#like five really deserved to rage right then

[loaksbitch]

the long awaited part two is here! — imagine neteyam is now suffering from his own actions, everything turning to a hell for him, he’s even distant to his family… and you? you’ve decide this is enough and feel like you don’t belong here so you tell neteyam you’re leaving the clan soon and neteyam feels like salt is added to his open wound when he hears about that.

warning – neteyam cries 2.0 (i’m evil, i know) angst angst angst! mention of y/n’s adoptive mom, nete kinda slips from his own body and loses control, nete stills cause oc with pet names :(, vulgar language, did i mention its angst? yeah maybe i did but again we have ANGST!! 3.1k wc.

“i can’t trust you” — neteyam sully (★,꩜)

part (one) – (three) — (four) of this series.

right after you left the love of your life, where you gave yourself to him, you couldn’t stop crying mess.

rage, confusion and pain blinding your eyes you didn’t care how the na’vi gave you glances every time you passed them without greetings given back.

you’re now in front of your mother’s shelter and swallow the lump on your throat not wanting her to see you like that. you push yourself inside and turn your face to the side so she won’t notice your puffy eyes.

“hi ma,” you greet her and her ears instantly perk up at your warm tone. “my sweet child, you cam– what’s wrong?” she knew you like no one did, you adoptive mother read you like a book.

when she finally asks what’s wrong you instantly breakdown in front of her, “mama.” you cry as the na’vi stumbles to you hurriedly, “what is it baby? what’s wrong?” she keeps wiping the tears that fall

this felt like the first time she found you lost in the woods, right after your biological mom abandoned you.

crying, scared and open.

“it hurts, make it stop ma, please make it stop.” your chest heaves up and down. your mother instantly knew something happened between you and neteyam, of course she’d know about the two of you.

“he…” you can’t even finish the sentence, “lied, he lied.” you struggled and your mother sighs

“oh my baby,” she pulls you for a hug and you hide your face into the crook of her neck crying again. no matter how she tighten her hold on your violently trembling body, she couldn’t stop the shattering feeling of your heart

you stood there hugged and vulnerable, seeking for comfort from your mother.

then there’s neteyam, who got to deal with the pain he created alone and secretly, he didn’t even get the chance to cry or comfort himself.

your words echoing in his drained mind, neteyam climbs back to his hammock. “i. hate. you.” those three words were enough to convince him you really do hate him. neteyam lied to you and you hated being lied, he knew everyone from your childhood lied to you

he knew it took you so much of sacrifice to give him a chance, he knew yet he destroyed you, he destroyed your heart. he can never forgive himself for that and he doesn’t want you to forgive him either.

neteyam chooses to suffer double than watch you break like that? he actually wishes you’d kill him right now but then again he deserves to live with this pain.

“i’m sorry.” he whispers as if you’re next to him and hearing him apologize. neteyam leans on the tree that’s helping the hammock stand in the middle of his room and slowly slides down to sit on the mat

“i’m so sorry, princess.” he knew you’ll never let him in again.

neteyam brings his legs to his chest and puts his arms on his knees before using them to lay his head. silent yet deep sobs left his lips as his chest tightened.

how was he supposed to live without you? without your skin against his? without your scent in him, without your smile to start his day… most importantly, without your love.

and now that neteyam have came to realize that, the perfect little solider has finally became defeated.

“i’m sorry.” he kept apologizing as he drifted to sleep, his beautiful face stained with tears.

and now five days passed, neteyam became distant with his family. no more breakfast eating with them, no more tuk and him moment, no more staying up all night with lo’ak and kiri to cause trouble.

no more in love with everything and colorful neteyam.

and his mother didn’t fail to notice him, notice how his behavior has changed. “something’s wrong with our son, ma jake, there’s something so wrong.” jake hums thinking neteyam is just getting more and more stronger and only practicing

“he’s just focusing on himself and training my love, you don’t have to worry.” jake says as he sharpens his weapons for the next war party

“no, you don’t understand” neytiri places her hand on jakes shoulder worriedly as their son kept himself inside his hammock, not wanting to interact with anyone of them. “he barely eats and drinks, barely plays with tuk she even started to ask for him.”

neytiri continued, “all he does is spend time on training, overworks himself and sneaks inside at midnight thinking i wouldn’t notice.”

jake frowns, this was new.

“neteyam started sneaking?” jake’s surprised tone makes netyiri sigh. he’s not taking things serious. “ma jake.” she warns when he tries to joke with a “neteyam’s finally being a spoiled brat huh?”

“okay okay, sorry but i’ll talk to him” jake cups his mates face and smiles, “maybe he’s having a hard time with being the future leader of the clan,” jake sighs “or maybe his new mate? he’s trying build some muscle, baby, don’t overthink it.”

neytiri only closes her eyes as they’re both sat in their hammock. “alright.” she voiced out.

right when jake was about to place a kiss on his wife’s lips, neteyam pulls the hanging fabric to the slide and walked straight to the front door. both his parents flinch at his sudden appearance.

“where you going, son?” both of them ask in unison making neteyam halt his steps.

“training and hunting.” he doesn’t turn to face them and neytiri insists. “you’ve been going out too much lately, nete’ don’t you think you need a break?”

“i’m fine mother.” with that being said, neteyam leaves the hammock while jake comforts his wife whose eyes tear up in worry.

neteyam didn’t fail to notice how his mother sounded worried and he hated that he caused that, but he doesn’t want them to figure out what’s wrong. he can’t risk your safety if they find out without you two communicating.

what if they hurt you? what will he do?

“look who’s finally out,” familiar voice sips to neteyam’s ears and neteyam closes his eyes, can they not just leave him alone? no, not really. lo’ak chuckles as he swings down the branch he was hanging on and jumps next to his brother

“where’re you going big bro?” lo’ak asks but gets ignored, “hey, you know i’m talking to you…”

“leave him skxawng, he’s in his emo arc.” kiri lets a sarcastic laugh out making the heartbroken man annoyed. “yeah? he’s seriously ignoring his one and only siblings” lo’ak keeps pushing his older brother

“can you guys leave? i want to be alone if you can’t see.” neteyam hisses under his breath but it falls to deaf ears. “damn bro, look at those growing muscles.” lo’ak turns to his sister and chuckles

“must be for his future mate, äyea.”

now lo’ak did a little bit of a mistake here, neteyam was now breathing through his nose, jaw clenched as he got his brother pinned to one of the trees. “i fucking told you to leave me alone, didn’t i? and don’t even dare to bring that name up here, again.”

lo’ak’s eyes are widened when his brother has him pinned to the tree, something dangerous flashes in his amber eyes and lo’ak lets a soft gasp out before being his hands up on air as a surrender.

“can you two stop? you guys are so immature.” kiri huffs out but neteyam only glares at his brother, “neteyam!” she calls out and once neteyam gains himself back, his eyes widens at the state. “shit, sorry.” his ears flatten, “i’m sorry lo’ak.”

both siblings take a glance at each other and lo’ak awkwardly chuckles. “it’s all good bro, you okay?” neteyam only nods before pushing himself out far away from everyone.

everywhere he goes, he kept hurting people and it’s destroying him.

once he was far enough from everyone he couldn’t help but allow himself to walk to the familiar place he finds comfort. the first place he saw you and got swept with love right away.

meanwhile neteyam was walking there you’ve actually managed to leave your hammock after days, well not managed but your mother was the one who threw you out to take some fresh air and communicate with eywa for a while

you couldn’t help but let you feet wander and take you to one of the places that are dear to you in pandora and your village. it was the shores that had glowing fish. the first time you met neteyam and you got your whole body woken up with butterflies.

you’re squat and twirling your hand in the edge of the ocean when you softly giggle as the glowing fish touches your hand with its soft fins. but that giggle didn’t live long when instant memories flood your mind.

“this one is honestly pretty.” you watch the glowing fish circle your feet that’s dipped in the ocean with your man next to you and you hear him hum agreeing but his eyes were only on you

“it really is.” he murmurs and when you notice it, you can’t help but realize your cheeks are heated up.

that was when you two shared your first kiss, of course it was a shy moment but on eywa you swore how good neteyam was, he was basically eating your face. “nete,” you’d sigh to his mouth when he leans and pressed his forehead against yours.

“it’s okay, it’s okay.” he would calm you by pulling you close to him as you’re both hanging your legs in the ocean. he would always place kisses on your skin every time you panic, thinking you’re doing something wrong

you missed that moment, you miss him but you can’t let those feelings win over and forget what he did.

you pull your hands out from the water, pushing those memories away and adjust your balance while you’re still squat and put your chin on your knees. “i miss him,” you speak and watch the fish wiggle around and smile, “you miss him too?” you ask it as if it would reply

you didn’t notice the subtle movement that’s made behind you in the woods as you talk to the animal you playfully adopted as your child with neteyam

neteyam in other hand freezes at his spot when he notice your familiar figure by the edge of the ocean. you’re silent before you let a soft giggle out and neteyam breathes out a laugh as he felt his eyes whelm

he really missed that sound of yours.

“i miss him,” your words catch his ears and his tail swings side to side like a dog. “you miss him too?” you ask as if you’re talking to someone and neteyam catches the fish you two jokingly adopted wiggling at your touch

his heart swells up with emotions.

you still haven’t noticed your used to be man watching you from the woods and sigh before deciding it’s time to leave, you need to distract yourself before you soon start to cry again

once you’re up on your feet, you turn around and your eyes catch the shadow of the tall figure with its tail moving. you let a loud scream out, startled and stumble on your feet only to trip and fall to the ocean.

“fuck!” neteyam curses when your eyes catch his and you’re instantly falling to the water.

“no, no, no!” neteyam was quick to run to you, you suddenly feel someone pull you and snoop you to their arms around your body before stomping out of the water to get you out of there

you’re confused and want to know who it is until a familiar scent helps you recognize who that was, you wanted to call his name out so badly but you just kept yourself silent until he got you to the sand.

once neteyam places you on your feet, you’re bombed with question about safety.

“did you get hurt? want me to carry you? baby, talk to me!” you don’t miss the pet name and don’t know know which to answer. “can you shut up?” you ask and he instantly obeys, “mhm.”

“i’m okay, thanks.” you’re curious to know what he was doing here.

“what’re you doing here?”

“what are you doing here?” he questiones back and your stomach drops. ‘because i miss you?’ you wanted to say but chose to stay silent and start to leave when neteyam suddenly grabs your hand. you’re stood there for a moment before you’re slowly turning to give him a deadly glare.

“what did i say about touching me?”

you’re so dominant it drives him insane, but neteyam heard you say you’re missing him and he has now some hope to relay that you still love him. “can we talk?” his voice is almost silent when he says that

“there’s nothing to talk about.” you dryly reply

neteyam nods and adjust the bow on him he brought for hunting, letting go of your wrist and you instantly miss the warmth but doesn’t show it. “i want to explain that–“

“you don’t need to explain yourself to me like you owe me something neteyam, it’s over for us.” you watch him battle himself from breaking down and swallows hard. you feel the atmosphere turn awkward.

“i heard you, y/n” you glance away from him feeling caught at stealing something. “you said you miss me.” his freckles are glowing and it makes you want to run your fingers on his skin where they exactly are.

“i do miss you” you’re honest and didn’t miss his little whimper when you say that. “but that doesn’t mean i’m not working on to get rid of those feelings.” your words hurt like a bullet being stuck in his chest and neteyam knew that feeling.

“you can’t say that,” he says, ears flattened and eyes hazed with hurt. “i can’t?” you sarcastically remark and scoff before trying to leave. “princes– y/n.” as much as him correctly himself from calling you his princess hurts you, again you manage to cover it up

neteyam feels his heart crack for the thousand times when you flinch away from his touch. “can you stop doing that?”you hiss and he knows you’re trying to protect yourself so bad, neteyam knows this is not you but the stupid shield you try to cover yourself with

“drop the act, y/n stop pushing me away.”

“you’ve a mate and i can’t do that to your future love so don’t touch me.” you’re using his actions against him to protect yourself. neteyam is annoyed now, he was to rip something apart or kill someone.

“look, i know i fucked up but that doesn’t mean…”

“yeah, it doesn’t mean anything, nothing matters.” you say and shut your eyes before taking a deep breath. his next words makes your brain rick in anger.

“can’t you just trust me?!” he dared to raise his voice at you. but in fact, neteyam was only raising his voice up to cover the quivering sound of his voice and stopping himself from crying in front of you

you take a step right to him and click your tongue.

“trust you?” you’re forcefully chuckling now. “i trusted you, neteyam, i trusted you so much but where did that lead me?” you’re poking his chest with your index and neteyam closes his eye before opening them and looking at you

you see something in him shift and realize he’s trying to make a progress.

“i can’t trust you…” you end up whispering the last part. “even if i want to, i just can’t.” you lean to him, dropping you forehead right to his chest and neteyam holds his breath. “i can’t, neteyam. i really can’t.”

as if he didn’t already hate himself more than this, he wishes he would just die at this point. you feel his hands grip your arms and pull you away from him a little far. one hand cups your cheek and he feels you lean to him for warmth.

there, right there was his y/n he knows.

“please,” he’s now begging. “let me make it right.”

you only lean to him to take his warmth one last time before opening your eyes and sighing. “nete’” you watch his breath hitch. “call me that again, please call me that again.”

“nete, i’m leaving.”

neteyam’s body freezes against you, “what?” is the only word he was able to let out. “what do you mean you’re leaving.” it wasn’t even a question, “me and my mom have decided and knows this place isn’t for us.”

you’ve been trying to let him know but you couldn’t until now and you take this opportunity to be close to him for the last time. “i don’t fit here, i’ve to leave.”

“what a..abo…about me?” he was now hyperventilating when he realize why you’ve accepted his touch on your body right now. “you’ve her, you’ve äyea.”

“don’t say that! please don’t say that– i’ve no one except you.” you’re trying to control the tears but neteyam was only making it hard. “neteyam.” your voice is quivering and neteyam shakes his head in denial

“no, don’t you care about me? no! NO!” he’s now holding your arms tight. “neteyam, please don’t make this hard.” you beg as tears start to roll down your pretty skin. “i have to leave!” you yell and neteyam instantly lets you go

he knew he deserved pain but not this one, neteyam didn’t want this he’ll never want this.

“when?” he’s now staring at you numbly. “huh?” you ask confused. “when’re you leaving?” you gulp and think before speaking.

“after your mating ritual, i’ll leave that night after yours and hers…” you stop when he shuts his eyes and blocks your words out. “i’ve to go, i can’t live like this! i don’t want to get hurt anymore.”

neteyam was nodding, stepping back from you. you feel guilty for just dropping it at him like that.

“so you’re saying if i haven’t caught you here i would never know and you would leave me?”

“i’m not leaving you, neteyam, you have äyea.” your words makes him snap.

“I DON’T WANT ÄYEA?!”

“don’t you dare yell at me for protecting myself.” you say and neteyam sniffs angrily. “you know what, i shouldn’t have told to you anything.” you suddenly push past him and walk fast.

neteyam clenches his jaw in anger and pain, no it won’t end like this. he won’t easily let you go like that, never.

enough is enough and nothing will easily end here.

guys it’s 3.1k and i had to stop there yeah? i feel like i might make part 3 and 4 but fr tho should i make it happy ending or sad ending? or maybe alternative ending— i love each and everyone of you sm! mwah!

taglist 𖤘 @eywas-heir @evanpetersluver @ayathehater @redbloond @brooklynscherry-z @spideyluves @littlethingsinlife @arminsgfloll @thesheelfsworld @traveleraroundsworld @giftfromthemoon @emarold @ilovehotdilfsz @kristalposts @raventommy @scryarchives @senpaitanakiuwu @willoswildworld @voniikg @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @dearmikewheeler @mcqsx @eitaababe @hafutoru @hestiasalvtore @trhaenyra @23victoria @littlerizzler @ripneteyam @scarletrosesposts @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n @omgily (others will be tags if i make part 3)

#neteyam sully #neteyam #neteyam fluff #neteyam smut #neteyam angst #neteyam gif #neteyam x reader #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #avatar #atwow #avatar the way of water #flop #fluff #smut #avatar 2009 #avatar smut #avatar 2 #jake sully #lo’ak sully #netyiri #tuktirey #jake sully smut #neteyam x you #miles quaritch #spider socorro #fanfic #avatar: the way of water #avatar ff #avatar gif #pandora gif

[forlix]

"better, now."

words・749 / pairing・hyunjin x gn!stylist!reader / includes・fluff, established relationship, alcohol consumption / note・an extremely self-indulgent kinda emo take on hyunjin @ vfw. takes place in the crying lightning universe.

Hyunjin is gone.

He stopped walking and started floating about five drinks ago, bode farewell to coherent sentences and his eyesight not too long after. Simply kept plucking flutes of champagne off trays carried around by kindred waiters and let himself bask in the glorious evening.

When his stylist shows up in front of him, he mistakes them for the moon.

Gentle hands push strands of sweaty hair out of his eyes, then move to cup his cheeks fondly, protectively, as if imprinting final touches into a snow angel. He watches your lips form his name from mere centimeters away, but the sound of it seems to travel underwater.

“Hyunjin,” you repeat, more audibly this time, a lick of crisp night air cutting through the afterparty’s steamy throng.

He proceeds to melt into you in ways he cannot currently control, sliding a hand over the one you have on the side of his face, fingertips dipping in the slots between yours. Bringing you close enough to him that your chest moulds right against his. Grinning at you with a sickening sweetness that he can taste on his own mouth.

“Hi,” he replies.

“You okay? How are you?” You inquire. “Do you need anything?”

“Hi,” he says again, because he can’t really think of anything else, and that seems to be answer enough.

Before he knows it, he’s walking somewhere, guided only by the arm that he has slung over your shoulders and your silhouette, just barely discernible in the dim venue, which he would follow to the ends of the earth.

An indeterminate amount of time later, he’s standing in the doorway of an unoccupied lounge. The tables of polished mahogany and gold foil have become graveyards of empty wine glasses, but the couch in the middle of the room has been left pristine.

Only after he sits down does the lightheadedness hit, and it hits hard, hard enough to shut his eyes and furrow his brow. His brain swings around the inside of his skull like a pendulum.

There is a delicate brush of your finger against his chin, your quiet request for him to lift it up, and then something hard and cold comes to rest on his lower lip. Water surrounds his tonsils and slips down his throat. A few stray rivulets escape down the side of his neck, then disappear into the napkin that you have pressed upon the skin.

By the time he’s downed the whole glass, he can feel his wits beginning to return—with them, the rest of his senses. His eyes crack open again.

“Hot,” he whispers. “It’s hot.”

You move your hands to his shoulders. Moments later, his jacket is a leather mass over the back of the couch, and he feels his dizziness subside, his oxygen return. 

“Better?”

With the music so far away, he hears the concern in your tone with crystalline clarity. He leans over to press his lips to the underside of your jaw, conveying a silent message: better, now.

He didn’t have plans to spend the night backstage, but the premise seems riveting where he comes to lie. His head nestled in the plush of your lap, the rest of him stretched across the sofa, your hand carding through his hair with the soporific lull of a mellow tide.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles suddenly, and you look down at him, confused.

“For?”

“Getting so drunk.”

If your hand is the tide, your laugh is the sand, warm and ubiquitous and all-consuming. “You had a good time, yeah?”

A good time. What an understatement for the maelstrom of feeling still raging on within him, the happiness and disbelief and pride and gratitude to himself, to you. To us.

“The best,” he answers.

“That’s all that matters, then,” you hum, your thumb dusting over his hairline. “You deserve to celebrate.”

He’s still too drunk to really think, but he doesn’t have to think when it comes to you—just knows in the very wellsprings of his soul all the love you’ve woven into the thing you’re about to say, by the infinitesimal softening of your eyes alone.

“You deserve everything, baby.”

He lifts your wrist to his lips, presses a kiss to your pulse. Above him, your features blur, then come back into focus. His answer is so soft that he almost can’t hear it over the warble of his heartbeat and the descent of his tears.

“I’ve got it right here.”

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp・@automaticpersonabatpaper・@aceofvernons・@linos-kitten・@newhope8・@weedforthoughtz

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

#hyunjin x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #hyunjin imagines #skz x reader #stray kids scenarios #k-labels #skz imagines #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #hyunjin fluff #skz scenarios #hyunjin scenarios #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin x you #stray kids x you #*writing #*drabble #*d: hyunjin

[gurugirl]

The Warning | bfd!harry

best friend's dad!harry x reader | forbidden relationship

Summary: You and Harry are trying to heal after coming clean to everyone and Mrs. Styles comes to you with a warning.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warning: 18+ only, smut, angst, mentions of cheating and divorce, age gap, an uncomfortable confrontation

Best Friend's Dad!Harry Masterlist

You missed the occasional texts from Fae. Goofy memes or links to TikTok videos she knew you’d like. Recipes for you two to try. Screenshots from conversations with guys on Tinder.

There was nothing but silence from her for weeks at that point. And being blocked by her on every social media site you two were both on was glaring. It hurt. But what could you do? You’d categorically fucked up. There was no coming back from what you’d done to her family.

Most of your mutual friends were on Fae’s side and had also blocked you. Which you deserved and expected to be honest.

Harry slowly moved his things in. It took a couple of weeks. Every time he went home he tried to go at a time he thought his wife, well, he was calling her his ex now, wasn’t going to be there.

But, that afternoon, when he came home after you’d just had the worst shift you’d ever had in your life he was clearly upset. On edge.

And even though you’d had a terrible day you wanted to make sure he was okay, “Hey, are you all right?” You hugged one of his arms to your body after he sat a box full of his things down.

He smiled at you and brushed his fingers up the back of your neck, “She was there. It was awful. She’s just so full of rage toward me. And I get it, but it took a lot out of me. Better now, though,” he dropped his face to yours to kiss your mouth.

His kisses and his touches always made you feel better too. It was like everything outside of your little apartment was crashing down around you both, but as long as you stayed inside together you’d be okay.

He told you how his day at work was and then you both sat down on the couch and cuddled together, “How was your day at work, baby? I haven’t asked how your day was yet.”

You placed your chin on the top part of his arm as you looked up at him, “Horrible. Caressa is really mean. I think she’s trying to make me quit.”

Harry’s brows pulled together as he wrapped his arms around you, “Really? What has she been doing?”

“Well, last night she put me at the back. I had too many tables and no one to help because the bussers and floaters don’t go into the back when the restaurant is busy. They usually have two people waiting at the back to cover things but I was by myself so it was really stressful and the people I served were getting impatient with me so my tips were awful. And today I only had 2 tables my entire shift so I barely made any tips at all. I asked her if she could give me at least one more when a group came in but she just stared at me and laughed like I was crazy for asking,” You frowned. “Oh, and she updated the schedule without telling me. She’s got me off for five days in a row where I was supposed to be working all those days.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this last night?” He rubbed his hand up and down your back.

“I just didn’t feel like rehashing it last night. Didn’t want to think about work at all.”

Harry pulled you into his body until you were sitting in his lap with your legs on one side. You rested your head on his chest and closed your eyes. Everything was better when you were with Harry.

“Quit your job. You don’t deserve to be treated like that. And if she’s trying to sabotage you then it’s not going to be worth it to fight for it when you’re not making tips anyway.”

