoming much louder and you weren’t able to hide your sadness.

Changbin tried his best to ease the sadness by cracking jokes, but you both knew the cloud that hung over wasn’t going away. You finished your breakfast and head to the dorms with him to say your goodbyes

There was a quick succession of goodbyes between you and the guys until Jisung walked out of his room. The awkward silence that fell over the room was followed by everyone filing out save for you and Jisung.

“Hey.” You say. He smiles mirthlessly.

“Hey, I wanted to give you this. I also want to say I’m sorry. It’s all in here.” He hands you a folded letter. You get the feeling whatever is in this letter isn’t going to make you feel better.

“Okay.” You say. You wanted to scream at him, tell him he was a jerk for putting you through this. You wanted him to say it was okay and you would just fall back into normal routine. None of that happened.

Jisung stood there for longer than he planned. He couldn’t seem to move. Suddenly he leaned in and gave you a sweet lingering kiss on the lips. You both stayed there, lips pressed against one another’s, unable to pull away and afraid to deepen it. He finally pulled away.

“I want you to know I love you, and no matter how you feel I need you to know it doesn’t change that.”

“Jisung, I love you too. So much. I’m going to miss you.” You can’t help but pout a little at him. He smiles and kisses your forehead. He sighs to himself and walks away.

Changbin rushes up to you and picks you up in a gigantic hug. You can’t help but call out and you start laughing. Chan grabs onto you from behind when the spinning stops. Your sandwiched between two of your best friends and all you can think about is how sad you’re going to be when they’re gone.

“Love you.” You call one last time as the van door closes. You faintly see Changbin’s hand on the glass through the tinted window. Why did it feel like this was going to be forever?

You finally make it home after trying to fill your day with meaningless errands you swore you couldn’t get done with your boyfriends around. After you put your laundry in the washer you plop down on the couch, certain that you had accomplished more today than in two months with work and filling your time with Changbin and Jisung.

Your heart hurt momentarily as your mind wondered over his name, Jisung. Was it such a bad idea to date? Did you ruin your friendship over this? You looked at your bag where the letter was stuffed.

You wanted to know what the letter said, but you were reluctant. Something didn’t sit right with you about it. You felt like the contents of that letter were some ominous thing you didn’t want to open up.

You grabbed the letter anyway and sat back on couch. The drama you didn’t finish with Hyunjin played in the background as you skipped on your tea and stared at the letter. Slowly, you opened it. You smiled at Jisung’s writing. It was cute, not as familiar as Changbin’s but it was nice to see.

Jagiya, he started off. Your heart melted at the thought of him saying that to you. The adoration in his voice made your whole body tingle with excitement. You continued to read. Jisung mentioned his insecurities about you and Changbin. He mentioned a feeling he couldn’t shake.

The more you read the less hopeful you were. Tears began to well up. You wondered how you missed this when you were with him. How could he feel so left out or alone in this relationship without you picking up on that?

“Fuck.” You whispered to yourself as you crumpled the letter in your hands, unable to read through your tears.

When you were able to get to the end of the letter, it was just as expected, Jisung was breaking up with you.

———————————————————————————

It’s been a cool minute, but I do hope you enjoyed!

Stay safe, stay healthy. You’re already doing amazing!

See you on the next episode.

♥️.

#queued for your reading pleasure #closer than that #stray kids #skz #bang chan #changbin #jisung #stray kids fan fic #Changbin fan fic #Jisung fan fic #Changbin x reader #Jisung x reader #polyamory #drama #queued

[mihorapendeja]

happier than ever | tsukishima x you

the one shot in which tsukishima basically falls for a female version of everyone's favorite sunny tangerine.

genre: fluff/soft core smut lmao i haven't done this in years i feel silly but here you go

pairing(s): kei tsukishima x you (referred to as "ria kihira" in part 1 bc this was originally going to be an OC thing but nvm a/n's: show this some love and interaction pls.

PART 1: THE PAST

❝Again?❞ Even though Tsukishima complained again, this time he made it easier for her as he even stood completely still. Such a good boy.

❝Let her beat your face!❞ Shoyo exclaimed as she smiled in delight, then moving on to pat the powder puff on his stupid face. Of course she only took a few seconds for him, but all the time in the world for Hinata.

While the two chirped about the new reboot trailer for Dexter, Kuroo's sleazy self slid beside his lanky child with an extra smug look on his face. That man was a menace.

❝Say, don't you think they look related?❞

Tsukishima was a difficult man to catch off guard, but right then and there, a mini existential crisis kicked in. His eyes darted back and forth between Shoyo and Ria Kihira, the makeup artist on set for the commercial filming day.

Kei knew Kuroo was a slut for all the pretty things in life — he constantly had a trope of hot women surrounding him.

But this time, he'd really outdone himself.

Not a stupid man entirely, a huge shit-eating grin formed on Tetsuro's face. He followed Kei's eyes who desperately wandered back and forth their matching hair, skin tone, lack of height... "please let it be a mere coincidence because it's bad enough that—" Kei shut his own intrusive mind from further thinking as he slapped his hand over Kuroo's mouth shut. Tight.

That hyena laugh was not being unleashed today.

THE STORY OF HOW YOU MET:

ca. 2019, on set of a commercial for one of Kuroo's production companies. After Tetsuro had defeated Kei in a game of beer pong, he had to comply with the loser's bet -- be part of the damn commercial along with Shoyo, for a viewership boost. So he said. Ria was the makeup artist on set that day, and it pretty much went from Tsuki acting like a feral cat who didn't want to be touched by any makeup tools, to blissfully passing out in a chair while she gently stroked his face with a soft powder brush.

Near the end of the day when he'd no longer back away from her with animosity, it was Kuroo's stupidly astute observation that left him rattled. The boy was put into a choke hold because he refused to like someone with the same orange hair and milky skin tone as Hinata. Someone equally bright, bubbly, and stupid ... yeah that refusal didn't last long. Ria spoke her mind so freely, being direct but never pleading because she respected herself in that regard. He liked that and before Kei knew it, he found himself admitting to her that he was, "actually quite fond of you." She understood it was his way of saying those pesky 3 words, 8 letters.

PART 2: THE PRESENT, 3 YEARS LATER.

THE ALARM CLOCK rang it’s deathly siren like tone, nearly sending you into cardiac arrest. Although he defensively stretched an arm out over your chest as if ready to protect, Kei did not get up.

Of course he wouldn't.

Like every morning at 4am, it was you who suffered the most when getting out of bed to grab the phone to silence that torture down. As you had deeply sighed and turned to face the bed, Tssuki was now face up with the covers all the way up to his nose.

Even in your groggy state, you could tell he was smirking. That smug bastard stared at you intently, dead still. While Kei typically minded his own business and was at times thought of as quiet, the boy was definitely not shy. You wouldn't call him a total flirt, but he could so hold onto a gaze without so little as batting a long eyelash.

Kei was, extremely competitive. Lightning would have to strike his literal eyes to keep them from staring at you, specifically at your curvy thighs.

The way your soft cotton shorts rode up them was always a very pleasant sight, so he just kept staring, happily.

He loved that little penguin walk you busted into every morning when shutting the alarm off.

It’s like you couldn’t balance properly, and he swore that you were always shorter looking in the early hours of the day. He didn’t know how you could lack more height than you already did at barely 5 feet 2, but it always seemed that way.

It was especially cute, like he could just grab you and keep you in the palm of his hand.

Tired, you sat back down on the bed. You scooted until meeting the headboard, and then just let her head dip back.

It was so incredibly peaceful until you could no longer ignore his obvious glaring. “If you’re awake already, why don’t you get up?”

“It’s barely 4:05,

we don’t go in till 5am.”

He said so factually that you just deeply exhaled. Tssuki was definitely not a morning person, and neither were you.

Even though you were much more energetic, it was a Friday and you could not wait for the end of the workday already.

While Tssuki could be late to practice because let's be honest, few would even confront him, you could not pull off the same irresponsibility.

You cared way too much, and in general, hated the feeling of being late to anything. "Come on." You murmured, nudging Kei as he completely ignored you and kept on sleeping.

You waited for another minute before climbing out of bed, grabbing his attention once again. This time, your black shorts were scrunched further up. So far up that your ample ass cheeks were out in all their glory.

“Arigato, thank you god.”

Nishinoya would say.

“Well I’m not as naturally good looking as you so I’m gonna go shower and start getting ready.”

You huffed, truly riling Kei up inside. Hearing you say that genuinely made something inside of his stomach stir, so he instinctively reached out towards your wrist.

Even in the dark room, he could see your face clearly and tell you weren’t joking. "The fuck is wrong with her?" He thought, not angry, but extremely concerned because you weren't fishing for a compliment.

The two of you had been together for over 3 years now, and so he more than knew that you were not that kind of girl.

Yes, you lacked height at 5’2, but you were physically strong. Literally, you could carry all the grocery bags in one go with no issues. Lifting abilities? Check.

Even though Tssuki cruelly chose the apartment with extra high kitchen shelves, you would never ask for help to reach for stuff. "Help I can't reach" was not a phrase that existed in your world.

Literally, he’d sometimes walk in for some juice and find you on top of a chair reaching for something, if not on the literal counter tops to store items.

Independent? Check.

Resourceful? Check.

On top of all that, you had a voluptuous body he thought was fucking scrumptious. He understood that the norms for women in Japan could be vicious, especially if you weren’t a slender door like he was, but despite your insecurities, you still wore it all so well. You didn’t let it stop you from wearing whatever you wanted (as you should).

At times he did think you were a little bit stupid for fretting over such body image issues, but Tssuki was okay with that.

He didn’t want a know it all like himself, that be beyond insufferable.

Before he knew it, you were teaching him a thing or two as well. So Tssuki then knew you were not a vapid pick me girl, and that was honestly a pretty big turn on for him.

SPEAKING OF TURN ons, Kei found it incredibly hot to have you pinned beneath him, like you currently were.

It wasn’t an ingenue kink, to have you below him so submissively and weak, no. It was the way you fought to assert yourself, and the way you writhed. The way you tried to break free was no half assed attempt either.

Sometimes you'd even throw in a few knees into it, and Tssuki didn't mind it one bit. Two dominate personalities, things were always bound to be feisty in bed.

This time however, he sensed some a defeat in your soul.

Convinced to rekindle your spirits, his brows furrowed as he lowered himself closer to your pretty face.

“Take that back.” Tssuki growled in a low, oh so sexy deepened morning voice.

“I can’t, It’s true.” You protested, sighing as he pulled himself away only to then wrap his arms around your waist and throw you over his shoulders.

Misreading the situation, you first protested before breaking into full on laughter as he stormed into the shower with you still dangling, kicking your short legs in the air.

You had thought this was playful Tssuki, the version no one was too familiar with.

Except you … and Yamaguchi. You and Yams lived to exchange Tssuki-isms.

You were mistaken when trying to approach him as he had stripped entirely. God, you so badly wanted to touch his defined chest and close the space between —and that’s when your favorite salt mine smirked as he instinctively reached back to swivel the shower handle on.

Grabbing the detachable shower heard, Tssuki sprayed you down.

"That son of a bitch." You thought, having jumped back in shock, literally. The water was so fucking cold.

Tssuki raised a brow, testing you. On one hand, he thought you looked like a helpless kitten that was abandoned on some random parking lot on a rainy day.

He was an asshole, but if he ever came across a lonely stray cat, he'd so scoop it up and take home for some warm milk.

On the other hand, he thought you looked even more hot with the way your baggy shirt now clung onto every part of your curvaceous body.

Tssuki had to exhale as he saw your nipples peaking through your smaller but perfect chest. He just wanted to cup your perky tits, squeeze them and hear you moan in delight—your hot breath on his ear as you rested a side of your face on his.

“Can’t touch me till you take that back.”

He warned as you tried to take a step forward.

“Tssu— you whined, sighing as you crossed your arms, cold.

“Admit it, you’re beautiful. Say it.” He insisted as you tossed your head back. "I’m beautiful … kinda, I mean” you trailed off, too distracted by your own cruel thoughts to notice when he raised the shower head again to spray you down.

“Ouch!” You gasped this time, burned by the super hot water. Tssuki turned, realizing that instead of increasing the water’s pressure, he had turned it to the hot side.

Steaming hot.

He rubbed them back of his neck, sheepishly trying to play off. That stupidly cool bathroom is literally what had sold him into choosing that apartment.

After a long day of training, having a large bathtub to soak in, or large walk in shower that doubled as a sauna to rest in was a treat. Not only that, but curative. You swore that this man's epsom salt baths were the reason his long limbs were always good to go, pain free.

Tssuki rushed to place the shower head back on, pushing a few buttons on the digital control panel to get some therapeutic steam going.

On a good morning, he'd already have you pinned to the wall. Your face buried into his neck as Tssuki spread your ass apart, drilling his every inch into you.

But sadly, this wasn't a good morning ... yet. When you waved a hand out in defeat, eyes swelling with tears, Kei grabbed you right before you could step away.

You slammed into his chest with a light thump as he then grabbed your shoulders to keep you balanced. "My clumsy pumpkin." He thought as you raised your head to meet his warm eyes.

Tssuki lowered his face, gently planting a kiss on your forehead. Pulling away, he grabbed your arm & extended it out as he begin to plant a trail of kisses over the burned-pink area. His kisses deepened the closer he got to your neck, stopping only when at your jawline.

Now, the two of you were staring directly at each other, his eyes radiating all the comfort you wanted to see: love, adoration, lust. It was so quiet, but your heartbeat was so damn loud.

His actions were doing all the talking. Now completely soaked, you looked down at the hem of your shirt as Tssuki grabbed both ends and begin to lift the blouse up and away from you.

Left in nothing but shorts, he kept his eyes locked on you as you nodded while he lowered himself to help you out of them.

Now, completely naked, he just stared at you in awe.

You were his goddess, and he was going to happily worship, service, respect, love.

ARIGATO GOD.

“I don’t know why you hesitate” he softly whispered as you took in a deep breath, suddenly feeling overly emotional. Near tears kind of overwhelmed.

To keep yourself from actually sobbing, you cleared your throat to speak up, “I love my job, but I guess sometimes working with so many beautiful models, I can’t help but to compare my—

Tssuki had heard enough about your delusions. His hands flew the sides of your face, pulling you in for a deep kiss. You felt such a thrill surging through your body as he so easily hoisted you up.

It was your favorite thing in the world, to wrap your legs around his long torso, and it was Tssuki’s favorite thing to dig his hands into your firm ass, your soft thighs.

Pulling away, he takes slow steps forward so your back gently meets the wall. With one hand, he caressed your face , thumb gliding over your cheek before connecting his forehead with yours.

“As I was saying, - I don’t know why you hesitate to say it, but I think you’re the most beautiful person in this whole goddamn world.”

A pesky tear escaped onto your cheek, and Tssuki blotted it away with a kiss, burying his face closer to yours. So close your noses are now touching.

When he wanted to, Tssuki could be so completely soft.

“You don’t know every single person in this world.”

You laughed, still touched by his bold declaration.

“I mean it. Waking up to you every morning I think wow, I’m so lucky.”

He admits as you then break into another chuckle. “You’re so full of shit, that’s not the first thing you think of.”

Tssuki pulls on your lower lip down with his thumb, chuckling back. “You idiot sandwich I didn’t say it was the first thing, but it’s a close second.”

You find yourself laughing out loud, his frisky smile fully plastered on his face as your nose scrunches in that way he finds so fucking adorable.

“Begone negativity.” He both teases and shudders at the thought of how Suga burned that in the back of his mind.

“Do I have to sing that stupid One Direction song to you?” Tssuki then jokingly added as your eyes widened.

“You wouldn’t!”

“You’re right that’s disgusting.” He scoffed, hoisting you further up as he took your breath away with another kiss, this time, his hands running through your hair.

It was always a mystery with him, never knowing if he was going to pull on your hair, or caress it.

This time however, as his tongue slipped into your mouth, eager, you couldn’t help but to squeal. You had to give it to him, the man was great at multitasking. While he deepened the kiss, Tssuki tapped the melody of that dumb song on your thighs as if drumming.

"You're insecure, don't know what for, you're turning heads when you walk through the door / don't need makeup to cover up, being the way that you are is enough --

Everyone else in the room can see it

Everyone else but you

Baby, you light up my world like nobody else

The way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed

But when you smile at the ground, it ain't hard to tell

You don't know, oh, oh, you don't know you're beautiful."

Tssuki had really taken SMACK MY ASS LIKE A DRUM to a whole other level, and you couldn't even be mad about it.

"Having fun, ya happy doing that?" You teased as he now gave himself a quick rub, fully erect. Your man was so well endowed and that was both exciting and terrifying at times. While you loved dominant Tssuki, today he was a bit more mellow and less gimp man.

"Fuck, Kei-" You moaned as he slowly entered you, rubbing your clit with his thumb, the pressure just right. "I'm definitely having fun, in fact" he smirked as you moved down to slam yourself further into him, begging for more, "I'm happier than ever."

#haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu tsukishima #haikyuu!! #tsukishima x y/n #kei tsukishima #tsukishima x you #kuroo tetsuro oneshot #shoyo hinata #tsukishima fluff

[xingplytwelve]

𝒸𝒶𝓃'𝓉 𝑔𝑜 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀

NSFW Drabble: makin’ love, go all the way (inspired by Faded! stream it here) this probably should have been about chanyeol but I just kept thinking about zhang yixing I’m sorry

Pairing: Yixing x Reader

Genre/ AU: Slight Fluff, Smut, friends to lovers!AU

Word Count: 1.4k 

Yixing’s weight shifted entirely onto you, almost making you fall when his friends passed him over. Baekhyun then apologised to you for not being able to send him back tonight, which you said it’s fine. This is not the first time that yixing had gotten drunk, and that you had to send him back anyway. Usually baekhyun would have done so, but you would think that he would like to have his own fun at times too, rather than sending an almost dead drunk friend back home. What fun is it when it’s just the two man, furthermore intoxicated. You helped yixing over to the carpark as you searched his pockets in a hurry for his car keys, you just couldn’t wait to get him off you. Yixing giggled at the ticklish sensation, making him looked at you. You noticed his eyes, as you mumbled, ‘why on earth did you get so drunk, again.’ 

You had known yixing for the longest time, that you couldn’t even remember when did you met him exactly. Was it when you were 20? Has it been 10 years already? You really couldn’t recall. And over the period where you had known him, you wasn’t sure of your feelings towards him either. Both of you were attached from time to time, on and off, but you knew that if either one of you were in trouble, you’ll have each other’s backs. You’ve never voiced it out either, since you wasn’t sure yourself, and you clearly didn’t know what yixing thought too. But you guys had a pact though, a pact that will get y’all hitched to each other, if both of you were still single at 35. And that’s just in 5 years time. 

You finally found the keys to his Audi in his back pocket, yeah, what an awkward place to be digging into, right. You pushed him into the front seat, leaving his legs hanging outside as you tried to catch your breath. It seemed like yixing knew what was happening, and he had obediently shifted himself entirely into the seat before you could finally closed the door. You then got in and started the car, before checking whether yixing had his seatbelt on. And indeed, he didn’t. Wasn’t his habit to put on the seatbelt to begin with, but you made sure that he always had it on whenever you were driving him, and vice versa, much to his annoyance. You leaned over, attempting to put it on for him, but you felt his hands around your waist pulling you close, making you fall onto his chest. His breathing was heavy, and his chest felt so hard and warm, you were almost tempted to remain like that for a little more. But you pulled away quickly and managed a ‘what are you doing?’, before asking him to put the seatbelt on himself, which he complied, to your surprise. You then drove off quickly, heart still racing from what just happened. 

