#on the one hand i think of them as fancy fancy when they’re just some guys. but i also think of myself as The Only Poolboy Superfan which is

[justmeinadaze]

Secret Underneath Part 4 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: I did update the Ko-Fi so now you can just donate whatever you can if you would like to :)

Donate

Warnings: Older (Mid thirties) Sugar Daddies Steve and Eddie/ Young (Early to mid 20s) Baby Fem Plus Size Reader, SMUT, light choking, spanking, DIRTY TALK, hair pulling, etc. FLUFF, they like her :).

ANGST, readers ex is a dick and tries to show off (boys put him in his place ;) ), mentions of their ex with some more details of what happened, reader mentions missing them when they are away, SLIGHT cliffhanger ending but nothing too dramatic, mentions of how their life style could affect her.

Word Count: 6457

Series here

You weren’t sure how you would feel when Eddie and Steve were away on business trips. You expected to miss them terribly and you absolutely did but what surprised you was how much you were missed in return. 

One evening you got a message saying that a car was going to pick you up from work that Friday and the next thing you knew you were being driven to an airport where a private jet dropped you off at Steve’s hotel where you were met with a big grin and a fancy dinner. 

“Steve, this is too much.”

“Not to me.”, he beamed as he pulled you into his embrace and rested his head on top of yours. “I just needed to see your face.”

“Aw, did you miss me, Daddy?”, you coo making him chuckle. 

“I always miss you when you aren’t with us, pretty girl.”

Another weekend, the same driver and jet coordinated to drop you off at the back of a packed amphitheater where a big overly muscled security guy guided you backstage, where Eddie waived at you like a little kid, his long hair bouncing behind him as he ran to hug you and lift you off your feet. 

“You’re here! Ah I missed you, sweetheart, so much.”

“I missed you to.”, you giggle. 

“After the show, the guys and I were going to relax, order some beers, and a pizza. Made me think of you so I thought you’d want to join.”

“I’d love to as long as I’m not an inconvenience or anything.”

“Hey.”, he scolds, grabbing your chin firmly. “Don’t ever let me hear you say that again. You are never an inconvenience, baby girl.”

Even though they were only gone for a week or two at most, they always fucked you like they hadn’t seen you in one or two years. 

Steve’s heavy pants filled your ears as his head hung to the side of your own and your fingers tangle in his hair as your other hand clings to his shoulder. His hips thrust his cock slowly into your cunt, hitting that sensitive spot inside you roughly.

“Fuck.”

“Come on, honey. Give Daddy one more.”

“I-I can’t.”

Lifting his head, his nose grazed the tip of your own as he ever so slightly pumped into you at a faster rhythm.  

“Yes, you can, Y/N. Fuck, you feel so good. Cum on Daddy’s cock, baby. That’s it. My good girl.”

You and Eddie drunkenly laugh as the lamp by his bed falls to the floor as he stumbles into his bedside table trying to keep his lips on yours. Shoving you against the wall, you groan as he grinds his lower half between your legs and hooks his arm under your knee to lift one around his waist. 

You fumble with his belt desperate to feel him as his wet kisses trail down your neck and his tongue runs along your skin. He mewls when your soft palm wraps around his length before guiding it into your sex. As you clung to him, he rolled his hips roughly relishing the sound of your moans as your breath warms his flesh. 

“Jesus, listen to that little pussy taking Daddy’s cock. You’re so fucking wet.”

“Y-You looked so fucking sexy on stage playing your—mmm—guitar. Couldn’t stop…staring at your…fingers.”

Eddie’s thick digits slide into your mouth and your pussy clenches around him at the feeling. 

“You like my fingers and how they move, sweetheart” Again, you tighten around his cock and he growls as he pumps into you faster slamming his cock deeper inside you. “Fuck, Y/N, they’re all yours, babe. Only yours.”

After you came back home, you immediately felt their absence and it killed you but this is what you signed up for so you never said a word. You remained silent when a couple of days would go by without hearing from them because they were extremely busy. 

“Hey, baby. Why are you still at school?”, Steve asked as his voice flowed from your computer. They had both been gone this time for a little over a week and unlike other times hadn’t sent for you to come see them. They did explain that this particular trip was supposed to be a big deal for them both. 

Steve was working on new deal that would help him get recognized globally so he could expand further and Eddie wasn’t touring per say but doing the talk show circuit with his bandmates to campaign for the Grammy he personally couldn’t care less about. Even as they spoke to you, the mogul was at his desk in the hotel room flipping through documents and the rockstar looked like he was smoking on the roof of a radio station.

“I’m doing some work here, you know. Grading some papers and things like that.”

“Hm.”

“Yeah…I hear it to, Ed.”

“Hear what?”

“You’re hiding something.”, he chuckles. “Why don’t you want to go home?”

A heavy exhale leaves your lips as you lean back in your chair. 

“I’ve gotten used to you being there and when you’re not… it just feels empty.” They softly smile at your admission and suddenly you can’t seem to stop yourself as the words begin to flow. “My apartment also doesn’t really have a lot of your stuff, you know? It’s like when you’re gone, you disappear completely. Add in the fact that you have to pretend like I’m not yours so I see girls touch you and flirt… I hear you tell reporters you’re single which…I guess you are but…”

“Y/N, sweetheart—”

Eddie’s voice in your ear is interrupted when someone loudly knocks on your door making you jump. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Holden. You scared me.”

“I scared you? Pretty much everyone has gone home. Why are you still here? Who are you talking to? You’re new boyfriend?”

“None of your fucking business. We had a deal. Get out of my classroom and leave me alone before I give you another black eye.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see both men had completely stopped what they were doing to focus on you, realizing now you were talking to ex. 

“You always did like it rough, babe.”

“I’m not your ‘babe’ or ‘baby’.”

“Hm but I’m always going to be your Daddy, sweetie.” You weren’t sure if your ex could feel it but you definitely did through the screen as Eddie and Steve’s anger radiated through. “Look, calm down, I just heard your voice and came by to ask if you were going to the faculty thing tomorrow?”

You glared at him with equally annoyed eyes making him chuckle sarcastically. 

“I’m just asking because I’d love to meet your new man. Maybe exchange some stories—”

“Like how you’re so desperate for attention, you physically hurt me, put a picture of us in a book I borrowed, and are now here puffing up your chest like a peacock, you fucking idiot? Trust me, you have never nor will you ever be MY Daddy. The men—man—I’m with showed me what having that title actually means.”

“Hm, well they, I mean he, will learn how much of a pain in the ass you are and you’ll come crawling back, Y/N. You always do. Why even bother hiding it if you have multiple men in your life. You were also always a bit of a freak. It’s unfortunate, unlike myself, most men can’t handle a woman with your…proportions. Have a good night, honey.”

Your eyelids flutter slightly at his passing insult as he walks away. 

“What’s the faculty thing?”

You jumped when Eddie’s voice roughly pulled through your earbuds. 

“We’re doing a costume party at the school for Halloween since the actual holiday is on a school day.”, you answer with a crack in your voice you try to hide. “I’m sorry.”

“What on earth do you have to be sorry for, baby?”

“I just… I feel like he wasn’t only being a dick to me but you guys.”

“Look at us, sweetheart.” When you do as your told, you take in there still seemingly agitated demeanors even though their eyes reflect nothing but care for you. “You are absolutely right, he was. But you were also right about the fact that we know the true meaning of the word Daddy when it comes to you. All that matters to us is how you’re feeling.”

“I’m going to send Thomas to come get you, Y/N—”

“You can’t. It’s another reason he was coming in here to stir up trouble. He already knew I was going to the party. I have to…we all do… I wish you could come with me.”

“We can. We may be fashionably late but—”

“No, no Steve. This trip is extremely important for you two. I’ll be ok, trust me. I can handle one asshole.”

##################

You grin as you watch you teacher friends dance out on the floor as you sip from the red cup in your hand. You had sent the guys a picture of you in your white angel costume knowing Steve would love the white high heels and Eddie would go crazy over the relatively short spaghetti strap dress but neither man responded. 

Assuming they were busy with work, you made sure to keep them updated, letting them know when you got to the school and that you were safe. 

“Y/N, come on! Dance with us!”

Placing your drink in the trash, you sauntered over to your friend, laughing as you allowed yourself to let go and have fun. As the music began to slow and people paired off, you shuffled to the side, taking a seat in one of the empty chairs to look through your messages. 

The seats on either side of you suddenly became occupied but you didn’t think anything of it until one of the strangers spoke directly to you. 

“Beautiful woman like you shouldn’t be distracted by her phone.”

“Hm. Thankfully I’m my own woman and I don’t answer to you so…”

“Technically, princess, you do unless you decided you don’t want us anymore.”

Your head abruptly lifted, your eyes coming face to face with a handsome devil in a red mask. His long hair was pulled into a ponytail held back by devil horns and his matching red suit had you salivating as it clung perfectly to his frame. 

“Eddie? What are you doing here?”, you whisper. “You had an interview tonight!”

“You’re more important than a meeting and an interview.”

Swiveling towards the other voice, you took in Steve’s all black suit with an equally colored mask and horns as well. 

“So, angel, you wanna dance?”

Grinning, you nod your head and take his hand as he rises and leads you to the dance floor where he places his palms on your waist while you put your own on his shoulders. 

“Steve, you really didn’t have to come here.”

“I know we didn’t have to. Remember, baby, we never do anything we don’t want to do. Plus, you’ve been coming to meet us these past couple of months, we wanted to show you that we can do the same.”

“Really? I think Daddy was just jealous.”, you giggle. 

“Yes and no.” Your smile grows as he spins you before pulling you back to his chest where you rest your head. “The fact that this fucker thinks you still belong him did spike those feelings but it was more the fact that he had the audacity to disrespect you and hurt you.”

“He didn’t hurt me.”

Strong fingers grip your chin forcing you to look up at him. 

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N.”

“I can handle it.”, you murmur.

“I know you can. It’s one of the many reasons we like you but, honey, what we’re telling you is you don’t haveto.”

Tilting up on your toes, you kiss his lips as he smiles against them. 

“Do you, um, do you guys want to see my room?”

***

“Look at you, you nerd.”, Eddie teases as he points to your bookshelf full of the usual English books you would see on a reading list. 

“Said the Dungeons and Dragons geek.”, you jest making him throw a wink your way. “The school district requires they read one ‘English’ book a semester and write a report. A lot of these kids struggle financially so I try to make it easy where I can.”

“Who’s this? Your parents?”, Steve asks as he holds up a framed photo you have on your desk. 

“Yeah, that’s my mom and my dad. This right here is my best friend since grade school. She’s still in my hometown but we talk as much as we can.”

“Seems like you gave up a lot to come up here with…Holden?...was it?”

“I told you I was stupid.”

The rockstar smiles as walks over to you and lifts you up onto your desk. 

“You weren’t stupid, sweetheart. You were in love and hopeful. We get that.”

Your head slightly hangs as you glide your hands down his arms to hold his hands while your silent question hovers in the atmosphere. 

“Yes.”, Steve answers before he jumps up on to the desk to sit beside you. “We did love her…Gina. We’re still trying to figure out if there was ever a point where she loved us back.”

“With how it all ended, we’re thinking no but…”, Eddie shrugs. 

“How long were you together?”

“Officially? On and off for 2 years, I think. Right, Harrington?”

“Yeah, but we were friends before that. We met her at a film screening for one of her mom’s movies a few years prior. She could be a bit of a brat but she didn’t have a kind heart like you.”, he grins as he reaches for your hand and intertwines his fingers with your own. “She could never really turn it off. She was rude to everyone and that nepotism leaked out constantly.”

“What made you leave?”

“It was a couple of things but the main one being her cheating with some twenty something football quarterback. Paparazzi caught her in the back of his jeep and plastered the image everywhere. She had the audacity to run to us after to see if we could make it go away.”, Eddie sighed as he stepped forward and rested his head on your shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I would never do anything like that. I can be a bit of bitch when I need to but—”

The rockstar’s lips cut you off for a brief moment before you wrap your arms around him and hug him to your chest. 

“We trust you, Y/N. That’s why we’re trying to be more open and let you in.”

You wished you could pause this moment and revel in it for a long while with you tangled in both their arms. You felt so safe with them which is something you had been desperately looking to attain for a long while even when you were with your ex. After you moved away from everything you knew, you struggled to find your footing and Holden didn’t make it easy. You always felt like you were falling through the cracks which strengthened you own resolve but you were tired. With these two men here, you could finally feel safe letting go. 

“Wow, when I said multiple men, Y/N, I didn’t think you’d have them at one time.”, Holden echoed sarcastically as he leaned in the doorframe of your classroom. 

As they turned to look at him, they took a few seconds to take him in before Eddie loudly cackled as a wide toothy grin painted Steve’s features. Your ex was dressed like the front man of one of his favorite bands, Corroded Coffin, but it was very haphazardly put together.

“Oh my god. Sorry, man. I can’t wait to show Gareth this. He’s going to flip shit when he sees how assholes perceive him.” Eddie continues to laugh as he takes a picture with his phone. 

“So you are thee Holden?”, the mogul asks as he sizes up the man in front of him. 

“I am and I don’t appreciate the condescension.”

“Well, we don’t appreciate the way you treat and talk to Y/N so we’ll call it even. We’ve actually been dying to meet you. We heard what you said yesterday about still being this beautiful woman’s Daddy.”

“Oh, you heard that huh? Good. Trust me, boys, you can’t handle a little brat like her.”

“Is that why you put your hands on her?”

“Please. I don’t know what she told you but I know her. She’s a needy thing that likes it a lot rougher than most girls.”, he shrugs. 

Steve sarcastically smiles turning towards Eddie who does the same. 

“See, Holden, there’s a few problems with that. The first being, that little one there…she’s ours. You put your hands on something that doesn’t belong to you.” The mogul moves out of the way as the rockstar’s fist flies, hitting your ex in the nose before grabbing him and shoving him to the ground. “Secondly, she does like it rough but she consents to that with us. She told you no and, Holden, no means no. Can you say that for me?”

“Fuck you, dick!”

This time Steve’s the one that punches him. 

“Try again.”

It takes a couple more smacks before he finally submits. 

“No means no! Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“We know, bud. Come on now. On your feet. Good boy.”, Eddie responds calmly as he guides the man to a standing position clinging to his collar. “But we aren’t the ones you should be apologizing to.” Shoving him in front of you, they wait for him to continue and when he doesn’t the rockstar’s ringed hand smacks the back of his head. “Go on, dumbass. Geez, what did you see him?”

You smirk as your eyes narrow playfully in his direction.

“I-I-I’m sorry, Y/N.”

As Holden glances towards Steve, the man rolls his eyes as he gives him a keep going motion with his hand. 

“Um, I’m sorry for hurting you on our date and calling you a whore. I, uh, and for bothering you at work e-e-even though we agreed I wouldn’t.”

“And?”

“And what?!”, your ex yelled sarcastically causing Eddie to push him to his knees.

“Holden, we heard you talk about her weight and from what she’s told us we know it’s not the first time.”

“I find it amusing that you seem to think most men can’t handle her ‘proportions’ yet your way is to bring her down and make her feel like she’s unattractive. That really is a shame because quite honestly she’s the most beautiful woman we’ve met and that’s without taking into account how fucking sexy her body is.” Holden’s eyes meet yours as Steve speaks. “I also think it’s interesting she seems to think she’s a brat to yet, Ed, have we experienced that side of her yet?”

“Nope. I mean she’s a bit sarcastic but I wouldn’t say bratty. More than anything she’s confident and knows what she wants. Nothing a Daddy can’t handle.”

The mogul sunk down on his heels to get on your ex’s level. 

“That’s why you lost her. You, little boy, thought you could handle a woman like Y/N. MEN can handle her attitude and her proportions. Do you know why?”

“Because we don’t see it as something that needs to be handled.”, the rockstar answers for him. “We wouldn’t have her any other way.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I promise I’ll leave you be.”, Holden sighs as his head hangs.

“Good boy.”, Steve praises as they help him to his feet again and dusts off his outfit. “Come on, baby.”

He reaches for your hand and you immediately take it, walking with them towards the door before they both pause. 

“Oh and Holden.” The man lifts his mask to his forehead making your ex’s eyes widen. “If you ever hurt her again, we won’t be so nice. I have some friends in high places.”

“Honestly, buddy, it’s best if you just not talk to her at all unless it involves school. Trust us, we’ll find out if you cross anymore lines.”, Eddie adds as he lifts his own mask and winks.

##################

“Where are we?”, you ask as Steve takes out a set of keys and jiggles it in the lock. 

You knew they weren’t taking you home when they passed all the regular streets it took to get there but when they stopped at a building that wasn’t a hotel you became curious. 

“Our place.”, he answers as he slowly opens their front door and gestures for you to enter. 

They watch with amused eyes as you gradually step forward and take in their massive apartment. The living room was spacious and open with tall ceilings and large glass doors that opened to a pool on their balcony. Beyond that you were able to see the beautiful city lights that made you smile. Maneuvering down a hallway, the first room you found had to be Steve’s with the strong cologne smell that made you swoon. 

There was a large bed in the corner with a small gym area he created off to the side. Your fingers ran along his suits in his closet but you were more fascinated by the polo and t-shirts you had yet to see him in. Against the wall by his window was his desk and you took in all the paperwork scattered across the wood.

A framed photo by his bed catches your eye and you pick it up, giving it a good once over before flashing it in his direction. The photo was one he had taken one of the many times you went to go visit him during his business trips. You had both been talking on the balcony of his hotel with one of his shirts wrapped around your naked frame. While you were leaning over the railing looking out into city below, he had come up behind you, wrapping his arms your waist as he kissed your cheek and snapped the image.

“You have a picture of me?”

“I have a lot of pictures of you.”

“I know I mean…”, you giggle. “You have a picture of me by your bed in a frame.”

“Yeah, of course. I like that your face is one of the last things I see before I fall asleep.”

He softly smiles your way and you feel like your heart is going to explode. 

“I have one to.”, Eddie beams as he gestures across the way and you immediately head towards his room. 

A wide smile painted your feature when you entered the rockstars area and were promptly hit with the smell of cigarettes and his own signature body scent. Along the walls were posters of other metal bands and guitars he had collected over the years. His floor was littered with his own clothes and on his dresser you took note of the many fantasy books you had actually begun reading so you could understood what he enjoyed. 

On his bedside table there were a few photos of different people. One was of a gorgeous woman who looked exactly like him that you assumed was his mother. Another was of him with an older gentleman rolling his eyes backstage at one of their concerts wearing a Corroded Coffin t-shirt as Eddie threw his arm around him throwing up the rock n’ roll symbol with his tongue hanging out. 

Beside that was his picture of you at one of the after-concert parties you attended with him and his friends. You were sitting on his lap with his arms tangled around you as his forehead rested against your cheek with you both tenderly grinning.

“We thought, maybe, we could give you our key and that way when you miss us you can come here or maybe even…I mean if you’d want to…”

“You could move in with us.”, Steve finished for his friend with as much a shake in his voice as the other. “Of course, you don’t have to but we just wanted you to know the option was there and—”

Your lips cut him off as you jumped into his arms and kissed him almost desperately. After defending you, protecting you, missing you, and showing you how much they genuinely seem to care, you needed to show them how appreciative you were and how much you felt the same. 

Stumbling forward, you both fall onto Eddie’s bed, his mouth never leaving yours as he shuffles off his suit jacket and tries to unbutton his shirt before getting distracted trying to grind his lower half against your own. A mischievous chuckle emits from your lips as you take hold of his collar and rip his shirt open, your palm running up his warm, hairy chest as his moans vibrate through him. 

After throwing your halo headband to the side, he does the same with his and grips your back as he rolls you on top of him. Noticing you struggle to remove your wings; Eddie comes up behind you and assists, making you smile as you tilt towards him to taste his lips. His hand clings to the back of your neck as Steve’s own begin to roam along your sides to your tits over the fabric of your dress. 

Carefully the rockstar unhooks your garment and delicately lifts it over your head and the mogul immediately takes advantage of the opportunity, hastily sitting up to press his face in the valley of your breasts as he open mouth kisses your skin. 

“No underwear, sweetheart? Naughty girl.”, Eddie teases as you press Steve’s head closer to you, feeling his fingers travel up to unhook your bra. “Wait, Steven.”

The man pauses as you both watch his friend scurry to quickly grab your halo and place it back on your head, beaming down at you as he gently brushes some of your hair away from your face and kisses your cheek. 

“Our angel.”

After pushing Steve flat against the mattress, you fumble with his belt and unbuckle his pants as he helps you push them down his legs. A loud groan escapes his chest when you soft hand wraps around his cock and your tongue licks the precum off his tip. 

“Fuck. D-Don’t tease Daddy, baby.”

“Or what?”

A ringed hand lightly but firmly comes down on your behind making you squeak and pout. Unhooking your jaw, you took him into your mouth, flattening your tongue, always remembering what they told you. 

We like messy.

You whine around him when you’re spanked again but it turns into a moan when two fingers effortlessly slide into your folds. 

“Atta girl. I know how much you like the way my fingers move.”, Eddie coos in a husky tone that has you clenching around him. 

Steve’s hand rested on the back of your head as he guided your rhythm, grunting and groaning as you gagged around him. 

“There you go, honey. Fuck, that’s it. Taking me so well down that little throat of yours. Let-Let me take over.”

After giving him the ok, his grip tightens in your hair as he thrusts his hips and his friend matches his pace. You were overwhelmed with sensations as you choked around him and your stomach began to tighten at the impending orgasm building up inside you. 

Tugging on your hair, Steve leaned his forehead against yours as you panted, not needing to be told to keep stroking his cock with your hand. 

“That’s it, baby girl. Fuck, are you about to cum on Daddy’s fingers?” Your big, blown out eyes locked with his as you nodded and felt his dick twitch in your hand. “You’re so fucking perfect, Y/N. We’re gonna fuck you so hard and ruin you for anyone else. Do you want that?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Yes Daddy what?”

“Yes Daddy I want you both to ruin me. Oh my god.”, you whine loudly as the coil snaps and Steve’s lips crash to yours as he swallows down your moans. 

Rolling you over, he grabs your ankles and drags you till your lower half is hanging off the edge of the bed with you on your tummy. You squeak when his palm comes down hard on your behind before lifting one of your legs onto the mattress and guiding his thick cock into your core. 

In this position, you felt like he was stretching you in half as he slowly but firmly pumped his hips. 

“Daaaaddddy…”

Leaning over your back, his fingers gripped your jaw as his lips hovered over your ear. 

“You can take it, baby. I know you can. Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” Steve fell against your shoulder and you both grunted when he delivered you a few hard thrusts practically punching the air from your lungs. “That’s a…a good girl.”

Standing to his full height, he picked up his pace as the sound of skin slapping skin filled the room. You were so enthralled in the euphoria you didn’t even notice when a now naked Eddie was stroking his cock in front of you. 

You tried to lift your head but you struggled which Steve noticed, slowing down to drop your leg and take hold of both your wrists to help pull you back while giving him more leverage to pound into your cunt. 

“Jesus, princess. You look so drunk on his dick right now I don’t think you can handle mine.”

“Ah…no, please, Daddy. I-I-I can handle it.”

“Are you sure? It looks like you won’t have much control.”, he replies with slight mocking knowing already you don’t care. 

“I trust you both.”

Smirking, he scoots himself closer to you, threading his fingers in your hair and guiding your lips around his length. 

“Shit, sweetheart, you take us both so well. I think you were made for us.”

Occasionally tugging you back, Eddie allowed you to collect some air as you moaned. When he realized you were close to your climax, he cupped your jaw and stroked his cock with his hand as you licked and sucked on his balls. 

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna fuck you so fucking hard, you’ll be feeling me for weeks. Now that we showed that asshole who you belong to you can show him how your Daddies take care of you.”

Leaning your sweaty forehead against his upper thigh, he continued to hold you as you panted against his skin before a loud scream ripped through you and you came. 

“God fucking damn it!”, Steve shouted as he folded over you and chased his high, slamming into you with rough abandon until you felt him coat your insides. 

Ringed fingers petted your hair out of your face as soft kisses landed on your temple. 

“Color, baby?”

“Green, Daddy. Thank you.”

“Color, Steven?!”, Eddie chuckles at the other man who falls back first onto the bed breathing heavily.

“Green…fuck…”

“Good.” Yanking you further up the bed, you giggle as he places you on your back, grinning down at you as he quickly grabs a pillow and puts it under your hips. 

Tilting down, he gives you a gentle peck on the lips.

“My turn.”

Balancing on his knees, you mewl as he slides his cock into your entrance and watch as his face scrunches in pleasure. Taking ahold of your legs, he lifts them over his shoulders on either side of his neck straight in the air making your eyes roll and shut. 

As his fingers dug into the meat of your waist, he clung to you as he kept his promise and pounded his length deep inside of you, hitting your sensitive spot repeatedly. 

“Atta girl. Fuck, this pussy is so good. You’re just…choking my dick…baby.”

“Please, Daddy.”

“What do you need? Tell Daddy, sweetheart.”

Taking a hold of his palm, you brought his digits to your mouth and an audible groan left his chest as your tongue wet the tips. 

“Touch me. Please.”

When his fingers began rubbing fast circles into your clit, you knew you wouldn’t last too much longer. 

“Jesus.” Rolling his waist, his hand reached out to grip your throat and you nodded, pleading with your eyes for him to get you there. Eddie’s grunts were like music and you moaned his title as your legs began to shake and you came. Dropping your limbs, he fell on top of you, aggressively thrusting his hips to elongate your high. 

“Fuck, Daddy. I need you to cum. Please…”

With your encouragement and a few more sloppy pumps, his release warmed your insides. 

The rockstar couldn’t help but groan happily when your fingers started running through his hair. 

“I like when you do that.”

“You make it sound like girls don’t play with your hair.”, you smile. Glancing towards Steve, your eyes widened when he shook his head. “No? Not even your fluffy head of hair?”

“Hm. Nope, honey. Just you.”

Eddie whines when his friend pokes his side, silently ushering him to get off you so they could get you clean. As you tried to get to your feet, you wobbled a bit and that was enough for the metalhead to lift you into his arms and carry you to his bathroom. 

“Told you he had a big bathtub.”, the mogul teased as the other man stuck out his tongue. “Shit. We don’t really have any…”

“Girly smells?”, Eddie tries to help by finishing his sentence making you laugh. 

“I don’t mind. I like smelling like you two.”

They both softly smile as they guide you in and take care of you, falling asleep as they began to dress you in some of Eddie’s clothes. 

###############

When you woke up, you were slightly thrown off guard, forgetting for a moment you had spent the night with them. Shuffling out of bed, you found both men out on their patio smoking a cigarette. As they spoke you couldn’t help but visually take them in. Eddie looked incredibly comfortable in his black sweats, wild hair, and bare chest, bearing his many tattoos for all to see should anyone be looking out their window. Steve had on his boxers and a Hawkins University shirt that was tight enough that you could see almost every muscle along his upper body.

They both seemed so calm as they spoke to each other and that made you happy. With the lives they had they deserved peace and you were glad you could give that to them in some way. 

“Ah ha. So the business tycoon Steven Harrington DOES smoke.”, you jest as you exit their apartment onto the balcony.

“Told you.”, Eddie chuckles as he makes room for you to sit between his legs and lean against his chest in the lawn chair he was sitting in. When his arms circled around you, you immediately felt safe. 

“Y/N, we, um, we wanted to talk to you about something.” Steve’s tone made you nervous as your body visibly stiffened. “No, hey, no. It’s not bad or anything.”, he soothed as he took a seat in the chair across from you both. “We just…it’s a big step and—”

“Steve wants to know if you would like to come to an event with us next weekend.” The mogul sighed as his friend shrugged. “You were taking too long.”

“In what capacity?”, you ask.

“It, uh, wouldn’t be like as a girlfriend but, um, we don’t want you to think we don’t see you that way. It’s just…a taboo I guess that…”

“Don’t you make deals for a living?”

“Jesus! Then you tell her, Edward.”, Steve growls. 

“You think of me like a girlfriend?”

Both men exchange a glance before the man in front of you tilts his head. 

“Yeah, I mean, if you want to be.”

“After Gina we said we wanted to take things slow with the next girl we were intimate with but Y/N we trust you. We wouldn’t have brought you here if we didn’t.”

“Of course, because of the circumstance there are some stipulations—”

“Stipulations?”

“Yes, for example, when Gina would go out with us she and we would tell people that we were just friends.”

“Which would mean the paparazzi are going to make assumptions a lot about us and another girl we even talk to. Other women will continue to flirt and try to touch us…” Eddie cringed as he spoke and you could tell they both hated what they were telling you.

“And you would let them?”

“No. Hey fuck no. Y/N, that’s not how we are. We would tell them or anyone to fuck off but we just want you to be prepared.”

“What about me? If I’m showing up and presented as a friend…men will hit on me and touch me in front of you.”

Steve’s jaw tightened as he glared off into the New York skyline. 

“You’re right, sweetheart. They will. But we just watched you tell us to fuck off when you didn’t know it was us sitting beside you. And you know any unwanted touches… we can break their fucking hands.”

“That’s not the only attention I would get either right? If people know we’re friends, they’ll pry and ask me questions about you guys. Try to get scandalous details. I may even lose some people I imagine.”

Your head hangs as you sigh before Eddie sits up and shifts you around so he can see your face. 

“I’m sorry we have to keep bringing her up, Y/N, but Gina shattered, fucking SHATTERED our trust in most people. Everything you mentioned, she did and then some. She took advantage of the opportunities and made them work for her. We’ve spent almost 4 some odd months getting to know you and we trust you way more than we ever did her and we knew her for years.”

“You don’t have to do this, honey, if you aren’t comfortable. We can wait a few months and talk about this later down the line. That’s not going to change how we feel about you. You’re ours and we’re yours.”, Steve added, lifting your chin with his fingers. “Tell us what you’re thinking, baby girl.”

“What’s the event?”

“A charity thing downtown.”

“I’m a little scared. I don’t know how to be at something like that.”

Eddie smiles as he kisses your temple. 

“Neither do I, sweetheart. That’s Steve’s territory.”

“Please, that’s my parent’s thing. If anything, I’m good at faking it.”, the mogul grins as he caresses your cheek. “So…do you want to come with us?”

##############

@aol19 @paradisepoisons  @paleidiot @dashingdeb16

@lilaclazer @joannamuns9n @thwippyparker @emotionaldreamer

@aactuaaltraash

#steddie x reader #steddie fluff #steddie smut #steddie fanfiction #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie fanfic #eddie stranger things #steve fanfic #steve smut #steve stranger things #joe keery #joseph quinn #stranger things #fan fiction #steddie x you #steddie x y/n #steve fluff #dom!steve harrington #dom!eddie #sub reader #steddie x plussizereader #steve x plus size reader #eddie x plus size reader #plus size reader #daddy steve harrington #sugar daddy steve

[kanerallels]

I wrote today's @monthly-challenge fic as a kind of follow up to this prompt I wrote for a couple months ago for @auroramagpie. I just couldn't really get the world and the idea behind it out of my head, so I thought I'd write some more! Today's prompt from Spring Fling was garden, for context

The Dume Library was unusual for a lot of reasons. The foremost being its librarian— a blind man who was rumored to be an ex-musketeer, one of the more famous ones. It was said he’d worked alongside Hera Syndulla, who was one of the best, if not the best herself.