You sighed. It already looked like that’s where it was heading. Caressa had been cold to you since she learned it was in fact Harry that she’d seen that day. Of course, she sided with her friend and started treating you like the tramp you were.

You and Harry made dinner together and then cleaned up the kitchen after eating, “Have you heard anything from Fae?” You asked.

Harry shook his head, “Not yet.”

You frowned, “I hope she comes around.”

“I think she will. Eventually.”

You hoped he was right.

When you’d both finally climbed into bed together you snuggled into Harry like you always did. And even with the stress of everything going on outside you two always found a way to unwind together and being intimate (which usually included sex) seemed to help you both calm down and sleep well through the night.

Harry’s hand dragged up and down your back, as you nosed at his shoulder with your thigh hitched over his hip, “I love you, baby. Can I make you feel better?”

You smiled in the dark, “I think we both need to feel better.”

Harry’s chuckle vibrated from his chest as he dropped his hand to your bottom and pushed at the fabric of your panties until they were down around your thighs.

He kissed you gently and ran his hand over your breasts and then downward to your labia.

You pushed at Harry’s underwear and slid your hand under the band and smoothed your palm over his cock.

With mouths connected you both gently got one another worked up. Harry’s fingers soon became messy with your slick arousal, and Harry’s cock hardened with the stimulation from your hand rubbing over his shaft.

“You want to be fucked, little girl,” Harry teased as he spoke against your lips.

“Yes, I do, Mr. Styles. Please.”

Harry groaned. He enjoyed it when you called him Mr. Styles or Sir. Lately, it had just been Harry as things seemed so serious with everything going on.

“Mmm… love that,” he smiled into the kiss as he pushed you down to your back and quickly rid himself of his underwear as you kicked yours the rest of the way down your legs.

He ran his tip through your pussy lips and inhaled deeply as he pushed into you. You felt yourself stretch around him and moaned in relief.

“It’s so good with you, sir. I need you,” you cooed.

Harry’s languid strokes long and deep always had you weak. You felt his fingers wrap around the back of your neck as he brought his mouth against yours with a whimper.

It might have been the quietest sex you’d ever had together. Harry kept his unhurried pace, deep and searing while he kissed you. Your body was on fire. You’d come soon.

But then his next words against your lips changed the mood and had your head spinning and your heart pounding, “Wanna be my wife? Have my babies, Y/n? Want to show everyone you’re mine?”

His harsh rut into you had you inhaling a sharp breath as your eyes popped open and you arched your back into him., “Yes, Harry…”

“Yeah? Wanna be my Mrs. Styles? Have your pussy fucked and filled every day?”

“God… fuck yes, Harry…” you groaned loudly and somehow you felt yourself grow wetter at his words.

“M’gonna give you a big ring and keep you properly fucked, baby. Okay? Show everyone this is real.”

His words were thick and deep and with his lips against yours, you could almost taste them. It made your mouth water. That you’d be his wife and get his cock every night. Prove everyone wrong. Give him a few babies. It was just a fantasy at that point but it sounded exactly like what you wanted.

“Oh my god…” you gasped. Harry was fucking into you harder and your bed began to rock and your quiet sex turned wet and loud. He still had his hand at the back of your neck, almost cradling your head as he gently squeezed and kissed you, his cock spreading you apart as he thrust deeply hips pasted to yours. “This is real. You and me,” you moaned.

You felt Harry begin to quiver over your body as he gasped, “Want all of you, baby. Want every inch of you to be mine.”

You nodded as the tip of your orgasm started to wind its way through your system, “Every inch of me is yours. From the first time you fucked me, Harry.”

He lifted himself slightly and pulled himself out to his tip before driving back into you, repeatedly fucking himself into you in punishing strokes.

You grunted at each plunge and clung to his love handles as you unraveled loudly.

“There you go,” he groaned, “Sweetest girl. Gonna give this to you every day, baby,” he began to thrust erratically, his hips swaying and grinding into you.

Your ears rang as your orgasm wiped you out. You heard Harry loudly moan in time with his thrusts just as began to come inside of you. You felt the sharp punches of his cock against your cervix as he unloaded himself within your pulsing walls. Just like you loved. The final moment of your orgasm with his long dick reaching into your cervix making you ache and swell as he throbbed and pumped into you.

You’d happily be his wife and give him babies and rub it in everyone’s face with how wrong they all were about you and Harry. This man was the love of your life.

.           .           .

“I can’t believe you’re hooking up with Fae’s dad,” Paloma whispered to you as you sat at the little table in your favorite café. A café you and Fae often met up at.

“Well, we’re not just hooking up. But yeah. I feel really bad about everything but...” you trailed off as you shrugged and took a bite of your pastry.

She nodded at you excitedly. Paloma was a mutual friend of yours and Fae’s. She was always closer to you, though. But when she found out about your affair (thanks to Fae) she called you to get the tea directly from the source.

“I always thought her dad was so hot. It’s crazy that this is real. That he left his wife for you? You know that’s not typical, right? Usually, affairs don’t wind up with the man leaving his wife for his side piece.”

 You cringed. You hated that was the perception. But you let it slide. You figured she wouldn’t exactly understand everything but it felt good to talk to someone about it who wasn’t your mother.

“I know. That’s why when we started everything it was just going to be like… not serious you know. We’d end things before it got to be too much. Before anyone found out or got hurt. But we both fell in love. I don’t know how we could have stopped it.”

“Fae despises you and her dad. When she called me I was confused because she never reaches out to me but then I realized she wanted to make sure as many people knew as possible,” Paloma laughed, “I mean… I was shocked but I’m still your friend. I can’t judge you for what you’ve done.”

“So you don’t think I’m a bad person?”

She chuckled, “Well, I don’t agree with what you did but I could never think you’re a bad person. You can’t help who you fall in love with.”

You drank your hot tea and tried to enjoy yourself with your friend but the longer you and Paloma chatted, the more you missed Fae. No one could replace Fae. She was your other half in so many ways.

“Can I ask you a really personal question? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want.”

You shrugged, “Okay. Sure.” You had an idea of what she was going to ask based on the fact that you’d gotten onto the topic of birth control.

“Is he good? Now that I’m thinking about him like that I can imagine he is.”

You breathed out laughed through your nose and smiled as you looked down into your tea, “He’s good. Yes.” You weren’t sure how deep into it you wanted to get but you’d entertain her for a bit.

“And I bet he’s got a big… dick.” She whispered the word dick quietly.

That’s where you drew the line. You sipped your warm tea and turned your gaze to the corner of the room where someone was just taking their seat.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” she spoke, drawing your attention back to her.

“It’s okay. I’m not sure I want to talk about that anymore, though. Tell me what you’ve been up to.”

It turned out that Paloma didn’t have much to say about herself. She gave you the tiniest bit of information, where she was working, that she’d dated someone a couple of months back and that it didn’t work out, and how she was planning a vacation to Cancun. But that’s it.

It felt strange to divulge such personal things to someone who gave you so little in return. And you should have known that’s what was going to happen. She wanted the dirty details about you and Harry. She wasn’t there to be a friend. Not really. She wasn’t rude but you saw that her motivation was to sate her curiosity.

Maybe you were better off just confiding in your mother. Though, she never asked you things about how sex was with Harry. She always only wanted you to be happy and doing your best.

And it would have been fun to discuss in detail how good you were getting it with Harry. And if Fae weren’t his daughter you’d do that with her. Tell her all about how insane his body is, how strong he is, how big his cock is, and how he eats you out almost every day. You’d totally brag about him with her if things were different. But instead, you were stuck with Paloma who you didn’t want to give too many details to. And besides, you and Harry were still healing. To talk about how he was in bed didn’t seem right. Especially when you didn’t know who she was going to tell.

You stopped at the grocery store on your way home to get some things you needed and you picked up one of those cheap grocery store flower bouquets. Harry had stopped having them sent when shit hit the fan and he moved in. You didn’t know if it was because they were so expensive or just because he hadn’t thought about it what with everything going on, but you figured a small bouquet might feel nice to have in the apartment.

But when you pulled into your building’s parking lot you saw, what looked like Mrs. Styles’ car parked at the front. Of course, perhaps it was someone else’s, you were a bit paranoid lately. You always had your eyes roaming around just in case you accidentally ran into her or Fae.

With one arm occupied by your grocery bag and your other hand holding the small bouquet, you slowly walked up the steps toward your door and thought, maybe it wasn’t Mrs. Styles. Perhaps it was actually just someone with a car like hers. Plus how silly for her to confront you. What good would that do anyone?

“Y/n. I’ve been waiting for you.”

You heard her voice before you saw her and then felt her pull your bag from your arm, “Let me help you. Looks like you’ve got your hands full.”

You felt your vision blur and shade in with red as your heart pummeled in your chest, “Oh. Thank you, Mrs. Styles.” It was difficult to hide the shock you felt. You were sure she saw it.

You put your key into your door to unlock it and did some quick math in your mind for when Harry would be coming home. You didn’t want to be with Mrs. Styles alone. In your apartment.

“Cute. Kind of small,” she commented as she walked into your home behind you. She’d never visited before. “I’ll set this in the kitchen here, then?” She pointed to what was very obviously your kitchen.

“Yes. Sure. Thank you.”

She sat the bag on the countertop and you laid the bouquet on your little round kitchen table. You didn’t know what she wanted. What her intentions were. You weren’t sure you wanted to know.

She leaned her hip to the counter and crossed her arms over her chest as she looked at you, taking in your outfit. You felt like you should have dressed nicer. Maybe you would have put more thought into your outfit if you knew you’d be seeing Mrs. Styles. You were wearing jeans with holes in the knees and a hoodie.

You kept thinking of things to say to fill in the very uncomfortable silence. One was that Harry would be home soon, but that felt wrong to say to the woman who was still married to him. Another was to ask her how she’d been doing. Also, not a good question to ask.

“Uh, would you like some water?” You walked toward the cupboard to pull out a couple of glasses. Even if she didn’t want one you needed it.

“No, thank you.”

You nodded to yourself as you poured a glass with water and took a gulp to soothe your dry throat.

“Would you like to sit?” You carried your glass to the kitchen table and gestured at it as you looked back toward her.

Her eyes pierced through you coolly, “No, thank you.”

You leaned your bottom into the table and looked down at your linoleum floor. You hated this. You had no idea how to do this with her. Whatever this was.

“Did you,” you looked up at her eyes, “Want to talk? Or…?”

“I don’t know that you and I have much to discuss that won’t end with hurt feelings. I just came here to see you again and say my peace. It was hard for me to remember what you looked like in my mind. I always imagine you as a high school girl even though I know you’re an adult and I’ve seen you as an adult. Kind of like how I see Fae still. My little girl,” she smiled. “And so with you, you were still a high school girl in my mind’s eye. Quiet. Polite. Fae’s closest and dearest friend. A warm and bright girl that I loved like my own daughter,” her words were razor blades.

“But I couldn’t imagine what you looked like anymore now that you’ve done something so unlike the girl I used to know. I needed to see you for what you are now. The person who’s sleeping with my husband. Who threw away a relationship with my daughter, who is the most beautiful and loving young woman anyone could ever know. And now I see it. I never saw it before but it was always there wasn’t it?”

You shook your head, “I never wanted to hurt–“

“No one ever does, Y/n. No one with any amount of good in their heart ever wants to hurt anyone much less themselves. But you’ve done it haven’t you? You’ve hurt Fae. You’ve hurt me. You’ve hurt Harry. And worst of all is that you’ve hurt yourself.”

She wasn’t wrong about anything she said. You had caused a lot of pain. You hurt people that meant a lot to you. Mrs. Styles, at one time, had meant a lot to you. But now it felt like she was a stranger in your apartment. Someone you didn’t want there.

“I get it, now, though. Looking at you. I was so confused at first. I thought why would Harry even look at you in that way? So I just came here to see if I could make sense of that and you as you are now. And… yeah I see it. You’re lovely. Definitely his type. And you’re sweet too. God that makes it so hard to hate you. I really wanted to hate you too but instead, I just hate Harry now. Because this is really his fault in the end. I mean, don’t get me wrong,” she laughed incredulously, “I don’t like you one bit anymore. But I can’t hate you.”

You couldn’t keep eye contact with her. It felt like you were being incinerated.

“Harry’s had a lot of women after him in the past. Even after we were married women would flirt and try to get close to me just so they could get closer to him. It was funny because I noticed all of that. I was aware of what they were doing. Even had to cut a good friend out after she drunkenly admitted she wanted to sleep with him. He’s such an attractive man. Believe me, I know. I always knew other women found him sexy. But with you? Never had a clue. Wouldn’t have ever imagined it.”

You felt numb. You had no idea how to respond or even if you should.

“Anyway,” she pushed herself away from the counter and clapped her hands together with a faux smile, “That’s all I wanted to say. I hope you’re prepared for him to break your heart. Because this won’t last, Y/n. I don’t want him anymore but I’m just giving you a warning. If he can throw away a 24-year marriage for a 24-year-old girl whom he has nothing in common with, then just expect him to do something that catches you off guard.”

She walked past you to your front door and you listened as she opened and closed it behind her. You couldn’t move from your spot. You tried to breathe to calm yourself and not overthink the words she said.

You knew that she was angry and some of what she said was an attempt to get under your skin. To make you feel bad. Which you already did feel bad, of course. But now it felt suffocating. Felt like there were cracks starting to gape and widen between you and Harry but you needed to not allow that, as hard as it was. Hard not to take heed of her advice and note how other women wanted him and how he strayed from his wife whom he was married to for 24 years.

When Harry finally came home you didn’t know how long you’d been standing there at your kitchen table. You hadn’t moved a muscle. Your groceries hadn’t been put away. The flowers were still lying on your table. You were caught in your mind and battling not to allow your doubts about Harry to overcome you. Because you knew he loved you, you reminded yourself.

“Baby,” He wrapped his arms around your front as he stood behind you and kissed your temple, “Got groceries and flowers?”

You nodded shallowly.

He kissed you again and then you felt his face next to yours, could see from your peripheral that he was looking at you. He pulled his arms away and stepped to face you, pulling your hands into his, “Honey, what’s wrong?”

You slowly brought your gaze to his and immediately you felt better. His eyes. His concern. His warmth. And you could see the way he loved you. He loved you. You stepped toward him and put your arms around his middle and smushed your ear into his chest as you finally let your tears pour.

Harry drew his arms tight around you, “Baby, what happened? Tell me what’s wrong?”

You choked out a sob and squeezed him even more.

Harry sat down in a chair, and kept you with him, pulling you into his lap as he cupped your face and tried to look at you, “Sweetheart, you’re worrying me. Did something happen?”

You nodded and pushed your face back into his chest. You wished you could stop your tears and just tell him but you could barely sputter a word out.

He rubbed your back and gently rocked you as you cried in his arms and wetted his nice button-shirt with your tears.

When you felt better and felt like you could speak, your first words came out sounding so tiny and pathetic, “I’m sorry.”

“Shh, shh, shhh…” he softly hushed you, “Don’t be sorry, baby. Can you tell me what happened?”

You sniffed and looked up at him, “She… your wife. She came here.”

Harry’s face dropped, “What happened? What did she say?”

“She just wanted to see me and tell me what she thought about everything. I couldn’t even speak I was so nervous. She wasn’t here long.”

He nodded and used his thumbs to wipe your tears, “I will have a talk with her. She should not have come here. She has no business to do such a thing.”

You leaned into his touch as he wiped your tears.

“What did she say to make you so upset? Talk to me.”

“Just that you’ll hurt me eventually and you and I have nothing in common. She wasn’t mean, though. Everything she said was true about me. How I hurt everyone. And she said that other women want you too and…” you swallowed. You could hardly put your thoughts together coherently.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Y/n. And you know it’s not true that we have nothing in common. You and I get along perfectly. She’s just upset. You know that right?”

You nodded.

“And I don’t care how many women find me attractive, or even how many men find you attractive. None of that matters. You know that.”

“I know. She was just upset. It just scared me that I had to confront her alone. And I hate how she looks at me now. I’m the woman who took her husband.”

When your tears had finally dried, Harry helped you put the groceries away and put the flowers in a pretty vase to display.

“I need to have flowers delivered again. These are pretty but I like the ones Florero delivers.”

You wrapped your arms around Harry’s middle and looked up at him, “You’re so sweet but you don’t have to. I know those were expensive. I just thought any flowers would look nice so I picked them up on a whim.”

“You deserve flowers from Florero, baby,” he kissed your forehead. “I just forgot about it since everything that happened and moving here with you. But you still deserve nice things.”

You really didn’t feel like you needed nice things. Harry had never done all that much in the way of spending money on you. It was flowers, some jewelry, food, a toy. Things like that. But you were happy to just have him. You were happy that he was yours. And as awful as it was to feel the way you did, you were glad he chose you because you were always going to choose him.

Harry smushed you against his chest, “You know how much I love you, Y/n. I would choose you over and over again. No matter how hard it gets. Never let anyone’s words convince you otherwise.”

And there wasn’t a single part of you that didn’t believe him.

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#harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #bfd!harry #best friend's dad!harry #harry styles #firstpost #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles fiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles x yn #harry styles x y/n #dad!harry #dadrry #dilf!harry #best friend's dad #harry styles writing #harry edward styles #harry #harry smut #harry styles x you

[undreaming-fanfiction]

For A Handful of Bandaids

This is my entry for SpicySixWinterFanworksChallenge organized by the lovely @thefreakandthehair.

“Hey Steve, do you know where we’ve got some bandaids?”

In hindsight, Eddie should have known that a simple question like that would never prompt a simple response from his boyfriend. Steve was many things - brave, loyal, a great cook, wonderful in bed, but most of all - he tool Eddie’s well-being very seriously. He was a raging bull whose red flag was anything related to health, injury, sickness or danger, no matter how small.

Well. Not really raging. More like anxious, caring and always ready to whip out half of a pharmacy.

So of course, the answer wasn’t “they’re in the second drawer,” nope.

Instead, Steve stood up, grabbed Eddie by his shoulders and started checking him for injuries. “Eddie, are you hurt? Did someone in town attack you again? Shit, I thought things’ve calmed down, did you recognize them?”

It would have been hilarious if Eddie hadn’t hated making Steve worried.

He reached for Steve’s hands, still on his shoulders, and put on his most persuasive voice. “Steve, baby, I swear I’m fine! No attacks, no black eyes, no broken bones. I’m completely fine!” He even grabbed his collar and moved it to the side so Steve could check. “See? No strangulation marks. Uh...no new strangulation marks, post-bat.”

Steve seemed to be calming down, good. Fantastic. “So...” he said slowly, “...you don’t need them for yourself? Did one one of the kids get hurt? Wayne?”

Eddie really wanted to punch himself in the face now. Why hadn’t he spent those five extra minutes looking for the bandaids himself?!

“No. Look, Steve. I need them for myself, but for something small. Something very very VERY tiny. I just made a not-so-ideal decision and now I want to treat the consequences.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed and his stare traveled directly into Eddie’s soul. “Eddie. What. Did. You. Do?”

“...I think it would be easier to show you.”

---

In another hindsight, it would have been easier to tell Steve. If Eddie thought seeing the crime scene would calm his boyfriend down, he was dead wrong.

Steve’s eyes traveled over the destruction. Eddie’s books, neatly arranged on bookshelves that morning, were now lying everywhere. The books from the bookcase didn’t fare any better - except the bookcase was now lying on them, over their bed. Speaking of the bed, the plant that they saved from a local dumpster and nurtured back to health? That plant was now depotted over Eddie’s pillow.

He sucked in a breath through his front teeth. “Did someone break in?”

Eddie shook his head so fast his hair became a tangled mess. “No. Nono. Steve. No one invaded our wonderful home. No one damaged our property. I mean, someone did, but it was...very much deserved.”

“Eddie. Explain. Now.”

“Oh yeah. Sure. Will do. Um...how long a version do you want?”

“Concise.”

“Right. In short - Ozzy did this.” Noticing Steve’s disbelieving stare, Eddie quickly added: “But I deserved it. Totally.”

Steve sat down onto the single clean and empty spot on their bed. “Are you telling me that our cat knocked over a full bookcase?”

Eddie had the decency to look guilty. “Oh no, that was me.”

“I take back the “concise” request. Tell me everything. Step by step.”

“Right.” Eddie’s eyes darted between each aspect of the crime scene, trying to put together a reasonable explanation. “So. I was sitting on the bed with Ozzy. He didn’t like something I did and decided to run away, but I was...sort of connected to him.”

“Sort of connected...?”

Eddie waved his hand. “I’ll explain. But as he was escaping, I had to go after him, because you know...connected. And he really didn’t like that. So he jumped up that bookcase and we were still-”

“-connected?” Steve didn’t seem to understand or believe any of it, but he was certainly entertained.

“Yep. So I tried to climb the bookcase and get him down.”

Steve’s palm connected with his forehead with a resounding slap. “Eddie. Do you know how physics work?”

Snorting, Eddie shook his head. “Of course I don’t, Steve. Failed high school twice, remember? But I also know your grades and because of that I dare to say - neither do you. Not that physics would have gotten Ozzy down.”

“That part is true.” Steve was grinning back at him, imagining the chaos. “So, you climbed the bookcase and it fell on you. What next?”

Eddie pointed at the sad remains of Steve’s plant. “I knew how much you love that plant, so I decided to save it. Since it was on that bookshelf. I heroically leapt from the bookcase and towards the plant, but I have miscalculated my daring rescue.”

Steve’s eyebrows did that adorable confused scrunch. “You what?”

“I jumped too fast and it fell on my head.”

“Oh.”

Eddie nodded, touching a sore spot on his nape. “Yeah. And my head gave it that extra bounce to land on the pillow. Wrong side up, I’m afraid.”

Steve reached out to the plant and picked it up, examining its leaves. “I think she’ll live. She’s a strong girl. Continue.”

“Not much more to tell,” Eddie shrugged. “Ozzy used the commotion to disconnect himself from me and darted outside. I got soil out of my hair and went to ask you for bandaids.

Steve was stroking the plant’s leaves, checking for damage. “The one thing I don’t understand is this. How didn’t I hear it happening?”

“Oh, it was much faster than it sounds. And I believe you were washing the dishes.”

“That explains it,” Steve nodded and set the plant into its miraculously unharmed flower pot. “One more question then. How were you connected?”

Eddie started chewing on his hair and looking at the ground instead of Steve. “You know...it’s almost Christmas, right?” he asked in a quiet voice. “And you love Christmas. Everyone knows you love Christmas, so...”

“Eddie. How were you connected?” he repeated slowly, carefully.

He smiled sheepishly, pulling something colorful from his pocket. “Do you know how they say that fate connects you with a red string? Something like that. The rest shall be revealed when we find Ozzy. I think he’s hiding under the sink again.”

Steve stood up and sighed the deepest sigh Eddie had heard in ages. “I have no clue where this is going,”

---

Ozzy was, as Eddie had predicted, hiding under the sink. He was hiding really well, 10/10 would not find the cat, except for the red wool that led from the corridor directly to the bathroom. And when they finally got the unhappy cat out with promises of treats and even more treats, Steve finally saw it and laughed.

“Really, this is what you did?” he asked and reached out to free Ozzy.