The roads at 4am were empty and quiet, as you drove back to his place in silence. You figured that yixing was probably asleep, since he wasn’t blabbering much. But he was very much awake in fact, and you only realised it when he placed his hand on your thighs, caressing it fondly. You were so taken aback by what he just did, that you stopped the car at the side of the highway. It was abnormal for anyone to be feeling so hot when the vehicle’s aircon was fully functional, but that’s just what yixing had been doing to you. You didn’t want to admit it, but the fact that your pulse was racing was telling you otherwise. You do like him. Yixing chuckled, as he undid your seatbelt, and his own, before attempting to hover himself over you. He was having a little difficulty in doing so, but was soon successful when he had lifted the lever of the car seat, making you fall backwards, and easier for him to be on top of you. Your hands were at his chest, ready to push him away anytime if you wanted to, as you asked, again, ‘what are you doing? you’re drunk, yixing. Now get off from - ’ And you were shut when he had landed his lips on yours. You could still taste the whisky in his mouth, but goddamn his kisses felt so good, addicting, and intoxicating, even. You could have gotten yourself drunk in them. He took one of your hands, interlocking his fingers with yours, like it was the most natural thing to do, and you couldn’t help but to release a few soft moans at how affectionate he was. 

He broke away for a breather, before whispering, ‘I want you, y/n. Regardless of whether I’m sober or drunk.’ You looked at him, dumbfounded, still not sure if it was the alcohol talking, or does he really meant what he said. As he leaned in for another kiss, a deeper, and one that’s filled with lust, you simply couldn’t be bothered anymore. Yixing had rested his body against yours, while he grinds his hips against your core slow and lazily, making you bit back a moan as you squirmed under him. You could feel his member hardening beneath those black, ripped jeans of his, those jeans that you wanted to pull off him so badly. ‘Fuck…’ you cursed, as you felt a pool of liquid escaping your core. ‘Hmm?’ Yixing mumbled with a tiny smirk, before removing his pants, just enough to release his length. You were looking at him all these while, and when his hard cock was exposed, you simply stared, so in need of it. You then shifted your attention to his handsome face when you felt a nudge, sort of asking if he can proceed with whatever he was doing. You gave him a light nod, as he started leaving wet kisses on you, hands slipping beneath your skirt and yanking off your soaked panties. He then pumped himself a few times, before filling you up with his thick cock. The sudden increase of adrenaline you felt in your bloodstream the moment he entered you had you going crazy, as you clutched onto his forearm. You felt so good with yixing inside you, thrusting away, so good that you were almost seeing stars. ‘You take me in so well, honey,’ yixing whispered in your ears, before giving it a playful nibble and started leaving sloppy kisses over you again. ‘Hnggg yixing,’ you moaned, and moaned, as yixing continued to grind, hitting your sweet spot with no trouble at all. ‘We’re made for each other, what took us so long?’ he said in between breaths, nuzzling his face with yours. You haven’t had the time to melt in that sweet statement of his as you grew closer to your high, and you could only begged for him to go faster. His movements were losing it’s original rhythm, and you knew he was probably close too. You squealed the moment you felt yourself dissolving within the pleasure that yixing had given you, and a few moments later, he was spilling all his loads inside you, before completely collapsing on you, making you breathless. 

The atmosphere of the dawn was pretty much filled with both of you still trying to catch your breaths while overcoming the state of being on cloud nine. You were the one to break the silence first, as you called while caressing his boyish black hair, ‘yixing?’ ‘Mm, yes honey?’ Yixing answered, as he planted a peck on your cheeks, making you smiled. Yixing apologised as he struggled to get back into the passenger’s seat the moment you told him he was heavy, which made you laugh a little, as you see him throwing himself back into the passenger seat after ages. He then interlocked his hand with yours, while using his free hand to put his pants back on. You laughed even harder at what he was trying to do, but yixing turned over and looked at you lovingly, so much that it made you embarrassed. You avoided his gaze, before saying, ‘you do realise that we can’t go back anymore, right?’ Yixing then placed both hands on your shoulders, getting you to look at him as he said, ‘Listen y/n, I only want to move forward with you from now, and not wait till 5 years later. We’ll go on proper dates, then I’ll proposed, we’ll get married, and build a family together. I don’t ever want to go back, honey.’ 

#exo fanfics #exosnet #exowritersnet #yixing smut #yixing x reader #yixing fanfiction #yixing drabble #yixing scenario #yixing #exo smut #layonyixing writes

[sewerpigeonart]

literally no one asked but that’s never stopped me before; my inhibitions are low bc i’ve been awake since 4am and idk if any of this is even going to make sense when anyone reads it but i want to talk about my 𝑓 𝑒𝑒 𝑙 𝑖 𝑛 𝑔 𝑠

having to choose between hawke and alistair in the fade is literally like the most stressful video game decision i have had to make—and actually, considering i’ve done alternate playthroughs where i choose each of them, i still technically haven’t “chosen” because it’s. so. hard.

if Loghain or Stroud are the warden, they’re obviously the expendable option because loghain has no rights and stroud simply isn’t a character the player was given the opportunity to emotionally invest in.  unless you make a specific party decision in da2, you never even meet him. but when it’s between alistair and hawke, now the emotional stakes are astronomical, because not only is it hard for me to pick on an emotional level, even when thinking in terms of narrative for each of these characters it’s hard to decide which is the better option.

we’re invested in both these characters; we traveled with alistair through origins and either romanced him or became his best friend through our wardens, our wardens with whom i think most players have also developed an emotional attachment to because they’re our own characters.  and hawke was our character in da2, and you could sort of “mold” him into one of three general personalities, he’s still a pretty strong character on his own, regardless of if he’s snarky or angry or benevolent.  and sort of opposite the case with alistair, we know that hawke’s friends are attached to him.

so now it’s down to the wire and you gotta pick one. there’s no other way out. it sucks. and i think on one hand i can actually appreciate that because it means the games did a good job of making me care about not only both of these characters themselves, but their impact on the characters around him.  when i think of sacrificing hawke, my mind at once goes to varric, the living hawke sibling, and the love interest.  with alistair, my mind goes to my warden, who in terms of the game itself isn’t a strongly defined character because like most custom protagonists a lot of the emotional investment comes from our own imaginations and projections. but in that regard it’s like the relationship to alistair is more personal to the player themselves, in my opinion.  when choosing who to sacrifice, i think about who is going to hurt.  i literally burst into tears when i played the hawke route and varric comes up to you in adamant and says, “where’s hawke?” like i fuckin lost it man lmao, and when you talk to him later and he tells you the story and they play hawke’s theme sadly in the background?????? im like im going to pass away now but ANYWAY

so not only do i think about the emotional consequences on hawke and alistair’s companions (and myself), i struggle to choose which option is better narratively. because i feel that both of them have a very strong reason to stay behind. for hawke it’s obvious: with corypheus, it’s personal—way more personal than it even is with the inquisitor who is meant to defeat him. it’s literally in hawke’s bloodline. not only did his father cage the magister, but hawke is assuming the responsibility of “releasing” corypheus upon the world. of course he would give up everything remain in the fade and deal this huge blow to corypheus. it’s more than playing hero, it’s about vengeance for him, and you could even say it’s about protecting his family, if his sibling is a warden and if you romanced anders, protecting him too.

alternatively with alistair: all through origins alistair is characterized as believing himself expendable. “i wish i had died instead of duncan, i’ll kill the archdemon so you don’t have to,” etc. and yes he is young and insecure in origins, and it’s clear when we see him again in inquisition or even the cameo in da2, we can see him more confident, more assured, capable of making his own decisions. but—and i acknowledge this is largely headcanon, but this whole post is explaining why it’s hard for me to choose—i think especially with the romanced hero of fereldan still alive, in that pivotal moment in the fade i would assume alistair would be thinking of her, sorry to leave her and knowing she’ll be hurt but confident she could be the capable hands the wardens would need to recover, even if she is sort of in the shadows by that time, i project that the HoF would assume a sense of duty in helping them recover, even from the background somehow if she insists on kind of staying in “hiding.”

i think characterwise, alistair is always going to have some degree of innate self-sacrifice, that when it comes down to it, he’ll be the one to take the blow. so it would make sense that in the fade, he’d say “no, hawke, you go,” maybe no longer from a place of lower self-esteem like in origins, but i think in his mind, especially since he’s literally been a fugitive from the wardens, he makes the decision in a fairly rational state of mind. he acknowledges the wardens have messed up, and maybe this sacrifice can even be the start to redeeming their honor because he cares such a great deal about them. even hawke changes his tone in the final moments, saying yeah the wardens fucked up but they’re not beyond saving. so even then i think alistair would take comfort in knowing whether it be hawke or the HoF or the Inquisitor or whoever, the wardens will be left in good hands.

i know a lot of the alistair stuff is more headcanon than anything, but going off my own world history with the games and my own role play ideas and stuff, these are the associations in my head and how i interpret the cost of his sacrifice alongside hawke’s.  and i’ve even tried jotting some fic ideas exploring so many different post-fade concepts depending on which was left behind to see if i could construct some mental narrative to help me “commit” to sacrificing one of them, and in honesty, i think in the end i would go with hawke, because even though it’s more of an immediately impactful death (VARRIC IM SO FUCKGIN SORRY), it is personal, and i think that motivation is beyond alistair’s more “honorable” motivation. i think alistair could be convinced to help the wardens before hawke could be convinced to step back and let someone else take care of corypheus “for him,” for lack of a better term.

HOWEVER. it may be wishful thinking in order to cope, but i would be willing to bet that in da4, we find out whoever was left in the fade is not dead after all, because if it is hawke you leave behind, or even with alistair, these are both two protagonists that would have rather unceremonious deaths. narratively, that’s kind of lame writing if we were to forgo the closure of their actual deaths. even in the choice tree it says the person will “most likely” die; in the cut scene as the inquisitor and the non-sacrificed character run toward the rift, you see in the background the other character fight the monster and hit the ground under an attack, but we don’t see an explicit “death.”  they are then, understandably, assumed dead.  but there’s no actual confirmation. and i don’t know the writing team personally, who am i to say they’re indisputably above this, but i would like to have enough faith in them to expect they would not commit to such an unsatisfying ending for that character’s story. even with a more “expendable” character like stroud, i think there’s too many questions left behind. 

the introduction of walking physically in the fade and surviving is a huge revelation in-game. it’s reiterated that that literally hasn’t happened since the first magisters entered the black city.  that’s ENORMOUS. and if they’re only going to explore that twice—or more like one and a half times because we get the vague opening cut scene of escaping the fade, then the adamant sequence—it again feels very inconsistent and sloppy. dorian even says that essentially once people realize it is possible to survive the fade physically, they are going to try it, however unwise and irresponsible.  i think the da4 teasers alone (i haven’t followed da4 updates very closely tbh bc i haven’t been able to play trespasser yet bc i only have a ps3 and i’m trying so hard not to get too spoiled beyond the main inquisition ending asjkfd) imply our experiences with the “real” fade are so far from over.  and thus, i feel “comfortable” leaving hawke in the fade because i would like to believe he’s going to come back. i mean, he’s hawke right? and if hawke’s character can come back, that would then further suggest if you left the warden in the fade, they would have to come back too for whatever the da4 narrative might be.

ok sorry this is rly long and disorganized im bad at communicating ideas effectively but i have been thinking about this lately way more than i care to admit lmao

#dragon age #dai #alistair theirin #dragon age 2 #da:i #inquisition #dragon age inquisition #da2 #bioware #da4 #dragon age hawke #grey wardens #warden alistair #dragon age alistair #alistair dragon age

[sickkillerzach]

Ex Gon' Give It To Ya

Everytime Gloria invited Javier over to see Manny, I knew it was bad news.

But she insisted every time he came over that "it's good for Manny to see his dad".

That all changed the most recent time he came to visit.

You see, he didn't just come to visit Manny.

He wanted to take Manny with him.

*************************************

There was a knock on the door. ugh I thought, Gloria's ex husband. I hate him.

She came rushing towards the door. I could tell she didn't enjoy his company, but obviously, she thought it was good for him.

But there was something rather odd about the way she looked. She always looked like she was dreading his very appearance at her house, but she looked, rather, nervous to open the door.

I stopped her dead in her tracks. "Gloria, sweetheart, you seem to be anxious about Javier's presence."

"I don't know. I just have this very strange feeling about inviting him over. I've had this feeling for a week, when I got the call from him. He sounded like he was up to no good." She replied.

He pounded on the door again, rude and impatiently.

"We'll be there in a second!" I yelled loudly, my Australian accent kicking in, as usual.

He stopped knocking.

"Well, he's already here, nothing we can do, let's just have him over to visit Manny, and he can leave, and that's it." I assured her.

I didn't want to say anything to her, as I saw the stress she was under, but I was very frustrated at her, and almost wanted to say "Well, had you listened to me, you wouldn't be here".

It was bad enough my friends never listen to me, but my soon to be fiance not listening to me is even worse.

I felt very hurt, but didn't say anything.

She went to the door and took a deep breath, and opened it.

"About damn time," he said "where the hell were you?" He asked, being very rude, again.

She ignored the question, and I came over and shook his hand. I did this every time he came over, but he was always rough with me. My hand was always red and sore afterwards, and sometimes he even squeezed so tightly, I could feel my pulse in my hand.

Manny walked over and hugged his father.

He even looked concerned, almost as if he was sharing the same feeling his mother was.

Javier gave him a very weird looking grin, like he was up to something.

Was Gloria's strange feelings, that may have been shared with Manny, meaning something more than we thought?

*************************************

Everything seemed to be normal. He gave Manny a gift, as always (which bothered me, because it was like he was trying to compete with me, but I'm always going to be the better father), he ate dinner, chatted with us, the usual things he would do.

However, when he left, that bad feeling started to settle on me.

was he up to something? I thought, and what was with that grin he kept giving Manny? He kept staring him down.

*************************************

That night when we settled on the bed, I had nothing on but a pair of boxer shorts, and Gloria had on one of her nightgowns. Everything seemed to be usual. Usual day, usual night, the only thing different was that Javier was over.

So I thought.

In the middle of the night, I had to take a piss. This was normal, as I frequently had to urinate in the middle of the night.

But something was off.

I never noticed how creepy Gloria's house looked in the dark. It was a beautiful house, but right now, it looked creepy.

I wanted a light source, but didn't want to awake Gloria, so, I grabbed my Rick and Morty Portal Gun, put it on silent, and made it so that the light stayed on until I shut it off, rather than turning off automatically.

And as an extra comfort source, I grabbed my Raichu plushie from the bed.

Gloria turned over a little bit, but didn't wake up from me getting my Raichu, and Portal Gun.

I walked across the hall, and went to the bathroom, which was right next to Manny's room, which was right next to Joe's room.

I went in, and set my gun and plushie on the counter right next to the toilet, and lifted the seat up, and did my business. I couldn't help but feel this strange feeling overwhelming me, the same feeling I was getting while Javier was over, but worse.

Way worse.

Once I got done in the bathroom, I grabbed my Portal Gun, and Raichu, and continued walking towards our bedroom.

But the feeling was getting worse as I walked away from the hallway.

For whatever reason, I checked in Manny's room.

good, he's just in his bed, snoring away I thought to myself.

what the hell was I thinking? He was gonna be missing or something?

I went back up to the bedroom, set down the portal gun on to the the dresser, turned it off, set Raichu back on the bed, covered back up, and went back to bed.

*************************************

At around 4AM, there was a loud noise throughout the house. It woke both me and Gloria up.

"What was that?" I asked her, rhetorically.

"I don't know, we should go downstairs and see." She replied.

As I walked through the bedroom door, I sensed the same feeling I had while in the bathroom.

We walked down the stairs, where the noise sounded like it came from, and there was nobody there.

I could hear Joe crying upstairs about something.

"I'll get him, you keep looking." She said as she ran back up the stairs.

I kept looking around until I heard the words come out of Joe's mouth.

"Manny's dad came and got him."

"What?" I said back.

"Yeah, he came and took him. I couldn't say anything because he had a gum at my head." He replied, obviously mistaking "gun" for "gum". I always thought it was so cute when Joe talked like a child.

"What kind of wanker points a lethal weapon at a child?" I said.

"Oliver, we've got to go save Manny." Gloria told me, which was the obvious thing to do.

I put on my tan leather jacket, black sweatpants, while Gloria put on her red sweater, and brown skinny jeans.

We made sure to have pockets to hold our guns.

"Let's see here," I started listing off all the guns we had in our gun safe. "Thompson? Nah, that'd jam too much. BAR? Too heavy. We're only killing one guy after all. SPAS-12? That's-" Gloria interrupted.

"Will you just hurry up already? We don't know what Javier could be doing at this moment, I'll just be taking the Glock." She told me.

"Fine, I'll just take the PPSH-41, and the 1911."

We put Joe in the backseat of the car, and were on our way to that dickhead Javier's house.

I wanted to tell Gloria that I knew that inviting him over was a bad idea, but chose not to, as I didn't want to put more stress on her, or even worse, cause an argument. After all, there was a lot of tension.

I started to notice how much of a bad idea it was to put the PPSH on my back, as it started to hurt with the carseat right up against it.

Too late to take care of it now.

The closer we got to the house, the faster I started driving.

*************************************

When we finally arrived at the house, we started loading up our guns.

"Papi, just stay here while me and daddy take care of something-" I interrupted her.

"Look, the kid understands what we're doing, no need to sugarcoat it, let's get moving, and take down this cunt, and save our son." Gloria wasn't fond of me swearing in front of Joe, however, I made it up to her by calling Manny "our son", despite me just being his step-father.

We began to walk towards the front door, and I knocked on it, very hard.

I could hear him screaming something in Spanish that I couldn't quite understand.

"Who the fuck is it? And what the fuck do you want?" He yelled in English, this time I understood him.

I tried my best to hide my Australian accent, and said "mail service!"

Gloria stared at me deeply as if she was saying "what the hell is wrong with you?"

"Mail at 5AM?" He replied.

"Told you so." She said, despite not saying anything beforehand.

I gave her the same look she gave me.

I scratched my beard and mustache as I thought of what to say next.

"We're working the nightshift." I finally said, but became concerned as my accent was a teeny bit audible, and because that's obviously not convincing.

"No mail guy comes at-" I interrupted him.

"Goddamnit Javier just open the fucking door!" Gloria gave me an even darker look, as if she was saying "now what's your plan genius?".

"Oliver? What are you doing here?" He asked, trying to sound surprised.

"You know why, give us Manny, and nobody gets hurt." Gloria finally spoke.

"I don't have Manny? What are you talking about?"

I whispered to Gloria, "let's start shooting at the door, then he'll have to open."

She nodded, as in confirmation.

I pulled out the 1911, and she pulled out her Glock, and we started firing shots.

He started yelling in Spanish again. The only thing I could understand was "ay dios mio".

"You brought guns? What the fuck? Okay, I'll open the door, just stop firing!" He said, as he walked over.

I pulled out the PPSH from my back, and put the 1911 back in my jacket pocket.

When he opened the door, I hit him with the butt of the gun.

"You fucking son of a bitch, give us the kid right now!" I yelled as I pointed the sub machine gun at his forehead.

"I dont have him! I told you." He replied.

Just then we heard a scream, coming from, what sounded like a teenage boy.

Gloria and I turned to each other.

"That confirms it." She said.

"Guess it's time to waste this wanker." Just then he pulled out his P-99 from his jeans pocket and stared firing shots. Gloria and I immediately took cover behind his walls at the side of his house. Unfortunately, we were on the opposite sides, making us separated.

He quickly reloaded, and continued shooting.

I nodded at Gloria silently, and then moved my head in the direction of the back of the house. She seemed to get the idea.

We met up at the back, and just before we started discussing the plan, we looked in the window.

Manny was in the chair, tied up, his back turned to us.