When asked about it, the librarian rarely gave a straight answer. Usually, he just laughed it off or made some joke, and gently turned the conversation to a different subject. So no one could be quite sure what the truth was.

(well. There was one person, but she was different. She had lived it.)

One of the other things that made the Dume Library unusual was the fact it had a garden. It was fairly large, starting at the front right side of the entrance, and curving around in a wide sweep of flower beds and vegetable patches, bracketed in the back by rose bushes, made its way to the far end of the property, where it took up a large chunk of the back yard area.

The back door of the library led out into it by a path that wound past a fountain and a bench looking out across the property, to the beds in the back. It was this path that Hera took now, down to where the figure of the librarian was hard at work.

She’d only been in this garden a few times since Kanan had finished work on it— though with a garden, one could rarely ever be truly finished— and Hera paused to admire it. It was something of a motley patchwork of beautiful flowers, glowing with colors and beauty and sweet smells, and of carrots and onions and potatoes, looking comfortably sturdy and inelegant next to the peonies nearby.

It was a strange sight, but one that was completely on brand for Kanan, and Hera couldn’t help but smile at the sight. At the memory it brought her.

“When we retire,” Kanan said thoughtfully, studying the elegantly trimmed rose bushes around them, “we should have a garden like this.”

Hera snorted in her champagne glass. “Like this?” she said, gesturing at the topiaries trimmed in strange shapes, the grass trimmed to just the right length. “Seems a little… fancy for you, dear.”

“I can be fancy,” Kanan scoffed. “But no, not exactly like this. I was thinking about the roses. They’re nice, right? And there’s a patch of lavender over there that smells amazing.”

Letting out a thoughtful noise as she scanned the crowd of the party they were at, Hera remarked, “I never took you for a gardener.”

“I’m full of surprises. Besides, nothing wrong with some good hard work. It’ll keep us busy once we retire. Assuming you ever plan to retire, that is.”

Hera rolled her eyes. “Sure, when the bad guys decide to retire.”

Kanan didn’t laugh, like she’d hoped. Instead, his face was serious as he said, “You know, the world’s never going to run out of problems for you to fix. But it is going to run out of time. You’ve got to decide what’s most important.”

Pushing down a swell of shock, Hera kept her face calm as she said, “You’re serious tonight, aren’t you?”

His smile came back. “I’m always serious about you.” Setting his glass on a nearby stone statue, he held a hand out to her. “Dance with me?”

They hadn’t danced then. Hera had spotted their target who’d been at the party when they were two steps away from the dance floor. And then there had been a chase and a duel that Kanan had joked was just as good as a dance, and another criminal was brought to justice.

Those days were long gone for Kanan. But the garden was here. And Hera could smell the roses as she approached Kanan, who was kneeling next to one of the flowerbeds, carefully pulling weeds.

“Hard at work, I see,” she said, and his head went up at the sound of her voice.

“I wasn’t expecting you today,” he said as Hera knelt next to him. She saw a smile tilt up the corner of his mouth, a smile that always sent a flutter through her chest, and made her want to smile back. “I’m glad I was wrong, though. How did the Pryce thing go down?”

“We got Sato’s son back,” Hera said. “And Pryce was taken into custody. Thank you for your help— we couldn’t have done it without you.”

Tugging up a weed and tossing it onto a pile to the side, Kanan said, “My pleasure, as always. How’s your new partner doing?”

There was no sorrow, no bitterness in the question. But Hera still felt a twinge of remorse tugging at her chest. “She’s… doing well,” she said. “Eager to fight, but she’s learning not to charge headfirst into things.”

“It’s a good thing she has you. You and I had to learn that lesson the hard way.”

Hera snorted. “With the amount she listens to me, she’ll be learning things the hard way, too. She’s more stubborn than either of us were.”

“Even you?” Kanan ducked as Hera swatted at him, grinning. “Alright, I got it. Well, you’ve put up with a partner far more frustrating than she is— you’ve got this. I know you do.”

“Thank you,” Hera said. She sat for a moment, watching Kanan weed around a bed of nasturtiums, somehow miraculously avoiding the flowers and only pulling up the weeds. Finally, she said softly, “I miss you.”

He paused, just for a heartbeat. Turning to face her, he quietly offered her his hand, and she took it. His fingers were smeared with dirt, but gentle as he squeezed her hand. “I miss you, too,” he told her, and Hera had to swallow back a lump in her throat.

She’d never wanted to leave her partner behind. And not just because he was the best with a rapier she’d ever met, or because his plans were crazy, but they worked. He could always pick up on what she was thinking, and fighting side by side with Kanan was almost easy. It was like a dance they both intimately knew the steps to, and they were far better together than apart.

But then, they’d gone after a mad man. They’d had backup, which they’d sorely needed. But in the end, she and Kanan had been separated. And the mad man had blinded Kanan and ran.

Things had been hard for a while after that. It had taken a long time for Kanan to heal, both physically and mentally. Hera had been by his side every step of the way, even as it became clear that his time as a musketeer was over, far too early.

She had, briefly, thought about retiring. About stepping away and staying with him as he figured out what his life would look like next. And eventually, Hera had brought it up to him.

He’d laughed. “Hera,” he’d told her, “not a chance. You have the ability to keep helping people, and I’m not going to ask you to step away from that. Not yet, anyways. Just don’t forget me.”

“I could never,” she’d told him fiercely.

And she hadn’t, even as their lives grew and changed without the other fully in it. He’d found a way to keep helping, and Hera had come to see him whenever she could. Things were different, though, and she hated that. Hated being without him.

“How long can you stay?” Kanan asked, as if he’d heard her thoughts. Sometimes, Hera really did wonder if he could. 

“At least through the night,” she replied. “Sabine’s visiting her family, so I’m all yours.”

“Good.” Rising to his feet, Kanan helped her up, not letting go of her hand. “Come on. You can help me with dinner, as long as you stay pretty far away from the stove.”

Hera laughed, and for a minute it was like nothing had changed. She held onto that feeling as they headed into the library together, and felt a little peace settle in her heart. She was with her partner, even if it wasn’t forever. It could be enough for now.

#springfling2024 #star wars rebels #swr #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #kanera #kanera musketeers au #writing stories is a kind of magic too

[saudadeko]

ADHD tips from a girlie who was diagnosed in her late twenties and has had little to no support since and is being so brave about it:

1) Make it easy, make it accessible, and make it appealing. If anything this is the most important thing, all tips going forward are based around this concept.

2) That thing you think would help you but you haven’t bought/done it yet because you’re technically surviving without it? Buy it, you need it. It doesn’t matter if people around you might think it’s wasteful or that you’re lazy, you’re not, just do it, trust me.

3) Expanding on tip #2, if you’re like me and eggs are your main source of protein because they’re quick and easy and feeding yourself is a near insurmountable task- buy yourself an electric egg cooker, make a bunch of hard boiled eggs and keep them in your fridge for quick and easy protein to add to any meal (handful of crackers, a hard boiled egg and a banana? 5 star meal right there. Or mash them up with some mayo for egg salad sandwiches). Other easy proteins include: potstickers (put them in instant ramen), edamame (they have microwaveable snack packs), chickpeas (put in salads!), beans (can of beans microwaved with shredded cheese and some tortilla chips), peanut butter (with crackers, apple and cheese, adult lunchable style), and tofu (cut into cubes, throw them into a ziplock with some seasoning and potato starch, shake that shit up and bake it until crispy).

4) Spend a little extra (if you are able) on daily use items that excite you, it will make you more likely to remember/want to do said daily task. For example: the only reason I remember to use sunscreen is because I bought some fancy japanese sunscreen that smells like roses so I get excited to use it, same for laundry detergent and body wash! there’s a gajillion different body wash scents out there, switch it up!

5) If there’s a task you continuously struggle with take a moment to think about which part of the task is making it difficult, it could be something even as small as “I don’t put my dirty clothes in the hamper because my hamper has a lid on it and lifting the lid is one step too many-”, sounds a little stupid huh? But trust your gut, it’s not stupid if it works. See tip #2 and BUY A HAMPER WITHOUT A LID.

6) If you are having trouble starting a task, break the task down further, sometimes the way I start a task is just by going “Ok step 1) stand up-“ and so forth. Don’t worry about the task as a whole just take it one step at a time.

7) If you’re halfway through a task and have to stop, leave it out. All this, “Put things away when you’re done with them.” is bullshit. you will be much more likely to finish the task if restarting it is easier because you left it out plus it’s a visual reminder. You can also create faux deadlines like “I gotta finish this project before my friend comes over on tuesday because after I finish it I can clean off the dinner table.” etc.

8) It’s okay to outsource tasks and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, humans are designed to ask for, and to require help (what do babies do when they’re first born?? cry for help!!) ask for help and receive help without shame, if it makes your life better, you are WINNING.

9) If you have one big overwhelming task that you think you need to get done before anything else, but you feel motivated to do other tasks, do those other tasks first, it’s okay. Otherwise in all likelihood (at least in my case) you’ll put everything off until the last minute and then have to do said overwhelming task and those other tasks won’t get done at all. Doing those smaller tasks also lowers the mental load and you can use them as a motivation launch pad to tackle bigger things.

10) If you notice you tend to not put something away/forget to do something, perhaps consider moving and storing the item closer to where it ultimately ends up or where you are more likely to see it. For example, my makeup, pills, and mail are all stored on my desk because that’s where I tend to do my makeup, take my pills and deal with my mail. I used to store my pills in my bathroom medicine cabinet but all too often I would forget because they weren’t in my line of sight. Now that they’re on my desk, I have multiple chances per day to pass by them, go “oh I gotta take those.” and take them.

11) Open storage, open storage, OPEN STORAGE.

12) Motivation can look like all kinds of things. sometimes the only reason I get out of bed is because I remember I have a fun snack and I get to go eat it if I get up. It’s okay to lean into those simple “animal-brain” type motivators, you’ll eat because then you can use that fun new kitchen gadget you got a daiso? Neat. you’ll shower because then you can paint your nails that fun new color you got? Fantastic. You’ll go to the dmv and do that annoying thing because you’ll take yourself out for boba after? Superb. Lean-IN to those small motivators, they aren’t stupid or childish, they are VITAL.

13) Don’t buy into the cult of “if it’s worth doing, do it properly” it’s guaranteed to set you up for failure. If it’s worth doing, do it in whatever capacity you are able to. I put sunscreen on once a day because that’s fucking better than not doing it at all and I sure as all hell will fail at reapplying it multiple times a day. If it’s worth doing, do it half-assed babieeee.

Go forth and prosper!!! xoxo ✌️🩵

#adhd #actually adhd #living with adhd #adhd tips #felt like writing these out for reference as needed

[tteokdoroki]

☆༉ — RYOMEN SUKUNA. a better man.

about. you’re a girl that’s way out of his league and he’s the bad boy you couldn’t help but fall for. what happens when ryomen sukuna fails to meet you in the middle?

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, suggestive towards the end, no curses!au, modern!au, it’s implied that sukuna is in a gang, mentions of fights, reader is a rich girl, they’re kinda in love :( bad boy!sukuna, fem!reader.

“you’re mad at me. aren’cha?”

sukuna mutters with an air of faux nonchalance as he lazily jogs up the final marble steps that lead up to the restaurant he was supposed to meet you at nearly two hours ago. the evening traffic zips by, red and white headlights parting through the rain to illuminate your boyfriend’s features. heavy water droplets take residence on the slope of his nose and Cupid’s bow, some even daring to cling on to the tips of dusty rose-coloured hair.

if you weren’t so angry right now, you might take a moment to appreciate how good sukuna looks in the moment — especially with the way the rain makes the designer tux you’d gotten for him cling to his skin. exposing every ridge and dip and curve in his muscle while his inky black tattoos become all the more visible.

“of course i’m mad.” you step aside to let sukuna under the shelter of the entrance, avoiding him as he swoops down for his usual hug and kiss. “tonight is important. it was important.”

“babe c’mon on, i was—“

“you were late. they’re serving dessert in there, ryomen.” your tone is coloured with shades of annoyance and a hint of warning. like a mother about to lecture her child. you’re pissed. it’s written all over your face too — in the way that your brows crease and you pout so adorably. he’ll try to play it off, like he doesn’t care, but it almost makes sukuna sick to his stomach to know that you’re angry with him.

the rain picks up outside of the restaurant and you continue. “all you had to do was show up on time. come to this stupid fancy restaurant and be there to meet my parents. but of course, you got yourself caught up in—“ you grab his dress shirt in frustration, noticing the blood on the collar that doesn’t belong to him. his split knuckles and the bruise on his lips. “— in whatever this is.” you roll your eyes, blood boiling.

“it’s nothin’ for you to worry your pretty little head about,” sukuna scoffs, lips spreading wide in his signature smirk. the excuse is lame, but he doesn’t want you to worry for him any longer. “since when did you care about what your parents think, anyways?” but you see it in his eyes, that same old worry. that he’s not good enough for you, that a scumbag like him doesn’t deserve a pretty girl like you. he’s always told you to find someone better, someone able to feed into the glitz and glamour that you were brought up in.

but you’ve always told ryomen sukuna that you have everything you need right there with him.

cupping his face, the heat of anger dispels from your body and you exhale deeply though your nose. “i don’t care about what my parents think. if i did, i wouldn’t be dating you.” you cast a thumb over the thick lines of ink decorating his face, accenting sukuna’s high cheekbones and chiselled features while the rest of your fingers sink into his smooth, dark undercut. “but that doesn’t mean i don’t want you to meet them. they’re just as special to me as you are. i want the most important people in my life to know each other.”

your boyfriend’s hands settle on your wrists as he grunts noncommittally, indicating that he’s aware of his wrong doings. if there’s one thing that sukuna hates, it’s upsetting you. he doesn’t care what the world thinks of him, it’s never mattered before. yet, even the slightest look of disappointment from you has the man in shambles. “‘m sorry,” he drawls, his grip on you shifting down to cup your waist — pulling you flush against him. “what can a guy like me do to make it up to you?”

“you can go on in there and charm the hell out of my rich, uptight parents so that we can hurry up and go home,” your voice lowers an octave as you stand on your tip toes for the extra height so that you can nip at the shell of sukuna’s ear. “where you can rip this dress off’a me.”

“such a dirty mouth for such’a prim ‘n proper girl, hm? i should wash it out with soap.�� he purrs right back, leaning down to kiss at your neck until you’ve had enough of his frayed pink hair tickling your skin. he damn near melts when your fingers inch up to tug at his roots — earning a deep and thrilling growl from the man. “that was a dirty move. who taught you that?”

“my good for nothing boyfriend, he’s kind of a bad influence.” you tease back, despite having to physically push sukuna away in order to avoid setting off his inner beast before dinner with your parents is done — and instead, take to grabbing his larger hand in yours so you can lead him from the front of house to your family’s reserved table.

and like always, sukuna trails after you like a lost puppy enamoured with the person that found them, have them love and warmth. because, while you didn’t change him, you made him want to be better — to give up the knives in his back and the bullets looking over his head for something better. something softer.

something like you.

ryomen sukuna wanted to become the someone he thought you deserved.

that’s why he put on this stupid suit and tie, why he let you take his hand, why he follows you to the the table that’s sure to seal his fate with you.

behind all that rough exterior, is a man who loves you.

and in front of sukuna, is a girl who loves him and all of his flaws right back.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #don’t look at me lawl #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen x you #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #angelshubnetwork

[ew-selfish-art]

Dpxdc AU: consultant groups can be used to outsource problems for companies so why not monarchies?

Danny is listening to the various eyeballs and ghosts chatter on about all the issues that he now has to oversee and advise and make so many freaking decisions on. It’s annoying that it all has to come down to his call because he was a dumb 14 year old who didn’t want his town to permanently live in the ghost zone.

Now 17, King of the Infinite, and a bit wiser to the world, Danny is doing his best to balance his teenage ambitions to not give a shit and his protective obsession to very much give a shit.

Sams parents are making her learn the family business and Tucker is trying to make this internship he’s got with a fancy tech company out of New Jersey into a career without college… so while they’re commiserating with Danny the idea comes up.

Earth has a shit ton of heroes. Like, ever since the Justice League *poofed* the GIW out of existence with the Meta human acts- more and more caped crusaders seemed to be coming out of the wood work. More villains too but still, more people who seemed wise to their abilities and morals. Danny has literally never taken an ethics class.

But rn, Eye-mothy and Eye-Bert are arguing over how Danny as King Phantom is supposed to tackle the problem of some fucking pool acting as a weird trade route with a cult and… ugh it’s just so boring but like also such a fucking problem. But… maybe it can be someone else’s issue.

Opening a portal, Danny escapes into space and gets to work finding the base of operations- Tucker had told him there was a new satellite after all and there’s no way it wasn’t connected to the hero orgs- and boom he flies into the Watchtower.

“Hey- are any of you guys willing to consult on some weird pools of ectoplasm in Pakistan? Green and glowing little lakes of bullshit and magic?” Danny asks into the meeting room of the JL regardless of their startled and alarmed exclamations.

“… I could consult on that.” A voice comes from the corner, and Danny recognizes him as one of the bat people. Or bird? The guy is in a lot of red and clearly wasn’t supposed to be in this meeting based on the way he’s propped in the corner. The room erupts in protest but Danny barely hears them through his excitement and focus on the dude.

“Great! I’ll have him back before the end of the day! Lets go Bird boy!” And with that, Danny grabbed the Bird, chucked them both through a portal back into his thrown room and begins to explain the way these eyeballs are totally trying to trap him into doing more work than he needs to do.

“What do I call you by the way? I’m Danny but you’ll probably hear them call me King Phantom.”

“I go by Red Robin, and honestly, I’ve been trying to get this shit taken care of for years.”

From there Tim becomes a regular consultant for King Phantom- the Bat Family is losing their minds with him constantly going to the land of the dead but also Constantine said not to piss off the king at all costs.

Danny is just thrilled that this dude has a shit ton of insight as well as business sense- like he could legit run the monarchy way better than him despite the fact that they’re the same age.

They end up working together for years, and even when there’s not an active issue at hand, Danny will meet up with the bird just to talk.

Sam and Tucker think they’re hilarious each time they ask if Danny’s proposed yet.

Tim has already planned their wedding but all of that information is in a folder more secured than the nuclear codes- Danny needs to ask him on a date first.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #Tim drake #dead tired #dc crossover #dp crossover #ehehehehe #also him just grabbing any random hero to help on any issue their power set might help to advise #danny outsourcing his issues is my favorite headcanon #boy wants to be helpful but also like is begging to just have one lazy Sunday #Tim drake is like ‘why would I not help run a monarchy in my spare time from running a Fortune 500 company and being a vigilante?’ #tim drake is a menace #he’s what the eyeballs have nightmares about and they didn’t even think they could have nightmares

[javiscigarette]

Silent Night

Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You’re home for the holidays and Joel isn't gonna let a drinking contest or a house full of people stop him.

Warnings: PWP ofc, established relationship, mentions of drinking/alcohol, having to keep quiet?, oral (f&m receiving), thigh grinding, creampie, breeding kink, come play, getting caught, I think that's all lmk if I missed anything

w/c: 6.6k

a/n: hiii everyone! I am in fact alive! I'm finally on break from school and this is just a lil something I wrote real quick bc I've been in the holiday spirit since before October even ended hehehe :) Anyway, thank u to the actual loml @undrthelights for beta reading and finding the perfect pics!! It's nice to be back! Please leave a comment letting me know if you liked it, support is what keeps writers going!! Love u all!!

my masterlist

Your hips grind a little harder against his thigh, a soft sight falling from your lips as he licks and sucks at the spot under your ear that drives you absolutely wild. “I don't think I can be quiet” you whisper, gasping softly when his tongue swipes over your pulse.  "You can" he mumbles against the side of your neck, the vibrations of his voice and his warm breath against your skin sending burning hot sparks down your spine. “You can do whatever I ask, can’t you baby?”

You can hear them downstairs, muffled sounds of Joel and several other of your family members talking and laughing while they sip on the fancy whiskey that your dad was saving for the occasion. You opted out of it, quickly taking up the offer of the first hour or two of alone time you’ve had since you arrived at your parents house two days ago instead. You figured Joel could use the time too, talking with your dad and uncles and cousins about whatever men talk about when they’re doing whiskey tasting in the mancave of a basement. 

You managed to avoid getting roped into watching a shitty Hallmark Christmas movie with the rest of your family or helping them prep for the big dinner tomorrow. After successfully sneaking away to your old childhood bedroom that’s now redecorated as a simple guest room, you're left with nothing to do besides relax. First up was a long shower with the water so hot you nearly scalded your skin, and now you’re cozied up in bed, nose buried deep in the middle of your book while the rest of the house buzzed with muted background noise. 

Time passes without you noticing, too engrossed in your book to keep track, but eventually the bedroom door creaks open, pulling you back to reality. You’re about to tell off whoever is at the door for interrupting you, but you immediately soften when Joel slips inside, quietly closing the door behind him. 

He looks so sweet, wrapped up in a thick dark brown sweater, his curls flopping over his forehead, a light dusting of pink on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose with a lopsided smile. His eyes are soft, warm, and a bit glassy as he looks at you like you’re the best thing he ever did see.

"Think your dad is trying to kill me" he says, his words slurring just a bit as he crosses the room over to the bed.

You giggle, watching him plop down on the bed on his back, his head rolling over to look at you, "Are you surprised? He does this to you every year."

It's true, every holiday at your parents house, your dad insists on the whiskey "tasting", which is really just him pouring heavy handed shots and glasses and seeing who's going to be the last one to tap out. Usually it's just him and his brothers in the end, hashing out some decades old sibling rivalry in the form of a drinking contest. And ever since the first time you brought Joel home for the holiday five years ago, your father has insisted on dragging him down there and challenging him too.

The first year was the worst with Joel not heeding any of your warnings about how much liquor your dad would actually push on him. Joel was so sick by the end of the night that he made best friends with the toilet and passed out on the couch, then spent most of the next morning with a massive hangover, apologizing profusely to your dad about it who just laughed and said that he can try again next year.

Thankfully, Joel knows his limits now and has made peace with the fact that he'll never beat your dad at his own game. It doesn't mean that the challenge doesn't still stand.

"No" he mumbles, a dopey smile spreading across his face, "Guess I jus' never expect him to pour shots big enough to knock out a horse"

"How many did you have this time?" You ask, bookmarking your place in the book before setting it aside, sitting up a little straighter and adjusting the pillows behind your back.

"Jus' three."

"Oh, so you are  just a lightweight then?"

"I'm not a fuckin' lightweight" he grumbles with a dramatic pout. 

You laugh as you turn to lay on your side, propping yourself up on your elbow. Your hand instinctively falls to his hair, a small content sigh falling from his lips as your fingertips skate across his hairline and glide through his soft curls.  scooting closer to him and reaching down to run your fingers through his hair, "Okay, baby" you hum, smiling when his eyes fall shut as your nails gently scratch his scalp, "If you say so."

Joel melts under your touch, like a cat basking in the sun, a lazy little grin on his face and a dreamy, far off look in his eyes. His face is still flushed, the tips of his ears and the tops of his cheeks a rosy shade of pink, his lips slightly parted, a few more stray curls falling across his forehead. He looks absolutely gorgeous, and the soft, tender look in his eyes when he finally looks back up at you melts you from the inside out.

You cup the side of his face in your hand and ;ean in to press a lingering kiss to his forehead. "You're so cute when you're drunk" you murmur, moving kissing his cheek.

"M'not drunk"

You pull back to look him in the eye, smiling, "Sure you're not"

"I'm not" he whines, "M'just a lil' tipsy."

"Alright" you hum, pressing a quick kiss to his pouty lips.

Joel follows your mouth with the softest whine when you start to pull back, his large hand cupping the back of your head, holding you still while he kisses you, needy, but still so sweet. The taste of whiskey is heavy on his tongue as it slides against yours, a soft, satisfied noise rumbling in his chest when you part your lips further, kissing him deeper. 

When he finally lets you break the kiss, you're left just a little breathless and dazed, a giddy feeling swirling low in your belly. His pupils are blown when he looks up at you, his lips spit slick and plump, a lopsided smile on his face. He turns a little more on his side facing you, his fingers fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt until his hand slips easily underneath like it was meant to be there. The warmth of his palm smoothing up and down the curve of your spine is soothing, his fingers gently tracing over your ribs and the dip of your waist, the slight scratch of his calluses over your skin sending a shiver down your spine.

His eyes are half-lidded as he stares at your lips, licking his own. Realistically, you knew exactly what was going to happen as soon as he entered the bedroom. You know how he gets when he's like this, soft, sweet, and incredibly needy. With all the amount of times he tugged you into a bar bathroom after he's had a few, or when Tommy drops him off after a night out and he's already halfway to undressing you before the front door even shuts. You know he's trouble like this, but you can never deny him when he's looking at you like that, like you're the only thing he needs, the only thing he's ever needed.

He leans in to kiss you again, slow and sweet, his fingers splaying on your lower back and keeping you close. His mouth moves languidly against yours, the tip of his tongue tracing your bottle lip and his teeth sinking in the slightest bit to nip and tug, pulling a desperate little sound out from the back of your throat. 

He sighs at the small sound and starts to lean into you more, using his weight to roll you over until you're flat on your back with him hovering above you, his forearms on either side of your head with his knees bracketing your hips. The kisses grow hungrier, wetter, more insistent, his mouth moving against yours like he's trying to breathe the very air from your lungs. 

He shifts a bit and you moan softly into his mouth when his thigh slots between yours, the firm muscle of his thigh pushing right up against the apex of your thighs, the perfect amount of pressure to make heat spark and smolder in your belly. He does it again, rocking his thigh up against you just a little harder, swallowing the needy whimper that you let out, the heat and friction making you ache. 

You can’t help but grind against his thigh, the seam of your sweatpants pressing against the damp spot that’s already forming on your panties and digging into your clit just right. You’re chasing the growing pleasure, the firmness of his thigh and the intoxicating taste of whiskey on his soft lips mixed with the faint trace of his peppermint toothpaste. You’d give anything to have him, for him to take you, but the sounds of laughter and chatter coming from downstairs is a rude reminder of reality. 

"Joel" you warn with absolutely no heat in your voice, his lips grazing the sensitive spot under your ear, "We can't.”

He ignores you for a beat, crashing his lips back on yours and kissing you until he needs to come up for air. 

"We can" he says, his voice gravelly and thick with want, the deep rumble vibrating in his chest. "We're bein' real quiet"

His lips trail across the line of your jaw and up your cheek before landing on your mouth again. The slow, lazy drag of his tongue against yours makes you throb, another soft when escaping you and the muscles in your legs and stomach tightening as you make no effort to stop moving against his thigh. 

“Everyone will hear us” you try feebly, knowing it’s futile. 

Joel smirks against your lips, the bastard. “Nah. I’ll be quiet.” 

You know he's a damn liar and a bad one at that. In what world could you be quiet with his hands and mouth on you, with his thick cock buried deep inside you, stretching you out and filling you up so good that your toes curl? And in what world could he be quiet, not running his mouth about how good you feel, how pretty you look stuffed full of him, how well you take him. You know exactly how it'll go, if the numerous failed previous attempts are anything to go by.

But then his lips are on the side of your neck, and you're forgetting why it matters. You let your eyes fall shut as his lips press gentle, wet kisses up and down the column of your throat, the stubble on his cheeks and chin scratching and tickling in the best way. You're quickly forgetting why this was a bad idea to begin with.

Your hips grind a little harder against his thigh, a soft sight falling from your lips as he licks and sucks at the spot under your ear that drives you absolutely wild. “I don't think I can,” you whisper, gasping softly when his tongue swipes over your pulse point. 

"You can" he mumbles against the side of your neck, the vibrations of his voice and his warm breath against your skin sending burning hot sparks down your spine. “You can do whatever I ask, can’t you baby?” 

“I don’t- oh…” 

The rest of your sentence dies on the tip of your tongue as he pushes his thigh against you, grinding it up against your core in a way that has your head spinning and toes curling, the pleasure sharp and delicious as it melts into your veins. 

“That’s right” he murmurs, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You’ll do whatever I say, huh?” 

There’s a pause and when you open your eyes, his are dark, his pupils blown wide, the deep brown nearly swallowed whole. His hair is tousled and curlier than ever, a few loose strands hanging in his face. His lips are slightly parted, swollen, red, and sick and shiny from your kisses. He’s an absolute sight and you can’t help but nod, eager to do whatever he wants, whatever he asks, because god it’s always worth it. 

His eyes crinkle a bit at the corners and the lopsided smirk on his face widens. He’s the fucking devil. 

Just the thought of him taking you with the rest of the house full of your extended family is making your veins buzz, excitement bubbling low in your belly. But you're well aware of just how thin the walls are and how nosy some members of your family are and you can't fathom how awkward it would be to come down for breakfast the next morning after the whole house heard you getting absolutely railed.

"It’ll be okay" he assures, reading your thoughts, his hands slipping under your shirt again. The fabric bunches up over his wrists as he slides his palms up your torso to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. "M’not gonna let anyone else hear you. Just me."

Fuck.

His simple words are enough to convince you, not that you needed much convincing in the first place. He had you wrapped around his finger and him around yours, and there was no way you were going to say no to what you know will come next. A jolt of electricity shoots down your spine and settles hot and heavy in the pit of your stomach. Your resolve breaks, your legs falling open further, letting him get even closer, and Joel lets out a soft, happy noise against your mouth.

"Atta girl" he hums, his voice rough and deep, "So good for me, aren't ya baby?"

"Always" you manage to reply, the word more of a sigh as you arch your back, his thumb teasing your nipple until it's pebbled and hard.

He gives into you easily, tugging your shirt up and over your head. His mouth lands on your chest as soon as it’s exposed, immediately licking and kissing across your collarbones and the swell of your breast. He noses along the valley between them, the coarse hair of his beard tickling your skin and making you giggle. You can feel him grinning against your skin before he nips and sucks at the supple flesh until a red mark rises to the surface. 

You squirm beneath him, his leg still nestled perfectly between yours and pressing against you every time he shifts. The pressure is building in your gut, your clit aching and throbbing. The feeling is almost too much with his hot wet mouth now wrapped around your nipple, his tongue swirling around the stiff peak making it harder and harder for you to keep quiet. 

“Joel,” you hiss, the word half warning and half plea. 

“Hush, baby” he mumbles against your skin. His fingers replace his mouth, pinching and teasing your swollen, spit-slick nipple as he kisses across your chest to lavish your other nipple with the same attention. 

“Gotta be quiet, remember?” he says when he pulls back, releasing your nipple with a wet pop. “Unless you want everyone hearin’ ya” 

You open your mouth to say something in protest, to tell him that he’s making things a lot harder right now, but then he starts moving, sliding down the bed and the words die in your throat. The look he gives you as he settles on his stomach between your thighs is sinful, his eyes dark and mischievous, his lips pulled up into a smirk. 

He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your sweats, slowly pulling them along with your panties down your legs, leaving you completely bare. Your stomach swoops at the sight of his eyes trained to your center and your thighs twitch, wanting to snap shut and hide. But his hands on both of your thighs keep you spread open for him. You swallow thickly, your breath catching in your throat, the anticipation building in the pit of your belly as your slick starts to drip down the cleft of your ass. 