Despite his prompt escape, Ozzy still bore wounds from his brave fight against Eddie. Except those weren’t wounds, it was a half-unraveled red Christmas sweater. Steve thought he recognized Claudia Henderson’s work. No matter who knitted it, Ozzy obviously hated the idea.

Eddie was, just like the sweater, bright red. “See, it was nearly finished and I promised to try it on him, just to see if it fits. And when he decided he didn’t like it, which was pretty much immediately, I think one of the loose threads got caught on my rings. So...yeah.”

 Steve pulled him into a kiss and scratched Ozzy’s back, now free from the wooly prison.

“You really thought you could get that sweater on our cat? You’re adorable. I’ll get those bandaids.”

#SpicySixWinterFanworksChallenge #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fanfiction

[fillinforlater]

Loathing Love: Lavish Lies (Part 4)

Male Reader x Kwon Eunbi + Kang Hyewon x Jo Yuri

Length: 9060 words

Tags: emotional drama, smut, cheating, alcohol, rage, anger issues, bisexuality, girl x girl relationship, girl x girl action, threesome, literal breeding, mating press, face sitting, squirting, clit play, dirty talk, the dumbest, most improbable sex ever, this is NOT real life, very dark ending

TW: includes topics like cheating, alcohol, sex and death

Inspiration: "Look at Me" by XXXTENTACION, Hyewon x Yuri best ship, gay power couple; this had to be released in Pride Mont (glad I could make it lol), also @capslocked ; @iznsfw, I'm sorry.

(A/N: THE FINALE of my L4 Series. It's finally here. The promise is fulfilled. I hope you get the ending and don't hate me. It's all fiction.)

“Look at me, fuck on me / Look at me, fuck on me / Look at me, fuck on me.”

Volume decreased by eighty percent. You don’t need someone screaming in your ears right now. It only makes you want to scream back. The poor guy has been dead for almost five years now, he doesn’t really deserve it. If you’re honest to yourself, he feels way too on point. Better turn the radio off entirely.

His voice still resonates in your mind, as you get out of the car. Combined with Hyewon’s and Yuri’s moans, they form an inglorious, deadly symphony to fuel your hatred. Visuals of you screaming, scratching, beating fragile, pale skin pop up in your mind. This wave of emotions, it’s crashing in on you like a tsunami. Sadly, it doesn’t bury you. It only makes you angrier.

Push open the door and Eunbi gasps. She kneels on the living room floor, right next to the carpet. Her clothes are in tatters, her knees covered in bruises, but worst of all, her face is ruined with scratches, blood and runny mascara. It looks like someone already did the things you imagined in your head: beat her up and left her whimpering on the floor. The punishment for someone who cheats and lies.

Grab Eunbi’s lifeless arm and pull it up. Your fiance begins to cry, she begs not with words but with her eyes. The way she shakes her head is in honest fear. The potential strikes scare her, how your palm will meet her face over and over again in a loveless, hurt beating.

But you sigh.

"I can't," you squeeze out, voice cracking with every word. "I hate seeing you like this. You deserve to be thrown out and beg for money on the street. But I can't, I—"

You pull Eunbi into a hug. Her small frame melts into your arms, her feet unable to support her. She is like a wet sack, surprisingly heavy. You're barely able to drag her to the couch and watch her whimper and cry, face hidden behind her elbow.

"I still love you, Eunbi.

"Let's try again."

"Y-yes," she sobs and tightly grabs your shirt.

"Let's marry, Eunbi."

"Y-yes, th-thank you."

#

The proposal might have been a mess, but the marriage was not. Everything was meticulously planned, and even the tiniest details went perfectly. No one knew of Eunbi's affair, and you kept it this way. 

Even after your marriage, your luck did not run out. Everything was working out. Two promotions in a year, a new, bigger house, two cars, a part time job for Eunbi that she really enjoys. Talking about Eunbi, she became attentive, caring, adoring, loving to the point where your wound began to heal.

Eight months into your marriage, you became an actor.

No, not the type that moves to Hollywood, swims in money and earns fame with every new movie. The type who has to act all day every day. You have to pretend that it's all fine, smile at everyone, always say the right things—

Acting is lying. You lie to them, because you cannot live with her lying to you.

Eunbi does not know about the abundance of security cameras you installed around and inside the house. They are tiny, but very modern and always connected to your phone for constant surveillance of your expensive home.

Not a single criminal has tried to enter your home—but multiple other 'criminals' entered something else.

At first, it was one guy. Tall, handsome, expensive suit. Eunbi greeted him with a smile. You watched the footage quite confused. The two of them sat down in the living room and talked for a bit. It looked like he tried to sell her something, but it also looked fake, like they were—

Role playing.

A minute later, Eunbi's arms and feet were wrapped around him as he drilled his cock deep inside her cunt. There was no sound, but you could see her moan and scream as he went faster.

Three weeks later, another guy. He seemed to not like role playing. Eunbi opened the door and his tongue was in her mouth immediately. They fucked all over the kitchen, on every damn counter. At least this guy was somewhat attractive.

Things got horrible after this. Guy after guy walked into your home and fucked your wife. Hole after hole, day after day. Whenever you were at work and she wasn't, a cock was inside her. One time, someone seemed to comment on her hair and the next day she went to dye it blonde. 

That was also the day you decided to not touch her anymore. You stay at work longer, until late at night. Work frees your mind a little, and soon they will promote you to the second highest position. 500k after taxes, seemingly infinite money, yet you still weep and down whiskey each night watching guys go to town on her.

Today, two guys arrived together. They spit roasted her on the bed, which was already covered in her juices and sweat from another guy an hour before. 

The video flashes before your dead eyes. You drop another piece of ice into the glass, watch the auburn whiskey sway and cool. Down it goes as Eunbi gets ready to take a cock up her loose asshole. For the first time, you look at the new guy who groans as Eunbi takes his cock.

His smug grin. It's the same motherfucker, the one you caught with Eunbi a bit over a year ago. 

For the first time, you stop your mindless staring at the screen. You pause the security footage as rage builds up at this stupid expression on this stupid face. Without hesitation, you reach for the glass and repeatedly smash it into the screen. It breaks in violent sparks and the room goes fully dark. 

You tear the screen off the wall, the same way you tear out the self-pity in your sorrow-filled heart. A violent kick sends the monitor into the computer and the thousand dollar set-up is reduced to broken scrap metals and torn wires.

The entire office is suddenly so dark and silent. Not that you were watching with sound, but the vivid pictures produced enough sounds in your head. It's all gone now, together with the dirty light displaying dirty pleasure. 

Don't lie to yourself; this was stupid. But as much as it was stupid, it was also necessary and it felt so right. Even though your favorite whiskey glass fell victim to your rampage, you don't regret it. You need more of this.

Throughout the entire night, you continue to mess up your workplace. You stuff bins and trash cans with everything in your office: Semi-important documents, plants, cables, liquor, chairs and especially all the unnecessary, lavish accessoires you gathered here for some reason. At dawn, the only thing that remains is a table, a chair, a laptop with a charger and a bottle of water. A frugal set-up, but more than enough for your job.

At 6:30 am, you arrive at home and jump right into bed, next to your snoring wife. With a quick glance you check her hand; the ruby embellished gold ring sparkles at her finger. A real, absurdly expensive piece of jewelry on a fake piece of shit, you think but smile nonetheless. There is some irony about it that you can't pin down yet, but you'll look for it a bit more.

#

A knock at your door. 

"Come on in," you say without looking up from your screen. It's probably the intern again, asking for help or another task. To your surprise, it's someone far more important.

"Still feels weird, when you remember what this room used to look like." A man, two decades older than you and a decade more work experience in this company carefully scoots into your office and wanders around it. "It's surprisingly vast."

You close your laptop when the man does not watch. It's out of respect, but for some reason, you do not fear him anymore. His name is Sakimoto, member of the board of directors and chairman of the staff council. Usually, there is only one reason for him to come into your office himself—and it's not a good one.

"How can I help you, Mr. Sakimoto?" you say with an insincere smile.

"Tell me," he responds, eyes wide in either insanity or genuine interest, hard to tell with someone like him. "Why did you throw it all away? It looks like a cell."

"It—to be honest, I—

"Well that's the point. None of the stuff is helpful in any way, even worse, it's distracting, unnecessary bullshit that keeps me from focusing. I don't need it, I don't want it anymore."

Sakimoto nods at your words, his expression never changing, not even at the use of your obscene slip. Maybe being a psychopath is a job requirement for Sakimoto's position. You can't bear to look at his slight smile and wide orbs any longer.

"Intriguing," he finally says and turns towards your door again. "You'll be at the board meeting tonight, 8pm flat."

"Yes, Sir," you calmly say, something grinding on your nerves as Sakimoto leaves without saying goodbye or closing the door. That's it, career over.

#

They’re gonna fire me, fuck.

This thought knocks on your mind the entire day, only getting stronger with every step you take towards the meeting room. Someone must have noticed your indefensible, erratic behavior, but how? Everyone was gone that night like they all are every night. You made sure of it by checking the nearby offices of your subordinates and co-workers. You even made sure to stuff all your furniture and electronics down to the bottom of the waste containers.

Maybe the board had a meeting and someone heard something? Fuck, that can’t be it, can it?

Deep breaths, calm breaths. If they know what happened, your fate is decided. You have enough money anyways. Other companies will still take you. You’re gonna be okay, this is just a small hit, a dent in the fast, unstoppable car that is you. If you’re honest, it’s a lot easier when you don’t care about the passenger or who she is fucking.

Bang the door thrice with confidence. The silence behind it becomes even more quiet, until someone urges you to enter in a strict, booming voice.

“You are a bit early,” the CEO says from the far end of the long table, his back to the setting sun visible through large windows behind him. The other board members look at you, some with a perfect poker face as if they are in serious business talks, others seem amused, maybe even a little tipsy, but what surprises you the most are those who look at you in anger and fear as if you were the grim reaper, coming for their souls.

“Better than being too late,” you respond with charme, your calm heart picking up in pace. 

“That is true!” the vice-CEO shouts and most board members fall into a short fit of laughter. They seem so odd, maybe they are making fun of you before forcing you to sign the resignation. You can already see the stack of paper in the CEO’s hand.

“Enough of this nonsense,” the CEO shouts. The laughs evaporate instantly, yet somehow, the positive vibes remain. The vice-CEO is grinning at you, even the CEO himself cracks a smile. He gets up from his chair, the paper firmly in both of his hands, and walks around the table towards you. Your feet seem to grow roots as he stops before you.

“Congratulations, Mr. Kwon,” he says cheerfully and hands you an—

“Official Invitation to the Board of Directors,” you read out loud in utter disbelief. 

“Mr. Kwon, why do you sound so shocked?” someone in the back asks and the CEO nods towards them with a sly grin.

“I did not inform him about our vote last week. Even Mr. Sakimoto only told him to be here today.

“Mr. Kwon, do you accept our invitation? You will be the thirteenth member, as Mr. Muentrich-Schleuser will resign next month. We all think that you are physically and mentally capable, have the pedigree and skill and most importantly, the outstanding drive to push this company forward. The growth in your department has been unmatched the past few months.”

The smooth, freshly printed piece of paper is in your hand. The other members gradually rise from their seats, all looking at you intently. They seemed so much bigger, when you entered the room, but now they are just like you. All you have to do is take the CEO’s stretched out hand, and you’ll be atop a mountain you never even dreamed of reaching. 

“D-do I have any other choice?” you say cooly, only your stutter betrays your facade. A couple of chuckles, the CEO looks at the ceiling and pretends to think.

“Well, you can’t go back to your apartment, as your successor has already been chosen. You could be transferred to Japan and lead the department there. It’d be the same pay as here but—”

He leans closer to whisper.

“—you’d have to pay more taxes there.

“What will it be, Mr. Kwon?”

#

You find yourself on the road again. Somehow, fate has you connected to your car. Whenever something big happened or is about to happen, you find yourself sitting in it, music blasting loud and numbing everything out. Tonight however, you purposefully turn the radio off and drive carefully. 

Let me celebrate somewhere; but where?

You won’t go home to your wife of course. She is more than undeserving to celebrate this moment with you. Most of your other friends and relatives are either asleep already or would ask stupid questions about Eunbi and why she isn’t celebrating alongside you. No, you need someone to not ask you about anything and just parties the night away.

Ah fuck it; strangers will do.

Park your car at the side of the road, don’t care for a ticket, hell, don’t give a fuck if someone decides to steal it. It’s used and you can easily buy a new one tomorrow if you want to. You wander down the street, busy with party-goers, drunk, high or both, some are a lot more focused and carry their drunk, high or both friends home. You loosen your tie, no need to look formally if everyone around you doesn’t either.

Suddenly, a familiar sight, a wooden structure with warm lights and that unmistakable smell. It’s almost nostalgic, magnetic, unavoidable, you just have to walk in there. As you grab the handle of the door and see the long, smooth, wooden counter, it hits you.

Oh my God.

“Oh, wow, haven’t seen you here in forever,” the bartender says when he sees you. His face hasn’t changed, his smile is the same, but you need a few moments to really recognize him again.

He takes a step back and smirks, firm grasp on a bottle of tequila.

“Well, yes, it has,” you respond and walk up to him. “It has easily been a year since my last visit, how the fuck do you remember me?”

“I have this tendency to remember people, especially because you were the last man to ever take her backstage.”

He winks and you throw your head back. Time flies, it really does, yet you find yourself sitting on the exact same stool on a very similar night with the same bartender. Even your wife is still a whore, fucking the same guys, probably right now as well. 

“So I take it that Hyewon is not coming here anymore?” you sigh and point at an expensive bottle of wine. The bartender swiftly uncorks it.

“I did not say that. She is just a lot more, let’s call it, picky. Okay, you know what?”

With an elegant pour he fills you a glass and places the dark ruby liquid on the counter before continuing.

“You can ask her yourself. She’ll be on stage in a couple minutes.”

A waft of wine hits your nostrils, but it’s a lot weaker than the words coming from his mouth. The thought of Hyewon blows you away, stronger than any liquor, no matter how high the amount of alcohol or the years it has matured. Hyewon, the kind stranger, the hot stranger, the stranger to fuck your stress out. Hyewon, the crazy friend, the bisexual friend, the let's-have-a-bar-backstage- threesome-with-this-hot-singer-friend. She was a big reason why you got over Eunbi cheating on you—but it has sadly not led you to the brightest of futures.

Maybe I should have stayed with her.

Take a sip of the wine. It’s delicious, celebratory, a drink for victors who have gained status and wealth beyond imagination, and you are now part of that group. At least you feel like it, even as the bar gets flooded with more and more people from all walks of life. Some look as well-dressed as you are, others clearly struggle to make ends meet in some months, but they're all here for the same thing.

Wait, what is Hyewon going to do on stage? Is she going to sing?

As you still wonder and savor the wine, one of the waitresses moves from light switch to light switch and slowly but surely fills the room in darkness. The crowd goes quiet as tension rises. Everyone is excited for sure, but none of them reach the level of thrill you feel when the spotlight illuminates the stage and a beautifully dressed woman appears behind the curtain.

Resounding cheers, applause, the occasional toast around you, inside you, but all you can do is watch in awe. Hyewon looks angelic, on one hand illegally beautiful, on the other illegally hot. Something about her is distant yet warm, unreachable yet magnetic, strangulating for the heart yet easy for the lunges—she is oxygen, or even better—the breathable air of heaven.

Hyewon.

Confidence in her stance which silences the crowd again, confidence in her hands which raise the mic to her glossy lips, most importantly, confidence in her voice as she starts the song with a powerful low note that almost throws you off the stool. 

It shouldn’t be such a shock. Hyewon’s voice is mesmerizing, you should have noticed it when she spoke to you or at least when she moaned, but only now you see the full beauty of it. It’s befitting of her, and you will enjoy every second of it. She carries this song gracefully, giving it a special touch that will keep the listeners yearning for a studio version, which would be an efficient side hustle for her.

Wait, what if Hyewon becomes a musician, with songs on the radio and the first glimmers of fame? What if she is already quite popular, an underground artist on the rise, from covering songs to writing her own? What if there is a whole story happening in her life that you missed entirely, just because you stuck to your whore-wife and mind-numbing job? This fear of having missed out on something this big and beautiful, maybe even life itself, shakes your heart with a strong aching, until—

Another voice. The first verse, the pre-chorus, the build-up, it all leads to another voice coming in with unbridled power and passion. It cannot be contained in the way it booms through the speakers and puts goosebumps on every single person in this room. You’re included in this list, but when you recognize the voice and see the woman step out on stage, those goosebumps turn to a full-on rush of nostalgic emotions. 

Back then, her singing was the catalyst for an unforgettable night. Unexpectedly wild, a lot of fun, but the stinging arrow of envy made things bitter-sweet for you. Watching the two of them be so close, intimate and loving had you yearning for more than just enraged sex. You wanted this too, and there was a time where Eunbi provided it. But the veil has been lifted. There is no love, just despair.

Yuri.

It’s certainly a touching thing, seeing that Hyewon and Yuri are still close friends, connected through the language of music. Apparently they were always here, right in this inconspicuous bar, pulling the stress out of people with nothing but their voices, which combine at the end of the second verse and rush ahead into the chorus. It’s an invasion of your ears, low and high, soft and powerful, caring and overwhelming. 

This performance is greatness, the best of what humanity has to offer—and you feel like the embodiment of an embittered, wasted life.

#

Yuri hits the final note with such perfection that the first few people have already jumped up from their seats and cheered without holding back. Thunderous applause is an understatement to how hard everyone claps their hands or stomps the ground. They’re shaking the entire bar, which has the bartender holding onto some of the bottles with a worried smile. You on the other hand are glued to your seat in deep regret. Not enough to make you cry, but enough to keep you from giving the two angels what they deserve. 

Take a look at your wine. It has been untouched in your glass for a while now and it’d be a waste to throw it away just because you’re facing the cold, harsh truth again. What even is true at this point? Not the stuff you promise your customers and certainly not your relationship. Fuck it, take a large sip.

“They are awesome,” the bartender gasps. “They should finally do this professionally, this stage is too small for them.”

“Yeah,” you answer with a weak smile. “Imagine an entire stadium full of people being this ecstatic. The world would hear it.”

“Well, I tried my best convincing them,” he says and looks right next to you with a sly grin. “Maybe you have more success than I did.”

Time freezes when you feel the familiar busty body around your own. You did not see Hyewon launching herself at you, don't realize what's happening until she starts talking.

"Oh my God, it has been so long! Wait, is it really you?"

"Hyewon, I, uhm, yeah. I'm me."

"It's so crazy to see you again! How are you, how is life?"

"Well, it's—"

Hyewon squeezes your body tighter. She pouts when you look down at her until you finally get it. Return the embrace and Hyewon squeals in happiness.

"You don't have to say anything," she coos softly. "I'm just happy to see you again."

"Likewise," you respond with a sigh.

You could stand around like this for eternity. Hyewon's deep breaths and her steadily decreasing heart rate start to heal you from within. The pain and suffering caused by Eunbi's constant cheating, it doesn't matter right now. You deserve a break from the mess that is your life—you feel like you can celebrate your promotion for real now.

"Hyewon, I—no, you. You were wonderful on stage. Your singing, it blew me away."

As you gush about her performance, Hyewon blushes and disconnects the hug. You notice that she has this heavenly aura around her, like she is spraying sparks of love and happiness that try to ignite everyone around her. No wonder that she had this excellent stage presence during her duet.

"Thank you so much—

"Oh, babe~ I'm here~"

You jump at Hyewon's sudden call, which is not directed at you of course. Before your eyes can search for the person Hyewon just called babe, they have already arrived. Delicate fingers entwined with Hyewon's, they both go for a quick peck on the lips.

"Yu-Yuri?" 

Your shriek makes the duo—the couple?—look at you with wide eyes, glossy and full of love for life—for each other? There is still too much to process for your brain, it can't handle another input. 

"Hey, is everything alright?" Yuri asks with concern in her voice and a caring hand on your elbow.

"Ye-yeah, ju-just not up to date at all. Are you two like… a thing?"

Hyewon has this bright smile on her face. She wraps an arm around Yuri's hip and the younger girl leans her head on her collarbone. Yuri raises a hand up to your face. There is a simple silver ring on it, and you see her eyes scintillate when she shows you it.

"We married two months ago," Hyewon giggles. "So much has happened since we met last time. I can’t really sum it up."

"Don't feel forced to explain yourself," you respond with an awkward laugh. "We had a short stint a while back, I only saw you falling for each other—

beyond that, our lives have happened far apart. But not going to lie, I'd love to hear your story if you're down for it."

Hyewon and Yuri share a glance and then start to laugh for seemingly no reason. It turns into a full fit that suddenly has you in a tight, three way hug. 

"We'd love to," Yuri says when she catches her breath again. "After all, you somewhat got us together. I told Hye that we should try to invite you to the marriage."

"Nah, it's good. How about I pay for the first round of drinks because of your amazing performance and then for the second round 'cuz I got a big promotion today."

"What if I want a third round though?" Hyewon asks jokingly.

"Babe, you can never handle three rounds," Yuri responds with sass and pulls the two of you to a nearby table.

"Looks like you just qualified yourself to pay for the third round then, Yuri."

#

"Like I said," Yuri babbles, her pitch high as the love story reaches its conclusion. "Hye was so scared to tell her father, but I had already bought the rings and planned the dresses, the cake—her mom was literally involved in everything—so on a Saturday night I poured her a third tequila shot—look how done she is after only two!"

Yuri points at her wife, whose head rests on her shoulder with heavy eyes and a rosy hue on her cheeks. Hyewon is in a drunk-dazed heaven, smiling stupidly, while trying to disagree with sounds that almost sound like words.

"Anyways, she was loose and so I dragged her over, we told him and—it was a stressful minute, I tell you that—after a minute he hugged us wordlessly. We kinda had no idea what it meant but during the wedding he looked happy, at peace basically."

"Okay, wow that is—"

Even your tenth reaction to Hyewon and Yuri's story, from threesome over dating to coming out to marriage, is cut short, this time by Hyewon groaning out a functioning sentence from her lip stick and alcohol covered lips.

"Babe, you, you forgot the part where, when you had to quit your job then."

"Oh, I'd love to hear about that too!" you quickly add, reminiscing about their amazing vocal performance. "Why did you decide to only sing for a living?"

Yuri puts on a sad smile as she strokes Hyewon's hair. Her gaze rests upon her empty glass, her orbs turn glassy for a moment then she shakes her head as if to shrug off what's bothering her.

"That's just about, you know, my former job. When I quit because we wanted to focus on music, some were angry because they thought I abandoned the team for childish dreams while others were… not so supportive of us. Ah, just forget it, it's fine."

"Sorry you had to go through it and sorry for bringing it up," you quickly apologize.

"Jeez, I said it's fine, don—"

"Let me make it up to you with a third round and the promise to meet the two of you here again."

Raise your hand to call the waiter while Yuri searches for something in Hyewon's pocket, but the older keeps nuzzling closer and closer as she dozes off. When the drinks arrive, Yuri slips you a phone.

"Put in your numbern" she whispers. "I bet she'll want to hear more from you too."

"Thank you. I assume you don't want to hear from me then?" you chuckle.