"There's Manny. Alright, here's the plan. You run in and get Manny from the chair, I'll shoot this cunt in the leg, and then we'll have some fun with him afterwards." I told her, she didn't say anything, but rather smiled, and nodded.

"That sounds good to you?" I asked, just to confirm with her, despite she clearly agreed.

"Ye-" She began, but then was interrupted by something she saw. Her eyes widened, and looked as if she was about to piss her pants.

I heard a click.

"He's right behind me, isn't he?" I asked rhetorically, knowing the answer.

"Well, it seems you shouldn't have came here, doesn't it?" He said, as he started to hold me by my neck, making me drop my PPSH.

I thought quickly of what to do, and the kicked him right in his balls.

I picked up the gun from the ground, and shot him right in his kneecap.

"Get Manny from the house, I'll take this wanker in with you." She nodded and ran to the door. She didn't go in though, and waited for me to go to the door, and opened it for me.

"Thanks." I said. I gave her a slight kiss on the cheek, just to piss off Javier.

He started yelling in Spanish, for the third time.

I noticed he was bleeding a lot, and it seemed he was hanging on to conciousness. I set him down on the ground, and put pressure on his wound.

"Oh, buddy, you can't die now, we're just getting started." I told him.

I took a look over at Manny, and he looked horrible. He had blood all over his legs and face, and it even looked like he pulled out a few teeth.

This angered me more than I thought it would.

"I see you did a lot worse damage than I thought you did." I said to Javier, as he started making grunting sounds.

Gloria kissed Manny on his forehead, and hugged him tightly, and said something in Spanish to him.

That's what I loved about Gloria, she was such a soft mom.

She took him to the car, and walked back in.

We grabbed Javier, and put him in the chair.

"You are now about to witness the strength of street knowledge." I told him as we tied him up.

Gloria looked at me, as she got the reference.

"What are you talking about? You don't have any "street knowledge", the both of you don't". He said.

"Really? You don't get the reference? Straight Outta Compton, by N.W.A.? Niggaz With Attidues?" I asked.

"I don't listen to that garbage you call "rap music"." He said back.

I gasped. "How dare you disrespect the legacy of Dre, Ice Cube, Eazy-E, and everyone else in N.W.A." "That's it." And I grabbed my phone, and played the song.

He screamed, clearly hating it.

"If this is bothering you, holy shit, you're not ready for anything that's about to happen next." I said.

Gloria seemed annoyed. She wasn't very fond of rap herself, but she tolerated it when I was around.

I grabbed my wrench from the trunk of the car, and sang along with the lyrics.

"Straight Outta Compton, crazy motherfucker named Ice Cube."

I started banging the wrench on his legs to the beat of the song.

Gloria, while not being fond of the song, was clearly amused at me beating him to the song.

She then came around and started shooting at his feet.

"Oh God, please stop!" He cried out in pain.

I then grabbed a pair of pliers and pulled out his fingernails.

He continued to cry out in pain.

He was clearly close to death, and so I quickly stopped the song, and put my phone back in my pocket.

I then grabbed the lighter from his cigarette packet, lit up a cigarette, while Gloria grabbed the jerry can from the trunk, and poured gasoline on him. I didn't smoke the cigarette, as I'm not a smoker, but I threw the cigarette on top of him, burning him. We quickly ran out of the house, and got in the car. I started driving back to our house.

"Well, now that that's done, Manny, are you okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, I'm in a lot of pain, but nothing too serious." He replied.

"That's good. But just know, he won't hurt you anymore, now that we took care of him. We'll get you cleaned up at home, and everything is gonna be okay. Can you walk okay? He hit you pretty hard on the legs."

"I can walk fine, it hurts a bit, but I'm fine, you guys came just before he can do anything worse."

"I'm sorry about that kiddo, but he's been taken care of by us." I said.

"Thanks dad." He said.

My face lit up when he said that.

"Did-did you just call me dad?" I asked happily.

"Well, my real dad is nothing to me now, so you're really the real dad I have."

For over two years, he had only called me Oliver, and for the first time, he called me dad.

"I love you son." I told him.

"I love you too." He replied.

"Dad."

Gloria was smiling really hard when she heard this.

I then pulled out my phone.

"Hey Google, play Real Muthaphuckin' G'z by Eazy-E." I told the phone.

"Okay, starting song." The phone said back.

"Oh God." Gloria said as she sighed deeply.

We drove home safely, cleaned off Manny's wounds, and went back to bed after a long exhausting night.

The police came the next day, asking questions about the situation, and Manny showed the officer his injuries.

We were let off scott free, and everyone was happier after that.

#modern family #fandom #fanfiction #fanfic #gloria delgado pritchett #gloria pritchett #manny delgado #joe pritchett #modern family fanfic #what's this? #i drew a fanart and wrote a new fanfic all in the time span of two weeks? #that's insane

[writingformadderton]

Still

Ship: Madderton

Word Count: 9019

Summary: Rich and T had been in different countries for a while now, both dealing with it differently. One night those differences lead to terrible mistake of Richard who regrets it deeply, but Taron isn’t able to forgive him just yet...

Additional Tags: tw: mention of panic attacks, breakup, cheating, Elton, angst, fluff

Requested via chat by: @queenmerabby

Kinda based on the songs “Bend the rules”, “Dear Patience” and “Still” by Niall Horan

------

Taron missed Richard with his whole heart. He hated being away from him and not having him right by his side. But Richard had to work in Los Angeles, on the other side of the ocean. Taron has a job in London right now, able to work from home and usually he loves that.

But coming home tiredly after a long day with no one who greets him, wraps him in a tight hug and helps him to shower before crashing in bed and not the other way around is horrible. Without Richard, Taron came home late and often fell asleep on the sofa, his dinner on the table only half eaten, and wakes up late remembering he still has to get a shower. It was a mess and he hates it.

It was never easy for Taron to be parted because he missed Richard so much that it hurt. He was needy for his cuddles, he missed his voice, his laugh and their lazy days. He missed fooling around with him, dancing through the living room late at night and exchanging cheesy nonsense. And the worst thing was that Taron missed being self-confident without him. T was in constant need of reassurance and getting told he did nothing wrong when something didn't go as it should have.

He steps out of the shower and looks at the clock seeing that it's already 4am. Taron groans and quickly rubs his hair with a towel looking down at his phone. It was 8pm now in LA, he could give it a go and try to reach Richard.

Richard looks up confused when he hears Tarons signature melody ringing. He grabs his phone and takes the call. "Hey." he says.

"Hey." T says and makes himself comfortable in bed.

"You're alright?" Richard asks startled as he calculated the time difference. "You should be sleeping, T, it's 4am." he chuckles softly.

"Yeah, I know." T sighs and rubs his face. "I'm just missing you, I guess."

Rich smiles at that and can imagine him cuddled up in bed. "I miss you too." he says. Hearing how tiny and tired Tarons voice sounded wrenched his heart. "You wanna talk until you fall asleep?" he offers.

"I don't wanna distract you from what you're doing. Just wanted to say hi." Taron admits and rolls onto his side looking at Richard's empty side of the bed.

Richard leans back in the sofa and shakes his head. "You're my boyfriend, bubs, I always have time for you." Richard insists and hears T chuckling.

"How long until you're back?" Taron asks and curses at himself. He keeps on forgetting it.

"A week and then I'll be home for two weeks before going back." Richard states and smiles a bit. That was so typically Taron, forgetting this stuff.

"Phew still a week." he groans and rolls onto his back. Richard was already gone for three months. "Greet your mate Max from me, yeah?"

"I will." Rich says smirking. He moved in with his former roommate from college again when he got told he'd have to work for quite some time in Los Angeles. His friend just grinned and said he can stay with him.

They keep on talking until Taron fell asleep and Richard keeps his phone close on speaker for another few minutes, making sure he really is asleep, before ending the call.

 -

Taron's alarm blasts through their apartment at 6:30 am. He whines softly and reaches out for his phone growling. This would be such a shitty day.

He gets up slowly, his world is spinning as he stumbles over to the bathroom. Taron turns the shower cold, shivering underneath it but feeling himself getting a bit more awake. He texts Richard a sweet message and gets one back pretty soon.

Downstairs in the kitchen, he makes some coffee and curses as the cup falls down, making his clothes and the floor full of it. Taron quickly cleans up the mess, makes a new one and rushes back to the bedroom to get some new clothes, throwing the other ones onto the floor in the bathroom. He was late and had to deal with that later. Back in the kitchen he burns his tongue with the hot coffee and whines. "Fuck!" he growls.

His day continues being as shitty as it started. He messes up a scene, forgets his lines and destroys a costume during the shoot. Driving home he gets stuck in traffic and he just wants to cry, frustration welling up.

Stepping inside their apartment he wants to do nothing more than hide in Richard's arms and have a good cry. When he realizes he'll be on his own again, he feels the tears falling down his cheeks and he just falls into his bed. Reaching for his phone he dials Richard's number but gets disappointed when he doesn't take the call.

Almost three hours later Richard calls him back. "Hey, sorry, luv. I was attending to a dinner and then we went to a bar, didn't hear my phone."

"S'alright." T says and stares out of the window. "Why were you having a dinner at 3pm?!" he asks confused.

"Don't ask me, they set it then." Rich chuckles. "Why are you still up? It's already 2am again, you're gonna be wrecked tomorrow."

"I already am." T sighs and bites his lower lip. "I had a really shitty day and wanted to talk to you about it."

"I'm sorry I missed your call." Richard apologizes and presses his other ear closed, the music blasting through the bar. "You're better now?"

"Not really." Taron says and feels himself getting slightly irritated. What the heck was Rich doing that he seemed so absent, normally he didn't even had to explain it and Richard could hear it in his voice.

"I'd love to talk to you about it but Max is so fucking drunk right now, I have to get him back to the apartment." Rich says and sees Max stumbling towards him.

"At 6pm, congrats." Taron scoffs and rolls his eyes.

"Jus' let me help him sober up and I'll talk to you tomorrow when I can fully focus on you."

"Oh sure, fine." he says annoyed.

"Come on, don't be mad now. I promise I'll call you and-." he stops himself when Max stands close in front of him.

Taron’s eyes widen when he can hear a sound that definitely shouldn't leave Richards lips as long as he wasn't around him. Rich moans and he can clearly hear someone kissing. "Rich-." and then the call ends. What the fuck did just happen?

 -

Richard doesn't call him the next day, too caught up in thoughts about what he did. How should he ever tell Taron that? After three days, he hasn’t heard anything from T and decides to call him. Taron takes it after a while and doesn't say anything. "Hey, how are you?"

"Seriously?" he asks and stops to search his keys in his pocket.

"Yeah?" Rich asks slowly. He knows what he did, he knows he fucked up with not calling him.

"After three days you call me, when you promised me to call me on the next day. And then you're just asking how I am? What the fuck, Rich?" Taron spits out annoyed and turns around the key, slamming the door behind him aggressively.

"T, I'm so sorry. I was…I’m sorry, love. Really." he says and rubs his face. Fuck.

"Yeah whatever." Taron just says and kicks off his shoes. "At least one of us can afford to get drunk at 6pm."

"Hey, come on, I wasn’t drunk!" Rich protests. "You know I'm working my ass off and it was just one evening. I was out, not drunk."

"Mm." T hums and rolls his eyes. "Hope you had fun." and with that he ends the call and bites his lower lip. He was clearly hurt by Richard’s behavior and especially because of the end of the call, he still doesn't know what happened.

 -

Two days later, Richard comes home with mixed up feelings. He was looking forward to be back home and spend some time with his boyfriend, but he wasn't sure if Taron would be happy to see him. Especially not when he’d share the news of what he did.

Walking around in the apartment, he figures that Taron wasn't here and he sighs a bit at the mess. Some dirty dishes in the kitchen, some laundry on the floor in the bathroom and his script all over the living room floor. "Jesus, T." he sighs annoyed and starts cleaning up the mess.

When Taron comes back home later in the day, Richard gets confronted with how shitty he was feeling for the first time. He has dark circles underneath his eyes, is pale and his eyes are reddish. His hair is a mess and he looks immensely tired. Probably lost some weight. "Hey." he says low voiced.

"Hey." Taron mumbles and avoids his look.

No enthusiastic and excited greeting then. Richard sighs a little and steps closer to him. "You're okay?" Taron just shakes his head and stares down at the floor. "Come on, T." Rich says and carefully lifts his head by placing his fingers underneath his chin. He sees the tears in his eyes and bites his lip. "What's wrong?"

"I'm just fucking tired. Of everything." he says and shrugs his shoulders. "I'm tired of sleepless nights, messed up shoot, being alone and you pissing me off."

"Listen, I'm sorry because of what happened but you can't keep on being mad at me because of that." Richard sighs.

"Oh, can't I?" he asks and lets out a dark laugh.

"Seriously, you're behaving like a child now." he growls and rolls his eyes. "Yes I was out and couldn’t be there for you properly. But you've been that way as well before."

"But not when you needed me!" Taron bursts out.

"You want me to be mad at you for not cleaning up your mess as well now? Because that's the exact same nonsense." Rich answers pissed. He didn’t want to imagine how pissed Taron would be later.

"My mess." Taron nods slowly. "You mean the laundry that was too less to put into the machine and the script I was working on in the living room?"

"Forgot the dishes." Rich adds.

Taron shakes his head at him and walks past by him. "Seriously, fuck off! I was working all day and then falling into bed at 11pm just to have a sleepless night and get up after two hours of sleep again." T gets himself a glass of water in the kitchen. "I don't have the time to get drunk and have fun and I don't have time to clean everything up. I barely have time for myself at the moment." he spits out sour.

Richard leans in the door frame and folds his arms in front of his chest. "I wasn’t drunk, I can only repeat myself. So what’s going on?”

"What?"

"Seriously, what's wrong? I know you're having a hard time but putting that shit on me isn't fair. Being overworked and overwhelmed doesn't justify being harsh to me now." Richard states and watches him with cold blue eyes. "So what the fuck made you that upset, because you don't have to tell me it was me taking care of my mate?"

“Taking care of him, yeah that’s one way to put it.” he spits out sourly and Richard swallows hard. Taron looks down at the floor for a moment and it gets very quiet in the kitchen. "You're sleeping with him?"

"What?" Richard asks quietly.

"You heard me." T sighs. "The more time you were there the less you cared about me."

Richard watches him for a moment. “He’s a friend.” he says, which wasn’t a lie. Max was a friend.

"Fine." Taron says and shrugs his shoulders. "Then please tell me why kissing him made you moan so satisfied. Tell me why you're kissing him while you're having me on the phone." his voice is shaking hard now and he feels tears burning in his eyes. Richard says nothing and just watches him.  "That's an answer too." he whispers and nods slowly.

Richard rubs his face and groans. “I…I did something dumb.”

Taron looks at him and his stomach twists in pain. Did he really-? Panic settles in and all the past weeks come back to him, overwhelm him and he feels his chest getting tight. "Tell me you didn’t do that.” he whispers.

“I’m- Taron…I didn’t want to…” he searches for words but knows nothing will justify what he did. Nothing.

"You fucking asshole.” Taron presses out, tears spilling down his cheeks and he sees Richard’s eyes filling with tears. “Get out. Right now, I don’t wanna hear anything about it.”

“Taron, please, let me-.” he tries.

Taron sinks down on the stairs and buries his face in his hands. “Get the fuck out of here before I lose my mind.” he presses out and exhales shakily. He hears Richard leaving after a moment and presses his hand in front of his mouth. The panic takes over and he starts sobbing trying to calm down but he simply can't. It was over. Richard cheated on him and he doesn’t know why. What did he do wrong?

 -

Taron gets up groaning and turns off his alarm. He gets underneath the shower, drinks his coffee and drives to work. He arrives on set, gets into his costume and then has to sit in the make-up trailer for a while. They need to cover up the dark patches underneath his eyes, his cheeks that are irritated from all the tears and cover his wound nose. He feels as awful as he looks, and he can’t believe he’s been doing this for weeks now.

It’s almost two months after their break-up and Taron is completely messed up. He couldn’t sleep, ate way too less and forgot to drink water most of the time. He tries to concentrate on his job, knowing shooting this film is the only purpose he has right now. Richard and Taron haven’t talked since the day after their fight when they broke up. Not a single word from him.

But the issue that comes with dating an actor is that he’s in the eye of the public constantly. Wherever Taron goes, it seems like Richard never leaves his side. He sees him on the movie posters, in advertisements, and it seems like he can’t get away from him. Like a constant reminder that they fucked up and weren’t together anymore.

“How are you feeling?” his stylist asks him with a compassionate smile.

Taron just smirks a bit and shrugs his shoulders. “I’m alright.”

“You know we’re worried about you.” she says as she styles his hair. “You look terribly pale and messed up.”

“I am.” Taron agrees and nods slowly avoiding looking at himself in the mirror. It would only face him with the harsh reality once more.

“Taron, everyone would understand if you’d take a break, you know.” she says carefully, not knowing how he would react.

“I’m nothing without my job at the moment but thank you.” he says and smiles at her bravely.

“Just be careful, eat something, drink and sleep enough.” she answers and finishes his look. “I bet Richard feels the same way.”

“I doubt that.” he just says. It was him that broke up, not Richard. It was him who refused to talk about it and just wanted his peace and be alone figuring things out. If he had only known how much he would regret that.

“You wanna see it?” she asks and he raises his eyebrows as she gets out her phone.

 -

Richard is on his press tour at the moment and he hates it. Most of the people aren’t asking him stuff about the movie, the shooting process or anything about the chemistry on set. They are asking him about Taron, why they haven’t been seen so much together anymore for almost half a year now since he left for shooting. They ask about a possible break-up, the reasons for that or other reasons that they don’t spend time together.

Rich tries to stay polite, telling them he won’t talk about it, he doesn’t wanna answer it. But deep inside, the wounds get ripped open over and over again. Every time he thinks he healed a bit, they tear down his walls, rip him open and make him bleed again. Every time he realizes once more what he did and how he destroyed them.

He hopes so bad that today it will be different. The first half an hour it is and he’s glad about it, relaxing and opening up. But then it comes.

“Your boyfriend Taron hasn’t been seen for a while on your side now. Are you still together?” a interviewer asks him and he bites back a groan.

“I don’t know why anyone besides him and me should know that.” he simply answers.

“Why haven’t you been together recently?”

“Work.” Rich simply says and looks down at his hands annoyed. Just shut the fuck up, he thinks to himself.

“Any comment on-?”

Richard waves him off and shakes his head. “Is there anyone who has questions that are not about Taron but about why we are actually here?” he asks and looks around. No one answers. “Great, then we’re done.” he says and gets up leaving the room quickly.

 -

“When was that?” Taron asks startled and looks at her after watching the short clip from the press conference.

“Yesterday.” she answers. “You see, you’re not the only one who’s suffering.” she softly pats his back.

Taron gets up nodding and takes a deep breath. “Alright, I’ll have to work.” he says, his voice slightly shaking. Outside he rubs his face tiredly and groans. Richard looked tired and not really present with his thoughts. He takes out his phone and considers texting him but decides against it. He has his own shit to deal with.

 -

Richard opens the door to Brandon’s apartment and kicks off his shoes frustrated. Richard had to return for work to Los Angeles and decided to stay with his dear friend, not wanting to return to Max. He walks into the living room and falls down onto the sofa next to him, resting his head on his shoulder.

“Rough day?”

“Mm, I’m sick of this press tour.” he mumbles and closes his eyes.

“I’m sorry, mate. They’ll stop sooner or later.” Brandon assures him and fondles his shoulder comfortingly.

“I just want them to shut up and stop throwing his name at me over and over again. It’s gonna drive me crazy one day.” Richard groans and shakes his head frustrated. “Sometimes I hate my job so much.”

“We all do.” he sighs.