Joel’s mouth falls open slightly, a shaky breath escaping him. “Fuck, baby” he sighs, tongue darting out to lick his cherry red lips, his eyes glazing over. A small, content smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, a swell of pride blossoming in your chest. He looks wrecked, like a starving man eyeing his first meal, and the way he's looking at you so intently, like you're the best thing he's ever seen, the thing that's kept him alive all these years, is making your heart pound almost painfully in your chest. 

“Fucking gorgeous,” he praises, his hand running along the inside of your thigh. “And all mine.” 

Like he can’t wait another second, he’s leaning in and licking a long, wet stripe up your center, dragging his tongue through your folds from your leaking hole to your swollen, needy clit. The feeling of his tongue on you pulls a soft, broken sound from you. You clap your hand over your mouth as your head spins, a rush of pleasure washing over you making the muscles in your thighs and stomach twitch and flex. 

He does it again and again, and every time his tongue flicks over the swollen bud, you let out a soft whine that sounds far too loud in the otherwise quiet room.

He groans against you, his mouth already wet and messy as he laps at your pussy like he's starving for it, like he would die without tasting you. His eyes are locked on yours, the look in them so dark and primal that it makes your walls clench, more slick freely leaking out of you and onto his tongue. He laps it up happily, his fingers digging into your hips, holding you steady as his mouth works your clit.

He lets out a quiet, breathy moan when you slide your hand through his hair once again, your fingers tangling in and pulling on the soft brown strands. His eyes flutter shut, a shuddery exhale falling from his parted lips, and the feeling of his warm breath fanning over your wet, sensitive center has you stifling another high pitched whimper.

You roll your hips up against his face, desperate for more, and he gets the hint, the flat of his tongue swiping up through your folds a few more times before he dips it into your entrance, pushing in and out while his nose nudges at your clit. You're writhing beneath him, tugging at his hair, trying so hard to be quiet but failing miserably, soft, desperate little noises pouring out of your mouth. You know he's loving it too, making no effort to keep your noises at bay, not giving a single fuck about who might hear.

He moans against your cunt, the vibrations making you jolt, your hips rolling up to meet him. You're panting, the hand that isn't buried in his hair gripping the sheets tight enough that your knuckles turn white, and your back arches when his tongue fucks in and out of you faster, rougher.

"Joel, fuck" you gasp, "I- I'm-

He growls, the sound muffled by your pussy, the vibrations and the feeling of his stubble dragging along your inner thighs making your toes curl, the familiar coil in your belly tightening, your thighs trembling.

He doubles down, bringing a hand between your legs to replace his tongue with two thick fingers sinking into you and curling up against that spot inside you that has you seeing stars, his tongue circling your clit while his fingers pump in and out of you, his mouth and hand working in tandem to pull you apart.

"Fuck, I'm close" you whimper, his fingers crooking against that spot inside of you, sending white hot fire coursing through your veins as your slick leaks down his fingers and into his palm like hot honey. 

He hums, sucking your clit between his lips, and your legs clamp around his head, your hand tightening in his hair as your orgasm crashes over you, your back arching off the mattress, a muffled, broken moan spilling out from behind your hand. He fucks you through it, his tongue flattening out against your clit while the tips of his fingers rub against that sweet spot inside of you, sending more sparks of pleasure tingling up and down your spine.

When it's too much, when the sensitivity makes tears prick in the corners of your eyes, you make a feeble attempt to push him away. He pulls back, sitting up on his knees, his chin and cheeks wet with your slick, his pupils blown so wide that the brown is almost completely swallowed up by black. He stares at you, his gaze so heavy and intense that it makes another shiver run down your spine.

"You're not being very quiet" he smirks as he moves off the bed to stand up.

You roll your eyes, still coming down from the aftershocks, your thighs quivering, "Yeah, no shit" you mutter, propping yourself up on your elbows.

He chuckles as he pulls off his sweater and the t-shirt underneath it before he starts unbuckling his belt and working on his jeans. You sit up, shuffling closer to the edge of the bed, reaching out and batting his hands away, taking over and quickly unfastening the button and pulling the zipper down.

He doesn't protest, letting you push his jeans and boxers down his legs until he kicks them all the way off. Your mouth waters at the sight of his thick, hard cock hanging heavy between his legs, flushed a deep red with slippery precum beading at the tip. You reach out, wrapping your hand around the base and taking a moment or two to revel in the familiar weight and warmth of him in your hand.

He shudders, a low moan rumbling in his chest, his eyes slipping shut as his hand moves to cup the back of your head. He watches you intently as you take your time, lazily stroking him, rubbing the pad of your thumb over the leaking tip and tracing the throbbing veins that run along the sides. His breathing grows heavy, his jaw clenching and his stomach muscles twitching as he tries so hard not to buck his hips up into the loose circle of your fist.

"C'mon, sweetheart" he pleads, the words leaving his mouth as a low, breathless groan, "Get me all nice and wet for you."

He doesn't have to ask twice. You lean forward and you dart your tongue out to lap up the bead of precum, humming at the salty, bitter taste of it, swirling the flat of your tongue over the head of his cock, your hand pumping the rest of his shaft. His breath catches in his throat, a stuttered curse falling from his lips when you dip your tongue into the slit, teasing more precum out.

He groans, his grip on the back of your head tightening, urging you to take him into the warm, wet heat of your mouth. You sink down, flattening your tongue and taking him all the way until he hits the back of your throat, the tip of his cock brushing against the roof of your mouth. You breathe through your nose, hollowing your cheeks, swallowing around him, and the deep, guttural groan that he lets out has you squirming, slick leaking out of your cunt and onto the sheets below.

"There ya go" he pants, his head lolling back, "Oh, baby, that's it. S'fuckin' perfect."

You pull off, a string of spit and precum connecting his cock to your bottom lip, and you look up at him through your lashes.

"Need to be quiet" you remind him, "Or else I'll stop"

He lets out a shaky breath and nods, swallowing hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He's not used to keeping quiet, not used to not telling you how good you feel, not used to not begging you to let him cum in that low, raspy tone that never fails to make you weak.

"I'll be good," he whispers, breathless and needy. "Promise."

Your stomach swoops at his words, arousal burning bright in your belly. Unable to stay away for much longer, you lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to the head of his cock. His hips jerk, another drop of precum leaking out. You lick it up, swirling your tongue around the sensitive, swollen tip before sinking down again. You take him into the wet heat of your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and swallowing around him, bobbing your head slowly and steadily.

He bites his lip hard enough to draw blood trying with all his might to keep his noises in as you drool all over his cock. He can't take his eyes off you, watching the way he disappears into the slick heat of your mouth. You look so pretty with your lips wrapped around him, spit dripping down his cock and leaking out the corners of your mouth while your eyes water as you take him as far as you can.

You take him deeper, and you swallow, your throat convulsing around him, and the way his whole body shudders makes you smile, proud of the effect you have on him. He's so big and thick, and you both know you can't fit him all the way down your throat, but seeing you try your best is enough to make his thighs start to shake. 

His cock hits the back of your throat again and again, the tip dipping into the soft, warm, tight space, and Joel's breathing is getting heavier and faster, his jaw clenched and his eyebrows knitted together.

"Shit" he grits out under his breath, "That's it, sweetheart. That's fuckin' it."

The praise goes straight between your legs, a fresh wave of slick leaking out of you and it's too tempting to resist, so you slip your hand between your thighs and rub circles around your clit, moaning softly around his cock.

He hisses, his eyes snapping down, watching your hand disappear between your legs.

"Are you touchin' yourself?" he asks, the words coming out rough and choked, his eyebrows raised.

You nod, sliding a finger into yourself, and you pull off his cock, panting, a thin strand of spit connecting the head to your bottom lip.

"Can't help it" you whine pathetically, your voice already raspy from how far his cock had been down your throat.

Joel groans, his dick twitching, and he's had enough. He takes a step back, and you let go, a little confused and worried that you've done something wrong. But he just takes hold of your arms and yanks you off the bed, his strong hands easily manhandling you, and then he's pushing you, turning you around and bending you over the side of the mattress.

"Oh" you breathe out, bracing yourself on your forearms, arching your back, sticking your ass up in the air.

You don't have to wait long for him to move. His hand is smoothing over your ass, the other one guiding his cock towards your sopping cunt. He teases the tip between your folds, spreading your slick and dragging his head over your swollen clit a few times before lining himself up and sinking in.

You bite down on the inside of your cheek to keep quiet, letting out a stuttering breath, the familiar, delicious burn of his thick cock stretching you out making your eyes roll back into your head. You've made peace with the face that you'll never be used to his size. It'll always be too much, the feeling of him pushing into, forcing your walls to make room for him will always make you clench and shiver.

He's got his hands on your hips, holding you steady as he bottoms out, his hips flush with the curve of your ass with the tip of his cock pressed against your cervix. He holds himself there for a moment, both of you adjusting to the feeling, and you're trying so hard not to moan, to keep your noises muffled by the mattress, and you know Joel's struggling too, his jaw clenched tight and his brow furrowed.

"Good girl" he whispers, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips, "Taking my cock so well, aren't ya?"

You nod, whimpering, your fingers twisting in the sheets.

He pulls back and thrusts back in, setting a steady, slow rhythm, the wet slide of his cock making the most obscene sounds. And it's driving you crazy, the need to let out loud, your chest burning with the effort of keeping your noises in. He keeps his pace slow, not wanting to make more noise with his hips snapping against your ass. It’s nearly tortuous though, the drag of his cock in and out of you so slow that you can feel every ridge as he takes his sweet time. You can only handle it for a few moments before the tingling hints of pain from the stretch subside and the burning need for him to fuck you senseless takes over.

"Joel" you whine, "Faster, please."

He leans over you, his front pressed against your back, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "You're not gonna stay quiet if I do," he says, his voice deep and gravelly, "Just take what I give you, sweetheart."

You're so worked up, the slow pace makes you even more desperate for him, and you can't help it, you need more, and you reach a hand back and grab his hip, urging him to speed up.

"I-I'll try" you promise, "Please, just- Just fuck me, Joel, please"

He hesitates, but the way you're squirming beneath him is so tempting, and the way his cock is throbbing and dripping inside of you is telling him that he needs more too.

Before you can say anything else, he's pulling back, the thick, heavy weight of him sliding out of you. You whimper at sudden empty feeling but you don't have time to complain before he's flipping you over onto your back and scooting you up the bed before climbing on top of you. You can’t help but notice how big he is, the muscles flexing smoothly in his strong arms that box you in as he hovers above you, nearly encompassing your entire body underneath his. His mouth is on yours before you can even blink, his tongue slipping past your lips and kissing you like his life depends on it.

He settles between your legs, his hips nestled in the cradle of your thighs, his cock dragging along your clit again warm and heavy, and you gasp, the sound swallowed by his mouth. You're squirming again, desperate to feel him stretch you out more and he takes mercy on you, reaching between your bodies and grabbing the base of his cock, guiding the thick head towards your entrance.

"Gotta be quiet, baby" he warns, his eyes boring into yours as he looks down at you. "Those pretty noises are just for me, yeah? Can't have anyone hearin' 'em."

You nod frantically and the next second he's pushing in, the fat head of his cock forcing its way into you and bottoming out in one smooth motion. You let out a gasp that's definitely too loud but Joel is quick to remedy it, his hand coming up to cover your mouth, his fingers splaying across your cheek.

"Shh" he shushes you, his hips rolling, the slow, lazy drag of his cock against your walls making you clench around him. Your eyes roll back, your back arching as his hand stops all the whiny little sounds you can't help but make. He continues to fuck you slow and deep, his cock sliding in and out of your soaking wet cunt, the filthy sounds of skin slapping against skin echoing softly in the room.

You can't take your eyes off him, watching his eyes squeeze shut, the muscles in his arms and shoulders flexing as he fucks you, his brows knitted together and his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. He looks beautiful like this, sweat glistening on his skin, his jaw tight, and his eyes shut tight, his mouth hanging open with his breaths coming out in soft, barely audible pants.

"Mmm" he hums, his hips picking up speed, his cock pushing impossibly deeper. "You feel so fuckin' good, baby. Fuck."

You reflexively clench around him and a shudder runs through his whole body.

"Gettin' real tight" he pants, "Tryna milk the cum right outta me, huh? Tryna make me fill up that pretty pussy?"

You whimper into his palm, your pussy fluttering, a fresh wave of slick coating his cock, and he groans, his hips picking up speed.

"S'what you want?" he asks in a hushed tone, his hand still pressed firmly over your mouth. "You want me to fill you up? Make a mess of that pretty pussy? Breed you until you're fuckin' stuffed, baby girl?"

Your back arches off the bed, the coil in your belly so tight that you think you might pass out. He's rambling, his thrusts losing rhythm, his breathing getting ragged and choppy, his chest heaving and his thighs shaking.

"That's it" he coaxes when you tighten around him even more, "Can feel it, can feel how close you are. Go on, baby, cum on my cock. Wanna feel that tight, wet cunt cum all over my cock, please, baby."

His hips snap forward, his cock pushing deep into you, the tip rubbing against the spongy spot deep inside you that makes the coil in your belly finally snap. Your eyes roll back, a muffled, broken moan falling from your lips as your entire body convulses, your orgasm washing over you and making your toes curl as your walls flutter around his cock buried to the hilt inside of you.

Joel lets out a deep, low groan, his hips stuttering as he fucks you through your orgasm. His hand slips away from your mouth so he can grip your hips with both hands, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, holding you in place so he can chase after his own release. His chest is tight as he holds in his grunts and groans, but it’s barely any use with the lewd noises that fill the room as your pussy gushes around him, your slick leaking past the tight seal of your walls around him and dripping down to his balls. 

"Oh, shit, baby. Christ,” he chokes out, his stomach muscles clenching as his hips slam into yours, his cock pushing impossibly deeper and harder. “Keep makin’ a mess, keep lettin’ me feel it. That’s it. Fuckin’ hell.” 

You can feel his cock starting to throb inside of you and you know he’s close. And you can’t stop the words from leaving your mouth, the need to let him know just how good he’s making you feel is destroying any bit of common sense. 

“Want you to fill me up,” you whine. “Please, Joel, wanna feel it.” 

That’s all it takes. His jaw clenches, his nose scrunching as his eyes squeeze shut. His cock twitches and pulses as he buries himself as deep as he can get before spilling into, filling you with thick, hot ropes of his cum. His hips jerking and stuttering d you clench around him, squeezing and milking him for everything he has while he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his broken, ragged moans against your skin.

"So good,” he whimpers. “Fuckin’ perfect.” 

The praise goes straight between your legs and you wrap your arm around his shoulders, trying to pull him closer. He lifts his head, his palm resting on your cheek as he lifts his head and presses his lips against yours, kissing you languidly. His hips rock back and forth lazily, pushing his cum in as deep as he can get it. You melt into the bed underneath him, the only things keeping you tethered to the earth being your fingers combing through his hair and your legs tightening around his waist.

When he finally pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, and you're both left panting, trying to catch your breath. You listen to the muffled sounds of people downstairs, the movie playing and their drunken voices filtering in through the door, and Joel must be thinking the same thing because he chuckles.

"Well" he says, his thumb rubbing back and forth over your cheekbone, "I don't think anyone heard us."

"You better hope they didn't" you retort, a grin on your face. Joel rolls his eyes. "That's a weird way to say thank you" he teases. You start to laugh, but the sound dies in your throat, morphing to a whimper instead when he starts pulling out his softening cock.

"Joel" you whine, but he doesn't stop. "Joel, please. It's-"

He's not listening, he's too focused on the way his cock looks when he pulls out. The tip slips out of you, and the rest follows, and his eyes widen as he watches a string of thick, sticky cum stretch from the tip of his cock to your cunt. It breaks, falling to your thigh, and he licks his lips. He can't tear his eyes away, watching the way your cunt flutters, and his cum starts to drip out, running down your slit, the obscene sight making Joel's spent cock twitch. 

"Shit" he mutters under his breath, "Ain't that a pretty picture."

He reaches down, dragging a finger through the mess of cum and slick and gathering it on his finger before pushing it back into your cunt. You clench around the digit before he sighs and pulls it back out.

"Gonna be leaking all day tomorrow" he murmurs, almost to himself.

You whimper, the thought of having him dripping out of you all day like that has renewed arousal already seeping into your veins. 

“It’s okay” he assures you, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll take care ya. Clean you up and put my cock back in right where it belongs, how’s that sound, hm?” 

You sigh, nodding, a wave of fatigue washing over you. “Sounds perfect,” you agree. 

You watch as he climbs off of you and starts to move, but a sudden, sharp sound of knuckles knocking on the other side of the bedroom door makes you both freeze. 

“You two are fucking disgusting!” the voice of your cousin calls out, accompanied by the sound of a couple other people giggling and laughing. “Put some goddamn clothes on and get down here!” 

You and Joel exchange glances, his eyes wide and apologetic, his cheeks burning bright red as you give him a look that says I told you so. 

“Alright, alright, we’re coming” he yells back. 

“We’re coming! Oh, yeah we’re coming!” another voice teases, the sound of everyone bursting out laughing quickly follows. 

“We’re never doing that again” Joel mutters and you can’t help but chuckle. 

“Yeah right. Keep telling yourself that”

Thank you for reading!!! Plsss let me know if you enjoyed hehehe

#joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #the last of us #tlou fic #joel miller #pedro pascal characters

[deadsetobsessions]

Danny is desperately running away. Not from a robber, they’re not much of a threat to him anyways, but from a really intense Batman.

“Oh my ancients,” he muttered as he sprinted away from the dude swinging above him. “Can you please go away?! I already paid you back, dude!” Danny raised his voice at the swooping figure above him. He wished he could go ghost, but that would break his cover so fast as a “meta” or whatever.

“Stop running,” Batman landed in front of him, growl reverberating around them.

“Stop chasing me then! It’s bad manners!” And Danny’s from the midwest, so that’s an actual concern.

“How did you find Two-Face?” Batman loomed before stepping back when Danny’s shoulders curled inwards.

“Oh. Is that what this is all about?” Danny huffed. “It was self defense! And… the pun was too good to not, you know? Yeah, no, I had to. Prime opportunity.”

The cowl might hide it but Danny always knew when people are doing that nose pinch of exasperation. It’s a talent he carefully cultivated through shenanigans and puns.

Batman? Definitely inwardly pinching the bridge of his nose.

“How did you find him? Harvey Dent is a dangerous criminal.”

“In my defense,” Danny started, like a teenager caught guiltily shoving the entire cookie jar into his room instead of leaving some for the rest of the family. “He found me first. Well, no, he found the kids first. He started it!”

Batman somehow raised an eyebrow. How the hell does he do that?? The cowl covered the entire upper half of his face! Danny squinted at him. Is Batman a meta?

“Listen, I didn’t start it, but my sister sure as heck taught me how to end it. It’s not my fault Dent couldn’t handle a beat down. And I told you I was gonna pay you back for that one (1) Big Dent! If you wanted cash, you should have said so!”

“Hrm.”

Maybe it was the fancy gear. Maybe it was the pointy head thing. Batman reminded Danny way too much of Vlad and he got the ick.

“Okay, well, good talk, bye!” Danny ducked and ran, faster than he had before.

Batman grappled up and forward, trying to grab him. Danny, with years of dodge training under his belt and impeccable teenage instincts of gtfo, managed to dodge Batman’s reaching hands with a hollered “OPE!”

“Bye! See you never!” Danny ducked behind an alley and turned invisible as Batman swooped past.

When he was sure the vigilante was gone, he slowly faded into the visible spectrum.

“Jeez. Better warn Amy about this. Maybe I should hide in Crime Alley until this blows past.”

——

Gotham’s underbelly had a new tale to sling around their bars that week and a new demographic to be wary of.

The Terrors, the kiddie gang that ran perpendicular to Crime alley, was preyed on by Harvey Dent.

“What do you think you’re doing to them?!”

“Ahhhhhh!!!” Harvey screamed, flailing as a creature of shadows and claws- god damn those sharp ass claws- descended upon him, scarring it just one side but both sides of his very vulnerable face!

“Back the hell off of my kids, you fashion reject!”

As for Harvey… well, he’s developed an aversion to the smell of peanut butter and small children.

——

Batman, hunting down Danny because he’s worried about the endangered meta kid: you left me a Dent.

Danny, because he sees a vigilante bum rushing him: I have no cash! That’s the only way I can pay you back rn!

——

Batman, trying to lecture Danny about safety because he’s a worried batdad:

Danny: ew a rich stalker trying to be my dad!

@tricksterwitchkat can you tell I’ve been thinking about your pun for days? This is for you, thank you so much for that pun, it made my entire week.

#batman #danny phantom #bruce wayne #dc x dp #harvey dent #two face #two face is not having a good time #Danny and his little sister’s kiddie gang #bamf danny phantom #ope being a thing I’ve heard midwesterners say #I think

[charliemwrites]

A Thought™️ that I had yesterday after watching those AITA videos and babbling in the discord:

(This is also babble to be clear. I’ve been writing this throughout the morning so it might be a bit incoherent)

The 141 is shopping for a new team member, someone to round out their four person squad into five. They have a dozen candidates, pick one that looks promising, and transfer him over under the military equivalent of “probationary” status.

Pretty quickly they decide his personality alone might not make him a good fit but whatever, if he’s good at his job, they’ll suck it up. The “alpha male” posturing bullshit is kind of amusing in the meantime at least.

Well, first mission comes and goes. The guy isn’t too bad, honestly — apart from almost picking a fight with Gaz. Skills-wise he’s as advertised, so he gets to stay a bit longer while the 141 decides if they can stand him.

Post successful mission, though, they go out for drinks at the guy’s insistence. He invites his girlfriend — who he dragged along with him — to the bar to meet his new squad. (Because he thinks there’s no way they’re not making him a permanent teammate.)

And the 141 may be barely tolerant of him, but they decide almost instantly that they adore his girlfriend. She’s incredibly charming and bubbly, doesn’t even blink at Ghost’s mask. One of the first things she does is thank them for the opportunity they’re giving her boyfriend and for keeping him alive.

Which is about the time the real issue starts.

The boyfriend says some rubbish about “an alpha doesn’t need protecting, he does the protecting. He looks out for his pack.”

And you smile a bit awkwardly, looking embarrassed, and try to usher the conversation along.

It doesn’t take long for him to quickly fall out of what little favor he accrued. You’re a bright spot in their group, laughing and chatting with them all like you’ve known them for years. Incredibly sensitive to asking any hard questions and sort of forcing the conversation through the weird patches where your boyfriend interjects with some inane comment.

Eventually, your boyfriend gets sick of your chattering and tells you to fetch them more drinks. Soap instantly sits up, saying you don’t have to do that, but you gently wave him off. Chirp that you don’t mind doing it as a thank you for their service, and weave into the crowd.

The table goes uncomfortable quiet — apart from your boyfriend, who makes some ghastly comment about how you have a pretty face but an annoying laugh. When you get back, drinks expertly balanced in your hands, Ghost goes out of his way to drop puns that get you giggling like mad.

As the night ticks later, and your boyfriend gets drunker, he reaches the point you always dread.

“Garrick, le’s arm wrestle.”

“Baby, I don’t think that’s…”

“This is between us men.”

You groan a bit and sit back. Gaz looks befuddled but shrugs and agrees. It’s not even a contest; your boyfriend’s arm is flat to the table in all of ten seconds. Flustered, your boyfriend demands a rematch. And when he loses again, scoffs and demands a go with Soap.

You practically sink deeper and deeper into your seat before the secondhand embarrassment starts to weigh and you have to excuse yourself to the restroom. When you get back, the impromptu arm wrestling seems to be over, though your boyfriend is sulking in his corner of the booth.

When you gingerly slide back in, Price nudges you with his calf.

“Would you like a go, luv?”

You grin and shake your head. “I don’t fancy a broken wrist, Captain.”

“C’mon luv, you might surprise yourself,” he teases and you can’t resist the playful glint in his eye.

So you lock your thumb around his, elbow on the table, and push. And his arm incrementally goes down… down… down…

“Well would you look at that,” he muses.

You burst into laughter, flattered and endeared by his indulgence.

“That tough, eh?” Soap muses, arching an eyebrow. “Let’s see it, then.”

So you roll your eyes, fully expecting to get trounced. But just like with Price, he starts to relent when you put up resistance, making a show of straining and panting as he “loses.” When you’ve won, you finally play into the joke.

“Serves you right,” you tease.

By your side, you hear your boyfriend huff derisively. “Oh, come on.”

Before your fun can be ruined, though, Ghost is offering you his hand, dark eyes sparkling. You bite your lip, but it doesn’t hide your grin as you accept the unspoken challenge. His hand is huge around yours, but shockingly gentle. He goes down easiest of all, whistling in amazement.

“Look’it that, you’re a pro,” he says, “think we should all be buying you a drink.”

“She doesn’t drink,” your boyfriend interjects.

You huff and settle back into the booth. “Maybe some other time, Lieutenant Riley?”

“Count on it.”

You get into an argument with your boyfriend that night. He thinks you were “challenging his dominance” and “stirring the pot,” trying to sew discord and strife amongst the men to get them fighting over you. He says something about being the alpha of the group and that he would win but it’s insulting to him as your “provider” that you would question his authority.

He’s tipsy as he says it though, working himself up. You just follow the usual routine of soothing, reassuring, simpering — and then considering leaving when he’s finally asleep. But you’re far from home, don’t have the means to leave, and besides, you won’t be finding any support from your family on this front so…

Well, it’s not so bad, you remind yourself. He can be an asshole, but so can you and it takes two to fight. Besides, he only gets really bad when he’s been drinking and that’s only once a week? 1 out of 7 isn’t a bad ratio.

—

The 141 pretty much collectively decide that they adore you though. You get regularly invited to team outings, wherein your boyfriend keeps challenging (and losing) arm wrestling, while the boys coax you into “winning.”

They’ve also become rather adamant that you don’t bring them drinks anymore.

“You’re not our personal beer wench, yeah? We’re able to get our own pints,” Gaz soothes.

Your boyfriend chuckles and shakes his head, imparts his “wisdom” that it’s a female’s job to serve her man and his friends. As a sign of respect or something. You know it’s not an argument worth having and just sip at your drink in silence.

But you love going out with them. Love knowing the men keeping your boyfriend alive and they’re a good bunch. Respectful and funny and disciplined — you’re kind of hoping they snap your boyfriend out of this weird “alpha male” phase he’s been going through. On the other hand, you’re thrilled to be making something like friends. Sure, your boyfriend has made it clear that the 141 are his friends, but they’re always so conscious of keeping you involved and comfortable.

Then one night your boyfriend mentions what a “good little cook” you are and that instantly has all the boys perking up. Smiling, you offer to host during the Saturday League matches. They gleefully accept over your boyfriend’s protests about other men in his territory or something like that.

But when they do come over they’re horrified by the unspoken expectations. You tell them to sit, that you’ll bring them all drinks, with snacks on the way. They’ll be having none of it.

Ghost helps you with drinks, Gaz chops the veggies for snacks (and dinner). Soap pops in to keep you company while you babysit simmering pots. Price helps to tidy as you go, despite you’re fussing that he really doesn’t need to, he should be enjoying the games!

They end up spending more time with you in the kitchen than out in the den with their own teammate. You barely notice, swept up in the busy currents of playing hostess. When your boyfriend shouts that he needs another beer, you come back to find Price getting plates and utensils for dinner. It’s so thoughtful you could cry.

Even worse is when they help you clean up afterwards. Each of them taking and clearing their own plates. Soap on washing big dishes, Gaz on drying. Ghost is packing up leftovers. Price is turning over the dishwasher, asking you where dishes go and tutting when you insist you should be helping.

All the while, your boyfriend stands in the doorway telling you all the ways you could improve the meal next time. And how you definitely ate too much for your body size, etc.

He only stops when Price makes a pointed comment about standing around looking pretty.

When they leave, they each sweep you up in a hug and drop a kiss on your cheek, praising your home and cooking and hosting. Soap promises that he’ll get you a little souvenir on their next mission as a thank you.

And sure enough, three weeks later, the boys are coming by. Except your boyfriend is nowhere to be found — out with some other guys from the base that he says he hit it off with. The 141 insist that he agreed to a football watch again, the empty headed muppet.

And of course you’re not going to turn them away! They’ve brought you flowers, a little matryoshka set from their last mission, chocolates and wine. Not one of them is empty handed.

“Do you even like the game?” Gaz asks as you put it on.

“My favorite team isn’t playing until tomorrow but I don’t mind watching,” you answer, shrugging.

But somehow no football is watched at all. Instead they convince you to tell them your top three favorite movies, then claim none of them have ever seen any of them and they have to watch all of them.

Which is how your boyfriend finds his whole team enjoying a little movie marathon with you. You’re on the ground with Johnny (it’s Johnny now, for you) doing his eyebrows. Gaz is braiding your hair. Ghost (Simon) is sharing a bowl of candies with you. You’re sat against Price’s shins, the captain sitting in your boyfriend’s chair, lounging like a king.

When you welcome him back, telling him the boys are staying the night, he tries to throw a fit about it. How dare you let four strange men stay alone with you?! You calmly remind him that he promised he’d be home by 11 and it’s already nearly 1. And besides, he trusts them with his life, you’re allowed to trust them to be polite in your own home.

With all four of his teammates watching, tense and nearly hostile, he mutters something about being tired and storms off to bed. You end up falling asleep on the couch with ghost despite yourself.

And your boyfriend becomes absolutely haunted by his team’s (is it even his team? It feels more like yours!) affection for you.

They always invite you out even if he doesn’t plan to invite you. (When did you get any of their numbers?! Never mind Ghost’s. He doesn’t even have Ghost’s number.)

They stop by the flat constantly, sometimes dropping in. Other times staying for hours. Soap tells him that they’re all one big family; that includes you. (“Alright then why don’t we go hang out with one of your girlfriends?!” He had an actual nightmare about the laughter that gets him.)

And the fucking gifts. It’s not just soap bringing you things anymore. It’s all of them. Magnets, mugs, sweets, pretty rocks. Just garbage to your boyfriend but you treat it all like treasure. They’ve even got you sending them on hunts for specific things. Something blue, something with nuts, something with the flag.

Then there’s the base.

They bring you on one day — Price picks you up, the boys greet you at the barracks with coffee and breakfast. You’re put into a big 141 hoodie that says “Riley” on the back and toured around. You’re supposed to be “surprising” your boyfriend, but he’s busy with recruits and generally seems uninterested in being around you.

Not to worry though, the 141 is happy to show you a good time around base! Gaz and Johnny walk you through one of the obstacle courses, Simon lets you sit on his back for pushups during the last of his workout. Price takes you to the range and shows you the basics of shooting, then lets you catnap through the adrenaline drop in his office.

Your boyfriend only bothers to find you when Johnny and Simon are teaching you basic self-defense. Your boyfriend scoffs that you’re plenty protected by him, but you point out that he’s away too often to be of any real help — at which point Johnny tags you and bolts before your boyfriend can get all up in arms.