"That's right!" Yuri shouts and lifts her glass on high, so the entire bar can hear her. "I'm only here for the drinks. Cheers!"

#

Even the greatest party needs to come to an end at some point. 3am is when you pay for the drinks and call a cab. You barely find your way up the drive way into your house, which is not that bad, because now you don’t need to go sleep in the same bed as Eunbi and instead have the couch for you alone. It has never been so cozy.

Speaking of Eunbi, her acting is almost great. She apparently was so worried about you last night, and all the other nights the last couple of months. Now she found you on the couch, an obvious hangover by the way you scrunch your forehead. She puts her hand on your shoulder, rubbing it in circles, playing the worried wife like it’s in her script. 

“No, this looks wrong, I swear,” you try to laugh it off but Eunbi is just getting closer. God, you can smell all the other people on her. It’s like she showered in a dozen different men’s perfume and deodorant just to taunt you. Ignore the mocking, you’re above this. 

“Then what is it supposed to look like, babe?” Eunbi asks, her eyes wide and shimmering. “I’m willing to believe you, but you have to tell me why you got so wasted.”

“Well, I…” 

It’s best to mix the lie with some truth to the point where you might believe it yourself.

“I, surprisingly, got a great promotion, and we went out partying for a long ti—”

“Oh my God, babe, that’s awesome!”

Out of nowhere, Eunbi casts aside all her concern and launches herself atop of you. You immediately tense up. Feeling the incredible curves of her body has never felt so wrong, so traumatic. Groan and put a palm to your temple to signal her your distress, but she continues to bounce on your lap. 

“All your heart work paid off, I’m so proud!” she shouts gleefully, her arms tight around your throat in what looks like a loving embrace but feels a lot more like someone strangling you. “I almost thought you were out there getting addicted to whiskey every night.”

And you are addicted to men, Eunbi.

Addicted to sex, to being unloyal, to being creamed by other men.

You are the addict, you heartbreaking bitch.

But the words don’t come out. They run circles in your head while Eunbi’s clothed entrance rubs circles over your not-growing, not-aroused dick. You’re not going to surrender to her fuckable body, instead gently pushing her sides and groaning unduly. 

“Yeah, no, this was a one time thing. I should sober up, my head fucking hurts.”

“Should I get you some water and painkillers?” Eunbi asks and gets off of your lap to jog to the kitchen.

“Yes, please—”

—and then get out of my life.

#

The following months brought some drastic changes. Not only is your work harder, it’s also not optional anymore. You started to put up better numbers because of your overtime work, which was due to Eunbi. Now, you can’t escape it anymore. Working from 6am to 10pm is normal, hell, on some days you wish you could sleep three hours. 

But everytime you look at your new bank account—can’t let Eunbi have all the access—it all seems worth it. The pay is ungodly, you have way too much money. Even after taxes and buying two new cars to not look ‘broke’ next to all the other board members, you still have no clue what to do with all of it. Two or three more years, and you could retire wealthy beyond belief. Begs the question why these people usually don’t and continue working.

Another change to your life comes through Hyewon and Yuri. By themselves, they installed a new social life in your life. At least two times per month, the three of you meet up in a bar. You get to know new people, entirely different from you, but also basically the same. Everyone is tired from work, so it’s time to drink and party. You almost forgot how good it feels to have a variety of friends—from those that are perfect for loose parties to those that deeply care about you. 

Hyewon is the best of those friends. Nothing about your brief yet intense past seems to stick on her. She is chill around you, goofy and not at all awkward. Yuri is quite similar, though a bit more extravagant and flamboyant, which makes them the absolute gay-power couple. They just click, it’s perfect, young love. 

“Reminds me of myself.” Your lips betray you.

“What?” Hyewon shouts back, over the obnoxiously loud bass of the rock band on stage.

“Ah, nothing. Just a little envious~” you respond with fake annoyance and raise your glass for a toast. Hyewon hesitates, very out of character.

“Nah, I’m not toasting your glass before you tell me what you mean,” Hyewon says and stares into your soul with her drunk, teary eyes. Maybe she is not that drunk? Maybe you can finally open up about it?

“Really, it’s nothing.”

“Nuh-uh, tell me outside.”

And with that, Hyewon walks out the front door, you in tow as your tie becomes completely undone and your shirt is a mess. Outside you do not find privacy, just a lot of strangers talking, laughing, smoking. This time you pull Hyewon further down the street next to your parked Porsche, where it’s less likely for someone to hear you.

“Now you gotta… tell me,” Hyewon babbles.

“You are drunk, you’re not gonna remember it anyways.”

“Nuh-uh,” she says again, hitting your chest with her long, painted nails. “You need to spill it now, I’ll remember. Like I remember you only asking about me and Yuri and never talking about yourself.”

She’s spot on. You never wanted to talk about it. Eunbi’s name is pain, you don’t need to make the newfound pleasure and joy in your life go away because of her. This cheating whore—she should just go away at this point.

“You remember why we met?” you carefully ask Hyewon, testing if she is capable of understanding even though she is under heavy influence.

“Yes, your girl cheated on you.”

“Guess what: I married that girl.”

“Oh,” Hyewon says and after some delay smiles brightly. “So you talked it out and things got better? That’s why you didn’t come back, right?”

“Let’s just say that,” you gulp and your hands form fists. “Some people don’t change.”

“Fuck,” Hyewon’s pointy heels hit the sidewalk hard. “I’m sorry about that. Was it a bad divorce?”

“Huh? She still lives with you? In the same house? You share the same bed?”

“I—I did not divorce her.”

“I-I did not say that!”

“But it’s true!” Hyewon steps closer and grabs your collar. “I can see it in your eyes, you can’t let go. You hate her, but you can’t throw her away, although she deserves it.”

You want to grab Hyewon’s wrist, push her to the side and run away shouting words of denial that you are stronger than this, that she is wrong, that she doesn’t get it. However, Hyewon doesn’t deserve it—even worse, she is absolutely right.

“Yes,” you whisper.

“Yes,” she whispers and lets go. The two of you lean onto the Porsche in silence, watching customers of the bar pass by without worries, without hate, without defeat. The liquor has done wonders, turning a negative week positive. The same can’t be said about you. You feel exposed, utterly defeated by Hyewon’s words. 

“Fuck you,” you groan, face hidden in hands. “Fuck you for being right, Hyewon.”

“Sorry, but you had to hear it,” she responds and pats your back. “You need to tear her out of your life, like a terribly written chapter in a book or like awful lyrics that you wrote while high on midnight wine and sex.

“You get me?”

“I think.”

“Good.”

The world might not be good at this moment, yet Hyewon’s reassurance, her slow pats on your shoulder, her strong posture in her stunning red dress and the loving, tipsy smile on her beaming face are enough to show you the light of a better world.

“What about you?” you suddenly ask, wiping away tears you did not weep. “Something you’re hiding or keeping down?”

Hyewon looks away, her smile filling with a hint of agony, though nothing of her stunning beauty fades.

“You got me there. It’s something that’s been bugging me for maybe half a year. I know I shouldn’t but—I can’t get away from the thought, you know?”

“I would know if you would tell me,” you say playfully. Now it’s your turn to massage her shoulder, give reassurance, though you don’t know if you have any.

“It’s just that I—

“I want to have a child—my child. I love Yuri more than anything, I will never regret choosing her and only her, but this longing… it does not go away.”

“And adopting is not an option? S-sorry if that was insensitive…”

“No, it’s fine. I just want to be pregnant and raise my child together with her. You know what, forget that. It has to remain a dream.”

Suddenly, a friend of both you and Hyewon sprints out of the bar and looks around in dramatic panic until he finds the two of you. He takes leaps towards you, almost lands face first on the concrete before catching his small frame and coming to a halt.

“Hyewon,” he gasps out in between huffs and puffs. “Yuri is—she is so full, completely—you know?”

“That girl,” Hyewon sighs.

#

You return home on the same night. Your chat with Hyewon sucked out all the power the liquor usually has over you. It means that you are able to think about her words and take her seriously, but you’ll also have to live with Eunbi laying next to you, smelling like foreign sweat and cum again. You could choose the couch, but you haven’t gotten around to having it replaced with a couch where it’s better to sleep on. 

The moment you open the main door, you hear screams coming from the bedroom. Deja Vu, not the subtle kind, more like a fucking train running you over. You still remember the one time she did it almost two years ago where you caught her. This is basically the same. The same sounds, the same gut wrenching punch to your gut, hell, even the groans by the guy sound the same—

Could it be?

Eunbi, in her brand new bikini, rides the same fucking guy from back then while he has his disgusting, greedy hands all over her skin, spanking it and making her scream even louder. 

Like a silent assassin, you sneak towards the slightly ajar bedroom door. Dimmed lights illuminate the room which is filled by the smell of sex and the repetitive sounds of skin on skin. You take out your phone and use it as a mirror to catch a glimpse of what’s happening.

“You like that, you whore?” he growls at her, smiling stupidly dazed.

“Yes, oh God! Hit my tits!”

“I swear to God, your husband must be such a faggot for not immediately fucking you in that outfit. You look like a fucking breeding cow!”

“Yes, I’m cumming!”

“He can’t make you cum!”

The guy squeezes, then twists Eunbi’s breasts as she trembles, screams and squirts to an absolutely ridiculous level, one that even pornography can ot reach. She lets herself fall forward and the guy finishes inside her after a couple of thrusts. His rancid cum leaks out from every corner of Eunbi’s loose pussy. 

You almost throw up. You hurry towards the front door and hide in the back of your car. There is rage, embarrassment, pain—you can’t confront her, hell, you can’t even confront him when he leaves the house like a king, the sun slowly rising in the background. 

Your mind is empty, empty to the point it’s completely clear. You wait for Eunbi to fall asleep, then collect all the camera’s you have installed and throw them in a public trash bin. Afterwards, you clean up the house, dusting off as quietly as possible while also collecting dirty clothes to wash them (there is fucking leftover cum on some of her clothes and towels).

Lastly, you lay down next to her for a second and check if she has cleaned herself properly. 

This fucking whore, I—

“Honey, sorry for not making it last night,” you shout, pretending to come home at 5am. Eunbi shrieks and shoots up, still dressed in the brown bikini, still cum oozing from her cunt. She tries to hide herself underneath a blanket.

“Ba-babe, tha-that’s totally fine,” she responds nervously, looking very puzzled because of your tired yet bright smile.

“I saw you cleaned the house, it looks wonderful!” you compliment her.

“I, uhm.”

“Hey, even the washing machine is running—and did you bring out the trash already?”

“Well, I—”

“God, you look so hot in that bikini,” you lean down to her and cup her bountiful breasts. “I could devour you right now. Did you really wear it just for me?”

“I—

Eunbi hesitates, turns away for a second to look out of the window. She is thinking about it, clearly. This is where her final redemption can start, the way to salvation is to reveal all of her sin, the only way she can come back is to…

“I’m glad you noticed, babe,” she says with the fakest of smiles. “And yes, I would only wear this for you. B-but I’m not feeling it right now, you understand?”

You nod.

“I love you, Eunbi.”

You lying devil.

#

How did you end up here?

“Are you sure about this, Yuri?”

“Yes, do you really want this, babe?”

Yuri folds her arms and raises both her eyebrows.

“How many times do I have to tell you? Yes, I want this!”

With all doubts seemingly out of the way, the three of you make your way to the bedroom. Hyewon’s and Yuri’s apartment is small, but very cozy, the perfect place to live a relaxed, problem free life. 

But they decided to get you involved. You’re a problem here. Sure, you might have helped at starting their relationship in the first place, but now you’re here for chaos. 

Hyewon sinks onto the sheets first, Yuri’s fingers entangled with hers. Your fingers find the hem of Hyewon’s short dress. The angelic garment feels incredible, pure even in your hand and so you only hike it up with care, deeply in awe of what you’re about to see.

Meanwhile, Hyewon is a lot less pedantic and awestruck. She yanks Yuri closer, shortly fiddles with the button of her jeans and then quickly starts to undress her wife. The denim is quickly gone and before Hyewon can attack the white lace panties, Yuri shoves her lover's face into them. 

“Use your precious tongue, honey~”

Oops, you almost started to stare for too long. Better continue your hike up Hyewon’s beautiful, bountiful legs to her holy sanctuary, covered by the same lace she so greedily licks and nibbles on. Your digits hook into the white fabric and slowly pull it down, making Hyewon melt further into Yuri’s pussy. 

“You’re getting so excited, huh~?” Yuri teases and pats Hyewon’s head. The older girl nods while you start to fold her dress to finally see her wet, shaven cunt. You can smell the excitement, the arousal, the anticipation of what is about to happen to her. Now you consider yourself lucky to not have slept with anyone, which potentially avoided any and all STDs. 

It lets you create trouble.

#

How did you end up here?

It’s two days after Hyewon officially asked you to impregnate her. Tomorrow she will ask her wife in what you can only imagine will be the most stressful talk in her entire life. Today however, is not tomorrow. Today is the day you got your STD test back. Hyewon wanted you to take it for if things go her way and Yuri actually agrees to this chaotic proposal.

To no surprise, the results are negative. After all, you haven’t touched Eunbi in forever and by the way she lets seemingly everyone cum inside her, you wouldn’t be surprised if she caught anything. In the end, that was not enough however. You needed to make sure.

A bottle of champagne, neatly placed on the living room table. You put some decorations around it. Eunbi will appear here any minute, you told her you have a surprise waiting, something that will make her speechless, breathless even. 

“Hey, honey,” Eunbi announces her return, grocery bags in hands. “What is it you wanted to tell me?”

“Eunbi, I—the reason why I even took a day off is—nah, come on over! Let’s raise a glass first, shall we!”

The glasses are already filled, well prepared. Eunbi seems utterly perplexed. “Champagne in the middle of the day? Honey, what are you planning~?”

Trouble, bitch.

#

“Oh, yes, eat me, Hye, eat me.”

Yuri has started to tear off her t-shirt, the top underneath as well, to sit on Hyewon’s face completely naked. You on the other hand have only fished out your hard cock, which the incredible display of passion and erotic has surely made harder than ever. The straps of Hyewon’s dress have also started to fall down her shoulders. Finally, the chaos is coming together.

“The two of you are so hot,” you compliment and lean towards them. 

“I know,” Yuri responds in between moans and grinds her soaking pussy more and more on Hyewon’s mouth. “Your mouth is so pretty, so go-good.”

“Hyewon, are you ready?” you ask the woman below you, her nipples peeking out from her dress, her legs spread wide and invitingly and her pussy twitching when you rub up and down her labia. 

Hyewon finds her way out from in between Yuri’s thighs and rests her head back against her lover’s tight stomach. Deep breaths and eyes of absolute need signal you that yes, she is more than ready. The same goes for Yuri, who is on the one hand very fixated on rubbing and drooling all over Hyewon’s collarbone, while her eyes are focused on your cock.

“Watch him closely,” Yuri whispers. “He is going to give you our child.”

With that, you push inside of Hyewon’s awaiting pussy.

#

“What are we celebrating? Did you get another promotion?”

Eunbi looks genuinely curious. Strange, she hasn’t asked about your work at any previous point in time, unless it was about when you would be home. Keep the sarcasm to yourself, you don't want to spoil the actual surprise.

"Oh, sweety," you laugh with full bass. "No more promotions needed, we are set for life. Which is why I bought a new house!"

"No, you didn't!" Eunbi shouts and almost drops the glass.

"Careful, careful, don't spill it."

"Oh my God, you are crazy. Where is this house? Still in Korea or…"

You raise your glass towards her and smirk.

"I'll only tell you if you would do me the honor."

Eunbi reciprocates the smirk.

"Of course, darling."

The two of you set the glasses to your lips. Your eyes are wide open, your heart beats in an uncontrollable flurry as you watch Eunbi down the champagne quickly, almost in one go. You're quick to follow, while a new wind of fresh air fills your nostrils.

This should not feel this good.

#

"Ah!"

Hyewon screeches when you pierce her tight pussy open. She clings onto her wife's thighs, gripping them tightly while blurting her initial, high-pitched moans straight into the pussy above her.

"You take it so well, baby," Yuri groans and rubs Hyewon's breasts with the sweaty palms of her hands. "Squeeze him dry."

Place both hands on Hyewon’s hips and begin to slowly pump into the woman, your cock stretching her walls, filling her whole. When Yuri suddenly starts to play with the small, hidden clit above the entrance, Hyewon becomes noticebly wetter, to the point where you hear the wet sounds of her arousal. It spreads around her crotch, your crotch, her legs, your legs, the bed’s legs, until everything is a glorious mess.

“Oh, I can feel him inside you, baby,” Yuri husks as her hand roams Hyewon’s abdomen. She has gotten off her lover's face and is now gazing at it, her eyes lustful, demanding for Hyewon to be bred. “Soon, I’ll feel something else knock from inside.”

“Yu-Yuri, I’m getting close!” Hyewon screeches, her fingers wrapping around your wrists as you grip her pale body tighter and tighter as she gets tighter and tighter. “I’m about to—”

“Don’t hold back,” Yuri demands and her hand slips down to Hyewon’s clit again and rubs furiously. “I want to see you cum, cum as you finally receive this gift.”

Well, there goes the last shadow of a doubt that Yuri might have something against this crazy idea. Turns out she is even more insane than you or Hyewon. She gets off on you pounding, dominating her wife and she does the same, finally choking Hyewon’s throat gently while bringing her to a loud, splashing orgasm. From the corner of her eye, you see her urging you to not cum yet. 

If she just knew how hard this is with Hyewon wringing all over your lubricated, diamond-like cock. Her pussy sucks you in, takes your breath away, yet you are able to make Yuri’s wish come true. Just close your eyes and imagine something normal is happening, a walk in the park, a nice summer breeze, the beautiful green of the leaves—

“You are so hot, baby, eat me~”

Yuri climbs on top of Hyewon’s face again, her subtle ass turned towards you as she slams her pussy on Hyewon’s panting mouth and rubs herself all over the most flushed, most perfect features to ever graze the earth. Hyewon is barely able to stick out her tongue to tickle Yuri’s clit and it’s so endearing, you just have to make it more difficult for her.

Fold Hyewon. It's as easy as folding a piece of paper. Hyewon’s feet dangle in the air, her toes curl frantically, trying to reach the ceiling to find grip, but she is helpless. At first she lost control over her body due to the mind-blowing orgasm, now it’s because Yuri and you use her as you please. Hyewon is a tool for pleasure and she couldn’t feel more pleasure.

“Your tongue, baby, put it in—ah!” Yuri’s climax was predictable. Her small frame trembles throughout, her adorable butt is right in front of you. You take a risk and fold Hyewon further, your lips now right on Yuri’s cheek. Your lick right across it. “N-not you! B-but don’t stop now!”

So you continue. Your tongue travels all over Yuri’s cheeks, an adventure almost as good as the adventure your cock takes inside Hyewon, exploring every single place inside her scorching cunt. You eventually end up in Yuri’s butt, twirling your tongue, getting her addictive taste on your tastebuds. Sadly, you’re unable to go all out on Hyewon in the meantime, so she scrapes your shoulders, probably feeling neglected. When you look down however, she opens her mouth wide and begs in the most adorable, lewd voice:

“Share?”

You drool right into the awaiting Hyewon, transferring the taste of her wife’s asshole, but it’s not enough, you need to dive into her lips and force her tongue around in her mouth. There is no other option, you need to melt into Hyewon to give her the perfect child, a child conceived under the most ridiculous, feverish and unexplainable circumstances possible.

Yuri’s nails dig in your neck.

“Enough fun. Give her your fucking cum!”

Open your eyes a final time to find Hyewon, fucked silly, sweat, tears, girl cum all over her face and hair, eyes barely open, mouth barely closed—why is she more perfect, the messier she gets? You thrust deeply a couple of times and with a final sprint, you finish the race, with Hyewon bred and Yuri rubbing her clit in a daze. 

“Don’t pull out yet,” she babbles. “I need to—fuck—I need to get the plug first.”

#

“It needs to look like champagne, untraceable, no weird smells or anything.

“Yes, I know that that is fucking elaborate and costly, I don’t care.

“Do you want to be on the board or not? I thought so.

“We have a deal then.

“Hm? No, her death does not need to be quick.”

Infact, I want it to be as long and painful as possible.

# 20 years later #

You open the window and watch the wind splash water against the shore of Malta. This view alone is worth thirty million euros apparently—you’re inclined to agree. The blue of the ocean meets the white stones, it’s a perfect match. No matter how rough the wind comes and goes, no matter how high the sea levels may rise, these two will never betray each other.

A knock on your front door. The way she knocks is unmistakable. Ever since moving to this long forgotten, barely reachable island, you have never felt the need to hurry about anything. It’s all calm and quiet out here—you’d need to go back to Korea for your life to be busy again. But if you’d go back again, your need to see her would be too big.

You couldn’t do that to her mothers.

“Hello, dear Godfather,” the beautiful girl says with a smile and playfully bows her head.

“Hello, dear Godchild,” you return the smile and the bow. “Didn’t your mother teach you how to properly bow?”

“Which one?” she asks, not able to contain her laughter. “The one that sings or the one that sings?”

“It’s nice to see you again, Minju.”

I missed you, my daughter.

(A/N: I hope you all had a happy june/Pride month!)

#kpop smut #male reader insert #female idol smut #izone smut #girl group smut #male reader #male reader smut #hyewon smut #yuri smut #eunbi smut

[touteslespetiteschosess]

Is It Over Now? || Kylian Mbappé

Plot: Kylian and y/n have been fighting for so long, she's not even sure she knows what they're fighting for anymore. Angst.

Warnings: toxic relationship

Word count: 3458

Masterlist

y/n well done on your goal, amour x will you want dinner when you get home? i'm making myself some pasta so i'll do extra for you x do you know what time you'll be home? i've left some food in the fridge for you x kylian can you reply please? i'm worried it's getting late, where are you?

A deep frown was etched on her face, she stared at her ignored texts, the oldest sent five hours ago and the most recent nearly an hour ago. None of them had received a response and neither had her calls.

She hadn't been able to go to his match today, as she'd already arranged to go out for her friend's birthday in the morning. Kylian hadn't minded though, it wasn't a particularly important match and she rarely missed any of his games, so she could be forgiven for this. Surely that wasn't why he was ignoring her. Well, knowing him at the moment she could easily conclude that there was no reason behind the radio silence. He was just being Kylian.

Dick.

She knew he probably had no reason to ignore her; he was most likely just over at Achraf's and didn't value her emotions enough to dain her with a text back. Still, having been alone in the house for so many hours with only her thoughts to keep her company, she couldn't stop her mind from wandering. It only felt natural to pick up her phone and she really couldn't help herself from opening Instagram. Her thumbs had a mind of their own, opening one of his fan accounts.

Then there he was, grainy footage of him on their story at some club in Paris, surrounded by his teammates. And then there was somebody else. Some girl sat at his side- on his side more really- his arm flopped lazily over the back of the booth behind her.

She was saying something and he was laughing. He was laughing in a way that he never did with y/n anymore. Wow, he was really laughing- surely nothing she said could be that funny.