 -

Taron presses the doorbell anxiously and seesaws on his toes. Elton invited him over this afternoon to catch up a bit and get his head off of the things going on. David opens the door and greets him with a hug, then their boys come and greet him happily.

Elton takes him with him onto the balcony and they sit down in the sun. He watches the younger man in front of him and realizes he is in a really bad place and an even worse state of mind. “How are you?”

“I’m alright.” Taron says and realizes how monotone this answer became for him. Just say you’re alright and people won’t ask more.

“Be honest with me.” Elton says seriously with a compassionate smile. “I can see you’re far from alright.”

Taron laughs weakly and nods slowly. “I’m trying, Elton.” he leans back in the chair and tries to avoid Elton’s knowing and observant look.

“When was the last time you ate?” he asks suddenly.

Taron gets a bit surprised by the question and thinks about it. Yeah, when did he eat something? God, that must have been two days ago or so. “I don’t know honestly.” he admits and scratches his neck embarrassed.

Elton gets up and comes back with some sandwiches and water. “You should seriously drink and eat something.”

They sit there in silence, eating their sandwich and drinking nothing but water. Taron stares onto his knees and can’t believe he didn’t eat for whole two days. And his last meal must have been a forced one, going for lunch with the crew on set.

“Listen, mate, how are you really? Because you look like shit, I’m sorry, and you lost some weight.” Elton says.

Taron looks at him stunned, once more surprised how he could balance his honesty and compassion that good. He bites his lower lip and looks down at the glass of water he's holding tightly. "How am I?" he lets out a long deep breath and looks up at him. "If I'm being honest I don't feel like myself lately. It seems like I'm living in a bubble, getting up, taking a shower, working till late at night on set, going home, repeat." he braces his head on his hand and stares down into the water glass. "I feel sick because I know he's missing in my life. And when I come back home I just really wanna have him near and then I remember he isn't." Taron sighs. "Which leads to me crying my eyes out usually. I wonder if I ever won't have enough tears to cry anymore." he giggles softly and shakes his head. "I feel awful."

"That's what I was thinking. You don't have to pretend to be alright, Taron. No one will judge you for feeling bad." Elton assures him.

T tucks his legs up and nods slowly. "It's been almost two months now, you know. I should move on and -." he cuts himself off when his voice starts shaking. Not that shit again.

"And you two have been together for five years before." Elton says and sees tears welling up in Tarons eyes. "You two were happy and no one gets over that in only two months. You think it would have been real then?"

"No." he admits and blinks. Was it really real though? With Richard cheating on him he wasn’t so sure anymore.

"Taron, darling, it's okay to feel bad about it. It really is. And you don't have to go through it alone." Elton leans forward and pats his knee lovingly. "David and I talked about it and we would offer you to stay here with us and the boys. So I can keep an eye on you and you wouldn't be alone." he states and sees Tarons face soften.

"That's really sweet." he answers and smiles at him. "But I wanna finish this film before, it's only one week left." he explains and looks back at him. "But I would love to take your offer after it."

"That's a deal then." Elton says and nods satisfied. "But you'll have to promise me to take care of yourself until then."

"I will." he says with a brave smile.

 -

But, Taron goes on as before and feels himself getting more miserable and weaker as days pass by. He knows he should stop working so hard and get some sleep. He knows he needs some proper food and drink enough. But it simply doesn't work and on Friday Taron stumbles onto set, feeling like shit.

He nearly falls down as he steps inside and can hold himself up in the last second. His stylist watches him suspiciously but decides to say nothing.

Taron sinks into the chair and bites his lower lip nervously. He felt sick, his body was screaming at him suffering from the hunger, and his stomach was aching in cramps.

When they’re done, T gets up and feels his body getting hot. He gets dizzy and his world starts spinning, the sickness increases and there's a loud high tone in his ears. Taron feels like throwing up and stumbles towards the bathroom.

The next thing he can remember is waking up next to his stylist on the floor. He groans and presses his eyes shut, his dizziness still present. "What happened?" he groans.

"You just passed out." she explains and puts her phone aside. "Stay down, I've called an ambulance." she says firmly and pushes him back down. "God, T, you really need to take care of yourself."

"Yeah, I'm sorry." he apologizes and growls softly as she helps him resting his head on her knees.

 -

Taron stares at the ceiling bored before his eyes wander back to the IV that's stuck in his hand. The diagnosis was easy to make, he’s malnourished. Combined with too little sleep and emotional downs, it was predictable that his body would give up one day.

He had told his mum and Elton who both told him to rest and get better. Now he's bored, his busy life suddenly stopped and he doesn't know what to do with himself. "That's exactly the reason why I needed my work." he groans and rubs his face tiredly. He turns onto his side and suddenly the IV starts beeping loudly. "Fuck!" he curses and presses the button to call the nurse. She comes in laughing and he contorts his face. "I'm so sorry!"

"It's alright." she says and unwinds everything again before leaving.

Suddenly his phone buzzes and he can't believe seeing it's from Richard.

 Hey, I heard you passed out on set today. Hope you're feeling better now and can get some rest.... Take care, okay? - Rich

Doing my best, thanks for checking up on me. - T

He thinks for a moment before deciding to type more.

I'm sorry about the press stuff, must be annoying. - T

It is, but I'll get through it. - Rich

 Taron smiles a bit and puts his phone aside. His smile fades when he remembers that Richard was just being polite and it still was over between them. He pulled the blanket up to his face and closed his eyes. Just try to relax, you'll be okay one day.

- 

Richard puts his phone aside letting out a deep breath. Texting Taron had been a risk and he didn't know how he would react to it. He had been biting his lip nervously as soon as he sent him the text message. Fortunately, it went well.

Even though this short exchange only made him think about Taron intensely again. Thinking about them as a couple and having such lovely and happy times. Everything went down to shit and both of them knew who was to blame for it. At least there they had the same opinion.

When Taron told him he wanted to break up, it was a shock and felt like he stabbed him right into his chest. His brain tried to proceed the information it just got but he couldn't come up with a better answer than "If you think so." which made Taron only angrier and more upset than he already was. It made him look like he didn't even care and that felt even worse for himself afterwards. Of course he would break up.

He sighs and rubs his face tiredly. Imagining Taron in hospital, probably connected to an IV, scared him. He never liked seeing him feeling miserable or being sick when he wasn't around the whole time. Richard was the type of person that becomes overprotective then. How should he be able to focus on everything going on at the moment now?

Richard grabs his drink and downs it in one gulp, contorting his face as the alcohol burns in his throat. He stares at the glass in his hand and wonders how much of them he had over the past two months. It became his way to cope with everything.

 -

In the evening, he finds himself in a nightclub, the music blasting into his ears, his head spinning from all the drinks he had. If he was totally honest with himself he hated being drunk. He missed Taron, who always kept it at a good level for both of them.

And as usually he feels himself getting touchy with all the alcohol in his veins. It never had been different and ended quite messy sometimes with Taron. But now he wasn’t here and even though the sane part of his brain screams at him not to do it, he gives in when some random guy approaches him and starts flirting.

But Richard is lonely, needy for some company and this time he wanted to get his head off Taron. The time with Max he was just tensed up and needed something steady. He finds himself in a corner of the room, kissing the guy, sooner than he expected. Rich tastes his lips and moans at the contact, pressing himself close to him. He totally blends out the rest of the world and it doesn’t matter until he’s pressed against the bathroom wall. When the strangers hand wanders down between them Richard opens his eyes again and suddenly it hits him. What the fuck was he doing?

“Okay, stop.” he says and stops him carefully.

The man in front of him just smirks and shrugs his shoulder. “We already gave them enough.”

“What?” he asks confused and rubs his face trying to understand what he means.

He leans in and whispers into his ear, “All they wanted was a kiss so they could finally publish the headline that you’re not in a relationship anymore.” He pulls back and grins. “Have a nice evening.”

Richard feels himself getting sick and his world starts turning. He barely recognizes him leaving the room and sinks down. “Fuck.” he breathes out and tears are welling up in his eyes. Without fully realizing what he’s doing he pulls out his phone and dials Taron’s number.

 -

Taron wakes up confused when he hears his phone ringing and once more he’s glad he’s having a room for himself. Especially when he sees that it’s Richard. He thinks for a moment and decides to take the call. “Richard?” he asks and his voice sounds raspy, it’s 5am.

“Taron, I just did something stupid.” Richard says and his voice is shaking heavy.

Taron can hear the anxiety in his voice and his stomach twists. “What happened?” he asks worried.

Rich takes a deep breath and bites his lower lip. “I’m sorry, I’m such an idiot and I wanted to tell you before someone else does.”

“That you’re an idiot?” Taron asks confused and frowns. “Are you drunk?”

“No-yes. But that’s not the problem.” he says and leans back in the seat of his car.

The Welsh sits up in his bed and puts the pillows against the headboard so he can lean against them. “Okay, calm down, where are you?”

“Right now I’m in my car.” Richard answers and takes another deep breath to calm himself down.

“Driving?” Rich mumbles a no and T nods. “Okay. So, what’s going on?” And then he hears Richard sniffing and his heart wrenches at that sound. “Rich?”

“I’m so sorry for everything, T. I know I messed everything up and-.” he swallows hard as the tears start making their way down his cheeks. “And I know I did some shit that hurt you.”

Taron stares up at the ceiling and bites his lower lip hard, trying to stop himself from crying. Richard sounded completely messed up. “Richard, it’s not only your fault and-.”

“Yes it is, Taron.” Richard says and shakes his head. “We promised each other to keep our breakup between us, right?”

“What did you do?” he asks and his voice shakes now as well. Did he expose them to the public now, did he break under the pressure?

“There was this guy.” he starts and hears Taron sucking in air sharply. “A-and then he kissed me and-T I could lie to you and tell you that he was forcing me, but I couldn’t stop myself as well.” A quiet sob leaves his lips.

“And then?” Taron’s voice is cold and sharp now.

“Well he guided me into the bathroom and-.”

“If you’re trying to tell me that you just fucked a random guy in a club’s bathroom and got caught then just say yes and I’ll end the call.” he presses out through tears. “Because I seriously don’t wanna listen to that after what you did a couple months ago.”

“No, Taron, I didn’t.” Richard says quickly and he can hear Taron exhaling relieved. “But when we got there I told him to stop and he just let go off me and grinned at me.”

“Yeah?”

Richard can’t bite back a sob now and buries his face in his hand. “He was getting paid to involve me in a kiss so they could get some pictures and prove that our relationship is over.” Taron remains silent after that and Richard’s heart starts racing. He really messed up now.

“I guess I can’t blame you for that.” Taron admits after a while and stares at his blanket feeling hot tears running down his cheeks. “It’s not like I didn’t kiss other guys to forget you.” Rich swallows hard at that and nods slowly. “Please get home now, get some sleep. We can’t change it anyways, but I appreciate your honesty.”

“Taron, I’m so sorry.”

“Just shut up.” T growls tiredly and shakes his head. “Get some sleep, Richie.” he says, way softer than he wants to, and ends the call.

Richard stares at his phone and sinks his head onto his steering wheel. Fuck.

 -

A few days later he barely gets down his breakfast and suddenly Brandon races in and shows him his phone. “Richard!”

“I know, I know, okay?” he sighs and rubs his face frustrated. “I was kissing him and it was stupid.”

“No, I didn’t mean that.” he says and hands him over the phone.

Richard reads the headline and squirms a bit in his seat. ‘Taron Egerton opening up about the rough breakup between him and his former boyfriend Richard Madden.’ “I don’t think that I wanna read this.” Rich admits and stares down at the table.

“No, Richard, I don’t think Taron really said those things. That’s why I’m showing you this.” Brandon says and hands him his phone. He wouldn’t show such thing to Rich if it was real.

Richard starts reading it and raises his eyebrows surprised. ‘Richard always has been a cheater, so this didn’t really surprise me’, with the picture of Rich and this guy underneath. ‘I loved him, but he broke up with me.’, ‘He hated not being my center of focus when I was working on set.’.

He puts the phone aside and somewhere deep down he knows Taron wouldn’t say such things but they hurt him anyway. “Thanks.” he just mumbles and abandons the rest of his breakfast. “I need a minute.”

Richard steps out on the balcony and lights himself a cigarette. He inhales deeply and tries to calm down and keep his breakfast in. His phone rings and he sees a message of Taron.

I did never say this shit, I swear. I got out of hospital yesterday evening, I didn’t even have time for an interview. – Taron

It’s okay. – Richard

Elton said he’ll kill them. – Taron

Good luck then. – Richard

He puts his phone aside and shakes his head, not believing to what a shit show his life turned over the last six months. How should he ever be able to erase what he did and get Taron back? He needed him so bad and he just wants to curl up in his arm, listening to him whispering cute shit in Welsh.

A bit later he finds himself in his room, biting on a pen and staring at the blank piece of paper in front of him. Talking made him emotional, texting was to emotionless, so he settled on writing a letter.

 -

“Taron! There’s a letter for you.” Elton says and waves with it towards Taron who’s on the balcony getting some fresh air and playing with Elton’s sons.

“Really? From who?” he says and doesn’t really pay attention until he hears it.

“Richard.”

Taron looks up quickly and studies Elton’s face trying to find out if he’s mocking him. But he sees no sign for that and so he apologizes to the boys and gets up taking it. “I’ll go and get some space then, if that’s alright.”

“Sure, go on. I’ll be here if you need me.” he says and Taron smiles thankfully walking away slowly.

But as soon as he’s around the corner he races upstairs to his bedroom and locks the door behind him quickly. He doesn’t know what to expect from this letter it could be everything.

 Dear Taron,

I could have told you all of that in an audio or send you a text message. But I guess we always preferred being old-fashioned sometimes, which is why I decided to write you a letter.

I could blame you or tell myself it wasn't my fault, but there's no use to do so. Because I know I would be lying to myself. You had and have every right to be disappointed by me and be mad at me. I fucked up. Not only because I wasn’t there when you needed me and then making a promise and not keeping it, but also because of the other thing I did.

It's been creeping back into my head quite often since you broke up with me and I haven't been able to push it aside so far. I've done something I would have never thought being possible, which is why I can’t fully realize it now.

I really don't know why it happened and I feel so bad about it. Max and I talked about it and we both have no feelings for each other, we never had. I'm really sorry and I would totally understand it if you won't forgive me.

Taron, I really tried to forget it and pretend it never happened, but then you passed out and everything came back to me. And then I pulled this stupid stunt, kissing this guy, which lead to exposing our breakup and this stupid fake interview with you. I’m so embarrassed for what happened that night and that I made you suffer. Again.

 Taron stops reading and stares out of the window for a couple of minutes. Richard cheated on him, probably lonely and when someone wanted him he gave in, and he knew he did it while they were in their happy and supportive relationship. Not afterwards, like with this idiot, when those things didn’t matter anymore. Where did they go wrong? He thinks about putting it aside and not reading one word more, afraid of what else might come to the surface. But Richard was telling him the truth here, opening up, it would be more than unfair to just ignore that. He blinks away the tears and continues reading.

He stares down at the letter in his hands and tries to make out the words on the paper, his watering eyes not making it easy. Hot tears fall down his cheeks and he covers his mouth with one hand, trying to stop any sound from coming out. He puts the letter aside and gets up to unlock the door again, not wanting to worry anyone before stumbling back to bed. He covers himself with the blanket and starts crying into his pillow.

Taron knew something happened back then between those two, but he tried to convince himself it hasn't been that way. All the time he tried to tell himself that they maybe just shared steamy kisses. It hurts even more now to get told it really did happen.

After a while, Elton checks up on him and finds him in bed, curled up, tears still rolling down his cheeks, quiet sobs leaving his lips. He sits down at the edge of the bed and rubs his arm comforting. "Just let it out, that's more than necessary."

"He really did it." Taron just mumbles.

"Did what?"

"Sleep with him. He slept with Max while we were still together." Taron presses out and sniffs. "I can't believe he really did it. I-I tried to tell myself they just…"

"Was he confessing it to you?" Elton asks gently and T nods.

"I couldn't finish reading it. I just couldn't." he says and sits up sighing. He must look like a pathetic mess to his dear friend.

"Take your time." he tells him and gives him a compassionate smile.

 -

A week later he gets back to work, knowing he still has to finish the film after he spent the last three shooting days in hospital. He's in a better mood, looking healthier. Staying with Elton does him good, he needs someone looking after him. When he feels bad he just doesn't care about things like eating, taking proper care of himself or sleeping. With Rich by his side it never had been a problem because he reminded him, guided him through the day.

He talks to his stylist and jokes around, she notices the change and says she's happy to have him back.

After lunch break he steps into the make-up trailer and sees her serious look. "What's wrong?"

"Richard broke down during a press conference." she says slowly and sees his eyes widen in shock.

"How do you mean ‘broke down’?" he asks quietly.

"Panic attack." she just mumbles and Taron curses.

“Thank you for telling me.” he says and she nods quickly.

They get him ready for the next scene and Taron gives his best to stay concentrated. He’s glad when he’s done and on his way back to Elton’s place. Taron tells Elton what his stylist told him and his friend watches him observantly. “What are you gonna do now?”

“I don’t know.” Taron mumbles and tucks his legs up on the sofa. “I really don’t know.” Elton remains silent and his thoughts are racing. “Should I call him and check up on him?”

“Maybe you should. But maybe you should finish reading the letter he sent you first.” Elton suggests carefully. He doesn’t want to push Taron into anything.

“Yeah, probably.” T mumbles and excuses himself, going upstairs. He gets the letter and sits down on bed searching the line where he stopped reading. After a few moments he found it and sees the letter still has some paragraphs to read for him.

 I haven’t been doing very well lately regarding my mental health, I feel like my head is completely fucked up. I miss you steadying me and helping me to focus and not to worry about all the nonsense. I realized once more how much I need you to stay sane in this world. And I realized that I destroyed everything we had.

Telling you the truth and being honest with you, was very difficult for me, because I knew I would hurt you. And it was never my intention to hurt you.

Thinking about the way we are right now scares me, thinking of the possibility we may never be able to speak to each other again.

When you passed out I was panicking, because I wouldn’t be able to help you or just hold you in my arms and tell you everything would be okay again. You are still so important to me and I don’t think that this will ever change.

And now that I’m pouring you my heart out and finally being honest, I’ll have to tell you another thing. The truth is, I am still in love with you.

I don’t know if we’ll ever be the same again or if you’ll ever forgive me. And if you don’t, who could blame you for it? It just kills me to think we have to stay this way and I’d love to talk to you again one day in person about everything.

I can only repeat myself, I’m so sorry for the shit I did.

I love you,

Rich

 Taron can’t hide a little smile at that second part of the letter and his heart beats a bit faster. His fingers strokes over the little ‘I love you, Rich’ at the end, something he has seen on several little notes before. He rubs his face and gets up quickly walking downstairs to Elton. “I won’t call him.” he says.

“That bad?”

“No, I’ll do something else but I’d like to hear your opinion on it.” Taron states and hands him the letter. “And I’d like you to read it before I tell you.”

“Are you sure? I don’t have to, it can stay between you two.” he offers but Taron shakes his head.

“I am sure.”

Elton nods and takes the letter reading it. When he’s done he looks at Taron and smiles a bit. “He seems to be just as fucked up as you are.” Taron just giggles at that. “But he apologized and I think he’s feeling really bad about himself. And obviously, still loves you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, the second page of the letter shows how much he needs you and wants you back. He’s hoping on a reunion but he’s giving you the time, space and choice to do so.” Elton states. “So, what exactly was your plan?”

 -

Taron steps out of the airport and gets into the next cab. He doesn’t have much with him, only a little suitcase, he isn’t really planning on staying long. Giving the driver the address to his hotel he leans back in his seat and looks out of the window. He’s nervous, as always when he is in Los Angeles, still not thinking he belongs here.