You only recognize that this little hurdle in your relationship has become a chasm when something happens. A big argument with your parents over the phone — you barely even remember what about. But instead of calling your boyfriend afterwards, your first call is to Gaz. (Because you know he’s the most likely to be free and paying attention to his phone.) You’re almost shocked when he picks up on the second ring. Your boyfriend has never answered on the first call.

When you try to explain through poorly-restrained tears, he coos at you to find a warm coffee shop and that they’ll be right there. “They” ends up being him and Johnny, since Simon and Price are locked up in an important meeting. They buy you hot chocolate and pastries while you vent to them, and end up leaving feeling better for once.

But you can’t break up with your boyfriend. Because if you do, the 141 will surely stop hanging out with you, and you value their company enough to put up with it.

At least until you come home one day to find all your little gifts gone. When you ask through a tight throat where everything is, your boyfriend says he was just making space. That you’ve been complaining that you two need a bigger flat, but now he’s solved the problem without wasting money.

You actually raise your voice for once, throwing an entire fit because this. This is the last straw. You storm into your bedroom, slam and lock the door, and call the 141.

A small part of you expects they’ll take his side or something. But nope. Simon soothes you on the other end, that the whole squad will be there in fifteen and to pack your stuff.

You do so while Price takes over and keeps you level. Reminds you of essentials to pack and explains that you’ll be coming to stay at his place, since he’s got off-base housing. It’ll be quiet and cozy and safe while you recover.

Five minutes away, they promise to be right there and end the call.

You could absolutely scream when your boyfriend — ex boyfriend — starts banging on the door. Demanding that you open the door to him. That you’re being over dramatic and blowing everything out of proportion. Using the “your emotional and irrational” line that you’ve heard a thousand times and are just about sick of.

Your heart stutters with relief when you hear the knocking at the apartment door, confused silence as your ex goes to see who it is. You take that moment to slip out, packed suitcase in hand.

You startle a bit at some commotion, round the corner to see your ex’s shirt bunched up in Johnny’s fists, looking ready kill him. No one seems inclined to pull him away; neither are you.

“How are you holding up, luv?” Gaz asks gently as Simon takes your bag.

“Been better,” you admit, sniffling as Price wraps you up in a hug.

“It was just things, luv,” he soothes, “we’ll get you a million more, if you like.”

You pull back to give him a miserable look. “But they were my things and they didn’t have to go anywhere. He just threw them out.”

Johnny snarls something out, but Gaz is already ushering you out the door. You tell your family about the break up through text and then shut off your phone, bundled into the backseat of an SUV with Gaz in the backseat. Price is in the front, all of you waiting for Simon and Johnny to come down.

“What now?” you ask quietly.

“Well, about time we cut that knob loose,” Price muses. “But that’s not your problem anymore.”

“Oh…

“And you, luv.” He looks at you through the rear view. “You get whatever you want.”

#cod #thoughts™️ #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #polycule #poly 141 #misters steal your girl #get it? misters plural. because they all steal that girl

[lucauali]

princess treatment - michael kaiser

warning: suggestive but not fully nsfw, kissing, sensual touching, groping, kinda bratty attitude but mostly in a playful way, reader wears a dress and heels

this is very loosely inspired by that one tik tok trend about having a princess attitude and it made me think of him <3

205k likes, 30k comments, and 1.7mil views in less than three hours. 

When Michael posted the tik tok featuring you as his one and only, you knew it would probably garner some attention, but not this much. Not only was it a hard launch for your relationship, it also showed bits of pieces of what it was like to be Michael Kaiser’s partner:

-

It was late into the night and all you could think about was satisfying your midnight cravings. 

You got out of bed and slipped on some shorts and a random shirt that you found in Michael’s closet. The plan was to silently leave the apartment and go grab the food you craved before Michael could notice your absence. Said plan, however, fell through as soon as you grabbed the door knob of the bedroom. 

“Mein Liebchen, where are you going?” Michael’s groggy voice interrupted you. The German sat up as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He pat the empty space next to him and urged you to go back to him. 

You felt bad for waking him up, especially when he looked so sweet and precious in his tired state, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to wake you up. Go back to sleep, I’m gonna run out at get a snack. I’ll be back soon.” 

You tried to leave again, but you heard the sheets shuffling on the bed. Michael was walking towards you with his eyes barely open. 

“I’ll drive you. Wanna stay with you.” He tried reaching for you hand and finally found it after a few attempts due to the lack of light in the room. You tried to reassure him that you could manage by yourself and he needed to rest, but he insisted on going with you. 

This led to you being in the passenger seat of Michael’s Porsche as he drove to the closest McDonald’s. His hand was caressing your bare thigh as you both hummed along to whatever song was playing on the radio. 

Only Michael would take you to McDonald’s to satiate your spicy nugget craving in the middle of the night. 

-

After another successful victory for Bastard Munchen, Michael wanted to take you out to a fancy dinner. 

“Are you sure you don’t wanna go to the after party? I don’t want to take away you away from your team and ruin the post-game excitement.” Michael simply huffed at the inquiry as he adjusted the rolled up sleeves of his button down dress shirt. 

“Yes, I’m sure. They’re probably just going to the club. After all, they don’t have an angel of a partner waiting for them at home like I do.” Michael winked at you and laughed as you rolled your eyes at his last statement. 

You walked over to the assortment of clothes you had as options for tonight, “okay fine, but don’t complain when you get bombarded with texts and calls from Ness and the others begging for you to join them.” 

Michael completely ignored your statement and stood flush to your back, examining your options. 

“Wear the red dress. The one with the slit.” His hands lay on your hips and slowly rubbed up and down your sides. 

“Since you’re begging for me to wear it, I guess I have to.” You let out an exaggerate, but amused sigh as you felt Michael smile against the back of your neck. You slipped into the sleek dress with a pair of heels and applied makeup as quickly as possible. All the while, Michael wouldn’t let you go. Even as you were applying your favorite lip combo, he insisted you do so while sitting on his lap. His tattooed hand grazed tour thigh that was exposed by the slit. 

“On second thought, let’s just stay here.” The sheer audacity to say that as you were getting ready made you side eye the blond through the mirror of your vanity. 

Michael giggled as you simply ignored his suggestion, “I’m kidding, Meine Prinzessin, don’t worry. As much as I would like to keep you here for my eyes only, I want to show you off as much as I can.” He kissed the nape of your neck. You knew that his club manager’s request to keep your relationship a secret was starting to get to him. He had done well to keep it low key for the past year and seven months. 

You turned around so you could see him and  grasped at his pouty cheeks. It was a sight that you hoped only you would ever behold. Placing a gentle kiss on his pouted lips, you leaned your forehead against his. Michael closed his eyes and just basked in your presence and warmth. After a few minutes, he suddenly lifted you up bridal style and made his way to the front door. You giggled as he carried you all the way to the Porsche. 

You’re the only person in the world that Michael would choose to celebrate with in such an intimate way. 

-

Even as you scrolled through all the comments from the video, the buzzing didn’t cease. Thus, your beloved woke up from his midday nap, it’s for his much needed beauty sleep, he claims. Michael lifted his head from your stomach with his eyes closed, as he tends to do. His arms that surround your middle section squeezed just a tad tighter as he groaned and grumbled.

“What are you looking at? Put that down and nap with me.” You ignored his demand and simply turned your phone towards him. It took him a few seconds to adjust his eyes before he started to absorb what was in front of him. The smug grin on his face was expected due to the comments you saw that praised him as ‘god-tier’ boyfriend material. As fast as his smile appeared, it vanished.

Michael abruptly sat up with a mortified look on his face, “excuse me?! Did you see this? User ‘iluvkais3r’ said that you should leave me!” You actually didn’t see that comment, but it still made you let out a full belly laugh. Michael scoffed and pushed his face back into your stomach while grumbling incoherent words. Your hand found its place in his hair and you scratch his scalp. After a few minutes, you felt his breathing pattern even back out. Putting your phone down, you chose to join him in his state of slumber.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #michael kaiser #michael kaiser x reader #kaiser x reader

[huboi]

. SOFTY | 🎀

╰┈➤ summary; jjk men being big softies for you <3

╰┈➤ includes; gn! reader, possibly ooc characters, pure heart melting fluff, mentions of eating and drinking

╰┈➤ a/n; yes I’m aware I haven’t posted in years, I’ve been in a writers block for so long bro😭

GOJO SATORU

man’s already a huge softie, very smitten with you

even before you started dating he was all over you like an overexcited puppy when it’s owner comes back from work

when you guys started dating, nothing really changed

read as; gojo somehow managed to become even more clingy

LOVES PDA

dw tho, if you don’t like pda then he’ll respect that, as long as you guys can cuddle when you’re in private he won’t complain

if you are comfortable with PDA, prepare to hold hands 25/8

also he loves cuddles

kisses are a huge must, wether they’re short and sweet or long and spicy

GETO SUGURU

he doesn’t act very happy when you’re not around

only time when he’s happy when you’re not around is if his girls are there

when he comes back from his shenanigans he just snuggles you

will keep cuddling you even if you need the toilet

“suguru im gonna piss myself istg” “no you’re not”

even though you are a sorcerer, he wishes to keep you away from his sorcerer shenanigans

he doesn’t want you seeing his ‘ugly side’ to say the least

it’s as if a switch goes off in his brain when you come into the picture

“I will kill every non sorcerer there is😡😡😡” “hi sugu poo😙” “hi baby🥰🥰🥰”

KENTO NANAMI

he’s a serious guy, and so when he sees you, he just low key switches personalities for a sec

“hi honey, you ok? have you eaten, drank some water….” he tends to ask you these questions a lot, but dw he’s just concerned for your health

no PDA, the closest you’ll convince him to do is hand holding

in the privacy of your home, he’s a huge snuggle bug (you didn’t hear this from me)

loves kissing your face, he doesn’t know why, it just comforts him

one time you interrupted his time with yuji, giving him his lunch as he forgot it, and he, surprisingly, ended up kissing you on the cheek

yuji was stunned (the boy was too stunned to speak)

SUKUNA RYOMEN

when people think of the sukuna, they think of homicide, murder and all things negative

what people don’t see, is that when his s/o wants a certain food, he’ll get them they’re food no matter the cost

doesn’t matter if you want something fancy or simple, he’s gonna get it (you have to plead with him to not kill anyone)

no promises though (he ends up simply paying for it)

low key begs you for hugs, when you point this out he claims he ‘demands’ you for hugs and that he never begs… yeah right

you are the most protected person out there, sorcerer or not

you claim he reminds you of a tiger, but he acts like a simple house cat when you’re in the picture

he disagrees with a huff and arms crossed against his (phat titties) chest

you notice a slight blush on his cheeks, but you don’t say anything

© content belongs to @huboi on tumblr, DO NOT REPOST ON ANY SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORMS WHATSOEVER

#ash.writes #jjk x reader #jjk x gn reader #jjk headcanons #jjk fluff #jjk gojo satoru #jjk geto suguru #jjk kento nanami #jjk sukuna ryomen #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x gn reader #gojo satoru headcanons #gojo satoru fluff #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x gn reader #geto suguru headcanons #geto suguru fluff #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x gn reader #kento nanami headcanons #kento nanami fluff #sukuna x reader #sukuna x gn reader #sukuna fluff #sukuna headcanons #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x gn reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen headcanons

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Practice On Me — Part Ten — Azriel x Reader

Summary: Poor Rhys gets cockblocked. Cassian and Azriel come to blows. Realisations dawn on Az that he doesn’t know what to do with. Kaeda’s not very good with rejection. Reader receives some unexpected support.

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: Depictions of violence and injury.

The male’s hand has found pride of place in Rhysand’s lap.

Currently, it sits on his thigh, but the temptation to inch it closer — closer — to that sweet prize between his legs is a lusty, burgeoning one.

A shame, truly, that they’re currently fully clothed and in the middle of the busy mead hall.

Rhys chews and swallows a mouthful of his dinner, a smirk toying with his lips as he glances at his most recent sexual conquest.

There’s enough heat in that gaze to set the whole of Windhaven blazing.

Zakai is a very pretty male, indeed, with rich dark skin and thick, long eyelashes for days. His tempting appearance is most certainly exacerbating this current haze of lust that has taken over him as of late, driven by a preference for males. It changes every now and then. Sometimes he favours males, other times he favours females.

Whatever takes his fancy, there’s always somebody to warm his bed.

“I do believe,” the future High Lord purrs, “that you’re trying to distract me from my dinner.”

Zakai’s full lips kick up into a smirk. “Maybe I am.”

“How terrible.” He leans in closer. “Depriving me of a nutritional meal. What of my sustenance?”

Zakai also leans in. “I have something else you can wrap that pretty mouth around. I think you’ll find it to be more than adequate.” So boldly, as if no one else is around, he snaps out and drags Rhys’s bottom lip between his teeth.

Rhys makes a low noise, food all but forgotten—

But a kiss never comes to fruition as they’re shoved apart, and Cassian is slotting himself between them. “Your mother is here.” He steals Rhys’s plate. “Did you know?”

Rhys tamps down on the urge to slam his face into that food. “I would hope so, considering it was I who flew in with her.”

Cass hums. “We’ve been banished from the house for the time being.” He turns to Zakai. “Rhys will have to suck your dick elsewhere. May I suggest the pillory? He could even tie you up. Would be very kinky—”

“Banished?” Rhys quickly interrupts with a frown. “Why? Is my mother alright?”

“Roza’s fine. It’s Y/N. They’re having a serious talk.”

“About what?”

“Serious stuff, I guess.”

Cassian can be really, really frustrating sometimes.

Rhys shoots him a look that communicates precisely that. “What serious stuff? What did they say?”

“Roza called it girl talk.” Cass takes another huge bite, chews — and pauses in thought, “Do you think Y/N has been acting a little strange recently? Not her usual self.”

In all honesty, Rhys regrets not being around more, with all Y/N has had to contend with as of late. But even with him flitting between Windhaven and Velaris, he’s noticed a change.

A change amongst everyone, really. Something is…off.

“She has a lot going on. It’s hardly surprising.” He says, studying Cassian — the male is still in deep thought. “But I think there’s more than she’s letting on. I thought you would know more than I do, considering you’re around her more.”

Cassian says nothing. He chews and chews like he can no longer taste the food in his mouth, and he’s just giving it absolutely anything to do other than speak. Even Zakai shoots Rhys a look that says he’s not buying it.

“Shall I give you two some space to talk?” Rhys’s lover suggests.

Rhys dips his chin in gratitude. Makes sure that a little bit of heat still swims in his eyes — a suggestion of what’s to come, when he’s finished here. “I’ll come find you.” He promises.

Zakai winks. “I’ll be waiting by the pillory.” And with a shared laugh, he’s standing and strolling away.

Rhys turns back to Cass. He’s at least swallowed the mouthful of food, but there’s still a faraway look in his eyes. “What is it you’re thinking so hard about?”

Cassian just chews his bottom lip.

“Cass.” He gives a little kick to his leg. “If there’s something you know about Y/N—”

“I think I may have fucked up. Badly.” Finally, his friend turns to him. The severity on his face is…rare. Worrying. “Maybe I should have told you this before now, I don’t know. But…you see…Y/N and I…we—”

There’s no chance for him to complete the sentence.

Not as the mead hall’s huge wooden doors burst open, loudly and abruptly enough that conversation just ceases. Everyone turns. Azriel looms in the doorway.

He only becomes more of an intimidating figure as he gets older — anyone would be an idiot not to recognise that. But there’s something about him right now, like this, that has even the most steeled Illyrian warriors eyeing him cautiously.

Though his hair is wet-through from the snow, he’s not at all dressed for the cold weather. The casual, tight-fitting shirt and breeches will do very little to protect him from the brutal temperatures, and his tan skin is already pinkened where the icy air has bitten it.

But his eyes — his eyes are a blazing, churning inferno.

He looks huge in the doorway. Bigger than he ever has. His chest falls and rises heavily, and his fists clench at his sides. The firm set of his jaw is a warning. He hasn’t come here to play.

His boots thud harshly against the wooden floor as he storms in, and everyone watches, waits to see who the shadowsinger has a problem with, and what he’s going to do about it. He appears to have no weapons on him — a rare sight that only adds to the rugged, impulsive nature of how he looks right now. Like he forgot all else in his pursuit to come here.

What nobody is expecting is the way his dark, golden gaze zeroes in on Cassian. And the love that usually sits on Azriel’s face when looking at his brother has been replaced with something infinitely colder. Harsher. Angrier.

Dangerous.

Rhysand glances between them, recognising very quickly that something has occurred in his absence. He slowly rises from his seat.

“Az?” He says calmly. “You alright?”

No.

No, Azriel is not alright.

Everyone knows it. Cassian especially.

He’s staring back at his friend, and a thousand realisations pelt him that he genuinely did not consider before now. He’s got a terrible habit of acting first and thinking later. Of not looking at the bigger picture and considering every single person that might get hurt as a result of his actions. He doesn’t mean to be so thoughtless or impulsive. He’s gradually learning.

But as he drinks in the sight of Azriel, he somehow knows the source of his rage without it needing to be said. It never occurred to him before, but it does now.

Both he and Rhys have secretly speculated, over the years, whether something more might grow from the loving friendship between Azriel and Y/N. But time passed, and nothing came of it, and—and—

And with Kaeda on the scene, Cassian had assumed that no romance would be blossoming after all.

But that didn’t mean there weren’t still feelings there. Complicated feelings.

And in that moment, as Azriel stops at the table, the true weight of Cassian’s actions strikes him like a bolt of lightning.

He clears his throat, taking in the sight of him. Even his shadows are staying out of this. “Az—”

“Get up.” Azriel demands fiercely.

“I don’t know what you’ve been told—”

“I will not tell you twice, Cassian.” The shadowsinger’s eyes darken. “Get. The fuck. Up.”

Every single person is watching — waiting. Cassian doesn’t move.

And then he says quietly, “No.”

It’s not that he has any problem getting in a punch up with either of his brothers — Cauldron knows, it’s happened more times than any of them care to remember, where they’ve roughed each other up and resolved things quickly after. It’s just a method of Illyrian affection.

But this isn’t like that. This is hugely, frighteningly different.

This is serious.

Cassian is realising very quickly that he fucked up — not necessarily in the act, itself, of having sex with Y/N. They are both free, consenting adults, after all.

But if he’s guilty of anything, it’s of not thinking about who he might hurt with his decisions. And if he’d bothered to stop and think that night in the kitchen, he’d have known damn well that him having such relations with Y/N would be upsetting for Azriel. At the very least, Cass should have spoken to him first.

And that’s what he wants to do, now. Not fight. Not draw blood and leave bruises. Just…talk. Explain himself. Make it clear that he would never, ever intentionally hurt Az.

“I’m not fighting you.” He says, far quieter than his usual Cassian volume. “We should talk—”

Azriel’s lunging across the table and nipping that suggestion right in the bud. His fist goes flying so hard into Cassian’s jaw that his head snaps back. He barely has a chance to right himself before Az is throwing himself at him fully and knocking him to the floor.

“What the fuck is going on?” Rhys snaps, but neither of them seems to hear, and then the noise is picking up in the room and people are rising from their seats to get a closer look at the fight. Encouraging them with rowdy shouts.

This is no competitive brawl between friends. Through the gathering people, fists are swinging and blood is flying all over the place. Azriel is pummelling Cassian’s face over and over, and choked, angry words are leaving him as he does.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?!” The shadowsinger seethes, throwing another punch. “You know—” Punch. “Know how I feel—” Punch. “And you still had to go and do it.”

Too much is happening at once for Rhys to put the pieces together. All he knows is that this is bad. All he can do is watch.

And Cassian is barely fighting back. He’s not interested in returning the punches. He just wants to put a stop to this.

“You knew. I know you knew.” Az then grabs him by the collar of his tunic, and he’s lifting him and slamming him back down against the floor, so hard that the whoosh of air that leaves Cassian can be heard across the hall. “Fuck. You. Cassian. Fuck you—”

“You—” Cass coughs blood at him. “You had Kaeda—”

“Piece of shit—”

“Perhaps…if you hadn’t been…so blinded by your fucking lust…forgot all about Y/N—”

Oh, that’s entirely the wrong thing to say.

A snarl is leaving Az, or maybe Cass, or perhaps both of them at the same time.

What happened leading up to this point was mere child’s play.

The two of them utterly lose it, and Cassian forgets all about talking and allows his temper to take over, and the real fight begins. Rhys is shoved back, stunned, as people try to push closer. All he can hear is the sound of his friends’ punches landing on each other. With more blood drawn, the noise becomes a sickly, wet one that tells him this is getting out of hand.

He barges his way through people, trying to get to the centre of the fray, but a noise is stopping him in his tracks.

“HEY!”

Somehow, his mother’s voice is loud enough, commanding enough, to reach every corner of the mead hall and wash over each and every occupant. Something about the raw order in her voice has everyone stopping. Quietening.

Even Cassian and Azriel cease their fighting. But they’re still exchanging harsh words that are compromised through split lips and mouthfuls of blood.

“Fucking vile—”

“I’m—sorry—Az—sorry—”

“That is enough.” Roza storms into the hall, a hand resting on her belly. She’s well and truly displaying the façade of the High Lord’s mate; someone not to be argued with. “Stand aside at once.”

If it weren’t for the serious nature of the situation, there might be something amusing about seeing honed Illyrian males slink back like threatened animals. But Rhys can only watch as they back away from Roza and lope back to their seats.

“Mother.” He turns to her, shaking his head in disbelief. “I have no idea what’s going on—”

Roza holds a hand up, cutting him off. She turns to Azriel and Cassian, who are now just staring at each other like sworn enemies.

“Off the fucking ground now.” She snaps.

Azriel’s eyes shutter. He’s breathing heavily. He hesitates, wants to go against the order.

But even through the red mist of anger, he respects Roza too much to do that.

Heaving a deep breath, he pushes off Cassian. Rises to his feet.

Roza jerks her chin at Cass. “Help him up.”

Azriel makes an incredulous sound. “He can get up himself—”

“Help him the fuck up, Azriel, before I bash your damn heads together.”

Az clenches his jaw. It might be childish that he refuses to look at Cassian as he juts a hand out, but he doesn’t fucking care. Nor does he care that he puts the bare minimum of strength into hauling him up off the floor.

As soon as Cass is on his feet, he’s shoving Azriel away from him.

“There are so many things I could say to you idiots right now.” Roza snaps. “But I’m way too pregnant for this shit, and I want to sit down.” She angles herself to Azriel. “You — go spend the night at the dormitories. Clean yourself up and calm down.” She turns back to Cassian, to Rhys. “The two of you are coming back to the cottage with me. I don’t give a shit about who said or did what. Don’t want to hear a peep out of any of you. Do I make myself clear?”

This is just a teensy bit humiliating — the three of them bowing their heads while they receive a scolding in front of their fellow Illyrians. But they’re not stupid enough to argue it.

They are stupid enough not to respond, though, and that only pisses Roza off more.

“Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear.” She thunders.

“Yes.” All three males intone.

“Good.” She steps back, nods at Azriel. “You first. Go. Dormitories. Now.”

Azriel sends one last, scathing glance at Cassian before stalking off. He limps out of the doors and into the snow — a fact that leaves Cassian feeling just a little smug.

“Get that damn look off your face, Cassian.” Roza narrows her eyes at him, and he quickly corrects himself. “And get moving. If you don’t get your asses back to the cottage this instant, I’m locking you out. Understood?”

Cassian says, “Yes, Roza.”

Rhys mumbles, “Didn’t even do anything.”

Roza looks at him like she wants to throttle him. And that’s enough for him to straighten himself out and offer his pregnant mother his arm. She takes it silently. Cassian moves to her other side.

“When we get back,” she says quietly, “the two of you better start explaining what the fuck has been going on in my absence.”

Neither males are exactly sure.

But they’re both wise enough not to say that.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The steaming bath is supposed to soothe you, but it does not. Nothing can. Not even Rhys’s sweater that’s currently swallowing you up and encasing you in his scent.

And when you traipse down the worn wooden staircase at the first sound of voices, you feel like crying all over again. You hope for Azriel — hope he’s come back, willing to hear you out. But stepping into the living area, that tiny shred of hope evaporates.

Conversation ceases, and Rhys and Cassian are looking up at you from their respective spots on the couch. Roza is pottering around the kitchen.

At the first glimpse of Cass, your heart drops.

It’s not that you’re unused to seeing him roughed up, but this is…this is different. He’s clearly not riding on the wave of his normal post-brawl adrenaline. He looks downtrodden, hurt — both physically and emotionally.

Blood streaks from his face. He’s cut and bruised in numerous places. A gnarly black eye is beginning to show itself.

He finds interest in his hands. Can’t seem to bear looking at you.

“What—” Is all you’re able to gasp out, before you’re hurrying over, perching yourself on the coffee table before your two friends. You reach out. “Cass…what—”

“Take a wild guess.” He mutters, still not looking at you.

You angle yourself towards Rhys, looking for an answer. And the fact that you can’t read his expression…it threatens to cut you open.

 “I don’t have a clue what’s going on.” He says with a shrug. “Clearly, nobody tells me anything.”

“Azriel did this.” You say quietly. It’s not a question.

“Yes. He did. Turned up at the mead hall and absolutely lost it.” Rhysand’s violet eyes flick between you and Cass. “And I’m guessing it has something to do with the two of you. Care to share?”

Your eyes shutter, because having to speak it aloud again might finish you off. But you suppose the worst has already happened. Azriel knows. You might as well share the truth with Rhys, also, and show him what a wretch you are.

You open your mouth, and unplanned words leave you in a rasp, “I shouldn’t have done it.”

Rhys studies you. “Done what?”

“We slept together.” Cassian finally speaks, wiping a strip of blood from his chin. “Y/N and I.”

You can’t stop your eyes roving over to Roza in the kitchen. Even though she already knows, a bolt of shame hits you all over again that she has to be present for this. Not only does she have far more pressing matters to worry about, but you simply cannot bear it — of all people you’d hate to let down, it’s her.

And she may have her back to you as she busies herself in the kitchen, but you know damn well she’s listening to every word.

Rhysand purses his lips, and he sits back, folding his arms. “Why?

“It just happened.” Cass shrugs. “Night we went to Fenlaros. Y/N was upset after the fight broke out, and I was helping her, and it just…happened. I didn’t think there would be a problem, given that neither of us are tied to anyone, but apparently it is a problem. Honestly, Azriel has no damn right. He’s been busy with Kaeda for months—”

“Yeah, Cass, but we also know it’s not a straightforward situation.” Violet eyes dance over to you. Back to Cassian. “Surely you must have known that he—”

“No, I didn’t, because like I said,” Cassian snaps, “he has no fucking right. What reason does he have to be angry with either of us? We don’t owe him shit. Y/N is a grown female. If she wants to fuck any one of us, that’s entirely her choice. It isn’t for him to dictate—”

“I don’t disagree, but—”

“Not to mention the fact that he’s passing these judgements from his cushy little high horse that he’s been fucking Kaeda atop of. I should have fucking given him hell back there, but I didn’t—”

“There’s more to it than that.” You cut in, every word slicing at you. You lower your gaze as the two males turn to you. “There’s…there’s more to it than you realise.”

Cass eyes you. And usually, he would reassure you — tell you not to put the blame on yourself.

He doesn’t.

He knows, just from looking at you, that he can’t.

He grits out through his teeth, “What.”

“Az has a right to be angry.” Your hands shake as you drag them over your face. Your eyes are red raw and sore from all the crying you’ve already done. “Not at you, though, Cass. It’s me. I…I’ve been so stupid.”

“Stupid how?”

“Azriel and I were engaging in sexual stuff, too. Okay?” The admission comes barrelling out of you. “It wasn’t planned. He asked me for…for some help. With his confidence. One thing led to another, and he and I were doing certain things. We didn’t sleep together, but we did other stuff. And it was all intended to help him approach such things with more confidence, but then I realised I wanted more, but he was interested in Kaeda, and I was upset and jealous and I just…I’m sorry. To both of you. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Utter silence.

Your friends stare at you. Even Roza turns around.

You think you’d prefer to be shouted at rather than this. They’re looking at you like…like they don’t know what to do with you, say to you, anymore.

And then Cassian laughs. Not humorously, but a bitter, soured laugh. He shakes his head. “So, what you’re saying was that you used me to forget about your feelings for Az?”

“No.” You shake your head. “I…it wasn’t like that. Not intentionally. You and I both know that what happened between us was impulsive…and unplanned…and it didn’t mean anything. It just happened—”

“Because you were upset about what happened in Fenlaros! You instigated the kiss! Am I to believe it was a coincidence that you did so after Azriel had just put on some valiant display of starting a fight over Kaeda?”

“Cassian.” Rhys warns quietly. “Don’t shout at her.”

“I told you,” Your voice is beginning to break, tears heating your eyes again, “that I was feeling shit about myself—”

Another brusque laugh, void of humour, cuts you off. “And what of earlier tonight?” Cassian demands. “When Roza walked in on me kneeled between your damn thighs. What led to that?”

“That is enough.” Roza stalks over, folding her arms. “I’ve been staying out of this so you can have an adult conversation, but I will not tolerate that disrespect under my roof. I won’t have you talking to Y/N like that, Cassian. Or any female for that matter.”

Cassian slumps back slightly, muttering a half-hearted apology. To Roza, not you.

But he has a point, doesn’t he? Having laid it all out to you like this.

You slept together because you were hurting and wanting to chase away your feelings. And he may have instigated what happened earlier tonight, but you reciprocated — because you wanted to chase away your feelings.

You used him. And the second you truly realise that fact, you feel sick to your stomach.

Tears drop into your lap as your eyes shutter. Shame is ravaging your body like a sickness. You wish you were somewhere, anywhere, else.

Wish you were someone, anyone, else.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, and the words alone choke you up even more. “I am so sorry, Cass. I don’t—I shouldn’t have—”

You can’t get out whatever it is you want to say. The emotion is simply too much. A pain that is both mental and physical. It’ll eat away at you until you’re skin and bones. A husk of yourself.

There’s movement, and then someone is perching beside you. Wrapping an arm around you and tugging you into their side.

“Y/N…” Rhysand murmurs, resting his chin on your head. “Azriel should never have come to you for practice to use on another female. Why would you agree to that?”

You know precisely why. But you will not say it aloud again. Choking out those words to Roza was enough. They’ll only hurt even more.

You just cling to Rhys, and you cry harder.

And after a moment, it’s Cassian who’s sitting forward and answering Rhys’s question for you.

“Because you love him. Don’t you?” He’s so quiet. Painfully quiet. “You love Azriel.”

Yes, you want to scream at him, I love Azriel, and I wish I didn’t, because even if Kaeda didn’t exist, I would be the last person in the entirety of Prythian that he’d ever look at. Me with my ruined wings and broken soul. What do I have to offer? What could I ever give him that would be worth sticking around for?

But all you can manage is a soft cry. Rhys holds you tighter as your shoulders shake.

Roza takes the seat that he vacated, next to Cass. Her hand strokes over her belly. “Mistakes have clearly been made.” She speaks. “But believe me when I say that these things are not worth ruining such good friendships over. Ever. The bond that the four of you have is so, so special. Your love and support for each other is beautiful. And so, you may be angry at each other for a while, yes — but it’ll be okay. What you have is far bigger than anger. It’s love.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.” You whisper. “I would never.”