The video was short, maybe five seconds, but she restarted it, watching it again, feeling a fire raging within her. The next story was a photo that some stranger in the club had taken. The pair were on the dance floor, none of his friends were in sight now. Her hands were up in the air and only now did y/n notice the girl's outfit. She wore a little red dress, just like the one that hung up in y/n and Kylian's shared closet. It was his favourite dress and she knew it.

At the sight, the fire that burned within her suddenly settled, an eery calm setting over her. After a few moments, she headed upstairs and drew a bath, watching the water slowly rise up the tub's sides. She loved that bath; the tub was huge, yet elegant, and sat right in front of a huge window which gave the most amazing view of the Eiffel Tower. Besides that, she and Kylian had spent some memorable nights in this bathtub. Not for a while though, she thought.

Now that she really considered it, she wasn't sure how many good memories she had with Kylian in the last six months. Maybe after three years together, she'd just grown used to the knowledge that she loved him and hadn't considered if he still deserved it. Maybe she hadn't considered if he still deserved her.

Maybe she'd been so caught up in the idea of the perfect man she'd met in that bar three years ago. She still remembered that innocent smile so vividly, the way he'd lift his glass to sip, almost hiding behind the thing. How every time she'd flirt with him, he'd blush like a schoolboy, and then suddenly shoot back with the most outrageous comment.

How a month after they'd started dating, the pandemic hit, and he'd turned up at her door, much to her disapproval. Then, he'd immediately asked her to move in with him. She still remembered his words.

Take a chance. If we're gonna go down, let's go down in flames. I don't wanna forget you, baby.

That aged like room-temperature milk.

He'd convinced her so easily, his charming smile and smooth words always getting the best of her. And he'd been right. Those had been the best few months of her life.

And even after lockdown, when she was back at work and football became more full on, everything had just seemed so right. He just seemed so right.

Every time he'd go away for matches, he'd always find some stupid trinket to bring home for her. The tradition had started the week they'd met, when she'd asked him out on another date and he'd had to turn her down, as he was playing away in Italy. He'd brought her back a little keyring- a pizza with Italia written on it. It was so tacky and so cheesy that she immediately fell in love... with the keyring. Their fridge was still littered with far too many magnets to count, very out of place in his black and white, minimalist kitchen.

Of course, she remembered the first gift, and she remembered the first time he'd forgotten. It was after an away match to Manchester City. An away match that had knocked PSG out of the Champions League- in the semi-finals.

It wasn't that she'd been expecting a gift- no, she completely understood. It was difficult for him; he'd been injured and therefore couldn't play the second leg. He'd had to go all the way to Manchester and didn't even get to kick the ball. He just had to sit on the bench and watch his dream fade before his eyes.

Despite not playing, she knew he blamed himself. He always blamed himself. For the injury. For not scoring in the first leg. For everything.

At the time, she hadn't been upset that he hadn't bought her some shitty magnet for their already cluttered fridge or a bottle opener for their already stuffed drawer. Besides, Manchester didn't have much to offer in the tourism department besides football, so she could forgive him for not wanting to search through shops full of his opponents' memorabilia, just to uphold their tradition.

Looking back on it though, that was the moment he snapped. Three weeks later, he'd returned from Reims empty-handed; when she'd playfully questioned him, asking how she was supposed to sleep at night without an 'I <3 Reims' t-shirt, he'd grunted something about being busy with work and she tried not to let her face fall, wishing he'd have just made some stupid joke in response.

Y/n, I can't afford to keep buying you all these presents.

Honey, nobody hearts Reims.

Well, I had some grapes for you but I got peckish.

But no, he'd just grumbled some excuse and gone up to their room. They'd won the game too. The last match of the season. Sure, they hadn't won the league but that fate had been sealed weeks ago.

Of course, at the time, she hadn't sat up at night, tossing and turning because her relationship was over. She'd understood. For him, she'd understood.

Then, the trinkets began to come every other away match, then once a month, once every few months, and then they stopped coming. The last remnant of their once-sacred tradition still sat on her fridge. He'd brought it back after an unremarkable league tie against Nice. A little magnet in the shape of a palm tree, in the colours of the French flag, with two words on it.

Trés Nice!

What did that even mean? Neither of them were sure. She loved it.

After that, however, the keyrings, and magnets, and bottle openers, and t-shirts, and pens had suddenly stopped. Not trés Nice!

The bath was full, the bubble bath she'd added working a treat. Slowly, she eased herself into the warm water, sighing as she settled back in the tub. She didn't even have her phone but she really didn't care. For what must have been an hour, she stared out the window at the city below her. From his castle, she watched his kingdom, knowing she didn't have a place in it anymore.

She stared at the dark streets they used to haunt, giggling hand in hand as they snook out of their apartment for late-night strolls (though it was always technically morning) down streets that at any other hour would be packed with hundreds of people, pointing at Kylian. Or when they used to go to tourist attractions in the middle of the winter and he'd pull on a balaclava, dragging her up the Eiffel Tower or the Champs Elysees, insisting her liked the thrill. In truth, so did she.

She liked standing hand in hand with him, knowing the crowds around them had no idea Kylian Mbappé was in their midst, and they never would because he was her Kylian. For that moment, at least.

It was late when she heard the door downstairs, the security system blaring loudly. She didn't panic, as it quickly turned off. He didn't say a word on his arrival. She could hear him drawing closer to their bedroom, his feet heavy on the stairs, in the hallway, in their room, approaching the bathroom door.

She thought he'd let his guard down when they first met, telling her his worries and fears, but maybe he only truly knocked down his walls that night in the bathroom months ago, showing his true self.

Maybe she only truly got to know him after Qatar, when he really snapped. When she'd tried to comfort him and he'd yelled at her because she'd never truly understand what he was going through. She'd told him she was sorry. She'd apologised. For what? She still wasn't quite sure.

Maybe she only truly knew Kylian when she'd been struggling at work, doing overtime to catch up on her ridiculous workload at home. She'd missed his match and he'd lost; then, when he returned home and she hadn't been in the mood for kisses and cuddles, he'd been furious. He'd said it was her fault she was stressed- she'd brought it on herself. She could quit her job any day and never worry about money again. She'd tried to explain but he couldn't comprehend her need for self-reliance. If anything, he was insulted that she didn't trust him enough to let him take care of her. He'd never been overly traditional or had an obviously fragile masculinity but that night she'd questioned everything she thought she knew about him.

Of course, he'd apologised the next morning and she'd forgiven him. They were both stressed and there was no reason to let one pressure-fueled spat escalate into more than it needed to. Then those one-off spats became more and more common until they were the norm. If they weren't in silence, they were fighting.

They only found peace when they were fucking. Even that physicality wasn't what it once was, no longer the same slow, gentle love-making. Now it was always quick, desperate, his once soft kisses now left bruises and his whispers of sweet nothings had morphed into wordless grunts and moans.

Is that all this relationship was anymore? Physical.

Light flooded the dimly-lit bathroom, as he swung the door open carelessly. He looked almost taken back at the sight of her, his eyebrows raising a little, as though he hadn't expected to see her here- in her own house.

Then again, maybe it wasn't her house. Sure, she'd lived here for almost as long as they'd been together but it was never really her house. It was Kylian's house in Kylian's city, and she was here too.

He stared at her for a few seconds before smirking, "Hey." he mumbled, already stripping down to join her.

She sunk further down in the tub, allowing the thick layer of bubbles to give her back her modesty. Silently, she watched him, her lips a flat line, her eyes on his face, not his naked body. He wasn't looking back at her. He was too focused on hastily ripping of his trousers and his shirt.

Without hesitation or any more words exchanged, he climbed in the tub and she leant forward as he slipped behind her. She wanted to be held in his arms just one more time, to feel his body against hers. He positioned his legs on either side of her, his arms flopping over her shoulders, as he pulled her back into his chest. Resting his face on her shoulder, he let out a noise, somewhere between a contented hum and a whine.

She ignored him, turning her head to stare out of the window. The city's skyline was dark and at this time, the tower's lights were off. Now, it was just a dark silhouette against a dark horizon, only made visible by the bright light of the full moon.

"What are you sulking about?"

As he spoke, she could smell the alcohol on his breath and she almost wretched at the scent. Her voice was calm and steady, as she asked, "Where have you been?"

Her voice sounded like she had an innocent curiosity in the question as if she didn't already know the answer, or she was merely asking to make small talk.

"Oh, some of the team wanted to go out to celebrate the win."

He didn't lift his head from her shoulder, placing a soft kiss on the damp skin. He lied with such ease. Well, he hadn't entirely lied, just withheld some important elements of the truth. Maybe she'd have preferred it if he'd just lied to her. At least then he would have had to make a conscious effort to deceive her. No, this felt so much worse; he spoke with such ease, as though it was the whole truth, and maybe he too believed it. Maybe he believed that she didn't need to know about the girl in the red dress, just like he'd believed she didn't need a text back, or a kiss goodbye before he left the house this morning, or a goodnight before she fell asleep last night or the night before that or the night before that.

"And who was that girl?" she asked, her voice still chirpy, not a hint of bitterness showing in her tone.

"Huh?" he twisted his head, the side of it on her shoulder, gazing up at her face.

"The girl you were with. She was in a red dress, like the one I have. Blonde hair and-"

"Oh," he cut her off quickly, "she's one of Ousmane's friends, I think."

"You think?"

"Mhm, I don't really know. I didn't speak to her that much."

Now, that wasn't a half-truth, that was simply a lie.

"Oh, okay. Just 'cause you seemed really friendly with her."

He scoffed, lifting his head, his tone suddenly switching, "What, were you stalking me?"

"No, but you didn't reply to my texts and you came home seven hours after the match finished, so I wanted to make sure you weren't dead in some ditch."

"Of course, I wasn't. Can I not have a night out with my friends?"

"Yeah, that's fine but you didn't fucking text me back and the next thing I see you've got some random girl in your lap at the club and you don't even have the courtesy to tell me about it."

"It wasn't like that! Why would I come home and tell my girlfriend that some nobody had been coming onto me in the club?" he snapped.

"Because you were coming onto her too! Don't you think I deserved to be warned that people were going to post pictures of my boyfriend with someone else! It's fucking humiliating!"

She stood up and climbed out of the bath, wanting to get as far away from him as possible. She quickly grabbed her robe from where it hung and wrap it around herself. She sat on the little ottoman in the corner, hugging her arms around herself.

"What are you saying? You know I wouldn't cheat on you!"

He yelled the statement as though it were a fact. Maybe he believed it. He seemed to believe a lot of things. Maybe he just didn't think about her perspective much.

"No, I don't! What reason have you given me to trust you?"

His face fell into an expression of fury, "What are you talking about?"

"I don't know, Kylian!" she almost yelled and almost sighed, somewhere in the middle, "I don't know. What are we even doing this for?"

"You tell me! You're the one picking a fight for no reason!"

"No, not this just... why are we here? We keep fighting and I don't know what for."

He stood up, "What..."

"I'm not happy! You're not happy! What's the point!"

Wrapping a towel around his waist, he rushed over to her, "I'm happy, of course I am!"

"Well, I'm not." she murmured, standing up from the seat and heading for the bathroom door.

"What are you doing, where are you going?" he asked, panic setting over him.

"Away," she muttered, heading to the closet.

"No, you're not." he declared, chasing after her, "Look, baby, I'm sorry, okay?" Ignoring him, she began to change into some joggers and a hoodie. "Y/n, you're not leaving me."

"Why not? All we ever do is fight! There's no point in us being together if we make each other fucking miserable!"

"I told you, you make me happy! You make me happier than anyone else in the world!"

"Why don't you treat me like it then? Why don't you treat me like I'm worth anything? Like I'm a fucking human being!"

He was quiet, watching her as she grabbed a bag and started to toss clothes into it. "Y/n, I love you. I-"

"Do you, though? Really?"

"I do. Look I know I've been busy with work but you know how stressful my job is. I'm trying to be here for you and do my best for the team-"

"No, you're not. I know how hard you work but I have needs too. I can't keep doing this."

She dropped to her knees, zipping up the bag, packed with enough clothes for a few days. He stood in the doorway, blocking her exit as she tried to get her toothbrush from the bathroom.

As she stood in front of him, he took her hands in his, "Please, baby, I'll change. I'll do it for you, I swear."

"It's too late, Ky," she said, shoving past him. He didn't budge, "Kylian, get out of my way."

He clutched her hands as though his life depended on it, placing soft kisses on both of them, "I need you. You can't leave me."

"You should have thought about that before, shouldn't you?"

She shoved him out of the way and grabbed a few things from the bathroom before heading for the front door. He chased after her, his mind racing and his heart pumping a mile a minute in his chest. He swore it was working so hard he could hear his heartbeat in his ears- or was it the sound of her feet on the stairs?

"Y/n," God, her name sounded so right on his lips, he wanted to say her name forevermore, "she meant nothing. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have entertained her like that." Tears were forming in his hazel eyes, he watched her putting on her shoes, "Y/n, you can't leave me, I love you. I- I don't want to live without you. I don't want to be on my own."

"Kylian," she stood up and cupped his cheek. Her hand was so warm and fit so perfectly around his face, as though it was moulded just for it, "you know I'll always love you."

Covering her hand with his own, he shook his head, a single tear rolling down his cheek, "Don't do this to me, amour."

She hated seeing him like this: he barely ever cried. In all of their time together, she'd seen him cry maybe four times and it had never been because of her.

Her soft thumb wiped away the tear, "Don't cry. You'll be okay."

Then she was gone. The door was open and then it was closed. She was there and then she was gone.

He watched the space she'd been stood in for far too long, as though she'd swing the door open at any moment and declare that she'd had a sudden change of heart. But she wouldn't.

She was gone. It was over.

Masterlist

#kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe x you #kylian x reader #kylian fanfic #kylian imagines #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe x y/n #mbappé #mbappe #footballer #france #fanfic #football #french

[creedslove]

DESERVE IT - PART NINE

Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: the morning after you spent the night with Javi arrives and you both need to deal with what happens next

Warnings: fluff, like so much fluff you will die of fluff, domestic!Javi, romantic!Javi, arguments, a tiny bit of angst

A/N: if you guys want some romance, get ready because you are about to have it!!!!

• PART ONE

• PART TWO

• PART THREE

• PART FOUR

• PART FIVE

• PART SIX

• PART SEVEN

• PART EIGHT

3.9kwords

For the past couple of months, every time Javier would lie his head on his pillow and try to get to sleep, he thought of Manuel Herrera and how that cabrón was the luckiest motherfucker in the world. To Javi, Manu was a mediocre cop, there were worse cops than him, and there were better cops than him. His grades weren't the best, and he didn't graduate with all the honors, Javier found out when he convinced Colleen to access his personal file and hand it over to him. He wanted to know everything about the man, all the good and all the dirt, because there was no way in hell he would sit down with his arms crossed and let you get involved with someone he didn't know. You didn't want anything to do with him, was one thing. He couldn't interfere, he couldn't force you into taking any other choice, but the least he could do was to make sure you were safe with your new man.

Javier spent days talking to his peers. He was gathering as much information on Manu as possible but still, he couldn't find anything. He didn't find any dirt, any gossip, not even when he tried running his name through the brothels, he couldn't get one single piece of information. It seemed you'd found yourself a good guy and he thought he could never compete with that. It was time for him to accept that Manu was a better man in every aspect than him. Unlike him, Manu wasn't a dirty cop, he didn't have agreements with Los Pepes, he wasn't the most known cop in Colombia's whorehouses and above all, Manu had you, while Javi could only dream of that. Your face was the last thing he saw before sleeping and that first thing that came to his mind when he woke up.

Even though he told himself he was fine with you moving on, he wasn't. He couldn't really accept the fact you were with someone else, of course he didn't really have a choice but his heart was broken.

While you kept your distance from him it'd been somewhat easier, but the moment he had to face you across the hall, making that much of a noise for another man, it really hit him: he'd lost you and there was no turning back.

Javi felt a pure rage like nothing hit him before. He felt betrayed, he felt someone had stolen from him and he couldn't bear being near you if you weren't his.

So he went out to drink, but when the morning came, he had to face you at Steve's barbecue, which was a mixture that shouldn't have happened.

And that was why you had argued, and for the first time you had admitted your feelings for him, he knew it, in fact, pretty much everybody knew it, but hearing you say you were once in love with him made him realize the mistake he'd made.

He loved you, and you used to love him, and due to a matter of time, place and stupidity, you couldn't be together anymore.

So Javier went after trouble and he got it, the sicario didn't miss one single punch and Javi went back to his senses, he was coughing blood and limping his way through the hallway.

And then you showed up, looking like an angel, sent from heaven, just to help him, with your grace and kindness.

And right then, without expecting anything in return you were there for him, after everything bad he'd done. After all the pain he made you go through you were still there.

He felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest with love.

He had it bad for you, he was in very deep.

For the first time in his life, Javier Peña admitted to himself he felt truly and deeply in love.

If he didn't know any better, he would've fallen to his knees, begged you for forgiveness for everything bad he'd ever put you through and he would have to control himself not to beg you to be his wife.

Because from that moment you sat on his lap, through the moment you sat on his face and he finally tasted your sweet honey, so addictive and intoxicating, to the moment you finally fell asleep in his arms, the only thing that crossed Javier's mind was making you his forever.

He hadn't planned on touching you, he wanted to show you he wasn't looking after sex, he wanted you to see he lingered your presence, he craved your affection, he just wanted to fall asleep feeling safe and happy for the first time in years, but you'd kissed him, and from that moment on, the two of you couldn't stop. The way you wanted him, the way you touched him after he'd brought you to your orgasm, showed him you desired him as much as he desired you. It wasn't just love, just affection, and it wasn't just sexual attraction either. It was all those things combine, the whole package, suddenly, after a lifetime of seeing himself as a lonely guy, unable to have lasting relationships or intimacy, after all that time of accepting he would never settle down like everyone else did around him, he realized maybe, just maybe he had a chance to do that. It was what he'd ever heard of and for a long period he assumed it was just bullshit, he thought it wasn't more than cheap plots for movies and soap operas because he never thought loving someone like that could be real.

Javier had heard his pa talking about it whenever he mentioned his ma, and though he did believe his parents had such a beautiful love story, he was sure that kind of thing wouldn't happen to him. He just wasn't the guy for it, no one that left his bride waiting at the altar would be worth of being loved by any other women.

When the realization of that hit him, it felt something inside of Javier had died and he only looked for women when he needed sexual satisfaction, at first they were hookups he would pick up at bars, but as soon as he learned his way around informants in Colombia, he turned to hookers as well, he would pay them for information and only information, until one of them asked him why he wouldn't enjoy the rest of the time if he'd paid for the full hour. And after that, he was doomed.

It was an endless parade of nameless, faceless and heartless women, because he never remembered any of these features, though he was always respectful towards them, they were just a means to an end and that was it.

He'd lived his life like that, tricking himself. He was somewhat happy or pleased by it, until you came into the picture. And that rocked his little world.

You'd put him under your spell, and as much as he tried fighting you as hard as he could, now that he'd had a taste of you, he'd surrendered completely. He didn't want anything else in life, but you.

So when you fell asleep in his arms, he realized for the first time in months he didn't have to picture your face before sleeping in hopes of dreaming of you, because you were right there, in his arms, the place Javier Peña never wanted you to leave.

Morning came too fast, and with that, a heavy weight placed itself in his chest. He knew his time with you was almost over, but the scene he woke up to prevented him from getting upset, as the first view that came to his eyes was you lying naked in his bed, on top of him.

Javi could swear his heart ached at the sight of you. You were so gorgeous, too good for him, but he loved how your body weighed against his, your skin and how soft it felt.

He buried his face into your hair and inhaled your delicious scent. He allowed himself to relax and made sure you were covered so he could close his eyes and go back to sleep.

When someone banged on the door repeatedly. Javi immediately groaned and rolled his eyes, a lot of possibilities crossing his mind.

What if it was Manu? What if somehow he found out his girlfriend had spent the night over? Of course it wouldn't be the first time Javier would have to face an angry boyfriend or even an angry husband after a lay, but you weren't just a lay, you were his now, Javier felt he had you and the only one who could say otherwise was you. If you wanted to go back to Manu afterwards he would just pick up the pieces of his heart and keep on living his miserable life, but if you chose him over your boyfriend, you were about to own him, because Javi had accepted he wanted to be tamed by you.

His blood ran cold when he realized it could be one of the prostitutes he hired, technically they would have no reasons to knock on his door on a Sunday morning but anxiety still crept up because things were just going too good for him, what if one of them showed up at his door, asking him for any favor and giving you those eyes that in another time would make him weak at the knees, you would certainly be pissed off, and he would have no other way to get you back. He sighed and thought of closing his eyes one more time and ignore the noise, but another bang on the door caught his attention.

"Damn Peña, wake up!!!!" Steve said in a loud voice as he was getting impatient at the amount of time he'd been trying to get Javier out of his apartment.

Javi felt relief and carefully rolled you to your side of the bed, before jumping off it, just putting on his jeans - with no underwear at all - and opened the door.

Steve raised his eyebrow and looked at him before rolling his eyes.

"They called from the office, we got a lead on La Quica, I give you one hour to get ready and meet me by the car or I'm going alone" he said impatiently and saw as Javi nodded.

Steve closed his arms and scoffed.

"And for the record, the lady friends you used to bring home weren't as loud as the one from last night… We fucking heard her from our apartment, Connie got pissed" he said "no wonder Y/N hates your guts" he shook his head and walked away.

Javi took a deep breath, to control his anger at Steve's harsh words and closed the door

"Fucking hillbilly" he mumbled under his breath and was surprised when two arms wrapped around his body.

You chuckled at their interaction and kissed his neck and then all over his broad shoulder.

"So Steve thought I was one of your hookers?" You raised your eyebrow as he turned around and placed his hands on your waist

"He's a dick, hermosa, don't mind him" his voice was nothing but a low purr as his thumb caressed your skin. Javier took a good look at you, loving to see you were wearing nothing but one of his shirts you found discarded in his bedroom. It barely covered your modesty but you didn't care, it felt so good to be wearing his shirt, it was not a big deal, but at the same time it represented an intimate act.

You shook your head and bit your lips to hide your smile "well, Steve wasn't wrong though, I guess I made a lot of noise" you chuckled and squealed when Javier's hand gripped your ass cheeks and lifted you up, you laughed excitedly and immediately wrapped your legs around his waist, pressing you against the wall for a kiss.

You gripped his hair and looked at him

"Morning, hermoso" you winked and giggled at his surprised expression of being called that way.

He chuckled and sustained your weight once more, carrying you to the kitchen and placing you on the counter.

"I'll make us some breakfast, you heard Steve, we only have one hour" he winked at you and began preparing everything as you watched him.

That was an image you could definitely get used to, domestic, shirtless and bed haired Javier Peña cooking you breakfast. You admired the way the outline of his muscles were visible each time he moved around. You bit your lips and let yourself be taken back to the night before, when Javi still drunk, hurt and feverish, low-key proposed to you. How he'd talked about a life you would share as a couple, as a married couple, as if he'd already planned things. Of course he didn't mean any of that, you were sure, but it had felt so good to allow yourself to dream, for a least a second, pretend it could happen, it could work. It just made you so happy and warm on the inside to picture yourself as his wife. Maybe living in the ranch he'd mentioned, you both with easy jobs, nothing traumatic or stressful, just living your lives together among nature, animals and happiness, until baby Peña came along…

"Y/N?" Javi asked you, seeing your mind was far away, but he needed to get you back into reality, at least for breakfast.