After getting to his room and taking a shower he dresses up and leaves it. He knows exactly where he wants to go.

Pressing the doorbell he seesaws on his toes nervously and then the doors open. He looks into a pair of brown eyes and swallows down his hurt and anger. “Hey. Is…Richard here?”

Max shakes his head. “No…He’s with a friend.”

“Brandon?” Taron asks and Max nods. “Thanks.” he nods and turns around. He had nothing to do here.

“I’m sorry for what happened, it wasn’t okay what I did. I asked him to…” he says and Taron just shakes his head.

“Whatever.” he quickly walks down the stairs and drives to Brandon’s place hoping it was still the right address. He pressed the doorbell anxiously.

“Oh…Hey.” Brandon says slowly and leans against the doorframe. “Looking for Richard, I guess?”

“Hey…Yes, is he here?” Taron asks nervously, Brandon shakes his head. “Okay, can you tell him I was here and wanted to talk to him?”

Brandon watches him observantly for a moment. “I’m sorry for what happened, he told me about it.” T just nods. “If you’re here to tell Richard he messed up, then please just don’t. He’s in an awful state at the moment and he already knows he messed up.”

“I’m not here to tell him such thing.” Taron shakes his head sighing softly. “I wanna talk to him about something he sent me.”

“Okay.” he nodded relieved.

“Is he still not here?” Taron asks and raises his eyebrows, seeing the way Brandon pulled the door a bit closed behind himself.

“He isn’t, just don’t want Charlie to run out of the apartment.” he chuckles realizing his mistake.

“Okay, then I’ll come by later, maybe?” Taron says and Brandon nods, they exchange their goodbyes. He walks towards the stairs and takes the first steps.

“Taron!” Brandon stops him and holds up a little card. “He’s there, finished in twenty minutes.”

Taron looks at it and raises his eyebrows surprised. “Therapy?”

“Yeah.” Brandon says and nods slowly. “I’m really not in the position to ask you this but please be nice to him, he’s messed up.”

“I will be.” Taron assures him with a smile and thanks him.

 -

Richard steps out of the office and puts on his jacket. He feels kind of relieved, but also agitated. Talking about him and Taron was never easy for him. When he walks down the stairs he gets slower seeing him leaning against the wall.

“Hey.” Taron says, softly and watches him closely. Richard looks tired, is pale and his hair is a bit of a mess.

“What are you doing here?” he asks carefully, preparing himself to hear once more how he destroyed everything. What a fucking idiot he was and how he ruined five years of love.

“Wanted to see you.”

“Well, here I am.” Rich says and walks down the rest of the stairs. He needs some fresh air right now and walks past by him towards the door.

“I got your letter.” Taron speaks carefully and sees him stopping in his movements. “The first part made me cry, not gonna lie. I didn’t read more for about a week.” Richard looks up and glances at him now. “But when I heard about your panic attack I read the rest.”

“What are you doing here?” he asks again and Taron can hear the fear in his voice.

He takes a step forward and carefully grabs Richard’s hand, who looks down at them. “Listen, you hurt me, a lot, but you were honest to me. I don’t want you to feel bad about it for the rest of your life.” he says and sees him biting his lower lip nervously. “I didn’t come here to be mad at you.”

“You didn’t?” Richard looks up now and Taron can see the pure anxiety in them.

“I came here to tell you that I accept your apology and I wanna apologize myself.” he says and sees Richard frowning. “I overreacted and I hurt us both with it. And it wasn’t fair to just end the call when you told me about that guy.” Taron searches his look and his voice gets soft as he strokes over his knuckles. “Richie.” He looks at him and Taron sees the tears in his eyes. “I wanna get rid of this mess between us. But the real reason I came here was that I wanted to check up on you. I know how intense your panic attacks can get.” And that’s all it takes to let Richard’s tears escape his eyes. “Come here.” he encourages him gently and wraps him into a warm hug.

Richard buries his face in his shoulder and starts crying, holding him close. He can feel Taron starting to cry as well and holds him tight. “I’m so sorry.” he chokes out.

“Shh, it’s okay.” he whispers and fondles over his curls gently. “It’s gonna be alright, love.”

Richard pulls back and looks at him with widened blue eyes. “You just called me love.”

“Yeah.” Taron says and giggles softly.

“So you’re not mad at me?” Rich asks hopefully.

“No.” he shakes his head smiling. Richard falls back into his arms and Taron places a soft kiss into his hair. “I hope you’ve seen they’ve taken this fake interview down.”

“I didn’t know that.” Rich chuckles weakly. “I didn’t really spend time on my phone anymore.”

“Elton told me.” T explains and cups his face with one hand, wiping away some tears. He sinks into Richard’s beautifully deep blue eyes and somehow he knows they’ll be alright again. “They couldn’t publish the pictures because you couldn’t be identified on it. That’s why they came up with this interview.”

“Seriously?” he asks shocked.

“Yeah.” Taron says and rolls his eyes. “Fucking idiots. Well, that means if we’ll go back out there together no one will know what happened that night.” he smirks at him and looks up to him. “Now the only question is if you’d like to be my boyfriend again.”

Richard swallows hard at that and bites on his lip for a moment, caught up in thoughts. “You’re sure? I don’t wanna say yes when you feel bad about getting back together.”

“I took the next flight to LA when I finished your letter, of course I’m sure.” T states with a slight grin. Richard cups his face and leans down connecting their lips to a soft kiss. Taron opens his eyes slowly and smiles. “I suppose that means yes.”

“I love you.” he breathes out and kisses him again.

“Oh god, I forgot how good that feels.” T sighs and tangles his hand in Richard’s curls. It has been months since they kissed the last time. Richard just chuckles and lifts him up, making him squeak surprised.

“You’re working on something at the moment?” Rich asks curiously as he carries him outside and towards his car.

Taron shakes his head and grins at him, playing with Richard’s hair. “I finished it yesterday. You?”

“Nothing as well.” he says and stops in front of the car fumbling for his keys. “How’s about going on vacation, just us two?”

Taron cups his face and kisses him passionately. “Yes.” he nods quickly and Richard lets him down again. “I love you too.” he says remembering he was too busy caught up in kissing him before.

 -

They decided to stay in Taron’s hotel room, staying up talking almost the whole night. Taron was cuddled up in Richard’s arm just like he wanted to be all these months ago. Now they are standing at the airport, holding hands and waiting for their flight back. Taron leans his head on Richard’s shoulder and closes his eyes.

“Tired?” he asks.

“Mm.” he just hums and giggles surprised as Richard pulls him closer, facing him now.

“You’ll be able to get some sleep during the flight, bubs.” Richard says and places a tiny kiss onto his forehead before pulling him into a loving hug. Taron buries his face in his chest and wraps his arms around his waist. Rich rests his head on Taron’s and rubs tiny circles on his lower back. It already feels like nothing ever happened.

@taron-eggmcmuffin @maddertonmyheart @madderton-obsessed @ispewglitter @primaba11erina

#taron egerton #Richard Madden #madderton #taron egerton fic #richard madden fic #madderton fic #angst #taron egerton angst #richard madden angst #taron egerton fluff #richard madden fluff #tw: panic attack #cheating #breakup #Elton John #brandon flynn

[thotantics]

⚤   pairing — reader + Jung Hoseok

✎ word count — 3,445

✦ genre — smut,

✗ warnings  — graphic description of sex, humiliation, name calling, masturbation, voyeurism (brief), alcohol use, rough sex, overstimulation, unsafe sex (always use condoms!!)

[requested] @pia-love-hobi Prompt Jung Hoseok with A 3 and E 9. Plz! A3 = First Time & E9 = Humiliation

[A/N] oof this was one hell of a couple of prompts to put together and for the exact perfect person, imo!! to the person who requested this, im so sorry this sat in my inbox for so long but i really hope it came out well and, maybe, possibly, was worth the wait. i quite enjoyed this, personally :’)

You were finally going to tell him how you felt. For the entirety of your friendship with Hoseok, your feelings had been...a lot more than friendly. Something about him was fun and easy going but there was something more that kept you from telling him the truth for so long. Something deep inside of him that felt darker and it intimidated you into silence.

After a late night out partying with mutual friends, you ended up crashing at his place and in a drunken stupor, you decide tonight was going to be the night you would confess to him. You spent most of the night watching the way his face flushed the more alcohol was consumed, the way a song would come on in the club and Hoseok would immediately start bopping and vibing along to the beat. He was the life of the party, as always. Everyone around him felt his magnetism, but he always made sure you were near by.

Part of the appeal was that, somehow, he treated you special. You were worried maybe other people felt like that, too. Maybe that’s just the way he was with everyone? By the end of the night, you were the one sitting next to him on the couch when he nodded off asleep around 4am, one of his hands reaching out and clasping your thigh absentmindedly.

If only things could be as easy as they were when he was laughing and drunk and overly affectionate. You watch out of the corner of your eye as he dozes off asleep and decide it’s probably for both of your best interests if you go sleep alone in his unoccupied bed, bringing out a spare blanket and tossing it over him before you mumble, “Night, Hoseokie.”

Hours later, you’re tossing and turning restlessly in his bed, thoughts of when you should have confessed your feelings to him haunting your sleep. You recall the way he had smiled at you when he slung his arm over your shoulders and told you to just crash at his place for the night. The short walk in the cold autumn air until you made it to his apartment. The late night Netflix binge while you filled up with savory snacks when everything was still hazy from alcohol and dancing all night.

Speaking of which. The scent of him was entirely too pleasant to slip fully into REM cycle. Instead, you teeter on the edge of sleeping lightly and being entirely awake, your face buried in his pillow, your hands fisting in his sheets and drawing the blankets up higher around your body. It was almost like one of those hugs when he drapes himself over you, only minus the weight of him, which was sorely missed.

You find yourself picturing his weight and the warmth of him which is all too easily fantasized with his scent surrounding you in the plush confines of his bed, and before you’re fully aware of what your doing, your hand moves under you, caught between the mattress and your body, your legs parting, hips shifting back to give you room and then forward, rubbing your core, hot and needy, against your seeking fingers.

Your clothes had reeked of the club you had been at all night and whatever alcoholic beverage your friend group had been downing all evening, so you had robotically stripped down to your bra and panties before you climbed into Hoseok’s bed. It was easy for your fingers to find your clit through your panties, your hips bucking and grinding down against your hand. Mind hazy from exhaustion and maybe two or three too many shots, you slip your fingers around the side of your underwear and finger yourself in earnest, keeping your thighs splayed wide while you stay on your belly.

A rhythmic squeak of his bed frame as you hump down into the friction of your fingers stirs Hoseok awake on the couch. His eyes don’t want to open, but then he hears a muffled sound, a groan of pain, he thinks, and accompanied with that all too familiar creak of his bed, he eventually puts two and two together and his eyes fly open in a heartbeat. Taking in his surroundings, he realized you draped a blanket over him and he smiles fondly as he stands and makes his way towards his room.

Face buried in the pillows, you muffle a groan that sounds way too close to Hoseok’s name just as he rounds the corner and that’s when he sees you, fully submerged under his blankets, your ass lifting and grinding down hard, thighs trembling.

He freezes in the door frame, not sure what he expected to find but definitely not this. For half a second he thinks that he’s invading your privacy and he feels awful for lingering, but he can’t stop staring. He knows he should go but his body doesn’t move. Save for his cock stirring to life behind the zipper of his jeans. Hoseok can’t stop himself from calling out to you.

“Do you always do this when you sleep over?”

The fear that spikes into your chest spreads cold through your veins when you hear him, gasping in surprise, stilling entirely. You wish you could melt through his mattress and disappear forever but Hoseok is coming closer, expecting you to respond, but you have no idea what you could possibly say to redeem yourself.

He’s caught you masturbating and there’s no way out of it. No excuses to give. What were you supposed to do? Mind reeling with thoughts of how you could maybe, flee his apartment entirely, you can see in your peripheral that Hoseok is coming closer.

“Are you going to answer me?” He asks you after the tensest few moments of silence that you’ve ever suffered through. He’s standing right at the edge of the bed, now. You lower your eyes in shame, hiding your face in his pillow. You want to cry, you feel tears stinging your eyes and your throat is constricting but you’re barely breathing, unwilling to move a muscle.

“You’re such a stupid girl.” Hoseok sighs heavily. You’re so surprised by his statement that you peek out from your safe haven wrapped up in his blanket and buried into his pillow. Through the mess of your hair in your eyes, you can make out his waist, and you’re surprised to find him shirtless. He certainly wasn’t when you covered him up on the couch earlier in the night.

Your face burns with shame as you peek past your hair to get a better view of his tensed lower stomach. It’s while you’re eyeing up his abs that you finally realize he’s throbbing in his jeans, growing harder in the silence as you stare ashamedly over at him.

“Why would you play with yourself in my bed when I’m right here?” He asks you, and before you can even think about answering, he asks, completely exasperated, “Why wouldn’t you just let me fuck you, if you’re this needy? Don’t you know anything?”

You turn your face back fully into his pillow, the tears burning your eyes spilling out and wetting the pillowcase under you, mumbling under your breath, “Mhff shry..”

“What was that?” He asks, and before you can speak up, he whips the blanket off of you, baring your exposed back half to the chilled air in his bedroom. You twitch and every muscle in your body freezes still as he barks a command at you, “Speak up!”

“I’m sorry!” You blurt out, “Fuck, I’m sorry, Hoseokie, ok, p-please..”

“That’s right,” His voice drops an octave lower, huskier now he tells you, “Say ‘please fuck me, Hoseokie’.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, and despite the shame burning your face you feel the tightening of desire in your lower belly, and you’re acutely aware of the stickiness coating your panties growing colder since he removed the blanket.

“Tell me.” Hoseok says, and you hear his voice just barely masking the sound of his belt buckle and the drag of his zipper down the front of his jeans, “I know. I’ve been waiting to see what would come of it. I didn’t expect this.” He chuckles, “You didn’t have to do it this way...unless this is what you wanted?”

No, definitely not. If you had been able to go about this the way you wanted, you would’ve been brave enough much earlier in the night to tell Hoseok that you wanted him. Or, hell, months ago you would’ve brought it to his attention, or better yet he would have said something to you all on his own accord. But no. This wasn’t supposed to happen this way.

“Maybe you like being caught, is that it?” Hoseok continues, and you hear his jeans hit the floor and feel the bed dip as he climbs over your back. He straddles the back of your thighs, so his erection tucks heavily under the backside of your ass when he leans forward over you, his hands sweeping your mess of hair out of his way, his mouth at your ear, “Does it turn you on to know you’re doing something bad? That you could get caught? Are you this much of a slut, that you wanted me to find you in my bed like this and fuck you before I even have to ask you out on a date?”

You turn your face to meet his eyes for the first time since he found you, looking back over your shoulder while he leans down and wordlessly, you let him kiss your mouth. It’s a tender meeting of the lips, brief before he groans and dips in further with his tongue, pressing up hard against your back, his cock settling into the crack of your ass cheeks and throbbing heavily against you. He grunts softly, teeth biting at your bottom lip.

“Tell me,” He whispers to you. “Say it.”

You swallow past a lump in your throat, eyes on his, his lids shut softly as he presses you more firmly into the mattress, “Please fuck me, Hoseokie.”

He sits back with a satisfied hum, pleased that you’re compliant enough in this moment to give your consent. He’s waited a long time to hear those words from you, patiently enjoying your friendship and doing everything he can to make you feel comfortable enough with him. Countless sleepovers were inevitably going to lead to this, at least he hoped so, but he had no idea it would come to this and clearly, you didn’t either. But as long as you wanted it as badly as him, he wasn’t going to deny either of you any longer.

His hands smooth down your bare back, gripping your waist, his fingers toy with the waistband of your panties, stuffing his erection up against the softness of your ass, feeling you shiver under him.

“That’s all you had to do, baby..” He murmurs, yanking down the back of your panties so the band sits where your ass meets the back of your thighs, pushing your bare cheeks up invitingly, his hands kneading the mounds of flesh eagerly. “All you had to do was say something and I would’ve been yours all along, you know that right?”

You swallow, head spinning with sensation. His dick grinding into the back of your leg now, hot and heavy, your pussy throbbing with need, his fingers digging into the muscles of your buttocks feels so nice, relieving tension you didn’t even know you’d been carrying. All the while the words on his lips make you blush deeply with the slightest bit of regret. Was it really that easy all this time? He’s clearly excited by the prospect alone, evident by the way his bare cock is leaking onto your heated, flushed skin.

“Now look at you...hiding in my bed in the middle of the night, touching yourself, moaning my name like such a dirty little slut. What were you thinking about?”

Shame grips your throat tightly and you’re unable to form audible sounds at all, let alone a coherent sentence. In truth, you hadn’t been thinking anything specific. Just about him. His weight on you, his warmth, his touch, his scent...you had been consumed by want and desire and foolishly let yourself get carried away.

“Tell me, baby.” Hoseok encourages you, shifting down your body, kissing a wet path down the middle of your spine, his teeth nipping in sharply when he reaches the swell of your ass. “What was making you so needy?”

You can’t answer because he bites at you again, making you gasp and twitch, and though it’s a simple response, you’re unable to formulate it with his mouth and his teeth lavishing your cheeks with kisses and bites. All you can do is twitch and jerk under him, squeaking and gasping into his pillow.

Hoseok humors you, since you’re so responsive to him already, spreading your cheeks open wide to get a good look, groaning when he sees your sex glistening and swollen deep between your thighs. He presses on your lower back, arching you, exposing your sex more, tongue diving in. He buries his mouth against your flesh, tongue probing easily at the source of your wetness. He tastes you briefly, a tease for both of you before he groans and latches onto your cheek, biting an angry hickey into your sensitive skin, slapping your opposite cheek when you squirm too hard under him and make him unlatch from your skin.

“Fuck, you love this, don’t you?” Hoseok pants, admiring the hickey on your left cheek, his fingers spreading you open so he can see your puckered hole and your drooling pussy. “You’re so fucking wet.”

His tongue is on you again, lapping at your drenched entrance like a man starved. You moan, and he slaps at your bitten ass, reminding you in a clipped, tight tone, “I asked you what made you this needy. You gonna answer me?”

“Unnf, you did.” You tell him, lifting your face so he can hear you clearly, not wanting to muffle your words with the pillow. “I want you so bad, Hoseokie, please...”

“You’re so fucking wet already.” He groans, sliding two fingers easily into your cunt. “You could take my cock right now, couldn’t you? Do you want it?”

“Yes!” You whimper, hips lifting back so he can reach deeper inside of you. “F-fucking, just fuck me!”

There’s a moment of adjustment, brief as he hurries to readjust his position and then you feel him, hot and hard, nudging your cheeks apart to reach your cunt from the back. You’re still flat on your stomach, legs under him as he slips his cock inside with a low grunt.

“God, your dirty pussy swallowed me right up, baby.” He mumbles, “You fucking love this, don’t you?” He chuckles, his hips working against you now, snapping and shooting you up the bed into the headboard. Your hands fly out to stop you from banging your head. Hoseok’s hands press down on the middle of your shoulder blades, keeping your face pressed tight into the pillows to muffle the strangled moans you’re emitting.

“So wet.” He grunts, “Squeezing my dick so tight...fuck, your pussy’s drooling all over me, you fucking slut.”

Your face is burning with shame, breath coming out in short, pained gasps as he hits your g-spot over and over again in this position, the wet suction sound as your cunt clamps down around him and Hoseok fucks into you relentlessly echoing around the room. His hand moves to your lower back, pressing firmly, then he grasps your cheeks, molding you against him, arching your ass up into the air so he can fuck into you even deeper. You find yourself begging him, stuttered, strangled pleas muffled into the pillow as you sob, bucking back hard into him.