A deep sigh leaves Cassian, and he’s leaning forward. “I know that. I’m sorry for how I spoke to you.”

He shouldn’t be. You deserve it. Deserve worse.

“I still don’t think Azriel was justified.” He then says. “He’s being fucking irrational—”

“Yeah, well, he just needs to calm down.” Roza cuts him off. “You all do.”

“And stop sleeping with each other.” Rhys adds. “Definitely don’t do that again.”

Cassian’s response is a mumble, “No danger of that.”

You can only manage to shake your head in response. You’re so very, very tired.

Roza seems to read that on your face. “I think we should all head to bed. Y/N, Rhys, you both go on up while I see to Cassian’s injuries.”

You don’t need telling twice. As Rhysand pulls you up, he damn near supports your whole body weight. It’s like you’re boneless, slumping against him. Exhaustion suddenly smothers you and threatens to drag you down to the floor.

But as Rhys drags you past the couch, a hand catches yours. Encloses around it.

Cassian stares up at you. Looks beaten down and tired and hurt. But he squeezes your hand and says softly, “Love you, sweetpea.”

You run the risk of breaking all over again just by opening your mouth, but you have to get the words out. You swallow down a lump and tamp down on a sob, and you just about manage to return, “Love you too, Cass.”

His answering smile is weak, but he kisses your hand and let’s go. And then Rhys is pulling you towards the stairs.

You don’t deserve a friend like Cassian — someone who can be utterly furious with you but will still break through that anger to tell you he loves you, because you need to hear it. He’s so golden. More valued than he will ever realise.

And Rhysand is, too, as he supports you on every step of the staircase. His arms are firm around you, strong. He’s not letting you fall, even as he stops outside of the bedroom that you always share with Az.

“Will you stay with me, Rhys?” You find your hands bunching the fabric of his shirt, clinging to him with shameful desperation. “Please? I don’t want to be alone.”

He studies you, and then he’s nodding resolutely. “Of course, I will.”

The smile you manage to give him is watery and unconvincing, but you force it, anyway. You turn, opening the door — until Rhys stops you. Your tired eyes glance over your shoulder in question.

And the mischief that’s on his face is so normal, so Rhys, that it actually makes you feel better. That look he gets when he’s about to say or do something that’ll earn him a slap up the side of his head. One half of his mouth tilts up, and his eyes are glimmering.

“Out with it.” You say blandly.

“Just don’t make a move on me, okay?” He grins. “Let’s not go for three out of three.”

You scowl, stalk into the bedroom, but in all honesty, you appreciate the humour. It’s far better than the hurt.

And Rhys knows that — which is precisely why he made the effort to crack a joke at all.

When you’re tucked up in bed beside him, his scent and body heat lulling you to sleep, you find his hand beneath the covers and give it a gentle squeeze.

And like always, he squeezes back.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

There’s a new crack in the ceiling.

There were six the last time Azriel counted. A seventh one now cuts a jagged line that zigzags directly over his bed.

This bed, in this room, in these dormitories.

This bed, that Y/N sucked his cock in. That he kissed Kaeda on. With the lumpy mattress and scratchy blankets.

Azriel fucking hates this bed.

He hasn’t slept a wink all night.

He knows that morning must have arrived, because people are walking the halls and readying themselves for training and talking too loudly. Az would usually have been up before all of them, already out there training in the harsh cold. But this morning, he doesn’t move an inch. It has nothing to do with the good few punches that Cassian managed to get in during their fight. If anything, Az relishes the discomfort.

Y/N and Cassian fucked. It’s all he can think about. Plays on a constant loop in his head. The truth is an oily one.

And with that truth comes further truths. Realisations.

The first — that after a night of lying awake and turning it over in his mind, he’s not sure he even has a right to be mad.

Y/N owes him nothing. Cassian owes him nothing. Their choice to lose themselves in each other’s bodies should make no difference to Azriel whatsoever. No promises have been made — aside of Y/N’s agreement to help him build his confidence. And that was a favour. Nothing more.

But those two words — nothing more — keep bringing Azriel to his second realisation. One he’s so fucking stupid for not realising until now, when it’s too late.

It was more — to him. Right from that very first kiss in the mead hall, when heat had surged his veins and he’d been left wanting more, more, more. It was that want, that carnal desire, that had had him coming straight back for further experiences with her. It was easy to say it was all about practice. Easy to pretend it wasn’t the terrifying thing it was. Easy to deny the truth.

Right from that very first kiss, he wanted Y/N.

Wanted to keep kissing her. To touch her. To have her touch him. He didn’t want to experience those things with anybody else, and he didn’t want her to want anybody else, selfish as that may be. That need had overtaken him after one fucking kiss, and he should have realised it there and then.

It was why he’d reacted to Jonan’s flirting the way he had. Why he’d lost his shit in Fenlaros, when Thedis had been ready to drag Y/N off to a shaded alcove and fuck her senseless.

It was why, no matter how damn hard he tried, he couldn’t generate that same desire with Kaeda. Kaeda was not Y/N.

And Y/N was everywhere he looked. In everything he felt. Her heart and her beauty and her laughter and her damn good soul. Her strength. Gods, that unwavering strength.

And that was why he’d reacted so damn irrationally — because he wanted Y/N, and it was his own fucking fault that she’d fallen into the arms of someone else.

He sits up in bed, dragging a hand through his hair. He doesn’t want to go to training today, doesn’t want to face anyone—

But a knock lands on the door, and he tamps down on the urge to tell whoever it is to fuck right off.

“Azriel?” Kaeda’s voice comes from the other side. “I know you’re in there.”

He heaves a deep, long sigh.

He really, really does not want to face Kaeda right now, of all people.

But she knocks again, and he finds himself kicking his sheets away in pure frustration and stalking towards the door. He almost yanks it off the hinges.

Kaeda takes in the sight of him, a pinched expression on her face. “You look like shit.”

Azriel really doesn’t have the patience for this right now. His voice is cold, flat, as he bites out, “Why are you in Windhaven.”

“I came looking for you to see if you’d given any thought to my offer, and I found out you’ve been brawling with Cassian.” She reaches out, brushing her fingers over his bruised cheek. “What happened?”

“It was nothing.”

“Clearly.” Sarcasm laces her tone. She rubs her arms. “Can I come in? It’s cold.”

The last thing he wants is anyone in his space. And he should stand his ground, tell her that. But he silently steps aside.

Kaeda breezes in, tucking her wings in tight. She turns to face Az and folds her arms over her chest. “Well?”

Azriel kicks the door shut. “Well, what?”

“What of my offer?”

Her offer is the furthest thing from his thoughts. How can he think about a life in Fenlaros when his life in Windhaven is such a colossal fuck up? Not to mention he would never make such decisions without consulting his friends — his family — first—

But things with his friends aren’t in such a good place right now.

“You dumped all of that on me not even twenty-four hours ago.” He points out. “I can’t just come up with an answer for you.”

“What we’re trying to do is important, Azriel—”

“I have other things going on right now. Alright?” He snaps. “Your father’s vision is not my priority.”

Kaeda stills, balling her fists. “What things? Something to do with why you were fighting with Cassian, I presume.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Kaeda.” He pivots, turns his back to her. “I just…need some space.”

There’s a beat of silence, and Az thinks that perhaps she’ll actually listen and leave.

But then he feels movement behind him, and Kaeda’s front is pressing to his back. Her arms wrap around him. He tenses.

“I’m sorry for pushing you.” She presses a kiss to his shoulder. “I just want what’s best for you.”

Az’s eyes shutter. Her touch feels wrong. All wrong.”

“Azriel.” She whispers, and those hands travel lower, towards the waistband of the low-slung cotton trousers that hang from his hips. “I can make you feel better.”

The second those fingers begin to slide beneath the waistband, he’s launching himself out of her arms. Stumbling back against the wall.

“No.” He breathes. “I—can’t.”

Kaeda stares at him. Purses her lips. “Why?”

Because you are not Y/N. You’re not her. You’re not, and never have been, who I want.

“I just…need to be alone.” Is all he manages to get out. “You…you need to go.”

The expression on Kaeda’s face tells him just how rarely anyone asks her to leave. He feels rude, and brusque, and unkind.

He can’t bring himself to care.

“…Fine.” The tone of her voice suggests that it absolutely isn’t fine. She squares her shoulders, lifts her chin. “I’ll go.”

Az inclines his head. “Thank you.”

She strides towards the door, coldness rippling off her. And when she wraps her hand around the doorknob, she turns.

“When you’re ready to stop being such a fucking coward,” she levels him a look, “you know where you can find me.”

Azriel doesn’t bother replying.

He climbs back into bed. And he relishes in the sound of the door clicking shut.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

“You’re sure you want to do this today?”

Outside the chipped wooden door of your father’s house a day later, you’re frozen on the spot. Your breath clouds in front of your face, and you wish you’d accepted the coat that Rhys had offered you before leaving.

It’s tempting to turn around and go back to the cottage. Warm yourself by the fire. Hopefully fall asleep and avoid the pain in your heart, at least for a little while.

But you know that now is the right time to do this. Your father will be hard at work in his forge, and you’re free to gather your belongings and turn your back on that hollow home for good. At least it’ll keep you occupied for a while.

So you turn to Roza, and you nod. “I’m sure.”

“I still don’t think you should be doing this alone.” She eyes you cautiously. “Why don’t I send Rhys to help?”

“I’m fine, Roz, honestly. I think…I think I’ll appreciate the space.”

The space to cry and cry without anyone smothering you. You appreciate the love and support over the last twenty-four hours, you do — but being under the same roof as Cass…not knowing what Azriel might be doing, thinking, feeling…it’s all a bit too much.

So, yes, you’ll appreciate the breathing space.

Roza seems to finally recognise that. She nods. “Alright. I’ll come back for you in an hour.”

You lean in and press a kiss to her cheek, and then you’re turning and ripping the bandaid off before you can talk yourself out of it.

The house is as dark and dingy as it always has been. It smells musty. It feels soulless.

You step in and shut the door behind you, and you’re suddenly faced with every bad memory that has ever played out there. The shadow of your child self skitters around on bare, dirty feet, scrambling to get the fire lit, the dinner cooked.

The walls are painted with the hateful, malicious words that your father has spat over the years. Some of them have been punched in his many fits of anger.

This place will always be suffocating and evil. It will always shrink you back down to that tiny, terrified child who just wanted love.

You wrap your arms around yourself and drag your feet through to your bedroom. It’s just as it was before you left. Never feeling personal nor lived in. Certainly never feeling safe.

But you try to block all of that out and focus on what you came here for. The silence is welcomed, despite every little creak and bang putting you on edge, filling you with dread that your father might have returned home early. If you had to face a confrontation with him right now, you wouldn’t have the strength to defend yourself. You’d roll over at the first blow of vitriol.

And so, when you hear the sure sound of the door rattling open, your heart plummets. You freeze, hands bunching the tunic you were folding. Clear, confident footsteps approach.

Azriel appears in the doorway, and you don’t know what to do.

Perhaps facing your father would be easier right now.

He stares at you, his expression guarded. Where he would usually allow you to read his emotions, he wears a cool, flat exterior that even your keen awareness of him cannot get past. It’s deliberate — an act of self-preservation.

It makes you want to cry, just realising that he feels the need to do that around you. He never has before.

“What are you doing here?” You rasp, clearing a lump from your throat. “I thought…I mean…I would have come to find you, but I thought you needed space.”

Az nods. “I do.” He says. “I’m not…not ready to talk about anything yet.”

“Then why—”

“I made you a promise a long time ago.” He steps closer, stares at you in a way that is…quiet. You notice the dark smudges that sit beneath his eyes as he continues, “I made you a promise that I would be there for you, no matter what. And I didn’t keep that promise on Solstice, but I’m keeping it now. Even if I’m not ready to confront things yet…I won’t let you face this alone.”

After twenty-four hours of tears, you were certain you’re all cried out.

But tears fill your eyes again, and you feel like the broken pieces of your heart are breaking even more.

Azriel knows, better than anybody, how difficult it is for you to come back to this house. To face so many of the demons that you fought against with him by your side. He knows that you may have told Roza that you were fine, that you could do it alone, but you’re not, and you can’t.

You never wanted to do this alone. You just didn’t want to do it with anyone but Azriel.

And despite being hurt, and angry, and confused…he’s here.

“How did you…” You clear your throat again. “How did you know?”

“Was flying above. Saw you with Roza.” He strides further into the room and goes straight to one of the drawers in your dresser. “Are you taking everything?”

You’re still a little stunned, but you manage a nod. Your everything is, in fact, not much at all.

Az begins to fold your clothes and sort them into piles. He’s completely silent. Doesn’t even look at you. But a shadow reaches out and tickles your arm.

There’s so much you want to say to him. You also just want to throw your arms around him. Apologise, and apologise, and apologise.

But you’ll always respect his boundaries. He isn’t ready. So you return to the task and work just as silently as he is.

It’s a little while later, when he’s moved on to your small gathering of keepsakes, that he speaks again.

“Do you want to take this?” He turns to you.

In his hand is the little wooden owl carving he made for your thirteenth birthday. The damned thing has seen you shed so many tears, stayed clutched in your palm through so many nightmares. Never will you ever part with it.

“Always.” You answer quietly. “I’ll always take it wherever I go.”

His gaze lingers on you for a moment, and then he nods. Tucks the trinket into the pocket of your satchel. You watch the entire thing with a gaping wound in your heart.

“Az?” You murmur, and he glances at you over your shoulder. “…Thank you…”

His eyes catch yours again, and then he’s dipping his chin. “I made you a promise.” He says again.

You don’t speak another word to each other after that.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

As soon as you’re finished, Azriel is taking to the skies once more. He doesn’t bid you goodbye.

Roza appears almost immediately, and she takes in your scant belongings with a pitying look.

“Come, little dove.” She reaches for your bag. “Let’s get out of the cold.”

“Let me carry that, Roz.” You say. “You’re pregnant. And the cottage isn’t far—”

But your words cut off when, with a wave of her hand, she’s spiriting all of your belongings away, into thin air. You cock an eyebrow.

“We’re not going back to the cottage.” She says. “I’m taking you to Velaris.”

az tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd @coralseacourt @towhateverend87 @sspookz @bird-on-the-wire33 @morrie-rose @megwan @catscanteleport @sevikas-whore @thickthighs-sadeyes

#azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #shadowsinger #shadowsinger x reader #azriel acotar #azriel x you #azriel fic #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fandom #acotar x reader #acotar writing #acotar fanfic #acotar headcanon #acotar smut #acotar series #acotar fic #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #reader insert #illyrians #rhysand #cassian #practice on me

[brenbofen]

What headcanons do you have for a Poly between reader neuvilette and zhongli?

Grabbing the attention of two old men who also happen to be dragons♥︎

Broadcaster Message - love me some dragons, thank you for this anon. didn’t include nsfw cause i wasnt sure if you’d want that, feel free to come back if you want some headcanons for them!!

Notes 🗒️ - Zhongli x Neuvillette x Reader, They’re possessive, Lots of headcanons related to how I think dragons work, Furina mentioned like once.

Having two old possessive dragons fight for your attention, that’s what your relationship is. You always have one of them clinging to you, a hand always on your back or holding yours. Eventually they learn to share you, but they still get fussy if you give more attention to the other.

I imagine you would stay at Zhongli’s home in Liyue and Neuvillette’s home im Fontaine, traveling back and forth between the two nations. During festivals and holidays in one nation the other will usually come and visit.

At home they love being in their half-dragon forms, or even full dragon forms if you’re okay with it!

Zhongli curling around your legs while Neuvillette buries his face into your stomach, they’re basically like two big clingy puppies!

They get so sad when you’re gone for extended periods of time, especially Neuvillette. It’s not very often, but sometimes Neuvillette gets so sad and pouty without you and Furina would basically be forced to give him a short vacation to visit you to stop the rain in Fontaine. She also partially does it because Zhongli would have her head, but she doesn’t admit that.

Usually with Neuvillette you can tell when he’s missing you upset because he’ll always have a slight pout on his face and it will be pouring in Fontaine. Zhongli is a bit harder to figure out. He usually buries himself in work at the funeral parlor and becomes a bit quieter than usual.

The two of them are so possessive of you, primarily because of there instincts. There’s been several times someone had gotten too touchy with you for their liking and they’d come up behind you, hand on your waist while you hear a low growl emanating from them.

They purr!!! I just know they do. Zhongli does it a bit less than Neuvillette, his are also a lot softer and quieter so it’s harder to tell when he is.

They also love cuddling with you. Neuvillette wrapping his arms around your hips with his face pressed into your tummy and Zhongli burying his face into your neck or hair, hands resting on your chest and jaw. The sound of their purring just filling the room because they’re so happy to be with you.

They really like if it you play with their hair, especially Zhongli. He loves feeling your fingers dragging along his scalp! Neuvillette is a bit nervous about it because of his horns but once you do start to comb your fingers through his hair he just melts. Absolutely would let you style his hair if you asked.

Zhongli would take you out on a lot of dates to fancy restaurants, long walks through Liyue, really anything! Neuvillette prefers to spend his time with you at home, cuddling in bed or having you sit in his lap while he works on something in his office.

They can and will shower you with gifts, especially jewelry. It’s partially because they’re dragons. Their instincts tell them to cover you in gold and jewels, because you’re their treasure!

Zhongli would absolutely call you his treasure, no hesitation. I don’t think Neuvillette would be very big on petnames alternatively, I just can’t think of any he would use.

I ran out of ideas, m sorry 🙏🙏😞😞

#📺 brenbofen’s stories #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #neuvillette x reader #zhongli x reader #do they have a ship name?? #zhonvillette??? #neuvli???? #i saw someone call them law and order #zhongli x neuvillette x reader #dragon zhongli #dragon neuvillette #📺 brenbofen rambles #zhongli headcanons #neuvillette headcanons

[cinnajun]

ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: zb1 when they get jealous

a/n: this is my istj waiting room activity

notes: yujin is not included due to his age, jiwoong’s is set in the real world (aka he’s an idol), did not proofread

wc | 4.2k

jiwoong

i don’t think jiwoong gets jealous often

it’s just not his first thought when it comes to certain things LOL

but, depending on the situation, he absolutely will get jealous, but not in the way most people do

many people digest jealousy/envy as a big emotion but i don’t think it’s very big for jiwoong

and he knows that his jealousy isn’t something you should have to deal with but he doesn’t want to deal with it either so he’ll do his best to get rid of the issue without you knowing, which means making up creative ways to squash the situation

they all incorporate wherever you are

so let’s say you’re at the mall, you’re waiting for him to get out of a store, and a guy walks up to you and starts chatting you up

jiwoong will walk up to you and smile at whatever guy is flirting with you, acting completely fine

and then he’ll dip down and whisper something into your ear, and it’s usually something super unserious

“there’s a 50% sale at the ice cream shop and you get a fun cup for free”

you’re gone, he’s happy, and whatever guy was chatting you up is completely out of the picture

things are different when it comes to his members though

he always knew you liked kids and was well aware that you often volunteered to help out with kids, and he knew that you tutored high school students throughout university

nevertheless, jiwoong never thought han yujin would be his worst enemy

JIWOONG IS NORMALLY the most patient person you know—he can sit with you in a shop for an hour, watching you debate over two different mugs to buy without voicing one complaint. However, for some reason, watching you cook Yujin’s lunch is the worst thing he’s ever had to experience.

You had insisted on it after finding out he was planning on going to school after how long they’d been promoting, saying that it would be hard for him to go to school without anyone to cook him lunch. Jiwoong insisted that Hanbin probably would’ve, but you brushed him off, saying it wouldn’t take you long.

An hour and a half later, he was still sitting there, watching you cut watermelon into flowers. It was nearly 8 o’clock, and the movie you were going to was due to start at 8:45—meaning you had to leave soon.

“Are you almost done?” he asked, putting his down on the counter. You scoffed, putting the lid onto the last section of Yujin’s lunch box.

“What’s up with you?” you asked, beginning to wrap it up. “You’ve asked three times in the last hour.”

“I’m jealous that you’re spending more time fussing over Yujin’s lunch than hanging out with your boyfriend, whom you haven’t seen in a long time.”

“You’re jealous over Yujin?” you asked, exasperated, turning around and putting your hands on your hips. “He’s your kid too! You should help out! What father is jealous of their own child?”

zhang hao

there are 2 men in zb1 that don’t get jealous literally ever and hao is one of them

literally how could he be jealous when he’s zhang hao

most of the time, actually, you’re the one getting jealous (which makes sense, because he’s zhang hao)

and he always mocks you for it, which you hate

he’ll say something like “aw, do you think they’re going to steal me away from you?” and you have to resist the urge to punch him in the stomach

so when he actually gets jealous it is sooooo much fun for you

you milk it to no end. it is an opportunity you CANNOT waste

most of the time, it happens at his fancy violinist events, where you meet other people who are just as talented and impressive as him (and sometimes, they’re pretty attractive, too)

when he’s jealous, he sticks to your side and gets a little bit mean, especially towards whoever he’s jealous of

gets super touchy too

has a hand around your waist and drags you around with him just to make sure everyone gets the big picture

one day, he notices you and hanbin have been hanging out a lot all of a sudden, and it makes him really, really jealous

mostly because he can’t do his little flaunt routine, because he’s flaunted you to him enough

and then you realize he’s jealous that you and hanbin have been spending a lot of time together planning his birthday party

so obviously you capitalize on it immediately

it backfires on you

HAO WASN’T TRYING to be dramatic, but when he swung the door to Hanbin’s apartment open, having dug the spare key out from under the mat, he couldn’t help but march in like a soldier going to war.

You and Hanbin were sitting at his dining table, both of your laptops open. You had a cup of tea on the table, too, in a mug Hao knew he’d gifted Hanbin for his birthday a couple of years back.

“You let him make you tea?” he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air like he was in some sort of drama. Both you and Hanbin stared at him in a mix of shock and confusion, wondering what in the world had caused him to barge in like that. Sure, you were beginning to pick up the fact that he was jealous of your business meetings with his best friend, but you weren’t exactly aware of how far you’d let it progress.

“Well, I made the tea—”

“You know where he keeps his tea?” he cut you off, staring at you while tapping his foot on the ground. “I am sick of this. How am I being left out by my partner and my best friend? What did I do to deserve this?”

“I think you’re getting the wrong idea,” Hanbin said, slowly closing his laptop. “We aren’t hanging out, per se, so we aren’t exactly leaving you out.”

“Then why have you spent hours upon hours together over the past week?”

You placed a hand over your mouth, trying to stop from laughing. “Hao, please be serious. What’s next week?”

His cheeks turned bright red, and you wished you could’ve got his big outburst on video.

hanbin

i am a believer that hanbin get sooo jealous (have you seen him glare at people's interaction with hao LOL)

he’s like the nicest guy on earth so there has to be one negative emotion that he feels

and it’s quite literally only over his loved ones, nothing else

will get jealous if people spend too much time with hao

will get even more jealous if people steal your attention away from him

he doesn’t even get jealous over things he should be getting jealous over, it’s things he hallucinates

“that guy stared at you a little too weirdly…”

“he was just our waiter?”

“still he was too friendly…i got bad vibes”

when hanbin gets jealous, though, it’s not very serious and never causes a problem between you two

he might hold your hand a little tighter or not be very fond of leaving you alone, but otherwise it’s not an issue

there are instances where his jealousy can get serious, and most of the time it’s pretty warranted (and this is when hanbin leans towards protective)

you’ll be watching one of his performances among a bunch of his peers and someone will get a little too touchy with you

and dancers are very hot so he might get a little insecure too

he will stomp over to you, sweaty and tired, and drag you away without saying a word to whoever was chatting you up

other than that his jealousy is kind of cute

hanbin doesn’t view any of the boys as enemies but sometimes matthew can be super cute

and while he considers matthew one of his best friends sometimes he forgets that matthew is just like that and isn’t trying to woo you

matthew, however, is well versed in the art that is hanbinism and is immune to it

YOU KNOW HANBIN like the back of your hand. He’s sweet, pretty, and enjoys being around the people he loves. And, you know for a fact Matthew is one of the people he loves. Nevertheless, when he skips up to you two with a white rose he picked, Taerae in tow, you can practically see a vein pop out of Hanbin’s head.

“Look at how pretty this is!” he smiled, and you nodded, agreeing with him. “Taerae and I found a bush of them, and I figured I’d pick one to give to you.”

You hear Hanbin scoff, and, feeling panic rush up your throat, you turn to him with horror flowing through you. The look in his eyes is dangerous, and a sort of shallow smile appears on his face—you don’t like it one bit. You turn back to Matthew, who seems completely unphased, and instead keeps talking.

“Here,” he said, holding it out to Hanbin. He stares at it, raising his eyebrows in confusion.

“I thought you were giving it to [First]?”

“Huh? That would be weird,” Matthew replies, tilting his head. You hear Taerae begin to laugh, likely at Hanbin, and you have to hold back a little chuckle as well. “Wouldn’t you be the one to give a rose to them? Anyway, here you go.”

Hanbin, dumbfounded, takes the rose from Matthew’s hand, and he and Taerae disappear off into the distance.

matthew

matthew is #2 of men in zb1 who don’t get jealous often

literally doesn’t have the brain capacity for it

he’s like a universal friend, and universal friends don’t get jealous of anybody, nor do they distrust their significant others

a more appropriate word to use would be uncomfortable

at least that’s what matthew says when he gets jealous LOL

he genuinely doesn’t think he feels jealous because he doesn’t have any worry that whoever is talking to you is going to “steal” you away from him, but he certainly doesn’t appreciate anybody hardcore flirting with you

he can handle a “you’re so pretty” or an “i love your outfit” but if someone is persisting and he can tell you’re uncomfortable (both factors have to be present, or he’ll just let you handle it yourself) he will do his best to shut it down

but in the matthew way

so he walks over to you with a big smile on his face and starts talking to you like he normally would

“hey, babe, i lost you for a second”

whoever’s talking to you literally can’t keep going because of how nice matthew is

“oh, who’s this? it’s nice to meet you! i’m [first]’s boyfriend, matthew”

they’re gone within 2 minutes and matthew is feeling successful

he’ll probably give you a kiss on the cheek afterwards just to hammer home his point

he will, however, admit that he gets jealous of the other members lol

it’s mostly because he considers them his friends, though, so the idea that you’d be into one of them is scary to him

as a result, he gets a little wary when he stumbles upon you chatting with jiwoong at a party

BEFORE MATTHEW LEFT to go get a drink, you were sitting on the couch, playing a game on your phone. He planned to tell you that you could leave after he finished the drink, but when he returned, Jiwoong was sitting across from you, speaking with you.

The smile on your face was genuine, and you seemed overjoyed that you weren’t bored anymore. And, subconsciously, Matthew took it as you being happy that Jiwoong was talking to you, and not because you were glad you wouldn’t have to drag Matthew away from his friends anymore (which was the truth).

He sat back down next to you, sitting on the edge of the seat and putting his cup down on the coffee table. You smiled at him, and Jiwoong said his hellos, to which Matthew replied less than enthusiastically.

“We were just chatting about the new art exhibit that opened up at the museum. You know, the one we went to last week?”

“Yeah, I remember,” he said, taking a long sip of the drink. You raised an eyebrow, finally picking up that Matthew was feeling a bit jealous. “You planning on going again, or something?”

“Nope,” Jiwoong cut in, leaning back in his chair. “Actually, [First] was just talking about how much she enjoyed going with you, as you seemed to like it a lot. She said your eyes were sparkling the entire time.”

Matthew shut up quick after that, and you didn’t mention it ever again.

taerae

taerae’s jealousy is silent

you won’t know he’s jealous until well after the event has occurred

he might bring it up in passing weeks later and you’re absolutely dumbfounded

mostly because you had no clue

“you were jealous?”

“yeah, he kept staring at your lips and was getting super touchy with you. how would i not be jealous?”

you think about the interaction for hours afterward, you skim through all the memories, and you cannot figure out where he conveyed he was jealous

he’s so good at masking any negative emotion that when you manage to notice his jealousy it’s almost a little bit scary

you’ll be talking with someone, it doesn’t matter who, and you’ll look over at him for a second and notice this weird look in his eyes

and then you’ll be hyperaware of how everything he says has this sharp edge to it

little jabs that neither you or whoever you’re talking to would be able to pick up unless they were actively looking for hostility

lowkey it’s kind of attractive LOL

taerae’s usually the picture of “kind” so seeing him go into a lockdown mode is a bit fun for you, even if it’s barely noticeable

after the event that made him jealous he’s super touchy with you which is also fun for you

because taerae gives gooood hugs and is comfortable to lay on

so, long story short, if he’s ever jealous of the boys you don’t know until afterward

sometimes even weeks after the fact

and obviously when you were fawning over zhang hao after his violin recital, which taerae had taken you to, you weren’t exactly aware of the way he was staring at hao

WHEN TAERAE GRABS your hand about a minute into your drive, lacing all of your fingers together and pulling your hand onto his lap, your jaw drops. You turn to look at him with shock on your face, trying to find the words to say. “No way,” you gasped, putting your other hand over your mouth. 

He looks over at you for a brief second, confused as to why you’re suddenly making such a big deal that he was holding your hand. “What? I don’t understand.”

“You were jealous? Of Hao?” you exclaimed, letting your hand drop from your mouth. “Why? I mean, he did well, did he not? Was I too complimentary? Do I need to reel it back next time?”

“What? No, you were just being nice. Where did you get the idea I was jealous?”

“You say that, but in a month and a half, you’re going to be like, ‘You know what made me super jealous?’ and then you’re going to drop three bombs on me,” you replied. “And this is going to be included. So, just say it now, so we can get it over with.”

Taerae blinked a couple of times, tightening his grip on your hand. “Okay, maybe I was a little jealous—”

You wrenched your hand away from his, clapping excitedly. “Oh, I’m a genius! I have a degree in Taeraeology now, seriously.”

“What in the world is Taeraeology?”

ricky

when ricky gets jealous it’s like not a competition

he just shuts the situation down

i mean he’s so tall and so gorgeous that anybody who tries anything with you is immediately so intimidated the moment he does anything, he barely even has to talk

he literally has a neck tattoo like that’s terrifying

as a result he does not have the time to get seriously jealous because anyone who’s flirting with you is sprinting away the moment they lay eyes on him approaching you

most of the time people don’t even try anything anyway because they see you with him before you’re separated

for the few that are willing to stand up to ricky, it’s pretty funny for you to watch

“[first], who’s this?” and you watch the competitor cartoon-gulp right in front of you

they maybe last about 15 seconds before they bid you goodbye out of pure intimidation like good for you ricky

if it’s one of the days where he looks incredibly cute and soft (you know what i’m talking about) things tend to go south because ricky is awkward and his strong suit is rbf

at which point you end up having to be the one to be like “okay, me and my boyfriend are going to head out now!” LOL

among the jebis the only one ricky is going to get jealous of is gyuvin and that’s because they’re the same age and very close

he knows gyuvin will never make a move on you but that doesn’t stop him from getting jealous when gyuvin is taking up too much of your attention

and he’ll straight up tell him to fuck off too LOL

riyangis i get you

GYUVIN LOOKS LIKE he’s about to burst into laughter as Ricky stands next to you, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. He never takes Ricky’s jealousy seriously, which you understand why, given the fact that they’re best friends, and he has absolutely no interest in you whatsoever.