You looked at him surprised, you hadn't realized you were so distracted.

He pointed at the two big plates he was carrying, one of them with pancakes and the other one with scrambled eggs, because he knew you liked them both.

You giggled and jumped off the counter, walking to the table and deciding to sit on his lap.

You had already cheated on your boyfriend, done some kinky shit with Javier, you figured having breakfast all over him wouldn't change your status to a worse person than you already were.

He chuckled and rested his arm on your thighs, silently enjoying your closeness.

You checked on his bruise and saw it was darker than the night before, but he didn't seem to be in as much pain as he was.

"So, I'll go with Steve after the lead on La Quica and you can stay if you want, cariño… there's not much you can do to entertain yourself but if you'd like to hang out you're more than welcome…"

You looked down at your own hands and sighed, as a sudden wave of guilt hit you.

As much as you'd love to stay and explore Javi's entire apartment, you knew you had to talk to Manu as quickly as possible.

Javier got the demeanor of your behavior and bit the side of his lips, taking a deep breath and nodding silently.

"I have something to do, I'm sorry Javi…"

There it was. The goodbye he had dreaded from the beginning, he had to give in and admit that for a second, he really didn't think it would happen, maybe he was reading too much into your behavior or maybe he had just been too hopeful for the development of the relationship you two could have, but of course, it was just too good for him. He should've known better than to have high hopes.

You looked into his eyes, he was staring at his plate, silently as he chewed slowly and sipped his coffee.

"I need to talk to Manu, what happened last night… between you and me… it was wrong, it shouldn't have happened…"

"Do you regret it?"

"What?"

"Last night. Do you regret it, Y/N? Yes or no?" He cut you off, needing to know, he wanted to know if you were misleading him or if you'd been honest, as honest as he was with you.

"I cheated on my boyfriend, Javi… but no, I don't regret it, I can't lie to you nor to myself, I don't regret it at all, and I would do everything again, in fact, I want to do everything again…" you admitted and placed his hand closer to your inner thigh.

Relief poured all over his body and allowed himself to go soft, his muscles relaxed and he realized he'd been slightly rude to you.

"Sorry cariño…" he kissed your shoulder and you nodded.

"I'll break up with Manu, Javi… I can't be with him anymore, I don't love him, I never did, and what happened between us, it made me realize I don't wanna live a lie, I can't do this to him, it's not fair, and it's not fair to me either, and it's not fair to you" you sighed and watched as he remained silent.

"Can I see you tonight again?" Javier nodded at your question and stroked your thighs "my place?" He shook his head "your place?" Another negative sign. You frowned and felt a small anxiety in your chest.

Javier laughed and held your chin between his fingers "I'll take you out on a date, a real, proper date…" he said "because you deserve it, you ain't just any woman, you're mine now, Y/N… you're my hermosa, my muñequita, you're mi amor" he said as his heart raced with anxiety, he knew he'd been too forward and he feared it would scare you away. He just hadn't done that in so long, to him, relationships were resumed to either picking up a girl at a bar and bringing her home or hiring another for an hour or two and that was it, so now, he was still getting used to it again, he didn't know if his moves were still good enough or if he was just embarrassing himself in front of you. All he wanted to do was not screw this up this time.

Your heart also skipped a beat, he'd called you mi amor as a pet name many times, but for the first time, it felt like he meant it. You smiled and you were about to reply when another sudden bang on the door interrupted you.

"I swear to God, Peña, if you aren't ready yet I'll personally ask Messina to fire you" Steve's screaming voice came from the other side of the door.

You immediately got off Javi's lap and handed him a shirt. He put it on and grabbed his wallet, car keys, sunglasses and turned around, facing you once "I'll pick you up tonight, as 8 PM" He said and leaned in for a quick peck on the lips, but you held his face between your hands "take care, mi amor" you whispered against his lips and noticed his dumbfounded expression as he exited the apartment - being careful enough when opening the door so Steve wouldn't be able to see you there.

As you were left alone in Javi's apartment, you didn't know what to do with yourself. You were giggly, excited, and it felt like you had just been invited to prom, as pure happiness flooded you to think of going on a date with him. His words, not yours.

It was Sunday and you had so many hours to kill and though you still needed to be honest with Manu, you didn't actually want to think of that.

Instead, you scanned Javi's place, realizing you could explore it as much as you'd like, taking your time and even snooping around a little.

But you decided to start by doing the breakfast dishes. You figured you would keep your mind busy while you left everything organized. It was sweet enough he made you breakfast so it would only be fair if you didn't leave a mess behind. As you washed the plates and cups of coffee, you thought of the night you spent together. Funny how only 24 hours ago you were still angry with Javier, if someone had told you just a day later you'd be more excited than a schoolgirl to go out with him, you'd call them crazy.

But you just couldn't even see him hurt like that, you had a real bad feeling about the whole Los Pepes deal when you found out, your worst fear was Javier ending up killed by them, it was enough to bring you nightmares, so you always avoided even thinking of that. The moment you saw him so vulnerable, so hurt, you just couldn't turn your back to him, you needed to be there, to show him things would be alright because he wasn't alone, and one thing led to another to the point you just couldn't hide it anymore. You were madly in love with him.

You smiled at yourself and moved to his bedroom, just a couple of hours ago you two were tangled in that bed, as if you were only one. You'd slept so well you couldn't even remember the last time you didn't wake up in the middle of the night, Javi's presence was so soothing, it felt right, and when things feel right no matter if they are wrong, they still make you happy.

You knew you were wrong, you shouldn't have done what you did to your boyfriend, he didn't deserve it and if it had been the other way around, you would've been crushed. You couldn't make things right to Manu, but you owed him honesty. So you'd made up your mind to go after him and explain why you shouldn't be together anymore. You couldn't undo the damage done to him, but you didn't know exactly what you'd tell him. You couldn't just throw Javier under the bus, after Carlos, you couldn't let your guard down, even if Manu wasn't a psycho who would try to kill you, you couldn't afford being involved in yet another office scandal concerning private relationships.

But just because Manu was respectful of you, it didn't mean he wouldn't take it out on Javi, after all, he never literally liked Javier before, for once because of his infamous reputation and also for the time their departments had a feud in one of the cases.

You sighed, making the bed as thinking of how you left your perfume all over those sheets, and even if by any chance Javi didn't want to see you again, he would still have to handle your scent in his bed for at least a few days. You chuckled at the thought and focused on your task.

The bed was perfectly made when someone knocked on the door, you frowned, suspicious at who could

possibly be knocking on Javier's door, when you eyed his badge on the coffee table you chuckled, Steve had rushed Javi to the point he forgot about it.

You quickly grabbed it and opened the door, being sure he was there to get it before he could go into his full cop mood.

"Listen, Peña, I'm here to talk about Y/N, I-" Manu's words disappeared mid sentence as he stood there in complete shock seeing you had opened the door to Javier's apartment, the man he hated the most in the whole, completely naked under his shirt.

It was an inexcusable situation, Manu was the last person you expected to be knocking, and you swore you would talk to him, you would come clean with him, but now it wasn't necessary as he had found out about your dirty little secret.

Manu just couldn't process the fact you, the woman he was growing to love was Javier Peña's puta.

_____

A/N: idk besties, at some point i asked myself: is this too much fluff for javier? Then i remember i am still sick and I NEED javier fluff, i love this chapter so much, the way he's sooooo in love with reader, i know he's a dick but he's already paid for what he did, and yes, cheating is wrong but reader can't help, she loves Javi so cut her some slack. Anyways, let me know what you guys thought of this chapter? What do you guys think it will happen next?

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x y/n #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fanfic #javier peña imagine #javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena x y/n #javier pena fanfic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena imagine

[satansapostle6]

Kids | Rodrick Heffley

Spotify Playlist Link

Rodrick Heffley becomes obsessed when he finally meets his thirty-five year old band mate, Bill Walter’s, younger sister.

Warnings: Mature themes/language. Drug use. Violence. Almost smut. Choking. Semi-public. Knee riding.

“The Angel From My Nightmare”

“10 Things I Hate About You”

“Alright, go have fun. Come get me if you need something,” Sara told her younger brother.

“Do you have to stay?” Connor complained as she and Lauren sat at a table.

“Sorry, kiddo. We gotta have fun too,” she teased. “Go. Have fun. We’ll be all the way over here, you won’t even know we’re here.”

That turned out to be completely wrong.

“It’s super crowded in here… Even Heather Hills and her friends are here tonight,” Lauren observed.

“Ew. She puts the ‘bully’ in bulimic,” Sara muttered.

“Yeah, even I’m not that far in denial,” Lauren agreed, turning as everyone noticed a loud feedback coming off of the DJ’s microphone.

The music stopped, and no one knew what was happening.

“Alright, enough of that,” Rodrick Heffley’s voice blasted over the speakers, replacing the music that had been playing.

Everyone at the roller rink stopped to see that he and the rest of the band had set up near the DJ booth, completely hijacking the music.

“Oh my God,” Lauren whispered, looking to Sara. “Did you know about this?”

“No,” Sara hissed, looking at Rodrick in horror.

“We are Löded Diper, and we’re here to blow your minds,” Bill joined in.

“Oh my fucking God,” Sara murmured, trying her best to blend into the crowd as she scooted as far down the bench as possible.

But she quickly found that anonymity definitely wouldn’t be in the cards for her tonight.

“I’m Rodrick. Rodrick Heffley,” a shaky voice breathed into the mic.

“Hurry up!” someone’s dad yelled, more irritated about not hearing music than the whole music hijacking situation.

“Alright, uh… I’m here to sing one song. It’s a very special song, that goes out to a very special girl. Sara? Sara Walter?” Rodrick desperately searched the crowd for her.

He eventually found her, staring right at her as everyone in the roomed stared, including Heather Hills and the other ‘popular’ girls. Sara’s eyes widened with rage as her little brother and his friends all stared in her direction.

“Sara,” Rodrick stared, his eyes full of fear. “I… I’m sorry. You’re the prettiest, smartest girl in the world.”

Sara’s face went pale as she slowly turned to Lauren with all eyes on her.

“What the fuck?” she mouthed silently.

It seemed no one had anything to offer.

“Sara, I know you’re probably mad at me, and you probably should be. You’re beautiful, and you’re kind, and I don’t deserve you,” he blurted out as everyone watched.

Heather and her friends were now whispering and pointing in disgust.

“Listen, Sara, I get it if you never wanna talk to me again… But I really, really like you,” Rodrick announced in front of the entire building.

“Get on with it already!” another impatient onlooker shouted.

“Right, yeah, here goes,” he continued, rambling as he signaled to the band to start playing. “This song is for you, Sara Walter.”

Bill waved to her excitedly, completely unable to read the room as he tried to make the situation less intense. She watched, completely frozen as the band started playing. It was a bit rocky in the first few seconds, but then, she immediately recognized the song after the first few chords.

Struck by the effort that went into coordinating the entire thing, Sara could hardly control her racing thoughts. She didn’t know whether to be angry at Rodrick for the spectacle, or charmed by the gesture, or creeped out by the entire thing.

“And I’d give up forever to touch you…” the sixteen year old boy sang shakily in front of the crowd, his vocals questionable at best.

“'Cause I know that you feel me somehow

You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be

And I don't want to go home right now,”

Some people in the room, namely Heather’s group, laughed and whispered as Rodrick took the stage. Eventually, the teasing throughout the room got to be brutal, but he still persisted, trying his best not to break.

“God, he’s an idiot, but I still feel kinda bad,” Sara murmured.

“Sara. I’m gonna be completely honest with you,” Lauren raised an eyebrow. “You need to go kiss that boy right now.”

“Seriously? I’m just gonna run back into his arms because he made a fool of himself for me?” she reasoned. “That’s his whole brand!”

“Sara,” Lauren reminded her, her approach stern but caring. “Would Jake Anderson ever have performed your favorite slow song for you in a room full of people, even if his singing was pretty dog shit?”

Sara sat in silence for a moment as everyone still looked over at her, trying to gauge her reaction.

“What about Tyler Hayden? Or Lenwood Heath?”

“Okay, I get your point,” Sara said softly.

“I haven’t seen anybody give this much of a fuck for you since you were with Nadine,” Lauren admitted. “And you know how much I liked you guys.”

“Yeah,” Sara thought, considering her options.

“I think he really means what he says. Even if he’s fucking stupid,” Lauren told her.

Sara just sighed, looking up at Rodrick on the platform as he sang for her, never taking his eyes off her even once. It was the only thing keeping him grounded.

“And I don't want the world to see me

'Cause I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am,”

He sang like his life depended on it, which it kind of did. As much as Sara hated to admit it, she saw a look of genuine regret in his eyes that day. All she could think about was how much she really did like Rodrick, all the way until the end of the song.

It ended and a complete silence washed over the room, as just about everyone just stood around waiting for a resolution. Even security had been waiting until the spectacle was over to intervene. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, but it was the first time that yielded any interesting results.

Of course, Heather and her friends wouldn’t stop whispering, but Rodrick refused to pay them any mind. He cleared his throat as the song ended, staring out at Sara with a sad, dopey look in his eyes as he prayed she’d forgive him.

“Fuck it,” Sara muttered to herself, walking out onto the rink.

She marched up to the platform looking both angry and confused. Rodrick didn’t know what to expect, and slowly stepped down in shock. He stood right in front of her, walking up to her as he waited for her to react to him in some way.

“I’m sorry,” he started to apologize, “I didn’t know how to make it up to you—”

“I don’t care,” she said finally, a resolve in her eyes.

“What does that mean?” Rodrick asked, ignoring the girls who were pointing and making fun.

“That means, fuck it, Rodrick Heffley, I’m really starting to like you too.”

Rodrick’s grunt of surprise was muffled into a spontaneous kiss as Sara jumped into his arms, which was met with a mostly positive reaction from their audience. He was hesitant at first, slowly warming up to her again as he scooped her up in his arms, kissing her lips like he’d never get the chance to again.

After a moment, they remembered where they were, and Rodrick awkwardly set her down on the ground with reluctance. He looked up and down nervously, not sure what to say now.

“Can we go?” Sara asked, uncomfortable as she looked around.

“Yes,” he nodded automatically, willing to comply to her every whim, “Yes. We can.”

After being kicked out of the roller rink, again, Rodrick and the rest of the band walked out to the parking lot, reviewing their performance that night.

“You know, I know we’re metal and all, but that was fucking beautiful,” Ben seemed to be teary-eyes.

Rodrick and Sara stepped outside for a moment, as she leaned against the wall in silence, trying to think. Knowing what might comfort her, Rodrick pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, opening it as he offered it to her. Nodding appreciatively at the gesture, Sara took one and held it in her mouth as he lit it for her.

“I’m sorry,” Rodrick blurted out finally, a pained but far away expression on his face, “I, uh… I didn’t know how else to show you I meant what I said. That I really, really like you.

“It’s okay,” Sara sighed, just hoping to move on from the issue, “I understand. Really. We all backtrack. I’m over it.”

“No, really. I don’t want you to think I made a scene just to distract from the way I acted,” he said slowly. “I really meant what I said—”

“Rodrick,” she said, eyes wide open, “It’s fine. It’s done. I’m over it.”

“No, I owe you an explanation,” he sighed, “I… I’ve just never had a real girlfriend before…”

“Dude, this isn’t exactly breaking news,” she looked at him with dead eyes.

“Okay, can you just not be a total fucking asshole for like one second?” Rodrick demanded with laughter.

“Okay, fine,” she threw her hands up in surrender, “I’m listening.”

The look on her face was less than convincing.

“You’re a bitch,” Rodrick laughed, no longer able to take himself seriously, “You’re a fucking bitch,” he pointed at her, his finger less than an inch from her face.

“Oh yeah?” she teased with a light chuckle, cigarette butt dropped to the ground and forgotten.

“Yeah.”

He stood in front of her, trying to remain serious as he leaned against the wall, his hand resting just above her head.

“You’re a fucking bitch,” he repeated playfully, trying to perfect his more serious demeanor.

“Am I a bitch, or are you just a little bitch?” Sara proposed, intentionally provoking him.

“No. You’re just a bitch,” he promised her.

Neither were sure exactly how it happened, but as he got in her face and challenged her, he attempted to jokingly pin her to the wall. At first, this entailed his arm resting on her chest, but then suddenly turned into something else entirely.

Rodrick didn’t intend it at all, but suddenly, the both of them found his hand slipped as he held her by the throat, still grinning.

“You’re such a fucking bitch,” he told her, before coming to and realizing that he was actually choking her.

First, his eyes fluttered as he realized the mistake he’d made, but once he saw he’d reaction, he felt himself giving into it.

“Fuck,” he moaned out loud, his finger pads pressing on her pressure points harder.

She softly sighed in excitement, the contact with the pressure points heightening the experience even more. Rodrick looked at her with pleading eyes as he choked her, admiring her gratuitously.

He leaned in to kiss her, groaning into her mouth as he pressed her against the wall with his large hand wrapped around her neck. She reacted by pulling him in by the collar, making him feel something even more euphoric. She deepens the kiss, tongue slipping into his mouth as he slowly moved his leg up her body, not stopping until his knee trailed down to her center.

For just a moment, he stopped kissing Sara, huffing softly into the warm skin of her neck.

“Is it bad that I kinda wanna see you fuck my knee right now?” he wondered.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “And it’s hot.”

He chuckled happily as he sucked on her neck, roughly biting and sucking. He pushed his knee against her, practically fucking her with it against the wall behind the roller rink. She quietly groaned in frustration as she tried to align herself perfectly on his knee.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he gasped, eyes closed as he kissed all over her neck. “I hope you know you could ask me for anything. I’d do anything for you, or to you.”

“You’re so sexy,” Sara whined.

“I’m serious. If you wanted me to, I’d eat it from the back, and enjoy it,” he said completely deadpan. “All I wanna do is take you home and lay you down and make you come any way I know how.”

“We should probably stop this,” Sara thought intuitively, “Before this wall ends up pregnant.”

“I can’t control myself when I’m around you. And not cuz I think you’re hot,” Rodrick stated. “Honestly. I just see you and I wanna give you everything.”

“You already have,” she confessed, never having seen anyone so willing to risk things for her.

-

A/N: not sure if this is good, wrote it after doing a line

-

#rodrick heffley #rodrick rules #rodrick x reader #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley x y/n #rodrick x y/n #diary of a wimpy kid rodrick #diary of a wimpy kid #doawk rodrick #doawk #rodrick smut #rodrick heffley smut

[assortedvillainvault]

Me, sending Thalassa another ask after a long tumblr absence? It's more likely than you think ;)

My request this time is more Shen x Reader...but through the Henchwolves' POV

Gimme that minion gossip 😆

It's benn a Goddamn Minute since I wrote anything for the murderbird, please accept this humble offering my friend! This is set loosely within Shen's hostile takeover of his family's palace, just pretend it's taking a few months longer for Po and the Furious Five to arrive.

Lord Shen x Reader (Henchwolves POV)

Sooo...the boss’s in looovvveee…

Ok well it’s more like Shen is speed-cycling through every emotion under the sun, like some kind of cursed knife throwing merry-go-round.

From an outside perspective that part is no different to how he normally is, really, potato tomato.

But ever since YOU entered the picture, he’s been swinging between regality and rage like it’s going out of fashion.

This would normally be time for the wolves to about-face and shamelessly hide behind the hired muscle of the rhino and gorilla guards, but between your bemused reactions and the Soothsayers amused snorts they have front row seats to China’s cheesiest love story and they’re not missing ANY of the drama.

Don’t forget, the wolves have followed Shen for nearly two decades by now – they know him. His ins and outs, his twitches and grandiose gestures. The way his right eyelid twitches when he can’t feel the knives in his sleeves.

They’re not familiar with the way his elegant steps stumble when you surprise him. Or how he loses his train of thought and sputters when you question his judgement. Or how he seems to fight the noble training of several years to fidget with his robes before posing just so to meet with you.

Guards from both the throne room and the gardens noticed his tail sweeping and twitching when talking to you, and in their experience, Shen’s tail is a dead giveaway for his flintstrike temper and at the time they were 99% certain he was about to stick a knife in your back and call it a day…

...until he presented you with a custom ordered gift and his overwrought nerves had his tail nearly leap into it’s classic fan as he awkwardly swallowed a squawk into a cough, trying to pretend this was a spur of the moment thing rather something he'd agonized over in private for five days.

At guard change they all but barged into the guardroom mess, hollering and sniggering.

“Shen’s PRESENTING!”

Chaos ensues. Bets are taken, at least one table is broken. One poor bastard ends up tossed from a fifth story window. He's probably fine.

It’s all boss wolf can do not to roll his eyes.

In contrast to the rest of the henchman – he operates much closer to Shen in a day to day capacity. So HE’s the poor bugger having to endure Shen’s erratic mumbling as the neurotic bird pores over battle plans, supply chains, letters and negotiations from nobility and powerful individuals to bribe. All that, he can deal with.

...What he can’t deal with is the way Shen’s eyes will glaze over mid mumble and suddenly he’s got an earful of spoiled royal lamenting how 50 reams of china’s finest silks isn’t even close enough to a satisfactory nest and How is he supposed to curry your favour if you only have 25 colours to choose from???

Fucking. BIRDS and their obsession with shiny shit.

Meanwhile, the Soothsayer is very much enjoying watching Shen work himself into a knot over whether or not he should ask her for a love life prediction.

It’s just a waiting game before he cracks. And she’s more than happy to trip him up and poke fun in the meantime, catching your eye from the background and winking as she eats his sashes and pulls fake prophesies out of her ass.

(She approves of you, don’t worry, and she lowkey is happy for Shen to have found someone as wonderful as you, but also: you deserve better and her lingering fondness for Shen as his former nanny doesn’t blind her to that.)

Hope you enjoyed these headcannons friend!

#thalassa responds #lord shen #kfp lord shen #shen x reader #x reader #Shen is probably my favourite of the kfp villains #I'm just never sure if I can get the balance of 'capable visionary who is a legitimate threat' #and 'overwrought hairtrigger bundle of spite given form' #and 'accidentally hilarious sassmaster' together in the right amount

[george-weasleys-girl]

Would you be able to write one with reader defending George to her friends and soft boi overhears and practically melts. If you would be so kind.

Low-key got excited that you did you might start writing for Fred as well as I'm a slut for both twins :) (Most definitely George thou but Fred kinda close second 😉)

I love this! Thank you for requesting it, anon. I hope you enjoy it!

Wonderful You

Warnings: cursing, depression

~•~

There are some days that just lay on you like a stone. Today was one of those days for George. Nothing in particular caused it. It was just something that happened to him from time to time, and he didn't know why.

George pushed the covers off, already exhausted. It was as if his body was made of lead. He could barely lift his head from the pillow, and it ached, no... hurt, to pull himself out of bed. To get dressed. To put one foot in front of the other. But it would hurt more without you by his side. So, he did all of it and made his way downstairs.

It was Thursday, which meant you were already up for your volunteer shift at the library. He'd get there just in time for your shift to end. Then you could go cuddle for hours on end, as the two of you always did when he was having one of his black days.