“Please! Augh, oh god, oh god, please! Ple-!”

Hoseok slips out of you and flips you over onto your back before you can take in a lung full of air and then his tongue in on your swollen, well fucked folds. He licks you deep and slow, a sharp contrast from the harsh way he had fucked you. He’s tonguing at your pussy with the utmost care, moaning as he suckles at your sensitive bundle of nerves, slurping down the taste that flows from your clenching hole.

He doesn’t stop until your thighs are shaking. When your body stiffens and legs tremble, he rockets back up into position over you and enters you again with one slick thrust. Your fingers dig into his biceps, legs falling open, feet dangling helplessly as your mouth falls open in a silent cry, finally locking eyes with him for the first time since he entered you.

“Cum for me.” Hoseok tells you, but it’s not as much a command as a coaxing, desperate statement of need. You do as he wants, creaming and crying out as he fucks you over the edge.

He stops briefly right after to drag you by the thighs higher into his lap, splaying you wide open, feet resting on his pecs with your knees kicked wide open. His fingers find your clit easily and he rubs insistently, cock still buried in you but not moving an inch.

You twitch and squirm against his touch but Hoseok doesn’t stop. He stares into your eyes, fingers hurried and practiced as he rubs insistent circles around your clit. He has you coming again just moments later, a silent scream etched on your features as you thrash under him, feet pushing him away, back arching up off of the mattress.

Hoseok draws it out for what feels like forever. He’s still circling your clit with slower motions as you begin to come down, your body shivering as tears welling in your eyes from the overstimulation. He bends over you, breath fanning across your cheek, and kisses you sweetly on the forehead as he starts to fuck you slowly once more.

“You wanted this so bad, didn’t you?” His voice is as softer now as his touch, featherlight and tender as he murmurs down do you, his hips moving in a circular motion, keeping you teetering on the edge of insanity. “You’re soaking me with your cum. I can feel you throbbing...does it ache? Hm?” He sways his hips upward in a sharp stroke that hits deep, and you gasp, “Can you feel me in your belly? Do you want more?”

You nod wordlessly, keening and moaning in response, humming and simpering. Hoseok strokes your hair out of your face as you thrash still under him, leaning down and kissing you sweetly.

“I’ve always loved you. Didn’t you know that? I tried to show you how special you are to me. Maybe I should try a little harder..” He muses, smiling gently before planting another sweet kiss to your lips. He cradles you to his chest, leaning over you entirely down, face buried in your hair.

It’s a welcome and appreciated gesture after how this whole thing started, and you cling onto him desperately as he slowly and gently builds up his pace. You murmur against his sweat slicked skin that you you love him, too.

You tell him, “I should have said something sooner...I shouldn’t have-”

“Ssh,” Hoseok urges you, “Come here.” He guides you until you’ve changed positions again, this time laying under you while he pulls you over his lap, guiding his cock right back inside. He tugs you over him, controlling the pace from under you as he bucks up gently into your well-used cunt.

“I’m glad it happened like this. We can skip the bullshit and just...enjoy each other.” He smiles, sweeping a kiss across your lips as he cradles your face in his hands. “Can you handle a little more?”

“I-I think so..” You bite your lip down at him.

The bed is protesting noisily as he fucks you from his position on his back, feet planted firmly into the mattress. He toys with your breasts and keeps you down, pressed tight against him so he can smother himself in the swell of your cleavage, mouthing across each nipple and moaning with your tits in his mouth.

Like this, he gets himself off, and though it feels amazing, you’re entirely spent and absolutely sure that if he waited hours, days even, there was no way you could possibly cum again. You tell him as much as he cleans you up, and Hoseok, head already between your thighs, glances back up at you with a quirk of his eyebrow.

“Oh, really?”

#lmao lmao i was struggling so long with how to end this and THIS is what i got hahaha i suck #hoseok smut #jhope smut #bts smut #j-hope smut #mine

[sweet-villain]

Valley Of Hurt~*7*

Part 6

Tags : @laziestgirlintheworld​ @lclb13​ @marialopezzz0922​ 

@winterboobear11​ @devilsexual​ @ellieseymour70​

With your head against the shower wall, you sighed wiping the tears from your cheeks as the hot water sprayed over your head onto your skin. You wrap your arms around yourself looking at the baby blue wall. You were having a rough time accepting that Sebastian really wanted you. You felt miserable and exhausted. Your mind was cloudy and full of doubt. 

You were terrified of getting hurt by him. You missed his touch. His scent. The way he spoke to you. The way he held you. The dates with him. Cuddling with him. How his lips felt against yours. You wanted to go see him and tell him you chosen to take him back.

He has been there for you through your tough times, more than you can count. His voice would bring you so much happiness. He made you feel better about yourself.

Why were you being like this?

Because you were doubting if you’d be good enough for him this time. He doesn’t know how you really feel. He can’t. 

Right now, you needed him.

You exit the shower, drying yourself off and throwing on some shorts on and a loose grey shirt that you randomly found.

You laid down on the bed pulling up YouTube and searching for one of his interviews. You hit play after finding one, and his voice was all you needed to hear at this very moment. Sebastian laughs in the interview, his smile is wide. You loved his smile and loved hearing his laugh. You snuggled up to your blankets, watching Sebastian talk and continue to laugh.

The interview goes on and then your name pops into the question and his smile, the way his eyes shined when your name was mentioned. He nods and tells the interviewer that you are the love of his life. This was a two years ago, when you two were only into two months of dating. He knew you were the one for him. He loved you so much and people just adored him, more for how much he loved you. Tears stream down your cheeks remembering after the interview, he came to see you and embraced you in his arms. He made you feel so safe. You fell asleep without even knowing thinking about him and wishing he was here with you. 

You were sleeping when 4AM rolled around and a knock comes to your door. Who was not sleeping at this time? Groaning and rolling around in your bed looking at the time. This was not the time for a visit.

You waited for whomever was knocking would leave but then there was that knock again. Knocking off the sheets off of you as you walked over to the door with a sigh, ready to give the person standing on the other side of the door, a piece of your mind. Tired and half awake, you peeked into the hole to see who it and blinked in shock seeing who it was. He was standing there desperate for you to let him in.

Upon seeing him standing there, his appearance wasn’t right making him look out of place. Why would he come here? It’s not everyday you get to have the person you wanted to see all along standing at your door. Sebastian continued to bang on the door at four in the morning.

Opening the door finally and looking at him.

“ How long have you been like this?” You asked as soon as your eyes laid on him. In response, he strolled into your apartment, stumbling over his feet before he laid down on your couch.  You closed the door and walked into the kitchen to get him water, which you would make him drink. As you walked into the living room finding him sprawled out on the couch, a hand covering his eyes as he laid there. 

You knelt in front of him, tapping on his chest to get his attention.

“ Sebastian, you need to drink this.”

He removed his arm from his eyes, shifting into a sitting position as he took the glass of water from you, taking a few sips

You wondered why at this hour he would show up at your door. 

Sebastian put the glass down at the small table that you had in the living room after he finishing his water, sighing and mumbling to himself to whatever was on his mind. Maybe you should call Chris to come get him.Though calling Chris would be a hard pill to swallow because of what happened months ago.

“ Fuck it, I’m calling Chris,” you said, running a hand through your hair as you got up to get your phone. 

“ Don’t” 

“What do you mean, don’t? You shouldn’t even be here, and I don’t need to hear what you have to say to me. Not like this.” 

Before you could blink, he grabbed gently onto your wrist as he shook his head. The look he was giving you sent chills down your spin.

“ You are not calling, Evans.” He grumbles, pulling you into him. You manage to stand your ground but kneel on the floor sitting back on your legs, looking up at him, trying to process what just happened. 

“ I will, he will come get you.” You tell him. The way Chris’s last name left his lips felt like something wasn’t right. Did Chris and Sebastian have a fall out?

“ What are you doing here, Stan?” You questioned. 

“ I’m tired of all of this” Was all that came out of his mouth, he sighed once more. 

“ Tired of what?” He mumbled something underneath his breath but you could barley hear him.

“ What did you just say?” 

“ I don’t wanna wait Y/N. I love you, dammit!” You were taken back as he raised his voice. It was unusual for him to do that. But he also still had a hold on your wrist, but it was more your hand. You had barley noticed that he was holding your hand in his. 

Still in disbelief that he raised his voice, you blinked a couple of times. 

“ Wait? Huh?”

It was unreal to see him like this. He was so angry and frustrated. He wanted you all to himself. He had found out that Chris has kissed you. Chris had told him and was proud of it. Sebastian lost control and he ended up punching Chris in the face and leaving his place right after. Now Sebastian only wanted you to be his. 

“ You make me crave you more than I ever craved someone in my entire life, Y/N. I want to be your everything, again.” He gritted his teeth, “ Chris told me that he had kissed you, and when he did, I got so angry. I don’t want anyone else to kiss you, but me!” 

He was breathing heavily from the intense emotions that washed over him, while his eyes gazed at you. Staring into your soul, pleading for you to want him like he wanted you. He wasn’t joking. 

He was chasing for your heart. For your love. 

“ You’re not thinking straight, Seb. Your drunk and-”

“ I know what I’m saying Y/N,” He cuts you off. “ I love you. I know I do. You’re the only woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.” He sighed, running a hand down his face. You could end this conversation right now and tell him to get out. You could have called Chris, and go back to bed. But here you were tangled in this mess with him. You are in love with him as he is in love with you. Doesn’t matter if he is sober or drunk.

But you couldn’t just have your mind set that he wanted you. He was going to hurt you. He did before, what’s stopping him from doing it again?

“ If you really wanted me, you began to talk, feeling your heart breaking, “ you wouldn’t have hurt me in the first place. Don’t come here and mess with my feelings, Stan.” 

You stood up from the couch, looking down at him and shook your head. You didn’t know how to feel at the moment or what to think of this. You didn’t want to come between Chris and Sebastian. They were really good, close friends. Yet, you pushed your own feelings aside and let you break your own heart and his. 

“ You can stay the night, but you need to be gone when I wake up.” You tell him turning your back to him and walking back into your room. “ I don’t really want to see you again. I can’t take this anymore.” You continue, before leaving him alone in you're living room. 

 You walked into the bathroom turning on the light grimacing at how bright it is. You looked at your reflection in the mirror You turned on the tap water to freshen yourself up and to make yourself feel better. When you exit the bathroom, a body pinned you to the wall making you escape. Sebastian’s face inches away. 

“  I fell in love with you all over again. You’re beautiful, and I miss you so much. What we had is what I want, I want you and I want to prove to you how much you deserve to be with me.” 

Those words were all it took to crumble into his arms. 

#sebastian stan #imagine sebastian stan #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader

[shannygoatgruff]

Talk to Me

Stay Safe, Stay Home Writing Challenge - Prompt #16 (Call me if you need anything)

Genre: Romance

Pairing: Modern Ivar x OC

Warning: Language, sexual innuendo, insecurity

Rating: M

Chapter 1 || Chapter 3

Chapter 2

Sitting in Terminal 19, Ivar wasn’t sure how he was going to make it through this entire vacation without killing Hvitserk. 

From the car to their current spot, they argued, non-stop. First, Ivar didn’t want Hvitserk's with his leg braces through airport security. Then, they argued because Hvitserk wanted Ivar to use a wheelchair because it was faster. But, Ivar didn’t want to use a wheelchair; he could walk. He had his braces had brought both of his forearm crutches. It would take him a bit longer, but he could get to the terminal on his own. After calling Ivar a spoiled dick-wad, Hvitserk then insisted that they use the airport shuttle service to get to the terminal. He thought it was only fair since he was the one that had to lug around their carry-on bags. Ivar just called Hvitserk a lazy asshole as he listened to his brother curse at him as they walked to the terminal. 

As soon as they sat down Hvitserk wanted to get food. All Ivar did was ask why they didn’t stop on their way to the terminal? He was hungry, too, but now he was tired and needed to rest. This particular disagreement turned into an actual slap boxing match where Hvitserk got the last sucker punch in on Ivar’s bicep and ran away from where they were sitting.

Telling his older brother that he wished he'd get herpes, Ivar pulled out his vibrating phone. “Hallo, for Ivar.”

Just hearing his deep, yet gentle voice with that Norse accent, did something to her every time. She couldn’t tell Norweigan from Swedish from Icelandic from Dutch – it was all Scandinavian to her. The accent was just sexy as hell. “Hey.” Cash bit her lip, as she folded her legs under her on the floor at the Munich International Airport. “I made it to Munich. My next flight leaves in 2 hours.”  

“I’m sorry,” Ivar put his hand over his phone and spoke in Norweigan to Hvitserk before drawing back his fist in order to hit his brother if he didn’t get away from him. “Did you have a good flight?” He was relieved that she did. “I just made it to the airport. My flight is leaving in about 1 hour. It should take me about 2 hour, 20 minutes to reach Vienna.”   

“So, we’re going to see each other in a few hours, huh?” Cash could feel her stomach drop at the thought. Part of her wanted to go up to that ticket counter and change her return flight ticket. She wanted to hop on the first thing heading back to Baltimore. But another part of her, the part that wanted to see if this thing, whatever it was, could really be something.  

Ubbe is right. I have to tell her.  “Yeah, just a few hours. Do you know what time you want to meet tonight? Our hotels are just a few streets away.”  

“Um, I don’t have any idea how long it will take me to get through Customs when I get to Vienna.” She picked at the lent on her PINK sweatpants and thought. “Plus, I’ve been traveling overnight and haven’t slept at all. I’m exhausted – I may try to take a quick nap.”

“Okay.” Ivar was a little disappointed because he wanted to see her right away, but it at least bought him a little time. “But, you know if you sleep when you get in, you will never adjust to the local time. It is best to stay awake through it all. Besides, I make a really comfy pillow.” He held his breath for a second, trying to find the words to tell her about his condition. Instead, different words came tumbling out of his mouth, “I cannot wait to see your face.”

She chuckled nervously at that statement. Oh, that. Did he have to bring that up again? The last time they talked about exchanging photos, she ended up sending him a bunch of avatars. It wasn’t that she was afraid to show him what she looked like, but what if her mother was right and he ended up being some sort of homicidal maniac? She didn’t want to give him a photo to post on the wall of his creepy den of debauchery to jerk off to.  

What if he didn't like the things about her that she was already insecure about? She was short – only 5’3” and skinny. No matter what she tried, she couldn’t gain weight where it counted. She wasn’t sure what happened but the chests, hips, and butts that all of the women on her mother’s side of the family were blessed with, those genes skipped her completely. Her neck was too thin and it made her head look big. And though she loved her curly hair, it was big, too. Not that easily tamed curly hair that looked good on commercials, either. We’re talking totally unruly big curls on a short, skinny girl, with a big head, big curly hair. 

There were probably only like 3 black people in all of Norway, to begin with. What if Ivar didn’t appreciate all of her melanin? She was sure he knew she was black from her avatar, but they had never really talked about their races or ethnicities before. “I still don’t know what you look either. But, I think it makes meeting a complete stranger in a different country much more romantic when you don’t know who you’re looking for, don’t you?”

Over the last six months, he had been the one reluctantly to video chat with her. He was so afraid that she would see his braces or crutches. It was just better if they kept it to calls and messages. Plus, there was something really exciting about getting to know her and having her like him without the pity. God knows he had enough pity dates courtesy of his older brothers. “Not so much for me. I’m thinking, maybe we should exchange photos now.” He looked over his shoulder to make sure Hvitserk wasn’t nearby. “I want to look at you while I am on the plane.” 

This was only ever supposed to be an online friendship. All Cash did was reply to a comment he’d left on a YouTube vlog they both subscribed to. Somehow that turned into them emailing and chatting. Then that turned into texting and talking on the phone, and late nights and giggling in the dark. The next thing she knew, six months later, she was flying to Vienna to meet him. “Does it make sense that I’m nervous for you to see me?”

 “Why? I already think you are beautiful.” He said quietly.

Oh lord, I’m gonna fuck this boy.  She rubbed her brows and shook her head at the thought. Cash had tried so hard not to get caught up, but there was such sincerity in his voice. “Okay. I’m going to send you three pictures. No matter what you think, don’t say anything. That way, if I’m not your type, then there are no hard feelings. We can just have a great time and hang out as friends.”

“You know that is not going to happen. You are so much more than my friend." He hoped he could still be this smooth in person, "But, I’ll play along. I will send you some pictures too and you will not comment, either.”

“Okay, I’ll call you back in a few minutes. I have to look through my phone to find somewhere I don’t look crazy.”  

It took Ivar about 30 seconds to choose the pictures to send to her. Most of them were from the chest up or showed him sitting, so he was pretty confident that she wouldn't notice his affliction. He hit the send button and anxiously awaited her pictures in return.

When her phone pinged she closed her eyes. Did she want to open them?  Okay, he is not going to look like Eric Northman, so don’t be disappointed.  Why she had it in her mind that he was going to be some 6’6” blond vampire-Adonis like Alexander Skarsgård, was beyond her. 

But, didn’t all Scandinavian men have that look to them? Sexy, long, lanky, blonds, with sad blue eyes that were slightly darker around the sockets and looked like they moonlighted as vampires. That’s what secretly hoped that Ivar looked like. A sexy blond vampire – she could be Tara and he could Eric…Girl, get yourself together. This is not True Blood.  She shouldn’t have binge-watched the show on her flight.

When she opened her eyes, her breath caught in her throat. He didn’t look like Alexander Skarsgård, but this tasty morsel here… 

Wait, what was she thinking? The only thing she could think to do was forward the pictures to her bestie, Glenn, with the following message:

Biiiiitch...Call Catfish immediately!  This can’t be Ivar!!!!!

She didn’t care that it was 4am back home.  This was an emergency.

 As she waited for Glenn to respond, she found herself almost regretting having sent him real pictures of herself. Now he knew what she looked like. If he was catfishing her, he was going to have a field day. But, if he wasn’t, then he was going to be mighty disappointed.  

Their beauty ratios didn’t match. She had this theory on the attractiveness of couples and had broken them down into ratios of beauty: high:high; low:low; high:low; equally yoked. The only couples that could stand the test of time were those that were equally yoked. 

Two extremely beautiful people were destined to fail, (ie. Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt.) One would think that Nick & Priyanka Jonas would have taken the hint from their former beautiful couple predecessors. Cash gave them a good 10 years before they would crash and burn. They were just too pretty. Mirrors were destined to turn themselves inside out when they walked by. The world just wasn’t ready for all that sexy. 

On the flip side of that coin, two extremely unattractive people wouldn’t last long, either. Take her cousin Maq and his wife Crystal, for example. One day, they would both wake up and be sickened, because they would take a good look at one another and realize that might doom the world by having a baby. If they had a child with their collective genes, the planets might malign...stars might blink out of existence. It could be the end of the world as Cash knew it.

Then you had the high:low ratio couples. Those were the people where one person was really attractive and the other was, not so much…a la Jay-Z and Beyoncé. Yeah, they made cute kids, but Cash was sure one of them (and she was sure it wasn’t Beyoncé) probably always felt like the ugly duckling in that relationship.

If this was truly Ivar, they weren’t equally yoked. She wasn’t as jaw-droppingly sexy as he was. Granted, she thought she was pretty damn cute, but not like him. She wouldn’t put them on them Jay-Z: Beyoncé scale, but the scales of beauty were slightly tipped in his favor.  

What the fuck was she thinking? Here she had just flown to another continent to meet a guy she didn’t know from Adam, only to be set up by him pretending to be someone else. There was no way on God’s green earth that this sexy specimen of man was the guy she had been talking to for the last six months. If it was, he either had a girlfriend, 2 wives in 3 countries, 35 children, was a sadist, serial killer, drunk, drug addict, or he was on the run from Interpol, or all of the above. Cash’s life didn’t work that way.   