“You should go home now,” Ricky insists, motioning towards the front door. “I think we’ve hung out for long enough today.”

It was partially your fault for introducing a topic Ricky wasn’t versed in, but Gyuvin was the only other person you knew had watched the show you were watching, and you were itching to talk about it with somebody who understood. But, you’d pushed it too far, and he’d gotten a bit upset that you were focusing on Gyuvin when he had barged into your date.

“Aw, but [First] is my friend, too.”

“And, if we were both drowning, she’d choose me over you. What’s your point?”

Gyuvin burst into laughter, clutching his stomach as he wobbled towards the door. You held back your laughter as best you could, nearly losing it as Gyuvin struggled to put on the pair of bright yellow Crocs he decided to wear when he walked over. He opened the door and slammed it shut, yet you could still hear him laughing outside.

Then, you couldn’t hold it back anymore. You laughed so hard that you also had to hold your stomach, and Ricky marched away from you, ignoring the halfassed apologies that fell from your lips.

gyuvin

gyuvin isn’t usually a jealous guy but he can get jealous, as opposed to hao and matthew who virtually never get jealous

when he gets jealous though it’s somewhat upsetting

it usually means something happened that wounded his pride or made him feel insecure, which you don’t enjoy obviously

so 99.9% of the time, if gyuvin is jealous, it’s because one of the members did something to/with you that he wasn’t super okay with

it’s never anything minute, like one of them liking an instagram post or something stupid, rather something happening under his nose

he loves and respects them a lot so the idea that they did something with his s/o without him knowing makes him super duper unhappy

and then he’ll start to think that there’s something they have that he didn’t, so he gets a bit insecure, too

but he absolutely will convince himself it’s not a big deal so then he’s just in an extra bad mood for the rest of the day

you usually have to squeeze whatever’s wrong out of him and, when you manage to, you feel really bad

because usually whatever happened to upset him was something you thought you’d addressed with him and/or thought he knew about

like ricky, he gets most jealous over things that happen between you and ricky

because you’re all close in age and gyuvin and ricky spend all of their time together, you’re obviously friends with him too

and, in ricky’s seasonal instagram wrap up post, he notices a selfie of you two in what he thinks was a hangout you had together without him knowing based on the background

it ruins his day so fast :( but you make sure to patch up the misunderstanding

GYUVIN HATES THE WAY HE FEELS as he gears up to speak, twiddling his thumbs while you sit across from him at the table, a frown painting your face. He doesn’t like it when you look sad, and he doesn’t like feeling this way or addressing that he feels it. So, when the time comes where he has to talk about it, it eats him up from the inside out.

“Did you hang out with Ricky? Without me?”

You immediately furrow your eyebrows, as if you’re confused. “Not that I know of? I barely even text Ricky outside of the group chat the three of us have. Where’d you get that idea?”

Embarrassed, Gyuvin decides to pull up the post, turning his phone to face you. You take it from his hands, bringing it closer to your face so that you can get a better look at it. Then, recognition floods your features, and your frown turns into a smile. “That was when we roadtripped to the beach. Not pictured here are you and Taerae, who were getting us coffee.”

Gyuvin snatches the phone back, feeling even more embarrassed. He zooms in on the background parts, ignoring you and Ricky, quickly realizing that the filter Ricky put on the picture made the water look much bluer than it actually had been, leading him to believe you’d gone on your own separate beach trip. Feeling the blood rush to his cheeks, Gyuvin smiled crookedly.

“My bad.”

gunwook

i actually struggled with this

on one hand i don’t think gunwook would get jealous easily

he’s a very reasonable boyfriend and has quite literally never wronged you

on the other hand i do think he would get jealous somewhat frequently

in the same way as taerae, it’s very quiet jealousy, but you will literally never know with him

he won’t ever bring it up after it happens and will just. move on

he also might get a little snarky with whoever approached you afterwards, but never when you’re around, so you are none the wiser

if you find out gunwook got jealous, you are finding out from other people, which you think is absolutely insane

one day you’ll be like cordially chatting with gyuvin and he’ll bring up this one time gunwook got super mega jealous over one of your guy friends and how it haunted him for months and you’re like ??? what

gyuvin is like you DIDN’T know? and then you learn about every single time gunwook has gotten jealous and then told him + yujin + ricky about it

apparently it was so obvious to the boys that hanbin literally asked him about it

you’re flabbergasted 

so then you approach gunwook like “wtf is this?” and he’s like

“oh yeah”

what do you mean OH YEAH?

you’re actually so shocked

gunwook isn’t the type to get jealous of the boys though like that just straight up won’t happen

doesn’t matter who you’re talking to, how much time you spend with them, etc

he knows they’d never pull something with you ever so you could literally go on a remote vacation to the amazon rainforest with NO cell service with like hanbin and he wouldn’t give a shit

TAERAE WAS BUSY, which meant you’d dragged Hanbin along with you to go shopping for Christmas presents for the boys. You’d been dating Gunwook long enough that you felt like it was a good way to show gratitude for them, and Hanbin agreed to take you to the mall to get the gifts.

Of course, you couldn’t take Gunwook, because you were planning on buying a good chunk of his gift, too, which meant you hadn’t told him where you were going. So, when he called, you were somewhat apprehensive to pick up.

Hanbin, on the other hand, looked terrified.

“Can I come over? I’m bored,” he asked, and you held back the urge to laugh as you stared at Hanbin, who looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“I’m Christmas-present shopping with Hanbin, actually. Sorry.”

Hanbin’s jaw dropped, likely at the fact that you just came right out with it, but you weren’t worried in the slightest. “Oh, okay. That’s cool. Have fun. Tell Hanbin I said hello.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too. Bye.”

He hung up, and Hanbin’s jaw dropped farther. “He just…doesn’t care? Like at all?”

You gave him an inquisitive look, as if you didn’t understand what he was implying. “Is he supposed to?"

thank you for reading !

tags: @happysmileybee

#cinna.zb1 #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone x reader #zb1 scenarios #zb1 reactions #zb1 fluff #zb1 angst #zb1 headcanons #jiwoong x reader #zhang hao x reader #hanbin x reader #sung hanbin x reader #seok matthew x reader #taerae x reader #ricky x reader #gyuvin x reader #gunwook x reader #req

[miinatozakiii]

wishing on you

park jihyo x fem!reader ; angst, fluff

synopsis: no matter what path is avoided, which turn is taken, it always leads the two you back to each other.

wc: 13.2k

warnings: alcohol ; cursing ; reader is part of twice ; men… ; kang daniel mentioned ; april's naeun mentioned ; jealousy!! ; pining!!! ; woooowww slowburn(?) ; lots of slowburn ; they're oblivious ; only half of it is proofread ; wtv else i didn’t mention

a/n: hey... sorry for the fake news, this is to make up for it. april fools!

you’re two raspberry beers in, there’s no way you’re backing down now, especially not with your stubborn attitude. jeongyeon pours you a shot of some strawberry soju and you gladly accept with a bright smile and loud chuckle. 

how could you not drink more, to be fair, you had just won another award for fancy, you deserved this. 

half the members are laughing as you drink more, you were always one to be a heavy weight anyway, always able to take twice as much as the members could. it was entertaining to see you down another two shots of that same soju, and even after all that, you still had room to have a bit of the makgeolli that nayeon had brought. 

it’s clear that the rice wine from the eldest is what fucked you over; the flush of crimson on your cheeks made it evident that you couldn’t think clearly anymore, so was the swarm of giggles that filled the air. the members—either drunk or on the verge of that—watched you, they cheered and laughed themselves, especially jeongyeon. 

jihyo simply rolled her eyes, taking another sip of the beer that she didn’t necessarily fancy. she watched half the members laugh along with you and placed her chin on her palm, her lips turning up into a soft smile. 

momo and nayeon argue about something dumb, then jeongyeon butts in and chaeyoung starts laughing until tears start to spill. out of nowhere, jihyo feels a weight on her shoulder, then turns to see you smiling and all flushed. 

your eyes seem like they’re sparkling, and maybe that’s the light reflecting off your eyes, or maybe it’s because the leader of your group is all you can see in your hazy state. maybe all of the above. 

“jihyo… you’re so pretty” it’s slurred coming from you, but the truth nonetheless. jihyo laughs at your statement and leans back against the wall behind you two. 

“and you— are drunk” she responds, “i’ve seen you drink a lot but this is… well, a lot” 

“i like… yes, strawberry.” you mutter against her, closing your eyes. “and you park jihyo!” you add with a giggle. 

“yeah… whatever you say.” jihyo responds hesitantly. the leader of your group giggles again, it’s the kind of giggle that brushes off a joke, but this isn’t a joke at all. you pout, then shake your head while closing your eyes unnecessarily tight.  

“you think i’m joking?” you ask, the tone of your voice sounding like you’re a kid that’s been declined candy. jihyo smiles weakly at your response. 

“you’re just drunk silly, let’s get you someplace else before you start saying things you don’t want to.” 

“hey… why don’t you believe me…” you sigh, lifting your head away from her shoulder and facing her fully. you place your hands on jihyos shoulders and firmly hold them, then affirm, “i like you, lots.”  

drunk words are sober thoughts. every word that spills from your lips is laced with the raw honesty of pent-up emotions that have been brewing inside you for years. from the moment you first laid eyes on her, you were captivated by her beauty. minute after minute, day after day, year after year, your admiration for her only deepened. you've become adept at concealing these feelings, but now, in your drunken state, all pretenses have fallen away, leaving you completely transparent and vulnerable.  

despite your best efforts to bury your emotions, they've finally bubbled to the surface, laid bare for all to see. but still, jihyo’s trying to figure out whether this is real or if the alcohol is making you say all this. 

jihyo chuckles nervously when your voice raises, afraid that you’ll draw attention from the rest—who, are all too invested in their bickering to even notice. 

“you’be been drinking quite a bit y/n, let’s get you someplace else.” jihyo says, smiling.  

she places a hand on your cheek, feeling the warmth of it leak into her own hand. jihyo takes her hand off and stands up, making you frown in the in process. 

“alright, i’m going to get going. i don’t want to drink too much, i’m already tipsy myself.” jihyo announces to the table, then looks down at you. “y/n here needs to go back to the dorms, i’m gonna take her back and take care of her before she goes ballistic.” she adds, giggling lightheartedly. 

the rest of the girls laugh, then nod before teasing you a bit. your arms find their way around jihyos torso, hugging onto her loosely as you try to comprehend the overwhelming environment. the world spins a little and you’re afraid to get up, scared that if you let go of jihyo, you’ll lose balance and fall. 

“please stay, don’t leave…” you say, clinging tighter.  

the leader of your group feels her cheeks warm up as you cling on, you’re not one to get too clingy, and even if you do, it’s rare— and reserved for your leader. 

as you follow her out the room, she holds the handbag that you entered the little gathering with, making sure it’s safe with her. 

jihyo’s hand is also holding yours, sending an electric, warm feeling throughout your body with each step you take out the building and towards the uber she had called. 

you get inside first, then jihyo follows and sits right down next to you. as soon as the door shuts, you’re quick to lean right into her again. it seems that being so close to her eases your overwhelmed, alcohol-infested senses. 

throughout the whole car ride to the dorms, you’re clinging to her and surprisingly silent, but your gaze is on her the entire time. jihyo shrinks in her place under your hazy look. 

jihyo helps you out the car and into your shared dorm; you cling onto her arm the whole time. she fumbles for her keys and manages to unlock the door, surprisingly. 

she helps you over to your room, walking past mina and nayeon’sj, then places you down on your bed, watching you lie down lazily before sighing. 

“what did i say about getting carried away.” she mutters, then walks over to your closet to grab a large hoodie of yours. she helps you put it on, given you’re probably not in the right mind to really do much on your own. 

when she slips it over you, the hood falls over your head, covering your eyes. jihyo chuckles softly before fixing it up so that your vision isn’t covered by the material, revealing your tired eyes. your gaze is fixed on her lips, almost glued to them, and your hands reach for her forearm. 

“you’re so pretty.” you mumble, making full eye contact with her now. “so pretty since i've laid eyes on you.” 

before jihyo can even process your words, she’s taken aback by your sudden movement, feeling the soft touch of your lips against the corner of her own. it's a gentle, innocent kiss, clearly not meant to be anything more—right? she feels you fall limp against her, your face falling to where the base of her neck meets her collarbone. as you rest against her, she can feel the weight of your body against hers, your arms loosely wrapping around her form. in your drowsy state, you pull her closer to you, causing her heart to quicken its pace.  

there's this weird feeling in jihyo’s heart that is amplified when you lazily mutter against her neck, still, she decides to ignore it. she doesn't feel like adding another weight to her shoulders, especially not when it involves you. 

- 

your head hurts like crazy as soon as you wake up, and you want nothing more than to fall right back asleep. you're wearing an old hoodie and the blanket you have on is wrapped messily on your body, limbs peaking out from the cloth. 

opening your eyes a little wider and scanning the environment, you take in your surroundings. you’re in the comfort of your own room, thankfully you made it out alive. 

trying to slow your actions to adjust to the hangover, you sit up slowly, but it makes your head ring even more. you groan as you lean against the headboard, trying to recollect yourself.  

in the corner of your eye, you notice a bottle of water and a packet of hangover pills. you reach for the water bottle, taking a small sip to quench your parched throat. the cool liquid soothes your dry mouth, prompting you to take a few more gulps in hopes of easing the pounding in your head. then you grab the packet of pills, but your hands fumble with the packaging, hindered by fatigue and grogginess. you let out a small, frustrated groan of annoyance before deciding to give up on the pills. with a sigh, you sink back into bed, curling up beneath the covers and closing your eyes once more, hoping to find some relief from whatever you had consumed carelessly the night before. 

the knock at your door disrupts your attempt at going back to sleep, making you grumble. you hear the sound of it opening and hide yourself in your sheets more, trying to make yourself invisible from whoever it is that’s in your room now. 

“hey, wake up.” jihyo says—you don’t respond or budge, instead grumbling again in response.  

jihyo frowns before sitting down next to you, placing her hand on your shoulder that’s covered by the blanket. she looks at the packet of pills she had put on your bedside the night before, shaking her head at how crinkled they looked from your failed attempts at opening them. 

“i bet you feel terrible, sit up and take the pills.” she reaches over to open the pills on the bedside table. 

you roll over and jihyo sees your puffy face, squinted eyes, and messy hair from rolling around while your hoodie was over your head. she laughs at the sight, then helps you sit up against the headboard. 

“how bad was it?” you ask, earning a tilted head from your leader. 

“what?” 

“did i do anything dumb?” 

jihyo ponders, deciding to not mention the memory of you almost kissing her completely on the lips. 

“no, you were just all tired and mopey.” jihyo teases, giggling. “you drank a lot.” 

“did you take me home? i can’t remember much but i remember your face from last night.” 

“yeah, i did.” 

“sorry for the trouble.”  

jihyo shakes her head at your apology, then hands you two pills and a water bottle. “just drink, breakfast is ready.” 

- 

something is off, something is very off.  

jihyo's been growing distant. initially subtle, it’s clear now that she's been withdrawing from you, and it's breaking your heart. you find yourself questioning whether it was something you said or did. up until now, everything seemed fine between you two, leaving you at a loss to pinpoint any specific reason for her sudden change in behavior.  

sharing a dorm with her only makes this worse. each interaction feels strained, despite her occasional smiles and giggles. it's clear that she's making an effort to keep things short and simple, adding to the discomfort and tension between you two. 

it's aggravating, the interviews and forced smiles, the way jihyo flees from your eye contact; everything kills you. the members don’t really notice, you’re still acting like evrything is alright – since it is with everyone but jihyo – and so is your leader. 

but sometihng is up, so you take matters into your own hands. 

- 

“mina.”  

“yes?” 

mina's laid down on her bed, the blanket enveloping her as she plays on her switch. she looks at you with a raised brow, curious as to why you’re in her room at this time. 

“did you need something?” she asks. 

“can i stay here for a bit?” 

mina hums, scooting over to give you space on the bed. she watches you sit down and put your face in your hands, groaning before you lay down flat on the bed. you take one of her pillows and hug it tightly before mina sits up to look at you. 

“alright, what’s going on?” she questions, “this isn’t like you. are you okay?” 

“i think jihyo hates me.” you sigh, hugging the pillow tighter. 

“what? why would jihyo hate you? you guys seem to be fine to me.” 

you sit up again, looking at her with a pout.  

“remember last month? that night after the awards we won? the night i got drunk?” you ask, mina nods and waits for you to continue. “well, i think something happened that night. jihyo's been distant ever since and— ugh, i just don’t know. i had to have done something.”  

“all i remember is you two going back early, nothing really happened but you were really clingy.” 

“like, how clingy?” 

mina turns away and ponders, making a little “hmm” noise.  

“i was completely sober, i remember seeing you cling onto her from the waist. your arms were wrapped around her waist, that’s all i remember. you were just really close to her, almost as clingy as sana is normally—without any alcohol in her system.” mina explains, shrugging. 

“is that why she’s been distant? because i've been clingy? that doesn't make any sense.” 

“you should talk to her.” mina suggests, “it’s the only way, and jihyo is understanding, it can’t be that bad.” 

you fall back onto the bed and groan, covering your face with your hands. mina places a hand on your shoulder and shoots you an apologetic smile.  

“what if she hates me and i only make it worse?” you mutter into your hands. 

“only one way to find out y/n.” 

-- 

after sulking in mina’s bed while she played her little game for an hour, you decided to get up and do something about the problem. mina gave you a little thumbs up before you left her room, wishing you the best and muttering a “close the door on the way out.” 

you've never been so scared in your life, even the sixteen elimnations didn’t make you this nervous.  

thinking to yourself for a moment you try to think of anything that could’ve happened that night. the lack of memory only adds to your anxiety, leaving you to question if you were too clingy or overly affectionate. did you say something that crossed the line? the uncertainty gnaws at you, and the only way to ease your worries is to talk to the worry. 

jihyo hears a knock at her door, brows creasing when she looks over at it.  

“come in.” she says, then she sees the woman who opens it, stiffening upon your arrival.  

“hey ji.”  

“y/n, hi.” she says, smiling at you. “did you need something?” 

“can we talk?” you close the door, “we should talk.” 

jihyo looks at your pleading eyes, then gives in. 

“yeah, okay.” 

you sit down on the chair in front of her bed, right in front of where she’s sitting. your posture is straight, jaw clenched, and fingers fidgety. shaking off your nerves, you begin to speak. 

“have you been avoiding me on purpose? i feel like you’ve been distant, things are different than before.” 

she looks down at her hands, then back at you.  

“it’s not that i want to, y/n. i really, truly love and adore you as a member. as a friend.” the way she says friend makes your heart sting a little, but it’s fine, as long as you don’t lose her. “do you remember anything from that night after the awards for fancy?” 

you pause.  

“um, only karaoke with the rest. anything after that i... i can’t remember. i’ve been trying to because you’ve been distant since that night, did i do something?” 

“y/n, i've been talking to someone.” jihyo starts, “i haven’t told the rest, but i plan to tell them when—or if things get serious with him.” 

him.  

“oh.” you simply respond. “is that why you’ve been distant?” 

“that night, y/n. i don’t mind, you know, when you’re clingy and affectionate. it's flattering and makes me laugh but, i've also been wanting to talk to you about something else.” you nod at her, continuing to listen closely. “you kept saying these things like i'm pretty and... you even said you—you liked me?” 

shit. you think, that’s all you can think of as soon as you hear it. of course, your crush on jihyo was there, but you pushed it down because hell, you were in the same group, you couldn’t let your stupid feelings get in the way. 

“is it true?” jihyo asks you, breaking you from your short trance. “y/n, do you like me?”   

“i mean, i used to, a lot. i mean i--” 

“y/n, do you or do you not like me. i'm talking about right now, and that night, because i don’t know about you, but even if you were drunk, you tried to kiss me—you did kiss me, on the corner of my lips. even sana hasn’t been like that with any of the members.” 

shit 

“oh, oh my god. i’m so sorry, i— i wasn’t in the right mind, i don’t even remember--” 

“it’s fine, but i'm just telling you this because you know, if you do like me and all that, it’s fine. we just—we can’t. look, you’ve been there for me all these years, we’ve been there for each other and i love you and appreciate you dearly, i do.” jihyo says, looking at you all stiff in your seat.  

you feel like crying, it makes no sense to but gosh is this whole thing grueling. yet, despite the turmoil, you're determined to find resolution and mend whatever rift has formed between you and jihyo. your hands shake from nervousness, jihyo notices and reaches out, placing her hands gently over yours. she knows how to calm you down, she’s a natural leader after all. 

“being with you, especially now—it’ll make things really complicated and difficult, and if things go wrong then our relationship with each other could affect twice you know? y/n, i care about you lots, and we need to keep this professional.” 

“yeah, i get that.” you say, relaxing just barely as her thumb grazes your knuckle. “i’m sorry for kissing you and making you uncomfortable, gosh, i'm an idiot. i'm really sorry.” 

“it’s fine y/n, i'm sorry for not addressing this. i should’ve said something sooner instead of not confronting you. let's always be true with each other from now on, yeah?” 

“yeah. thanks. i really want what we had—well, what we have to just be normal. i really love you and want the best for you.” 

“likewise.” jihyo agrees, smiling. she holds your hand, squeezing it lightly before getting up. “wanna go grab something to snack on? i'm hungry.” 

you laugh at her, easing the tension. “it’s like, eleven.” 

“you act like you didn’t sneak out at two in the morning when we were trainees, c’mon, you don’t want a little treat? the convenience store is right down the street~”  

you roll your eyes at her and stand up. “alright, let me get my coat. you're paying though.” 

- 

after clearing up things with jihyo, things seem to go back to normal.  

you two joke and laugh and have deep conversations as before, your feelings seem to die down too. along with this, she reveals more about the guy she’s talking to: kang daniel.  

he's also an idol, pretty well-known – though not nearly as much as jihyo – and it seems that he’s one to attract. but sitll, he appears to be just a regular guy, he’s really just a guy—there's not much to him. yet, learning more about him still stings a little, you know you could offer jihyo so much more. but your priority is her happiness, and as long as she's content, you're willing to set aside your own feelings. the agreement to maintain a professional and uncomplicated relationship remains intact, even though it tugs at your heartstrings to see her with someone else.  

you feel like you’re benched, relegated to the sidelines while watching your leader and daniel take center stage. there's an undeniable urge to be in the game, to replace him on the field. you can't shake the feeling that with you in the lineup, more points would be scored, the team would triumph, and everything would align perfectly. yet, for now, you're resigned to watch from the sidelines, silently yearning for your chance. 

this whole relationship screws you over, but you have other things to worry about while being an idol and friend to your other members. you can’t let him win, so you’ll pretend to be fine, even if it tears you apart in the slightest. 

you wonder if time with jihyo is worth it these days, what do you even gain out of it? 

- 

jihyo realizes she’s made a big mistake. 

her relationship with kang daniel is public now, but as soon as it’s revealed, there’s an uneasiness in her heart. 

this is all real, the public knows it, her members know it, and especially you.  

she spends more time with you and daniel simultaneously, but there’s this weird feeling when she’s with him. while in daniel's company, there's a strange tension that she can't quite shake off, but when she's with you? it's a different story altogether.  

she finds herself laughing more freely, smiling more genuinely, and experiencing an unprecedented sense of relaxation. just being around you feels effortless and natural, it reminds her how grateful she is with you. 

everytime she’s with daniel, part of her – all of her – is itching to get away and find herself back to you. she sees you in places and people she’s not with, it’s weird, it’s eating her up inside. 

as daniel sits next to her on his couch, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close, she can't help but feel a sense of disconnection. despite his attempts at intimacy, her thoughts are consumed by you. it's a strange sensation, one she can't quite shake off. the scent of daniel's cologne pales in comparison to the aroma of lavender and vanilla from the fragrance you use.  

and there he goes again, he starts to talk and it’s always about him, he never asks her about herself much. if jihyo’s ever talking about herself, it’s always her who initiates it. you were always one to ask about her day, how she’s doing, and you were simply attentive. daniel's rambles, words, and overall attempts at conversation these days—though well-intentioned, they fail to captivate her attention like yours do. she finds herself yearning for the moments when she can listen to your voice ramble on about anything and everything, or when she can ramble to you. 

 it feels like shes censoring or restraining a part of herself to daniel, but with you? it's the complete opposite. 

it's strange, the uncertain feeling isn’t something she experiences when she's with friends or group members. only in daniel's presence does she find herself immersed in thoughts of you.  

-- 

the preparation for more and more was rough on everyone, the choreo especially was difficult. 

the choreo was exhausting, tearing the members apart at times. still, as the group you are, you all managed to persevere. 

during one of the final dance practices, you catch from the corner of your eye jihyo leaning against the mirror, lips parted, hair sticking to her forehead, and staring into space daydreaming. she puts her head down for a moment before recollecting herself and standing back up, acting as if nothing had happened.  

she stands in front of the mirror and sips on her water, staring at herself for a bit. it seems like she has a lot on her mind. 

you walk over and put a hand on her shoulder, making her jump slightly before turning to you. 

“oh, y/n. you scared me!” she says, laughing lightly. “did you need something?” 

“you okay ji?” you ask her, “you looked really dead earlier.” 

your leader doesn’t answer, too distracted by how you look at her. as she observes you, she notices the intensity in your eyes, the sweat glistening on your face, and in that moment, she's struck by your beauty. despite being sweaty and exhausted from the physically demanding choreography, your concerned expression and the tone of your voice have her speechless.  

“hey,” you interupt her trance with your voice. using the small towel in your hand, you tap away at some of the sweat on her forehead. “you need to rest a bit more, take a longer break.” 

“oh, yeah, sure.” her response is rushed, it slips from her lips without her thinking.  

you pull out a water bottle and hand it to her, urging her to take a sip. “i think we’ve got it down pretty well, but it’s your call next time we run it again. take a break for now, i noticed you were fatigued during the dance break.” 

jihyo looks at you a bit more, head tilted up just a bit to meet you. she scans your face again, brows creasing just barely as she takes in your visuals. you raise a brow at her sudden look, tilting your head a bit. 

“yeah, you should definitely take a break.” you giggle, “you look so out of it.” 

jihyo finds her cheeks warming up, it’s not from being exhausted and sweaty, something else brings a rush of warmth. 

“sorry, just tired.” 

“yeah, okay.” you laugh, rubbing away the sweat on the side of her face now with the towel in your hand. “you look funny like that.” 

your leader watches you trudge away after the small interaction, perplexed at the sudden appeal in you. she's thinking about daniel, has he ever been that attentive? now that jihyo thinks about it, he’s never really done much about her stress or worries. he'd usually kiss her once and talk about himself in an attempt to distract her from her feelings. when you really take time to pay attention to her, it makes her feel all bubbly inside—daniel never evoked much of that.  

jihyo wonders what it would be like if you were in daniel’s place. 

“being with you, especially now—it’ll make things really complicated and difficult.” 

her own words ring in her head as she watches you sit down next to chaeyoung, leaning on her and pulling out your phone to scroll.  

jihyo feels conflicted, but there’s no time for that. especially not now, not when the comeback is soon. 

- 

you and your group situate yourselves for the inkigayo interview. minhyuk, jaehyun, and naeun are set to be the mc’s. 

everything goes as planned, they introduce themselves before twice does, overall, the interview goes just as it should, but something irks jihyo. 

the way you’re all situated makes it so that you stand next to naeun, who keeps glancing at you. jihyo can't shake the feeling of discomfort as she notices naeun’s behavior; the frequent glances, questions, and giggles directed at you make jihyo uneasy. the way you grow nervous and giggly in response to naeun’s attention strikes a nerve with jihyo, but she attempts to push down her weird feelings.  

there's a subtle tension building within jihyo, she tries to maintain her composure with nods and forced smiles. 

after the interview, all of you step out of the stage. the group gets together with the managers, but you’re pulled aside by naeun. 

about three members pay attention to the interaction: sana and nayeon, who are the ones that stand closest to you, and jihyo is eavesdropping, trying to subtly listen in. 

naeun tugs on the fabric of your top, earning your attention and a warm smile. 

“hi y/n, i’m a big fan of you—and your groups’ music.” she says, grin spread across her face.  

“oh, thank you so much.” you respond, bowing down slightly at her. 

“i was just wondering, um, i think you’re beautiful.” she says shyly, “and you seem sweet too. would it be alright if we exchanged numbers? i'd love to talk to you more.” 

your cheeks flush at the sudden question, you nod eagerly, nonetheless. naeun hands you her phone and you type your number in, making her smile brightly at you. you smile back the same. 

“thanks y/n, you’re cute. we should grab a coffee sometime?” 

“oh, yeah, i'd love that. sure, yes.” you answer.  

naeun smiles at you once more before waving and heading back to jaehyun. when you turn around, sana and nayeon are raising their brows at you teasingly.  

sana nudges your shoulder with hers and giggles, making an “ooo” sound. you roll your eyes at her, then nayeon joins in on the teasing. 

“oh she was totally hitting on you. look's like y/n has some admirers?” nayeon’s remark earns a wave of dismissal.  

“she probably just wanted to be friends and stuff, stop thinking so hard.” 

“or maybe you need to think harder. she called you beautiful and wants to take you out, basically.” hearing sana say that earns a dust of pink on your cheeks, you shove her playfully. “y/n is blushing~” 

“i’m not! stop that.” you groan, but the smile on your face makes it evident that the idea interests you. 

jihyo eyes the three of you bickering, a frown finding its way to her lips. could naeun really be asking you out? and you—are you really going to do it? the thoughts frustrate jihyo, she decides to turn away and focus on anything else, joining in on the maknae’s conversations. 

but the thought lingers in her mind: could you really be considering this? and why does it bother jihyo so much? 

- 

daniel invites jihyo over again and everything is the same as always. jihyo steps in and he kisses her as a greeting, jihyo kisses him back, placing a hand on his shoulder. she pulls away first, she always does. 

he suggests a movie and some snacks, to which jihyo responds with a “sure,” because she doesn’t know what else she could possibly do with him these days. he sits down on his couch, turns on the tv, and pats down a space for jihyo. it's weird, she doesn’t immediately lean into his touch, instead he initiates something and jihyo tends to reciprocate. 

daniel talks over the movie playing, something about the solo he’s working on and some recent schedule changes, but the woman in his arms isn’t listening. daniel frowns, bringing a hand to her cheek and turning her face so that she’s facing him. 

jihyo almost flinches, pulls away from his touch.  

(but she doesn’t, because what would that mean for them?) 

“you alright? is something on your mind?” he asks, snapping her back to reality. 

jihyo's eyes widen slightly, she eases away from his hand, then shakes her head. 

“oh, sorry, just... the recent comeback.” 

“ah, i see, i get it.” daniel says, giving her a little look of sympathy – jihyo can’t tell if it’s genuine, though. he smirks, the corner of his lip tugs up a bit, then suggests something as he puts a hand back on her cheek, “i know a way to get your mind off things, to get our minds out the gutter.” 

and just like almost every moment with him, jihyo finds his lips on hers. she reciprocates – hesitantly – then gives in. it’s slow and whatnot at first, then daniel starts to get bold and plays with the hem of her shirt. before he can get further, jihyo pulls away, her hand on his chest and eyes partially closed. 