~•~

He could hear voices outside the library before he rounded the corner.

"I just don't understand what you see in him," one said. "I mean, he's cute, I'll give you that. But he's such an annoying prat."

It didn't occur to George that they were talking about him until he heard his girlfriend's voice.

"Well, it's a good thing he's my boyfriend and not yours," Y/N snapped.

"Look, Y/N were not trying upset you," said another voice. "We just think you could, you know, do so much better."

George peeked around the corner to see Y/N standing with her arms crossed, facing two of her Ravenclaw friends, Abby and Lydia.

"Excuse me," Y/N retorted. "But, you don't know a damn thing about him or our relationship."

"I know enough to know the only thing he cares about are his precious pranks and ridiculous inventions. He'll never amount to anything. Even his own mother knows that." Lydia said.

George slunk back into the shadows, sinking down on the nearby bench, head in his hands. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but it refused to budge. What if Lydia was right? What if his mum was right? What if he was nothing more than a series of disappointments?

What if?

What if?

What if?

What if he didn't deserve someone as wonderful as Y/N? What if he'd only bring her down?

He was seconds away from shuffling back upstairs and burying himself in bed when Y/N's voice stopped him in his tracks. George turned and peeked around the corner again.

"As I said," Y/N's voice was steady, but there was an edge to it that hinted at the rage seething just beneath her skin. "You don't know a damn thing about him. You only see what you want to see. So, until you get off your high horse and make an effort to get to know the most amazing, sweet, brilliant human being to ever come into my life, I suggest you shut the fuck up."

Abby snorted. "I'm sorry Y/N but, brilliant? Brilliant? Really? He can barely be bothered to do his schoolwork. I shudder to think of his grades."

George watched in awe as his barely five foot girlfriend rounded on the very tall, wide-eyed Abby and backed her against the wall.

"You should have stopped at 'I'm sorry,' she said. "But, that's ok, because now I know who you really are. An arrogant, elitist snob. George is more intelligent than ten of you. He actually knows how to use his brain instead of just parroting back facts."

"But..." Abby started.

"Nope." Y/N cut her off. "I don't want to hear anything else you have to say. You've lost the privilege to talk to me."

Abby looked like she might cry. Y/N didn't care. She whirled around and ran smack into Lydia.

"The same goes for you." Y/N tried to go around the girl, but Lydia stepped in front of her.

"Please, Y/N, don't be like this," she pled. "I know we came off a bit gruff, but it's only because we care. We don't want to see you--" Lydia's words trailed off.

"What?" Y/N asked, stepping closer. "You don't want to see me what?"

"Well, it's just, you have so much potential and we just don't want to see it wasted on a--"

"A Weasley? Is that what you're saying?" Y/N was now almost nose to nose with Lydia, who stumbled, trying to back away from the irate witch.

"Let me tell you something, both of you," Y/N began. "I'm am the luckiest girl in the world because George Weasley loves me. And I'm doubly lucky because his family loves me too. And I ever catch wind of either of you saying one word against George or his family again, I will hex you with so many spells it'll take decades to untangle them all."

Y/N bent down to pick up her cloak, which had slipped off her shoulders and onto the floor. "Stay away from me," she warned her ex-friends. "And away from George." Then she turned and stomped away.

~•~

Y/N was so furious that she didn't even notice George when she rounded the corner. A yelp escaped her lips before she realized it was her boyfriend who'd grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into a bone-crushing hug.

"Oh hi, sweetie!" Y/N gasped, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I love you so much, Y/N," he mummered into her ear. "How are you even real? How are you even mine?"

Y/N heard the tremor in his voice and pushed back a little so she could see his face. "Georgie, have you been crying?" The question was rhetorical, of course, because his bloodshot, red-rimmed eyes gave him away.

"Uh, maybe a little."

A little, my ass. "Did you hear any of that conversation?"

George nodded, releasing his hold on her to wipe his eyes.

Dammit. "Now, you listen to me, George. Don't you dare believe one word they said. They're stuck-up idiots who don't deserve a second thought. Ok?"

George nodded again. "Will you marry me?" The question came completely out of the blue. "I know we're only seventeen, and we still have to finish school, and I don't have ring, and--"

Y/N silenced him with a kiss. "Yes," she said, eyes sparkling even in the dim light. "A thousand times, yes! But let's graduate first, ok," she added with a smile.

George nodded and gathered her up into another bear hug. "I love you, and I promise I'll take care of you and never disappoint--"

"Georgie, sweetheart," she gently interrupted. "Are you sure you're ok?"

"No," he whispered. "But I will be."

Y/N looked at him, really looked at him, and it hit her.

"Oh lovey," she said. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I am--I was," he stammered. "I came down to find you, but I heard those things being said about me, and it hurt. I started to think that maybe they were true and I almost left. But, then you said all those wonderful things, and you made me feel like the most special person in the world."

Y/N smiled up at him. "That's because you are the most special person in the world. And, to me, you always will be."

A smile spread across George's face for the first time since he woke up. "Just when I think I can't love you anymore than I already do." He leaned down and kissed her gently, their foreheads resting together even after they pulled away.

"Now, how about we grab some breakfast and go find a quiet place to snuggle the day away?" Y/N asked.

"Yes, please." George smiled sheepishly. "As long as you don't have anything more important to do."

"There is nothing and no one more important than you, my sweet Georgie."

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x you #george weasley angst #george weasley fluff

[necromaniackat]

Cruel Summer

Chapter 12: The Great British Horror Show

Word Count: 2.3k

Cw/tw: heavy voyeurism, p in v, praise!kink, incest, military!kink, uniform!kink, size!kink, belly bulge, breeding!kink, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), mommy!kink/daddy!kink implied, sub!Brahms, sub!reader, dom!oc

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Brahms seethed with rage; hands balled up into tight fists and face red with anger. It wasn’t fair. He was supposed to be the one to pull those delicious sounds from you as the scent of sweat and sex hung heavy in the hot summer night air. But there you were, folded in half with your knees touching your shoulders. Felix’s large hands pinning you down by your knees as he slammed himself into you over and over; earning the sweet moans and gasps and cries that were coming from you.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t look away. Brahms was addicted to you in every sense of the word. You were his first thought in the morning and last thought at night. Even when he was mad at you for breaking his rules, he couldn’t get enough of you. Always close behind. Always observing. One day he will show himself to you – you deserved to know of his presence. Even though you already knew he was there; he was just a ghost in a lonely mansion with only his niece to keep him company.

His niece. You were his niece. You were blood.

The mere thought of you being his niece excited him. His mother would never allow him to date anyone; even now that she’s gone. He didn’t want just anyone. He thought he wanted Greta, he really did. But when you stepped foot in Heelshire mansion five days ago, Brahms knew that you were the one he’d been waiting for. You were perfect. And to find out you were his long lost Evie; his heart couldn’t take it. He’d essentially moulded himself a place in your life from a young age. So maybe showing himself to you wouldn’t be that much of a shock because you already knew he was there.

Brahms’ icy gaze couldn’t be pried from the scene unfolding in front of him as he peered through the peephole. He couldn’t believe how bendy and durable you were. Felix was in no way small, or even average. No, he sported a long girthy dick that stretched you in ways Charlie could only dream of. You were taking Felix’s cock like a champ. And judging by the cock drunk expression that read pure untainted ecstasy and bliss that flushed your usually pale face, you loved every moment his cock was inside you.

Jealousy coursed through Brahms’ veins – he so desperately wanted to be the one mounted on top of you, pumping his own cock in and out of your gushing cunt like a man possessed. He laid claim to you the moment you stepped foot in the mansion five days ago. Felix is just a pest that needed to be gotten rid of.

“Mine,” Brahms hissed through gritted teeth as he watched you get plowed on his recently deceased parents’ bed. If that didn’t stir up so emotions for Brahms then nothing would faze him.

“That’s right, take this cock like a good girl,” Felix purred in your ear but loud enough Brahms could hear it from across the room. His brows furrowed in confusion; why did Felix just call you a good girl? He wasn’t wrong but Brahms had never heard someone say that during sex. Then again the only people he’s seen have sex were his parents a couple of times. Brahms learned real quick not to invade their bedroom.

Brahms’ jaw dropped when in return for calling you a good girl you let out a long, shaky moan. He took note that you liked that. He also took note of how your body reacted to every movement and purr of encouragement.

God you looked beautiful. You looked like an angel in his eyes. You always have. Which was why he nicknamed you Eve when you were little. Brahms had a lot of time to read; his mother suggested he read the Bible. Brahms plowed through the book in a week. That’s why he nicknamed you Eve. You were so pure and delicate. Even now, as you were getting railed in your dead grandparents‘ bed, Brahms thought you looked so pure and innocent.

Your dark hair was sprawled across the bed wildly. Your porcelain skin almost glowed in the dim light of the nightstand lamp. Besides the moth tattoo on your lower back, not a mark could be found on you. Your breasts bounced with every thrust as you clung onto Felix’s arms for dear life. Your knees were pinned against your shoulders, opening you up for his assault. The expression on your flushed face told him you had little to no brain function; you were cock drunk.

‘I should be the one to make her like this. It should be me,’ Brahms bitterly thought. His anger turned to rage. His entire body felt like it was set ablaze. Brahms couldn’t stop himself from raising his fists and slamming them against the wall as hard as he could without breaking the wall, causing a loud bang to sound through the house.

The choir of moans and praises, as well as the sound of skin slapping stopped. Brahms felt ice run through his veins when he realized what he’d done. He lowered his head in defeat, listening closely.

“What was that?” Felix’s voice broke the silence.

“Don’t know, don’t care. Keep going,” you ordered breathlessly. With that, Brahms lifted his head in disbelief and peered through the hole once again. No, he couldn’t have just heard you say that. You knew Brahms was there and you choose to ignore him? No one’s ever dared do that before. He couldn’t believe it.

Without a second thought, you and Felix went back to it. Brahms could only stare in awe. He didn’t know what else to do. He’s made himself known to you and you voted against his protest with that knowing. Only one person’s ever done that; Haydn. During one of your visits with your grandparents your dad figured out that Brahms was still lurking in the mansion as a spirit. But one day when you were two your dad cut Brahms’ music time short because you were getting fussy and tired. Brahms retaliated not letting your dad sleep that night.

But there you were, defying his rules and protests. Brahms was furious as he plotted revenge.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t pry his eyes away from the scene unfolding in front of him. You and Felix had swapped positions; you were now on top, bouncing on his cock like a pro.

Mindlessly, Brahms’ hand snaked down the wall to the hem of his trousers. Fingers dancing over the hem until they unfastened the button effortlessly. He dragged the zipper down to the end of its track before fishing into his trousers – freeing his erect cock. Brahms shivered at the contact despite his skin feeling like it was on fire. A quivering whimper escaped his lips as he began to stroke his shaft.

Not once did Brahms’ gaze waiver from you. You looked so determined but at the same time so cock drunk. You appeared to be barely conscious as you rode Felix. Brahms tried to keep in time with you as you bounced and rode him – imagining it was him who was under you getting the best fuck of his life.

Brahms’ hand worked his shaft as his imagination ran wild with aid from the scene in front of him. His heart felt like it was about to explode out of his chest as a wonderful electric sensation radiated from his crotch.

“Fuck, Ev. Good girl,” Felix moaned unevenly with his hands on your hips, guiding you up and down his length. His words pulled a high pitch moan from you. Your beautiful blue eyes rolled in pleasure; sometimes crisscrossing.

“Good girl,” Brahms repeated in a raspy whisper.

Then something caught his eye. He couldn’t help but notice the disappearing and reappearing bulge in your lower stomach. Brahms examined it closely, trying to figure out what it was. He’s never seen you with a bump in your lower belly that magically disappears and reappears.

That’s when it struck him; he knew what that bulge was. It was Felix’s cock inside you. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He’s never seen such a provocative sight in his life; he swore his soul left his body for a moment and he got to experience pure, unaltered heavenly bliss for a fraction of a second.

Brahms’ hip stuttered into his fist as a shaky moan passed his lips. His eyes fluttered as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through his body; radiating from his groin. Brahms was roughly the same size, maybe a little more girthy, as Felix which meant that when Brahms has you on top of him he’ll be able to see his own cock poke through your belly.

His hips stuttered again at the thought; his grip tightening slightly and his hand working his shaft in time with your thrusts. In his doped out mind he believed he was actually fucking you. His steel blue eyes never leaving your form.

“I’m gonna cum,” you declared between pants. Brahms staggered back a bit in awe. He knew boys climaxed but he didn’t know girls could too. Why didn’t his dad tell him this when they had the puberty talk? His dad told him that in order to make a baby or just wants to get off, a guy needs to orgasm; said absolutely nothing about women being able to orgasm too.

After a split second to recover, Brahms was back to peeking through the five pence sized hole.

You were still rhythmically riding him; your moans came out as high pitch squeals. Felix had his hands on your hips, guiding you up and down and singing you praises such as:

“You’re such a good girl.”

“Such a good little cum slut.”

“Be a good girl and cum on daddy’s cock. I know you want to.”

Brahms studied what got you off; he noticed you liked to be called nice names, and mean names as well. You wanted roughness to complement your sweetness. You were quite the paradox. Unlike Greta or any of the other nannies before you. You were very vocal about your wants and needs, and desires. He’s never met someone quite like you before. You puzzled him greatly.

“I’m cumming!” You cried before a loud squeal passed your lips; followed by a slurry of curses. You lifted yourself off of Felix as you gushed all over his lower half. Felix’s hand left your twitching hip to rub your cunt as the clear fluid gushed out of you.

Brahms’ eyes were wide as he watched you. He just learned that woman can orgasm too and now he’s getting to see it in person. You made him want you even more now. He wanted you to squirt all over him as you came.

Brahms’ eyes rolled mindlessly as his own climax began to creep up on him. His hand went even faster; pumping his cock at a mind dizzying pace. He heard you instruct Felix to put it back in – it was followed by sloshing sound. His eyes snapped onto your form once again.

You had switched positions once again. This time you were laying on your front, facing Brahms’ direction. Your legs were closed and Felix was straddling your ass; thrusting his hips into yours.

Brahms watched as Felix reached down and wrapped his hand in your hair – pulling by the base of your hair. You were forced to look directly at Brahms; or at least that’s what he believed. You hazy blue eyes stared in his direction – he felt like you could see him instead of a blank space on the wall.

“Fill me with your cum.” Your voice came out in a high pitched, breathless way. Brahms’ heart palpitated and his hips jerked and twitched into his hand. He had to look away from you so he could keep it together – he didn’t want to orgasm yet. He wanted to relish in the sight of you getting fucked from behind.

You were barely conscious; not in the least bit coherent. Blush gathered in your cheeks, dusting them a dusty rose colour. Your swollen red lips were parted slightly as your icy blue eyes were half closed. You were a moaning and squealing mess.

The sounds of sloshing skin hitting skin and the smell of sex hung heavy in the night air. Brahms was finding it hard to focus – his body so desperately craved a release but he wanted to savor this.

The jealousy, the rage, the horniness; it all pulsed through his veins like magma in a volcano. The heat from the day almost felt cool against his ablaze skin. Sweat seeped through his white wife beater as it made many rivers down his body. His breath was fast and shallow – barely getting any oxygen to his hazy brain.

He could feel his climax building; egging him to go faster than he already was. It was creeping up on him quickly. He was so desperate for release – especially after watching you get yours. There were a few things Brahms was; the main thing is needy. Brahms was very needy and greedy. He was a spoiled little boy with a silver spoon in his mouth. He couldn’t get enough of a good thing. And right now you were the centre of his focus. He needed you. He wanted nothing but for you to touch him forever.

Brahms’ mind couldn’t help but wander; imagining how you must feel. Soft. Warm. Wet. You must feel like heaven.

That was the final string holding Brahms back from his climax snapped. His entire body shook violently as thick, white ropes of cum coated his hand and the wall directly in front of him. He had to bite his knuckles to prevent the loud moan from gaining your attention. Brahms didn’t even notice that Felix was currently filling you with his cum as he reached his orgasm.

Brahms’ mind completely blacked out. It was overrun with chemicals that sent him into a tizzy. Brahms’ body went limp; plummeting him to the floor between the walls with a loud thump.

“What was that?”

#brahms x reader #brahms the boy #brahms the doll #brahms heelsire x reader #brahms x you #brahms x y/n #brahms heelshire #slasher fanfiction #slasher x reader #slasher community #slash fanfiction #slasher fucker #slasher smut #slashers #writing #horror #wattpad #fanfiction #writer #fanfic #writers #my writing #fan fiction #smut

[amhrosina]

I'm With You (Always) - Frank Castle x Reader

MASTERLIST // JOIN MY TAGLIST

A/N: This one ended up being a tad shorter than most of my other fics, but I felt like it told the story I was trying to tell. I didn’t want to drag it out if it wasn’t necessary. I hope you enjoy! Thanks for requesting, nonnie! <3

Request: Omg your fics always HIT 🫶🏻💀 I feel like there’s a bunch of fics of Frank comforting the reader, but none really of the opposite. Could you do something like that? I mean mans been through the mf WRINGER

Summary: On the 5th anniversary of Maria’s death, Frank grapples with the guilt of loving someone else (i.e., you) for the first time since her death.

(Warnings: it’s angsty as hell (sorry not sorry), cursing, frank is way too hard on himself, frank castle needs a hug!, reader comforts frank, all im asking marvel is for them to make him happy!!!!!!, references to what happened to Maria and the kids) 

Frank knew he should call you. It was the least he could do, considering the shit you’ve put up with for the past ten months. He’d put you through hell, showing up on your doorstep at all hours of the night, bleeding and in serious need of medical attention. It was something you handled with grace, even though he was undeserving of your gentle nature.  

He was a moody, cut-throat bastard, and you both knew it. He was emotionally withdrawn, irritable, and had very little trust left in him to give. But you never minded, and he spent most of his time with you perplexed at your ability to forgive and forget so easily.  

His phone buzzed on the coffee table, and he knew it was you calling without having to look. You had called him this morning, too, and left a short voice message about how you’d be free this evening, if he wanted to see you. The serene warmth in your voice had caused his chest to ache, an all too familiar feeling when it came to you.  

Of course, he wanted to see you. He always did, even when he was being the angry bastard version of himself that he hated so much. Your tone, so doubtful and hesitant, fueled a heavy rage in Frank’s heart, and he cursed himself for being the cause of it. He should fucking answer the phone.  

He watched as the screen faded to black. He hadn’t moved from his unrelaxed position on the floor, and he’d just ignored you, again. He shoved his face into his palms, running his fingers through his hair and tugging it in a motion fueled completely by anger. Anger wasn’t foreign to Frank – he'd had his fair share of things to be angry at – but this type of anger, the one caused completely by his own actions, was new to him.  

You didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve you, and he was actively fucking it up more as the night went on. Despair weighed heavy on his heart, and he wanted so badly to explain it to you – beg you for your forgiveness and apologize for being a broken man who still loved his wife, even years after her death. But the date on the calendar had paralyzed him, and he hadn’t moved from his hunched position in eight long hours. 

Five years. It had been five years since his family had been taken from him, and he was still just as broken as he was the day it happened. You knew, of course, that his family had been murdered in cold blood, right in front of him, but he’d never told you the details, and you never asked. You had no idea that today would push Frank beyond his boundaries, like it did every year, completely shutting down his ability to function. 

Frank used to let the rage consume him, let it burn through him until all he could see was red, but he had personally killed every fucker involved in the plot to murder his family, and once that rage had sputtered out, he was left with nothing but a massive, aching hole in his chest. 

This year felt a little different, if he really thought about it. The patch you’d begun mending in his heart was present, a gentle reminder that someone, somewhere cared for him deeply. But as hard as he tried to pick up the phone and call you, he couldn’t find it within himself to do it. Every time his thoughts drifted, and he ended up thinking about you, a pang of betrayal would wind its way through his chest until he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Would Maria be okay with this? Would she like you? Would the kids? It all felt very surreal to Frank, so he did what every other jarhead had been trained to do and shut it all down until the numbness finally overpowered the ache.  

His phone flashed with a notification, and he glanced over, expecting it to be a text from you, angry and done with whatever this thing was between the two of you, but it wasn’t. Of course, it wasn’t. It was you, and your kindness would always win when pinned against your anger. It was a simple message, one that Frank couldn’t figure out how to feel about.  

‘I’m coming over, and I’m bringing you dinner. I won’t stay, unless you want me to.’ 

Clearly you were aware something was going on with him, and his heart ached at the thought of you worriedly walking through Hell’s Kitchen to come to his aid. He thought about leaving, going out and walking around until he was sure you wouldn’t be here when he got back. You shouldn’t see him like this, so beaten down by life that he could barely move. He could text you, tell you to turn around and go home. Maybe you’d be so put off by his rude behavior that you would turn around without a second thought. 

Frank didn’t do any of those things though. Maybe he needed a lot of things, or maybe he didn’t, he didn’t know, but more than anything, he knew he needed love, and he would be a fool to turn down what you were trying so hard to offer him. He slowly picked up his phone and typed out a short response. 

‘Okay.’ 

- 

You stared at the door for three long minutes before you finally reached forward and knocked. The adrenaline that had been coursing through your veins earlier had caused you to rush into this plan, and now you were second guessing the bold text you’d sent Frank. Was it too much? Too harsh for him on a day when he deserved the utmost softness?  

His rapid response had fueled your hurried haze, and you had picked up your already-brisk pace, only stopping to rethink your plan when you arrived on his doorstep. You could take the coward’s way out – leave the bag of takeout food on his front steps and bolt before he opened the door – but something about that felt inherently wrong. 

The squeal of the floorboards on the other side of the door sounded, a precaution Frank had purposely installed to make him aware of anybody entering his home, and you tightened your grip on the bag. You didn’t know which Frank would be on the other side of the door, but you were determined to at least give him something to eat. 

The door swung open, revealing an incredibly disheveled looking Frank. The red sting of his eyes was immediately noticeable, and your heart broke looking at him. You wanted to hug him, kiss him, anything to remind him that you loved him, but you didn’t know how he’d react to physical affection on a day like this. A day of mourning, of loss, of immense and immeasurable grief.  

He glanced down at the food in your hands, and you stiffened at the thought of him taking the food and shutting the door in your face. You had given him that option, but the last thing you wanted to do was abandon Frank on the rare occasion when he needed someone else to lean on.  

“Hi.” You mumbled, raising your hand in an awkward wave. “I brought you food.”  

“Hi. Thank you.” His voice was a hoarse whisper, and your heart broke just a little bit more hearing the sorrow in it. He opened the door wider. An invitation beckoning you to come inside.  

You stepped through the doorway, awkwardly shuffling your feet as Frank closed the door and deadbolted it behind you. No one said anything for a moment. You didn’t know how to comfort this level of grief, but you’d always been taught to make yourself present in a grieving person’s life, so you ignored the awkward silence and tried to act like this was a normal interaction between you and Frank.  

“Have you eaten?” You asked, lifting the bag of food for emphasis.  

Frank shook his head. You turned, setting off towards the kitchen to unload the food. You’d gone a little overboard, probably, but you didn’t know what type of food he would want, so you got a little bit of everything. When Frank saw the spread of cuisines you had laid out on the counter, his eyes widened.  