Men like him didn’t happen to her. Not without all the fine print. 

When Ivar’s phone chimed, he couldn’t hit the icon fast enough to see the photos Cash had sent him. He had wondered for so long what she looked like, no matter what it was she was going to be beautiful. He was sure of it. Even if Hvitserk liked to joke that she was probably looked like Floki in drag.

“What is that dumb look on your face?” Hvitserk handed Ivar his sandwich wrap and coffee, before sitting down to peel back the wrapper on his own food. He eyed his brother suspiciously when he shook his head.

Without making a sound, he snatched the phone out of the younger man’s hand and looked at the screen. “Wow…who is…Is this who you’re going to meet?” Hvitserk’s smile was huge and his chest swelled with pride for his little brother. “Well done,” his voice raising an octave in his approval. He couldn’t resist nudging Ivar with his elbow a few times. “You are finally gonna get laid,” he laughed, taking a big bite of his wrap ignoring the bits of lettuce falling on his lap.

Why was Hvitserk on this trip? More importantly, why couldn’t Ivar have been born an only child? There was no way he was going to get to know Cash better or get any alone time with her with him around. Ivar thought about killing him, but then he would have to explain it to his remaining brothers at home. “I have had sex before, Hvitserk.”

“Yeah, but if you haven’t done it in over 3 years, I think you go back to being a virgin,” Hvitserk responded with a mouth full of food. “I think I read that somewhere.” Hvitserk shook his wrap in Ivar’s direction, as he tried to recall the statistics.  

Hvitserk wasn’t going to go into what Ubbe had told him about Ivar’s ill-fated sex life. Ivar’s confession to Ubbe was supposed to be in confidence. But of course with Ubbe and Hvitserk being best friends, naturally, Ubbe shared their youngest brother’s woes, and then Hvitserk told Björn. So now they all knew about Ivar’s impotence.

Poor Ivar, they’d all thought. They all knew that when he tried to lose his virginity as a teenager, he was too nervous to "rise to the occasion". So, when the moment did finally happen, with his last girlfriend that they all lovingly (hated) referred to as, ‘that stuck up bitch’ Freydis, he was unable to reach a climax. And what did his ever so beautiful and loving (bitch) girlfriend, Freydis, do to try to help him in his situation? She stopped having sex with him, that’s what.  

Ivar had begged Ubbe to take him to the urologist, fearing that his disease was the cause of him not being able to sæd, or whatever the term was for it in English. But, the doctor told him that stress and anxiety were most likely the causes of his impotence and he needed to relax – maybe consider seeing a therapist. But, he wasn’t crazy – he didn’t need a shrink.  

What he needed was to get rid of his mounting case of blue balls that had him on edge 24/7.

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#ssshchallenge #writing challenge #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson #ivar lothbrok fic #vikings fanfic #vikings fandom #vikings fanfiction #ivar the bonelss #ivar's heathen army #modern ivar #aha #alex høgh andersen #alex andersen #Alex hoegh #alex hogh fanfiction #fanfic #userwaiting4inspiration #talk to me fic #vikings cast

[felicityfiction]

[bulletproof glass part 3] part 2

“choi san is dangerous”

those were the first words that hongjoong uttered after the fateful meeting in the warehouse. “maybe i underestimated him.”

yunho remembers hongjoong having a nightmare that night, ending with a loud shout of “YUNHO!” and the banging open of his door, a frenzied hongjoong barging in his room, gasping for air like someone was choking him. yunho remembers hongjoong startling him awake, only to have hongjoong gather him in his arms and mutter incomprehensible things into his ears while he just sat there, helpless and confused.

“they can’t take me, hyung. it’s okay. i’m here, i’m safe.”

a frantic shake of the head. “no, you’re not. i made you a target since the day i took you to see them. i shouldn’t have done that, but i couldn’t leave you alone.”

“i know, hyung. it’s alright. we’re okay. i can protect myself”

a muffled laugh. “as much as that gun is loaded, yunho, we both know you can‘t bring yourself to shoot.”

yunho purses his lips, drawing back and holding hongjoong at arms length. “i’ll shoot it if anyone threatens you, hyung. threatens us. you know that.”

hongjoong sighs, and wonders for the nth time why he brought this sweet soul into the tainted abyss of the underworld.

he sleeps much better after that, though, buried in 185cm of yunho.

“hello again, yunho ssi”

yunho, in his sleep deprived, coffee induced haze, barely recognises the person standing in front of him. “huh.” he manages to utter, sounding so incredibly dumb that even he himself winces. damn it, yunho. get it together

but then he realises he shouldn’t even be engaging with choi san, who’s holding a latte to his lips and grinning at him like they shared some kind of inside joke.

yunho thinks he should find a new cafe to frequent. he can’t keep being distracted by devilishly attractive mafia bosses while he‘s trying to work on his dissertation. shame, the coffee here is the best he’s had in a while.

“what do you want.” he sighs out, not bothering to try and intimidate san into going away. somehow,within three meetings, he already understands san more than most people do.

choi san cannot be cowed.

“like i said last time, nothing. just wanted to say hi. and good luck on whatever you’re doing, it looks difficult.” choi san hums, still staring at him, and yunho, much to his horror, finds the tips of his ears going hot.

san’s grin morphs into a smirk. “i told you before, yunho- we’ll probably be meeting a lot. and it’s probably to my benefit that you look cute almost all the time. even holding a gun.”

what is this guy‘s problem?!

yunho grits his teeth, willing himself to ignore the man. “i am busy. go away.”

“of course, of course. see you soon, cutie.” san winks, and to yunho’s horror, the blush on his ears creeps onto his cheeks.

“i hope not.”

“darling, we don’t always get what we want in life.” san chirps merrily, and yunho tenses. choi san is dangerous.

warning alarms go off in his head when san leans in closer, just like he did the last time they met. this time, yunho forces himself not to shrink away. he can’t shoot me in broad daylight. he’s a mafia boss, not an idiot.

“but i’m the exception. i always get what i want. and right now, jung yunho, i want you.”

yunho chokes on air, and san whirls around on his heels, strutting off, a satisfied smile decorating his chiseled features. making yunho flustered was his new favourite past time.

while yunho is still recovering, an employee brings out a piece of hazelnut cake and sets it on his table. yunho eyes it suspiciously. “sorry, i didn’t order that.”

“yes, but that gentleman just now did. told us to bring it to you. oh, and he left a message. enjoy, sir!”

a card is slipped onto his table, and yunho can’t resist.

eyeing the cake and gingerly picking up the fork with his left hand, he turns the card around with his right hand and blinks.

you intrigue me, jung yunho. hazelnut is your favourite right? i bet you’re wondering how i know, though the answer won’t surprise you. i’ll get to know you more, and maybe you’ll want me to know you too.

by the way, my name is san, since you never use it. here’s my number. i trust you won’t do anything with it, but maybe save it. i’ll see you again.

for gods’ sake. was a mafia boss flirting with him?

“san. what’s your intention with yunho?”

“god, seonghwa, you’ve asked me that so many times. i told you, he’s a bit of fun and amusement. such an innocent thing. maybe i want to ruin him. who knows? i just like messing with him.”

seonghwa pursed his lips, eyeing san cautiously while he spins in his leather chair behind his gigantic desk.

“there’s no time for amusement.”

you have to kill him.

“that’s where you are wrong, my dear stick in the mud.” san tuts at him. “there’s always time for fun, and jung yunho is the best fun i’ve had in a while.”

“usually you sleep with the fun on the first try.” seonghwa deadpans.

san laughs, and then contemplates. “true. but he knows me, knows what i am. he’ll take more effort, if i want to go there. but strangely, i’m not sure that’s what i even want out of him.”

“why do you care so much about him?” seonghwa bites his tongue, regretting his statement immediately when he sees san tense.

“i don’t. i’m just bored, seonghwa. don’t get anything screwed up inside your head.”

god, seonghwa wants to tell him so bad.

they’re going to make you kill him

stay away from him

i don’t want you to hurt

“i’ll have him soon. and then i won’t want him anymore, just like all the others.” san whirls around in his chair to face the window, the view of seoul greeting him. “they’re all so easy.”

seonghwa knows jung yunho isn’t easy. he’s not a toy, and he won’t fall for san.

at least, seonghwa hopes he won’t. he hopes that jung yunho is intelligent and cares enough about his own wellbeing to stay away from san. then maybe the elders would reconsider his target, and seonghwa won’t have to look hongjoong in the eye and tell him that his little brother is about to be killed-

seonghwa grips his phone tightly, standing outside an apartment smack in the middle of hongdae. he’s trying to decide whether or not to knock, when the door opens and decides for him.

kim hongjoong stands before seonghwa, in all the glory that one can at 4am in the morning.

“the fuck?” is the only thing he gets in lieu of a greeting.

seonghwa can’t help the little smile that crawls onto his face, or the little flame of warmth that blooms, just for a split second, in his heart.

this apartment is hongjoong’s secret hideout, away from all the filth and burden that he carries in his day to day life.

somehow, seonghwa has been let in on the secret.

“hey.” seonghwa manages, biting his lips to keep from spilling everything out.

“do you need something?” hongjoong’s voice is husky, and seonghwa feels slightly apologetic for waking him up. especially since he has no idea why he’s there, other than the fact that his feet took him there of their own accord.

so he decides to be honest. “wanted to see you. that’s all. i can go now.”

he doesn’t move, registering hongjoong’s slight widening of his eyes and the way he seems to be more alert.

god, if choi san knew how dangerous it was to be so, so attracted to the enemy, maybe he would stay away. but seonghwa is a hypocrite.

kim hongjoong is his biggest secret.

there’s a pale hand on his wrist, tugging him into the apartment, and seonghwa complies easily.

he has always, always been weak for kim hongjoong.

here, in this apartment, he tosses aside his persona as a senior member of the choi mafia, and hongjoong sheds the title of leader. at least for a while, they both pretend like they’re just normal people, enjoying each other’s company

and maybe they both secretly entertain the thought that they might be normal people, who don’t want to let each other go.

within each meeting on opposite sides, with the threat of dying ever present, hongjoong will never admit it, but he doesn’t think he could shoot seonghwa. or hurt him. or do anything besides gather the taller man into a tight embrace and press his lips against the tatoo on his neck. the insignia of his gang. maybe, if he kisses it hard enough,it will fade away and hongjoong can take him into his arms without feeling like he’s playing with fire.

there’s not supposed to be trust between them. but seonghwa bares his neck a bit more, and he knows he’s long gone , unable to stay away from hongjoong.

if it came down to it, they’d both shoot themselves before they would each other. of course, neither of them says that, because that would mean crossing a line that they couldn’t afford to. they’d trip over the web of strings and not be able to catch themselves. on the surface, they don’t speak of each other. but at night, seonghwa’s thoughts flit over to hongjoong automatically.

and seonghwa wants.

he wants so,so badly.

and he’s scared that san wants, too.

san, who covers for him silently and doesn’t use hongjoong as leverage against seonghwa. san, who has so much more on the line.

charming, seductive choi san, who wouldn’t be able to realise he’s in too deep because he thinks himself invincible and beyond attachment.

in hongjoong’s bedroom that night, buried under the sheets, seonghwa prays and prays, but he feels hopeless.

he’s always prayed to wake up the next day and still be here, next to hongjoong without a gun between them.

but tonight, he thinks of san.

there’s a mountainload of guilt in his chest. the knowledge that san will be tasked to kill, and seonghwa will be forced to choose between two sides of himself that have been clashing from the beginning

in his heart, seonghwa knows. he knows because he can read san like an open book. he’s grown up with san, and he feels suffocated at the thought that san doesn’t know himself as well as he thinks. san is plunging head first into the deep end.

san’s falling, and seonghwa might not be able to catch him.

A/N: i really didnt think this through. i dont know how i want the story to develop because i am an impatient prick who wants to get to the climax but can’t put together a good enough storyline to get there and shfhnfew i’m so frustrated

#ateez yunho #ateez #fanfic #kpop #ateez seonghwa #ateez hongjoong #ateez san #seongjoong #yunsan #mafia au

[my-one-true-l]

Wammy's boys being comforted by their s/o after a nightmare (microfics or hcs - whichever you prefer). Please take care and don't overwork yourself ❤

Oh, Dear Anon, I love this. Thank you… 🖤

L

Crimson runs in streams across the floor towards me. It’s pouring from her abdomen.

Bloody words are coughed from her mouth.

“Run.”

But I’m not fast enough.

“Fight.”

But I’m too small.

There were no more instructions for me.

…She would never give me an instruction again…

A large unfamiliar hand grabs me by the collar.

I close my eyes.Tightly.

“Please don’t hurt me…”

With a hard gasp, L startled awake. His chair swiveled beneath him as he looked about HQ, desperately trying to find his bearings.

“Again?” They said to him with empathy as they put what they were reading on the end table.

His eyes land on them and he nods.

They held outstretched arms towards him. He got up and crawled over the arm of the couch and across the cushions, then sprawled himself on top of them before tucking his legs up against his chest. They wrap their arms around the ball of a detective that had just buried his face into their neck.

“I should have woken you. You so rarely get sleep and you’re so quiet sometimes when you have a nightmare. I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.” They kissed the top of his head, nuzzling their face into his soft black mane.

“It’s not your responsibility to know when I’m having a nightmare.” The muffled words absorbed into their neck. “You never fail me when I need you afterwards.”

“Was it…”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not now, please. I just want to be here in the moment with you until it fades.”

Near

L stands before me with his hands shoved into his pockets, staring me down with heavily shadowed eyes.

He slowly fades from existence.  

Matt steps up to take his place. His goggles are fogged over and I can’t see if he is looking at me.  

He slowly fades from existence.  

Mello is now where Matt had been. There is no mistaking that he is, in fact, glaring at me.

He slowly fades from existence.  

Roger?

No answer.

Rester?No answer.

Gevanni?

No answer.

An invisible crushing weight pushes me to the floor. I take solace in my usual thinking crouch, trying to brunt all of it on my back.

…Just as it flattens me.

Near opens his eyes and is greeted with the familiar glow from the wall of screens that line his HQ. He let a heavy sigh escape his lungs. He hates when he falls asleep in HQ. That’s when the dreams visit him. He stands up and stretches his arms over his head in a v shape before straightening his pj top so the buttons were facing forward again. He heads down the corridor to their room, dragging his feet the whole way.

He carefully opens the door and stood at the foot of the bed. It was only moments before his Love opens their eyes to see Near staring at them while they sleep.

“Uh, oh. You alright?” They ask, used to him behaving this way when his sleep was disturbed.

“Yes. Dreams cannot cause you harm.”

They lift the side of the blanket. “Come on. Get in.”

Near didn’t hesitate to curl up next to them. They tucked the blanket close around him in an attempt to make him feel secure.

“It’s going to be ok. I promise.”

“I know.” He twirled his finger in his hair unusually hard before asking, “Can we get Bunsy and read the next story in ‘What Men Live By and Other Tales’?”

They smiled kindly at him and grabbed the stuffed rabbit and the Tolstoy from the nightstand.

“Here you go.” They handed him Bunsy and he cuddled it close to his chest as they open to where they left off, “In the town of Surat, in India, was a coffee-house where many travellers and foreigners from all parts of the world met and conversed.”

Near closed his eyes and drifted to the sound of their voice, soothed in the thought that he didn’t have to bear the weight of being L completely alone after all.

Mello

It’s foggy.

No.

It’s smoky.

I can’t see what’s around me. I can’t see a way out.

Is there a way out?

It’s hot. Very hot. The flames touch me.

I can’t feel them.

They’re too hot.

I’m outside. I don’t remember how I got here.

How did I get here?

My skin feels wrong.

No.

I can’t feel my skin at all.

It’s raining. I’m wet.

No.

I’m…

Mello awoke with a gasp. His body was drenched in a sweat that only panic can bring on. He ran his hand through his hair, removing the dampened strands that clung to his face.

The sheets were soaked. He was soaked. He rubbed his face and groaned as he peeled himself off the mattress.

“Melly, you ok, Honey?” They turned over to look at him.

“Yeah. Freaking dreams again, but I’m fine.” He was sorry he woke them. He didn’t like looking weak and having nightmares was something little kids suffer from.

“You want to talk to me?”

“Nope. I’m gonna shower, though. I feel nasty.”

Knowing Mello as well as they do, they knew not to push it, but there were other ways to care for him after an episode like this. They got up and listened for the water to start running.  Quickly, they stripped the mattress and put fresh sheets on. No one wanted to get back into a sweat-dampened bed. Aside from it being uncomfortable, it would just remind Mello of his dreams.

They went to the kitchen and got him a glass of water for his nightstand. He was going to be thirsty when he calmed down. They opened the top drawer of their dresser and grabbed a king-size chocolate bar and put it with the water. Then they quietly got back into bed as though they had been there the whole time.

Mello knew better.  He slinked up next to them and spooned them, making him feel like the protector, even though it was really making him feel safe.

“Thank you.” Was all he said.

“Anytime, Melly.  Anytime.”

Matt

Everything is bigger than me.

Everything.

She isn’t moving.

Why isn’t she moving?

A cigarette burns in the ashtray.

Suddenly I’m driving. No one can catch me. I’m no longer small.

I look in my rearview. No one is chasing me. I look forward.

Mello.

I slam on the breaks, but I can’t stop.

He bounces up onto the hood. His rigid body cracks the windshield.

Blood. Everywhere.

I get out.

“I always knew you’d end me one day.” The bloody figure that use to be Mello taunts me.

“And I always knew I’d let you down.”

Matt wakes silently. He carefully sits up and dangles his legs over the side of the bed, leaning his elbows on his knees as he buries his face into his hands.

He feels a soft hand on each shoulder. “It’s ok. Whatever it is, it’s ok.”

“I was quiet. How do you always know?”

“Just do.” They lean forward and kiss the back of his neck. “Your mother or Mello?”

“Both.”

“That sucks. Do you want to talk about it?”

Matt turns and sits up in bed, knees bent towards his chest with his arms hugging his knees. “Yeah, I would.”

They sit next to him and wrap a blanket around the both of them.

“So tell me all about it.”

“I could see her plain as day, like she was sitting right in front of me…”

Beyond Birthday

3, 2, 1……

She’s gone.

Lonliness…white walls and hardwood, happy kids everywhere, happier than me anyway.

L.

No one wants B…Backup to L…They all want L. They all wish I was L.  

The mirror doesn’t look like me. Sleep-deprived eyes and messy dark hair speak from the reflection. “Even you prefer me to yourself.” My fist shatters the glass making a thousand shards, each piece containing  L…

“FUCK!” Beyond sat up violently in their bed, sweat running down his forehead. He violently thrashes at the sheets that tangled themselves around him, restraining him from escaping the thoughts that torment him.

“It’s ok, I got you.” They sit up and rub gentle circles between his shoulder blades. “I’ve always got you.” They wipe the sweat from his forehead then caress the side of his face.

“I need to pace. I need to outrun it.” Beyond stands up and puts a t-shirt on as he heads out of their bedroom.

His Love grabs a sweater and puts it on over their pajamas before following him. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk. You choose where.”

“What are you doing?” He looks at them with confusion.

“You think I’m going to leave you alone? You’re wrong.” They slip their hand into his and together they roam the dark city streets at 4am until he feels better.

🖤 🖤 🖤 This has been one of my favorites 🖤 🖤 🖤 

#L Lawliet #Nate River #Mihael Keehl #Mail Jeevas #Beyond Birthday #death note headcanons #Death Note #DN #Microfics #Ask #Answered #Anonymous #Near #Mello #Matt #BB #L

[khaoticallykat]

◇The Prince and The Punk◇

Chapter 4: What Happened To You?

Summary: Clarrisa come overs unexpectedly

Word count: 1,668

Warnings: 18+, trauma, abuse, sexual assault/non-con

A/n: This chapter is a little dark, just so you know.