“daniel i—um, we should take it slow. can we continue the movie?” 

he looks at her confused, then furrows his brows. “oh, okay?” 

daniel gets off of her and fights back a frown, but still, he settles by putting an arm back around her and pulling her close. the movie still plays, it’s not the most interesting but it’s better than anything with daniel. thirty minutes fly by and the movie still plays, though jihyo’s mind is elsewhere, probably thinking of you. when she turns to the left, she notices that daniel is asleep, almost too quickly despite what had just happened. 

jihyo shrinks away from him, she fights back tears, wanting to leave and return to the dorms—anyplace where you’re nearby.  

— 

a book is in your hand, you’re reading some novel that your friend had shipped from the states. thankfully, you could read more than just literature in korean, works in english are great.  

you're hunched over a bit, reading the book that sits under the glow of the lamp at your desk until you hear a knock. when you open the door, jihyo stands there, looking terrible.  

“jihyo? what are you—hey, are you okay?”  

she sighs, then looks at you pleadingly. you let her in with no questions asked, sitting down on your bed and patting down a space for her. she sits down next to you, leaning against your shoulder, a tear spills from her right eye. with your thumb, you rub it away, cupping her face gently. 

“do you want to talk about it?” 

“later.” 

“okay. do you want to stay here tonight?” 

... 

“yes.” 

“okay.” 

you turn off the lamp on your desk and place a bookmark in between the pages of your book, then close it. jihyo lies down first, and then you slip into the sheets no later.  

“come closer, please.” jihyo practically pleads, to which you respond with a hum. 

the two of you stare at each other, barely able to see each other in the dark, but still making out features and expressions. there's no words exchanged throughout any of it, jihyo just stares and stares until she puts a hand on your forearm. and then you feel that it’s right to dip a foot in the water, placing your hand above her waist and applying a little pressure to move her closer to you. jihyo scoots over a bit, then moves her hand over your body, pushign herself closer and into the crook of her neck. 

she feels herself relax in your presence, not wanting to let go or create more distance between the two of you. the warmth in her chest is completely foreign from whatever she feels around daniel, she wants to stay in this position with you forever, she’d much rather be like this with you than daniel.  

and then she hears you mutter a, “goodnight,” the tremor of your voice sending a shiver down her spine and making her feel all tingly. jihyo thinks that she could spend years in your embrace, just this moment alone makes her think that all that time with daniel was a waste if she had the ability to just barge into your room and stay close. 

— 

when jihyo wakes up, she catches you applying a light layer of makeup. you're focused on the mirror, attentive to the detail. 

she watches you for a moment more and decides to sit up when you rummage for some jewelry in your drawer. you catch her in the corner of your eye and turn to her, smiling. 

“good morning.” 

“are you headed somewhere?” jihyo asks, because it’s only eight thirty in the morning when she checks her phone and you’re already up and running, despite having nothing on your schedules. 

“remember naeun? she invited me out for breakfast, then we were going to... i don’t know, just spend until the afternoon together.” jihyo might cry, she feels her heart sink at your words. 

you look beautiful, and the thought of naeun seeing you like this, spending time with you, making you laugh? it strikes something in the leader. she watches you put on a necklace, silently processing everything. too many possibilities and worries run through jihyo’s head. you've just held her in your arms, comforted her and slept in the same bed with her, practically tangled together—and now, you’re going on a little date. 

“hey, you alright? you look like you’re in a daze.” you say, looking at jihyo curiously. 

“sorry, just tired still.” 

“then you should sleep more.” you suggest, “sleep in, you can stay in my bed.” 

“when are you going out with naeun?” 

“soon, like basically now—oh, did you want to talk about what was troubling you? i’ll postpone or cancel if you--” 

“no, no.” jihyo says. she shakes her head and purses her lips. “go have fun, i'm just going to sleep a little more.” 

you examine her a little, narrowing your eyes at the woman in your bed and trying to pinpoint any hint of, well, anything. you can’t really pick out what’s going on or what might be troubling her, so you decide to let it go for now. 

“let me know if you need anything, okay? i’ll respond right away.” your response kills her inside, knowing that you’re out of reach, despite your words, and who else is she supposed to tell about her troubles? how she felt about daniel and you; she can’t even figure out her own feelings. 

you sit down on the bed and brush a strand of hair back, fixing her tousled hair. your eyes go from her eyes to her lips, then to her hand that you now hold. you squeeze lightly, then look her in the eye again. 

“i’ll be back in the afternoon, okay? let me know if you need anything. just because you’re the leader doesn’t mean you don’t have your own feelings. text me, love you.” 

jihyo gulps, and when you let go of her hand, she fights the instinct to reach back for yours. 

- 

naeun shows up wearing her hair up in a ponytail. she has on a long black coat over her white top, beige slacks, and whtie sneakers. she's pretty, there’s no doubt. 

breakfast with her goes smoothly. you order fluffy pancakes with fruit, a simple latte, and indulge in two pieces of dark chocolate on the side. naeun opts for two pieces of french toast, a side of fruit, and a cup of tea. as you engage in small talk, you find her anecdotes and jokes genuinely amusing, often catching yourself covering your mouth to stifle laughter. her occasional flirtatious remarks elicit smiles from you, though you can't help but notice a slight detachment from the warmth you'd normally feel in such situations—but at the same time, this is your first... date?  

the two of you walk down the streets and find yourself in alleyways, simply talking and taking a few pictures here and there. time with her is nice, but it’s weird feeling so... normal with her. your heart doesn’t do flips, you’re not blushing as much as you figured you would, and it feels like you’re hanging out with a friend rather than on a date. maybe that’s what this is. 

naeun calls a ride around noon, saying something is on her schedule at two. you nod, understanding her reason of departure. she smiles at you, you smile back, and then she furrows her brows a bit, still grinning. 

  “i spotted some cameras around us, we’ll probably be on some headlines.” she says, fixing her bangs absentmindedly. “i’d kiss you if they weren’t here, you look adorable right now.” 

maybe it was a date. 

you smile shyly, feeling your face burn at the bold statement. “probably, that’s fine though. and thank you.” 

she laughs softly and it has a nice ring to it. “let’s see each other again sometime, i enjoyed this.” 

“me too.” 

“i’ll see you, y/n.” 

“yeah, see you.” 

when she gets into the car, you wave at her, then immediately, your attention is back on your phone. jihyo had lingered in the back of your mind the whole date, you figure it’s because she seemed to have a hard time earlier. there are no new messages other than a text from your mom, a few notifications from the group chat with your members, and texts from naeun that you never got to read—she found you right after she texted anyway, there was no need to respond. 

nothing from jihyo, unfortunately. you find it strange that you went all this time (three hours) without hearing a single thing from her. it makes you frown slightly, but you shake it off for the time being and call a ride back to the dorms. 

- 

when you get back to the dorms, jihyo isn’t there. you're dissapointed after hearing mina tell you that she’s out for lunch with daniel, jihyo never told you she’d be out for lunch.  

mina eyes you while you take off your jacket. “you were out on a date?”  

“how’d you know?”  

“little article or something that nayeon sent to the group chat, ‘april’s naeun and twice’s y/n spotted grabbing brunch together.’” she says, reading off her phone. “nayeon and sana were teasing you as well.” 

you sigh. “of course they were.”  

“well, did you have fun?” mina asks you, raising a brow. “do you like her?” 

it takes you a moment to respond, you have to think about it. 

“she’s nice.” 

“so you like her...?” 

“maybe. i guess we’ll have to go out more to figure that out.” 

“hm.” she looks at you, it seems that she’s trying to figure out something. “okay.” 

you don’t question the uncertainty in her look; instead, you walk over to your room, deciding to lie down and reenergize.  

-- 

as your outings with naeun become more frequent, you find yourself with fewer opportunities to engage in meaningful conversations with jihyo, or anything jihyo related. likewise, jihyo's increased outings with daniel and her focus on work leave her with little time to dwell on the uneasy feeling in her chest whenever she sees another headline about you and naeun. it's not like you two are public about your relationship, of course you weren’t, the media would be at your throats. but still, your members know, and if jihyo knew you’d feel a little guilty. 

(you don’t know why, but that’s how you think.) 

the next comeback takes your attention away from a lot of things, takes your energy away, takes time away from only the two of you – you and jihyo – not anyone else. 

the distance between you and jihyo seems to grow with each passing day, overshadowed by the presence of others in your lives. there's a weird gap between you two, you seem to talk to anyone but each other these days. 

-- 

[1:05am]  

you: are you awake? 

jihyo looks at her phone after it buzzes, wondering who could possibly be texting her at this hour. she’s in the living room watching some movie, the tv there is better than her laptop. she picks up her phone, looking at your contact and the contact photo of you that she had set – a picture of you before blowing out candles on your first birthday while in twice – then responds. 

[1:07am] 

jihyo: yes 

you: what are you doing? 

jihyo: on the couch watching a movie, why are you up? 

you: just not tired. had an americano earlier. 

part of you wants to mention that it was when you were with naeun, but you decide to leave it out. you don’t like to mention naeun really, not with jihyo at least. you don’t really know why, but it feels right not to. 

you: can i join? 

jihyo stares at the phone for a bit, she wouldn’t mind your company, if anything—it's been a while since the two of you have been alone. 

jihyo: come. 

you smile at your phone, you don’t usually smile at messages. 

jihyo looks away from the tv once she spots you, you’re dressed in an oversized hoodie and shorts that cut off five or six centimeters above your knee. a smile is thrown her way and that same smile tugs at the leaders' lips.  

you settle down next to her, a small, evident space in between that neither of you want there. jihyo continues the movie, pressing the “play” button and you sink back a bit, moving your hips up and lounging against the cushion. your body moves a bit when you do so, in a way that makes it so that your shoulders are touching. the small detail makes both of you concentrate on the movie more than necessary. 

a few minutes pass, then you decide that’s enough silence. your turn your head and ask, “how have you been?” it’s a simple question, really, but it still catches jihyo off guard. 

“good, you?” 

“i’m good.” you answer, and then you look at her for a moment more. “how are things with daniel?” 

jihyo tenses up a bit, the last thing she wants to think about is him. “alright. what about you and naeun?” 

“oh, yeah we’re alright.” 

the two of you stare at each other for a bit, unsure of what to say for a bit. 

your head falls to the cushion of the couch, you lean against it, keeping eye contact with jihyo before your gaze softens.  

“are we okay?”  

“what do you mean y/n?” 

“i just, miss talking to you. it feels like forever since we’ve been... alone.”  

she chuckles nervously. “i mean, i guess. the comeback has been... tiring. i'm glad we have this day off. plus, we’ve been spending time with... well, you know, our...” she wants to say lovers, but it throws her off. is lover the right word for daniel? boyfriend is, maybe, but that’s just a label. still, she doesn’t want to say that. 

"yeah," you respond, the word heavy with a tinge of disappointment. and then you stare hard at jihyo, studying her under the soft glow of the living room lights. you take in every detail—the gentle curve and sparkle of her eyes under the dimmed lights, the natural beauty of her bare face—and commit it to memory, because who knows when you’ll have time to look at her like this again. 

you realize that wow, you’ve missed this view – her, park jihyo – and part of you feels bad because you and your girlfriend naeun have spent so much time together lately, yet nothing about naeun makes you pause in place like this. your brain is tangled in a knot, you don’t know why. 

“you look really good with the red hair.” your voice is soft, it’s gentle. “you look beautiful with anything.” 

as the memory of you drunkenly complimenting her flashes through her mind, jihyo experiences a sense of déjà vu. this time you're sober, and the words you speak hold genuine sincerity.  

“thanks.” her tone appreciative. she leans into the cushion, and now your heads are at the same level, the eye contact much more... intense.  

jihyo doesn’t say half of what she’s thinking. you look great too, you always look astonishing. your current hairstyle, particularly the shorter, dark hair from this comeback, suits you remarkably well. the way the stylists style your hair, you, and just everything, jihyo tries not to stare too hard during rehearsals and filming. and now, god, especially now, now with your slightly disheveled hair, your sleepy eyes, bare face and leisured look. now with that voice of yours coaxing her to relaxation; you’re as captivating as ever. 

she feels her voice grow fainter as she answers, “you look pretty too.” 

“thanks miss leader.” you mutter lowly, which earns a giggle from the two of you. the little remark earns a dying tension that was in the air, and now your shoulders are fully touching after you scoot closer.  

your arms are linked after you make the bold move, excusing the action with an “i’m cold,” but there’s no need for an excuse because jihyo’s fine with it. if anything, jihyo’s glad that you’re all touchy like this (even if it’s just a linked arm). 

the movie that’s playing has already been ignored, acting as background noise as the two of you converse about who knows what. the only thing that matters is that you’re giggling like you used to, your cheeks are warm, and you’re starting to get a little sleepy.  

when your words start to slur, jihyo shortens her answers and talks a little less, watching as your head falls to her shoulder and feeling you shuffle into a more comfortable position. when you fall asleep jihyo doesn’t budge, instead glancing at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world and— 

it hits jihyo. there’s a striking, obvious reason that she feels the way she does towards you, why she’s been distant and hesitant with her interactions. never has her heart felt this warm or right with daniel.  

her brows crease a little when she realizes, but for now, you’re asleep and content, so maybe she should be too instead of adding another worry on top of the comeback. 

besides, she’s comfy right there with you, and you’re clearly feeling the same.  

she closes her eyes, sighing quietly, allowing one of your arms to slip behind her back and the other over her lap so you can loosely wrap around her waist. her head gently falls to rest against yours, and soon she's fast asleep, one hand nestled in your hair while the other rests against your forearm. in this peaceful moment, she finds solace in your presence, feeling content for the first time in a while. 

- 

nayeon is still tired when she walks into the living room, but the sight of your arms lazily wrapped around jihyo’s waist, your legs messily laid out on the couch, and jihyo laid down at an awkward angle seems to wake the older member up. 

taking her phone out, she giggles, then snaps a picture that’ll be used against the two of you in the groupchat. 

(and little do you know, when both of you wake up to see the picture that’s sent, you’ll save it even if you act annoyed, both of you adding it to your favorites without letting anyone know.) 

- 

the comeback takes up all your time and energy, having to wake up for the pre recordings, interviews, and then trying to go about your day normally like you’re not about to pass out any moment takes a toll on you.  

you've been seeing naeun for a couple of months now, of course you enjoyed spending time with her and whatnot, but when you kissed her, touched her intimately those few times or did anything romantic? it just felt... off. you didn’t mind, you’d initiate some of it, but that didn’t get rid of the fact that something was missing.  

there was the thought of jihyo doing these things with you, and you had to shake your head to get rid of that thought. jihyo doesn’t like you, not like that, and she’s with daniel. she’s probably on cloud nine with him, maybe all sappy and romantic, happy. the though of him making her feel like that makes you frown. you felt terrible when you thought like this, of jihyo – so you felt terrible most of the time – because naeun was with you, and she should be enough. she is enough, but that didn’t stop you from wishing she were jihyo sometimes. 

(all the time.) 

spending time with naeun takes a lot too, and you’re much more cranky, less talkative, and just being around her feels like it’s hurting both of you. there’s no spark anymore, even when you kiss her or when she kisses you. making out with her feels like a chore because there’s worries in the back of your mind and stress piling up. your troubles take a toll, it goes on for almost a month before naeun decides to leave what you two have as just friends. you agree without hesitation, realizing it’s the best for both of you, but you wonder why you’re not as... emotional. 

in return, jihyo knew her schedule would take the time with daniel away from her – not that she minded – which led her to make the same decision that naeun had made (but with daniel, of course. if she were with you, what could possibly lead her to break things off with you? who would ever do that?) 

when she unties the knot with daniel, it’s like a weight is lifted of her shoulders, and now the comeback doesn’t seem half as bad, it’s almost as if daniel were the reason she’s been so uptight and stressed. jihyo thinks that can’t be because—well, the person you’re with shouldn’t make you feel like that, they should make you feel relaxed and bubbly and sappy and as if your head is in the clouds. 

and that’s exactly how she feels when she gets those small moments alone with you.  

both of you are aware of the realization, yet neither wants to confront it directly, opting instead to push the mutual feelings aside.  

it lingers between you, unspoken yet palpable, as you both silently grapple with its implications, unwilling to acknowledge its weight. 

“it’ll make things really complicated and difficult, and if things go wrong then our relationship with each other could affect twice you know?”  

-- 

for the next couple of months until your next comeback, your relationship with your leader seems to creep back to its normal self.  

with the other members you’re found inching closer to the leader, it’s honestly not on purpose but by default. it just happens. 

then there’s those times where you’re alone, giggling and talking like nothing matters, like life as an idol is a breeze because really, it is when you have someone like jihyo by your side. someone you can reveal your deepest worries to, somone you can talk to without judgement, just someone you can lean on. jihyo is exactly that. 

of course the members notice, but that could just be another mina and chaeyoung situation, where you’re both close and that’s it. of course, there’s much more than just being close, hell, mina and chaeyoung are more than close these days – you’ve caught them being a little too touchy and affectionate for it to be something that’s just friends – but that’s just how they are. you and jihyo on the other hand, that’s a different case, but everyone is too occupied to really look into it, so the two of you continue to be close, closer than ever without thinking much of it. afraid to think more about what it is. 

alone time with jihyo becomes more frequent, including outings that used to be with naeun, dinner that used to be with naeun, laying in bed that used to be with naeun and... well, everything that used to be done with naeun. except each time it feels much more rewarding and tender.  

your heart does more flips than it ever did with naeun, and jihyo could say the same in regard to daniel. 

-- 

“alcohol free” is a hit, there’s no doubt about that. when there’s a hit, there's wins, and when there are wins, there is a night of celebrating. 

(karaoke for hours, drinks, more drinks, and even mrore, and then meaningless laughs and conversations between you and your members.) 

jihyo sits next to you with her second beer of the night, she can feel herself growing loose and looser. you’re still on your first beer, despite it being half full, you’re eyeing the soju on the table.  

mina's the only one not drinking, while tzuyu takes just a few sips before passing her strawberry-flavored beer to you, her eyes wary of getting too tipsy. jeongyeon, already pretty drunk, leans heavily on momo, slurring random words. everyone seems to be on their way to wasted, or simply having a great time. 

you turn to the left to see jihyo laughing away, about what? who knows. all you know is that she looks effortlessly pretty, smile lighting up the room and eyes all squinty in a way that makes your heart ache, yearn, scream, all of the above. you think that she’s looked the best this comeback (you always think that with each comeback); her cheeks are a little sun kissed from filming the music video, she seems brighter, and especially with her mid length hair, the way it frames her face so nicely, you could kiss her, maybe just a press to her cheek, and if she lets you, maybe a little more— 

nope. you can’t do that. you stop yourself from thinking further. you turn away, cheeks burning from something else that’s not alcohol, something that you don’t want to acknowledge. 

there’s the sinking feeling in your chest and now you’re a little scared that what you’ve had to drink will amplify it – it basically already has – so you slow down a bit, trying to get down from that temporary high. the pit in your stomach gets worse when you glance back at jihyo, who’s already looking at you with stars in her eyes.  

your skin tanned during the shoot, drawing some flak from a handful of netizens, but also garnering heaps of adoring, and a couple suggestive comments from others online. jihyo understands the appeal when looking at you, the tanned skin, nice features, and the dark, wavy, long hair that you’re pulling off for this album. of course, jihyo loves tzuyu, adores her really, and cares for the youngest, yet, whenever she glances your way, she can't help but think you'd fit the "visual" title just as well. maybe even better. 

she leans over a bit, just enough so that her lips graze your ear before she says, “you look cute, y/n.” 

“oh, thank you.” a giggle is added to mask the uneasiness in you before you distance yourself a bit. “i don’t feel the best, i think i might head back earlier.” 

“so soon?” she tugs at your arm, pouting. “what am i supposed to do without you here?” 

don't say that. 

you grin, it’s forced. “c’mon, you’ll be fine without me. you look like you’re having fun already.” 

“only because you’re here.” her words are a little slurred. “you make everything so... nice. yeah, that’s right, that’s the word.” 

“well, i'm glad—but i really am tired. i gotta go, you have fun okay? just think of me and... things will be nice. you're not very alcohol free.” the stupid joke is followed by a giggle, and despite how corny it is – usually jihyo would punch you lightly and roll her eyes – jihyo feels like she’s just been punched in the gut. 

you stand up and jihyo fights back the urge to pull you back, maybe into her, just close, that’s all she knows. the space next to her feels cold now, and the room feels darker as soon as you say your goodbyes. jihyo thinks it can’t get any worse, but then you move over so your lips are centimeters away from her ear, muttering a “think of me, i'll be at home” which definitely amplifies the ache in her heart. 

home, that’s where jihyo wants to be as soon as you leave the room. she wants to be with you, maybe that’s what—or who home is. 

when you get into your cab, you can’t help but think abotu jihyo more. the hurt in her face as you left, and the thought that she might like you too crosses your mind, but that can’t be, she rejected you a few years ago.  

there's still that chance that her feelings changed, just maybe she feels even the slight attraction you feel with her. your feelings never really died down, adn you realize that maybe it was wrong to get into a relationship with naeun while your feelings for jihyo were still under the surface. 

after you shower and get ready for bed – mind in a flurry the whole time – you’re bascially completely sober. you're still alone in the dorm, opting to try to organize your thoughts and conflicted feelings until you get a little notifcation on your phone.  

you reach over, squinting at the screen. 

[12:00am] 

jihyo: i wish you would’ve stayed. miss you. 

... 

[1:30am] 

y/n: miss you too. 

-- 

jihyo’s flustered and nervous, cursing at herself and practically pulling her hair out as soon as she reads the text she sent. she's at your door before you even wake up the next morning to apologize to your half-asleep self. you wave her off and mutter a sleepy “it’s fine, really,” which soothes her.  

the two of you pretend that night never happened after the apology, and then for the next year you run in circles. run around your feelings, run away from them. it's better, less complicated. 

-- 

when the two of you manage to finally come to a point in your lives where the mutual feeling isn’t eating you two up, something else decides to swoop in and bring you back to square one. 

“dates?” nayeon laughs a little. “like, wine and dine? or...” 

you laugh too because, what, a date? a vlog of... a date with one of your members. it sounds silly, but also fun at the same time. you're already on board to this “2wice date” idea that the director had suggested, and it’s one of those things that makes your job much more amusing. 

the rest of the members seem to be on board, and then you’re given the pairings, which renders you stiff in your seat. 

“nayeon and tzuyu,” the director says, making the rest of the member's giggle. the oldest and the youngest, that would be fun to watch, fun to poke at and think about. 

“mina and chaeyoung,” well, they’ve already been on dates, practically (probably) already a couple whether they know it or not. you watch chaeyoung smile like a little kid, a smile taking over. mina looks at her and a small smile tugs at her lips too. you only poke at chaeyoung. 

“sana and momo.” alright, that would obviously go fine, they’re already attached to the hip anyway and— 

the realization hits you: there’s only one pairing left. all the others are paired up, leaving you and jihyo. 

jihyo's gaze lingers on you, and for half a second you catch her eyes widening in realization before she quickly composes herself. meanwhile, you're doing your utmost to keep it together. just when you believed you had moved on from her, or at least accepted that it wasn't going to happen, all those emotions come rushing back. you're certain this revelation will keep you tossing and turning at night until the date finally arrives. 

the idea of going on a real date with her feels like cupid taking aim at your heart—but not in the traditional romantic sense. it's more like cupid wielding a gun instead of a bow, the bullet tearing your heart wide open. yeah, that's a better comparison. 

the members tease each other after everything, but out of all the pairings it’s you and jihyo who get poked at the most. you feel like your heart might burst, and jihyo feels the same. 

-- 

both of you sit on jihyo’s bed for a bit, trying to think of an idea for your date. neither of you want to admit it, but you’re both equally as giddy for this little episode. 

jihyo suggests going for a drive, some coffee, and then a garden. it seems romantic, so romantic that you wonder if it’s alright taking on this whole thing. 

“that sounds great.” you end up responding, smiling at jihyo as you say it. she purses her lips together and forms something that’s also a smile, the two of you laugh for no reason and a little spark starts a flame in your heart. 

-- 

the cameras roll, it’s time to act like you’re not about to lose your mind. you're officially on this date with the prettiest, most charming woman you know, right as that recording button had been pressed. 

“alright, let’s go for a drive.” and with that you follow jihyo, getting into the white car on the passengers side. 

you observe jihyo starting the car, paying no mind to the managers awkwardly third-wheeling in the backseat. she shoots you a smile, and all you can do is laugh, raising the camera in your hand and pointing it at her as she maneuvers out of the parking spot and hits the road. 

the car ride remains eerily quiet for a significant stretch because you simply can’t stop looking at her. jihyo doesn't seem to mind much (although deep down she does, but with cameras rolling, she has to keep her cool), and she keeps the conversation flowing, steering it towards simple, everyday topics. you manage to slip in brief responses while your eyes drink in the contours of her side profile, her beauty laid bare before you. 

“y/n, you and i. we used to spend so much time together, alone.” the sudden switch from teasing nayeon and tzuyu’s date catches you off guard. 

“yeah, especially before alcohol free, we still spend time together, no?” 

“you’ve been straying away from me these days.” of course she’s saying it jokingly, but deep down you both know that there’s a small rift starting to form as you try to run away from your feelings. “do you remember what we’d do?” 

looking out the window, you nod and say, “yeah, i remember we’d watch a lot of your shows. i never was a big movie or show person, but jihyo always managed to have me finishing multiple series’ and movies in a week.”  

the two of you giggle. “you enjoyed them though.” 

“some. you've made me sit through questionable things. it was always late at night though and i knew you had issues with sleeping, so i always said yes because i just wanted you to be well rested.” 

a small silence envelops the air before jihyo breaks it. 

“wow,” she turns to you since the light is red, her eyes appreciative. “thank you.” 

“anything for twice’s leader.” your words manage to break the ice. 

when you two get to the cafe, jihyo links her arms with yours and you almost drop the tripod holding the camera. 

your cheeks flush as you place your order, and then jihyo steps in, graciously paying for both of you with the corporate card, causing your blush to deepen. thankfully, you're wearing a mask; otherwise, fans would have a field day with this. they'd find a way to capture your flustered moments regardless, probably compiling them into a youtube compilation. 

there's a little outside area of the cafe, so of course, the two of you find your way out there.  

“it’s so pretty outside, but my date is prettier.” jihyo says to the camera, making you push her gently. 

“oh god, you’re being quite the romantic.” 

“why wouldn’t i my love?” jihyo teases, using the pet name that makes you cringe inwardly. but deep down, you can't deny that a part of you secretly adores it, even though you all pretend to be grossed out by it when the cameras are rolling. 

you roll your eyes before posing on a bench for jihyo, laughing at the way she positions herself in order to get a perfect angle of you. 

(jihyo thinks that every angle of you is more than perfect.) 

after jihyo finishes snapping pictures and showering you with compliments as if she's actually your girlfriend—though she isn't, and you have to constantly remind yourself that this is all for the sake of that little date episode—you switch roles. now, you're the one capturing moments, aiming your camera at her. you're in awe, wanting to preserve each shot you take on your little film camera, each one is worthy of being framed in a museum.  

“you’re beautiful,” you accidentally say out loud, which makes jihyo blush in return. there's no chance that’s getting cut out. 

and then you’re back in the car, but before you walked over you made sure your arms were linked, locking them tightly as if she’ll float away. jihyo gets into the driver's side and you make a small comment about being her passenger princess. 

“passenger princess?” 

“it’s a funny little thing, never heard of it?” 

"you can be a princess all the time, not just when you're my passenger, my love," jihyo says, but immediately cringes as the words leave her mouth—not because she dislikes the term of endearment, but because it feels a bit too intimate in front of the cameras. then, the two of you burst into laughter, as if it were the funniest thing in the world. you figure the more she says “my love” the more you’ll get used to it, maybe even crave hearing it when the cameras aren’t rolling and in your dorms, as normal. 

the final destination is some water garden, it’s beautiful out. the two of you find a little table to sit on and decide to have a deeper conversation there. 

your heart does a flip, a tumble, and almost beats out your chest when jihyo says, “i’ve always been really captivated by you.” 

“what?” 

“i’m serious. i mean, all of twice, they’re all special to me, but you’ve always stood out, especially these days.” 

“yeah?” 

“yeah.” jihyo affirms. 

you flash her a grin, then quickly turn away, attempting to compose yourself. deep down, you know the editors will have a field day with how much of a nervous wreck you are, but you try not to let it show. 

“you’re one of the prettiest people i've laid eyes on, you know? ever since i first met you on sixteen.” you admit suddenly, looking down. “everything about you has caught my attention since then, you’ve only grown brighter these days.” 

“is that so?” 

you nod. “i mean, everyone has been brighter. these days, everyone seems to be close and happy, i'm glad.” you pause, and jihyo waits for you to continue. “i’m just really glad we’re happy these days. i've done everything i can to keep everything from being complicated.” 

the realization hits, she makes complete eye contact with you as you say it. your eyes stare hard into hers, like daggers pointing at her. and then you look down again, playing with your hands. 

"sometimes, i don't know, i feel a little overwhelmed with how i feel and everything, but after spending time with you like this," your words now directed solely at jihyo, a shift she can clearly sense as her heart tightens. "i start to think that maybe... maybe it's okay if things are complicated. because we've dealt with complicated stuff before and managed to work through it. but sometimes i still avoid things and it makes the feelings worse. sometimes, you have to complicate things to reach an outcome that'll make everything alright. i think about that a lot, but i'm not sure if i'm wording it right. i think i want to complicate things now that i think about it.” 

you're not sure if any of what you're saying will make the final cut, and even if it does, the viewers might not grasp the real meaning. but as jihyo's eyes soften while she looks at you, you find yourself locking eyes with her again. there's a silent understanding passing between you, and suddenly, your words seem to resonate on a deeper level, shifting the atmosphere. jihyo understands, and in that moment, it's as if her heart breaks free from its constraints. 

“i think you’re right y/n. maybe complicating things is worth the trouble.” 

“yeah.” is all you can say.  

a brief silence settles, but it's far from uncomfortable. you share a smile with jihyo, and a few seconds pass before the two of you effortlessly shift the conversation back to discussing your fellow members and how both of you have grown over time. 

in that lingering silence, there's a final understanding, unspoken yet palpable. you realize that this moment, right here, is probably the most content you've felt in a while. and judging by the serene expression on jihyo's face, she feels the same way too.  

minutes later, you snap the final pictures, finding a swinging seat by the water to settle on. jihyo leans against your shoulder, and a sense of warmth and contentment washes over you. as the managers stand in front of the two of you, holding your film camera and waiting for a pose, jihyo moves away slightly and then leans her head back against you. with a soft smile, she puts up a little peace sign, and you instinctively mirror her gesture as your heads gently touch. 

a rush of confidence floods through you, emboldening your actions. you turn your head slightly so you can whisper into jihyo's ear, "can i kiss you? on the cheek." 

she turns to you in surprise, her face almost meeting yours due to the proximity, then nods with a slight flush on her face. "yes, of course you can." 

for the next picture, your lips gently land on jihyo's cheek, your hand instinctively cupping the other side of her face to draw her closer. jihyo smiles big, the happiness evident in her expression and pink cheeks. there's no doubt that once this picture is developed, the two of you will spend a good amount of time gazing at it, admiring the moment captured on film. 