“Did you stop at every restaurant in Hell’s Kitchen?” He raised an eyebrow at you, and you quickly turned away, unsure if you should feel ashamed under his gaze.  

“It’s,” you paused, trying to figure out what to say, “comfort food. I just didn’t know which kind was your comfort.” You shrugged, looking over the array of food in front of you. 

He shifted beside you, and you suddenly became aware of his hand on the small of your back. He pressed a long kiss against your temple and grabbed the box of Thai food closest to him. His affection eased some of the tension in your shoulders, and you leaned against the counter with him as he dug into his food.  

“Should I... I mean do you want me to...” your question trailed off as you motioned towards the door. 

He glanced between the door and your hand, still hung in the air in an awkward pointing position, and shook his head.  

“Stay.” He murmured, and added, after a pause, “Please.” 

Frank Castle didn’t beg, but you could’ve sworn that it sounded like he was pleading with you. Stay. Don’t go. Don’t leave me alone with my demons. You nodded and began to put the extra food in his refrigerator as he devoured his meal.  

The silence between the two of you was no longer awkward, now that Frank had made it clear that he wanted you to be here. As you finished organizing the contents of his fridge, he moved across the kitchen, grasping your hand between his and fiddling with your fingers. 

“How did you know?” He asked, eyes cast downward where your hands met.  

“About today?” You leaned into his hold, pressing your knuckles against his hard abdomen. He nodded, the only response he could give you at the moment. 

“I had a funny feeling when I woke up this morning, and then I hadn’t heard from you all day, so when Karen asked me how you were holding up, I sort of put the pieces together myself. I’m sorry if I overstepped.” 

He shook his head, bringing the tips of your fingers to his lips.  

“I don’t know what to say.” He murmured against your fingertips. You reached forward, cupping his cheek with your free hand.  

“You don’t have to say anything, Frank. I’m with you no matter what, okay? Whatever that means for you.” 

He nodded and leaned into your palm, closing his eyes.  

“I will always love Maria.” He mumbled, tears threatening to spill behind his closed eyelids. “But I love you, too. And, after Maria, I didn’t know I was still capable of that until I met you. Is that enough for you? To share me with someone who’s de-,” He stumbled over the word, clearing his throat, “Who’s dead?”  

You’d never heard Frank speak so plainly about Maria before, and the ache cascading from him was a palpable feeling. You held back your tears as you pressed your other hand to his face.  

“Frank, she was your wife, and she was taken from you. Of course, you still love her. I wouldn’t expect anything different.” You pressed your forehead against his, fully leaning into his warmth. “You’re always enough.” 

Your final statement had Frank collapsing against you, pulling you into a tight hug. His body shook with sobs against yours, and you clung to him like you would a life raft in the middle of the ocean.  

“I love you.” His voice was a muffled whisper against your shoulder. You lightly ran your fingers along the nape of his neck. 

“I love you too, Frankie.”  

“Thank you for coming over, baby.” 

“I’ll always come for you, Frank.”  

It was a promise you knew you would never break, and you’d spend your life proving it to him if need be. Frank would always be hurting, even in the good moments, and you were determined to show him a love deeply enough to help remind him during those times that he was cared about and loved, flaws and all.  

Tag List:

@xleiaorgana @mukbee @dilfs5678 @kokoterainonago666 @blackwidownat2814 @mymamalife @minervadashwood @emiemiemiii @h4rrys @messymissy @mylifeispainandiloveit @mossexe @fightmilk @spikedhe4rt @fictional-hooman @merleisapartygod @babyslyth @legocity2 @quackson03 @certifiedhunter @deliciousfestsalad @alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @lilyevans1 @imagineadream @22carolina08

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle imagine #frank castle fluff #frank castle angst #frank castle x y/n #the punisher #the punisher x you #the punisher x reader #the punisher imagine #the punisher fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #marvel #jon bernthal #frank castle needs a hug #requested #amhrosina

[sungievrse]

so.

a poc reader who takes one of the skz members back to their home country, but they get one of their insecurities pointed out by someone there? like being thin, or thick, or dark or light? how would skz defend their s/o??

gn reader please 😭🙏🙏

as a person of color, i approve. since you didn’t specify which member, i’ll write for hyung line. i’m used to writing for male reader, but i’ll try my best, tell me if i slip up okay? tysm for the req!

sexual innuendos below cut!

hyung line:

bang chan:

this man is the best thing that has ever happened to you. he’s so patient and kind, and it’s no surprise that you want to take him back to your home country and show him how you grew up. you had forgotten how judgmental the people of your country were, however. you shriveled under their gazes as they scrunched their noses at your dark skin. a man rode by on a motorbike, yelling out an insult in your native language. you stopped in midst of your walk, feeling tears well up in your eyes. “hey, hey, what’s wrong?” chan asked. you wiped away a tear. “i’m just too dark, i guess.” chan frowned. “nonsense.” he kissed your cheeks. “you’re so beautiful, (name). i hate that you feel this way.” you shrugged. “i’m just not beautiful enough.” “you are more than enough.” he caressed your cheeks. “you’re everything and more than i could ever ask for, and i never want you to forget it. okay?” “okay, channie. i love you.” he smiled. “i love you too, baby. let’s get you home.”

lee minho:

minho believes that you are too beautiful for this world. in his eyes, society really didn’t deserve you. unfortunately, the people of your country didn’t think so. the minute you two had stepped off the plane, you both had received judgmental gazes from the left and the right. and now, the person working at the front desk of your hotel had given you the most disgusted look, and you were currently lying on the bed in your room, not even trying to conceal your sobs. minho felt his heart twist in rage. how dare that lady look at you like that! heck, he didn’t even know why she looked at you like that. he tiptoed over to you, and stroked your head. “aw, honey.” “i don’t get it, min!” you sobbed. “i didn’t get it five years ago, and i don’t get it now!” as much as it pained minho, he was so confused. “get what?” he asked sheepishly. you looked up at him with teary eyes and a runny nose. “i’m so fat.” you grabbed your tummy angrily, showing him the rolls of your skin. “oh, jagi. you’re not fat.” “yes, i am!” you exclaimed, frustrated. “no, you’re not.” he soothed. “and even if you are, so what? i don’t care. i love the way your tummy rolls when we fuck. it’s so cute.” your mouth fell open in shock. “lee minho!” you gently slapped his arm. but it was worth it when you let out soft peals of giggles. “there’s my baby.” he grinned at you, pinching your tummy. “ahh~ so adorable~”

seo changbin:

the way you hid your body behind his bigger one did not go unnoticed by changbin. he turned, confused, when your tiny hands gripped his bulging muscles as if they were your life support. “bunny? are you okay?” he placed his hands on your shoulders, gently squeezing them. you dragged your eyes up to meet his, shuffling your feet sheepishly. “i-i… it’s stupid.” he shook his head. “bunny, how many times have i told you?” he reprimanded softly. “your feelings are not stupid.” you smiled up at him through watery eyes, sniffling a bit, before starting. “well…” “well?” he prompted, running his hands up and down your sides. “don’t you ever get tired of not having any ass to grab?”

whatever changbin expected, it was not this. “uh— what?” you looked down, nervously twisting your fingers together. “i-i just… i came here, with you, right?” “right…” he said, unsure where this was going. “and— and all the people in my country have big butts and they’re so curvy and they’re a lot thicker than me, and… i just…” “no, baby.” he kissed your lips gently. “oh, bunny. is this what’s got you all sad and insecure?” “…yeah.” you frowned. “i know it’s stupid—.” “your feelings are not stupid.” he interrupted. “bunny, i love you. i would love you if you were thick or thin. i would love you if you were black or white or green or red—.” he was interrupted by small giggles from you. “and i love the way your so small. fit so well under me, yeah? want me to show you how much i love you?” “yes, please.” you said cheekily, pursing your lips for a kiss.

hwang hyunjin:

now, even though hyunjin was the sweetest, you had your fair share of insecurities about being with him. mainly, the people of your country whispering about how he was so much prettier than you. before when you had left your country for korea, you had been the prettiest, most beautiful person where you lived. and now, with hyunjin coming to visit… you loved him! you truly did! but with people completely ignoring you in favor of him, it really made you feel things that you weren’t used to feeling. you usually felt so sure of yourself, but with this new endeavor, you didn’t really know how to react to the new feelings. it got worse as two girls who used to always talk to you walked past you so they could talk to your boyfriend. you felt anger bubble up in you, then hurt and self-loathing. you watched mournfully as the two girls who used to be your friends talk to hyunjin as he tried to bring you a drink from the stall you two had stopped at. you could tell he was slightly uncomfortable; yet he kept a smile on his face. the man was an idol, after all. as they drew closer, you realized that the girl weren’t just talking to him; they were flirting with him! anger bubbled up once more, but this time you couldn’t control it. you got up from where you were sitting, marched over to your boyfriend and the two home-wreckers, grabbed the back of his neck, and pulled him into a heated kiss. he started, then melted into it, his hand on your waist. you pulled away, then glared at the two girls. “um. excuse us.” they glanced at you, then scampered away like little rats. “were you jealous, babe?” he teased, then panicked as he saw a few tears escape your eyes.

“oh, uh, um, are you, uh, okay?” you lifted your eyes. “hyune, are you ever going to leave me?” “no! i would rather die!” he exclaimed dramatically, waving his arms around and nearly dropping you two’s drinks. “oop- steady, steady.” he said, then smiled down at you. “why the sudden question, babe?” “no reason.” you smiled, strangely comforted by your goofy boyfriend’s antics. “if you say so.” he said, kissing the top of your head. “ooh, i’ve been meaning to try and paint some of these local plants~ babe, go stand by there and pose so i can take a picture to paint later.”

#skz x male reader #stray kids imagines #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #bang chan #stray kids x you #stray kids x male reader #stray kids #lee know #seo changbin #seo changbin x reader #lee minho x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you

[atruththatyoudeny]

Happy28th! Here are all the fics I read and loved this month. I’m probably not saying it enough but all you talented authors in this fandom deserve all the love ♥

Train Tracks and Porcelain | jaerie | [42k] At the first hint of light, Louis was slowly brought back to consciousness by the growing swell of activity around him. It started in the distance with loud clanks and clatters and rose with the hollers of men and thudding of boots against the solid earth. He listened as he blinked the sleep out of his eyes and tried to place any sounds he was familiar with. It took him too long to remember that he wasn’t back in his rented room. The energy was what floated to him next, a buzz that made him peek through the leaves to see what was going on. The next moments happened in the strange slow motion of dawn. Shadows were forming into people and things and, there in the middle of it, Louis watched the humongous head of an elephant emerge from a box car right in front of his eyes. Or a Water For Elephants inspired AU

Gemma's Dad (Could Use A Guy Like Me) | lululawrence | [83k] The summer before Louis and Gemma's senior year of college was supposed to be their last big hurrah before they graduate college and become Real Adults in the workforce. They had it all planned and it was going to be filled with mornings skateboarding, afternoons at the pool, and evenings hanging out with as many of the neighborhood kids they grew up with as they can. Of course, Louis wasn't planning on getting home and learning that Gemma's dad had gotten the house in the divorce and was dealing with things by focusing on work, the house, and his newly planted garden. It becomes obvious early on that Harry is a bit lost and Gemma is worried about him. To help both of them, Louis is more than happy to help Harry find himself again. As the summer goes on, the adventures and day to day happenings allow Harry and Louis to spend a lot more time together than either of them ever anticipated and Louis finds it more difficult to keep his growing feelings in check than he ever thought it would be. After all, there wasn't a chance that Harry would ever be interested in Louis... right?

waving to the hard times | beardyboyzx | [80k] “When you took power, you promised the people equality, freedom from any form of discrimination, and the peace we were severely lacking. Today, once again, you're proving yourself to be a fake, a clown who rose to power just to think about himself.” Louis turns to look at the General once again and finds himself staring at the way his face seems scrunched up in pure and unadulterated rage. “But we — the people, have had enough of you and your barbarity.” Taking a step forward, the person raises his carbine and points it at the balcony. The crowd gasps and Louis takes his gun out of its holder and points it right back at them. “We've had enough. We're not gonna ask you to stop anymore. We're gonna make you.” -- Twenty-five years ago, a group of alpha soldiers led a revolution to dispose of the beta oppressive monarchy. Louis Tomlinson, the General’s alpha nephew, is set to follow in his footsteps and eventually lead the Country. When the arrest of a beta brings a silent resistance group to show themselves and threaten The General, Louis finds himself questioning the government's true nature and the equality of the law, in a quest that will change him for good.

I Want You to Linger | InsightfulInsomniac | [7k] Louis swallows, suddenly feeling very caught out. “Those… those are all for Harry.” “Yes.” Niall nods. “For Harry, who does not live here.” “I know he doesn’t, but I —“ Louis sets down his pen with a grimace. “Look, I’ll keep them in a box in my room, yeah? I just want him to feel comfortable when he’s over.” “Hm,” Niall hums, looking entirely unimpressed. “Mate, I’m not worried about the things themselves. The vase is actually really fucking nice; we look like proper adults with flowers on our coffee table. I’m saying we should talk about you courting Harry.” *** A friends-to-lovers fic in which oblivious alpha Louis courts his best friend, nests with the gifts he gets him, and is faced with the reality that sometimes telling someone you love them doesn’t go to plan (but turns out better in the end anyway).

Teach Me Your Ways | elsi_bee | [34k] Based on the following prompt: Omega Harry is the newly appointed sex ed teacher and uptight Alpha Louis does not approve of his very open methods. A rivalry ensues until Harry unravels him behind closed doors.

Captain Cupid | 2tiedships2 | [15k] “Right,” Niall started, finally getting the opportunity to unleash his horrible plan. “Well, as you both know, I’m an excellent matchmaker. A human Cupid.The best of the best at finding one's mate. And I’ve decided it’s time to make money doing it.” “Oh, God no,” Louis groaned, picking up his empty plate and placing it in the sink. He needed to escape as quickly as possible. Or the one where Niall enlists his friends to help start a speed dating side hustle. Things don't go as planned... or maybe they do?

Burning Soul | LarryAlways28 | [39k] MATE. “What?” He whispered to himself. His boots crunched into the dirt as he stepped out of Greyhound bus. The immediate energy he felt was safe, welcoming contentment. He hadn’t felt that in a long time. He squinted as he looked around the small city nestled in the mountains. Or was it a big town? A nearby green sign read “Seven Corners, Population 101,000” ____ Louis is a rogue Omega wolf, all he wants is a new start. Will he allow himself to fully embrace what awaits him, or will he run again, too damaged by past hurt?

You're Not My Type (still I fall) | Imogenlee | [39k] His mum is going to kill him! Well, not kill him. Just give him a right telling off, make him admit she'd been right, then try to confine him to his room until they found a hefty Alpha to look after him and rein him in or something. She wouldn't manage, of course. Harry is only twenty-four and has no inclination to settle down at all, especially not at the behest of an Alpha. But, as his mum would point out, that was the same stubborn attitude that got him here: in his car, in a thunderstorm, on the side of a forsaken lane of some little countryside town in Yorkshire. His mobile's got no signal, his GPS isn't working, and he's running low on petrol, so he can't even use the heater. Oh, and most importantly, his car is stuck in the mud, so even if the GPS was working and he knew where to go, he wouldn’t be able to. He's been in stickier spots; he reminds himself. Way stickier. This is just a bit of rain; it'll blow over. Then Harry will just... well, alright, he isn't entirely sure what to do when the rain stops because he'll still be stuck and lost. But, hey, there won't be any rain, which is something to cheer about.

#28th appreciation #fic rec #my fic rec #monthly fic recs #monthly reads #my reads #larry fics #completed fics

[questionableratatouille00]

Basements and other HYDRA Bullshit

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: All was going well until your Boyfriend’s past comes back to haunt him.

Note: Day five of @ailesswhumptober2023! (Hostage/Kidnapping/Held at gunpoint.)

Warnings: Cursing, guns, knives, violence, blood, injuries, Winter Soldier topics. (Torture, murder, etc.)

—————————————————————————

The room felt like it was spinning as you felt warm blood drip down the side of your face. The knife slash to your temple had seemed more of a minor inconvenience at the time, but you now wished you’d stopped to at least quickly bandage it.

“So, you think you can take away the words and you’ll be free? Hm?” The accent of the man speaking was strong, and you knew he was addressing Bucky rather than you.

“The Winter Soldier is gone.” You hissed, not even sparing a glance at Bucky. You couldn’t handle it and you knew it, too.

“The words were only one way to activate HYDRA’s greatest weapon. We have others.” The man grinned devilishly, and it made your stomach flip.

“You’re gonna leave him alone.” Growling as you said this, you tried to force yourself forward. The chains around your wrists bound you to the walls of the dark, cold, and unwelcoming cell you were in.

“You are not in control here!” He rushed out the words as he barked them. He completed his sentence by raising his hand, ready to backhand you across the face. “I am!” He sounded erratic, and absolutely deranged.

“Don’t touch her.” Bucky’s voice was low, and dark.

“Or what?” The man spat, grinning. “What are you going to do about it?” He pulled a small red book from his pocket.

You couldn’t really recognize what the book was, but you knew it was significant. It matched the description of a book Bucky had told you about, the one that haunted him in his dreams and in his flashbacks.

“I’ll fucking kill you.” Bucky glared at the man defiantly, and you attempted to copy his expression.

“You can try. But you are a dog, and this is your leash!” He waved the book in front of Bucky’s face, taunting him.

“Who the hell are you?” You asked finally.

“You should ask your companion this. Tell me, Soldat, do you remember her? Do you remember my daughter?” He barked.

You could feel your own heart sink, and with one glance at Bucky, you knew he was feeling the same thing. “Buck, who is this?”

“Victor Rostov.” He stated. “His daughter’s name is—“

“Was. Her name was Alina! She was eight. Eight years old, and you shot her in the head! You’re nothing but a monster! A monster!” Rostov howled as he raged.

“It wasn’t his fault!” You shouted at him. You didn’t want Bucky to have to hear any of this.

“She died at his hands!”

“HYDRA called for no survivors, right? They wouldn’t target a child.” You tried to reason. You didn’t want to think about how they totally would target a child.

“She’d be twenty eight! My daughter, my little girl, will never be able to live. And he can’t even fucking remember her?” Rostov’s voice was filled with pain, and you could tell that she meant a lot to him.

“I remember all of them.” Bucky admitted grimly.

“You deserve to die, monster. And so you shall.” He clicked a gun in his pocket, raising it to Bucky’s forehead.

“Hey! Hey, let’s talk about this.” You gasped, ready to beg. Rostov could hurt you all he wanted, but not Bucky. He couldn’t take Bucky from you.

You panted as blood dripped from your temple onto the ground, making a tiny little puddle. It made you feel sick, just seeing it.

“Why shouldn’t I—“ A loud gunshot rang out through the cell, or really the small basement you were being kept in. You shrieked, tears immediately rushing to your eyes as you screamed.

“Bucky! Bucky! Bucky, no! No!” You sobbed, as Rostov fell to the floor.

“It’s us! It’s us!” A few familiar voices shouted. Natasha, Steve, and Tony.

“It’s not me! It’s not me!” Bucky reassured you at the same time as you wailed.

“Oh my God. Oh my God.” You sobbed. “I thought you got shot. I thought you got shot.” You couldn’t seem to get enough air into your lungs, making your words, which were already mostly sobs, seem a bit breathy.

Steve and Natasha immediately rushed to the to of you, unchaining you from the walls. Tony stayed back in case anybody else was around.

“Not shot there.” Bucky tried to make you feel better, but the truth was that Rostov had shot him in the thigh before he’d died. The two of you were safe, and that was all that mattered.

—————————

“What he said..about the monster thing. It’s not true.” You said as you got to work on patching up Bucky’s thigh.

“Not so sure about that, dollface.”

“It’s not.” You glanced up at him, before looking back down at his thigh. “Promise.”

“If you say so.” He sighed, accepting defeat here. You nodded once, getting ready to bandage the wound.

“I do say so.” After a long pause, you continued. “You gonna be okay?”

“I’ve been through worse. I’ll live.”

“I didn’t ask if you’ll live. I asked if you’ll be okay.”

“I will be okay.” He laughed every so lightly, and you smiled.

He would be okay. And so would you.

#ailesswhumptober2023 #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #Bucky Whump #bucky x reader angst

[carp3tpasta]

I did the thing!!

Here's the template

Reasons under the cut

Favorite campaign: This was really difficult, as I enjoy most of them pretty equally. I couldn't narrow it down to one and had to go with top three. I love Hunter's campaign because of the challenge and story, and because it was the first to be different than the first two [no hate, I love the first two]. Ofc, because Hunter is my favorite slugcat too. I really love Artificer's campaign. Being able to explode is super fun [I love arson >:) /j]. Though the Karma mechanic can be annoying, I think it adds to the tragedy of Artificer in a way. I think the campaign would've been way too short without it too. Rivulet is top three cuz. Speed. And the storyline of that campaign...I will never stop crying.

Honorable mentions: Survivor, Spear Master and Saint

Favorite Slugcat: Hunter is my favorite slugcat because of the tragedy of their story and their character. Hunter did not deserve their fate, and even though the ascension ending is a far more peaceful end for them, they still never got the chance to live a full life.

Hardest Campaign: This was kinda difficult to decide as well because some campaigns have things that are both difficult for me and easy for me. But I ended up choosing Saint because it is a lot more difficult to defend yourself and how it is more difficult to find food before you freeze.

Honorable mentions: Spear Master, Artificer

Favorite Lizard: Yellow/Orange lizards because their antennae are cute, and I like that they live in packs and communicate with each other. They are just really silly, and I like them.

Honorable mentions: Cyan: So jump :), but they've caused me much pain. White: They remind me of cats because they're so sleepy, and I like their camouflage ability. They also have caused me much pain.

Favorite Iterator: Five Pebbles is my favorite character in the entire game. His story is a tragedy through and through. He shuts everyone out because he is desperate, angry, and jaded. He hurts everyone who cares about him in one way or another and, worst of all, kills his sister. The Rot he develops, in my interpretation, is a representation of his guilt, that slowly consumes him literally and figuratively. Before he succumbs to it though, he gives the only thing prolonging his life to the person he hurt the most. A representation of the heart. In his own blind rage, he failed to see the value in what he had, and like Hunter, never truly got to live. By the time he does realize, it is too late, and all he can do is give all he has left to Moon in a final attempt to make things right.

Favorite Passage: I like combat. It is fun

Honorable Mentions: The Scholar, The Mother

Favorite Species: King Vultures [and Vultures in general] are just super cool to me. They're terrifying but cool. Like, what is that thing!!?? It's horrible but so neat at the same time!!

Favorite Region: This was also difficult. I decided on Five Pebbles because of how mind-blowing it is the first time you traverse it. Especially with the lead up to it. Traveling through Memory Crypts and Exterior, getting closer to this mysterious destination that isn't just abandoned structures anymore. I think it really highlights how excellent the environmental storytelling is in Rain World. Also, Random Gods is so good. This isn't my favorite region in terms of being there for fun, however. But I couldn't choose one favorite for those either.

They are: Chimney Canopy, Industrial Complex, Outskirts and Shoreline

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