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

You were startled awake by the sound of the fire alarm going off, quickly freeing yourself of the mess of blankets you rushed downstairs to see Ransom cursing and coughing, "fuck! Shit! Fuck this shit!" He was fanning what could only be burnt bacon, he picked up the frying pan and tossed it into the sink. 

"What the fuck happened in here?" As you got closer to the counter, you saw the mess of food that Ransom tried to cook, eggs were undercooked, pancakes looked like bricks and the bacon was burnt to a crisp. You could really only pity him for trying. 

"Hey, Y/n, good morning! I made breakfast!"

"I'm not eating this." 

"Neither am I!" 

You sighed, "You can't cook, do you need help?"

"Please?" 

Out of all the things you would do, you never imagined teaching Ransom how to cook would be one of them. You showed him how to properly scramble and cook eggs, how to make sure bacon doesn't burn and how to make pancakes soft and fluffy. He followed in every step, careful to not start a fire. When it was all done, Ransom looked astonished at your skills. 

"This is amazing," he smiled, cutting into his pancakes, "never thought I'd learn how to cook." 

"I fear for the life you'll have in the future if you can't even cook breakfast," you sighed, "I'll teach you if you want." 

"I would love that." 

You and Ransom finished eating and cleaned up, even getting into a small bubble fight with the dishwater. 

"You should go hop in the shower, I'll wash your stuff, I at least know how to use a washer and dryer," He laughed, "bathrobes are in the closet."

"Don't set my clothes on fire Ransom, or I'll burn all your sweaters." You made your way back up the stairs and to the bedroom, grabbing your clothes into a pile by the door and taking a bathrobe from the closet, you walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind you. Turning on the shower, you stripped off the clothes Ransom gave you and let the hot water run off your body. 

Moments later a rapid knocking came to the door, you sighed in annoyance, "don't you have your own bathroom?" You called out, turning off the water and wrapping the robe around you. You opened the door to see a panicked Ransom on the other side, "did you seriously burn my clothes?" 

"Worse, Clarissa is here, she's just pulled in the driveway," He huffed "this looks bad." 

Your eyes widened, you realized how bad this would look if Clarissa saw you here, "This does look bad, what the hell are we gonna do?" 

He reached in and turned off the bathroom light, "stay in here, I'll be back for you." 

Ransom made his way down the stairs to see Clarissa arriving at the front door, when he reached the last step he heard a dull thump from upstairs. He could only hope that you dropped something, rather than injure yourself in the dark bathroom. A panicked guilt settled in as he opened the door to see his bright eyed girlfriend on the other side, she was in a good mood, he hoped that he could get her to leave fast. 

"Ransom! Babe!" She wrapped her arms around him, smothering his face with kisses. 

"Hey, I thought you and the girls were going to that vacation house? Did the plans change? He asked, still standing in the door frame with her.

"We're actually leaving soon, the storm fucked up our plans," she pushed passed him and walked into the warm house, "I just came to see you before I go." Her voice dropped to a seductive tone.

"Well I'm glad you came by, but I'm a little hungover from last night with the guys, they dropped me off here around 4am." Ransom still held the door open, little speck of snow breezing in.

Clarissa frowned, "But Rannnsommm," she whined, pulling him in, hands brushing down his chest. "You're not going to make me feel good before I go?" 

Ransom's face and neck were turning pink, "Clarissa, babe, please," he groaned, her hands trailed lower into his sweatpants, lips kissing down his neck, "I told you I don't feel good." 

"You have a hangover, fucking will make you feel so much better." she reached into his boxers to slowly stroke him, Ransom's hands pushing her gently away. 

"I said no."

 Clarissa huffed, "Ransom, fuck me right now," She swiped his hands away before pushing him to the couch in the living room, "stop acting like a little bitch, I hate it when you're like this sometimes." 

Ransom sat on the couch while Clarissa strangled his hips, slowly grinding on him, he did everything in his power to stop the erection forming in his pants. 

"See? I can always change your mind," She giggled, pulling his pants down, "you just have to stop fighting me." 

Ransom eyes widened in fear as his shaky hands tried to push his girlfriend off but he felt small and weak under her. Until he had a quick and messy idea, an idea to get her to leave. Ransom's stomach lurched as a small burp escaped him, Clarissa ignored the sound but he was quick to throw her off and run to the kitchen sink with his pants down and throwing up his breakfast into the sink. 

"Oh god!" Clarissa screamed, "ew, Ransom!" She rushed to the door, "Text me when you're not throwing up! Fucking disgusting." 

The door slammed shut and Ransom breathed a sigh of relief, he quickly rushed to lock the door and run back upstairs to you. 

"Y/n? I'm back, open the door."

You turned on the light in the bathroom, creaking open the door slightly to see a shaken Ransom, "What happened? Are you ok?" You asked, fully opening the door, robe wrapped tightly around you. 

"I just threw up my breakfast to get Clarissa to leave, so yeah, just peachy." He chuckled, stepping into the bathroom to brush his teeth, "I heard something drop up here, what happened to you?" 

You limped over to the toilet by the sink and sat down, "slipped on my ass in the door," you rubbed your hip in pain, "but I don't think anything is broken." 

Ransom finished up and had a shameful look on his face, "I'm sorry you got hurt," He knelt in front of you, "I'm sorry for getting you into this." 

You saw his eyes begin to water, you placed a hand gently on his cheek, "Ransom, what did she do to you?" 

He shook his head, "Don't worry about it."

"No, I'm going to worry about it, I heard what happened between you two this week at your grandfather's, she hit you, didn't she?" 

Ransom's shoulders tensed as he moved away from you, "No. I mean, it was a tap." 

"Ransom, stop lying to me, I'm your friend," you knelt on the floor in front of him, "what did she do to you? You flinched when I was gonna smack you in the car and you came back looking terrified." 

He sighed, eyes looking down at his hands, he told you what happened, the day he was hit and what just happened moments ago downstairs, by the time he was done he had tears running down his face. You carefully wiped them away and pulled him into a hug. 

"And you said this wasn't this first time she… did this to you?" You asked, he gave a silent nod into your shoulder, your arms wrapped tighter around him, "Ransom, I'm so sorry. She's abusing you, you understand that right? And what she did to you downstairs was assault, borderline rape." 

You were seething with hate at this moment, you always knew Ransom as someone who was strong and brave, but everyone had their weaknesses and you knew you had to do anything to help him. 

"We have to tell your parents, your grandfather, I know he'll-"

"No." He cut you off in a shaky voice. 

"But Ransom, you can't let this bitch-" 

"I SAID NO!" His hands gripping your arms as he pulled away from you, his face reddened, eyes full of fear, "no one, no one can know." 

"But why?!" You brushed his hands away, taking them into yours, "what kind of power does she have over you?"

Ransom drew a deep breath, jaw clenched, "I have to marry her after college, my parents are in debt to her family and I'm the payment." 

He told you the plan was that he will gain some sort of inheritance from his grandfather in his will, whatever he receives, will be given to Clarissa's family. He said that his parents ended up with this debt due to how much money they've put into their company, with Clarissa's parents helping them out, things soon turned bad when they weren't able to pay them back. 

So now this was his situation and yours.

"I'm gonna help you with this, you can't marry that bimbo," you said, "even if it takes after we graduate." 

"At least there is some bright side to this." He chuckled, resting his forehead against yours.

"And what's that?" 

"I got you." there was a moment of silence between you two, Ransom's face in a full blush while you stared back, gnawing on your bottom lip, it wouldn't be so bad to give him a kiss, would it? It would, he's taken but in the wrong way. Do friends have moments like this? When they want to kiss each other and make everything better for just a moment?

You couldn't tell whose breathing sounded more nervous, or whose heart was pumping too loud in your ear. 

Thankfully, the growl of a stomach cut the tension as you both started laughing. 

"Hungry again?" You asked Ransom, standing up, "we should go get something to eat." 

"Yeah, let's go." He smiled. 

#kat writes #tp&tp #ransom drysdale x reader

[cardboardboxcomplex]

ok since i’m awake and useless, might as well

it’s 4AM on a monday at this point and i do *not* want to go to work. but i have to hhrghshfd HAAAAAA ok breathe . i skipped last week’s shift that i was supposed to go to the lab. i completely disappeared for the *third* time during my two-week wfh shift before that. when we were supposed to do the third quarter report, and the proposal. which are the hardest reports to do, bc they’ll be the basis for renewal next year. but i just ... disappeared again and did not open my emails or messages. again. after i did that twice before. and i had to go through the process of like apologizing to everyone for my absence, and i even decided to tell everyone that i have depression cos i dont know how to explain it ! why am i like this ! and i know it’s not an excuse, and i told them that too. but i just hate everything . okay i think im getting to word dump now. how many times am i going to be so incapable and incompetent? i hate myself so much cos my brain is so fried and i dont want to deal with anything . when was the last time i actually thought deeply or whatever or like read a journal article. and i dont even know what im supposed to be doing anymore.  i feel so sad. oh im crying ok. like im thinking of myself and how do i go on with life, what am i supposed to be doing, what kind of path should i be making. i hate this because i lost years of my life and i keep losing more time. and omfg right the paper. man i didnt even reply to sir’s emails either, and i know ate yana and josh had talked and i was supposed to be there too because im supposed to be the main one to finish her thesis for publication, and it’s already been a year? since she left the lab. had i done anything? i did not

and tomorrow is nov 10, and im supposed to do thesis updates ......... how the fuck am i gonna do that. and i had already missed the first time i was scheduled, bc well the same thing happening now. i was wfh (supposedly) and ate isay had to say my internet connection isnt stable. which wasnt a lie, but it was bc i didn’t do anything. i dont know what im supposed to come up with tomorrow. or if i can postpone it again. SEE THIS IS EXACTLY IT HOW MANY TIMES AM I GONG TO BE INCAPABLE AND INCOMPETENT

i dont know like im scared of being in the lab too and all i wanna do is stay in my room 

but you know what i dont even like my room. i miss my old room, i miss all my books, i miss all the memories i left there as in the physical things i’ve kept because i keep everything. full on bawling now. i miss having everything i’ve kept near me, with me. i miss my desk, i miss having one. and i hate my room because i haven’t cleaned my room in MONTHS. idk since march, since quarantine started? i can barely see the floor and i have to walk around all the bags with all stuff thrown in them. and honestly im just desensitizing (?) myself bc if i think too much if i look too closely im gonna throw up and i hate it i hate it . on that note i’ve been thinking i might in a constant state of dissociation, or at least a shallow one? i never thought i really dissociated bc i didnt really get the feeling of being apart from your body. but because it’s been going on for so long it didn’t even register to me that i’m dissociating because it feels normal or the baseline. and my memory recall is so bad, i don’t remember what happened the previous day. why? because i’m not even doing anything. or idk. also my attention span is non-existent. but the memory thing bothers me because i dont even know if i remember things from before before, in the past, not recently

before i forgot about the room, i was supposed to have pest control last oct 20? and it was scheduled like first week of october so i knew it was coming. but did i clean my room? in those weeks between? i didnt. i’d been putting it off exactly because my room is a mess and id ont want anyone to come in like this. so i had to postpone that too, and the next one is tomorrow. did i clean my room since then? no. what have i been doing? i dont know either. literally rotting away. and i feel so bad cos i m not even doing anything. i dont even know what. i cant get myself to do anything

what if someone helps me clean? i don’t want anyone to help me clean because i dont want anyone to see my room. ate isay was supposed to help me on that sunday or monday before oct 20 but the plan was i was going to start cleaning saturday so at least if she comes up to help, it wouldnt be so disgusting. but yeah i did not clean. and now it’s november. you know the last time i ironed my clothes? september. last year. september 1, 2019. i remember because that was jungkook’s birthday, but also i was ironing when i got the messages from someone when they were leaving me and didnt want (?) to be friends with me anymore. and that broke me really bad. but not the point rn. 

i dont know what else im thinking. oh i miss my friends. kosestream, if you’re reading this, yes i’m thinking of you too, and i’m really sorry. im so sorry ive kept disappearing on you guys for months. i’ve missed you and so many parts of your life, and im really really i wasnt there. and bc i don’t talk with you often, and with my awful memory, i also forget what’s been going on and it makes me feel awful because like i miss all these things about you? i always thought that i had kept tabs on everyone well, paying attention to what you’re doing, ask how things are with you, and now i dont. and im sorry. i always miss you so much, and i love you, and i dont know if that still means anything to you, but it’s still there. so thank you for inviting me to play among us, i liked hearing your voices. and i know you were worried about me (if im wrong this is embarrassing please ignore this) and were trying to cheer me up / offering your support/presence/love/shoulder/hug idk. so thank you. it meant a lot to me (but im sorry my internet was awful. honestly that stressed me out so much and i was gonna give up because i felt annoying and like a huge bother) but okay thank you 

and it’s the same with irl friends, missing things. i thought of it once as everything passing (by) me. like when neos had left for germany, i wasnt there. why? because i was rotting away at home doing nothing. i didnt even get to say goodbye. and just the same with everyone, i havent been talking with anyone. there are so many messages i’ve gotten i haven’t (didn’t) replied to, and it’s like god how are they. 

what else. ah there’s another thing i’ve thought of. but idk i’ll write that next time 

it’s monday, and it’s almost 5am now, i’m supposed to go to work. i have to text ate isay if she’s gonna pass by and pick me up. but i havent slept because i completely fucked up my sleeping schedule. and my room is still a mess. no i did not even try cleaning it even though i had been thinking about it literally every single day. should i just not sleep or should i try getting like an hour of sleep , and hope i wake up (actually, would love to not wake up, ever)

09 Nov 2020, M, 05:02 BTS – Butterfly (Alternative Mix) 

#white noise #i'll tag idk journal stuff that i guess #cos actually all my thoughts are not in words #until i turn them into words #which has gotten increasingly difficult #long post #idk should i tag that #idk who's actually following this acct #besides kosestream

[yespolkadotkitty]

The Hot Humid Night, pt 4

Part II ~ Part III

Geralt’s truck pulled up on Jaskier’s street, and the scant second the larger man cut the engine, Jaskier was out of the door. Roach barked impatiently, wanting to follow.

Geralt motioned for the dog to be quiet and then let him out of the vehicle, too.

“Fuck.” Jaskier dug in his pockets for his keys and came up empty. “I left the keys in the ignition, and the car exploded. That actually happened,” he muttered, feeling like he might vomit.

Geralt folded his arms. “Sorry for dragging you away from your death,” he said mildly.

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “Fuck,” he muttered again, but he found all the fight had drained out of him. “What shall we do? I’m on the ground floor.”

“Break a window?”

“That’s always your solution isn’t it? Brute force?”

Geralt shrugged. “It’s usually effective.”

Jaskier stalked up to the building, desperate to be alone and knowing it wouldn’t happen any time soon.

He cast around for the rock that was usually there, the one with the little kiss of pink on it.

“You keep a key under a rock ?” Geralt muttered, and Jaskier almost jumped out of his skin.

“Would you wear a bell? Jesus. And yes, I sometimes lock myself out, all right? Is that a crime?” He turned the rock, found the key in the little indent. “The main door is coded, but my apartment needs a key.”

Roach followed them round to the big main door. Jaskier inputted the code and a tired-looking foyer greeted them, one wall lined with nondescript mailboxes. Jaskier passed them without interest; mail could wait. He usually only got bills anyway.

The key fit snugly into the lock of Apartment 2. Jaskier almost stumbled inside, tiredness making his legs weak at the knees. He walked inside and stopped. Something felt… off.

Geralt shoved him aside. “Gas.”

“What-”

The larger man stalked through Jaskier’s apartment to the small stove, and shut the main switch off. “Your apartment stinks of gas, Jaskier.”

Now that it had been pointed out, Jaskier coughed on the thick, greasy stench of it, rushing to the kitchen window and opening it.

Geralt shook his head, expression grim. “Assuming the car explosion didn’t get you, you’d have come here, passed out from exhaustion, and probably never have woken up.”

Fear cut through Jaskier’s bone-deep tiredness and the mouse of panic skittered down his spine. “This is serious.”

“Oh really? What tipped you off?” Geralt drawled.

Roach had more sympathy, padding over to Jaskier and nosing at his hip. Grateful, Jaskier sank down on to the old grey sofa - a bargain at a yard sale a year ago - and let the dog climb up into his lap. Roach’s tail swished lazily as he snuggled in.

“Traitor,” Geralt muttered, but began what looked like, to Jaskier, an intensely thorough exploration of the apartment. “Who else has access?” he called from the bathroom.

“No one. Well, Yen I guess. And then there was that time I gave a key to this guy I was seeing, but it didn’t work out-”

“You just give keys to your lovers?” Geralt snarled from the direction of the shower.

“Well, he needed a place to crash for a few nights, and - you know what? We are not having this conversation. I don’t need to justify my life to you.”

He didn’t hear a response. Presumably Geralt was busy judging him some more based on the clutter of his apartment. “Whatever,” he muttered, and suddenly he was pressing his lips closed, trying not to cry.

Roach whined in sympathy, cuddling closer, and before he knew it, Jaskier was burying his face in the malamute’s soft grey fur, tears streaming from his eyes, his body shuddering.

When he lifted his head to take a breath, Geralt stood over him silently, his amber eyes soft. “Fuck,” he murmured.

Jaskier swiped at his eyes. “Just fuck off, why don’t you? With your silent judgement and your inability to say more than three words at once. And you obviously wish I’d been in that car when it went boom.”

He expected Geralt to swipe back, wanted it. Wanted the big, angry fight.

Instead, the taller man simply sank down next to him on the grey sofa and draped his arm over Jaskier, with a sigh.

As much as he tried to resist out of spite, Jaskier was so tired, and so spent, and instead of storming off to bed like the brat he wanted to be, he just leant into Geralt’s solid warmth and closed his eyes.

Some time later, he jerked awake. He was alone, laying on the sofa. He blinked a few times to clear his head. Something tickled his hand and he peered over the edge of the sofa to see Roach lapping at his fingers. So Geralt hadn’t left. Why that reassured him so, he couldn’t say.

He yanked his phone from his pocket. 4am. Ugh. Well, it looked like he wouldn't need those PJs that he had insisted Geralt stop here to get.

“Oh good, you’re awake.” Geralt appeared from the direction of the bedroom.

“Barely.” Jaskier rubbed his eyes, still bleary. “What now?”

“Now we go to my place and I tell my boss what happened. Yennefer knows.”

“And did she say?” Jaskier stretched, trying to ease the kinks out of his shoulders, and not really succeeding. “I never thought it was possible to hear the raise of an eyebrow over the phone until I met her.”

Geralt chuckled, and Jaskier saw with surprise that he was handsome when he smiled. No, gorgeous. Wow. “Yes, she manages to convey a lot without words. She hopes you’re okay.”

“She said that?”

“Well, she asked if you were alive.”

“Hmmm, that’s emotional, for her.” Jaskier yawned hugely. “Coffee before we go? Please, I’m barely human without it.” He stood up, heading for the bathroom. “And are we not going to talk about…. Earlier? When you hugged me?”

Geralt was already opening cupboards and taking out mugs. “Why? You didn’t like it?”

Jaskier opened his mouth, then shut it again. “No, I did. I mean…” He pushed his hands through his hair, overtired, still. “Thankyou,” he finished, then closed the bathroom door before he could further make an ass of himself.

This chapter not beta read (we die like men).

Tagging: @eshra27​ @hopelessromanticspoonie​ @just-the-hiddles​ @mysterioussailorman​ @alexakeyloveloki​ @bardic-charm​ @promptandpros​ @whitewolfpup-ciri​

#geraskier fic #jaskier x geralt #geralt x jaskier #the witcher fic #geraskier au