“i’m happy we got paired.” you admit, the camera capturing your words. 

“me too, i'm really glad.” jihyo responds 

-- 

you and jihyo don’t talk much after the date, when you reach the dorms, jihyo is afraid to say anything really. this is the first time she’s had to think so much about, well, the two of you for the first time in a while. 

“that was a lot of fun.” you simply say trying to ease the tension. “it was lovely.” 

“i liked it a lot.” 

you nod, and look at her, searching in her eyes for something. “are you okay?” 

“i’m fine, y/n.” her tone is unsure, a little apprehensive. 

“right, okay.” you narrow your eyes at her, then sigh. “i’ll be in my room, if you... need anything.” 

jihyo doesn’t utter a word, instead she lets you walk away, watching you turn back to meet her as you step inside. 

a wave of emotions crashes over you, and a part of you—perhaps all of you—wants to cry. the date wasn't bad, but now everything feels... strange. it's not uncomfortable, but you can't shake the feeling that maybe jihyo didn't quite understand what you were trying to say during your ramblings. maybe she was just being polite, playing along, and she'll give you a gentle talk later. 

flopping onto your bed, you close your eyes and rub your face with your hands, feeling the weight of uncertainty pressing down on you. you resist the urge to tear your hair out, but the turmoil inside you remains, leaving you feeling lost and unsure of what comes next. what could possibly happen after this? after acknowledging years of these unspoken feelings, you really can’t pinpoint a— 

you shoot up from your bed at the sound of a knock on your door. you quickly run through the possibilities—nayeon is out with momo, and tzuyu has a shoot—leaving you with one answer. 

it's jihyo, it’s definitely jihyo.  

unsure why, you’re a bit scared. she's at your door waiting, all you have to do is open it and figure out what might happen next. the anticipation grills you. 

you open it, looking down a bit to see jihyo. 

“y/n.” 

“hey, are you—” 

“i can’t keep doing this anymore.” she says, looking and sounding conflicted. “after today i realized that, i don’t know, i really love you.” she pauses, waiting for you to say something, anything. when you don’t, she continues. “all these years, i was a fool for saying all that, you know, the professionalism and complications. i realize now that it only made things worse and, gosh, years, years, i've been fighting back how i felt about you. how i still feel about you and, this whole date thing—y/n, i can’t imagine waiting any longer or fighting back anything any longer.” 

everything that jihyo says seems like a fever dream, part of you doesn’t believe she’s saying all of this. you're frozen in place, staring at her with your jaw dropped a little, wanting to say something, anything, but you can’t. 

“please say something, i know you felt this way about me initially and--” 

“kiss me.” you interject, shakign your head in disbelief. “just--” 

jihyo doesn’t wait for another word from you. in an instant, she closes the distance between you, and oh my god, her lips are soft, she's perfect. it's surreal— you're kissing park jihyo, the culmination of years of inner turmoil, fighting against your own desires. everything you've daydreamed of and hoped for is finally happening, and it's even more incredible than you imagined. it's all so right. 

you close your eyes tight, afraid that if you open them she’ll be gone and this will all unfold into a dream. but you feel her hands on your cheek and it proves that yeah, this is all real. you can’t help but smile, jihyo feels it as you kiss her. she feels herself smiling against you too. 

stumbling back a little, jihyo closes the door behind the two of you before you both fall backwards onto your bed. she pulls away from the kiss to catch her breath properly, and you can barely open your eyes in the haze of the moment. but when you finally manage to, you see her smiling down at you like you're the most precious thing in the world, like you're everything she's needed this whole time and honestly, you are. 

all those years of uncertainty, but she was always certain about you. no matter how hard she tried to push it down, it was you she needed. and now, it's real—nothing is complicated anymore, who cares if it’s anything even close to unprofessional or complicated. you don’t, that’s for sure. 

you hold her in place by her hips, gently keeping her in place before eagerly catching her lips again, cupping her cheek as you kiss her deeply. you never want to pull away, never want to stay apart from her from now on.  

all those years of pining, and despite how conflicted you felt, it was all worth it if it meant jihyo kissing you now, and by the end of the night: in your arms.  

everything was worth it if it meant her in the end. 

#miinatozakiii #twice imagines #twice x reader #kpop x reader #jihyo x reader #park jihyo x reader #twice jihyo #park jihyo #jihyo imagines

[juuuulez]

📋 | carmen berzatto nsfw alphabet.

don’t ask what possessed me today. it was definitely all the weed.

soo much nsfw under the cut….this is just paragraphs of porn.

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act):

whatever ur carmy kink headcanons are i think we all agree that he’s really sweet afterwards :( he might suddenly get nervous or anxious and overthink everything you’ve done (“are you sure you’re alright?” “i know, i know, baby ‘m just.. i wanna take care of you, yeah?”) and you’ll have to assure him it’s okay! you loved it, he was perfect, he didn’t hurt you. he just wants some reassurance and then he’ll be finding you some water, a snack, whatever you need! (“just crackers? ‘cus i’ve got this new recipe, it’s a soup, i can make it—“ “nobody wants soup after sex, carm.”)

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers):

carmy doesn’t like many things about himself, initially.. until you’re quick to vocalise exactly how amazing he is. immediately, carmy is enamoured with just what he can do with his hands. his palm covering the entirety of your neck when you kiss, or how his fingers looked splayed over your hip. and fuck, his fingers! they’re really thick, and carmen secretly gets off on the fact that your fingers are so much smaller, so even alone, you’ll never be able to finger yourself as good, never be able to reach those spots that carmy touched with ease.

C= Cum (anything that has to do with it):

let’s be so honest carmen berzatto marking kink is so real. it starts out as a practicality, pulling out to spill over your thighs, sticky white liquid that clung to your curves, and carmy found himself growing more aroused the longer he stared at it. now, even if you’re on the pill, carmy will pull out for the sole purpose of pumping his cum wherever he can, a physical reminder of what’s his, because despite all his flaws, you belong to him.

however, assuming carmy can hold back cumming well enough for this is bold, so it usually ends in covering your already sticky cunt and lower stomach in it.

D= Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory):

he jerked off with your panties once. it was near the start of your relationship, and carmen was so busy with the re-brand, he barely got to see you. so, one of the rare days he was over, he’d done some laundry for the both of you. and found some pink lace panties. and kept them. and, those nights he’d come home late and exhausted and slightly miserable, unable to call you for you were at home fast asleep, carmen.. used them to jerk off! sue him! he felt so guilty about it (poor baby) and admitted to it after a couple months of dating. he seemed so ashamed that you couldn’t help but go easy on the punishment… tying him to the bed and getting him off by only grinding over his swollen cock, wearing those same pink lace panties.

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing):

of course he doesn’t. not properly, at least. carmy’s never had girlfriends, and maybe had a hook-up or two at fancy chef events in New York or Paris or wherever. nothing that mattered, at least. so this time, he’s careful and attentive. asking questions like he’s studying for a test, watching every single movement, every reaction. you wouldn’t be surprised if he was taking notes.

F= Favorite position:

ooof carmen definitely wants to see your face. he likes holding it in his big palms, whispering sweet words over your lips and swallowing your moans (“c’mon sweetheart, you can do it.. just one more for me, huh? fuck— your cunt fuckin’ wants it yeah? that’s it..”). probably missionary mostly, maybe he fucks you from behind one early-morning, his forehead pressed to your neck while the sun seeps in through the blinds.

G= Goofy (how serious are they):

not exactly serious, but he definitely gets into the zone. for him, sex isn’t casual, and it’s a time that means a lot to him. he’s choosing to be vulnerable for someone, and in turn, feels special that he’s allowed to see you like this. carmen can loose himself in the moment, his mind going uncharacteristically blank, too focused on the pure sensation and emotion connected with it. despite this, carmy can always be found gently tapping your cheek, pushing through the haze to ask “you with me, baby? feel good?”, because his pleasure only comes when you’re still into it.

H= Hair (grooming habits):

carmen doesn’t particularly allocate time to grooming down there, it’s not really a priority, unless his partner explicitly made it clear to him that was of interest. however, i don’t think carmy has the thickest of hair, just dark little curls in all the normal places. idk guys just thinking about shirtless lip…..he’s a pretty smooth guy.

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty):

definitely depends. i wanna say a mix of both? when you’re into it carmen is so lovely, making sure to express how much he loves you, how much you mean to him. but private time doesn’t come around very often, so it’s usually instigated with a needy carmen coming home, exhausted from a long shift, his hands gripping at your waist before the words come out. his actions aren’t demanding at all, still gentle, but hurried and desperate to get inside your cunt.

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often):

carmy is so a shower jerk person. i know guys i just know. he doesn’t like making a mess anywhere else, because it’s just an inconvenience, and cleaning the sheets or another shirt is just another useless task he doesn’t have time for. it’s rare he begins with the intention of jerking off, either. the hot shower melts away a day of tension, and carmen finds himself finally relaxing, finally tuning into his body, only to realise how much he needs this.

K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual):

we’ve already established the marking kink… and now listen 😝 i am a sub carmy truther guys! i can’t help it he’s so baby i need him to cry for me ;( but carmy definitely likes being bossed around, being told what to do, when he gets to cum.. it’s a change from being in control of literally everything, which most of the time carmen feels all he does falls apart, so he enjoys not having to think (which usually means second-guess and reconsider and debate and obsess).

L= Location (where they like to get it on):

every single carmen office quickie fic is SO SO SO SO SO SEXY they always have me foaming and barking like a rabid animal….however i’m gonna have to say his or your bed! he likes the idea of you being comfortable..bonus points for you guys probably fucking more often on the couch, since needy carmen can’t wait long enough to split you open :(

M= Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons):

there are a variety of ways to get carmen in the mood, but his #1 is a confident partner who takes what they want. imagine carmy obsessing over the new menu, spending endless hours in the living room, papers and recipes and notes scattered over the table. you’ve barely gotten any attention all night, not necessarily in a needy way, just that this was supposed to be your night off together. the solution is actually quite easy: climbing onto the table, obscuring carmen’s vision of his work. before a protest can leave his lips, brows furrowed in confusion and slight distress, your hands are firmly pressing down on his shoulders. “you’re gonna eat me out, yeah? like you promised?” and he is DOWN on his knees, mind fucking short-circuiting, because suddenly there is nothing he’d rather do.

N= No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do):

carmen really doesn’t like seriously hurting you, so no intense spanking or choking. however i really love choking 🙄🙄 so i think he’d wrap his hand around your neck, his finger rubbing the hinge of your jaw, his warm palm a gentle assurance of the power he has without fully exercising it.

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are):

pussy eating champ…carmen genuinely gets off on being able to make you feel good. his strong arms bracketing your thighs, fingers digging into the plush skin, holding you to his mouth while his tongue fucks deep. carmy can’t help but rut against the mattress, hips hastily thrusting in tune to your moans, the swollen head of his dick rubbing against the sheets. “please, baby, please.. c’mon, just a little longer, please— i need it so fuckin’ bad.” he’ll cry into your cunt after your first orgasm, needing to eat your sopping pussy in order to cum.

P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed):

soft, grinding rolls of his hips against yours, holding your cunt against the base of his cock, letting your clit rub against his skin. carmen takes it slow, making sure to hit the spongy place right up inside you, the one that makes you cry and squirm.

Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard):

carmen prefers to take his time with it, but more often you find yourself hurriedly making love on the couch, bench, shower, maybe even his car. clothes scattered around the room, a bra on the chair, carmen’s boxers under the coffee table. he’ll take you wherever he can, whenever the time finally allows it, and he makes it deep and fast.

R= Risk (do they like to try new things):

anything you want, he’ll hear you out. carmen loves to learn, he wants to know everything that makes you tick, and will willingly absorb anything you have to teach. that’s not to say he isn’t nervous, as he finds himself always double-checking you’re still alright, asking if it still feels good.

S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts):

definitely a multiple rounds kinda guy. he can’t help it! the sight of you laying there, stripes of cum over your stomach and shiny slick on your thighs, carmen finds himself hard all over again. expect a round two, maybe three from him, and even then he’ll probably eat you out again.

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers):

carmen doesn’t see the use for sex toys, since he’d much prefer to be the one providing you pleasure. definitely not fully opposed, though, he’ll fuck you long and slow with a vibrator on nights where he just wants to watch and study you.

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves):

i 🩷 edging so carmen 🩷’s edging! carmy puts on this needy desperate front (“please, fuck, i need’a cum, ‘m not kidding.”) but there is NOTHING alike to carmy’s mind going completely blank after denying his third orgasm in a row, his cock swollen and throbbing with each pass of your hand, only for you to finally give him permission (“cum for me, carmy, i’ve got you.”)

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk):

think about the lowest, guttural moans you’ve ever heard. as carmen gets closer, they taper off into higher whines, soft whispers into your skin about how much he wants this.

W= Wild card (random sincannon of any sort):

now, carmen does not take disrespect in the kitchen, and clearly doesn’t tolerate people talking back. but you? there’s a certain fire in his stomach, when you glare at him over the pass, or don’t back up whenever he gets into your personal space. if you stand your ground, firm and sure about whatever you’re doing, carmen feels himself fostering a growing mixture of respect and arousal.

X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants):

i just KNOW carmen is thick…the stretch seems impossible every time, his cock filling up every inch inside your hot cunt, while carmen whispers that it’s going to be alright, that you can take it.

Y= Yearning (sexdrive level):

higher than carmen has time for. hence the jerking off in the shower, and fucking you on the couch. he’ll take anything that he can get, for he knows time isn’t on his side.

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after):

carmy will ask you a hundred questions about how you’re feeling, if you need anything, what he can do, before finally settling in beside you. sometimes he’ll lay there for a few minutes, before dragging himself up, uttering some excuse about needing to revise the new menu. you’ll fuss, try and pull him back down, and he’ll fold almost instantly.

#the bear fx #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #the bear smut

[kyuuppi]

help, my boyfriend has no sex drive! (5)

Pairing: Kenma x reader (f)

Contents: smut; established relationship; feminization, "femboy", heavy praise kink (Kenma); rough sex; creampie; Christmas themes

Words: 3.4k

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4

“But as long as you’d love me so—

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snoooow”

Kenma tries not to visibly cringe at the cheery music as he emerges from his office, finally finished with his obligatory three-hour “Christmas special” stream.

As you had been for the past month, you’re softly singing along to some Christmas carol playing from your shitty laptop speaker. You had busied yourself with reorganizing the presents under the full-sized tree—something you had insisted on buying for the apartment.

Kenma had little more interest in most holidays than the “free day from school” perks. But as he watches you scurry around your shared living room wearing candy cane-themed stockings, an oversized ugly Christmas sweater, and a hundred-yen-store Santa hat, Kenma is thankful you had expressed your desire to celebrate with him. He will gladly participate in anything that makes you this innocently cheerful. 

Your background music is abruptly cut short and you frown when you realize your laptop has just died again. But the disappointment is cut short when you notice Kenma, standing awkwardly by the couch in the dark Christmas sweater you had insisted he wear for his stream. 

“KenKen—your stream is over?”

Kenma smiles softly at how eager you look, eyes practically sparkling. 

“Yeah, I’m free now. You wanted to open presents, right?” 

You nod quickly, guiding him to the couch and leaving only to retrieve a cup of hot cocoa—extra whipped cream—and a slice of homemade apple pie, placing them both in front of him on the coffee table. He thanks you quietly, predictably digging into the apple pie first. 

“So I think we should start with your family’s gifts first,” you begin, already passing him a small stack of presents, all wrapped in identical green and red paper. 

After nearly half an hour you two had finally worked your way through nearly all of the presents. Most were the typical things–an abhorrent amount of socks and pajamas from your families, Kenma’s mother gifting both of you very cringey matching couple sets with any video game character she saw. You had to try very hard not to laugh at Kenma’s face when you opened a matching Kirby and Jigglypuff sweater set with a handwritten heart note.

“Aww, don’t pout KenKen, your mom was just being thoughtful.” “They’re not even in the same series.” 

A few gifts had been surprising–namely Kuroo’s cat ear headphones—to which Kenma promptly sent a text telling Kuroo to never buy him Christmas gift ever again— and even a signed pro jersey from Hinata. Even if he didn’t voice it, you noticed how touched Kenma seemed by the gesture and you made a mental note to buy something to display it in the apartment. A few gifts were even from Kenma’s fans, sending various game merchandise, snacks from their country, and even fan art of the two of you. 

Finally, the last remaining gifts were the ones you made for each other. You didn’t want to pressure Kenma to buy you anything fancy–and you also couldn’t afford to reciprocate with anything fancy, so you set a strict budget. 

Kenma was unexpectedly good at keeping secrets so you weren’t sure what he had gotten you–probably a game he wanted you to play together but the box was unexpectedly big—

Regardless, you knew what you got him , and it was something you had been thinking about for months. Needless to say, you were eager for him to open it. 

“Who should go firs—”

“I’ll go!”

Kenma raises a brow but complies as you all but shove your gift into his hands. The outside is unassuming—a flat package wrapped in red paper with a holographic silver stick-on bow in the center. Somehow, he feels vaguely uneasy. 

Cautiously, Kenma begins unwrapping the gift. You practically vibrate with excitement in your seat, eagerly watching as his thin fingers peel away the final layers of colorful paper. 

Finally, your present reveals itself, soft nylon fabric in a bright red shade. Kenma seems confused, unsure of what exactly he is looking at until he shifts and the fabric unravels into two long strips. 

“Ta-daa,” you cheer, “your very own pair of thigh-high stockings!”

Kenma looks horrified. 

“This is a joke,” Kenma states, sounding like he’s trying to convince himself just as much as you. 

“What do you mean? Don’t you like them? Look, they’re even Christmas-themed!”

You guide his hands over to the top of the socks where a large red ribbon sits. Two short red strings dangle the ribbon with a small, fuzzy white ball at the end each. You make him squeeze the soft ball for good measure. His expression doesn’t change. 

“Why would you buy me these? You wasted actual, real-life money for this,” Kenma bemoans. 

“Didn’t your fans suggest something like this before? I think they called them programmer socks—”

“ Oh my god please stop talking.”

Kenma lets out a long, suffering groan as you eye him with an absolute shit-eating grin.

It’s fine, he thinks. You wanted to be a little shit like Kuroo but it was just a prank. He could probably Venmo back the money you wasted on this and never have to think of this situation ever again. He’ll toss them in the back of the closet next to those cat ear headphones Kuroo bought him. 

He is proven wrong when you nudge his shin with your own stocking-clad toes and give him an expectant look. 

“Well?”

“What?”

“Aren’t you going to try them on?”

Kenma’s brain very obviously fries and you have to resist the urge to laugh at his expression. 

“C’mon, I spent actual, real-life money on these," you tease, throwing his words back at him, "I wanna see you wear them at least once!”

“You have to be joking,” he all but whines. 

Your excited expression tells him you are very much not joking. Kenma considers refusing more firmly. He knows you genuinely care about him and would never push him to do something he was uncomfortable with—or at least so long as it wouldn’t actually kill him.  

But your eyes are wide and practically sparkling as you look at him expectantly with that cute little grin–the crippling humiliation that will likely haunt him every night for the rest of his life is nothing compared to your happiness. Kenma sighs deeply and you know you’ve won. 

He ignores your excited squeals as he stands up and shuffles towards the bathroom in something akin to a walk of shame. 

As Kenma stares at his own lithe form in the mirror he’s positive that he has never felt so mortified in his whole life. Not when he accidentally set a ball into Lev’s face during a match in high school. Not when he missed his ult in a team fight and cost his team the ranked match in League. Not even when he came so hard he nearly passed out while getting his dick sucked during a live stream. 

Kenma can barely even recognize himself in the mirror, eyes flitting from his familiar golden gaze down to his oversized black and white Nightmare Before Christmas sweater and, finally, to his thin legs wrapped in an inappropriately bright red pair of thigh-high socks.

Somehow, the stockings feel even more exposing than if he were just naked. He feels like some cheap, poorly drawn femboy character in a hentai. One of his first thoughts was they don’t look nearly as appealing on him as they do on you. His legs are too lanky–straight and lean from years of volleyball but missing the curve of healthy fat yours have. His face heats up as he visualizes your thighs currently clad in your own pair of red and white striped stockings. 

“KenKen are you ready yet? You’re taking foreeeeever!”

His heart rate picks up and he tries to remind himself it's just you, the person who makes him feel safest. He’s going to go out there, you’re going to see how cringe he looks, then you'll both laugh and never talk about this again. 

He takes a deep breath and opens the door, immediately meeting your gaze as you sit on the couch where he left you. Breath bated, he watches as your eyes dart down his body, darting around his lower half with your mouth agape. He tries his best not to squirm under your stare. 

“Fuck, Ken,” you chuckle breathily, “you look amazing.”

Kenma’s breath hitches, certainly not expecting that type of response. As you continue to take him in he realizes your gaze looks almost hungry, like you’re ready to devour him–shit, are you seriously into this?

He finds his answer in the way you motion him over, helpless in how his body obeys before he can even process the silent request. You reach out hesitantly, fingertips so close to his thighs he can feel your body heat even through the thin fabric. You glance up at him, asking permission, and he’s nodding immediately, desperate for your touch.

Your fingers land near his left knee, trailing up slowly and making his whole body tremble lightly. When your fingertips catch on the hem of the stockings he nearly gasps and then you're brushing his soft skin directly, only stopping when you reach the edge of the sweater that’s just barely covering his rapidly hardening cock. 

“You’re so pretty,” you praise, "my pretty boy."

Kenma makes a choked sound, surprised and mildly offended but also awfully turned on to hear any form of praise from your lips. No, he wants to argue, you’re the pretty one –but you look up at him, so pleased, that he can’t remember how to speak. 

“And now we match,” you sing, tone innocent as you raise your leg between his own. His eyes follow, nearly hypnotized by the contrast between your red-and-white stockings against his red ones before your clothed shin brushes against his crotch in a way that is anything but innocent. He has to grab the back of the couch near your head to keep his knees from buckling as he groans.

You seem to take some form of pity on him because you let up on his crotch with a giggle, making room for him to sit down beside you and catch his breath. Even when you let him rest your attention never strays from the item of clothing, hand idly stroking his thigh while you continue to drink in the sight of his pale skin contrasting with the scarlet cloth. 

“Do you really like it that much,” he asks, almost hesitant. 

He’s surprised at how sheepish you become, moving your hand away as your face slightly flushes. 

“Um–yeah. I know it’s kinda weird, sorry, you just look really pretty sometimes.”

Kenma frowns slightly and takes your hand back, returning it to his thigh with his own on top of yours. The action was meant to reassure you but it felt too bold and he avoids eye contact as he speaks.

“You don’t have to apologize, I don’t hate it…”

He sees the way you perk up, practically beaming, from the corner of his eye and is quick to clarify less you try to buy him a pair of panties or something next year. 

“It’s not my thing—I prefer seeing you in cute clothes…but I can try things like this if it makes you this happy.”

“Aww, KenKen, that’s so sweet!”

Kenma huffs, breath nearly knocked out of him when you launch yourself into his chest, planting noisy kisses all over his face. He tries his best to scowl but he’s pretty sure he’s failing by the way you giggle at his expression. Your Santa hat gets knocked off in the commotion but neither of you care. Kenma even takes the opportunity to bury his fingers in your messy hair as your kisses finally focus on his lips. 

Eventually, the kisses deepen, morphing from quick pecks to slow and open-mouthed. Your tongue invades his mouth, gravity giving you a clear advantage as you take charge of this kiss. But not one to easily accept defeat, Kenma takes the opportunity to grab a handful of your ass in a way that has you gasping in surprise. You start to grind on him, both of you letting out soft sounds between kisses. 

It’s you who pulls away first, making Kenma softly whine in protest, gaze hazy as he blinks up at you in question. 

“Wanna ride you,” you explain simply. 

Kenma hisses out his approval and obediently waits as you pull down your lounge shorts. You yank them down your legs and fling them across the living room with a little too much force, accidentally hitting the Christmas tree. You laugh at the sight of your fuzzy white shorts hanging on the tree like some soft of kinky Christmas ornament but Kenma is quick to redirect your attention by pulling you back down for another kiss. 

He grips your ass again, this time bare, and moves his fingers to prepare you for his dick but—

He abruptly stops and pulls away from the kiss in shock. 

“You’re already this wet?” His expression looks genuinely surprised and you can’t help but giggle. 

“I told you, you look really pretty.”

Kenma groans, not sure if he’s annoyed or turned on but his cock throbs all the same. You pull up the bottom half of his sweater to reach his black boxers. He’s so hard that it's almost difficult to get them off but he helps you pull them down just enough to free his leaking cock. It takes a moment to properly position yourself from this new angle, hindered by your bulky sweater and the headrest of the couch digging into your side but you manage to guide his leaky head to your drenched hole and ease down.

You both groan as he breaches your cunt, your wetness making the slide smooth even as you reach his thick base.

“F-fuck, Ken, you always feel so good,” you moan.

The praise feels like a punch to the gut and he’s thankful he’s already lying down so he can’t embarrass himself further by losing his balance. He’s coming to realize even if feminization isn’t his thing, praise might be. He thinks he'd do just about anything if it pleased you—if it made you look down at him with those shiny eyes and call him your good boy—fuck. Kenma has to force himself back to reality before he makes himself cum too quickly just by his own fantasies. 

You readjust your weight, leaning back and using his bent knees as leverage. Your fingers dig into the fabric of his stockings as you begin to move, raising to his tip before dropping your whole weight down. It feels good—mind-numbingly so—but he finds it looks even better. The angle you put yourself into gives him an unobstructed view of your face–eyes pinched closed and reddened lips open in pleasure, your breasts–soft and bouncing with every movement–and, best of all, your tight hole sucking him in with every uptake. 

He can’t tear his eyes away from where the two of you are connected. A creamy white ring is quickly forming at the base of his cock from how soaked you are, thin strings sticking to your pussy like webs. Framing it all are your thick thighs, muscles straining with your movements and squeezed by those god damned red-and-white striped thigh highs.

Fuck, he wishes he could record this.

He has apparently said that aloud on accident because now you’re grinning down at him conspiratorially. 

“Y-yeah?” you stutter out, “you wanna make a movie with me?”

Kenma doesn’t verbally answer but he doesn’t need to. Instead, he’s gripping your hips and guiding your pace, making you bounce on his cock faster while his own hips start to meet your thrusts. 

It has only been a few minutes but it's becoming clear your stamina is far from athletic. Your thighs burn and your pace stumbles but Kenma is quick to take advantage of the situation, using a strength you didn’t know he was capable of to roll you over and push you face down. 

“Kenma, wh—oh!”

Any dissent you had intended to make is abruptly cut off when your boyfriend, one knee digging into the couch for leverage, feeds his length back into your greedy hole and sets a pace that has you nearly screaming. His hips snap into you, hard, and you scramble to find something to hold on to. One hand finds the armrest of the couch near your head, nails nearly tearing into the fabric, while the other ends up behind you, digging into his thigh as he rams his hips into you. You’re drooling as you manage to stutter out a barely coherent statement through your moans.

“K-Ken, so h-hard, fuck—”

“Yeah,” He replies, sounding breathless but not nearly as wrecked as you. You curse his retired high school athlete stamina. 

“Am I still your pretty boy?”

The question momentarily shocks you. You aren’t sure what response he’s looking for but you answer honestly, too fucked out to ponder on it. 

“Y-yesyesyes, the prettiest! ”

“You like getting fucked by your pretty boy?”

“Yeeeess, I l-love it—oh god—”

One hand reaches up to grip your hair, tugging your hair in a way you aren’t sure is punishment or a reward. You cry out all the same, cunt squeezing him for dear life as he hits something deep deep deep inside of you. You’re fairly certain you’ve never been fucked this hard in your life. The sweet, no-sex-drive-having boyfriend trope becomes little more than a pipe dream as his hips smack into your ass without reprieve. 

“‘m g-gonna cum,” you warn.

Kenma’s grip on your hip tightens and he adjusts his angle to hit the spot he knows makes your toes curl and your pitch turns airy. The nail in the coffin comes when he releases your hair, but only to start rubbing your clit, remembering your favorite rhythm from the time he watched you masturbate. 

Expectedly, you cum, toes curling and squeals reaching a pitch you think might cause your boyfriend hearing damage. Your whole body seizes with your orgasm, cunt spasming and thighs squeezing shit as you please for him to stop, go harder–you aren’t sure. 

Kenma forces you to ride through it, fucking you even as your hips stutter violently and never letting up on your pulsating nub. It's only when you're nearing tears from the overstimulation that Kenma stops, moaning sweetly as his own orgasm overtakes him. He collapses against you in exhaustion as warmth fills you from deep inside, making a mess on your thighs as it gushes out between you. 

“Mm, y’r heavyyy,” you complain sleepily. 

Kenma grunts something in response but doesn’t bother moving. In fact, he seems to make himself more comfortable by moving his hands to find your own. He slips his long fingers in the spaces between your own, locking your hands together. Your heart swells at the action, constantly reminded how much this boy loves you even when he doesn't vocalize it very often.  

You allow him a few more moments of peace, listening to his harsh pants die down into something more calm before you speak again. 

“By the way, what was my present?”

Kenma stiffens against you, having completely forgotten about Christmas altogether. Quickly, he pulls away from you and the loss of warmth almost makes you regret saying anything. On shaky legs, Kenma shuffles over to the forgotten box, wrapped in royal blue paper and topped with a pretty gold ribbon. He comes back to the couch, gingerly helping you sit up before placing the box on your lap. 

You’re immediately surprised by the hefty weight of the box and grow curious as you tear at the paper. Within seconds, the logo and picture on the box become clear, making you gasp in shock. 

“Kenmaaaa,” you whine, trying not to tear up as you pout at him. 

To his credit, Kenma looks honestly guilty as he avoids your eyes. 

“We set a twenty-thousand-yen spending limit, ” you remind him.

“I know but—this is basically a necessity. Your old one was going to die any day now,” Kenma reasons, helping you pull out the shiny new laptop –in rose gold no less. 

“And it's a gaming laptop–that means you can play with me more so it’s basically a gift for me more than you,” he continues. 

You know he’s absolutely pulling excuses out of his ass but you can’t help the rush of affection at how much Kenma wants to spoil you. He always buys you the things you want, even when you insist on not wanting to take advantage of him as a wealthy streamer and businessman. He usually comes up with some excuse, I was going to buy one anyway so we can share or I have too much money this month, taxes will be a hassle if I don’t spend it. 

But he is right–your old laptop was on its last leg and every time you opened a Word document for school you had to pray it wouldn’t crash before you could save your draft.

You softly smile as you trace the box with a finger, elated that he even remembered which color you wanted. He grins at how pleased you clearly are, even if you won’t say it. 

“Besides,” his grin suddenly turns sly as he places a hand on the swell of your hip, “I heard the webcam is really great for recording movies.”

#kenma #kozume kenma #kenma x reader #kenma x you #kenma x y/n #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #kenma smut #kenma imagine #kenma scenario #kenma fic #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu smut #haikyuu fic #hq smut #hq x reader #smut #fic:hmbfhnsd